Modern artists
Brinton, Christian, 1870-1942
£■; [•..:■'-. '■■.-<■ }. 4;- -^e ... i«*l ISf-f I Yi. KjU..,.M *^*%»*€-'; M, i I \ .^^m§m^mm*i^m>.,_ ^^'- Copyright 1908, by H. A. Can field 1 :**: "*•■-: npy* "* J « • .•,*•♦.* ^fe Wi3iW >-|w,. L. . fc* X .> 7 ' <*//; m A % .'-i Modern Artists l;fl I ^ /•* ,n«01 ■ ' \ APROPOS "¥TT JTHILE the thrill of the modern spirit loth in art and ww iw> life should obviously be the dominant note of the following pages, no conscious sacrifices have been made in behalf of any given theory or thesis. The aim has not been laboriously to trace the origin and development of certain more or less formative influences, but to reflect such tendencies in terms frankly specific and personal. Although, during the period covered, which embraces something over a century of production, the profile of art in general has yearly become more and more distinct, that which here takes prece- dence is the persuasive magic of the artist himself. In order the better to picture those contagious forces which are to-da/y vitalizing art in all lands the selection has purposely been broad and eclectic rather than narrow or local. A number of characteristic figures — not always the conventionally greatest or best known — have thus been chosen from various countries, ? and the attempt has been made to give a sense of the individu- ality of each man treated, and through the individual a feeling ^ for the conditions and surroundings, aesthetic and social, of his | actual or adopted home. The personal element and the ele- ment of nationality will hence inevitably prove the constant I factors in this series of interpretations. The former quality has long since won its title to consideration. It is as yet, how- ever, only vaguely realized that the latter is one of the artist's richest possessions. There are few more amiable fallcbdes than [T] 2797^1 \ MODERN ARTISTS the pretension that art should strive to be international and cosmopolitan, for in point of fact the men who have best suc- ceeded in becoming so are those whose performances have most emphatically borne the particular stamp of time and place. Elusive though unmistakable, sensitive though innately un- changeable, nationality is an element which should never, and indeed can never, be entirely overlooked. Every artist is in essence a nationalist. By freely expressing himself he cannot fail to suggest that larger heritage of which he shares but a slender portion. Though conforming to these general outlines, the present volume is not meant to be either speculative or sternly critical. It is frankly sympathetic and appreciative, and, in as far as possible, each man in turn has been permitted to plead his own cause through the facts of his life and the works of eye and hand. While it is true that the varied mani- festations of nineteenth-century art may here be followed from chapter to chapter with sufficient accuracy, the individual him- self will, it is hoped, always be found to stand the more firmly and humanly in the foreground of these sketches. Grateful acknowledgments are due the artists themselves whose efforts and achievements have been a continuous source of inspiration in the preparation of the ensuing pages, to owners whose paint- ings are herewith reproduced, and to those editors who have already welcomed certain sections of the material in its early and fugitive form. [Ti] CONTENTS PAGE Jean-Hoistore Fragonard 3 (Born Grasse, France, 5 April 1732; died Paris, 22 Au- gust 1806) Aotoine Wiertz. 25 (Born Dinant, Belgium, 22 February 1806; died Brussels, 18 June 1865) George Frederick Watts 43 (Born London, 23 February 1817; died London, 1 July 1904) Arnold Booklist gj (Born Basle, Switzerland, 16 October 1827; died Fiesole, near Florence, 16 January 1901) CONSTANTLY MeTJNIER 81 (Born Etterbeek, Brussels, 12 April 1831; died Brussels, 4 April 1905) James McNeill Whistler .. •. m .99 (Born Lowell, Massachusetts, 10 July 1834; died London, 17 July 1903) [vii] MODERN ARTISTS PAGE Franz von Lenbach 117 (Born Schrobenhausen, Upper Bavaria, 13 December 1836 ; died Munich, 6 May 1904) Ilya Efimovtfch Repin 135 (Born Chuguyev, Government of Kharkov, Bussia, 24 July 1844; resides St. Petersburg) John S. Sargent. 155 (Born Florence, 12 January 1856; resides London) John Layery 173 (Born Belfast, Ireland, 1857; resides London) Giovanni Segantini 191 (Born Arco, Austrian Tyrol, 15 January 1858; died near Pontresina, Upper Engadine, Switzerland, 29 Sep- tember 1899) Gam Melchers 211 (Born Detroit, Michigan, 11 August 1860; resides Egmond- aan-den-Hoef, Holland, Paris, and New York) J. J. Shannon 229 (Born Auburn, New York, 3 February 1862; resides London) Ignaoio Zitloaga. 245 (Born Eibar, Province of Vkcaya, Spain, 26 July 1870; resides Eibar and Paris) [viii] LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS (Plates in Colour) James McNeill Whistler Arrangement in Black and Brown — Portrait of Miss Rosa Corder. ., Frontispiece Franz yon Lenbach FACING PAGE Prince Bismarck 124 Gari Melchers Braban§onne 218 J. J. Shannon Miss Kitty 236 (Plates in Half-tone, with Tint) FACING PAGE Jean-Honore Fragonard Portrait of the artist painted by himself ...... 