TH CENTURY
ILLUSTRATED MONTHLY
MAGAZINE.
November 1885 to April 1586
THE CENTURY C?, NEW-YORK.
F.WARNE & C2, LONDON.
Vol. XXXL New Series Vol. IX:A FRENCH PAINTER AND HIS PUPILS.
YOUNG painter of Boston, Mr. Robert
C. Hinckley, in the fall of 1872 wished to
become a pupil of the well-known Parisian
artist, M. Carolus Duran. M. Duran refused,
but told him that if he would take a studio
he would occasionally come and see his work.
The studio was taken, in conjunction with
Paul Batifaud-Vaur, Duran visiting them reg-
larly every Tuesday and Friday, and refus-
ing, then as now, all compensation. Others
joined the class, new quarters were taken, and
in 1873 there were about a dozen students,
two-thirds of them American or English, and
the rest French. For a time there was a Per-
san among them. The class has greatly in-
creased in size, at one time nearly half of the
fifty members being American. The school at
present is at 110 Boulevard du Port Royal.
‘Among the Americans who have been mem-
bers of the class are Messrs. John S. Sargent,
Carroll Beckwith, Will H, Low, Charles Mel-
ville Dewey, Theodore Robinson, Kenyon
Cox, Frank Fowler, Walter L. Palmer, Ralph
Curtis, Stephen Hills Parker, and Alexander
Harrison.
M. Duran is as popular as ever among his.
students, whom he generously continues to
favor twice a week with his teaching. Twice
each month M. Duran gives to his pupils a sub-
jectforasketch. A day is fixed for the bringing
in of the sketches, and, after the regular lesson
of the day, the easels are put aside and the
sketches, al ofthe same subject, in charcoal,
rayon, or oil, are placed in a good light, on
the floor, stools, or easels; the professér takes
aseat, lights a cigarette, and the pupils gather
around to listen to the criticisms of their
works, Often these criticisms lengthen into
talks, or, as Monsieur Duran entitles them,
“lessons.” Some of them have happily been
preserved for the outside world by one of the
scholars, who has reported them stenograph-
ically. A selection of these is presented below.
A.
LESSONS TO MY PUPILS.
First Lesson,
Is patnTiN simply an imitative art ? No;
itis, above all, an art of expression. There is
ot one of the great masters of whom this is
nottrue, Even the masters who were most ab-
sorbed by outward beauty, being influenced by
itaccording to thesensitivenessof theirnatures,
understood that they neither could nor ought
Vou. XXXL—38.
to reproduce anything but the spirit of nature
either in form or color. Thus it happens that
these masters have interpreted nature,and not
given a literal translation. ‘This interpretation
is precisely what makes the personality of each
of them. Without this individual point of
view there can be no really original work.
This shows how dangerous are those schools
that, restricting the artists to the same meth-
ods, do not permit them to develop their in-
dividual feeling. These schools, however, make
use of a very respectable motto: “Tradition.”
But what are we all but the result of tradition ?
—only we ought to be free to choose in the
direction that agrees with our aspirations, and
not have imposed upon us those of another
man, however great he may be.
In the French school, since Ingres, the
tradition comes from Raphael. That’ was
very well for Ingres, who freely chose the
master from whom he really descended; but
we who have other needs, who desire reality,
—less beautiful, without doubt, but more
passionate, more living, more intimate-—we
should search a guide among the masters
who responds most fully to our temperament.
Imagine the painters of the seventeenth
century in Spain, Flanders, or Holland obliged
to follow in the footsteps of Raphael instead
of the inspiration of their individual genius!
What would have become of their produc-
tions? Instead of Velasquez, Rembrandt, Ru-
bens, Teniers, Ostade, and Brauwer, we
should have had a lot of would-be Raphaels,
counterfeited, stunted, and grotesque,—acom-
monplace and disheartening plagiarism sub-
stituted for their sincerely and extremely
varied chefi-d’euvre,
‘The example that I have just given you in
the past has a singular application at present,
when the same causes are producing the
same disastrous results, It is as absurd to at-
tempt to impose on artists one and the same
mold in which all — powerful or weak, impas-
sioned or timid — must form their thought, a8
it would be to constrain them to modify their
physical natures until all should resemble a
given model. Art lives only by individual ex-
pression. Where would we be if the great
masters of all times had only looked to the
past—they who not only prepared, but made
the future? Works of art can only be pro-
duced by the recalling of our aspirations and
experiences. To live one’s work is the condi-
tiny the sine gua non, ofits power and of ts
truth,34
These principles apply not only to “com-
positions,” but also to the painting of por-
traits, which many wrongly believe to be
another art, because the greater part of por-
trait painters have only represented the vis-
ible form of their subject. If we study the
masters that are looked upon as first in this
order, we shall see that they have not been
contented with the material appearance, but
that, putting themselves aside, they have
sought the particular characteristics of the
model —his mind and his temperament as
well as his manner. To place all one’s mod-
els on the same background is like serving all
kinds of fish with the same sauce.
