tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58135589997022070482024-03-13T11:59:19.812-04:00Post-by Ciana Pullen
art, photography and works in processCiana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.comBlogger359125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-69183518087838545932023-05-02T05:41:00.003-04:002023-05-02T05:47:32.692-04:00Wangechi Mutu<p> One of my longtime favorite artists! This was a nice thing for me to wake up to, so I'm sharing it here: </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="523" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/TaL8zDealmU" width="707" youtube-src-id="TaL8zDealmU"></iframe></div><br /> <p></p><p><br /></p>Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-42594347828329999982022-09-19T09:24:00.007-04:002022-09-19T09:24:54.440-04:00Update<p> Hi readers, just to let you know I am still working on the blogs for the women artists featured in my Inktober series. I got a bit bogged down researching Algerian politics and modern art for the Baya Mehieddine post, but it's coming eventually. I'm also working on some illustrations of witches from pop culture for Halloween month (any suggestions are welcome). <br /></p><p>Meanwhile this is my first day following a more regular studio schedule that I designed because I really cannot function without a routine. This morning was "go leave the house and sketch," and as soon as I walked outside a sudden thunderstorm unleashed a dark torrent of rain. I stood under an awning with some others caught in the downpour and drew this advertising kiosk. My pen drawing style really has changed since doing a few Inktobers the traditional way (with ink on paper only), especially after seeing the drawings and etchings of Anders Zorn. I still have to physically stop myself from crosshatching and outlining the edges of shapes because it feels so natural, but I hate the way it looks. I think the pattern and directionality have a lot more bang for the buck in terms of atmosphere, and my sketching is gradually becoming a little less clunky and muscular. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUZs4t0RuDHSyzHP4UlcvjJ0HWEKIkApk5sgef41gIVvu1xBSsNY_sPWMNvKXBtY3HhfiVAMG8_8HB8NSRIA_izyw9bYJLokyF3nkLzjAEJ6t2kBZCGda1zOow7gblq__mXMUj6SkpihpVu09rwXH18U-vI_ThwY4fhBTVsw89dSf_Mm588YPIod5a/s3888/2022-9-29MiddayThunderstormSketch3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="2795" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUZs4t0RuDHSyzHP4UlcvjJ0HWEKIkApk5sgef41gIVvu1xBSsNY_sPWMNvKXBtY3HhfiVAMG8_8HB8NSRIA_izyw9bYJLokyF3nkLzjAEJ6t2kBZCGda1zOow7gblq__mXMUj6SkpihpVu09rwXH18U-vI_ThwY4fhBTVsw89dSf_Mm588YPIod5a/w460-h640/2022-9-29MiddayThunderstormSketch3.jpg" width="460" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morning thunderstorm, Berlin. Sketch by Ciana Pullen<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-68376908321957752792022-01-29T16:30:00.007-05:002022-01-29T16:35:52.111-05:00Kramer<p> "A loathsome brute... I cannot look away." </p><p>This was a fun drawing and a chance to learn Procreate on my iPad. It's <a href="https://versum.xyz/token/versum/6932">for sale</a> as an NFT on Versum.xyz, which is an eco-friendly NFT art trading site. The idea of trading NFTs seemed a little abstract to me at first, but I like that artists can collect royalties on subsequent resales of their art. That is solid. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj-RFEP8YFI1eqWexzn5lOY3AFEGaVGl1sjiv8Q_mhr4g2lvKk05MDaCcTcSb9rCM8GZ6ExCj7-T65YXlwuM5_HR_vHUD0LassTDxKT8IsuUgf-575eK_ZOmI73JFtWsZ5ZSLz9sTS8rc7a4ZlZIhgAEECQmAEG8ys3qPB2LBXkLyyrWk75Lbnz6AQQ=s1640" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Kramer drawing" border="0" data-original-height="1640" data-original-width="1235" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj-RFEP8YFI1eqWexzn5lOY3AFEGaVGl1sjiv8Q_mhr4g2lvKk05MDaCcTcSb9rCM8GZ6ExCj7-T65YXlwuM5_HR_vHUD0LassTDxKT8IsuUgf-575eK_ZOmI73JFtWsZ5ZSLz9sTS8rc7a4ZlZIhgAEECQmAEG8ys3qPB2LBXkLyyrWk75Lbnz6AQQ=w482-h640" title="Kramer drawing" width="482" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Kramer</i>, digital drawing by Ciana Pullen 2022. For sale <a href="https://versum.xyz/token/versum/6932">here</a>. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-19221229741140846472020-12-12T20:02:00.000-05:002020-12-12T20:02:53.163-05:00Inktober Day 8: Rosa Bonheur<div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhve-H9vamlCaxKeLlvT1kXiNsC1h7v4ngSEZdPyHzS97EoAceo8f0tVTZtd-DJG_IIcOW45nTgWPjLxLx9O5PMEl9nE5UcP3ELC_qIDublcQuFx2sj3W6NjXYYdmDEqyOV72T8LkVUews/s1600/1600px-Rosa_Bonheur_-_Highland_Raid_%25281860%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="933" data-original-width="1600" height="374" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhve-H9vamlCaxKeLlvT1kXiNsC1h7v4ngSEZdPyHzS97EoAceo8f0tVTZtd-DJG_IIcOW45nTgWPjLxLx9O5PMEl9nE5UcP3ELC_qIDublcQuFx2sj3W6NjXYYdmDEqyOV72T8LkVUews/w640-h374/1600px-Rosa_Bonheur_-_Highland_Raid_%25281860%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>Highland Raid</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, 1860. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rosa_Bonheur_-_Highland_Raid_(1860).jpg">via</a>). </span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>So famous was Rosa Bonheur in her lifetime that only half her legacy is her art; the other half is the legend of her remarkable yet quiet personal life. Foreign royalty greeted her her with parades, little girls the world over could buy Rosa Bonheur dolls, and schoolhouses on both sides of the Atlantic taught her life story in textbooks. I'll begin this post with an excerpt from one such children's book:<br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><i> </i></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><i>“In a simple home in Paris could have been seen, in 1829, Raymond Bonheur and his little family : Rosa, seven years old, August, Isadore, and Juliette. He was a man of fine talent in painting, but obliged to spend his time in giving drawing lessons to support his children. His wife, Sophie, gave lessons on the piano, going from house to house all day long, and sometimes sewing half the night, to earn a little more for the necessities of life. </i></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><i><span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Hard work and poverty soon bore its usual fruit, and the tired young mother died in 1833. The three oldest children were sent to board with a plain woman, “La mère Cathérine,” in the Champs Elysées, and the youngest was placed with relatives. For two years this good woman cared for the children, sending them to school, though she was greatly troubled because Rosa persisted in playing in the woods of the Bois de Bologne, gathering her arms full of daisies and marigolds, rather than to be shut up in a schoolroom. “I never spent an hour of fine weather indoors during the whole of the two years,” she has often said since those days.”</span></i><span> --</span><span>from <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File%3ALives_of_girls_who_became_famous_(IA_livesofgirlswhob00bolt).pdf&page=216">Lives of Girls Who Became Famous</a> by Sarah Knowles Bolton, 1886 (available for free online beginning p. 216. It's a surprisingly fun read.) </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>The Bonheurs had fallen from middle class and had become so poor they buried Rosa's mother in a pauper's grave. Raymond had abandoned the family the previous year to join a spiritual commune called the St. Simeons (he would soon return once the group disbanded). Rosa admired her father, but after seeing her mother work herself to death while her father devoted himself to his ideals, eleven-year-old Rosa vowed never to marry or have children. About her father, she later wrote, </span><i><span><span>“He had grand ideas and had he not been obliged to give
lessons for our support, he would have been more known, and today
acknowledged with other masters.” </span></span></i><span><span>About her mother she wrote<i>, "Everything good and beautiful I've done during my 76 years on this earth has been her inspiration." </i></span></span><i><span><span> </span></span></i></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>When Rosa was expelled from the boarding school where her father taught, she was apprenticed to a seamstress so she could support herself. She hated it so much she began physically wasting away and her father was forced to take her back. At this point he didn't know what to do so he took a hands-off approach to allow her to explore which path in life naturally appealed to her. He watched as she spent hour upon hour drawing and assisting him in his studio, so content that her health returned. She was so talented that he took a leap of faith, resigned from the boarding school and began teaching her seriously. She thrived.</span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>M. Bonheur remarried and was able to reunite all the kids at home; he and Rosa's stepmother then had three more children. It turned out that all of the Bonheur children were incredibly talented and happy to dedicate themselves to learning, with Rosa, the oldest, helping to train them. With the beloved second Mrs. Bonheur managing the household like a pro, the family was just as poor but much more happy. </span><span>They became involved in a spiritual movement called Saint-Simonianism that encouraged proto-socialist communal living, gender equality and Christian brotherly love in the face of the industrial age alienation. They also believed society would progress through science and industry, not theocracy. <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Money and reputation came slowly. The Bonheurs were a family phenomenon and would remain so their whole lives (though Rosa would become the Michael Jackson of the group). They were all animal and landscape painters under the same teacher, so their work was naturally compared with their that of their siblings. With each individual success the rising tide lifted all ships. Isadore would grow up to become an animal sculptor while Juliette became an animal painter and painting teacher. She would go on to marry the owner of a foundry who became part of the family team. Auguste became a succcessful animal and landscape painter like Rosa, though never quite as famous; their styles were extremely similar but his talent for depicting dazzling naturalistic sunlight was a cut above Rosa's, in my opinion, and seemed to predict the work of the Impressionists. Rosa was more of a "moody weather" virtuosa, as evidenced in the piece above, <i>Highland Raid</i>. <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOxIXTrtrN9LRmadJCMH17LWmWeHaUH2GtyzuEAbE7Vkg-km7ZPWOiegPtLGxJnO4drOAiJDI25fgjmXo4WYAQXbKTLTtNuALSjuXy5WxLwKEWGNQSR6tM1uf8CFI5_MG_-SIfrNk6l20/s1311/Rosa_Bonheur_-_Sketch_of_Five_Bulls_with_Color_Notes_-_Walters_372365.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1311" height="376" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOxIXTrtrN9LRmadJCMH17LWmWeHaUH2GtyzuEAbE7Vkg-km7ZPWOiegPtLGxJnO4drOAiJDI25fgjmXo4WYAQXbKTLTtNuALSjuXy5WxLwKEWGNQSR6tM1uf8CFI5_MG_-SIfrNk6l20/w640-h376/Rosa_Bonheur_-_Sketch_of_Five_Bulls_with_Color_Notes_-_Walters_372365.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>Sketch of Five Bulls with Color Notes,</i> by Rosa Bonheur, undated. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rosa_Bonheur_-_Sketch_of_Five_Bulls_with_Color_Notes_-_Walters_372365.jpg">via</a>). </span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>The Bonheur kids needed models to work from, so they all saved up to buy a shared family sheep. By then they'd moved to a sixth floor tenement apartment in Paris, so they had to keep it on the roof. They made a little rooftop garden for it, and every single day they hoisted it over their shoulders, carried it down six flights of stairs, walked it to a local field to graze, then schlepped it back up to the roof. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Rosa went in search of every animal model she could find, but in the city it wasn't easy. She had to travel alone to farms and forests outside the city, which she did on foot, usually returning home wet, muddy and exhausted. The slaughterhouse was closer so she frequently sketched the animals in their holding pens, though she felt terrible for the them. She found work horses to sketch in the stalls of Paris's municipal carriage company. A nearby veterinary institute also allowed her to carry out dissections; her notes and diagrams were so detailed that even as an old woman she would continue to refer back to them. <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>This was all completely inappropriate (and dangerous) for a young woman, especially unchaperoned. Bonheur cropped her hair short and began wearing men's clothing and, to paraphrase to a children's book from 1886, </span><span><span><span class="reference-text"><i>"she remained completely unbothered by the men working, because the world can always tell when a girl means business and treats her accordingly."</i> (That's not remotely true in general but it's a nice sentiment)<i>. </i></span></span></span><span><span><span class="reference-text"><span><span class="reference-text">Though
woke modern blogs simply state that Bonheur wore pants because she was
a lesbian and rebellious, elsewhere I've encountered some increasingly elaborate explanations for
her wearing pants-- that she disguised herself as a boy so she could
work unmolested, that she needed them for hiking, that she was short on
time and money, that it was to prove women artists were as good as men. I'm guessing it was really a both/and situation. It's also possible the St. Simeonist clothing and gender equality recommendations influenced Rosa, as her father also wore the sect's sturdy boots and practical garb. Up to half of most bios on Bonheur seem to be about her pants, and she would not have approved. <i>"The suit I wear is my work attire, and nothing else. The epithets of imbeciles have never bothered me..."</i> Ouch, Rosa. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span class="reference-text"><span><span class="reference-text"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span class="reference-text"><span><span class="reference-text">Speaking of ambiguous lesbianism, Rosa (then 14) met fellow artist Nathalie Micas (12) when Rosa's father was commissioned to paint Nathalie, who was the daughter of some close family friends. </span></span></span></span></span><span><span><span class="reference-text"><span><span class="reference-text"><span><span><span class="reference-text"><span><span class="reference-text">I
also read an alternate account of their meeting: after Rosa's mother died Mrs. Micas, who had been a close friend of Sophie Bonheur, took
Rosa into her home and paid off Raymond's debts. </span></span></span></span></span>Over the years Nathalie and Rosa formed such a bond that Nathalie's family begged M. Bonheur to let the girls live together. Rosa did eventually move in with Nathalie and her mother. The couple remained devoted to each other for the next 40 years, until Nathalie's death. <br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span class="reference-text"><span><span class="reference-text"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span class="reference-text"><span><span class="reference-text">Historians aren't completely sure about the nature of their relationship, though. Evidence is very heavily in the favor of Rosa and Nathalie being lesbians, but then again Rosa herself, when pressed about rumors, said she wasn't. She joked about having no affinity for men except the bulls she painted, but in more serious reflections she spoke of herself as having remained "pure," as never having married because no man fell in love with her. Victorian women often formed unromantic companionships to help each other through life, so many of Rosa's contemporaries readily took her at her word despite rumors. Yet Rosa and Nathalie could easily be characterized as bravely living a completely open lesbian life, and writers often have</span></span></span></span></span><span><span><span class="reference-text"><span><span class="reference-text"><span><span><span class="reference-text"><span><span class="reference-text"> done so. If social conditions had been more familiar and accepting, w</span></span></span></span></span>ho knows what she'd have said, or even how she'd have identified in her own mind? In her adulthood Rosa did write, </span></span></span></span></span><span><span><span class="reference-text"><span><span class="reference-text"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>“Had I been a man, I would have married her, and nobody
could have dreamed up all those silly stories. I would have had a
family, with my children as heirs, and nobody would have any right to
complain.”</i>
</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>As Rosa's training progressed her father sent her to the Louvre to copy the great paintings (a normal part of art education back then-- Rosa also sold the copies to help support her family), with an industriousness that caught the notice of many. Bonheur's favorites at the Louvre were Poussin and Rubens; she also loved Dutch animal painter Paulus Potter, who the Académie in all earnesntess had dubbed "the Raphael of cows." Even so, animal painting was near the bottom of the formal hierarchy of art genres. An "<i>animalier</i>," as Rosa had chosen to be, could make a living but never garner respect as a <i>great</i> artist. But confident enough in her skills to invest in herself, Rosa also studied with artist </span><span><span><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 412.9px; top: 1016.05px; transform: scaleX(1.04494);">Léon Cogniet, an excellent teacher by all accounts.<br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>She began painting seriously at 19 and showing painting and sculpture at the yearly Salons. Beginning with an unremarkable little picture of two bunnies nibbling carrots, each year's showing was dramatically better than her last. One of her more successful early showings was a bronze sculpture, <i>Shorn Ewe</i>. Her father had urged her to sign her first works with his name, considering it a favor because his name recognition would help them sell much better, but Rosa refused. She considered using her own name to be befitting her mother's memory (and Rosa rarely capitulated to anything she truly didn't want to do). </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>The breakthrough of her career came in 1849 when she was 27. Her previous painting of cattle had won a gold medal at the Salon of 1848 so the government commissioned a larger cattle painting: <i>Labourage Nivernais</i>, or <i>Ploughing in Nevers</i>. The piece was a monumental canvas that functioned as a grand history painting and positioned the oxen as mythical heroes. This wasn't what anyone expected. This</span><span><span> wasn't Bonheur the <i>animalier</i>, but Bonheur the grand allegorical painter. </span>The Académie were amazed and impressed.</span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><br /><span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNG8hyphenhyphen08ck0k07feGLfz2pMYSHHu2zF7o9vjEQUHWjSsLO46mJjJSFPK7ymoJAPdRmksxuZySrGX-RiY4HpdbLlO8SVUnL0VzxDpcRSQ8yevwmfzAx9ujgIfPrnxmtjhKlSIPcFj0-fVI/s1600/Rosa_Bonheur_-_Ploughing_in_Nevers_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="818" data-original-width="1600" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNG8hyphenhyphen08ck0k07feGLfz2pMYSHHu2zF7o9vjEQUHWjSsLO46mJjJSFPK7ymoJAPdRmksxuZySrGX-RiY4HpdbLlO8SVUnL0VzxDpcRSQ8yevwmfzAx9ujgIfPrnxmtjhKlSIPcFj0-fVI/w640-h328/Rosa_Bonheur_-_Ploughing_in_Nevers_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="reference-text"><i>Ploughing in Nevers (Labourage Nivernais)</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, 1849, 1.35 x 2.6 meters. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rosa_Bonheur_-_Ploughing_in_Nevers_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg">via</a>). </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><i>I think Bonheur's painting is