3 La Poursuite 6 Le Rendez-vous 11 La Lettre d* Amour 14 L'Amant Couronne 18 [ix] MODERN ARTISTS FACING PAGE Antoine Wiertz Portrait of the artist painted by himself 25 The Greeks and Trojans Contending for the Body of Patroclus 29 The Revolt of Hell against Heaven 32 A Scene in Hell 37 George Frederick Watts Portrait of the artist painted by himself 43 Orpheus and Eurydice 46 Algernon Charles Swinburne ....••• 50 Love and Life 56 Arnold Bocklin Portrait of the artist painted by himself ...... 61 Sleeping Diana 65 The Mand of Death 69 The Fields of the Blessed 73 COHSTANTIST MeUOTER Portrait of the artist by Max Liebermann 81 Antwerp Dock-Hand 82 Watering a Colliery Horse ... tWith unfailing spirit and accuracy the painters, sculptors, and architects of the Reign of Rococo gave to all they touched the precise physiognomy of the period. They were incomparably true to existing conditions, to that rose-tinted convention which was not to be crushed until the red dawn of the Revolution. Although it seems to stand apart, to display an abandon quite its own, French art of the eighteenth century recalls on one side the inflated eloquence of the Grand Sieele, and foreshadows, in a measure, all that came after. Scattered here and there throughout the span of Louis XIV are various gestures in bronze or plaster which presage the coming of Watteau, Pater, Lancret, and their followers. Certain of Coysevox's nymphs, Girar don's fountains, and chance wreaths, garlands, and cupids on palace wall or ceiling, hint that, smothered beneath this solemn pretence, lurked a gleam of joy and beauty which might some day relieve the august pomp of Le Brun's ' Histoire du Grand Monarque ' and the stateliness of Le Notre 's parks and gardens. If under de Maintenon all was rigid and constrained, official and perfunctory, with la Pompadour came a welcome freedom from control. Society had been too long on parade. [3] MODERN" ARTISTS Unnatural restraint gave way to licence frankly human, and austere splendour was replaced by the magic of personal en- chantment. As in life, so in art, there were no traces of pain or sorrow. A feverish reversion to pleasure was the only note sounded. Skies were perpetually blue, gallants languished about strumming guitars, and the greensward was dotted with shep- herds and shepherdesses beribboned and operatic. Existence became a pastoral now French, now Italian, now Spanish, and the world gaily embarked in flower-decked galleys for Cythera, unmindful of hoarse mutterings which were soon to sweep aside this fleeting moment of nonchalance. In essence the entire movement was a return to paganism, not the broad paganism of earlier days, but an ethereal paganism recording all the in- consequence of its hour. For the time being standards were strangely confused. Religion as well as reality was obscured. The crucifix and the crown of thorns were forgotten. Those bambini who tempered the zealous exaltation of numerous Um- brian and Flemish canvases, who with Raphael or van Dyck added such spontaneous charm, became mischievous amorini bent on missions dubious and diverting. Venus slipped into the niche so long sacred to Mary of Nazareth and Psyche shone cream-white amid the green of Versailles leafage. The chosen poet of all this radiant subversion, the one who best caught its particular accent, was not Watteau, so tinged with pensiveness, nor Boucher, who possessed every gift save the gift of truth, but Jean-Honore Fragonard. It was he whose purpose was clearest, he who reduced desire to its most infec- tious terms, he who joyously revived so many lost kisses and neglected caresses. Throughout his life Fragonard played and perpetuated the Comedy of Love. Femininity, perverse and en- dearing, he glorified in countless miniatures, portraits, fans, and decorative panels. Though he came last among the painters of Elysium, he imprisoned a beauty which had escaped all, [4] JEAN-HONORE FRAGONARD which had even eluded Antiquity and the Renaissance. This Cherubino of art had no avowed message for mankind, no defi- nite lesson to instil. He seemed content to follow prevailing modes. He wished only to delight and amuse, sometimes with fancies that recall not alone Ariosto and Boccaccio but the mel- lower wantonness of Propertius and Alciphron. And yet in the whole range of his production there is never the slightest note of insistence. It is an art which persuades, never repulses. Each of these little goddesses of pleasure can say, with Mozart's Zerlina, " Je consens, et je refuse." While having its origin in the desire to please and to attract, this art is nevertheless con- siderably more than a propitiation, a mere courting of favour whether of the public at large or of some wealthy patron. In addition to being typical of his epoch Jean-Honore Fragonard also ranks as a distinct precursor, as an unconscious, though unquestionable initiator. Long decried and ignored, he stands to-day among the most significant and original of eighteenth- century painters. In one phase or another of his work he antici- pates most of those truths of vision and treatment from which has sprung the vitality of the modern school. Beneath his astounding facility is a science which few have taken pains to discover. Nor is he always merely gay and volatile, for in the midst of his playfulness there sometimes escapes a cry of pas- sionate tenderness or foreboding. Though he made no preten- sions, and professed no theories, few artists the world over have surpassed in felicity, animation, and