‘We will review some of those who, right or
wrong, have come down to us as types : Hol-
bein, Velasquez, Rembrandt, Titian, Raphael,
Van Dyck. Which of these painters best
agrees with the ideas I have just expressed ?
Among the persons painted by Holbein, Ve-
lasquez, and Rembrandt, there is not one
that does not seem to be known to you in-
timately. You exclaim, in spite of yourself:
“1 feel as if I knew him — what a good like-
ness it must be!” Each has his own individ-
uality apart from the habits and plastic ten-
dencies of the painter. Titian, in spite of his
admirable works in this art, is a transition be-
tween these first and those less close in their
yal of the individuality of their subjects.
Raphael, in his love for beauty and harmony,
‘only heeded the model posing before him as
far as it coincided a his ideal. In all his
portraits we see Raphael ; but it is impossible
fo disengage the precise individuality of the
person portrayed.* In Van Dyck it is yet
more noticeable, He has painted commoners
and nobles, giving them all the same style,
the same elegance, that sprang from his own
taste and graceful personality.
‘This necessity of self-abnegation, indispen-
sable to the portraitist, is the only thing that
separates the portrait from composition. 1
leave to Ingres, who did wonders in this
direction, and to Delacroix, who really was
unable to make a portrait, the task of saying
to which of these two genres supremacy be-
longs —if supremacy there be. Ingres said
that only the greatest masters had made true
portraits. Delacroix wrote, with a sadness that
one feels between the lines, that portraiture is
the most difficult thing in art. I myself believe
that each offers different but equivalent difficul-
ties, the placing on view of one person being
‘as complex as that often. Ina picture you must
draw all from your own soul,—your remem-
brance of the phenomena of nature and your
feeling toward nature, your past joys and griefs.
A FRENCH PAINTER AND HIS PUPILS.
Second Lesson.
The Flight into Egypt.
‘TweRe are two methods of understanding 2
subject. It may be treated heroically or in-
timately. In the latter case the artist enters
into the life of the personages that he desires
to represent, observing them as human beings;
as it were, following them; taking account
of their impressions, their joys, and their suf-
ferings, The heroic manner, on the contrary,
expresses but an instant of their life, when
raised to an exceptional pitch. ‘The person-
ages presented are, as you might say, deified,
so much do they seem to be absolved from
the daily necessities of humanity. But, for
this very reason, they lose many sympathetic
charms that we only find in beings living,
thinking, and suffering like ourselves. The latter
alone can move us, because we find our own
experiences in their melancholy, their terrors,
their passions.
The heroic method, necessarily restricted,
is obliged to impose upon its personages a
sort of conventional grandeur that suppresses
the better part of their originality.
In the subject that now occupies us, let us
take our personages at their starting-point and
accompany them through the different episodes
that must have marked their precipitate flight.
You all know the legend. Joseph is warned
in a dream that the time has come to quit
Judea with the Virgin Mary and the Divine
Child. Picture to yourselves the incidents of
this departure. See the group precipitately
leaving in the night; follow them hour by
hour; imagine the scenes that must have fol-
lowed one another, at the moming fires, in
the glimmering twilight, in the moonlight, or
under the bright light of day.
Tiepolo has made, in thought, this journey
as Ihave indicated it to you; he has pic-
tured these episodes; very many of them
are most touching and very delicately felt
He has portrayed the solitude of a hamlet
during the night; the holy travelers are crost
ing it hastily, not daring to trust themselves
to any hospitality. Then, farther on, they ar-
rive on the banks of a river that ‘must be
crossed. Angels push the boat, and, farther
on, the Virgin Mary is supported by them as
they climb a steep ascent.
You are not to imitate Tiepolo, nor to bear
in mind his compositions ; but you must pro-
ceed like him. It is the only way to avoid
the commonplace— the only way to find
charmingly intimate scenes; the child Jesus
crying, smiling, or being nursed by his mother.
