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ARTISTS PAST AND PRESENT

By the Same Author

=The Works of James McNeill Whistler.= Illustrated with

Many Reproductions of Etchings, Lithographs, Pastels and

Paintings, 6-3/4 x 9-1/4 Inches. Boxed, $4.00 Net.

(Postage 32 cents.)

A study of Whistler and his works, including etchings, lithographs,

pastels, water-colors, paintings, landscapes. Also a chapter on

Whistler's "Theory of Art."

=The Same.--Limited Edition de Luxe.= The Limited Edition

of the Above Work, Illustrated with Additional Examples

on Japan and India Paper. Printed on Van Gelder Hand-made

Paper, with Wide Margins. Limited to 250 Numbered

and Signed Copies, of which a few are left unsold. Boxed,

$15.00 Net. (Postage Extra.)

=The Art of William Blake.= Uniquely and Elaborately Illustrated.

Size 7-1/2 x 10-1/2 Inches. Wide Margins. Boxed, $3.50

Net. (Postage 25 cents.)

A volume of great distinction, discussing the art of Blake in

several unusual phases, and dwelling importantly upon his

Manuscript Sketch Book, to which the author has had free access,

and from which the publishers have drawn freely for illustrations,

many of which have never been published before.

[Illustration: DANS LA LOGE

_From a painting by Mary Cassatt_]

Artists Past and Present

RANDOM STUDIES

BY

ELISABETH LUTHER CARY

Author of "_The Art of William Blake_," "_Whistler_," Etc.