remarkable in that it raises animal painting (which was considered
mundane as flower painting) to the
celebrated level of history painting, both in its unusual use of allegorical
content and its heroic composition. The Académie considered allegory
to be closer to a higher intellectual truth because such symbolic artifice aimed to represent the "Platonic ideals" of abstract concepts. Bonheur was able, without pretentiousness, to
allegorically harness literature, religion and socio-political issues such as
industrialization, poverty, and proto-transcendentalism (Bonheur had
been raised in a socialist sect of Christianity at home,
versus a Catholic education). The composition itself is a precursor to
socialist and WPA-style art of the 1920s-30s which celebrated the humble
proletariat in heroic murals and posters. Its bold wide-open horizon
breaks with a big dynamic diagonal that implies the slow ineluctable
march of an object of titanic strength. Yet the allegorical content
receives equal billing in Bonheur's eyes to the individual personalities
of the oxen who are actually the stars of the picture. It's at once sentimental and transgressive, a rustic thumbing of the nose at Academic allegory while paying homage to it. </i></span></p></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLIgVuNhRWNLbvxxbJ7zNNLk5Tf6NuRZQE1wZhAl7HqCTRulijNAuwHnRYb6nKlien-jjI50dc2-DvZCwnNumTqTN4kQxbJqvbXlpfbK7Jt9LqTdYA2V4S_K0n9sFO03oQk0RRMDYxs9E/s376/Labourage_nivernais_dit_aussi_Le_Sombrage%252C_1849%252C_huile_sur_toile%252C_Rosa_Bonheur_%25287%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="376" data-original-width="324" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLIgVuNhRWNLbvxxbJ7zNNLk5Tf6NuRZQE1wZhAl7HqCTRulijNAuwHnRYb6nKlien-jjI50dc2-DvZCwnNumTqTN4kQxbJqvbXlpfbK7Jt9LqTdYA2V4S_K0n9sFO03oQk0RRMDYxs9E/w345-h400/Labourage_nivernais_dit_aussi_Le_Sombrage%252C_1849%252C_huile_sur_toile%252C_Rosa_Bonheur_%25287%2529.jpg" width="345" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p><span><span class="reference-text"><span style="font-size: large;">Detail from <i>Labourage Nivernais</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, 1849. (image <a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/06/Labourage_nivernais_dit_aussi_Le_Sombrage%2C_1849%2C_huile_sur_toile%2C_Rosa_Bonheur_%287%29.jpg">via</a>). <i>Bonheur's paintings were always unbelievably crisp and detailed but never stiff or pinched-looking</i>. <i>She was capable of loose wet-on-wet brushwork, as can be seen in many of her informal animal studies, but she usually kept her surfaces smooth and refined, as was the Academic standard of the day</i>. <i>Bonheur considered her paintings to be homages to nature in all its idiosyncratic perfection, so the more completely and precisely she copied nature, the better the homage. This attitude was criticized by some contemporaneous artists and philosophers, especially toward the end of the 1800s, who believed copying wasn't the same as </i>creating<i>. I also feel torn about this in regard to modern photorealistic painting. On one hand, I resent the implication that the highest possible achievement of an artist is to become a human camera or inkjet printer; while on the other hand I recognize that when artists reproduce such detail the practice becomes as meditative as it is based in curiosity, thus rendering the act inherently human. Paul Cezanne later remarked about this painting, </i>"it is horribly like the real thing." </span><br /></span></span></p></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>For such a simple image, <i>Labourage Nivernais</i>'s political and artistic context was complex, and Rosa intentionally made a statement with the piece which would define her political, social and artistic position for her entire career. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Here's a brief run-down of what was going on politically the year this was painted. After the chaos of the French Revolution (1790s) and glory days of Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte (1810s), France suffered under an ultra-conservative king. He was deposed and the more socially moderate King Louis Philippe assumed throne. However his economic policies were terrible-- he rejected both socialist reforms (like improving conditions for the working class and investing in public infrastructure) <i>and</i> liberal economics (free trade, industrial expansion). Though the 1830s the nation became poorer and poorer, with towns like Bordeaux hit the hardest (Bonheur's own family had left Bordeaux to seek commissions in Paris). In 1832 the Parisian working class attempted another revolution but it was violently suppressed (this event is what <i>Les Miserables</i> is about). Skilled workers like Rosa's father were reduced to working class laborers. Hundreds of thousands of children had been abandoned and around 1/3 of Paris was on welfare of sorts. Unemployment was completely out of control.</span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>In 1846 the harvests were bad and in 1847 rural peasant revolts were violently crushed. In Paris socialism was proliferating. Suddenly in February 1848 King Louis Philippe was overthrown and France was once again declared a Republic, with an elected provisional government (like after the Revolution in the 1790s). Since hardly anyone could vote they extended that right to all French men. <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Issue #1 on the agenda was unemployment. Socialists promoted the concept of "right to work" so the government organized "national workshops" which employed around 100,000 of the 800,000+ unemployed. To cover the program's costs they raised taxes on land owners, which hit small farmers the hardest (they were already facing food shortages). The rural peasantry revolted (including in Nivernais), so when the next round of elections came up in April a more conservative rural-friendly government was elected which put a stop to the national workshops. It is this government which commissioned Bonheur's painting. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Urban workers, seeing their chance at socialism slip away, rose up in a massive revolt. This time the petite bourgeoisie (the middle class of small business owners, who outnumbered the working class) did not join the revolt because they believed the new conservative Party of Order would protect them. The military crushed the revolt (with significant effort). With the socialists subdued, the Party of Order then threw the petite bougeoisie completely under the bus; most of them lost their businesses and became working class but by then it was too late for the proletariat. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>The final nail in the socialist coffin came in the December 1848 elections. The newly enfranchised rural peasantry exercised their majority to vote in a conservative President named Napoleon III (not to be confused with the more famous Napoleon Bonaparte of the 1810s). Napoleon III had promised to be all things to all people, but he turned out to be a bog-standard conservative. He abolished the representative government and declared himself Emperor three years later, then ruled for two decades. <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>This all took place within a year. So, why did France become so panicked so quickly that they elected a dictator? First, the 1790s Reign of Terror that had followed the French Revolution was still within living memory. Second, Paris's 1848 socialist revolt had spread all over Europe and everything was in turmoil. It felt like the world was ending. As for Bonheur, I don't know her political leanings on this issue. She'd have been exposed to both the rural and urban points of view, and while she knew poverty she was also a social climber. <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><i>Labourage Nivernais</i>, Bonheur's calming affirmation of rural heroism, was exhibited in 1849 just as the rural peasantry were high on their electoral power and hopeful for then-President Napoleon III. In this sense <i>Labourage Nivernais</i> leans conservative</span>. <span>Alternatively it could be seen as a working class socialist statement, with the oxen signifying the intimidating power of brute physical labor. Either way these themes would certainly have been on the minds of artists and viewers that year. <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><p><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Bonheur's animal paintings were never
extremely political but throughout her career she did offset this gruff working class realism
with a pleasing patina of sentimentality. Because of this balance her
work remained ambiguous on many fronts and was embraced by the aristocracy yet also achieved wide
popularity among all classes. The narrative of her later fame wasn't only
her success but the fact that she was "one of us" who made it big, an eccentric working class underdog who won the individualistic game of Capitalism. </span><br /></span></p></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span class="reference-text">To her contemporaries the strongest clue to the painting's meaning was that most understood it to be inspired by the opening scene of George Sand's 1846 novel <i>La Mare au Diable</i>, which was the first of four novels that Sand based loosely on her rural childhood. <span><span class="reference-text">Sand,
in her author's note, explained the opening scene as a different take on then-common depictions of ploughing as the most grueling part of life
from which death is a welcomed delivery. The old attitude is expressed well in an old French lyric: </span></span><i><span><span class="reference-text">By the sweat of your brow/ You earn your poor living/ After long years of exploitation/ Here is your invitation to death</span></span></i><span><span class="reference-text">.</span></span> The prevailing world-view was that God had filled life with
poverty and suffering just to earn a greater reward in Heaven. Sand disagreed and
believed God had blessed life and humanity; her novel's ploughing scene
was therefore a depiction of the contentment and familial felicity of
hard work. She also wished to portray poverty as something other than
nefarious and grotesque. Sand contrastsed an old man's two calm
oxen against a youth in the next field whose team of four lively young
oxen actually made ploughing more difficult, whose beautiful young
voice was ineffective to command while the old man's gravelly tone and
grizzled resignation were just right.</span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span class="reference-text"> </span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span class="reference-text">Bonheur admired Sand and was frequently compared to her because they were both were bold female creatives who cross-dressed. However Sand's leftist and feminist political leanings were explicit and outspoken. In 1848 she started a worker's newspaper and was elected to the leftist provisional government. This is particularly interesting since Bonheur's painting seemed to skew conservative.</span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span class="reference-text"> </span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span class="reference-text">Other comparisons were made to Courbet, who exhibited <i>The Stonebreakers</i> at the same Salon as <i>Labourage Nivernais</i>. </span></span></span></span><span>It
was at the front of a larger trend for realism which would produce countless images of rural poverty the 1840s-50s. "Realism" concerned itself with reality, unsentimental and unidealized, modern and directly lived (as opposed to Classical allegory or idealized versions of reality). In literature (Balzac, Flaubert, Zola) it was expressed as prolific attention to everyday detail, but realist artists often used simple, even crude brushstrokes to visually ally themselves with the rough working class. (I know, it's a bit counterintuitive but "realism" in art history doesn't mean that things look detailed and realistic, it's often the opposite). </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;">Bonheur regularly flirted with realism-- again, ambiguously. While her work was hardly a socialist manifesto, neither was it ever idealized into a Classical setting, nor was the arduous labor of peasants made to look decoratively picturesque-- though Bonheur did give it its own vigorous appeal. Bonheur was also one of many artists who bridged the divide within the Académie between "poussinistes" and "rubenistes," i.e. those who preferred crisp line and sculptural forms versus those who preferred lively brushstrokes, movement, and complex color. The two leading examples of both camps sat on the jury which awarded <i>Labourage Nivernais</i>; additionally Eugène Delacroix (the rubeniste and champion of realist Courbet) was a close friend of Sand. </span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span class="reference-text"><span>When
her <i>Labourage Nivernais</i> won the prestigious award, it lifted up the whole Bonheur family. Her father was appointed head of an art school for women, and
with it a comfortable salary. He was over the moon that he could finally
stop giving daily drawing lessons to survive and start doing the more
ambitious work he’d always dreamed of, but sadly just before he could begin, he died. Rosa was appointed head of the school in his
place and Juliette became a professor there. Rosa would remain passionate
about supporting and mentoring women artists her entire life. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJp6HKevm-Q_8vVcniBO7qR0d2sJAgadhWjCcva56yQQ3MIyXI-zOurKym-ppxUvWA8SlIc4eISK7MaWV6695pwiS8H9g3gqpmMgA-nJy71HIU7cdCmQMZTc2X_EfJVOnZdCbt2tSOt0w/s1600/1600px-Rosa_Bonheur_-_Deux_figures_masculines.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1049" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJp6HKevm-Q_8vVcniBO7qR0d2sJAgadhWjCcva56yQQ3MIyXI-zOurKym-ppxUvWA8SlIc4eISK7MaWV6695pwiS8H9g3gqpmMgA-nJy71HIU7cdCmQMZTc2X_EfJVOnZdCbt2tSOt0w/s320/1600px-Rosa_Bonheur_-_Deux_figures_masculines.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>Two Male Figures</i>, study by Rosa Bonheur, c. 1850-57. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rosa_Bonheur_-_Deux_figures_masculines.jpg">via</a>). </span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span><span><span><span><span class="reference-text"><span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhDbJnarLAvMnZ10-sEVCmiGaZn1s9tlLmlpoU2Q0d2f64TaqNfdd_Fx-Xp4CC_74uQ7h57irK8RYaVMCSSqN8oBCwqbwDtpP3vFhDGpPFnuJCCJ0w0uB8hVwYVn2uptcp0gSYYVGMtVE/s1446/1446px-Rosa_Bonheur_-_Wild_Cat_%25281850%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="1446" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhDbJnarLAvMnZ10-sEVCmiGaZn1s9tlLmlpoU2Q0d2f64TaqNfdd_Fx-Xp4CC_74uQ7h57irK8RYaVMCSSqN8oBCwqbwDtpP3vFhDGpPFnuJCCJ0w0uB8hVwYVn2uptcp0gSYYVGMtVE/w400-h333/1446px-Rosa_Bonheur_-_Wild_Cat_%25281850%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>Wild Cat</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, 1850. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rosa_Bonheur_-_Wild_Cat_(1850).jpg">via</a>). </span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Nathalie Micas seems to have been a very interesting woman, so I'm disappointed I couldn't find more information about her. She was an artist herself, frequently painting alongside Rosa, </span><span><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);">as well as a self-taught amateur veterinarian </span>and an amateur inventor. Again, I couldn't find records of any invention except a type of railroad brake which she tested using a miniature train with a few friends as volunteer passengers. Unfortunately the brake failed on a downhill run and <i>"several good ladies went flying"</i> (they were ok). According to another (questionably accurate) source Micas later exhibited the brake at the Chicago World's Fair. Bonheur wrote, quite amused, that Nathalie naturally gave off "grand tragic airs" and was her natural femme foil in many ways. About Nathalie's mother, who lived with Rosa and Nathalie until her death, I could find next to nothing. But accounts seem to imply the household was harmonious. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>The three women divided labor: Bonheur provided income for the entire house; Nathalie's mother was the housekeeper (and practically the zookeeper, given the amount of animals they accumulated); and Nathalie prepared canvases and assisted in the studio, negotiated with dealers and managed business affairs. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Bonheur's art was extremely physically demanding; she reminds me of those <i>National Geographic</i> wildlife photographers who go to ridiculous lengths to get that perfect snap. </span><span><span>She
and Nathalie frequently hiked into the
Pyrenees and stayed for weeks, camping and sketching. The only other
people around were the occasional muleteers (mule herders) in the mountain passes
who made frequent appearances in Bonheur's work. Once when she and Nathalie ran out of
food on the trail, Nathalie “obtained” a bunch of frogs, covered their legs with
leaves to improvise an <i>en papillote</i> steaming apparatus, and roasted
