Pierre Puvis de Chavannes was born at Lyons, December 14, 1824. His
parents were in affluent circumstances and were connected with one of
the old Burgundian families. His father pursued the vocation of chief
engineer of mines, at Lyons. In the registry of births, in which the
new-born child was entered, the father is designated simply by the name
of Marie-Julien-César Puvis. The honourable title of "de Chavannes,"
claimed later and with good right by the family, was confirmed to him
by a decree of the Court of Lyons, bearing date of May 20, 1859.
Young Puvis de Chavannes was sent, first to the Lycée at Lyons, later to
the Lycée Henri IV, at Paris. But nothing either in the boy's tastes or
in his aptitudes gave any hint of his future vocation; he showed no
special inclination for drawing, nor even for art in general. Son of a
mining engineer, he applied himself naturally to the exact sciences; and
he would probably have donned the uniform of a polytechnic student, had
it not been for an illness which the family looked upon as most
unfortunate, but which posterity regards as providential. The young man
was forced to interrupt his studies and bid good-bye to mathematics. Two
years later he took a trip to Italy, in the company of a young married
couple. In true tourist fashion he made the rounds of museums and
churches; he conscientiously inspected the great masterpieces in which
the peninsula abounds; but, by his own admission, he brought back no
real profit from his travels. They were not, however, entirely futile,
since they awakened in him the desire to become a painter. Upon
returning to France he announced his determination to his family, and
having won their consent, entered the studio of Henri Scheffer, brother
of Ary Scheffer.
Italy, seen too hastily, had taught Puvis de Chavannes nothing: the
studio hardly served him to better purpose. But, through contact with
Henri Scheffer, he acquired a respect not only for art but for the
conception which each one must form of it for himself. The young
neophyte, who was destined in later years to be himself a living example
of fidelity to an ideal, remained forever thankful to the author of
_Charlotte Corday_ for having imbued him with this noble sentiment. He
always retained of him, throughout life, an affectionate and grateful
memory.
Scheffer's paintings, however, were far from satisfying his personal
conception of art. Before very long he left his studio and betook
himself to that of Delacroix. The latter admitted him readily; but the
new pupil was not slow in discovering that here again he was out of his
element. The great romantic painter, although an admirable artist, was a
mediocre instructor. He alone, for that matter, could risk the violent
colour schemes with which he covered his canvases; his pupils succeeded
only in accentuating a debauch of thick-spread pigments by coupling
together tones that cried aloud from the walls of the studio. The
instinct of harmony and of proportion which was already awakening in
Puvis de Chavannes, revolted against these audacities: he found himself
ill at ease in the midst of this orgy of colour. It was after no such
fashion that nature appeared to his eyes. He had about made up his mind
to leave the studio of Delacroix when the latter, angered by criticisms
and piqued at seeing the attendance falling off, decided to close his
doors.
It was at this time that young Puvis entered the studio of Couture.
There again his stay was brief, and we find in his work few traces of
the lessons there received. Once again it was only the conventional and
artificial that were held up as object lessons for that young soul
enamoured of the truth, for those wide-opened eyes that saw nature
precisely as she is, and not under the tinsel glitter of fantasy under
which the studio of the period draped her. It followed that he learned
nothing from that school; nevertheless, he did not disown it. In the
annual Salon Catalogue, Puvis de Chavannes continued to proclaim himself
a pupil of Scheffer and of Couture.
Once again the young painter found himself without a master, yet still
eager to learn and as yet equipped with only a mediocre and highly
defective rudimentary training. Convinced that he would never obtain the
right start in any of the studios of the French capital, he determined,
in company of one of his friends, Beauderon de Vermeron, to go in search
of definite guidance, back to that same Italy which he had visited the
first time with such small profit. This time he studied all the periods,
all the schools, all the methods of Italian painting; he visited both
Rome and Florence; and yet all his sympathies, as he himself declared,
went out instinctively to the Venetian school which had produced Titian,
Tintoretto, and, greatest of all, Veronese, inimitable prince of fresco
and of decoration.
