|So many contemporary French artists are designing posters, that a
single chapter dealing with them all would be of an alarming length. I
have therefore, in the first place, separated from their fellows three
who seem to me curiously individual and worthy of careful consideration.
Of the men whose names head this chapter, pre-eminence is due, for
various reasons, to Jules Cheret, whose position, in the matter of
poster-designing, is quite without parallel.
It may be that men of rarer, of more fascinating, talent have now and
again devoted themselves to the _affiche_; but none of them can compare
with Cheret in the magnitude and curiosity of his achievement. Many
have produced charming wall pictures: nobody, save Cheret, has made an
emphatic mark on the aspect of a metropolis. Paris, without its Cherets,
would be Paris without one of its most pronounced characteristics;
Paris, moreover, with its gaiety of aspect materially diminished. The
great masses of variegated colour formed by Cheret's posters greet one
joyously as one passes every hoarding, smile at one from the walls of
every cafe, arrest one before the windows of every kiosque. The merits
of the Saxoleine lamp, the gaieties of the Moulin Rouge, the charms
of Loie Fuller, the value of a particular brand of cough-lozenges, are
insisted upon with a good-humoured vehemence of which Jules Cheret alone
appears to know the secret. Others, in isolated cases, have possibly
achieved more compelling decorations, but none can pretend to a success
so uniform and so unequivocal. Few men as richly endowed with the gift
of decoration would! have been content to produce work which, were
it not for the portfolio of the collector, would be of an entirely
ephemeral character. It must be irritating to the artist to watch the
gradual destruction of his chefs-d'oeuvre, condemned as they are to
be torn by every wind, soaked by every shower, blistered by the sun,
blurred by the fog. It is natural that he should turn his eyes longingly
to the comparative permanence of canvas, marble, or bronze; and it
says much for Cheret's confidence in his artistic mission for his nice
realization of his possibilities and limitations that he has remained
faithful to the _affiche_ for over twenty years. Now and
[Illustration: 0046]
[Illustration: 0048]
again, it is true, he has turned aside to do work of more universally
recognized and more pretentious a character, and the very fact that he
has touched scarcely anything which he has not adorned, emphasises his
fidelity to a branch of art until quite recently despised and held of
little moment. It is, indeed, mainly owing to this devotion, to this
lavish expense of talent, that the poster is not even now considered
beneath the dignity of the collector. The judicious, as soon as their
eyes fell upon Cheret's vast lithographs, decided that he was no
mere colour-printer's hack, but an artist whose work would have to be
reckoned with. There was something positively alluring in the spectacle
of a man who calmly placed his gift at the disposal of the tradesman,
who accepted without murmur the limitations which the tradesman imposed
upon him. It is possible that, had it not been for the circumstances of
his life, the streets of Paris would have remained undecorated, so far
as Cheret was concerned, to this day. Commencing as the humblest of
lithographers, Cheret did not take up art of set intention, but passed
irresistibly, though it may be unconsciously, into it. After long years
of patient and tedious work as an ordinary lithographer, at the dawn
of the year 1866, he commenced what was destined to be the most notable
series of pictorial posters in existence, a series containing over a
thousand items, and one which happily has yet to close. It is doubtless
the conditions of his early life, the lessons learned while under the
yoke of trade, that have enabled Cheret to appreciate to the full
that the first business of an advertisement is to advertise. Avoiding,
therefore, all subtle harmonies, he goes in for contrasts of colour,
violent, it is true, but victorious in their very violence. Blazing
reds, hard blues, glowing yellows, uncompromising greens, are flung
together, apparently haphazard, but in reality after the nicest
calculation, with the result that the great pictures, when on the
hoardings, insist positively on recognition. One might as well attempt
to ignore a fall of golden rain, as to avoid stopping to look at them;
they are so many riots of colour, triumphant in their certainty of
fascinating and bewildering the passerby.