imperishable charm this light-hearted son of la Provence. Born at Grasse, 5 April 1732, in a little house in the rue de la Porte-Neuve near the place aux Herbes, the boy spent the first fifteen years of his life at home. Famed for its flowers and its perfumes, encircled by a silver-green fringe of olive trees, with, beyond, the sparkling rim of the sea, Grasse could scarcely fail to influence the lad's early impressions. Always, in his can- [5] MODERN AETISTS vases, sway and nod the trees and blossoms of Ms native land bathed in a violet mist blown from across the plain of Cannes. To the very last the background of his art retained those same dark masses of foliage, those bright flashes of colour, and the now gleaming, now vaporous skies of his birthplace. The son of a modest glovemaker, who was in turn descended from the Fragonardo, or Fragonardi, of near Milan, Jean-Honore found himself, at sixteen, articled to a notary in Paris, whither the family had gone in order to better their fortunes, Fragonard pere having meanwhile failed owing to certain unlucky invest- ments. Local tradition, with its infallible instinct for the pic- turesque and appropriate, avers that the youth made the trip all the way from Grasse afoot in company with Claude Gerard, one of whose daughters he was later to marry. He already wished to become a painter, an ambition which the good notary of the Chatelet heartily approved, so at the end of a few doleful weeks his mother took him to Boucher, then at the pinnacle of his fame. Too busy to instruct beginners, the facile " Peintre des Graces et des Amours " sent the boy to his friend, Chardin, then labouring with patient, searching conviction amid humble surroundings in the rue Princesse. It was inevitable that the sprightly, irrepressible little Meridional should have made scant progress under the sober painter of the bourgeoisie. Just as when with the notary, he spent most of the time wandering, wide-eyed and enthusiastic, about the teeming streets. He also visited the dim, solemn churches of the capital where hung so many rich toned canvases, and these he would eagerly copy from memory on returning home. Convinced, after some six months, that he could learn little from Chardin, the youthful aspirant went again to Boucher, this time bearing an armful of draw- ings. His reception proved different, for Boucher, recognizing his talent, welcomed him at once, and before long he was assist- ing with various decorative compositions or making replicas of [6] LA POURSUITE By Jean-Honore Fragonard [Courtesy of J. Pier font Morgan, Esq.] JEAN-HONORE FRAGONARD his fecund master's pictures. Alert and voluble, Fragonard instinctively felt at home in the big studio in the Bibliotheque du Roi which was thronged at all hours by pupils, models, and men and women of fashion, and where he must have seen " la belle Murphy " somewhat oftener than he did the seductive and easily consoled Mme. Boucher. The years in Rome, five in all, which were passed at the Palazzo Mancini under the not always approving eye of Natoire, or in the enlightening company of the abbe de Saint-Non, less abbe than distinguished amateur of the arts, held unmeasured richness for Fragonard. At first overwhelmed by Michelangelo and Raphael, he soon f ound his level among such masters as Barocci, Pietro da Cortona, Solimena, and Tiepolo. These he copied assiduously, readily catching the soft glow of purple light, or the sheen of satin robe held in place by jewelled hand. While Natoire and the Academie did much for him, Saint-Non did more, and it was during those lingering summer months spent at the Villa d'Este in company with the abbe that Frago- nard first responded to the silent throb of the antique world and the palpitating atmospheric beauty about him. From time to time they were joined by Hubert Robert, who was also at the [7] MODERN ARTISTS Academic, the three thus cementing an enduring friendship. While most of Fragonard's studies after the older painters show accuracy and vitality, none can compare in interest to his 1 L'Allee ombreuse,' with its great vault of foliage meeting over- head, or his ' Vue prise a la Villa d'Este.' Here was the real Fragonard, sensitive, submissive, and displaying a sympathy with Roman life and scene which must be partially accounted for by his Italian ancestry and that unmistakable affinity which exists between the Campagna and the country about Grasse. From the very first he appears to have seen nature and natural forms not boldly and sharply, but enveloped in a caressing ambience — blue, blond, or golden. Seated before his easel in one of those majestic oak or cypress lined avenues, with here a vine-covered wall, and there a flower-grown foun- tain, the receptive, observant youth did not fail to note that vibrant play of diffused light and shade which is one of art's most precious discoveries. He never knew that what he was striving for would one day be called impressionism. He only saw and suggested certain effects as best he could, yet it was a full century before his efforts were to be surpassed. On his return to Paris full of high enthusiasm, Fragonard, after a period of indecision, made a commanding debut at the Salon of 1765 with ' Coresus se sacrifie pour sauver Callirhoe.' The amateurs applauded, Diderot praised him, and the king ordered the