Returning to Paris, Puvis de Chavannes no longer dreamed of soliciting
the guidance of any school; henceforth he was to pursue his own path,
to give heed only to his own temperament, to draw his inspiration only
from nature herself. In the Place Pigalle he hired a studio, the same
which he was destined to occupy for forty-four years, and which he
quitted only two years before his death. Later on he possessed another,
at Neuilly, in which to work upon his larger compositions, since there
would not have been space enough for them in the Montmartre studio.
Whatever the weather, through cold and through heat, Puvis de Chavannes
could be seen, for more than thirty years, making his way on foot, with
long, rapid strides, from the Place Pigalle to Neuilly or in the reverse
direction. This daily promenade grew to be a necessity; it was the sole
recreation of this painter so enslaved by his art that in a certain
sense he might be called a Benedictine of painting.
In 1852, the date when his real career began, Puvis de Chavannes was
twenty-eight years of age. He was at this time a handsome young fellow,
tall of stature and large of frame, quick-witted, jovial and
enthusiastic, and combining the whole-souled simplicity of the artist
with the polished manners of a man of the world, inherited from his
father. Many people conceive of Puvis de Chavannes as melancholy and
sombre. Nothing could be further from the truth. He was fond of all the
joys of living, friendly gatherings, abundant good cheer. But what he
prized above all, thanks to the perfect balance of his physique, was the
ability to apply his robust health to incessant work, which he pursued
without intermission up to the day of his death.
In 1850, Puvis de Chavannes made his début by sending to the Salon a
_Pietà_, which was accepted. His joy was great, for it was the joy of
the first step. Later on, his satisfaction in that picture diminished.
It had certain defects, and gave evidence of inexperience, which the
young painter was quick to perceive. That same year he painted _Jean
Cavalier at the bed-side of his Mother_, and an _Ecce Homo_, bold in
execution and violent in tone.
[Illustration: PLATE III.--THE POOR FISHERMAN
(In the Musée de Luxembourg, Paris)
No one else, excepting Millet, had the skill to render with so much
truth the physical and moral distress of the unfortunate. This resigned
fisherman, bending his back under the inclement sky, is a veritable
masterpiece, both in execution and in observation.]
In 1852, the pictures which he submitted to the Salon were rejected by
the jury, and this ostracism continued for several years. It was an
epoch when every effort towards artistic independence was officially and
systematically repressed. The young artist was not alone in
disfavour; he shared it with a number of his friends, some of whom were
already famous, or at least well known. Equally with himself, Courbet,
Dupré, Barye, Rousseau, Millet, Troyon, Corot, Diaz and Delacroix found
themselves ejected from the doors of the temple. In the eyes of the
Academy, they were all of them madmen or revolutionaries; for his part,
he was treated with less honour: he was regarded as a maniac of no
importance. His exclusion lasted for nine years, during which the
critics and the public united in making him the target for their
sarcasms.
Puvis de Chavannes was always keenly sensitive to criticism; it cut him
to the quick, but he prided himself on showing no outward sign. He
repaid it by affecting the most complete disdain. When anyone in his
presence bestowed only a qualified praise on one of his works, his lips
would betray his scorn in a faint crease, which Rodin, another
misunderstood giant, has admirably caught in his buste of the painter.
As it happened, however, Puvis de Chavannes was rarely fortunate in
having the encouragement and support of such an admirable companion as
the Princess Cantacuzène. That splendid woman, of exceptional
intelligence and distinction, enjoyed art and understood it; she fell in
love with Puvis de Chavannes and became his wife. "Whatever I am and
whatever I have done," wrote the painter, "is all due to her."
Throughout more than forty years, she filled the rôle of beneficent
genius to the artist, the Egeria whose voice he never failed to heed.
Puvis de Chavannes had worshipped faithfully at her shrine; and when she
died, he felt that the term of his own life had reached its end. He
survived her scarcely more than a few months.
Under the shelter of her far-sighted affection, the artist closed his
ears to hostile comments, and followed his bent, without trying to
modify his manner of seeing and feeling nature. None the less, the
paintings of this period are far from perfect; a certain constraint is
apparent in them, due to inexperience and also to some lingering
influence either of his studio training or of Italy. _The Martyrdom of
St. Sebastian_, _The Village Firemen_, _Meditation_, _Herodiade_,
_Julie_, _Saint Camilla at the_ _bedside of a dying man_, while they
reveal some very genuine personal qualities, are none the less somewhat
reminiscent of the manner of Couture, by whom he seems to have been most
directly influenced.