As may be imagined, Cheret's skill has fullest scope when dealing with
the lightest and gayest subjects: a _cascade de clowns_--to borrow
a phrase of Huysman--an entrance of ballet girls; a joyous troupe of
children, contented because toy-laden; these, and the like, are subjects
most congenial to him. His style is essentially the outcome of the day.
It possesses no decorative forerunners; it is not a thing derived; its
parents are the gaieties of modern Paris. It is intensely actual, and in
its actuality lies, it
[Illustration: 0052]
seems to me, its greatest claim to consideration. It is infused with a
somewhat hectic gaiety which holds a not unimportant place in the lives
of us suffering from this "sick disease of modern life." Of the sick
disease itself, Cheret gives no hint. He is unflagging in his vivacity,
unswerving in his insistence on the _joie de vivre_; instead of
pondering over the inevitable sorrow of life, he busies himself
depicting the naive grace of the child, the elegance of the mondaine.
His gifts lead him inevitably to such subjects. His merit as a
draughtsman lies, in part, in vivacious rather than correct line:
gaiety, as we have seen, is the chief quality of his colour: his
composition is remarkable on account of the piquancy and appropriateness
of its detail. He chooses with unerring fidelity the subjects suited
to his temperament and his gifts. These subjects are not of infinite
variety, and it follows that if one sees a great quantity of Cheret's
work together, one becomes aware of a certain feeling of monotony. One
can be satiated even of Cheret's gaiety and joyousness.
To attempt any account of Cheret's thousand and more posters, is
obviously impossible in any but an elaborate monograph devoted
exclusively to him. I can do no more here than comment on a few of the
most striking. It may be stated generally, that while the earlier ones
are rarest because most difficult to procure, the more recent designs
show the artist at his best. A mastery of chromo-lithography such
as his, cannot be obtained without many essays, some of which are
foredoomed to failure. In addition, Cheret has gradually improved alike
in the splendour of his colour, and the disposal of his pattern. Perhaps
he has never been happier in his treatment of children than in one or
two of the "Buttes-Chaumont" series. The joy of the little ones in the
possession of their new playthings is contagious. Utterly different in
kind, though not less conspicuously successful, is "Les Coulisses de
l'Opera au Musee Grevin," a delightfully piquant representation of a
group of premieres danseuses in the traditional costume. As a specimen
of amazingly effective and strangely beautiful colour, it would be
difficult to exceed the "Loie Fuller" series; while, in the matter of
pert gracefulness, Cheret has done nothing more delicious than the chic
little lady in the yellow dress who smiles at you in the "Pantomimes
Lumineuses." Anybody who could resist her fascinations would be a rival
to St. Anthony. No collector of course, will overlook the great series
of _affiches_ which Cheret has contrived for the Folies Bergere, the
Moulin Rouge, the Alcazar d'Ete, and similar places of amusement In
order to sum up his talent as a designer of posters, Cheret has produced
four decorative panels, which, although without lettering,
[Illustration: 0056]
[Illustration: 0058]
[Illustration: 0060]
[Illustration: 0062]
[Illustration: 0064]
[Illustration: 0066]
are posters to all intents and purposes, and would take their places on
a hoarding quite admirably. The subjects are most happily chosen; who,
better than Cheret, could symbolize, in manner light and fantastic,
music, comedy, pantomime, and dancing? The designs gain immensely,
insomuch as they are not disfigured with a legend, for, in spite of
the fact that the disposal of the lettering is of the very essence of
a poster, Cheret, for some reason known only to himself, leaves that
detail of his work to another designer, with results by no means
uniformly fortunate. Before leaving Cheret, it is only just to him to
point out that his work loses more than that of almost any other artist,
in the process of reproduction in black and white. It is impossible to
convey any idea of his amazing colour by means of a halftone block,
and therefore, fewer reproductions of his designs are included in these
pages than might be expected. Needless to say, he suffers greatly from
more or less unskilful imitators. For this reason, combined with the
fact that he is engaged on a series of decorations for the Paris Hotel
de Ville, his excursions into the art of the hoarding will be less
frequent than has been the case hitherto.