_ILLUSTRATED_

NEW YORK

MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY 1909

_Copyright_,1909, _by_

MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY

NEW YORK

PUBLISHED, SEPTEMBER, 1909

_The Plimpton Press Norwood Mass. U.S.A._

CONTENTS

PAGE

I. ANTOINE LOUIS BARYE 1

II. THE ART OF MARY CASSATT 25

III. MAX KLINGER 37

IV. ALFRED STEVENS 49

V. A SKETCH IN OUTLINE OF JACQUES CALLOT 61

VI. CARLO CRIVELLI 81

VII. THE CASSEL GALLERY 95

VIII. FANTIN-LATOUR 109

IX. CARL LARSSON 119

X. JAN STEEN 131

XI. ONE SIDE OF MODERN GERMAN PAINTING 143

XII. TWO SPANISH PAINTERS 165

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

DANS LA LOGE _Frontispiece_

_From a painting by Mary Cassatt_

Facing

Page

PORTRAIT OF ANTOINE LOUIS BARYE 2

_From a painting by J. F. Millet_

LION DEVOURING A DOE 6

BULL THROWN TO EARTH BY A BEAR 6

_From a bronze by Barye_

A LIONESS 8

_From a bronze by Barye_

THE PRANCING BULL 10

_From a bronze by Barye_

PANTHER SEIZING A DEER 12

_From a bronze by Barye_

THE LION AND THE SERPENT 16

_From a bronze by Barye_

ASIAN ELEPHANT CRUSHING TIGER 20

_From a bronze by Barye_

CHILD RESTING 28

_From an etching by Mary Cassatt_

ON THE BALCONY 32

_From a painting by Mary Cassatt_

WOMAN WITH A FAN 34

_From a painting by Mary Cassatt_

BEETHOVEN 38

_From a statue in colored marble by Max Klinger_

CASSANDRA 44

_From a statue in colored marble by Max Klinger_

L'ATELIER 52

_From a painting by Alfred Stevens_

PORTRAIT OF JACQUES CALLOT 68

_Engraved by Vosterman after the painting of Van Dyck_

ST. DOMINIC 84

_From a panel by Carlo Crivelli_

ST. GEORGE 86

_From a panel by Carlo Crivelli_

PIETA 88

_From a panel by Carlo Crivelli_

A PANEL BY CARLO CRIVELLI (_a_) 90

A PANEL BY CARLO CRIVELLI (_b_) 92

SASKIA 98

_From a portrait by Rembrandt_

NICHOLAS BRUYNINGH 102

_From a portrait by Rembrandt_

PORTRAIT OF MME. MAITRE 112

_From a painting by Fantin-Latour_

MY FAMILY 120

_From a painting by Carl Larsson_

A PAINTING BY CARL LARSSON 126

PEASANT WOMEN OF DACHAUER 148

_From a painting by Leibl_

FIDDLING DEATH 154

_From a portrait by Arnold Boecklin_

THE SWIMMERS 166

_From a painting by Sorolla_

THE BATH--JAVEA 168

_From a painting by Sorolla_

THE SORCERESSES OF SAN MILAN 170

_From a painting by Zuloaga_

THE OLD BOULEVARDIER 172

_From a painting by Zuloaga_

MERCEDES 174

_From a painting by Zuloaga_

ARTISTS PAST AND PRESENT

I

ANTOINE LOUIS BARYE

At the Metropolitan Museum of Art are two pictures by the Florentine

painter of the fifteenth century called Piero di Cosimo. They represent

hunting scenes, and the figures are those of men, women, fauns, satyrs,

centaurs, and beasts of the forests, fiercely struggling together. As we

observe the lion fastening his teeth in the flesh of the boar, the bear

grappling with his human slayer, and the energy and determination of the

creatures at bay, our thought involuntarily bridges a chasm of four

centuries and calls up the image of the Barye bronzes in which are

displayed the same detachment of vision, the same absence of

sentimentality, the same vigor and intensity if not quite the same

strangeness of imagination. It is manifestly unwise to carry the parallel

very far, yet there is still another touch of similarity in the beautiful

surfaces. Piero's fine, delicate handling of pigment is in the same

manner of expression as Barye's exquisite manipulation of his metal after

the casting, his beautiful thin patines that do not suppress but reveal

sensitive line and subtle modulation. We know little enough of Piero

beyond what his canvases tell us. Of Barye we naturally know more,

although everything save what his work confides of his character and

temperament is of secondary importance, and he is interesting to moderns,

especially as the father of modern animal sculpture, and not for the

events of his quiet life.

[Illustration: From the collection of the late Cyrus J. Lawrence, Esq.

PORTRAIT OF ANTOINE LOUIS BARYE

_From a painting by J. F. Millet_]

Antoine Louis Barye, born at Paris September 15, 1796, died June 25,

1875, in the same year with Corot and at the same age. The circumstances

under which he began his career have been told in detail by more than

one biographer, but it would be difficult rightly to estimate the

importance and singularity of his work without some review of them. His

father was a jeweler of Lyons, who settled in Paris before Antoine was

born, and whose idea of education for his son was to place him at less

than fourteen with an engraver of military equipments from whom he

learned to engrave on steel and other metals, and later with a jeweler

from whom he learned to make steel matrixes for molding reliefs from

thin metals. A certain stress has been laid on this lack of schooling in

the conventional sense of the word, but it is difficult to see that it

did much harm, since Barye, though he was not a correct writer of

French, was a great reader, keenly intelligent in his analysis of the

knowledge he gained from books, and with extraordinary power of turning

it to his own uses. Such a mind does not seriously miss the

advantages offered by a formal training, and it might fairly be argued

that the manual skill developed at the work-bench was in the long run

more valuable to him than the abstract knowledge which he might have

acquired in school could possibly have been. Be that as it may, up to

the time of his marriage in 1823 he had a varied apprenticeship. At

sixteen he was drawn as a conscript and was first assigned to the

department where maps in relief are modeled. Before he was twenty-one he

was working with a sculptor called Bosio, and also in the studio of the

painter, Baron Gros. He studied Lamarck, Cuvier and Buffon. He competed

five times for the _Prix de Rome_ at the Salon, once in the section of

medals and four times in the section of sculpture, succeeding once (in

the first competition) in gaining a second prize. He then went back to

the jeweler's bench for eight years, varying the monotony of his work by

modeling independently small reliefs of _Eagle and Serpent_, _Eagle and

Antelope_, _Leopard_, _Panther_, and other animals.

In 1831 he sent to the Salon of that year the _Tiger Devouring a Gavial

of the Ganges_, a beautiful little bronze, seven and a half inches high,

which won a Second Medal and was bought by the Government for the

Luxembourg. This was the beginning of his true career. In the same Salon

was exhibited his _Martyrdom of St. Sebastian_, but the powerful

realism and energy of the animal group represented what henceforth was

to be Barye's characteristic achievement, the realization, that is, of

what the Chinese call the "movement of life;" the strange reality of

appearance that is never produced by imitation of nature and that makes

the greatness of art. The tiger clutches its victim with great gaunt

paws, its eyes are fixed upon the prey, its body is drawn together with

tense muscles, its tail is curled, the serpent is coiled about the

massive neck of its destroyer with large undulating curves. The touch is

everywhere certain, the composition is dignified, and the group as an

exhibition of extraordinary knowledge is noteworthy.

A lithograph portrait of Barye by Gigoux, made at about this time, shows

a fine head, interested eyes, a firm mouth and a determined chin. His

chief qualities were perseverance, scientific curiosity, modesty and

pride, and that indomitable desire for perfection so rarely encountered

and so precious an element in the artist's equipment. He was little of a

talker, little of a writer, infinitely studious, somewhat reserved and

cold in manner, yet fond of good company and not averse to good dinners.

Guillaume said of him that he had the genius of great science and of

high morality, which is the best possible definition in a single phrase

of his artistic faculty. He had the kind of sensitiveness, or

self-esteem, if you will, that frequently goes with a mind confident

of its merits, but not indifferent to criticism or sufficiently elevated

and aloof to dispense with resentment. In 1832 he sent to the Salon his

_Lion Crushing a Serpent_, and in 1833 he sent a dozen animal

sculptures, a group of medallions and six water-colors. That year he was

made chevalier of the Legion of Honour, but the following year nine

groups made for the Duke of Orleans were rejected by the Salon jury, and

again in 1836 several small pieces were rejected, although the _Seated

Lion_, later bought by the government, was accepted. The reasons for the

rejections are not entirely clear, but Barye was an innovator, and in

the field of art the way of the innovator is far harder than that of the

transgressor. Charges of commercialism were among those made against

him, and he--the least commercial of men--took them deeply to heart. His

bitterness assumed a self-respecting but an inconvenient and

unprofitable form, as he made up his mind to exhibit thereafter only in

his own workshop, a resolution to which he held for thirteen years.