them over a fire; they lived on frog’s legs for two days. </span></span><span>It's this sort of vigorous effort to observe animals in their natural surrounds that cuts through any sentimentality in Bonheur's work: she captured so much of the animals' natural behavior that you could use her work as an ecological textbook. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span> </span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9dNumyLd68GNGrhjVGKAZoq5jFoqb1HuTf7byU_L8lbm08PHH_vkqatKqiWgM7Wt1d1Ja9YpdlBLJfzXBxpxvFkek8xv-O3M84LgFyQ2oNMsA81pDTFZb-E6kemK9HyDaxQxApLiPpN8/s460/micas-roosters.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="242" data-original-width="460" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9dNumyLd68GNGrhjVGKAZoq5jFoqb1HuTf7byU_L8lbm08PHH_vkqatKqiWgM7Wt1d1Ja9YpdlBLJfzXBxpxvFkek8xv-O3M84LgFyQ2oNMsA81pDTFZb-E6kemK9HyDaxQxApLiPpN8/w400-h210/micas-roosters.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is NOT by Bonheur, it's by Nathalie Micas, called <i>Roosters and Chickens in a Landscape</i>. (image <a href="https://www.femininemoments.dk/blog/jeanne-sarah-nathalie-micas-1824-1889/">via</a>). <i>The only remaining art I could find by Micas was this black and white photo of a painting, and a modest painting of two bunnies. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span>Bonheur skyrocketed to international celebrity in 1852 with the monumental painting, <i>Horse Fair</i>.</span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGhd-7URsOlZoqbloTz076K0v3Ucjv5rxptRSxS-gB2GnqmaRQy1icxSNvih5URgKdMRXYlJ669Nw4cuVmqvfqXei2qTnfDSXIrlS3zqvgMie1Fl6jvlSeBZTLpRbA2hYt2Q-HF_VayQ/s1600/Rosa_bonheur_horse_fair_1835_55.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="758" data-original-width="1600" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGhd-7URsOlZoqbloTz076K0v3Ucjv5rxptRSxS-gB2GnqmaRQy1icxSNvih5URgKdMRXYlJ669Nw4cuVmqvfqXei2qTnfDSXIrlS3zqvgMie1Fl6jvlSeBZTLpRbA2hYt2Q-HF_VayQ/w640-h304/Rosa_bonheur_horse_fair_1835_55.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>The Horse Fair</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, c. 1852-55. Purchased by Cornelius Vanderbilt and on view at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, NY (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rosa_bonheur_horse_fair_1835_55.jpg">via</a>). <i>This is considered Bonheur's greatest painting, and it's absolutely enormous. One day while Bonheur was at the horse fair (a regularly occurring Paris marketplace) she was struck by the parade's resemblance to a sculpted frieze in the Parthenon. Looking at the outline of the group of horses, you can even see the reference to the long triangular shape of a neoclassical tempanum or pediment which typically displayed sculpted tableaux of melodramaticly posed deities. Here the horses assume the role of gods as their magnificent bodies create the bombast; the rearing white horse could easily stand in for Zeus. But this isn't an imaginary classical setting. The dome of the Hôpital</i></span></span><span><span class="reference-text"><i><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 150px; top: 764.383px; transform: scaleX(1.037);"> La Salpêtrière rises in the background, anchoring the scene in modern day Paris. Bonheur made extensive studies of horses for this piece, as well as studying the equine work of Théodore Géricault. Bonheur was nearly finished with this painting when a horse put its hoof through the canvas. The piece was delayed as she had to patch it up and re-paint. <br /></span></i></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><i>Horse
Fair</i> should have won Bonheur the incredibly prestigious Legion of Honor, so everyone was expecting Emperor Napoleon III to award it to her at the customary celebratory dinner at
the Tuileries. But he did not. One writer in the 1880s, pausing her inspirational children's book narrative to throw serious shade, suggested Napoleon III was too insecure in the legitimacy of his authority to take the risk of awarding the Legion of Honor to the first ever woman. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>His wife Empress Eugénie disapproved of the slight and held onto the resentment for twelve long years, until Napoleon III traveled
abroad and left her in charge as Regent for the summer. One day while Bonheur was painting in her
country studio Empress Eugénie's royal coaches rolled up unexpectedly. Eugénie knocked; no one answered. So she just wandered inside, pet the barking dogs until they calmed down, and poked around the property until she found Bonheur, flabbergasted, in her pants and smock. She strode up to the painter and gave her a big hug and kiss. They chatted for a
few minutes before Eugénie made her royal exit, and it was only after
she left that Bonheur realized, as Eugenie had hugged her she’d pinned the
Cross of the Legion of Honor to her smock. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Eugenie made it her mission to advocate for the equality of women, pressuring the Ministry of National Education to award baccalaureate diplomas to women and (unsuccessfully) to get George Sand elected as the first female member of the Académie française. "<i>Genius</i>," she famously declared, "<i>has no sex</i>." <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Two years later Auguste Bonheur would
also win the Legion of Honor for his exquisite landscapes. Rosa won similar honors from the King of
Belgium and King of Spain. Years later she was promoted from chevalier to officer of the Legion of Honor (those awarded can advance in rank with further honors; officers of the Legion of Honor are basically statesmen). After Eugénie's visit Nathalie habitually hung a dress by the front door so Rosa could do a quick-change for any visiting VIPs. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Bonheur, gruff and reclusive as she was, still had a gift for self-promotion and Nathalie was a good business manager. But an art dealer from London named Ernest Gambart was to thank for much of Bonheur's public management throughout her career. Gambart snatched up <i>The Horse Fair</i> when it was first exhibited and hired a talented engraver named Thomas Landseer to make a print of the piece. In those days before photographic reproductions, an artist could grant permission to an engraver to reproduce their painting (by hand-engraving a finely detailed black and white drawing on a metal printing plate); the artist then received royalties on all prints sold. That is how most audiences viewed art, unless they were lucky enough to see a painted copy in a museum or to travel to see the original. Landseer's print sold so well that by the end of the 19th century every post office, dining room and textbook in Europe and the US had a copy. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Ernest Gambart must have been a legendary hype man because he was able to arrange a star-studded victory tour of Bonheur and the painting through England. He negotiated commissions, arranged strategic social engagements and publicized the piece so well that Bonheur and Micas were greeted by cheering crowds. Queen Victoria scheduled a private viewing and dined with Bonheur, then purchased several pieces. Bonheur also met John Ruskin, the most important art critic of the era (and she was not impressed</span><span>: <i>"he is a gentleman,
an educated gentleman; but he is a theorist. He sees nature with a
little eye – just like a bird."</i>) The tour had a lasting impact in that Bonheur became even more famous in England than her native France. <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>While in England Bonheur painted a copy, reduced in size, of <i>The Horse Fair</i>, which hangs in the National Gallery in London. I often see art history texts mentioning offhand that painters would make a copy or two of their paintings, and that boggles my mind. The last thing I can imagine doing when I finish even a drawing, would be to start the entire thing over again and reproduce it perfectly. In Bonheur's case Nathalie made the under-drawing and began the painting while Bonheur finished it. It was likely not their only such collaboration. Artists often tasked assistants with the bulk of copies which the artist would then complete, but it wasn't always the case.</span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>From London the couple traveled to rural Scotland, where Bonheur fell in love with the landscape. She would go on to create several pieces portraying a highlander way of life which had largely disappeared by Victorian times and which appealed to modern English sensibilities. As she traveled rumors began to circulate that she'd marry the famous English painter Sir Edwin Landseer (brother of the engraver). He publicly remarked, “[The Horse Fair] <i>surpasses me, though it’s a
little hard to be beaten by a woman</i>." Bonheur did not return to France with a husband, as speculated, but
she did bring back a dog. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_TdGrwjRRvAF4Kf5GhD9RjbNvLXkT54eDOHUOt4EAjuYzUSjxNxdkOEXIovr-clECm3_w6hukPPHvSZ2Kn570W8GTQ39WG319EaDGBF3cjIs7I4G_pZ9UyZGHmpUMO5TS21qcab8I278/s1558/Rosa_Bonheur_-_The_Highland_Shepherd.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="1558" height="492" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_TdGrwjRRvAF4Kf5GhD9RjbNvLXkT54eDOHUOt4EAjuYzUSjxNxdkOEXIovr-clECm3_w6hukPPHvSZ2Kn570W8GTQ39WG319EaDGBF3cjIs7I4G_pZ9UyZGHmpUMO5TS21qcab8I278/w640-h492/Rosa_Bonheur_-_The_Highland_Shepherd.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>The Highland Shepherd</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, 1859. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rosa_Bonheur_-_The_Highland_Shepherd.jpg">via</a>). <i>One
of many paintings Bonheur made after visiting Scotland. The Highlander
way of life she depicted was already a quaint anachronism by that point
and appealed to the nostalgia of Industrial era
Europe. Bonheur frequently married Christian imagery of
shepherding with a sense of ancient heritage; in some of her paintings
shepherds share their food with the flock while in others the diligent shepherd is weary from keeping watch. While among Bonheur's contemporaries a popular subject were angelic teen shepherdesses, Bonheur's shepherds were always
strong and rustic yet tender-hearted, creating a portrait of an ideal Christian masculinity
which was as generous and loving as it was rugged and protective. </i> <br /></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 150px; top: 764.383px; transform: scaleX(1.037);"><br /> </span></span></div></div></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span> </span></span><span><span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8uWYXWOsG6F3tOJRYV7S56_7Wf9pVro2-Gfi_KtNQNvrnUpQ-lxADbpqz1E4j4KZTCkQrKn9y-zTDNwgL2DQ3Eo3V3y8LkGmXL82bJRG2sLlc_8BIP912Qboj9Xs64BkBC5ILEQ-T-gg/s1600/Rosa_Bonheur_-_Changement_de_pa%25CC%2582turages.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1014" data-original-width="1600" height="404" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8uWYXWOsG6F3tOJRYV7S56_7Wf9pVro2-Gfi_KtNQNvrnUpQ-lxADbpqz1E4j4KZTCkQrKn9y-zTDNwgL2DQ3Eo3V3y8LkGmXL82bJRG2sLlc_8BIP912Qboj9Xs64BkBC5ILEQ-T-gg/w640-h404/Rosa_Bonheur_-_Changement_de_pa%25CC%2582turages.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>Changing Pastures</i> (also known as <i>Rowing Boat</i>), by Rosa Bonheur, 1863. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rosa_Bonheur_-_Changement_de_p%C3%A2turages.jpg">via</a>). </span></span><span><span><span><span class="reference-text"><i>That is a lot of sheep in one boat.</i> <i>How did they get them in there?</i> <i>If you look closely you can see the Scotish tam o' shanter hats over red hair and a tartan cloak. </i><br /></span></span></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqIt8XkQwXn6F0v1DeaUrytix74-VScb7SfMjkVi5sUbeutkmEH9iNmaZiir0aSdYpeAB5ojOfnhSwqkLRjovCqGiBiAaRrp7f3bED1WIUw3_8Vhr_Xr4rVIcqrkYiwTWCjGOGoCJq8gs/s1600/1600px-Rosa_Bonheur_-_Sheep_by_the_Sea_%25281865%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1128" data-original-width="1600" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqIt8XkQwXn6F0v1DeaUrytix74-VScb7SfMjkVi5sUbeutkmEH9iNmaZiir0aSdYpeAB5ojOfnhSwqkLRjovCqGiBiAaRrp7f3bED1WIUw3_8Vhr_Xr4rVIcqrkYiwTWCjGOGoCJq8gs/w640-h452/1600px-Rosa_Bonheur_-_Sheep_by_the_Sea_%25281865%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>Sheep by the Sea</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, 1865. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rosa_Bonheur_-_Sheep_by_the_Sea_(1865).jpg">via</a>). </span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>The money from <i>Horse Fair</i> enabled Bonheur, Nathalie and Madame Micas to purchase a château in the forests of Fontainbleau outside Paris, and it was <i>awesome</i>. The Baroque structure was a tiny castle with old gardens still landscaped in the style of Le Nôtre (who had designed the grounds of Versailles) surrounded by forest. At the end of one avenue of linden trees stood a bronze statue by Isadore Bonheur. In these gardens lived two chamois (antelopes from the Pyrenees) in a wire enclosure; a grazing cow and bull and several horses who served as Bonheur's models; and assorted hounds. In a nearby lawn sheep and deer grazed who were acually on hugging terms with Bonheur. Then there were the hounds, the various other dogs, the eagle, parrot and other birds, rabbits, ducks, squirrels. The puckish otter who hid in their bed, the bears, the butterflies, the monkey. And Néro the lion and Fathma the lioness, whom Bonheur treated as pet dogs, and who roamed freely and came when called. <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><br /><span><span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUcZPd2poydj3WleIUSvsCHaP-YJvxXGOTMBE1alOMelbjxLCCrTST61u9sJ_arIineHA4TcFcLME1gxtRz1dOA2cBhKSbAe1uGsQ2AYeeNz2lXTGw6EmFGfVYe3Ou7nzt_dj4HjdLhks/s1577/Rosa_Bonheur_-_Le_monarque_de_la_meute.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="1577" height="486" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUcZPd2poydj3WleIUSvsCHaP-YJvxXGOTMBE1alOMelbjxLCCrTST61u9sJ_arIineHA4TcFcLME1gxtRz1dOA2cBhKSbAe1uGsQ2AYeeNz2lXTGw6EmFGfVYe3Ou7nzt_dj4HjdLhks/w640-h486/Rosa_Bonheur_-_Le_monarque_de_la_meute.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>The Monarch of the Herd</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, 1868. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rosa_Bonheur_-_Le_monarque_de_la_meute.jpg">via</a>). <i>These deer were likely those living at the Chateau Bly. Bonheur had a</i></span></span><span><span class="reference-text"><span><span><i> huge
antlered stag who let her hug and pet him.</i> <br /></span></span></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"> </span><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Bonheur's only modernization was a new brick studio (and quarters for the chauffer) which held an explosion of collected curiosities. Paintings all over the walls, abundant taxidermy (including stuffed heads of Bonheur's former beloved animals), Scottish bagpipes, paintings by the other Bonheurs, and a fireplace flanked by two life-size dogs sculpted by Isadore. Live birds flew around and perched wherever they liked. Bonheur's guests were often shocked by the animals roaming freely in all of Bonheur's successive residences, particularly the mess and aroma.</span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIEt9_ZuCZ-E-8Nm-PhzUDjcupVCeW8cf9ypbph6OR9A2oA8YZQX0gBU96l7L0ZGRFZYqo19HoJkauWyQj33me2GleOTL2_e4cVCF68Nhz7lO15CezZw8wsGB_SZSGG4KEqDPrL3hH3A/s564/fdb5ccc320c84483628aaed9ae467d94.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="382" data-original-width="564" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIEt9_ZuCZ-E-8Nm-PhzUDjcupVCeW8cf9ypbph6OR9A2oA8YZQX0gBU96l7L0ZGRFZYqo19HoJkauWyQj33me2GleOTL2_e4cVCF68Nhz7lO15CezZw8wsGB_SZSGG4KEqDPrL3hH3A/w640-h434/fdb5ccc320c84483628aaed9ae467d94.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>Études de Chiens</i> <i>(Studies of Dogs)</i>,
by Rosa Bonheur, undated. (image via Pinterest, uncredited; the piece
seems to be in the collection of the nascent museum at Bonheur's
chateau). <i>Bonheur was a prolific painter of dogs of all breeds</i>. <br /></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6NHPGzw69ptvj8BwdqXO8JbW-Tc-T53ehsKzdqLkJM4XwlIyp9_sZWnZRwQX0Su5S60rb5x6NQqt9EC_kLGbSnKzectiNN9bxTqOWy3LGvR6Vq5386OD14V0_P4v2-h9I5wviX2FswHk/s800/Wild-Boar-with-Piglets-Rosa-Bonheur-Oil-Painting.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="651" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6NHPGzw69ptvj8BwdqXO8JbW-Tc-T53ehsKzdqLkJM4XwlIyp9_sZWnZRwQX0Su5S60rb5x6NQqt9EC_kLGbSnKzectiNN9bxTqOWy3LGvR6Vq5386OD14V0_P4v2-h9I5wviX2FswHk/w522-h640/Wild-Boar-with-Piglets-Rosa-Bonheur-Oil-Painting.jpg" width="522" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="reference-text"><i>Wild Boar with Piglets</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, undated. (image <a href="https://www.oceansbridge.com/shop/artists/b/blu-bor/bonheur-rosa-maria/wild-boar-with-piglets">via</a>). <i>Another
scene from the forests of Fontainbleau around Chateau By. Why is it a
universal human urge to see a wild thing that could kill us and think,
"pet it. Peeeeet iiiiiiit." Wild boars can really mess you up
unfortunately, especially if a mother has piglets nearby. But oh my god,
the piglets! Looook at theeem! </i><br /></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: large;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPPF7_FibPoarynxbzcOyFONqRqO8UBfiv-npoyMddjtLRPx0ILc_Ac2smoek8gVDH1UPHu4JNar1suyLLnOuATs0fidXjb6CPt2dGiSUJTN1LrNTblAvK5IlVZKA5ZBsLOoBkW1Cvn-U/s1858/Bonheur_Palette_MIA_9274.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1858" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPPF7_FibPoarynxbzcOyFONqRqO8UBfiv-npoyMddjtLRPx0ILc_Ac2smoek8gVDH1UPHu4JNar1suyLLnOuATs0fidXjb6CPt2dGiSUJTN1LrNTblAvK5IlVZKA5ZBsLOoBkW1Cvn-U/w640-h414/Bonheur_Palette_MIA_9274.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Left: <i>a rare antique Rosa Bonheur doll, which were popular in England and the US. It shows Bonheur's typical menswear and cropped hair</i>. (image <a href="https://www.proxibid.com/Art-Antiques-Collectibles/Toys-Hobbies/German-Bisque-Rosa-Bonheur-Doll-with-Sculpted-Hair-and-Glass-Eyes-1100-1500/lotInformation/51907405">via</a>). Middle: <i>Bonheur's palette with a little study of a deer in the middle </i>(image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bonheur_Palette_MIA_9274.jpg">via</a>). Right: <i>Bonheur's
official license from the police to wear men's clothing (but not to
shows, balls and other events open to the public), which she'd have had
to get renewed every six months </i><i><span><span class="reference-text">(image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Permission_de_travestissement_Rosa_Bonheur.jpg">via</a>)</span></span>.