His first real picture, the one which first marked and fixed for all
time the artist's personality, was _Peace_, now in the Museum at Amiens.
So much knowledge and so much harmony were displayed in this picture
that the jury simply did not dare reject it. What is more, it won for
its author a medal of the second class. He was not slow in giving it a
companion piece, in the shape of a painting entitled _War_, which is now
also at Amiens.
In the first of these pictures, the one consecrated to the pleasures of
_Peace_, everything seems quite academic, the poses, the composition,
the countenances: and yet, there is no stiffness, everything is vibrant,
alive, palpitating in a serene and luminous atmosphere. The artist has
herein magnificently demonstrated the truth of a phrase which he wrote
to Ary Renan, in the course of a trip which the latter took to Italy:
"Just as you yourself feel and have very well expressed, no study of
other artists' work can trammel one's originality." Neither the memory
of Italy nor the influence of Couture had prevented him from asserting
himself, and that, too, vigorously.
_War_ is, if anything, superior to _Peace_. The painter is here wholly
himself. There is no longer in his work any trace of outside influence.
And what vigour there is, what eloquence, in the simplicity of the
composition! Is there in existence a more admirable argument against war
and its horrors? Beside the corpse of a young warrior, a father and
mother are prostrated, voicing aloud their anguish; and meanwhile the
conquerors, approaching from the far horizon black with devastation and
slaughter, blow their victorious trumpets and urge their horses forward
towards the group of mourners.
From that moment, Puvis de Chavannes began to command attention. He was
discussed more acrimoniously, more passionately than ever; no one could
neglect him nor pretend not to have heard of him.
The government bought _Peace_, but refused to purchase _War_, in spite
of the fact that the two paintings were companion pieces. In order to
prevent them from being separated, the artist generously donated the
second picture.
In 1863 came a new series representing _Labour_ and _Rest_. Faithful to
his principles, the author gathers together on his canvas the entire
cycle of actions and ideas suggested by his subject.
In _Labour_ he has placed in the foreground a group of blacksmiths,
representing, in his eyes, the fully developed type of the worker,
because of the degree of their exertion, the vigour of their action.
While two of them stir the fire, the others, armed with heavy sledges,
strike alternate blows upon the anvil. At no great distance, some
carpenters are squaring the trunks of trees; beyond, on the plain, a
peasant can be seen, guiding his ploughshare through its furrow. In the
foreground there is also a woman, nursing a young child. The entire
cycle of human toil is glorified in this single painting.
_Repose_ shows us an old man seated, giving to the young folk grouped
around him wise counsel, drawn from his long experience. Nothing could
be more graceful than the relaxed postures of the different figures,
who, we feel, are listening with real attention.
Since these four pictures, _Peace_, _War_, _Labour_, _Repose_, were the
interpretation of general ideas, the artist could not give them any
precise setting, any local colour. The nude, which is employed for all
the figures, was his sole means of obtaining absolute truth.
Already at this period one perceives in Puvis an anxious endeavour to
sacrifice all the little easy methods of winning acclaim, in order to be
free to concern himself solely with the harmony of his subject as a
whole. Throughout his entire life, he was destined to have no greater
preoccupation than that of effacing himself completely, and forcing the
public, when in the presence of his work, to see nothing but the work
itself and to give not a thought to the painter.
During the year 1864, the results of Puvis de Chavannes' industry were
fairly abundant. At the Salon, he exhibited two very beautiful canvases,
_Autumn_ and _Sleep_.
The first of these two pictures is symbolic and represents the different
ages of life in the form of women of unequal years. One of them, her
pensive face already marked with lines, watches her companions gathering
flowers and fruit, symbols of youth.
This work, charming in composition, is now in the collection of the
Museum at Lyons.
_Sleep_, a large decorative composition, after the manner of _Peace_ and
_War_, is in the Museum at Lille.