After the rejection of his groups in 1834 he happened to meet Jules

Dupre, who expressed his disgust with the decision. "It is quite easy to

understand," Barye replied, "I have too many friends on the jury." This

touch of cynicism indicates the ease with which he was wounded, but it

was equally characteristic of him that in planning his simple revenge

he hurt only himself. He did indeed refrain from sending his bronzes to

the Salon and he did act as his own salesman, and the result was the

incurrence of a heavy debt. To meet this he was obliged to sell all his

wares to a founder who wanted them for the purpose of repeating them in

debased reproductions. His own care in obtaining the best possible

results in each article that he produced, his reluctance to sell

anything of the second class, and his perfectly natural dislike to

parting with an especially beautiful piece under any circumstances, did

not, of course, work to his business advantage, although the amateurs

who have bought the bronzes that came from his own refining hand have

profited by it immensely. It would be a mistake, however, to think of

him as a crushed or even a deeply misfortunate man. He simply was poor

and not appreciated by the general public according to his merits. After

1850, however, he had enough orders from connoisseurs, many of them

Americans, and also from the French government to make it plain that his

importance as an artist was firmly established at least in the minds of

a few. He sold his work at low prices which since his death have been

trebled and quadrupled, in fact, some of his proofs have increased

fifty-fold, but the fact that he was not overwhelmed with orders gave

him that precious leisure to spend upon the perfecting of his work

which, we may fairly assume, was worth more to him than money.

[Illustration: From the collection of the late Cyrus J. Lawrence, Esq.

LION DEVOURING A DOE

("LION DEVORANT UNE BICHE")]

[Illustration: From the collection of the late Cyrus J. Lawrence, Esq.

BULL THROWN TO EARTH BY A BEAR

("TAUREAU TERRASSE PAR UN OURS")

_From a bronze by Barye_]

Nor was he entirely without honor in his own country. At the Universal

Exposition of 1855 he received the Grand Medal of Honour in the section

of artistic bronzes, and in the same year the Officer's Cross of Legion

of Honour--a dignity that is said to have reached poor Rousseau only

when he was too near death to receive the messengers. In 1868 Barye was

made Member of the Institute, although two years earlier he had been

humiliated by having his application refused. And from America, in

addition to numerous proofs of the esteem in which he was held there by

private amateurs, he received through Mr. Walters in 1875 an order to

supply the Corcoran Gallery at Washington with an example of every

bronze he had made. This last tribute moved him to tears, and he

replied, "Ah! Monsieur Walters, my own country has never done anything

like that for me!" These certainly were far from being trivial

satisfactions, and Barye had also reaped a harvest of even subtler joys.

One likes to think of him in Barbizon, living in cordial intimacy with

Diaz and Rousseau and Millet and the great Daumier. Here he had

sympathy, excellent talk of excellent things, the company of artists

working as he did, with profound sincerity and intelligence, and he had

a chance himself to paint in the vast loneliness of the woods where he

could let his imagination roam, and could find a home for his tigers and

lions and bears studied in menageries and in the _Jardin des Plantes_.

It is pleasant also to think of him among the five and twenty _Amis du

Vendredi_ dining together at little wineshops on mutton and cheese and

wine with an occasional pate given as a treat by some member in funds

for the moment. He was not above enthusiasm for "_un certain pate de

maquereau de Calais_" and he was fond of the theater and of all shows

where animals were to be seen. It is pleasantest of all to think of him

at his work, the beauty of which he knew and the ultimate success of

which he could hardly have doubted.

[Illustration: From the collection of the late Cyrus J. Lawrence, Esq.

A LIONESS

_From a bronze by Barye_]

In what does the extraordinary quality of this work consist? The

question is not difficult to answer, since, like most of the truly great

artists, Barye had clear-cut characteristics among which may be found

those that separate him from and raise him above his contemporaries.

Scientific grasp of detail and artistic generalization are to be found

in all his work where an animal is the subject, and this combination is

in itself a mark of greatness. If we should examine the exceptionally

fine collection of Barye bronzes belonging to the late Mr. Cyrus J.

Lawrence, and consisting of more than a hundred beautiful examples, or

the fine group in the Corcoran Gallery at Washington, we should soon

learn his manner and the type established by him in his animal subjects.