She was one of roughly 12 women to receive this license in the 1850s
(maybe more, as record-keeping was haphazard), including her partner
Nathalie Micas.</i> <i>Otherwise wearing pants or other men's clothing would have been a crime.</i> <i><span><span class="reference-text"><i>These
permits and cross-dressing laws originated just after the French
Revolution which, though radically progressive in most realms, was
strangely reactionary when it came to women. There was actually a harsh
crackdown on women's rights under Robespierre's Jacobin republic which
persisted though somewhat relaxed under Napoleon Bonaparte (the famous
one, not to be confused with Napoleon III who ruled during Bonheur's
lifetime). George Sand (the pen name
of a great French writer and female contemporary whom Bonheur admired)
also dressed as a man but never received permission; she claimed
legally that dressing as a noblewoman simply cost too much and was an
undue burden.</i></span></span> Bonheur would have had to obtain a
notarized recommendation from a health official demonstrating legitimate
medical need. However "medical need" was interpreted widely from
district to district; working professionally in some "male" jobs
(including journalist, print-shop worker, explorer) qualified for
permits (as Bonheur could claim based on plein aire painting), and
sometimes even appearing naturally masculine qualified, as
cross-dressing was understood to help the woman blend in and protect her
from harassment</i>. <i>What I find remarkable is how her short hair
and men's clothes were portrayed as exciting and almost glamorous in
sources from the 1800s, particularly for children. Unfeminine women were
often treated contemptuously by Victorian writers, but </i><i><span><span class="reference-text"><i>Bonheur seems to have caught imaginations in just the right way, or simply </i></span></span>the fantasy of
freely roaming the countryside, unchaperoned, uncorseted and unbothered.</i><i> Bonheur
herself did encounter some negative reactions, but when she was poor she
was too poor to care; and when she was rich she could afford not to care. "</i>My gruff disposition,<i>" she said, </i>"which is even a bit uncivilized, has never stopped my heart from staying perfectly feminine."<i> </i><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: large;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Despite her legendary work ethic and grand paintings Bonheur loved goofing around with other artists. She made caricatures, visual games and puzzles; a very personal comic was recently discovered as well. Bonheur and Nathalie Micas founded an artist's group at the Château By roughly in the Saint Simeonist spirit. The pair were apparently on good terms with the peasants who lived around Château By. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Though she relished her isolation Bonheur often visited Gambart, her art dealer, at his museum-mansion in Nice, where she schmoozed with the international aristocracy and won elite contracts. <i>"Such things please me about as much as twenty kicks in the backside!"</i> she wrote, but the exotic menageries of the local glitterati must have eased the alleged torture of the Riviera. Panthers, polar bears and wild mustangs were available for sketching.</span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Bonheur's attitude toward animals, besides obvious enthusiasm, was incredibly tender yet also hardened from her agrarian childhood. She loved hunting, calling herself "the Diana of Fontainbleau." She collected taxidermy (including many stuffed former pets), but also seemed to have a loving personal relationship with any animal she came across. But, like a typical farmer, when an animal grew ill she immediately killed it to put it out of misery. Any animals that didn't fit in to her lifestyle were re-homed. And, had the Prussians tried to ransack the Château, Bonheur had even planned to kill her entire menagerie rather than let it fall into enemy hands. An example which perfectly encapsulates Bonheur's attitude is when Fathma the Lioness grew too old to climb the Château's stairs one final time and died in Bonheur's arms. Then Bonheur had Fathma's hide made into a rug for her studio. <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRSyDdwq6vsL6rtJ9CpInOU-5GAinzzESxgJTP6ssePsAgImA4sahFNfa7mXaBaCXKHji-BwtTy48OGEiUP27rn2rMdgCmXYMWGOrCwa-N8ISO6UFTZGzF1zzSQ__NofpLLmANm4X9I9Q/s2000/rosa-bonheur-comic.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1700" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRSyDdwq6vsL6rtJ9CpInOU-5GAinzzESxgJTP6ssePsAgImA4sahFNfa7mXaBaCXKHji-BwtTy48OGEiUP27rn2rMdgCmXYMWGOrCwa-N8ISO6UFTZGzF1zzSQ__NofpLLmANm4X9I9Q/w544-h640/rosa-bonheur-comic.jpg" width="544" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Several pages from a recently discovered comic by Rosa Bonheur, 1870 (images via <a href="http://muchacreative.paris/rosa-bonheurs-gay-comic/">Mucha Creative</a> and <a href="https://www.musee-orsay.fr/en/collections/graphic-arts-displays.html?zoom=1&tx_damzoom_pi1%5Bpath%5D=fileadmin%2Fmediatheque%2Fintegration_MO%2FRF.MO.AG.2018.8.7.jpg&cHash=ce0ff68d1e">Musée d'Orsay</a>). <i>It shows Nathalie and Madame Micas leaving Rosa and her friend, the artist Paul Chardin, for the day. "Free at last!" cries Rosa, and she and Paul smoke cigars like bachelors then go hiking. They end up falling out of a tree (something to do with Bonheur getting mistaken for a priest because of her hat) and return home to Nathalie wet and dejected like strays. Bonheur likely drew this for Nathalie's amusement. The industrious owner of Bonheur's chateau and director of its museum recently found the comic hidden in her attic, among other treasures. Musée d'Orsay recently exhibited the cartoons. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNHoy1iFd8WvGORMU48xHPqd9aS21WOq6hbnkI63BUjF7CJSG1mmbnd4tqfKtn0_K4a5py3ejh7LBueQ6tBsS443HPNfOTHJUUbjvAvZJzqCf2-3e059vvarSlH9Dd3Ep1pKHjVtycRVA/s1600/lossy-page1-1600px-Rosa_Bonheur_-_The_Farm_at_the_Entrance_of_the_Wood_-_1978.73_-_Cleveland_Museum_of_Art.tif.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1106" data-original-width="1600" height="442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNHoy1iFd8WvGORMU48xHPqd9aS21WOq6hbnkI63BUjF7CJSG1mmbnd4tqfKtn0_K4a5py3ejh7LBueQ6tBsS443HPNfOTHJUUbjvAvZJzqCf2-3e059vvarSlH9Dd3Ep1pKHjVtycRVA/w640-h442/lossy-page1-1600px-Rosa_Bonheur_-_The_Farm_at_the_Entrance_of_the_Wood_-_1978.73_-_Cleveland_Museum_of_Art.tif.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>The Farm at the Entrance of the Wood</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, between 1860-80. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rosa_Bonheur_-_The_Farm_at_the_Entrance_of_the_Wood_-_1978.73_-_Cleveland_Museum_of_Art.tif">via</a>). </span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>In 1870 came another government regime change. Some background: German statesman Otto von Bismarck yearned to unite North and South Germany into one nation, but unfortunately the Protestant North and Catholic South absolutely hated each other. To overcome this hurdle Bismarck decided to unite them in hatred of something they loathed even more than each other: France. Bismarck then picked a war with France (he flagrantly insulted their diplomat) and poor France, completely unprepared, was decimated. Paris fell under siege-- many of the future Impressionists fought to defend it-- and Parisians became so desperate they were forced to eat all the animals in the zoo. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>The Prussian (German) army passed right by Château By, but by special order of the Prussian general, who was a great admirer of Bonheur, the Château and all its servants were left completely unharmed. Bonheur was devastated that she hadn't been permitted to join the army to fight the Prussians. <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>France surrendered while Emperor Napoleon III was abroad, so he lost face and was forced to abdicate. Germany was successfully united. After an armed domestic revolt Paris briefly declared itself an anarcho-communist free state, but France's provisional Minister of War was able to flee Paris in a hot air balloon then help establish the modern Third Republic (1871-1940). Bonheur was to thrive in the Republic as well. <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBM1vdHd8W38OUtnjSTvtnCS5lc8Ue0aPhwClMmJD2xRV-50V69M3oPC0ARV7RSG9CidAV6yhryItz-F9ulbp-6H1ANC5tAyQMzqSkTNp1agovT_UTcSvNSDrmkEseDaqj6kqFx8cfebw/s1600/1600px-Rosa_Bonheur_-_Sangliers_dans_la_neige.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1104" data-original-width="1600" height="442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBM1vdHd8W38OUtnjSTvtnCS5lc8Ue0aPhwClMmJD2xRV-50V69M3oPC0ARV7RSG9CidAV6yhryItz-F9ulbp-6H1ANC5tAyQMzqSkTNp1agovT_UTcSvNSDrmkEseDaqj6kqFx8cfebw/w640-h442/1600px-Rosa_Bonheur_-_Sangliers_dans_la_neige.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>Wild Boars in the Snow</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, c. 1870. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rosa_Bonheur_-_Sangliers_dans_la_neige.jpg">via</a>). <i>A subtle reference to the Prussian Army passing through neighboring Fontainbleau Forest, perhaps?</i></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>In these later decades the Women's Movement was also gaining traction. Bonheur's position on organized women's groups, though, was ambiguous. She was a great supporter of women's rights and equality, but mainly as an individualist, a romantic genius who would demonstrate, not request, woman's place in history. One must remember that in those days organized women's movements had yet to manifest their effectiveness and the concept was largely untested. Bonheur's main concern was that women would become ghettoized through organization. Especially when it came to organizing for women in the arts-- the struggle to be seen as "an artist," instead of "a woman artist" has been a common theme for countless female artists today and indeed throughout time. She did, however, accept a position as president of the </span><span><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);">Société des Femmes Peintres et Sculpteurs. And she did celebrate the Women's Movement's gains in the US. </span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);"> </span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);">But she said, </span></span><i><span><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);"><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);">‘Women’s
rights! – women’s nonsense! Women should
seek to establish their rights by good and great works, and not by
conventions.<span class="ellipsis"><nobr> <span class="ellipsis-dot">.</span><span class="ellipsis-dot">.</span><span class="ellipsis-dot">.</span></nobr></span> [...] </span></span></span></i><span><i><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);"><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);"><span>I
wed art, that is my husband, my world, my life-dream, the air I
breathe. […] I have no taste for general society, or interest in its
frivolities. I only seek to be known through my works. If the world feel
and understand them, I have succeeded. […] If I had got up a convention
to debate the question of my ability to paint </span></span></span></i><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);"><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);"><span>The Horse Fair</span></span></span><i><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);"><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);"><span>, the
decision would have been against me. I felt the power within me to
paint; I have cultivated it. […] I have no patience for women who ask<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span></i><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);"><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);"><span>permission to think</span></span></span><i><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);"><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);"><span>!” </span></span></span></i> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Bonheur's insistence on transcending femininity, on beating men at their own game, also set her up to be seen as an anomoly of her sex. But Bonheur made an indelible mark on the female art world through championing myriad younger women artists and protégées. As she became wealthy she was very generous in support; she took extremely valuable paintings and sketches right off her wall to gift and fund struggling young artists and formally funded many scholarships and stipends. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Bonheur's paintings certainly don't offer much food for thought in the way of gender critique or any sort of statement on womanhood. However, as I pointed out above, her work did offer a singular and appealing view of masculinity which I've never seen discussed. The Bonheur Man was rugged, affectionate, and as full of vigor as he was attentive. He was not necessarily classically handsome, but Bonheur clearly saw physical beauty of sorts in her male subjects. They are even sometimes a bit objectified. Did you check out that shepherd's legs or that figure study's butt in the previous images? I did. In my opinion, there is definitely something there with Bonheur and the male figure. <i>And</i> I personally believe she was a lesbian. Make of that what you will. <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI8cvHkNvnuvu1OJ_nLEjL0O-iNy8lt4ni0AZOlFDwGyYIgCLJOdhCdmPn6WBEQjS5IU_eq8kVmB4Nd42PyWo02GfJE5j795ReUd62lPVay6UGINeWIsldOXimZllY4kIXzSjM8dTK3fo/s850/1010px-Rosa_bonheur%252C_due_capre%252C_1870_ca.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="670" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI8cvHkNvnuvu1OJ_nLEjL0O-iNy8lt4ni0AZOlFDwGyYIgCLJOdhCdmPn6WBEQjS5IU_eq8kVmB4Nd42PyWo02GfJE5j795ReUd62lPVay6UGINeWIsldOXimZllY4kIXzSjM8dTK3fo/w504-h640/1010px-Rosa_bonheur%252C_due_capre%252C_1870_ca.jpg" width="504" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>Two Goats</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, 1870. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rosa_bonheur,_due_capre,_1870_ca.jpg">via</a>). <i>I like how formalistic this portrait is. It reminds me of the Girl Scouts logo, but with goats.</i> </span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><br /><span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMeYa5hsOeMSkzPuuJGerH1-D00v8VZ4vulZ2pgnIcQR9ID_StZd8-XcasPasQ-aOkLIjiz8s9098TjvLEJvMr-dcIgffM3i4wIXxDeYu2NyLCZNHYiKo8NoehbdNADCcBpo1aLsu4gQk/s1198/850px-2017_NYR_14141_0024_rosa_bonheur_le_roi_de_la_foret%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="850" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMeYa5hsOeMSkzPuuJGerH1-D00v8VZ4vulZ2pgnIcQR9ID_StZd8-XcasPasQ-aOkLIjiz8s9098TjvLEJvMr-dcIgffM3i4wIXxDeYu2NyLCZNHYiKo8NoehbdNADCcBpo1aLsu4gQk/w454-h640/850px-2017_NYR_14141_0024_rosa_bonheur_le_roi_de_la_foret%2529.jpg" width="454" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>Le Roi de la forêt</i> <i>(King of the Forest)</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, 1878. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:2017_NYR_14141_0024_rosa_bonheur_le_roi_de_la_foret).jpg">via</a>). </span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLA47yoOK-pgu4EZZ4dkV2YRc-KKmie5K0cQ0ZEqB37tVM1qdqmjobzPMGr8Pgje-gDWrK5h6FHkTmHsCfgG4PtUjN0BxbdisJ72WtrSyCEGltR-jEstVxSW6GXUEYMntJ9DBzdMLXFY/s800/0f6a8b64-a040-e9a7-e5a2-c5233df3a3f0.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="658" data-original-width="800" height="526" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLA47yoOK-pgu4EZZ4dkV2YRc-KKmie5K0cQ0ZEqB37tVM1qdqmjobzPMGr8Pgje-gDWrK5h6FHkTmHsCfgG4PtUjN0BxbdisJ72WtrSyCEGltR-jEstVxSW6GXUEYMntJ9DBzdMLXFY/w640-h526/0f6a8b64-a040-e9a7-e5a2-c5233df3a3f0.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Lion</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, c. 1880. (image <a href="https://www.artic.edu/artworks/70989/lion">via</a>). <br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiUNSIcZg5wQdiZCmrBs_PcBmOAMUTcwD9b9S84xgoSogoPvDtR3aQKtd1xTY5wNSuBLApP0SoUWd2nUq7s7KqcUEntMHdbR5NSvsFVkEXOZyxc07dNyK7spacWgcOuk-UbD6CfN3A3u0/s1600/1600px-2013_PAR_03547_0063_rosa_bonheur_cerf_et_biche_dans_un_paysage_enneige%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="991" data-original-width="1600" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiUNSIcZg5wQdiZCmrBs_PcBmOAMUTcwD9b9S84xgoSogoPvDtR3aQKtd1xTY5wNSuBLApP0SoUWd2nUq7s7KqcUEntMHdbR5NSvsFVkEXOZyxc07dNyK7spacWgcOuk-UbD6CfN3A3u0/w640-h396/1600px-2013_PAR_03547_0063_rosa_bonheur_cerf_et_biche_dans_un_paysage_enneige%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>Cerf et biche dans un paysage enneigé (Buck and Doe in a Snowy Landscape)</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, 1883. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:2013_PAR_03547_0063_rosa_bonheur_cerf_et_biche_dans_un_paysage_enneige).jpg">via</a>). </span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>In the 1880s and 90s Bonheur's palatte became lighter, perhaps due to the inescapable influence of the Impressionists. It was the beginning of a changing tide in the art world which would eventually leave Bonheur's academic style adrift.<br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2fnsGaIoyz7jaLMDYpXYN7MeiASv41ju7MGQYl8fFpERZhCIpJm29mdHzevOCt2-YfqTfo8IWQIU8MIkx4iYJUlrAUO3wDemhpcsX8X18Nf_Play-Yy0vm60Zbmo0CX20hAI_H6X72Do/s1024/Rosa_Bonheur_-_Royale_a%25CC%2580_la_maison.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="704" data-original-width="1024" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2fnsGaIoyz7jaLMDYpXYN7MeiASv41ju7MGQYl8fFpERZhCIpJm29mdHzevOCt2-YfqTfo8IWQIU8MIkx4iYJUlrAUO3wDemhpcsX8X18Nf_Play-Yy0vm60Zbmo0CX20hAI_H6X72Do/w640-h440/Rosa_Bonheur_-_Royale_a%25CC%2580_la_maison.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>Royalty at Home</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, 1885. Watercolor. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rosa_Bonheur_-_Royale_%C3%A0_la_maison.jpg">via</a>). <br /></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>In April 1889 Buffalo Bill Cody's <i>Wild West</i> show arrived in Paris. It was an overnight sensation. Bonheur was incredibly inspired by Cody's romantic portrayal of the Wild West and especially by the cast of Native Americans who traveled with him. Cody arranged for the Native American troop members to set up camp near the show so that curious French people could see how they lived and witness their friendly everyday family life outside of the "wagon raid" dramas they staged under the circus tent. Bonheur and Cody made fast friends and Bonheur visited the camps frequently, keeping detailed sketchbooks of tools and clothing which would later aid her in a series of large paintings of Native Americans on horseback. Bonheur expressed dismay that the Native Americans, who represented to her freedom and authenticity, were being driven into obscurity by the "white usurpers." She was so grateful to Buffalo Bill that she invited him to Château By and offered to paint his portrait for free. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Later that summer Rosa's world changed dramatically when Nathalie died. </span><span><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);"><i>"You can very well understand how hard it is to be separated
from a friend like my Nathalie, whom I loved more and more as we
advanced in life; for she had borne with me the mortifications and
stupidities inflicted on us by the silly, ignorant, low-minded people.