*M, Duran, we think, will not find many to agree with him in so sweeping a
‘condemnation of Raphael's portraits.—Ep1ToR.A FRENCH PAINTER AND HIS PUPILS.
The travelers have rested in the shade, as you
might have done; they have had in their
flight a crowd of emotions, such as you may
have felt in your journeys. Call up your re-
membrances and apply them, so that the per-
sonages may be before your eyes, moving,
walking, resting, forming a whole with the
nature that surrounds them and of which they
reflect the influence.
This sympathy that has made you live in
thought with your subjects has shown them
to you in varied circumstances, under the
numerous effects of light, shade, or twilight.
Choose one of these effects—that one of which
you have kept the clearest and most vivid
remembrance. Your group must harmonize
with the hour, solemn or cheerful, that you
have chosen, ‘As you are very different from
one another, your compositions will reflect the
variety of your natures.
‘This habit of living with your personages
will have the effect of presenting them to
your mind under a fixed form. Having fol-
lowed and analyzed all their actions, all their
sentiments, you will in the end know them
as if they were real beings. It will appear to
be the remembrance of an actual scene.
Do not hurry to place this vision on can-
vas. Turn it over in Your mind, that it may be
refined and completed at every point of view.
It is only when you have,thus mentally elabo-
rated your composition, that you should de-
Gide to execute it; for then you will have
lived it.
Third Lesson.
Subject of Sketch : Circe.
To vector upon their attitudes, to compose
the groups, to give variety to all parts of this
subject, you would have to make the same
reasoning that I recall to you continuously.
You must take into account the character of
the personages, the actions they have just
passed through’ before the decisive moment
that can best be reproduced by painting. It
is by this retrospective study of the acts and
gestures of your heroes that you will be able
to introduce among them that variety without
which there is no picturesqueness. The action
of each, in harmony with the action preced-
ing it, will give an impression of life. The
character of each individual must be pre-
served, making the scene interesting by the
diferent manifestations of the same sentiment.
Thus, in the subject that occupies us, what
were Ulysses’s companions doing at the mo-
ment that Circe’s wand touches them and
changes them into swine? They were de-
grading themselves by the misuse of pleasures,
ttl they had fallen t0 the level of the brutes,
375
‘Those who descend to this level have lost the
sign of human dignity; they are touched by
the wand; that is to say, they have trans-
formed themselves into swine. Some as-
sumed, laughing coarsely, the bestial mask;
others are in a state of dejected stupefaction ;
others wallow with a sort of fury, seeming to
forget already that they have been human
and have known how to hold themselves erect.
‘Then, in the midst of this orgy (where only
one companion refuses to abdicate his reason),
see rising up the complex and mysterious figure
of Circe.
Fourth Lesson,
Subject of Sketch: The Birth of Venus.
In the Grecian mythology Venus is the
goddess of love. Her birth is the festival of
life. The daughter of the inconstant waves
brings to the world, of which she is to be the
queen, youth, light, the pleasure of the senses,
the attraction of the flesh.
So much for the moral personification of
the subject ; let us now seek the physical side,
All are transported at the sight of this beau-
tiful moist body, the long, floating hair, and
the juvenile grace. We might say that the in-
habitants of the waves had decked themselves
in their finest toilets to receive and do her
honor. They are intoxicated with delight.
Musset has said admirably :
“ Regrettez-vous le temps oi le ciel sor la terre
Marchait et respirait dans ‘un peuple de diewx
Od Venus Astarté, fille de onde amére,
Secouait, vierge encor, les larmes de sa 'mére,
Et fécondait le monde en tordant ses cheveux?”
We have found the temperament of our
subject ; let us now see its picturesque points.
Let us enter into the pagan world as well as
our own; give to this divine beauty noisy
mirth, a gay uproar of amorous nymphs, of
Tritons in shell armor, blonde and dimpled
cupids, and birds of variegated plumage. We
have not roses enough in our palette to throw
at the feet of her who brings love and life to
a dazzled and grateful world. Place around
Venus everything that loves, for she is the
personification of this exquisite and ideal sen-
timent. Here, then, is the work in your im-
agination. Let it now become plastic. Call to
mind all that has been painted on this subject.
‘You will see how few artists have understood
it; how superficial they have been, When
Venus appears, she is pure; no one is born
unchaste, She is yet ignorant of her empire.