To turn from Cheret to Eugene Grasset, is to turn to an artist in whose
art career the poster is merely an incident. Grasset is a paragon of
versatility; there are literally no bounds to his comprehensiveness.
Besides being a painter of distinction, he has designed everything, from
stained glass to book-covers, from piano-cases to menus. Unlike
Cheret, he has been profoundly impressed by the work of old decorative
designers; he has certainly not disdained to borrow; his borrowings,
however, have been at once legitimate and intelligent. The Japanese, the
old Italians, and in a less degree, the ancient Greeks, have been laid
under contribution, with results which, if not amazingly original,
are at least delightful. It would be idle to pretend that, from the
standpoint of the advertiser, Grasset is the equal of Cheret. His sense
of beauty, his passion for decoration, make it impossible for him to
achieve the daring and victorious colour which is so effective in the
work of Cheret. A panel of his posters, side by side with a panel of
those of Cheret, is as a beautiful and somewhat quiet-hued wall-paper to
a cascade of flowers of every conceivable colour. While, however, this
is an important matter from the advertiser's point of view, it is of
little moment to the collector, whose primary object is to fill his
portfolios with things of beauty. At times, indeed, Grasset does achieve
irresistible advertisement; nobody, for instance, could overlook the
superb representation of Sarah Bernharct as "Jeanne d'Arc," standing
with splendid disdain amidst a forest of spears
[Illustration: 0070]
[Illustration: 0072]
and a shower of arrows, and waving above her head a great silken banner
embroidered with the _fleur-de-lis_. Again, one lingers before the
"Fetes de Paris," attracted by its
[Illustration: 0074]
fine decorative qualities. Of an entirely different kind is the
delicious little poster which the artist did for an exhibition of his
own work at the Salon des Cent in 1894; in the naive simplicity of the
thing, combined with its fine decorative quality, there is a hint of
Botticelli and the old Italians. The contrast between this poster,
slightly archaic as it is, and the realistic "Odeon Theatre" is
complete. The latter represents a charmingly graceful girl, in a
delicious modern gown, watching a play. She is accompanied by a
highly-proper looking matron, whose self-importance is enhanced by the
possession of a handsome dress and a wealth of jewels. Very pretty,
again, is the "Librairie Romantique," with the facade of Notre Dame in
the background. Less worthy of Grasset is the "A la Place Clichy," which,
in spite of the majestic old oriental who descants on the merits of an
elaborate carpet to a critical European, is somewhat commonplace. Among
the other productions of this artist, some of them excellent, but
not calling for special description, are the "Histoire de France,"
"Napoleon," "Chocolat Mexicain," and "L'Encre Marquet," as well as those
done to advertise a work on the capital cities of the world, and the
exhibition of the productions of French decorative artists held in 1893
at the Grafton Gallery. A bill designed for the South of France Railway
Company is curious, insomuch as it is unlike the other productions of
its designer. It consists of a series of pleasant little landscapes
wreathed in the characteristic fruits and flowers of the Riviera. The
colour is striking and the
[Illustration: 0076]
[Illustration: 0078]
poster full of sunshine. It is one of the merits of Grasset that he is
not, even in what is to him so small a matter as poster-designing, the
slave of a single style,
[Illustration: 0080]
although all his works are obviously from the same hand. Before leaving
him, it should in fairness be stated that the lettering of his bills is
ever appropriate and decorative. True artist that he is, he neglects no
detail whatsoever; in the smallest thing
[Illustration: 0081]
as in the greatest, he is not merely scrupulous, but even fastidious.