picture to be reproduced in Gobelins tapestry. His triumph was largely theatric, for his theme had been taken from the poem by Roy with music by Destouches. While it was not Gluck, it pleased the fancy of the public, and a dignified academic career seemed to await the young Provencal. Yet he somehow never duplicated the dramatic fervour of this com- position, the passionate reds of these flowing robes or the be- seeching whites of these breasts and arms. Although purchased for the State, it was several years before Marigny paid him for [8] JEAN-HONORE FRAGONARD the work, and meanwhile the one-time pupil of Boucher was fated to conquer Cythera, not Olympus. Through the kind offices of Doyen, who was himself too prudish to accept the com- mission, Fragonard was enabled to paint for the baron de Saint- Julien ' Les Hasards heureux de PEscarpolette,' his first indis- putable masterpiece of grace and frivolity. There was no further hesitation. He had found his chosen vocation. The baron was enchanted, and the picture was engraved by de Launay, quickly becoming the success of the hour. Before he knew it Frago's fortune was made. Wealthy fermiers generaux such as Beaujon, Bergeret de Grancourt, Rostin d'lvry, and Randon de Boisset showered him with orders. Ev^y one, in- cluding king and court favourite, wished something from the not over scrupulous brush which knew so well how to flatter the taste and stimulate the appetites of a society whose character- istic frailty was what Voltaire termed love weakness. Within a few busy years the young painter who had so anxiously awaited payment for his Academie picture was enjoying an annual in- come of forty thousand pounds. Meanwhile it mattered little that Diderot should massacre the charmingly aerial ceiling he had sketched for Bergeret, or that Bachaumont should savagely accuse him of desiring to shine only " dans les boudoirs et les garde-robes.' ' After the Salon of 1767 he ceased to exhibit, and grand, imposing com- positions were renounced for countless exquisite revelations of nudity, often venturesome, always inviting. Though henceforth he painted mainly to please himself and his opulent patrons the marvel of it is that the quality of his work seldom suffered. In- credibly prolific, he displayed an ease and fertility almost with- out parallel. His art became a perfect mirror of contemporary caprice both sensuous and sentimental. Just as the baron de Saint- Julien had inspired l Les Hasards heureux de PEscarpo- lette,' so the marquis de Veri gave him the suggestion for i Le [9] MODERN ARTISTS Verrou.' To Varancliaia de Saint-Genies went i Les Baigneuses/ and to the rich notary, Duclos - Dufresnoy, ' La Fontaine d 'Amour.' In rapid succession came * Le Serment d' Amour/ ' Le Sacrifice de la Rose/ ' Le Debut du Modele,' and innumer- able ' Billet-doux ' and i Baisers ' all executed in a spirit of vivacious frankness and responsive sensibility. He proved him- self amazingly varied, this eager little amoroso of the brush. The subdued dignity of Le Contrat J was offset by the less cir- cumspect insinuation of ' La Gimblette ' or ' La Chemise en- levee.' Moreover, he kept his impressions fresh by constant contact with the world about him. He was no frigid onlooker. Always animated, always gay, witty and insatiate, he frequented at will the coulisses of the Opera, the chauffoir of the Comedie, or took supper " chez les soeurs Verrieres." A natural, in- stinctive being, he was disturbed neither by the maxims of the Encyclopaedists nor the lachrymose penitence of his moralizing friend Greuze. In an age of exteriorization, when the surface of things must perforce be in fastidious accord with the complexion of the moment, it was inevitable that the decorative arts should enjoy high esteem. Already well known through his work for Berge- ret, and for the royal chateau de Bellevue, it was natural that Fragonard should have been among those chosen by Drouais to adorn the new pavilion being erected for Mme. du Barry at Louveciennes, overlooking the Seine near Marly. Nothing was spared in making the structure a miracle of refined allurement. Ledoux was the architect, Lecomte, Pajou, Vasse, and Allegrain contributed the sculpture, and Vernet, Halle, Van Loo, and others the paintings. There were timepieces by Lepaute, carv- ings by Gouthiere, and tapestries by Cozette, while from the gilded wainscoting glanced demurely Greuze 's i Cruche cassee.' It was in his series of four panels painted for this cabinet of beauty and licence that Fragonard achieved the cardinal tri- [10] LE RENDEZ-VOUS By Jean-Honore Fragonard [Courtesy of J. Pierpont Morgan, Esq.] JEAN-HONORE FRAGONARD umph of his career. Conceived by the favourite herself, this 1 Roman d 'Amour de la Jeunesse ' epitomizes in chaste and ap- pealing accents that same Romance of Love and Youth with which Fragonard was so familiar. And yet the work, fitting as it seems, was never placed upon the walls for which it was in- tended. The reason was not because Mme. du Barry lacked funds, nor because Vien's lubricous classicism was deemed more appropriate, but possibly because the artist had been a shade too explicit in the matter of portraiture. It was one thing to picture the golden-haired, fresh-tinted creature from Cham- pagne as a fancy shepherdess, but Louis le Bien-Aime could hardly have relished