In the presence of so large a number of the works of a single artist,

certain features common to the whole accomplishment may easily be

traced. One dominating characteristic in this case is the ease with

which the anatomical knowledge of the artist is worn. Even in the early

bronzes the execution is free, large, and quite without the dry

particularity that might have been expected from a method the most

exacting and specific possible. Barye from the first went very deeply

into the study of anatomy, examining skeletons, and dissecting animals

after death to gain the utmost familiarity with all the bones and

muscles, the articulations, the fur and skin and minor details. His

reading of Cuvier and Lamarck indicates his interest in theories of

animal life and organism. He took, also, great numbers of comparative

measurements that enabled him to represent not merely an individual

specimen of a certain kind of animal, but a type which should be true in

general as well as in particular. He would measure, for example, the

bones of a deer six months old and those of a deer six weeks old,

carefully noting all differences in order to form a definite impression

of the normal measurements of the animal at different ages. He made

comparative drawings of the skulls of cats, tigers, leopards, panthers,

the whole feline species, in short, seeking out the principles of

structure and noting the dissimilarities due to differences in size. He

made innumerable drawings of shoulders, heads, paws, nostrils, ears,

carefully recording the dimensions on each sketch. Among his notes was

found a minute description of the characteristic features of a blooded

horse.

He was never content with merely an external observation of a subject

when he had it in his power to penetrate the secrets of animal

mechanism. He first made sketches of his subjects, of course, but

frequently he also modeled parts of the animal in wax on the spot to

catch the characteristic movement. His indefatigable patience in thus

laying the groundwork of exact knowledge suggests the thoroughness of

the old Dutch artists. He followed, too, the recommendation of

Leonardo--so dangerous to any but the strongest mind--to draw the parts

before drawing the whole, to "learn exactitude before facility."

[Illustration: From the collection of the late Cyrus J. Lawrence, Esq.

THE PRANCING BULL

("TAUREAU CABRE")

_From a bronze by Barye_]

A story is told of a visit paid him by the sculptor Jacquemart: "I will

show you what I have under way, just now," said he to his friend, and

looking about his studio for a moment, drew out a couple of legs and

stood them erect. After a few seconds of puzzled thought he remembered

the whereabouts of the other members, and finally drew out the head from

under a heap in a corner. And the statue once in place was conspicuous

for its fine sense of unity. It was not, of course, this meticulous

method, but the use he made of it, that led Barye to his great results.

His mind was strengthened and enriched by every fragment of knowledge

with which he fed it. It all went wholesomely and naturally to the

growth of his artistic ideas, and he does not appear to have been

interested in acquiring knowledge that did not directly connect itself

with these ideas. By his perfect familiarity with the facts upon which

he built his conceptions he was fitted to use them intelligently, omit

them where he chose, exaggerate them where he chose, minimize them where

he chose. They did not fetter him; they freed him; and he could work

with them blithely, unhampered by doubts and inabilities. It is most

significant both of his accuracy and his freedom that in constructing

his models he dispensed with the rigid iron skeleton on which the clay

commonly is built. Having modeled the different parts of his

composition, he brought them together and supported them from the

outside by means of crutches and tringles, after the fashion of the boat

builders, thus enabling himself to make alterations, corrections and

revisions to the very end of his task. The definitive braces were put in

place only at the moment of the molding in plaster.

[Illustration: PANTHER SEIZING A DEER

_From a bronze by Barye_]

For small models he preferred to use wax which does not dry and crack

like the clay. He also sometimes covered his plaster model with a layer,

more or less thick, of wax, upon which he could make a more perfect

rendering of superficial subtleties. Occasionally, as in the instance of

_The Lion Crushing the Serpent_, cast by Honore Gonon, he employed the

process called _a cire perdue_, in which the model is first made in

wax, then over it is formed a mold from which the wax is melted out by

heat. The liquid bronze is poured into the matrix thus formed, and when

this has become cold the mold is broken off, leaving an almost accurate

reproduction of the original model, which is also, of course, unique,

the wax model and the mold both having been destroyed in the process.

Upon his _patines_ he lavished infinite care. Theodore Child has given

an excellent description of the difference between this final enrichment

of a bronze as applied by a master and the _patine_ of commerce. "The

ideal _patine_," he says, "is an oxydation and a polish, without

thickness, as it were, a delicate varnish or glaze, giving depth and

tone to the metal. Barye's green _patine_ as produced by himself has

these qualities of lightness and richness of tone, whereas the green

_patine_ of the modern proofs is not a _patine_, not an oxydation, but

an absolute application of green color in powder, a _mise en couleur_,

as the technical phrase is. In places this _patine_ will be nearly a

millimeter thick and will consequently choke up all delicate modeling,

soften all that is sharp, and render the bronze dull, _mou_, heavy. To

produce Barye's fine green _patine_, requires time and patience, and for

commercial bronze is impracticable. Barye, however, was never a

commercial man. When a bronze was ordered he would never promise it at

any fixed date; he would ask for one or two or three months; 'he did

not know exactly, it would depend on how his _patine_ came.'"

His patines are by no means all green; some of them are almost golden in

their vitality of color--the "_patine medaille_," as in _The Walking

Deer_, which is a superb example; some are dark brown approaching black.