It is no dispraise of Cheret and Grasset to say that the work of Henri
de Toulouse-Lautrec is more fascinating than theirs. The designs of the
former two are alike in
[Illustration: 0082]
that they are charming, though charming in manner entirely different;
Lautrec's productions, alluring and powerful as they are, can by no
stretch of the word be so described. He does not seek to attract you
by joyousness of colour or grace of pattern, but rather to compel
your attention by the force of his realism or the curiosity of his
grotesqueness. For his posters are at once realistic and grotesque; they
are delineations of life as seen by a man who, possessing the most acute
powers of observation, is poignantly impressed by the incongruities
of modern life, the physical peculiarities of modern men. He has some
points of similarity with Hogarth, with Rowlandson; and the like, but
his art is quite non-moral; he has no mission to depict vice as either
hideous or ridiculous. His extraordinary "Reine de Joie," perhaps the
most powerful, and certainly the least agreeable, of his posters, is a
statement of fact rather than a criticism. This great bill, owing to
the vehemence of the expression on the faces of the three people it
represents, to the wonderful vigour of its line, to its extraordinarily
effective, though simple, colour, is one of the most powerful designs of
the kind ever accomplished. It may be doubted whether any book has been
advertised in so unforgettable a manner as _La Reine de Joie_.
For the Paris _cafe chantant_ artiste who possesses the charming name
of Jane Avril, this designer has devised a grotesque decoration, which
could not fail imperiously to call attention to her talents as a dancer.
Inspired it may be by her name, it may be
[Illustration: 0084]
by a happy accident, Lautrec has employed a scheme of colour in which
are found the pale
[Illustration: 0086]
tulip. Once having seen this work, the name, and indeed something of
the personality, of Jane Avril is impressed on one's mind. Moreover,
one easily recalls this unassuming poster vividly, when works of art,
consecrated by the admiration of generations of critics, are quite
forgotten, or only faintly remembered. No man of more passionate and
curious talent than Aristide Bruant has ever devoted himself to the
business of light amusement, and it was no doubt quite congenial to
Lautrec to advertise the performances which he gives in his cabaret.
Again, the artist's picture of another entertainer, Caudieux,
represented in the act of quitting the stage, is masterly for its
indication of movement and its powerful characterization. Bad from
the advertiser's point of view, but most interesting from that of the
collector, is the extremely rare "Le Pendu," a production which for
weird and intense tragedy compares to advantage with any of the artist's
posters. Scarcely less rare, though by no means so important, is the
_affiche_ done to advertise the performances of La Goulue at the Moulin
Rouge. A far more agreeable design is the "Divan Japonais," in which a
fearful and wonderful girl, accompanied by a man as fashionable as he
seems to be imbecile, is represented under the spell of Yvette Guilbert,
whose tall, thin figure is seen across the orchestra, her arms, in the
famous black gloves, being
[Illustration: 0088]
[Illustration: 0090]
[Illustration: 0092]
[Illustration: 0094]
crossed in front of her with characteristic nonchalance.
It is in no way astonishing that Mile. Guilbert has strongly attracted
Lautrec, and that he has frequently made her the subject of his work.
No music-hall performer has, so far, approached this brilliant woman in
ability or in artistic prestige. Like Patti and Sarah Bernhardt, she is
implored to testify to the merits of every brand of soap or every new
perfume; like them her reputation extends beyond the bounds of her
native place, and she is the admired of several foreign capitals. If
the flower of French art and literature assemble to honour Zola, the
proceedings are incomplete without a song from her; if the fastidious
De Goncourt is presented with the rosette of the Legion of Honour, what
more fitting than that she should deliver a recitation? In some degree
she sees the life of modern Paris in the same light as Lautrec; her
wonderful delineations are realistic as are his, though their realism is
touched with a suspicion of the grotesque. Amongst other things, she
has inspired Lautrec to a series of illustrations remarkable alike in
drawing and colour; and he has not disdained to design lithographs to
adorn the covers of different items of her _repertoire_. Owing to his
kindness, I am enabled to reproduce, as the frontispiece to this
volume, a sketch for a poster which he designed for her, but which,
unfortunately, has never got beyond the experimental stage. It seems to
me a specially interesting example of a remarkable talent applied to a
very congenial subject. The posters of Lautrec are something more than
works of art; they are human documents strangely eloquent of their
moment. For this reason, their value may be more permanent than that of
the productions either of Cheret or Grasset, delightfully fantastic as
are the former, charmingly decorative as are the latter.