being depicted as her companion. The royal sybarite doubtless refused to sanction even this faint record of his profligacy, so Fragonard 's idyl, which traced in such captivating terms the love of king and courtesan, was sup- planted by decorations in no way comparable to his dream of youthful fondness and frailty. It is even doubtful whether the painter received proper indemnity, though in any case he must have somewhat sadly rolled up the canvases and placed them in the corner of his studio where they remained neglected in the flush of a life crowned by success and filled with eager pleasure. The same mad craze for luxurious appointments permeated all classes of society, all save the sullen, brooding peasantry who loomed more and more ominously in the background, and whom La Bruyere alone had seen in their true light. As du Barry was employing Ledoux and Fragonard in the adornment of her pavilion, so had la Guimard secured their services in beautify- ing her famous " Temple de Terpsichore " in the rue de la Chaussee d'Antin. The two projects were carried forward al- most simultaneously, and, oddly enough, ended in a somewhat similar manner. Annoyed, it is inferred, by his procrastina- tion, " la belle damnee," as Marmontel none too deferentially christened her, quarrelled with the painter who promptly and [ii] MODERN ARTISTS generously left the work to be finished by none other than Jacques-Louis David, then on the threshold of his stormy and triumphant career. Weary of endless fetes and numerous princesses of the opera or the theatre, Fragonard had meanwhile married, on 17 June 1769, at the age of thirty-seven, a simple, wholesome lass of eighteen from his native town. The wedding itself was not without its air of refreshing simplicity, having been celebrated at the church of Saint-Lambert among the green fields and winding lanes of Vaugirard, then a suburb of the capital. Pos- sessing less style and decidedly more common sense than the Parisiennes about her, Marie- Anne Gerard, later known as " la caissiere, ' ? made a prudent, though scarcely inspiring wife. The family, which was soon augmented by the arrival from Grasse of Marguerite Gerard, a younger and far prettier sister-in-law, and also by her brother, Henri Gerard, all lived comfortably together in the Galleries of the Louvre which, since the time of Henri IV, had been divided into apartments for those " excel- lentz maitres," the artists. To Fragonard's quarters on the ground floor often came Hubert Robert and Saint-Non, Hall, the miniaturist, who brought his flute and his beautiful daugh- ters Adele and Lucie, Greuze, bilious and irascible, the Vernets, and de Launay, all delighting in " l'aimable Frago's " hospital- ity and the picturesque diversity of a studio containing Boulle furniture, Beauvais tapestries, a tiny fountain, a rustic swing with toylike trees dotted about, and a memorable Benvenuto vase. Save for a leisurely journey to Italy as the guest of Bergeret, rich Receveur-general, whose tastes were quite as gas- tronomic as they were artistic, Fragonard remained faithful to his lodgings in the Louvre and his country retreat at Petit- Bourg, near Oorbeil. With the advent of his daughter Rosalie, and his son, Alexandre-Evariste, familiarly known as " Fan- fan," his devotion to domestic life assumed new depth and [12] JEAN-HONORE FRAGONARD stability. Memories of prentice days with wise, sane Chardin seemed to drift back to him. He became almost a little Flemish master, painting with -unsuspected penetration and insight such episodes as ' La Jeune Mere/ ' La Visite a la Nourrice,' ' L'Heu- reuse fecondite,' and ' Les Beignets.' It was an existence quite calm and equable. Despite a very human laxity in other directions, in questions of art he was concise, specific, and logical. While his feeling for [13] MODERN ARTISTS form and rhythm was clearly classic, his work was imbued with a nervous grace and daintiness wholly new. His divinities still inhabited Olympus, but it was Olympus feminized. As the years slipped by and good Marie- Anne grew scarcely less prudent and phlegmatic, it was inevitable that her place in the household should have been in various ways filled by Mar- guerite Gerard, among whose attractions were a sprightly wit, a head of brown wavy hair, a pair of bright eyes, a small, slightly upturned nose, and cherry lips. More adaptable than her elder sister, who still wore her crisp white cap and spoke in the none too limpid accent of the South, Marguerite readily made her presence felt. Under the painter's inspiration she developed a slender, imitative talent, and often her " bon ami Frago " would bend over the easel adding deft touches here and there and ab- sorbing the fragrance of a young being who soon came to embody for him " la poesie " and presumably more. Decorative paint- ing was by no means neglected along with the multitude of tasks including illustrations for Don Quixote and La Fontaine, which date from this period. On several occasions the entire family was installed at Cassan where Fragonard was engaged in embel- lishing Bergeret's new villa. The summers at Cassan, and at Folie-Beaujon, found their record in quantities of sketches and larger compositions dashed off with astonishing virtuosity, many of them fugitive, impromptu glimpses of perhaps the happiest hours of the