The most beautiful in color and delicacy which I have seen is that on

Mr. Lawrence's _Bull Felled by a Bear_ (_Taureau terrasse par un ours_),

a bronze which seems to me in many particulars to remain a masterpiece

unsurpassed by the more violent and splendid later works. Another

remarkable example of the effect of color possible to produce by a

_patine_ is furnished by the _Lion Devouring a Doe_ (_Lion devorant une

biche_), dated 1837. The green lurking in the shadows and the coppery

gleam on the ridge of the spine, the thigh, and the bristling mane, the

rich yet bright intermediate tones, give a wonderful brilliancy and

vitality to the magnificent little piece in which the ferocity of nature

and the charm and lovableness of art are commingled. In his interesting

book on Barye, published by the Barye Monument Association, Mr. De Kay

has referred to this work as an example of Barye's power to reproduce

the horrible and to make one's blood run cold with the ferocity of the

destroying beast. It seems to me, however, that it is one of the pieces

in which Barye's power to represent the horrible without destroying the

peace of mind to be found in all true art, is most obvious. With his

capacity for emphasizing that which he wishes to be predominant in his

composition he has brought out to the extreme limit of expression the

strength of the lion and its savage interest in its prey. The lashing

tail, the wrinkled nose, the concentrated eyes are fully significant of

the mood of the beast, and were the doe equally defined the effect would

be disturbing. But the doe, lying on the ground, is treated almost in

bas-relief, hardly distinguishable against the massive bulk of its

oppressor. The appeal is not to pity, but to recognition of the force of

native instincts. Added to this is the beauty, subtly distinguished and

vigorously rendered, of the large curves of the splendid body of the

lion. Even among the superb later pieces it would be difficult to find

one with greater beauty of flowing line and organic composition.

In the illustration we can see the general contour from one point of

view, but we cannot see the rhythm of the curves balancing and repeating

each other from the tip of the uplifted tail to the arch of the great

neck. Nor is a particle of energy sacrificed to these beautiful

contours. The body is compact, the head large and expressive of power,

the thick paws rest with weight on the ground. There is none of the

pulling out of forms so often employed to give grace and so usually

suggestive of weakness. The composition is at once absolutely graceful

and eloquent of immense physical force. In the _Panther Seizing a Deer_

(_Panthere saississant un Cerf_), one of the largest of the animal

groups, we have again the characteristic double curves, the fine play of

line, and the appropriate fitting of the figures into a long oval, and

also the minimizing of the cruelty of the subject by the reticent art

with which it is treated. We see clearly enough the angry jaws, the

curled tail, the weight of the attacking beast falling on the head of

its victim, dragging it toward the ground. Nothing is slighted or

compromised. We see even the gash in the flesh made by the panther's

claws and the drops of blood trickling from the wound. But we have to

thank Barye's instinct for refined conception that these features of the

work do not claim and hold our attention which is absorbed by the vital

line, the gracious sweep of the contours, the lovely surface, and the

omission of all irrelevant and unreasonable detail.

Many of Barye's subjects included the human figure and in a few

instances the human figure alone preoccupied him. Occasionally he was

very successful in this kind. The small silver reproduction of _Hercules

Carrying a Boar_ has the remarkable quality of easy force. The figure of

Hercules is without exaggerated muscles, is normally proportioned and

quietly modeled. His burden rests lightly on his shoulders, and his free

long stride indicates that the labor is joy. This is the ancient, not

the modern tradition, and the little figure corresponds, curiously

enough, with one of the male figures in the Piero di Cosimo mentioned at

the beginning of this article. In the latter case the strong man is

engaged in combat with a living animal, but he carries his strength with

the same assurance and absence of effort in its exercise. Barye,

however, does not always give this happy impression when he seeks to

represent the human figure. If we compare, for example, the bronze made

in 1840 for the Duke of Montpensier (_Roger Bearing off Angelica on the

Hippogriff_) with any of the animal groups of that decade or earlier, we

can hardly fail to be amazed at the lack of unity in the composition and

the distracting multiplicity of the details. If we compare the _Hunt of

the Tiger_ with the _Asian Elephant Crushing Tiger_ the great

superiority of the latter in the arrangement of the masses, the dignity

of the proportions, and in economy of detail, is at once evident. The

figures of the four stone groups on the Louvre, however, have a certain

antique nobility of design and withal a naturalness that put them in the

first class of modern sculpture, I think.

[Illustration: From the collection of the late Cyrus J. Lawrence, Esq.

THE LION AND THE SERPENT

("LION AU SERPENT")

_From a bronze by Barye_]

One point worthy of note in any comparison between Barye's animals and

his human beings is the intensity and subtlety of expression in the

former and the absence of any marked expression in the latter. His men

are practically masked. No passion or emotion makes its

impression on their features. Even their gestures, violent though they

may be, seem inspired from without and not by the impulse of their own

feelings. His animals on the contrary show many phases of what must be

called, for lack of a more exact word, psychological expression. A

striking instance of this is found in the contrast between the sketch

for _The Lion Crushing the Serpent_ and the finished piece. In the

sketch there is terror in the lion's face, his paw is raised to strike

at the reptile, his tail is uplifted and lashing, the attitude and

expression are those of terror mingled with rage and the serpent appears

the aggressor. In the finished bronze the lion is calmer and in obvious

possession of the field. The fierce claws pushing out from their

sheathing, the eyes that seem to snarl with the mouth, the massive paw

resting on the serpent's coiled body combine to give a subtle impression

of certain mastery, and the serpent is unquestionably the victim and

defendant in the encounter. It is by such intuitive reading of the

aspect of animals of diverse kinds, that Barye awakens the imagination

and leads the mind into the wilderness of the untamed world. He is

perhaps most himself when depicting moods of concentration. The fashion

in which he gathers the great bodies together for springing upon and

holding down their prey is absolutely unequaled among animal sculptors.