She alone knew me, and I, her only friend, knew what she was worth."</i></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);"><i> </i></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);">Buffalo Bill did visit the Bonheur later that summer, and despite her grief she painted a very famous portrait of him which hangs at the Whitney. Years later when Cody's Nebraska house caught fire he wired his sister to let it burn, but save the portrait-- and she did. </span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);"><i> <br /></i></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><br /><span><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 495.267px; top: 124.383px; transform: scaleX(1.0729);"><i><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigSs1ISbX1g3sc1rkUQxB-bddk3cC4gqz6Btufs4x98GbfyHeRUFu7wlh4-MfRjctIe0pcBEvZbfjnI7-a6awx3GyYmixa9o0Z5veCPHJLdl1hzP0dNBKgXWURMftq2c1Tv0Z-YTs6lQg/s1685/Rosa_Bonheur_-_Portrait_de_Col._William_F._Cody.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="1685" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigSs1ISbX1g3sc1rkUQxB-bddk3cC4gqz6Btufs4x98GbfyHeRUFu7wlh4-MfRjctIe0pcBEvZbfjnI7-a6awx3GyYmixa9o0Z5veCPHJLdl1hzP0dNBKgXWURMftq2c1Tv0Z-YTs6lQg/w640-h456/Rosa_Bonheur_-_Portrait_de_Col._William_F._Cody.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>Col. William F. Cody (Buffalo Bill)</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, 1889. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rosa_Bonheur_-_Portrait_de_Col._William_F._Cody.jpg">via</a>). Right: Indian Artifacts, Weapons and Pipes, studies by Rosa Bonheur some time after 1841, probably around 1889. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Indian_Artifacts,_Weapons_and_Pipes.jpg">via</a>). <i>Cody's
Wild West show traveled to Paris in 1889 and caused a sensation. To
Bonheur, the Native Americans and American West represented freedom and
individuality. Cody agreed to visit her chateau and sit for this
portrait.</i> <br /></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></i></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Days after Cody visited, a wealthy American stopped by to find out what ever happened to the wild mustang he'd sent from his Wyoming ranch for Bonheur to paint. As a translator he brought with him a young American artist named Anna Klumpke. Bonheur admitted that the mustang had been too wild to paint, so she'd given it to Buffalo Bill. One of the show's cowboys had easily broken the horse and it was performing with the Wild West show. The point of this story is this is how Bonheur met Klumpke, but what stands out to me is that a) the American apparently wasn't angry that she gave away his horse and b) he sent a <i>completely wild mustang </i>by train from Wyoming to NY, then by steamer to London, then to France, then by train to Bonheur outside Paris. That must have taken maybe two-three weeks? Did they send a cowboy with it, or what? When I wanted to take one small house cat overseas a few years ago it took weeks of paperwork, kitty valium and a special plane ticket, and it was still very stressful. That poor horse. No wonder it wasn't in the mood to stand still and be painted.<br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Anyway Klumpke, who was an extremely talented and successful portrait painter, had been a lifelong fan of Bonheur's work (she even had a Rosa Bonheur doll when she was little), but she found Bonheur was too despondent after Micas's death to do any visiting. But the two remained pen pals after Klumpke returned to the US, and when she came back to Paris in 1895 she asked Bonheur if she could visit her to paint her portrait (which would later become quite famous). </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>This time Bonheur took notice and began purposefully delaying the project so Klumpke would stay longer. The two became extremely close despite the large age gap (</span><span><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 150px; top: 844.383px; transform: scaleX(1.04334);"><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 877.85px; top: 1164.38px;"><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 150px; top: 224.383px; transform: scaleX(1.02059);">Bonheur was 77 and Klumpke was 43)</span></span></span>. Bonheur declared her love-- she called the relationship "the divine marriage of two souls," while in letters referring to Klumpke sometimes as "the daughter she never had" and sometimes as her "wife." Bonheur invited Klumpke to sign a contract to cohabitate with her at the Château, to which Klumpke happily agreed. Sadly they only lived together as partners for a year until Bonheur's death in 1899. In her final years Bonheur had been experimenting with pastel and photography.<br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Bonheur was buried beside Nathalie and Madame Micas in Pere Lachaise cemetery in Paris (Klumpke would later be buried with them when she died in the 1940s). Bonheur had arranged her will so that Klumpke would inherit the estate just as if she were a wife (she had also done this with Nathalie). After coming under fire from the rest of the Bonheurs, who were outraged, Klumpke settled the dispute by selling nearly all of Bonheur's paintings, sharing the profits with the Bonheur family, and using her additional inheritance to immediately buy the pieces back. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span><span><span class="reference-text"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH84CeLc9bgrwPopYUDQwdGmr3BW-4ZMcncwXJWvCySVSnRpPs0OWBdDGv7jOWdLvUjMckN6LKeJK4ed0mqaiGOhYgiwfvFqotPIWtpHOyEUSZczcyeurv_l_B9QuZm1Xzdv3610RWxSE/s1600/La_trilla_-_Marie_Rosalie_Bonheur.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="846" data-original-width="1600" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH84CeLc9bgrwPopYUDQwdGmr3BW-4ZMcncwXJWvCySVSnRpPs0OWBdDGv7jOWdLvUjMckN6LKeJK4ed0mqaiGOhYgiwfvFqotPIWtpHOyEUSZczcyeurv_l_B9QuZm1Xzdv3610RWxSE/w640-h338/La_trilla_-_Marie_Rosalie_Bonheur.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span><span class="reference-text"><i>Threshing</i>, by Rosa Bonheur, undated. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:La_trilla_-_Marie_Rosalie_Bonheur.jpg">via</a>). </span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>It is Klumpke who is mainly to thank for Bonheur's legacy, despite Bonheur's fame. She published a volume which was half "autobiography," that is Bonheur's life in her words through Klumpke, and half memoir of her time with Bonheur. Klumpke stayed at the Château, managing the estate and continuing to publicize Bonheur's legacy. By that time the art world had long since moved on to fauvism, cubism and abstract expressionism, and Bonheur's work was held in extremely low regard. By the 1960s nearly no one had heard of Bonheur, despite the enduring popularity of <i>The Horse Fair</i> at the Met, because her work wasn't relevant to the story of Modernism. </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>The run-down Château was recently purchased from Klumpke's family by a woman of surprisingly modest means named Katherine Brault. She remembers visiting the château on a field trip and thinking it was dark and scary; whenever they passed the grounds as children they'd call, <i>"there's the witch's house!" </i>The bronze bull erected by the town of Fontainbleau in Bonheur's memory had been melted down by Nazis so all the kids knew was that Bonheur was "a local woman who painted." </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>Brault has begun the monumental and ongoing task of repairing the château and restoring it to how it was in Bonheur's lifetime. She is amassing a permanent collection for the museum and sorting through the old attics full of Bonheur's abandoned belongings, artwork and ephemera. She has so far made several significant discoveries. Today the Château is <a href="https://www.chateau-rosa-bonheur.fr/">open to visit</a> (and I'd love to go!). Some but not all rooms and wings are finished and open to the public; the grounds are landscaped and lovely, and you can even pay to stay overnight in one of the rooms. <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span>For my own portrait of Rosa Bonheur for Inktober I struggled a bit with the composition. The main thing I wanted to echo from Bonheur's work is her heroic use of wide-open space. But when constructing a portrait on computer-sized paper you can't leave very much negative space if you want the figure to be big enough to include any detail at all. And I wanted to include detail because the other major feature of Bonheur's work I wanted to echo was her Academic precision, the extensive technical groundwork which was the foundation of each of her paintings. This led me to an unusual composition that shows a small section of the face as a finished ink-wash painting while sketching in the rest of the figure as a sort of Academic under-drawing which gives the detailed inset ample room to breathe. Luckily I had quite a few photographs and portraits of Bonheur to use as references. <br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8AGWzLOJowRleLQyChFUIXHbVoe3vd3eNDsBI4eYCXD3AsMz07shBnPFP-OqvNiLY9vDsh18uzc0L4sK54U6MfQfdHBUt6qkeRpZsIiWe_jfgOxXSSxPjeuOPEqdSuWcZvC_nZLaxE_w/s1600/8-rosa+bonheur-SAMPLE.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1058" height="977" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8AGWzLOJowRleLQyChFUIXHbVoe3vd3eNDsBI4eYCXD3AsMz07shBnPFP-OqvNiLY9vDsh18uzc0L4sK54U6MfQfdHBUt6qkeRpZsIiWe_jfgOxXSSxPjeuOPEqdSuWcZvC_nZLaxE_w/w647-h977/8-rosa+bonheur-SAMPLE.jpeg" width="647" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Portrait of Rosa Bonheur by Ciana Pullen (me), 2020 Inktober project. Ink wash. <br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="color: #a64d79;"><span><span class="reference-text"></span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span class="reference-text"> </span></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span class="reference-text">Note: I used many sources for this, many of which contradicted each other. What I have to offer is not some authoritative answer to which are correct-- though I did quite a bit of detective work to discern, I'm just a person on the internet, not a proper researcher. Rather, I offer context to place Bonheur's work within art history and the world around her, discussion of the art itself, and connections between Bonheur and the male artists who were her contemporaries. I find that context and those connections largely missing from most posts about female artists. Bonheur is no exception; bloggers and journalists understandably focus on her personal life and fame but can give the impression that she lived in a lesbian vacuum. Several thorough biographies have recently been published (which I have not yet read) and exhibits organized, which together with the new museum in Bonheur's Château means the Internet is now full of information on Bonheur, disjointed as it is. But I found these sources especially useful: <a href="https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v42/n21/tom-stammers/twenty-kicks-in-the-backside">London Book Review</a>, <a href="https://centerofthewest.org/2020/06/19/points-west-out-west-rosa-bonheur-oscar-wilde/">Center of the West</a>, <a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/redemption-rosa-bonheur-french-artist-180976027/">Smithsonian Magazine</a>, and <a href=" https://hyperallergic.com/437985/the-portrait-that-forged-a-divine-marriage-between-two-19th-century-women-painters/ ">Hyperallergic</a>. </span></span><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 150px; top: 844.383px; transform: scaleX(1.04334);"><span face="sans-serif" style="left: 877.85px; top: 1164.38px;"> </span></span><br /></span></div><span style="color: #a64d79; font-size: medium;"><span><span class="reference-text"></span></span></span>Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-54520210067937082582020-11-23T17:20:00.004-05:002020-11-23T18:01:44.514-05:00What the heck is "The Académie?"<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> "<i>The Académie</i>" sounds, to me, like a graphic novel about a school for angsty mutant artists run by an eccentric megalomaniac, but in fact it was the elite institution that controlled art and good taste in France during the 1700s and 1800s. It replaced the Italian Baroque apprentice/guild systems of the 1500s- 1600s and was eventually abandoned in the early 1900s with the advent of modern art. The Académie produced juried exhibitions called "Salons" which held the key to fame and commissions (and scandal). Other European countries modeled their Academic systems on that of France as well. When people say, "Academic style," they mean clean-lined, idealistic (a bit staged), slightly grandiose, and shaded with soft rich shadows. In reality, though, several styles flourished in the Académie at any given time, but the Académie's famous ideological battles are why everyone thinks of Ingres and David. Eventually with the rise of Impressionism, cubism and Dada, no one looked to the Académie any longer as the leaders in art or good taste. <br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWKHiK_npwTQkfja7Ga3BhBIQW5rcSs6U-wpeJecGNDsD38YX85V8GDSEw9JwmeLoINxahGumsa0UnWs01Ei1zEfDFlzHpAXuBUNaJNanXNinG7VSrllbu9A0_3RcYUIZexBhkM3wfK6w/s1770/academic-style-timeline.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="1770" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWKHiK_npwTQkfja7Ga3BhBIQW5rcSs6U-wpeJecGNDsD38YX85V8GDSEw9JwmeLoINxahGumsa0UnWs01Ei1zEfDFlzHpAXuBUNaJNanXNinG7VSrllbu9A0_3RcYUIZexBhkM3wfK6w/w640-h434/academic-style-timeline.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;">There were academies all over Europe since at least Renaissance times, but before it became a "system" in the 1700s most artists were involved in the guild system of the Baroque era. </span><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The Old Guild System </b></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Guilds and trade unions engaged in rigorous gatekeeping, both for training and for running a business. Today we might wonder why a painter would even need a guild; after all if you really wanted to you could just put up an easel in the corner of your living room, buy some paints and how-to books, and print up some business cards. But that's all thanks to the Industrial Revolution which changed painting in the late 1800s.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Before that artists were stuck in the studio creating every paint color from scratch with pigments that came from dirt, plants, animals and rocks. Perfecting the texture with binding agents an solvents. Building wooden canvases and other supports, preparing the surface, varnishing the finished pieces. Once an artist found a good paint recipe they kept it secret, only telling their assistants. That's why certain Baroque artists were famous for signature colors, like Titian for his copper-haired muses. An artist might also hoard a secret technique. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHZNwZ9jTwtRC9hJay19zrtnXI1kewRWqqO97RV-akVA4srIkt0H4Cpxd3cTotwJIzVjl1locUI6RB2r34SeI1kCM_nnR6CuFNH0N6lUbXVJqaFXsFY07SVI2fVhZ09LilMLouGAx66bU/s606/Rosa+Bonheurs+Paints+via+Smithsonian.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="420" data-original-width="606" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHZNwZ9jTwtRC9hJay19zrtnXI1kewRWqqO97RV-akVA4srIkt0H4Cpxd3cTotwJIzVjl1locUI6RB2r34SeI1kCM_nnR6CuFNH0N6lUbXVJqaFXsFY07SVI2fVhZ09LilMLouGAx66bU/w400-h278/Rosa+Bonheurs+Paints+via+Smithsonian.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Some of Rosa Bonheur's supplies as she left them in the 1890s (image <a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/redemption-rosa-bonheur-french-artist-180976027/">via</a>). <i>You
can see the mix of modern paint tubes which came about after the
Industrial Revolution in the late 1800s, as well as more traditional
bottles of pigments, solvents and binders. I can see at least four types
of yellow pigment here; some were common while others were quite rare.
Pigments might have different physical properties like opacity or mix
well with one type of red vs another, for example. That's why an artist
needed more than red, yellow and blue, which is why today the shades
still have names like "cadmium red," "alizarin crimson" "scarlet lake"
and "rose madder." They aren't merely poetic, and those shades today can
contain the real pigments or synthetic versions, but are still used in
the same way. One type of yellow, "gamboge," comes from a tree in
Southeast Asia and its availability varied according to shortages caused
by faraway wars. This makes it possible to reliably date a painting
based on its use (I learned that from </i>Elementary<i>, thanks Moriarty).
Large doses can also be fatal (many paint pigments are poisonous), which
is why van Gogh tried to eat yellow paint while mentally unwell. Each
pigment has a very particular backstory and would be an interesting way
to approach studying history. </i><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;">And these artists didn't do it all by themselves. A studio required staff, so they took trainees under their wing. Some of them were apprentices and protegées who would eventually inherit the studio or set up their own; a protegée was meant to carry on the reputation of a master artist, not to compete. An artist's wife and family members might also assist or paint parts of the image, uncredited. <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">All of this cost money, like opening a new restaurant would nowadays. It was a full-time job (with taxes to pay) so the studio needed patrons such as wealthy clergy and nobility, perhaps a successful merchant. Even if the studio was part of a convent staffed entirely by artist-nuns (and that did happen), they still had to get the permission and financial backing from religious higher-ups. Then there were expensive props and supplies, models to pay. Some artists even showcased how much money they were spending (i.e. showing off the wealth of the client) by making paint colors from semiprecious stones, like blue from lapis lazuli. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">An artist also had to be a terrific sales-person and networker. Back then artists were regarded as skilled craftsmen, like carpenters. But due to their efforts artists were just beginning to be seen as creative intellectuals who could be both respected and allowed to hob-nob and even marry into elite social circles. This would pave the way for the caché of the Académie in the 1700s.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Artists formed guilds or unions to protect business where aspiring artists had to be elected to membership and then pay dues. Most of these guilds denied membership to all women and Jews, with some exceptions-- usually women who had inherited a studio. Women could also be kicked out of guilds (and even punished by authorities in some places) if they studied or painted nudes, which was a major impediment to figurative work (and the highest paid, most respected commissions). This continued long into the Academic era. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Guilds formalized the apprenticeship process. Apprenticeship was also frequently denied to women, or it was so disreputable and vulnerable to predators that women could not safely participate. (Despite this there were a shocking number of women artists in Baroque times, working in all styles and financially successful.) After apprenticeship, when a painter was ready to apply to the guild they created the best painting they possibly could to show they had mastered painting; this was submission was called a "masterpiece." Which, of course, is where the modern term comes from. <br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOkP2NYyqxfa9NBl02SxGEH2wlClKfFMPgJH83nlFoCyyztM2Qcrozd8ltypXh9UwWJzRy6FYtyU0jYJyOzG-9fW-BMJs3epdvjY8snMOh4CyoBN8hztZn8UOheaoF5goch_S7VhADw1E/s940/painstud.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="940" data-original-width="867" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOkP2NYyqxfa9NBl02SxGEH2wlClKfFMPgJH83nlFoCyyztM2Qcrozd8ltypXh9UwWJzRy6FYtyU0jYJyOzG-9fW-BMJs3epdvjY8snMOh4CyoBN8hztZn8UOheaoF5goch_S7VhADw1E/w369-h400/painstud.jpg" width="369" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>The Painter in his Studio, </i>by Adriaen Jansz van Ostade, 1663. (image <a href="http://www.baroque.us/painting/ostade/painstud.html">via</a>) <i>Think about how much this would cost in 1663. Big windows, lots of space (enough for an entire family), supplies, props, references (books were luxuries)</i>. <br /></span>