painter's life. Though the only cloud thus far had been the death of his daughter Rosalie at the age of eighteen, it was not long before the sky began to darken fatefully. The States-General had met in May 1789, and already catch phrases of freedom and progress were penetrating the studios. Although largely supported by the crown, the artists of the Louvre were republican in birth and sympathies and were easily swept along by the rising hurricane of liberal enthusiasm. In September of the same year the names of Mme. Fragonard and Marguerite [14] LA LETTRE D'AMOUR % Jean-Honore Fragonard [Courtesy of J. Pierpont Morgan, Esq.] JEAN-HONORE FRAGONARD Gerard as well as those of Mmes. Moitte, David, Suvee, and Vien figured among the list of citoyennes who offered to the As- sembly their tribute of rings, bracelets, and jewels of every description for the national defence. Within a few feverish months all were plunged into the greatest social convulsion the world has ever witnessed. The change was cruelly sudden. Fragonard, lacking the aggressive temperament of David and his circle, was completely bewildered. There seemed noth- ing he could do. His wealthy protectors were seeking safer quarters, and surly, red-capped mobs, maddened by the lust of blood, thronged the streets and squares. Arrests were being made on every side. Hubert Robert was flung into Saint-Lazare and Hall was forced to flee the country, while from his windows the anxious little painter daily saw groups of sansculottes drag the " mauvais riches " off to prison or the guillotine. Shaken in spirit and filled with dismay by the scenes of horror which constantly met his eye, it was not strange that " le petit papa Fragonard/ ' as they had come to call him, should often have thought of bright, serene Grasse. Taking with him his long neglected panels he one day slipped away to the South, finding, with his cousins the Mauberts, a grateful welcome. Here at Grasse he passed considerable time, and it was here, in the se- cluded, cypress-screened house of his kind host that the * Roman d' Amour de la Jeunesse 9 found at last its true setting, a setting more enduring than it would ever have known at Louveciennes. In the large salon on the lower floor, with its windows look- ing out upon the garden where pomegranates, orange trees, pur- ple hollyhocks, and great masses of geraniums shimmered in the sunlight, Fragonard completed, harmonized, and fused into single effective unit his immortal love pastoral. In size and general arrangement the room was admirably suited to receive [15] MODEEN AETISTS tlie four subjects already finished, and to these lie added a fifth, painted four dessus de porte, a panel above the mantelpiece, and four connecting shafts. Although opinions vary, the logical order of the series is obviously: — * La Poursuite,' i Le Rendez- vous, ' ' La Lettre d' Amour/ ' L'Amant eouronne,' and ' L' Aban- don/ Nothing in the art of Fragonard or the art of his con- temporaries quite approaches the persuasive charm of this Romance of Love and Youth. Not only is the narrative carried along with just the proper note of precision in the larger panels, it is also suggested with playful symbolism in the minor com- positions. It is Paradise and Earth, a blissful Paradise with a chubby deity chasing doves about in midair, and a smiling Earth, profusely flowered and peopled by a young couple whose every movement is cadenced by the pulse of love. The gallant who offers the emblematic rose, who climbs the terrace where the chosen one awaits him, who is by turns ardent and trium- phant, is beyond question Louis XV minus nearly half a century of self-indulgence. His Bourbon profile grows less exact after the first and second panels, but in them it is unmistakable. The slender blonde who accepts his suit with such studied artless- ness, such inviting reserve, is of course Mme. du Barry whose white throat was soon to be severed by the guillotine. In the fourth scene, ' L'Amant eouronne,' it is permissible to infer that the youthful artist who has been called upon to immortalize their happiness is none other than Fragonard himself whose dark curls and clear cut features are also visible in ' L'Armoire ' and other canvases. It was an age of touching sensibility as well as avid pleasure, and in the last panel Fragonard shows his dainty shepherdess musing ruefully alone at the foot of a marble column which is surmounted by a mocking and admonishing cupid. It is poetized longing. It is passion made lyrical. For over a century Fragonard's Romance of Love and Youth remained quite as he had left it in this silent room with its Beauvais tapestries, gilt consoles, couches, and tabourets — this room so filled with the fragrance of past, faded elegance. It was not, hi fact, until 8 February 1898, that the paintings left the possession of M. Malvilan, a grandson of the artist's cousin, M. Maubert, on which date they were sold at Cannes, bringing 1,250,000 francs. During the autumn of the same year they were exhibited in London, and were subsequently purchased by Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan. Yet not all of Fragonard's sojourn at Grasse was spent in dreaming anew with mingled joy and pathos dreams of former, happier days. Faithful as he was to his own treasured kingdom of grace and beauty, he did not wholly escape the