His mind handled monumental compositions with greater success, I think,

than compositions of the lighter type in which the subject lay at ease

or exhibited the pure joy of living which we associate with the animal

world.

Two exceptions to this statement come, however, at once to my mind--the

delightful _Bear in his Trough_ and the _Prancing Bull_. The former is

the only instance I know of a Barye animal disporting itself with

youthful irresponsibility, and the innocence and humor of the little

beast make one wish that it had not occupied this unique place in the

list of Barye's work. The _Prancing Bull_ also is a conception by itself

and one of which Barye may possibly have been a little afraid. With his

extraordinary patience it is not probable that he had the opposite

quality of ability to catch upon the fly, as it were, a passing motion,

an elusive and swiftly fading effect. But in this instance he has

rendered with great skill the curvetting spring of the bull into the air

and the lightness of the motion in contrast with the weight of the body.

This singular lightness or physical adroitness he has caught also in his

representation of elephants, the _Elephant of Senegal Running_, showing

to an especial degree the agility of the animal despite its enormous

bulk and ponderosity.

While Barye's most important work was accomplished in the field of

sculpture, his merits as a painter were great. His devotion to the study

of structural expression was too stern to permit him to lapse into

mediocrity, whatever medium he chose to use, and the animals he

created, or re-created, on canvas are as thoroughly understood, as

clearly presented, as artistically significant as those in bronze. With

every medium, however, there is, of course, a set of more or less

undefinable laws governing its use. Wide as the scope of the artist is

there are limits to his freedom, and if he uses water-color, for

example, in a manner which does not extract from the medium the highest

virtue of which it is capable he is so much the less an artist. It has

been said of Barye that his paintings were unsatisfactory on that score.

About a hundred pictures in oil and some fifty water-colors have been

put on the list of his works. Mr. Theodore Child found his execution

heavy, uniform, of equal strength all over, and of a monotonous impasto

which destroys all aerial perspective. I have not seen enough of his

painting in oils either to contradict or to acquiesce in this verdict;

but his water-colors produce a very different impression on my mind. He

uses body-color but with restraint and his management of light and shade

and his broad, free treatment of the landscape background give to his

work in this medium a distinction quite apart from that inseparable from

the beautiful drawing. In the painting that we reproduce the soft washes

of color over the rocky land bring the background into delicate harmony

with the richly tinted figure of the tiger with the effect of variety in

unity sought for and obtained by the masters of painting. The weight

and roundness of the tiger's body is brought out by the firm broad

outline which Barye's contemporary Daumier is so fond of using in his

paintings, the interior modeling having none of the emphasis on form

that one looks for in a sculptor's work. In his paintings indeed, even

more than in his sculpture, Barye shows his interest in the

psychological side of his problem. Here if ever he sees his subject

whole, in all its relations to life. The vast sweep of woodland or

desert in which he places his wild creatures, the deep repose commingled

with the potential ferocity of these creatures, their separateness from

man in their inarticulate emotions, their inhuman passions, their

withdrawn powerfully realized lives, their self-sufficiency, their part

in nature--all this becomes vivid to us as we look at his paintings and

we are aware that the portrayal of animal life went far deeper with

Barye than a mere anatomical grasp of his subject. Corot did not find

his tigers sufficiently poetic and altered, it is said, the tiger drawn

for one of his own paintings until he succeeded in giving it a more

romantic aspect. Barye's poetry, however, was the unalterable poetry of

life. He found his inspiration in realities but that is not to say that

his realities were external ones. He excluded nothing belonging to the

sentiment of his subject and comparison of his work with that of other

animal sculptors and painters deepens one's respect for the

penetrating insight with which he sought his truths.

Since Barye's death and the great increase in the prices of his work,

many devices have been used to sell objects bearing his name, but not

properly his work. For example, he produced for the city of Marseilles

some objects in stone (designed for the columns of the gateway), which

were never done in bronze; since his death these have been reduced in

size and produced in bronze as his work. Works of the younger Barye

signed by the great name are also confused with those of the father.

Further still, to the confusion of inexperienced collectors, the bronzes

of Mene, Fratin, and Cain, all artists of importance, but hardly

increasing fame, have had the signatures erased and that of Barye

substituted. It is therefore inadvisable to attempt at this date the

collection of Barye's bronzes without special knowledge or advice. The

great collections of early and fine proofs have been made. At the sale

of his effects after his death the models with the right of reproduction

were sold, and in many instances these modern proofs are on the market

bearing the name of Barye, with no indication of their modernity. Some

of these are so cleverly done that great knowledge is required to detect

them, and if they were sold for a moderate price, would be desirable

possessions. Certain dealers frankly sell a modern reproduction as

modern and at an appropriate price, but I know of one only, M.