</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;">It's only natural, then, that most studios also functioned as schools. Multiple apprentices would apply year after year. To supplement income many artists would also give drawing lessons to people like craftsmen, scientists and wealthy young ladies. Schools and city-states each developed their own styles and practices, so today we still say "the [x] school" when referring to a particular style.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The Académie </b></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Schools eventually evolved into state-run academies. This gave the nobility more centralized involvement in what had previously been a piecemeal system by artists for artists. Art instructors leveraged this involvement to access high society, Enlightenment resources such as libraries and expert lecturers on philosophy and anatomy, and a certain high-minded caché. They secured sponsorship to send their most promising students abroad to study the old masters in Rome (the legendary and coveted Prix de Rome) and in Amsterdam. Whereas an old-fashioned apprentice was considered a craftsman and a businessman, someone trained at an academy was considered an intellectual gentleman.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">King Louis XIV (the "Sun King" who established Versailles) organized the Académie des beaux-arts in Paris in the 1660s as part of his larger effort make France internationally famous for luxury goods. Paris was considered a cultural backwater at the time compared to Rome or Madrid, but by the late 1700s foreign students were traveling to Paris to learn, a phenomenon which would peak in the 1850s-1930s. <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The Academic curriculum was highly structured. Prospective students had to first pass a difficult entrance exam. Then those who were admitted set about learning to draw (not paint). They were given old drawings and etchings of paintings to copy, then if the teacher approved they moved on to sketching plaster busts and sculptures. With the teacher's approval male students would then move on to figure drawing class with live models. They considered painting secondary to drawing as interior decorating is to architecture, so it was only toward the end of the program or post-graduate that students learned painting by copying works at the Louvre and assisting older artists. Students didn't have much wiggle room in terms of style and content. </span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDdR8HwS8B-ksIZ1k4m6OLHRZKPGr3ZUN36CfGspva2nniDCwEBq2EIjpimAlyX26K12ipfCcStjrL6IKqmqmL-rkGIY7397fg4ND8zVUib_gxfJOAbcqU9DYWC7q2sxnRjdFXQ7QCUyU/s1184/slade.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="803" data-original-width="1184" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDdR8HwS8B-ksIZ1k4m6OLHRZKPGr3ZUN36CfGspva2nniDCwEBq2EIjpimAlyX26K12ipfCcStjrL6IKqmqmL-rkGIY7397fg4ND8zVUib_gxfJOAbcqU9DYWC7q2sxnRjdFXQ7QCUyU/w640-h434/slade.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>An illustration c. 1880 of students drawing from plaster sculptures </i><span>(image <a href="http://www.fulltable.com/VTS/s/sc/scc.htm">via</a>)</span><i>. This was likely after Académie Colarossi in Paris finally opened its doors to female students in the Belle Epoque and women came pouring in from foreign countries to study. Some Academies in other nations followed suit. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The Académie also served as gatekeeper for professional success. They hosted juried Salons in which the accepted paintings were shown at the aristocratic social event of the season. Anyone could submit paintings, not just Academic students. Paintings were crammed together on the walls all the way up to the ceiling, so the Academic juries also controlled who got top billing by placing their favorite painters' work at eye level. Those who did well in Salons were almost guaranteed a good career. Being critically panned was a disaster. The Académie also offered assistance to working professionals such as studio space, research materials, travel funds, artistic community and access to powerful clientele; and of course cushy teaching positions. A professional artist could ultimately be elected into Academic membership, to become one of the celebrated gatekeepers who juried Salons and the like. While it was possible to make money and achieve fame outside the Academic System, it was certainly more difficult.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">However many artists in the 1700s and 1800s still studied with individual professionals rather than at the Academies. Many simply could not afford Academic tuition or had not been accepted; women were usually barred from formal study. Others still preferred the art style of the individual with whom they trained or preferred the one-on-one style of teaching. Many artists mixed the two, obtaining training first from a middling local professional, then apprenticing to a more renowned artist, then taking courses at the academies, and then perhaps even studying with another artist after that. Thus many professional artists were also prolific teachers; in the 1700s nearly everyone seemed to study under someone who studied under Fragonard; in the 1800s all roads led back to David, Delacroix and Ingres (and to Rosa Bonheur for women). Most of the women I'm profiling for my Inktober project learned this way. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="reference-text"><span><span class="reference-text"><span><b>Allegory and Idealization</b></span><br /></span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="reference-text"><span><span class="reference-text">Simply put, allegory is when you paint a hot lady with a paintbrush and say, "this is a picture of The Arts." Allegory is similar to a symbol, but the way the Académie used it it almost always boiled down to a pretty woman who represented Peace, Painting, The Nation or some other abstract concept, though sometimes it was a horse that represented War or a hooded skeleton that represented Death. The system was based on the concept of Platonic ideals. </span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="reference-text">Plato wrote that the
ideal is the ultimate imaginary form of something on which all inherently flawed real-life versions are built. Platonic spaghetti, for instance, is that perfect <i>ideal</i> spaghetti in your mind; the real spaghetti you cook will never live up to it. Therefore in
Academic art, when they show a woman holding a paintbrush meant to represent the Platonic ideal of Painting, she isn't a realistic warts-and-all portrayal. She is the most idealized and generic woman possible, holding the most generic possible paintbrush; bonus points if her clothes are from an unspecific era or Greek, her pose is unrealistic or even defying physics, and her environment is stagey or anachronistic. The whole point is that she <i>isn't</i> a realistic individual in the real world. The more flawless the woman, the more flawless the concept. Furthermore the 18th century viewer would know that she is the allegory of Painting because of her gold chain, green clothes and black hair; such details of each common allegory had been standardized since Baroque times, though artists didn't always include every detail by the book. The artist and viewer were expected to have a thorough education in allegorical conventions as well as mythology, history and art history. Allegorical art (usually history painting) was intellectual art for smart people. <br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="reference-text">Nowadays we'd see an Academic allegorical portrayal and ask, "whoa, why is her spine like that?" or "why isn't she gripping the brush tightly enough to actually hold it," or "why is her boob hanging out?" These unrealistic things were all meant to clue the viewer in to the fact that she's an allegory, not a real lady. The flawlessness of the woman's beauty can also throw us for a loop because beauty standards then were very different from today, and even then they varied by time and place. They might vary still more depending on whether the artist's patron preferred a particular type of body. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="reference-text">Artists might also refer to ancient Greek ideals of beauty, which followed a mathematic formula right down to the length and width of the toes. The ancient Greeks were usually sculpting gods and goddesses, so they used "perfect physical beauty" to convey the idea of the supernatural. Nor was any ancient Greek goddess just a slip of a thing, physically; the Goddess was meant to be powerful and plentiful and her body reflected that in skeletal breadth and fleshiness. Those ideas certainly affected the Academic practice of allegory. While in 18th and 19th century portraiture you often see dainty women with impossibly dainty rib cages and big bobble heads, in history painting the allegorical women usually adhered more closely to Greek standards. <br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="reference-text">Despite these high-minded ideas, art was still a business that was subject to the waxing and waning of fashions. The flawless allegorical woman naturally blended with the more earthbound requests of patrons and nobility, resulting in so countless portrayals of Venus and allegories of Vanity or Beauty who looked suspiciously like someone's naked mistress. By 1790 Versailles looked like it had an unchecked infestation of cherubs. Idealism became a pervasive element of Academic art no matter the subject; they just felt it made a better painting. Ingres, for example, was disgusted by anatomy (even though he was more than capable of painting anatomically realistic figures); he preferred to paint stylized people. </span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3TEVDDAmioOoXrdOEenPQ6w_XQ0ojoE4SXKkMB4o3Q9wedY-yRqMlOyER93vflOzHCGy9mxzOQ7D5ECnq1doz0H-Y82LjOzeJpeiV_mSlr9VJXI_1Du92Mt52bJbqEakrGhPyPmtxmYo/s281/This_Year_Venuses_Again_%2528Daumier%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="281" data-original-width="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3TEVDDAmioOoXrdOEenPQ6w_XQ0ojoE4SXKkMB4o3Q9wedY-yRqMlOyER93vflOzHCGy9mxzOQ7D5ECnq1doz0H-Y82LjOzeJpeiV_mSlr9VJXI_1Du92Mt52bJbqEakrGhPyPmtxmYo/s0/This_Year_Venuses_Again_%2528Daumier%2529.jpg" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>"This Year Venuses Again... Always Venuses!" </i>a cartoon by Honoré Daumier, 1864, depicting two annoyed ladies at a Salon exhibit. (image <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:This_Year_Venuses_Again_(Daumier).jpg">via</a>).<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="reference-text">The opposite of idealism was called "realism." Nowadays most people use the term to mean something looks photo-realistic, but in most of art history it means not idealizing things. Realists painted real people, warts and all, doing real things in the real world. The Impressionists, for example, were realists, showing normal people doing everyday things with no allegorical pretense at all-- a person rowing a boat was just that. Other realists included social agendas, creating unflinching looks at poverty, suffering and the uglier side of life, while others swore allegiance to modernity. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="reference-text">Degas, for instance, was a promising young student in the Academic style who won the Prix de Rome and then decided he wanted to find "the movement of the Greeks" in the modern world instead of in history painting. Manet was another realist whose famous <i>Olympia</i> was extremely shocking-- not because she was more naked or sexy than Academic nudes (she was actually posed less overtly than many arch-backed Venuses of the time), but because she was too <i>realistic</i>. She was short with realistic proportions, wearing a modern necklace, and looking the viewer dead in the eye instead of existing in some fantasy land where she can't see you. <br /></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlKM9AnlwpuPP996dN38PA3lsEHZWuNbSsnK3mjHccMTZjGvBrIWJDkz6DzRCA59hH4L-lkK_crlA0sVFsRZf_bYyS1o-expKNtdC07XkDCKtB2GY3fYJLGClfTOATC07MCp8WSsYnKrg/s1599/Alexandre_Cabanel_-_The_Birth_of_Venus_-_Google_Art_Project_2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="908" data-original-width="1599" height="364" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlKM9AnlwpuPP996dN38PA3lsEHZWuNbSsnK3mjHccMTZjGvBrIWJDkz6DzRCA59hH4L-lkK_crlA0sVFsRZf_bYyS1o-expKNtdC07XkDCKtB2GY3fYJLGClfTOATC07MCp8WSsYnKrg/w640-h364/Alexandre_Cabanel_-_The_Birth_of_Venus_-_Google_Art_Project_2.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>The Birth of Venus</i>, by Alexandre Cabanel, 1863. (image via). <i>This is idealized Academic style: no visible brushstrokes, a physically impossible scenario (reclining on water, flying babies), mythological characters, a stagey artificial composition, a classically proportioned woman lit by soft directional studio lighting, and a vague allusion to the Renaissance masters. They were really into tall women back then with long fleshy limbs, breasts shaped like meringues and slightly small heads for their bodies. Characters in Jane Austen novels (1810s) always felt bad about themselves because they weren't tall enough. </i><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaDskBmXoAVySr7t29WZB9N8WqC17tE5Fe59yox7ZnfblzcJEXcoR-clzci2rVsuVAMTmRRsLBYpj-ctzs9y1XO7hsnCRHb5lks1IhLs9hBmTebslDEw_HRe8-bvTveGR_dTPzgi6nRAg/s1599/1599px-Edouard_Manet_-_Olympia_-_Google_Art_ProjectFXD.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1082" data-original-width="1599" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaDskBmXoAVySr7t29WZB9N8WqC17tE5Fe59yox7ZnfblzcJEXcoR-clzci2rVsuVAMTmRRsLBYpj-ctzs9y1XO7hsnCRHb5lks1IhLs9hBmTebslDEw_HRe8-bvTveGR_dTPzgi6nRAg/w640-h432/1599px-Edouard_Manet_-_Olympia_-_Google_Art_ProjectFXD.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div><p><i>Olympia</i>, by Édouard Manet, 1863. (image <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Edouard_Manet_-_Olympia_-_Google_Art_ProjectFXD.jpg">via</a>). <i>This is realist, not Academic style or idealized. She's probably meant to be a prostitute (the black cat and accessories would have tipped off Victorian viewers; "Olympia" was also a common pseudonym for prostitutes to use as well as being an insolent reference to the Academic obsession with Greek mythology). This painting was famously shocking. People usually attribute that to her being a prostitute, but that isn't true. If she'd been a Mary Magdalene or a character from classical Greek mythology or ancient history who was prostitute or mistress, that would've been totally fine. If she'd had the standard classical body shape, softly shaded from one direction like studio lighting, fainting away or gazing into a mirror, even looking over one shoulder at the viewer so as to passively beckon him into her fantasy world, it also would've been fine. The problem was her realism and modernity. She's short with teardrop breasts and a wide Parisian face, demonstrating that the Academic ideal has no power to define "beauty." She's in modern Paris, where Black people exist just because (in Academic art they never painted Black people without a narrative reason, like being one of the Three Kings of Orient visiting Jesus, or as part of the mise-en-scène to place Cleopatra in ancient Egypt, or to allegorically represent Africa; Black people didn't just randomly show up, living their lives). To underscore the departure from tradition, Manet used a lighting style that created an outline effect, which criticized even the hallowed drawing methods of the Académie</i>. <i>Manet and his Olympia both made the Victorian gentleman viewer feel inadequate: she intimidated instead of putting on a coquettish show, confronting the viewer/john with sex like "I don't have all day," while Manet made the viewer feel inadequate by rendering all his fine traditions and allegorical knowledge irrelevant, trampling all over the boundaries of his comfort zone of "once upon a time." </i><i> </i></p></div></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span class="reference-text">When
we see artistic details that challenged Academic tradition, it can be
hard not to think "yeah but... it's just a shadow? So what, why were they losing their minds?" But when you remember the history of the Académie it's easier to
understand why these things were truly threatening. Artists used the
Académie to social climb from craftsmen to gentleman-intellectuals,
while nobility used the Académie to control the arts. It upheld a
classist society and created an identity that placed modernity neatly
into history, with noble purpose and a common goal. Breaking with tradition was an
upset to elitism, monarchy and tradition. Nowadays we see I</span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span class="reference-text"><span><span><span class="reference-text">mpressionism as prosaic, but back then
it posed a nihilistic threat</span></span></span>.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Color vs. Line </b></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Since the
Académie was in charge of art it became the obvious battleground for
defining art and determining its future. There were two big ideological
camps: the poussinistes (fans of Poussin) versus the rubenistes (fans of
Rubens), which in the 1800s evolved into the Neoclassicists versus
the Romantics. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The Poussinistes and Neoclassicists esteemed
drawing, line and form over color. They wanted to create figures so
beautifully shaded and crisply defined that they could be statues ready
to be plucked right off the canvas. Their figures had weight, balance
and completion, often at the expense of implied movement. This stiff,
highly finished style naturally lent itself to the calm rational ideals
of Neoclassicism. Color was also an afterthought, and it belonged
within the lines of the form. Color was best in one simple tone shaded
from light to dark. If you've ever seen old black and white photos that
have been hand-colored, poussiniste paintings had that quality. "Line"
usually meant crisp edge, "form" meant smooth shading. Examples of poussinistes were David and Ingres. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjskem97PH7lMnAoPTaGEV4CycAZ_awFLGQ48qTt2_IAUVEk3nIC98kU2GbmbFSi87h3CccTXHiuumAPfEm8G8CMb7EkKbwJ2YnLPrLuleJogpRlr4bZi_KvBeSRNu4Te3msshIQCqrgbw/s1198/Jean-Auguste-Dominique_Ingres_-_Oedipus_and_the_Sphinx_-_Walters_379.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="1000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjskem97PH7lMnAoPTaGEV4CycAZ_awFLGQ48qTt2_IAUVEk3nIC98kU2GbmbFSi87h3CccTXHiuumAPfEm8G8CMb7EkKbwJ2YnLPrLuleJogpRlr4bZi_KvBeSRNu4Te3msshIQCqrgbw/w534-h640/Jean-Auguste-Dominique_Ingres_-_Oedipus_and_the_Sphinx_-_Walters_379.jpg" width="534" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>My Eyes Are Up Here,</i> by Jean-Auguste Dominique Ingres. Just kidding! This is called <i>Oedipus and the Sphinx</i>, 1864. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Jean-Auguste-Dominique_Ingres_-_Oedipus_and_the_Sphinx_-_Walters_379.jpg">via</a>). <i>You
can see the even weight distribution and musculature, small head and
statuesque profile typical of Greek-inspired Academic figures. Ingres
often played fast and loose with anatomy to make figures more idealized,
but this example is fairly natural looking. Notice also that the
background looks flat like a stage set. You can tell from the shadows
that Oedipus was drawn in the studio and then placed outdoors, a common
Academic practice. They knew </i>how<i> to paint people under different
lighting conditions, because the Dutch and Flemish masters of the 1600s
had had a field day with lighting effects. But the soft full shading of
the studio was part of the idealization process. Remember, drawing came
before painting. Concept came before reality. Notice also how Oedipus's skin is just light and dark shades of tan and the rocks are light and dark ochre. Form came first, color second. Ingres hated the work of Rubens. </i><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The
Rubenistes, meanwhile, valued color, expressive brushwork, and movement.