troubled issues of the hour. Echoes of the storm penetrated the farthest corners of la Provence, and, more- over, the sanguinary Maximin Isnard was his neighbour. If tradition may be accepted it was the little exile himself who, in an outburst of patriotism, painted the heads of Robespierre and abbe Gregoire together with the emblems of law and liberty such as the Phrygian bonnet, axes, and fasces which ornament the stairway of his host's house. In any event it is consoling to know that though things were going so badly with his friends in [17] MODERN ARTISTS Paris, the artist's visit did not prove altogether fruitless, as is shown by a receipt recently discovered in the Maison Malvilan which reads: — " J 'ay regu de mon cher cousin Maubert, pour ouvrages de peinture, la somme de trois mille six cent livres, dont quittance jusqu'a ce jour, pour solde de tout compte, a Grasse, ce dix mars 1791. Fragonard, peintre du Roy." Returning to the capital on the morrow of the September Massacres, Fragonard found the situation even worse than when he had left. The passion for blood had not been slaked and the Paris which greeted him was not the Paris he had once known. The streets still swarmed with drunken soldiers, beggars, thieves, and wild-eyed hags. Saint-Non was dead and there were few who recognized the tiny fellow with short white locks, flowing grey mantle, and loosely knotted scarf who dodged about in search of some friend who might drop him a word of welcome. The very soul of things had altered. Financiers and nymphs of the Opera were scattered. The Loves and Graces had departed, and Beauty had been stamped under foot. Idle gallants no longer danced minuets or tinkled lutes under the protect- ing trees. Instead, hot headed fellows mounted rostra and harangued the populace in the name of liberty and equality. The insinuating songs of de La Borde were drowned by the majestic roar of the Marseillaise and art was called upon not to please or flatter but to flame and to inspire. The blatant Graeco-Romanism of David was in the ascendant, " Fanfan " was rapidly becoming Alexandre-Evariste Fragonard, equally distinguished and equally monotonous as painter or sculptor, and Marguerite Gerard was exhibiting at the Societe des Arts vapid, feeble reminiscences which could hardly have brought her master either pride or joy. All seemed strange and hope- less. Cherubino was forgotten. He belonged to another and a brighter world. Moreover, the brushes had lost their magic. There remained on the palette no glittering dust from invisible [18] L'AMANT COURONNE % Jean-Honore Fragonard [Courtesy of J. Pierpont Morgan, Esq.] JEAN-HONOBE FRAGONARD butterfly wings. There is no telling what might have befallen the distraught and unhappy painter had it not been for the all- powerful David, who, though relentless to so many others, never forgot the kindness Fragonard had shown him years before. On David's recommendation he was made a member of the Jury des Arts and later President du Conservatoire du Museum. He even figured with Lesueur in the place of honour at the planting of a Tree of Liberty in the Court of the Louvre, and by an ironical turn of fortune was detailed to make inventories of some of the same luxurious private hotels he had once helped to deco- rate. The temper as well as the taste of those about him was visibly turning against all that Fragonard and his art repre- sented. He courageously tried in two or three empty, ambitious canvases to adjust himself to the manner of David, but his heart was not in the work. So little were his own family in sympathy with the traditions he still cherished that one day Alexandre- Evariste consigned to the flames a number of sketches and prints by his father, exclaiming, with pride, " Je fais un holocauste au bon gout ! " The hand which had once painted in a single hour the fluent, virile portrait of M. de La Breteche shortly became weak and faltering, and the income, formerly so ample, dwindled to almost nothing. At one period Mme. Fragonard was even forced to beg at the butcher and bake shops of the quarter. Be- fore long Vivant-Denon not only removed him from his post with the Museum but soon suppressed his pension as well. They were bitter months for one who had hitherto tasted naught save success and happiness. In distress he turned to Marguerite Gerard who replied with daintily phrased platitudes counselling him to practise forethought and economy. He had showered upon her an infinity of affection and inspiration. All she had for him in his hour of darkness was egotism and discreet advice. On his return from the South Fragonard had again taken up residence in the Louvre where he had lived since the day the [19] MODERN ARTISTS young pensioner of the king had proudly become painter to the king. As though his trials and disappointments were not al- ready enough, he was compelled to submit to another, and still greater humiliation, for one night Napoleon, riding by with Duroc and seeing a few modest lights gleaming from the win- dows of the Galleries, ordered the " immediate evacuation " of the place, fearing that a chance fire might imperil paintings and statuary sacked from every corner of Europe. Not wishing to be away from his beloved Louvre, Pragonard moved across to the rue de Grenelle-Saint-Honore, lodging with a restaurant keeper named