Barbedienne, who puts a plaque with his initials on each piece produced

by him.

[Illustration: ASIAN ELEPHANT CRUSHING TIGER

_From a bronze by Barye_]

During Barye's lifetime he had, however, in his employ, a man named

Henri, who possessed his confidence to a full degree. A few pieces are

found with the initial of this man, showing that they were done under

his supervision and not that of Barye, but whether before or after the

death of the latter is not yet determined.

THE ART OF MARY CASSATT

II

THE ART OF MARY CASSATT

Some fifteen years ago, on the occasion of an exhibition in Paris of

Miss Cassatt's work a French critic suggested that she was then,

perhaps, with the exception of Whistler, "the only artist of an

elevated, personal and distinguished talent actually possessed by

America." The suggestion no doubt was a rash one, since, as much

personal and distinguished work by American artists never leaves this

country, the data for comparison must be lacking to a French critic; but

it is certainly true that, like Whistler, Miss Cassatt early struck an

individual note, looked at life with her own eyes, and respected her

intellectual instrument sufficiently to master it to the extent, at

least, of creating a style for herself. Born at Pittsburgh,

Pennsylvania, she studied first at the Philadelphia Academy, and later

traveled through Spain, Italy, and Holland in search of artistic

knowledge and direction. In France she came to know the group of

painters including Monet, Renoir, Pissarro and Degas, and especially

influenced by the work of Degas, she turned to him for the counsel she

needed, receiving it in generous measure. It was a fortunate choice, the

most fortunate possible, if she wished to combine in her art the

detached observation characteristic in general of the Impressionist

school with a passionate pursuit of all the subtlety, eloquence and

precision possible to pure line. The fruit of his influence is to be

found in the technical excellence of her representations of life, the

firmness and candor of her drawing, her competent management of planes

and surfaces, and the audacity with which she attacks difficult problems

of color and tone. The extreme gravity of her method is the natural

result of working under a master whose intensity and austerity in the

pursuit of artistic truth are perhaps unequaled in the history of modern

art.

Her choice of subject is not, however, the inspiration of any mind other

than her own. She has taken for the special field in which to exercise

her vigorous talent that provided by the various phases of the maternal

relation. Her wholesome young mothers with their animated children,

comely and strong, unite the charm of great expressiveness with that of

profoundly scientific execution. The attentive student of art is well

aware how easily the former quality unsupported by the latter may

degenerate into the cloying exhibition of sentiment, and is equally

aware of the sterility of the latter practised for itself alone. With

expressiveness for her goal and the means of rendering technical

problems for her preoccupation, Miss Cassatt has arrived at hard-earned

triumphs of accomplishment. One has only to turn from one of her

recently exhibited pictures to another painted ten or twelve years ago

to appreciate the length of the way she has come. The earlier painting,

an oil color, is of a woman in a striped purple, white, and green gown,

holding a half-naked child, who is engaged in bathing its own feet, with

the absorbed expression on its face common to children occupied with

such responsible tasks. The bricky flesh tints of the faces and hands,

and the greenish half-tones of the square little body are too highly

emphasized, but a keen perception of facts of surface and construction

is obvious in the well-defined planes of the child's anatomy, in the

foreshortened, thin little arm pressing firmly on the woman's knee and

in the stout little legs, hard and round and simply modeled. There is

plenty of truth in the picture, but in spite of an almost effective

effort toward harmony of color, it lacks what the critics call "totality

of effect." The annotation of the various phenomena is too explicit, the

values are not finely related, and there is little suggestion of

atmosphere.

In the later picture this crudity is replaced by a beautiful fluent

handling and the mastery of tone. The subject is again a woman and

child, the latter just out of its bath, its flesh bright and glowing,

its limbs instinct with life and ready to spring with uncontrollable

vivacity. The modeling of the figures is as elusive as it is sure, and

in the warm, golden air by which they seem to be enveloped, the

well-understood forms lose all suggestion of the hardness and dryness

conspicuous in the early work. Another recent painting of a kindred

subject, _Le lever de bebe_, shows the same synthesis of detail, the

same warmth and richness of tone, the same free and learned use of line.

Obviously, Miss Cassatt has come into the full possession of her art and

is no longer constrained by the struggle, sharp and hard as it must have

been, with her exacting method--a method that has not at any time

permitted the sacrifice of truth to charm. Since art is both truth and

charm, record and poetry, there is a great satisfaction in watching the

flowering of a positive talent, after the inevitable stages of

literalism are passed, into the beauty of intelligent generalization. In

all the later work there is the important element of ease, a certain

graciousness of style, that enhances to a very great degree the beauty

of the serious, dignified canvases. And from the beginning these have

shown the admirable qualities of serenity and poise. There is no

superficiality or pettiness about these homely women with their deep

chests and calm faces, peacefully occupying themselves with their sound,

agreeable children. The air of health, of fresh and normal vigor, is

the characteristic of the chosen type, and lends a suggestion of the

Hellenic spirit to the modern physiognomies.