They wanted dancers to really look like they were dancing and clouds to
really look like they were sparkling, so they sacrificed crisp edges
and finished brushwork for expressive movement and complex blending of
colors. This style naturally lent itself to the whimsical Rococo era,
and then to the intense emotions and violent passions of the later
Romantics. Examples of Rubenistes included Fragonard and Vigée Le Brun;
Romantics included Delacroix and Courbet. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQ23dl9Yk4RYCd-XdNSh84V0FREwgbFVPl9jyWzdBB585MOCkJ1Jp8OUuX8eLiAgCRRcb_l-XfDn1PQ8bH2mwSV_sUoDLEbM20wRMfdOoAlC6oIehWXEShES_CE3IU5pHgwVgBaqDvPE/s1514/1514px-Euge%25CC%2580ne_Delacroix_-_La_liberte%25CC%2581_guidant_le_peuple.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="1514" height="506" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQ23dl9Yk4RYCd-XdNSh84V0FREwgbFVPl9jyWzdBB585MOCkJ1Jp8OUuX8eLiAgCRRcb_l-XfDn1PQ8bH2mwSV_sUoDLEbM20wRMfdOoAlC6oIehWXEShES_CE3IU5pHgwVgBaqDvPE/w640-h506/1514px-Euge%25CC%2580ne_Delacroix_-_La_liberte%25CC%2581_guidant_le_peuple.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Liberty Leading the People,</i> by Eugène Delacroix, 1830. (image <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Eug%C3%A8ne_Delacroix_-_La_libert%C3%A9_guidant_le_peuple.jpg">via</a>). <i>This history painting is unusual for the Académie in that the event was so recent (the French Revolution forty years prior) and the corpses and civilians are unusually realist; their clothes are near-contemporary and they are more awkward than idealized in death. However his Liberty provides an excellent example of allegory. She's timeless, sculpturally beautiful, and dressed unrealistically. The brushwork has been kept loose, especially in the clouds of smoke but also in the folds of the fabric. The child is silhouetted but not sharply outlined. No one's body is particularly well lit or well composed from head to toe, but the composition taken all together creates the impression of excitement, adrenaline and forward movement. This composition, while not especially colorful, shows how colors are more complex, composed of layers of contrasting shades (the blue and orange smoke especially) that help the color come alive.</i><br /></span></p></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The line vs. color
debate also took the form of claiming that drawing was superior to
painting, that drawing was an intellectual exercise while painting was
more craftsmanlike and superficial. The painting side pointed out how empty a painting would be without any emotional response and that color and brushwork instinctively stirred emotion. They also believed it could allow more people to enjoy art, not only the educated and intellectually inclined. The drawing side
seemed to get the upper hand, though. This helps to explain why, when
the painterly Impressionists came along who cared more about the
placement and color of a hay bale than about the yearnings of anyone's
soul, they managed to enrage both sides. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Another lively debate
was between those who learned from nature versus those who learned from
older paintings. The Nature side eventually was fullfilled by the
Barbizon school beginning in the early-mid 1800s. They were among the
first plein aire painters (i.e. they painted outdoors, or sketched
outdoors and finished up in the studio). They often kept colors fresh
and brushstrokes loose, but were far more restrained than the later
Impressionists. They usually painted landscapes but often depicted
people in rural genre scenes as well. Rarely did they venture into
history painting but they created heroic rural scenes that were
monumental in novel ways, usually to great acclaim. The Barbizon school
were respected and accepted but weren't part of the Académie. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Of course not everyone took a side; many brave souls even spoke up to point out that most great art involves both line <i>and</i>
color. Many artists took inspiration from both sides, the best example
being Bouguereau, the last great superstar of the Academic era. <br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQOzEOxoBWBgDECgkYLhPsUhwp1BkB1BDu16krU3Is7xcUOzOnaNSXpQNaiN2xkS5mRJt8Wx5NHfHJZLB5X5fj0DU8DiqrlFWrTD5hCsMRZOJyVL5UZW69Ydqs-o5K65zmaWiIjBlTbh8/s1196/666px-Psycheabduct.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="666" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQOzEOxoBWBgDECgkYLhPsUhwp1BkB1BDu16krU3Is7xcUOzOnaNSXpQNaiN2xkS5mRJt8Wx5NHfHJZLB5X5fj0DU8DiqrlFWrTD5hCsMRZOJyVL5UZW69Ydqs-o5K65zmaWiIjBlTbh8/w356-h640/666px-Psycheabduct.jpg" width="356" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Psyche, by William-Adolphe Bouguereau, 1895. (image <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Psycheabduct.jpg">via</a>). <i>Bouguereau said line and color were the same thing. He used crisp
outlines and full shading but also complex colors which seemed to
sparkle. The skin here isn't just light and dark tan, the purple isn't flat. He blended his brushstrokes to create impeccable detail for
every feather and ruffle, but allowed his painterliness to show through,
using airy landscapes and flowing fabrics to create movement. He also
took the best of what the Barbizon school had to offer; his outdoor
figures really look like they're bathed in natural light (though this particular painting doesn't show his best lighting effects). He was one
hell of an incredible painter with a natural sophistication and ease to
his style; unfortunately his subject-matter was a cautionary tale of
what happens when you blend empty eroticism with saccharine
pretentiousness. Still, like Christopher Nolan movies or the British Royal Family,
it isn't so much the content of Bouguereau's work that annoys me so much as its fans. Ugh, Victorians. </i></span> </p></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The Genre Hierarchy </b></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The
final weird and wonderful thing you need to know about Academic art is
that they ranked the genres from best to worst, smart to stupid. History
painting was best, then genre painting, then portraiture, then
landscape, then still life. History paintings were sometimes monumental and could be ancient Greek
scenes (real or mythological), Biblical scenes, ancient events or
allegorical depictions of ideas (so, an image of Peace doting on France
or Sculpture inspiring a sculptor would count as history painting). It
was the most respected and well-payed. 'Genre painting,' by the way, means slice of life scenes. It could be a shepherdess in a field, lovers flirting by a fence, a maid carrying a jug, nuns nursing the sick. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0fSr6PesV8TTXJyKjiVg6oRaXFnjjhx92yWZOF3hv-a1abKdtPZBSPE1t2J7Gx4ZqnfX-uML0WKHzdvPzx36OGYcIFGJaaeSCRegUEAim4j57yXXyU2BCbWubQqLvNV6Bz13tSdiL4Ms/s1600/F0440_Louvre_JL_David_Sabines_INV3691_rwk.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0fSr6PesV8TTXJyKjiVg6oRaXFnjjhx92yWZOF3hv-a1abKdtPZBSPE1t2J7Gx4ZqnfX-uML0WKHzdvPzx36OGYcIFGJaaeSCRegUEAim4j57yXXyU2BCbWubQqLvNV6Bz13tSdiL4Ms/w640-h480/F0440_Louvre_JL_David_Sabines_INV3691_rwk.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>The Intervention of the Sabine Women</i>, by Jacques-Louis David, 1798 (image <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:F0440_Louvre_JL_David_Sabines_INV3691_rwk.jpg">via</a>). <i>While some history paintings were relatively simple, many others (like this one) were monumental paintings with complex compositions and lots of drama. This depicts a chaotic event in Roman mythology when two neighboring cities are at war and the women, caught in the middle between fathers and husbands, beg the men to stop fighting. David painted this as an obvious call for France's people to come together when regimes changed violently after the Revolution. History paintings often were masked commentary on current events. David had previously tried to create a non-ancient history painting of current events as they unfolded (the beginning of the French Revolution), but by the time he got halfway done the situation had completely reversed itself. That's partially why painters so often used ancient history as commentary on current events. It also helped them avoid too much backlash; they could always claim, at the end of the day, that it had nothing to do with current politics. Here you can see that each figure is fully posed and beautifully lit; each could stand alone as its own painting. David has arranged them in a line like figures in an ancient Roman frieze. David was a Neoclassicist and the drama in this painting comes from its crisply delineated poses and intellectual references rather than expressive brushwork or complex color. </i><br /></span></p></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Women were typically
discouraged from history painting specifically, not only because they weren't
supposed to study anatomy (but they often did anyway) but because it was
considered presumptuous for a woman to teach an intellectual lesson and
unfeminine to be so ambitious. Some women did it anyway of course but they
more often found willing clients in portraiture and still life, thus
creating a cycle of disrespect, wherein the genre was respected less
because it was practiced by ladies, and was practiced by ladies because
it was less respected. Women sometimes broke the glass ceiling through
sheer audacity and talent, but more often they found a way to do genre
painting and history painting by focusing on maternal and moralistic
themes-- winning support by "staying in their lane" where they could
realize ambitious projects but still find willing patrons. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Legacy </b></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="reference-text">Nowadays we expect realism in art and media, but we still use the Academic tradition of the Platonic Ideal as expressed via heavy fantasy. Perfume ads, for example, use impossibly beautiful people in timeless fantasy scenarios to express the abstract idea of scent. Conceptual allegory, meanwhile, has become the purview of political cartoonists. They usually label the concept that the figure represents (like a clown car labeled "Trump's Approach to the Refugee Crisis" with the emergent clowns labeled "Private Prison Industry," "GOP Re-election Strategy" and "The NRA.") But we don't need labels for common modern allegorical figures; we recognize 'Patriotism,' 'the Democratic Party,' 'Old-Fashioned Ideals of Femininity' and 'the Mainstream Media,' among many others. Meanwhile memes that replicate the same group of figures with ever-changing labels like "my brain" vs "my ability to manage my time" could be considered an incredibly lazy modern version of Academic allegory; they get popular when they hit on an abstract universal feeling in a novel way and manage to express some otherwise embarrassing, forbidden or peculiar concepts. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="reference-text">After the advent of modernism, Academic style fell ever further into disrepute. Critics lined up to devalue it and antiestablishmentarians like the Dadaists held it in contempt. However avant-garde artists still took inspiration from Academic art. Many of the leading modernists of the 1910s and 20s had themselves studied in the Academic system. Countless modernists were inspired by Ingres. Abstract artists admired his flattening of the picture plane while surrealists admired his eerie and erotic stylization. Delacroix and Courbet continued to inspire. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="reference-text">In the 1950s mega-critic Clement Greenberg declared all Academic painting to be kitsch (<i>gasp</i>!). But it's making a comeback in roundabout ways. Academic drawing and painting techniques are becoming popular again, visually dazzling a public which has spent the last century secretly resenting abstract art. Other contemporary painters still use allegory but there's no central standard; in today's multicultural, pluralistic world everyone is expected to invent it on their own using unusual symbols loaded with personal significance like they're Joseph freaking Beuys. On one had that's nice because it isn't so rigid and it opens space for discovery, but on the other it can be baffling as a viewer. Artists will say things in interviews like, <i>"oh yes, I became fascinated by the character of the clown who is turned into a two-headed ox from [obscure Italian opera] so I used him to explore the way we recontextualize post-Colonialism through the lens of modern Dutch genderqueer identity."</i> Which is... interesting but I <i>never</i> would have figured that out just from looking at the painting. I don't want to return to the era of Academic rigidity, but it would be nice sometimes to understand without reading the long text on the wall. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span class="reference-text"><br /></span></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="reference-text"><br /></span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p>Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-7650791395053722232020-11-17T17:35:00.007-05:002020-11-23T17:51:08.458-05:00Inktober Day 7: Sonia Delaunay<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span></span>By the time young Sonia Delaunay arrived in Paris from St. Petersburg in 1905 she was already obsessed with color and she would remain so for the rest of her life. Her brief study of classical art in Montparnasse only encouraged her to break the rules, and it was then that she made the leap to Fauvism. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLyPo2ri2Qvp2qmE3Frri-jLy0IxeZQzMgCgoVKrmth3K01XC4axd0Vp5MsZVjS0zRRv0XBzvUNC38R7JPv7ZSipv-QI4fJ8lXtLAZjlv1TUhBX3EizYu4qXWnvrNrGfzAs4LseQt7Ruk/s549/2bd5bea02ccff8af1f6a0d8120eccd4c.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="549" height="560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLyPo2ri2Qvp2qmE3Frri-jLy0IxeZQzMgCgoVKrmth3K01XC4axd0Vp5MsZVjS0zRRv0XBzvUNC38R7JPv7ZSipv-QI4fJ8lXtLAZjlv1TUhBX3EizYu4qXWnvrNrGfzAs4LseQt7Ruk/w640-h560/2bd5bea02ccff8af1f6a0d8120eccd4c.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Self Portrait</i>, painted on the back of another of her portraits, <i>Jeune finlandaise (Young Finnish Girl) </i>by Sonia Delaunay, 1906. (image <a href="https://phileas69.tumblr.com/post/92424996949/sonia-delaunay-autoportrait-peint-au-dos-du">via</a>)<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">In her early career before the completely abstract art and fashion design for which she is known, she was influenced by post-Impressionists like van Gogh, Rousseau and Gauguin and Fauvists like Matisse, Bonnard and Derain (then at the cutting edge of art). She was already using the intense and attractive color palette that would influence the rest of her career. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span><span>She met a fellow Fauvist painter named
Robert Delaunay in 1909 and married him in 1910. So similar were their
styles that it's sometimes impossible to tell them apart. They
collaborated frequently and chased the same avant-garde theories their
entire lives. </span><span>“<i>Our love was united in art," </i>wrote Sonia,<i> "as other couples are united in faith, crime,
alcohol, political ambition. The passion of painting was our main link." </i></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8lm2O82papb-KDC0O-U733vTXbaT7J3ZS-chpy4nZz5KGlAzSMuQ3XhZjKNbQcMOoW6wS-cd3v4UEYx2CMWs2sGbsJnZ1fI4NqLlZSDKWIqasL0H8NG197eaU-msKSGUw5xGDrYWmbSM/s938/img000269A.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="938" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8lm2O82papb-KDC0O-U733vTXbaT7J3ZS-chpy4nZz5KGlAzSMuQ3XhZjKNbQcMOoW6wS-cd3v4UEYx2CMWs2sGbsJnZ1fI4NqLlZSDKWIqasL0H8NG197eaU-msKSGUw5xGDrYWmbSM/w640-h456/img000269A.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Sleeping Girl</i>, by Sonia Delaunay, 1907. (image <a href="https://artblart.com/2015/08/05/exhibition-the-ey-exhibition-sonia-delaunay-at-tate-modern-london/">via</a>). <br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJIVhMfDa6f94b3y1q_DFrQGsqyWE72gxSj3R8TDbuOh7ayIgOTSnlGqz4zcsghG1mpwFhPnWyERlkNtzgu2CG8u7VljzkqJK7KYcpaD3IsgV1T1VnKb7V9s35zXjESs-aC4Sw8ofLyGs/s560/portraits.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="560" height="388" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJIVhMfDa6f94b3y1q_DFrQGsqyWE72gxSj3R8TDbuOh7ayIgOTSnlGqz4zcsghG1mpwFhPnWyERlkNtzgu2CG8u7VljzkqJK7KYcpaD3IsgV1T1VnKb7V9s35zXjESs-aC4Sw8ofLyGs/w640-h388/portraits.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Left: <i>Portrait of Charles de Rochefort</i>, by Sonia Delaunay, 1908 (image <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/32357038@N08/5181140827/in/set-72157621743878241/">via</a>). Right: <i>Portrait of Tchouiko</i>, by Sonia Delaunay, 1908. Guache on paper, 55 x 46 cm. (image <a href="https://amare-habeo.tumblr.com/post/161136892586/sonia-delaunay-ukrainian-french-1885-1979">via</a>). </span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span>Eventually she grew frustrated that the Fauvists
did not go far enough; she considered the work of Matisse to be
but a compromise to the tastes of the bourgeoisie.</span> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjku_ZXnZ2WX2ya__X5uZ_huJd2RZLymifxD6t_WvbUT-9uFM4c_4zXIro8K9N7t4to9gzyfcF209pZYuUZKtTZUxHK1c3slFSr6hl8p5PFIz5jsEKS8jR_CL-YihVFBIILnFZeg5tn2TY/s1300/sonia-delaunayc2a0yellow-nude-web.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="848" data-original-width="1300" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjku_ZXnZ2WX2ya__X5uZ_huJd2RZLymifxD6t_WvbUT-9uFM4c_4zXIro8K9N7t4to9gzyfcF209pZYuUZKtTZUxHK1c3slFSr6hl8p5PFIz5jsEKS8jR_CL-YihVFBIILnFZeg5tn2TY/w640-h418/sonia-delaunayc2a0yellow-nude-web.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><figure aria-describedby="caption-attachment-17459" class="wp-caption alignnone" id="attachment_17459"><figcaption class="wp-caption-text" id="caption-attachment-17459"><span style="font-size: medium;">Yellow Nude by Sonia Delaunay, 1908. Courtesy Musée des Beaux-Arts de Nantes © Pracusa (image <a href="https://art-sheep.com/sonia-delaunay-the-queen-of-abstract-art-is-finally-offered-her-own-retrospective-show-in-the-uk/">via</a>). <i>This was painted toward the end of Delaunay's Fauvist period as she was growing frustrated that Fauvism didn't go far enough.
Robert Delaunay wrote in his journal, “Coming from the East [i.e.
Russia] to the West, it carries within itself this warmth,
this classic mysticism, and instead of becoming subsumed by the West it
finds its constructive expression through this friction, which
amplifies the very elements of the art into a new art. After lying dormant, color
has re-emerged." [paraphrased by me from a very bad translation].
Prostitutes were a common subject for the Fauvists and Cubists, but
Delaunay's subject doesn't seem to be trying to catch anyone's attention
or to be in any way performative. She is definitely judging the viewer. One critic wrote that Delaunay's prostitute wasn't the subject of the male gaze like in the paintings of her male peers, in that she doesn't bother looking at the
viewer and her elbow closes her off, giving her some agency. I disagree, to me it looks like
Delaunay is clearly more interested in portraying the interplay of color
over her body than in portraying the subject herself; it's almost like
looking at a tiger in a zoo who is covered in beautiful stripes but who doens't
care a whit about its stripes and is just waiting for you to leave. </i></span></figcaption></figure></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>After the Delaunays had a son in 1911, Sonia made him a baby blanked from
scraps of cloth as was Ukranian tradition. She'd been born in the Ukraine but had moved to St. Petersburg at age five when her wealthy aunt and uncle adopted her. When her avant-garde friends saw
it they exclaimed, "but it is cubist!" It was her first venture into
fabric arts, which would later define her career. She began experimenting with collage to create similar
effects. </span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnoCDNRtgyzdYzq8ERBHjophmTUt2x2kSc1vQ0tkMfOhYeLWJGDRXK7QU-ZmXPcTs5vJ6QrRplTvMbBKnURwmfigds0mURBhpyBEKr7eO-sxBEy-VZ7RcCSYDXMSKeXo9wPfrgyfD2_Mw/s1155/19e9b49814a1046bfa24bb4e5d47dddf.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="753" data-original-width="1155" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnoCDNRtgyzdYzq8ERBHjophmTUt2x2kSc1vQ0tkMfOhYeLWJGDRXK7QU-ZmXPcTs5vJ6QrRplTvMbBKnURwmfigds0mURBhpyBEKr7eO-sxBEy-VZ7RcCSYDXMSKeXo9wPfrgyfD2_Mw/w640-h418/19e9b49814a1046bfa24bb4e5d47dddf.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Left: <i>Simultaneous Solar Prism</i> by Sonia Delaunay, 1914. Collage (image <a href="https://calsfieldnotes.wordpress.com/2015/02/12/sonia-delaunay-a-life-in-colour/">via</a>). Right: <i>Flamenco Dancer</i>, by Sonia Delaunay, watercolor, 1916 (image <a href="https://www.wikiart.org/en/sonia-delaunay/flamenco-dancer">via</a>). <br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;">This is when Sonia and Robert together developed the most important concept of their careers: simultaneous art (or </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>simultanéisme</i>, as the Delaunays called it). <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Simultaneous color theory had been developed independently by Goethe (yes, the author of <i>Faust</i>)
and a chemist named Chevreul in the 1830s. Chevreul showed that colored
circles appeared more or less intense (even though they were the same
color) depending on which colors were surrounding the circle. He'd been
hired by a tapestry company (Gobelins, who a century later would produce
tapestries by Delaunay) to investigate why their threads kept suddenly
fading, and he found they weren't fading at all, but simply placed next
to colors that made them appear duller. This concept is called
"simultaneous contrast." <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Goethe, meanwhile, took Isaac Newton's explanations of color as
a physical phenomenon (i.e. light refractions) and demonstrated that a
major component of the way humans experience color is due to processing
and interpretation of the human brain, not to any independent physical quality of
the color itself. He also noticed simultaneous contrast and pointed out
that it was perceptual, not physical. Goethe defined complimentary colors (opposites on the color wheel which, combined as
light, make white; combined as paint they make dark brown). He noticed
how, placed side by side, they seem to vibrate and each to
appear more intense. This isn't due to the colors themselves but to the
human perception. The retina becomes fatigued and the
brain processes the fatigue as a visual sensation. Goethe, being a poet, investigated the universal emotions produced by colors and how that was both a product of the human brain and an important component of what it <i>feels like</i> to see as a human being. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">While
all artists of course use color theory on some level, certain artists were especially interested. Among them was J.M.W. Turner, who focused on Goethe's emotional theories of color, as well as the use of small amounts of complementary colors to increase
the sensation of luminosity. But it wasnt until the Impressionists that
serious attention was turned to color theory. Monet capitalized on
Goethe's characterizations of the gestalt qualities of certain colors as "warm"
or "cool," allowing him and othe Impressionists to revolutionize the practice of shading by
using blue instead of black, allowing the coolness to stand in for
value. In most Impressionist and post-Impressionist paintings you see
contrasting color with warm yellows and oranges representing warm sunny light and
cool blues and purples representing cool shadow, while the spaces between the
brushstrokes reveal hints of complementary colors that make the main
colors lively and complex. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">But why the
sudden interest in a century-old theory? It was largely the invention of
the camera and popularization of photography that drove it. The
photograph could replicate realistic imagery as people saw it, which had
formerly been the sole job of the artist. What, then, was the new job of the
artist? To notice in what ways humans see that cameras don't-- that is, to work
with the <i>experience</i> of seeing. The Pointillists explored the
physical sensations of sight while other modernists explored the more
emotional side of seeing. They payed attention to the effects of certain
shapes, rhythms and colors on the subconscious and used them to create
an experience that was more about seeing and feeling than about
subject-matter. For the later modernists, the peculiar visual
sensation of seeing a red circle intersected by a pattern, for instance,
was itself an acceptable subject for a painting. <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The
Delaunays went a step further than simultaneous color theory and
incorporated patterns which, placed side by side, set each other off and
amounted to a visual reaction that was distinct from the sum of its
parts. Sonia believed that "</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>simultanéisme</i>" could portray the essence of
movement because it caused to eye to <i>do</i> something. This was a
departure from artists like the Italian Futurists who tried to capture a
sequence of movements in a single image. Delaunay was instead trying to
create images that seemed to move visually, or that created the
emotional sensation of movement. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span>Apollinaire (the
poet) coined the term Orphism to apply to the simultaneous paintings of Sonia and
Robert. Orphism as a movement was short-lived but it introduced pure color into cubism
and influenced the Italian Futurists and German Expressionists as well
as Marc Chagall and Vassily Kandinsky. A Russian who visited the Delaunays in
1912 delivered</span><span><span> a series of lectures on the simultaneous</span>
which spread the idea to St. petersburg. The Delaunays themselves would
remain devoted to exploring the nuances of orphism and </span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span><i>simultanéisme</i>
their entire lives. </span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span> </span></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyKchilq9MvF6u8daHtbuir4wsrsv2md-LSVoNN3Zvcp7xoYtC_tm2VXHVtrk9fDrJkPpLIZkxaBYOWJAlfQ27mow3jky17pCXaxb51E9bDgpHOOTrLDK-PJCIVSUD_6y6qtwyqZiQ4Yc/s948/Bal-Bullier_Delaunay.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="235" data-original-width="948" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyKchilq9MvF6u8daHtbuir4wsrsv2md-LSVoNN3Zvcp7xoYtC_tm2VXHVtrk9fDrJkPpLIZkxaBYOWJAlfQ27mow3jky17pCXaxb51E9bDgpHOOTrLDK-PJCIVSUD_6y6qtwyqZiQ4Yc/w640-h158/Bal-Bullier_Delaunay.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p class="wp-caption-text"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Le Bal Bullier</i>, by Sonia Delaunay, 1912-13. Oil on canvas, 50.2 x 73 cm. Courtesy of the artist and Musée d’Art Moderne. (image <a href="https://artcritical.com/2015/02/19/sonia-delaunay-in-paris-and-london/">via</a>).<i>
The Bullier was a popular dance hall in Paris where the tango and
foxtrot were introduced to the city. The Delaunays went every Thursday
and made a splash dancing the tango while wearing each her simultaneous
clothes. Many other avant-garde artists frequented Bullier and word
began to spread about her fashion design. Their friend Apollinaire wrote
a notice in the newspaper urging people to go on Thursdays to see them.