Veri, in the Palais-du-Tribunat, now the Palais- Royal. Peeling himself isolated he virtually gave up work, and being active despite his years, spent the time pattering about the streets and gardens ruefully noting changes which were fast destroying the ancient aspect of the town. On certain of these wanderings he doubtless happened upon stray engravings by de Launay or Beauvarlet of canvases which he must have recalled with confused, pathetic rapture ; though on the whole, there was little to remind him of a vanished and discredited Arcady. One afternoon on returning from the Champ-de-Mars tired and feverish he entered Veri's and called for an ice. It brought on cerebral congestion, and by five on the morning of 22 August 1806, he was dead. His entire life save those few troubled years toward the last had been itself a ' Roman d' Amour de la Jeunesse,' expressed in continuous variants on the blues, whites, and reds of his own luminous Grasse. Though he touched with flexible ease many themes, love was his favourite theme — love which he pressed into the petals of a rose, a rose worn now at the breast, now offered in mystic, virgin sacrifice, now lying crushed upon the floor. For a decade or more before the end came the art which he practised with such infectious enthusiasm had been a thing of the past, yet he lingered on a solitary, pathetic reminder of those [20] JEAN-HONORE FRAGONARD pleasure loving days when his fame had seemed so secure. The reign of aristocracy was indeed over. Republican aggression and imperial authority were the successive watchwords of David, who at intervals laid aside his Roman toga to picture with trenchant power the leaders of this vast movement for the eman- cipation of the human spirit. It was inevitable that the Journal de Paris and the Moniteur de PEmpire should scarcely mention the passing of Fragonard, and that the lightness, truth, and impromptu freedom of his art should find scant favour at the dawn of so stressful and grandiose an era. In his own elusive, unpretentious way he represented the principal movements, artistic, social, and intellectual of his age. A modernized Athenian, he learned from Boucher and Tiepolo the secrets of decorative composition. Through Chardin, Watteau, and espe- cially Rubens, he enriched France with the fruitful Flemish tradition, while there are in several of his more serious and aspiring canvases hints of that classic revival which followed the discoveries at Pompeii and Herculaneum. Typifying in many respects the frivolous hedonism of Crebillon, Laclos, and Mme. d'Epinay, he nevertheless echoed at moments the scepticism of Voltaire and the return to nature so explicitly preached by Rousseau. Yet above all else he was a poet, not a mere versifier, a painter pure and simple, not a philosopher or a rhetorician. Whatever his task, he always managed to illumine and adorn it. He gave to eroticism new mystery; he etherealized feeling just as he volatilized colour. Personally as well as artistically he is directly allied to the chief modern school, that of the Impres- sionists, his great-granddaughter having been the beautiful and gifted Mme. Berthe Morizot, wife of Eugene Manet. If he has to-day regained his rightful position, if his memory has been appropriately honoured at Grasse, Besangon, Nice, and Paris, it is because in him is recognized not only the fitting epitome of his time but a painter who must always remain youthful and [21] MODERN ARTISTS rich in inspiration. His colouring still retains its freshness and its bloom. Not a single one of his roses has faded, nor can ever fade. And neither the ceaseless tramp of armies nor a century of neglect has been able to obliterate this expressive, spontane- ous art — this art which is both epilogue and prologue, which in tender, gracious accents bids adieu to the old regime and salutes the coming of the new. [22] ANTOINE WIERTZ ANTOINE WIERTZ Portrait of the artist painted by himself \Wiertz Museum, Brussels] ANTOINE WIERTZ IT was not until years after the passing of the pale captain who had come up from Corsica and had changed for awhile the map of Europe, and so profoundly the destiny of man, that art resumed her true course of development. Eigid and invincible, the resurrected heroes of Greece and Rome continued to stalk before the eyes of an enthralled populace. Not satisfied with having formalized the art of his own country, David, like some conqueror of old, crossed over into Belgium and encased Flemish painting in the casques, breastplates, and stiff draperies of bygone ages. The period was one of slavish subserviency or stormy, ineffectual revolt. Oscillating between the dominant influence of a single powerful tradition and the gradual awak- ening of social consciousness, the painters of these arid days reflected little save restlessness and uncertainty. All were in a more or less degree victims of the impending transition from precedent to personal liberty, from established authority to the sovereign rights of the individual. The most acute embodiment of this ferment of the human spirit, this fever-dream which fol- lowed the blood letting of the Napoleonic era was Antoine Wiertz. It is less as an artist that this singular figure chal- lenges attention than as the man who best typifies that night- mare which preceded the dawn of rationalism and democracy. 