It is not only Venus that must be pictured ;
it is what she represents, what she makes us
experience. Itis the festival of youth—Venus
in the highest expression of her glory. Your376
love, your need of loving, must be questioned,
To have a response, touch the most secret
strings of your heart. Imagine that love, un-
til now unknown, has come to the world ;
that inclosed in her quiver are not onl
sharpened arrows, but also the highest ambi-
tions that ennoble man.
“Ce que l'homme ici bas appelle le génie—
Crest le besoin d’aimer,” Pe Ge
‘Musset has said. Remember your emotions
when you were twenty and loved for the first
time.
T would make Venus almost like a Ma-
donna, painting her with a religious senti-
ment. ’ Like an immaculate lily opening in the
sun, she enters into life radiant with beauty,
as chaste, as pure as the foam of the waves,
I would ‘make her appearing majestic and
superb; the entire earth should come to her.
For, let us insist upon it, she gives to the en-
raptured world unlimited felicity, inundating
it with a flood of light ; sensuality is replaced
by the union of hearts. This searching for
expression gives us at once numberless acces-
sory personages.
Recall the pictures that have been made
on this subject, and you will be struck by the
small degree of logic, the little common sense as
there is to be found in them, ‘Their author
have lived more through their eyes than by
their hearts and brains.
Raphael, in a picture that is entitled the
“Triumph of Galatea,” but which I think
should perhaps be called “The Birth of
Venus,” has understood nothing of the subject.
I say 50, in spite of all clamors and the fact that
it is the custom to call ita chef@euore. Evi-
dently it contains charming points, admirable
from a plastic point of view, but, from an as-
thetic point of view, nothing. Beautiful forms,
always beautiful forms; Raphael is always har-
monious, elegant, but he has never emotions,
is never a true thinker. If Raphael, if
Titian, have not grasped this subject, what
shall we say of others who have attempted it ?
It is in seeking the human side, the inti-
mate side, that you will solve the enigma.
Your joy, your conviction, your entire nature
should contribute to your work. You must
live that which you would paint.
Fifth Lesson.
Subject of Sketch : Romeo and Juliet.
Wun you would take a subject from a
legend, a drama, or a poem, you must know
A FRENCH PAINTER AND HIS PUPILS.
how to find the characteristic of the work;
you must be able to choose the situation that
will give the most complete idea of the poet's
creation. This or that episode would only be
an illustration. It is the synthesis that you
should give,— the entire essence of the work
thus passing into your picture, and not a mere
reflection of the thought of another.
What is Romeo? What is Juliet? It is
not by reproducing this or that scene of
Shakspere’s drama that you can paint these
creations of his genius. It is in presenting
them in their most striking aspect that you
best convey the idea you have formed of them.
If you represent only the griefs, the tears, the
death of Juliet and her lover, you give but
one phase of their existence ; you have not
expressed them.
‘Before all and above all, they are the ex-
pression of love—love with all its youth, all
Its ardor, its heedlessness, its apprehensions,
and its delirium!
I have given you this subject of Romeo
precisely to see if you understand what is the
dominant emotion, and to recommend you
always to seek for it. Now, the dominant
note of “Romeo and Juliet” is, we have
said, love; as “ Othello” is violent jealousy,
“Macbeth” is an iffordinate ambition, as
“Hamlet” is a painful reverie mastering a
fine but unbalanced intelligence, born for a
calm life, but forced into action.
‘Ask yourselves then what Shaks}
at in writing his drama. Lovers,
You must paint, then, lovers. If you had this
story to illustrate, you would make drawings
of the duel, balcony, or grave scene,—making
your compositions more or less dramatic. But
when you have “ Romeo and Juliet ” to char-
acterize, you are bound to give appropriate
expression to the sentiment that exhales from
the whole work.
‘Any other subject presenting the same
characteristics of passionate and exalted love
would interest us equally. It is the picture of
love that moves us, not the personality of
those who experience it. Ask your heart how
to paint Romeo and Juliet. it will give you
aresponse. Then you will be eloquent.
‘That which will make the celebrity in the
future of all of us who are occupied with art,
will not be our cleverness, but perhaps a litde
ray of personality. You will be nothing if you
imitate another, be he ever so great; you
will be some one, even the humblest of you,
if you are true to yourselves. You must love
glory more than gold, art more than glory—
and nature more than all.
aimed
he not?
Carolus Duran,