[Illustration: CHILD RESTING

_From an etching by Mary Cassatt_]

If, however, in her technique and in the feeling of quietness she

conveys, Miss Cassatt recalls the classic tradition, she is intensely

modern in her choice of natural, unhackneyed gesture, and faces in which

individuality is strongly marked and from which conventional beauty is

absent. Occasionally, as in the picture shown at Philadelphia in 1904,

and in the fine painting owned by Sir William C. Van Horne, we have a

face charming in itself and modeled in a way to bring out its

refinement, but in the greater number of instances the rather heavy and

imperfect features of our average humanity are reproduced without

compromise, with even a certain sense of triumph in the beautiful

statement of sufficiently ugly facts and freedom from a fixed ideal.

Nothing, for example, could be less in the line of academic beauty than

the quiet bonneted woman in the opera-box shown at the Pennsylvania

Academy in 1907. She has her opera-glass to her eyes and her pleasant

refined profile is cut sharply against the light balustrade of the

balcony. Other figures in adjoining boxes are mere patches of color and

of light and shade, telling, nevertheless, as personalities so acutely

are the individual values perceived and discriminated. The color is

personal and interesting, the difficult perspective of the curving line

of boxes is mastered with amazing skill; the fidelity of the drawing to

the forms and aspects of things seen gives expression to even the

inanimate objects recorded--and to painters who have tried it we

recommend the subtlety of that simply modeled cheek! The whole produces

the impression of solid reality and quick life and we get from it the

kind of pleasure communicated not by the imitation but by the evocation

of living truth. We note things that have significance for us for the

first time--the fineness of the hair under the dark bonnet, the pressure

of the body's weight on the arm supported by the railing, the relaxation

of the arm holding the fan, and very clever painting by artists of less

passionate sincerity takes on a meretricious look in contrast with this

closeness of interpretation.

This, perhaps, is the chief distinction of Miss Cassatt's art--closeness

of interpretation united to the Impressionist's care for the transitory

aspect of things. She follows the track of an outline as sensitively if

not as obviously as Ingres, and she exacts from line as much as it is

capable of giving without interference with the expressiveness of the

whole mass. She takes account of details with an unerring sense for

their appropriateness. She selects without forcing the note of

exclusion, and she thus becomes an artist of sufficiently general appeal

to be understood at once. She is not merely intelligent, but

intelligible; her art has no cryptic side. It is only the initiated

frequenter of galleries who will pause to reflect how tremendously it

costs to be so clear and plain.

In her etchings and drawings Miss Cassatt early arrived at freedom of

handling. The more responsive medium gave her an opportunity to produce

delightful studies of domestic life while she was still far from having

attained an easy control of pigment and brush. Her dry-points, pulled

under her own direction and enriched with flat tints of color, are

interesting and expressive, rich in line and large and full in modeling.

The color was not, however, wholly an improving experiment. Under the

friendly influence of time it may become an element of beauty, since in

no case is it either commonplace or crude, but in its newness it lacks

something of both delicacy and depth. The later etchings without color

are more nearly completely satisfying. The three charming

interpretations of children recently sent over to this country are full

of freshness and life, and are admirable examples of the brilliant use

of pure line. The attitude of the child in the etching reproduced here

is, indeed, quite an extraordinary feat of richness of expression with

economy of means. The heavy little head sagging against the tense arm,

the small, childish neck and thin shoulder are insisted upon just

sufficiently to render the mood of light weariness, and the little

face, full of individuality, is tenderly observed and modeled with

feeling. The psychological bent of the artist, her interest in the

portrayal of mental and moral qualities, is nowhere more clearly

revealed than in her drawings of children. She has never been content to

reproduce merely the physical plasticity and delicacy of infancy, but

has shown in her joyous babies and dreamy little girls at least the

potentiality of strong wills and clear minds. Great diversity of

character and temperament are displayed in the expressive curves of the

plump young faces, and the eyes, in particular, questioning, exultant,

wondering, reflective or merry, betray a penetrating and subtle insight

into the dawning personality under observation.

[Illustration: From the Wilstach Collection, Philadelphia.

ON THE BALCONY

_From a painting by Mary Cassatt_]

One of her earliest works recently has been added to the Wilstach

collection in Philadelphia. It shows a man and two women on a balcony.

The straight line of the balcony railing stretches across the foreground

without any modification of its rigid linear effect. The man's figure is

in shadow, barely perceptible as to detail, yet indicated without

uncertainty of drawing or vagueness of any kind, a solid figure the

"tactile values" of which are clearly recognized. One of the women is

bending over the railing in a half-shadow while the other lifts her face

toward the man in an attitude that makes exacting requirements of the

artist's knowledge of foreshortening. The whole is duskily brilliant

in color, full of the sense of form, simple, dignified, sturdy, opulent.

It shows that Miss Cassatt held at the beginning of her career as now,

valuable ideals of competency and lucidity in the interpretation of

life.

[Illustration: WOMAN WITH A FAN

_From a painting by Mary Cassatt_]

MAX KLINGER

III

MAX KLINGER

Artists Past and Present; Random Studies · 第 1 / 8 段