This piece perfectly illustrates how Delaunay believed simultaneous
color and broken rhythmic pattern could create a sensation of movement.
The contrasting color blocks of the figures are set against color blocks
in the background that are the same size and contrast, giving the eye
no visual rest and pusing the eye to keep continuously moving (like a
dancer, obviously).</i> <br /></span></p></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span> <br /></span></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://londonartfile.files.wordpress.com/2015/04/14927-p4140006_2.jpg?w=407&h=288&zoom=2" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="453" data-original-width="640" height="227" src="https://londonartfile.files.wordpress.com/2015/04/14927-p4140006_2.jpg?w=407&h=288&zoom=2" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Le Bal Bullier</i> installed in a gallery (the Tate Modern in 2015, image <a href="https://londonartfile.com/2015/04/15/sonia-delaunay-at-tate-modern/">via</a>). <i>I find it helpful to see what paintings look like in real life. </i><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span> </span></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL-txCB3I23ZVWgCjzn_UOtftxDCsyCcK_2tHl586Y69P95NabGkW75cjPC8GiNcmZxftEyhkxda4oBe6s7wowKRq25djbKCm9E-LfMVV5_lGhPOIPJXiC8RcmPjeXX9Sa7WH7rA_7aik/s910/0850b8971dddd4ced84ec7e760d98a19.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="910" data-original-width="732" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL-txCB3I23ZVWgCjzn_UOtftxDCsyCcK_2tHl586Y69P95NabGkW75cjPC8GiNcmZxftEyhkxda4oBe6s7wowKRq25djbKCm9E-LfMVV5_lGhPOIPJXiC8RcmPjeXX9Sa7WH7rA_7aik/w514-h640/0850b8971dddd4ced84ec7e760d98a19.jpg" width="514" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">An abstract painting by Sonia Delaunay, c. 1920s, I'm guessing. (image <a href="http://lapaletteetlereve.eklablog.com/sonia-delaunay-c18539772">via</a>). <i>I
cannot find any information about this piece but I like it. Sort of a
mix between the "orphism" abstract paintings and the fabric design
sketches.</i> <br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span> </span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">"Beauty refuses to submit to the constraint of meaning or description." -Sonia Delaunay</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span> </span></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaCGHCotVrs99BIZLfoqS8m_RIGnGWQsQlMRKHgmLkoLoBTusB2wi_-yymrP3LSCbz9bXAA713BCbO8BhFF-P2fZXmXIWmM2MlwzDWBqLLEL3tVMl5zCW6_5bek7rHzu9FbmwJUtZ5Qhw/s910/sonia-delaunay-3-24-11-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="910" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaCGHCotVrs99BIZLfoqS8m_RIGnGWQsQlMRKHgmLkoLoBTusB2wi_-yymrP3LSCbz9bXAA713BCbO8BhFF-P2fZXmXIWmM2MlwzDWBqLLEL3tVMl5zCW6_5bek7rHzu9FbmwJUtZ5Qhw/w640-h338/sonia-delaunay-3-24-11-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Left: <i>Rythme Coloré (Colored Rhythm)</i>, by Sonia Delaunay,
1946. © L & M SERVICES B.V. The
Hague 20100623. Photo: © private collection (image <a href="https://art-sheep.com/sonia-delaunay-the-queen-of-abstract-art-is-finally-offered-her-own-retrospective-show-in-the-uk/">via</a>). Right: <i>Prisms Eléctriques (Electric Prisms)</i>, 1914 Collection of Centre Pompidou, Paris, France (image <a href="https://www.theartstory.org/artist/delaunay-sonia/artworks/">via</a>). <i>Prisms Eléctriques</i>
was painted early in the Delaunay's investigations into Orphism, after
Sonia and Robert were out walking one night and saw the newly installed
electric street lamps on a boulevard in Paris. They went home and each
tried to capture the ephemeral effects of the electric glow and the
scattered shadows on the sidewalk. The piece on the left, <i>Colored Rhythm</i>, is a prettier riff on an important piece she did for a much later group exhibition in 1938 called <i>Rhythm</i>.
Groups of circles are sliced and their halves are staggered,
syncopated, along a central axis. Around that time Delaunay explored her
growing interest in visual rhythm, its flow and break, as part of <i>simultanéisme</i>. Like many abstract artists including Kandinsky, Delaunay
often spoke about her work in terms of music. <br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">In
addition to color and pattern Delaunay interpreted </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>simultanéisme</i> conceptually and combined different creative genres to
create something new that was distinct from the sum of its parts. For
instance she combined poetry and painting to create a simultaneous book
about a train ride that was not an illustrated poem but a juxtaposition
of color and text that was meant to work together visually to create a
physical experience of reading that mimicked riding on a train. She also
combined poetry with fashion, creating "dress poems" where the form of
the dress was part of the poem's meaning. In her graphic design she
placed individual colored letters inside blocks of other colors, changed
their size and placement around the image, and used this simultaneous
visual experience to influence the mood that the words created in the
viewer. This is still an important basic concept in modern graphic
design. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Delaunay, while grasping the complexity of the theories and
their critical implications, seemed to work intuitively,
resulting in imagery that operates on simultaneous principles but is
also fun and beautiful. </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span>"For me," </span></i><span>she wrote</span><i><span>, "the abstract and the sensual should come together. Breaking
away from the descriptive line did not mean becoming sterile." </span></i><span>About Robert, she wrote,</span><i><span> </span><span>"In [him] I found a poet. A poet who wrote not with words but with colours."</span></i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJN_OPOZFV3rJDB6eNr2ZZYbzv7-1PqmB7B_eIDpyPpvQWEgU_IFME8gAAIjashyphenhyphenmMSgm94JCzEJGsiFW-1vsTd-0PVH9i_0yBJQI3b8qt1iejeylVC8_r8tncUutwVn2nloZqp6jkQh0/s1600/sonia_delaunay_la_prose_du_transsiberien_et_de_la_petite_jehanne_de_france2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="705" data-original-width="1600" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJN_OPOZFV3rJDB6eNr2ZZYbzv7-1PqmB7B_eIDpyPpvQWEgU_IFME8gAAIjashyphenhyphenmMSgm94JCzEJGsiFW-1vsTd-0PVH9i_0yBJQI3b8qt1iejeylVC8_r8tncUutwVn2nloZqp6jkQh0/w640-h282/sonia_delaunay_la_prose_du_transsiberien_et_de_la_petite_jehanne_de_france2.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>La Prose du Transsibérien et de la Petite Jehanne de France</i>, 1913, a collaborative book project by Sonia Delaunay and Blaise Cendrars (the pen name for Frédéric Louis Sauser) (image <a href="https://www.mhpbooks.com/the-first-simultaneous-book-on-display-at-moma/">via</a>). <i>This
looks like a pamphlet but it's a short book that unfolds
accordion-style. It's a poem that recalls Cendrars's experience as a
young boy riding on the Transsiberian Express with a French prostitute
named Jeanne, watching the landscapes fly by while daydreaming about
tropical places and ruminating about the Paris of his childhood that he
was leaving behind. The text, instead of black, is printed in
multi-colored stanzas that are meant to play off Delaunay's paintings.
The paintings and color blocks, likewise, are meant to reflect the mood
of each stanza. The long zig-zag binding and alternating placement of
the stanzas on the right and left sides of the column were meant to
mimic the train and its endless hypnotic movement, while Delaunay's
continuous paintings along one edge are its "window." It was considered
a "simultaneous book," meaning that neither illustration nor poem stood
alone but were two united visual media. They did a run of 50, with
Delaunay using a stencil to hand-watercolor each book alike. All 50
books, if unfolded and placed end to end, would reach to the top of the
Eiffel Tower (as their publicity promised). The book made a big
impression on the avant-garde art world at the time; the physical
experience of a painting/book that you interact with that morphs into
something with such large, bright presence was an important contribution
to artist books (a medium which has been a part of every art movement).
The author, Blaise Cendrars, who considered himself a simultaneous
poet, wrote in</i><i> </i>Der Sturm<i>, "Literature is a part of life. It is not something 'special.' All of
life is nothing but a poem, a movement… Here is what I wanted to say. I
have a fever. And this is why I love the painting of the Delaunays, full
of sun, of heat, of violence. Mme Delaunay has made such a beautiful
book of colors that my poem is more saturated with light than is my
life. That’s what makes me happy."</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPb3VcobaJWE8erXMjre9f2BKiXNXsId1aI1HlJXgowFequaLGvdxnbORvw5AWXTHfStVPoeGuXOqlRt2zcRpvS8Jz2Lc8M_s_1teSkS2tcsEQs4B8BxGKvdS3DtdSNcvVRXAHCkmB48E/s590/Sonia-Delaunay10.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="590" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPb3VcobaJWE8erXMjre9f2BKiXNXsId1aI1HlJXgowFequaLGvdxnbORvw5AWXTHfStVPoeGuXOqlRt2zcRpvS8Jz2Lc8M_s_1teSkS2tcsEQs4B8BxGKvdS3DtdSNcvVRXAHCkmB48E/w640-h434/Sonia-Delaunay10.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Delaunay's simultaneous costume designs for Tristan Tzara's play <i>The Gas-Operated Heart, </i>1923 (image <a href="http://afflictor.com/tag/david-bowie/">via</a>). <i>These costumes were directly copied and <a href="https://vimeo.com/348064534">worn onstage by David Bowie</a> on SNL in 1979 while singing </i>The Man Who Sold The World<i>.
He wore the stiff "suit" on the left and his gangly arms poked out at
the elbow and spun around in an absurd little dance. Tzara's original
play was a Dadaist satire of conventional drama; it has three very short
acts punctuated by songs and bizarre ballets. It's written using
conventional dramatic elements that seem to have been chopped up in
little pieces and rearranged so they make no sense, with dialogue made
of odd bits of idioms and a vague sense of romantic love. The third
act's script is just doodles of pierced hearts. Tzara considered his own
play a "hoax" that only "industrialized imbiciles" could enjoy so long
as they believed in the concept of "a man of genius," a notion that
Tzara wanted to lampoon. According to historians the play was actually
quite good as a Dadaist piece. Delaunay's boxy cardboard costumes
limited the actor's movement and emphasized how two-dimenional the
characters were (they were all named after body parts like Ear and
Nose), helping the audience understand what Tzara was trying to say.
However the 1923 production is most famous for the riot that broke out
during its performance. What had happened was, the Dadaist movement was
starting to split up. On one side were Tzara and a long list of famous
avant-garde artists, musicians and writers (Erik Satie, Man Ray, Jean
Cocteau, Marcel Duchamp, and Hans Arp among them), who were completely
committed to absurdist nihilism (Cocteau nicknamed them "Le
Suicide-Club" because he didn't see that attitude leading anywhere but
ultimately burning itself out). On the other side was the influential
artist and critic André Breton and his fellow artists who supported
Dada's lampooning of the art establishment and bourgeois conventions,
but felt complete antagonistic nihilism was too far; they needed to
believe in </i>something<i> (they would soon go on to formally establish the Surrealist movement for this reason). So Breton hosted a </i>Congress for the Determination and Defense of the Modern Spirit <i>(yes really)</i> <i>and
Tzara showed up just to make fun of it. He wrote a manifesto of Dada
against Breton's Dada and many artists signed; feelings were hurt and
bridges were burned. The next year Tzara organized a Dada exhibition of
art, plays, music and poetry readings featuring artists who'd signed his
manifesto. It was a packed house, full of artists, rubber-neckers who
wanted to see the drama unfold between rival factions, and adventurous
normal people who just wanted to gawk at weird art. While </i>The Gas Heart<i>
was in progress, Andre Breton and his artist buddies showed up and went
berzerk. Apparently Breton had heard that Tzara had said something
derogatory about Picasso and that set him off (Tzara had said similar
things about other artists including Duchamp and no one had taken
offense, including Duchamp). They stormed the stage and attacked the
actors, who couldn't run away or fight back because of Delaunay's boxy
costumes. Then they completely trashed the theater and ripped the seats
out, and at that point the audience counter-attacked. Tzara called the
police and the brawl moved into the streets (still just among the
avant-garde artists). Several poets were injured. After the incident
Delaunay, like Edna from </i>The Incredibles<i>, never designed in
cardboard again. The Dada movement fizzled almost immediately
thereafter. Tzara's faction had distilled Dada into complete and perfect
nihilism, and once they'd done that, no one could see the point of
continuing.</i> <br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The Delaunays moved to sunny Portugul in 1915 and lived on an allowance from Sonia's aunt and the rental income from some real estate in St. Petersburg, but the Russian Revolution of 1917 suddenly ruined the Terk family financially. Sonia, who had always been interested in the commercial and applied arts, turned her attention more seriously to income-generating creative endeavors. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">They moved to Madrid because Sonia felt they could earn a better living there commercially. She
organized an interior design and simultaneous jewelry boutique called Casa Sonia in Madrid, but
it never actually opened officially.
Still, it won her valuable contacts in high society and she was hired
to design interiors around the Madrid.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">While in Madrid the Delaunays became close friends with the director of the Ballets Russes and were hired to design sets (Robert) and costumes (Sonia) for their productions, and later other ballets, plays and operas. <br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6h-knha4ijR3NRHUwDX6Ikmt4CswyDB8u-RKoOVpAFMEUSCV3L8Xvp8MVJ_yv1WCHGoLe8B2DYbQPULOf8dRMxoaSIsw9iLsxyIpzDeqp2xAclnBp2XVgZXHI05r713gn0bjFsfOk7A/s1146/cleopatra.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="830" data-original-width="1146" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6h-knha4ijR3NRHUwDX6Ikmt4CswyDB8u-RKoOVpAFMEUSCV3L8Xvp8MVJ_yv1WCHGoLe8B2DYbQPULOf8dRMxoaSIsw9iLsxyIpzDeqp2xAclnBp2XVgZXHI05r713gn0bjFsfOk7A/w640-h464/cleopatra.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>One of several costumes designed by Delaunay for the the 1918 London revival of the Ballets Russes's </i>Cleopatra<i>,
1909. Robert Delauany designed the production's sets. Her sketch, left;
the costume in a museum, middle; the dancer in the role, right. I don't
have sources for any of these images; they all came uncredited from
Pinterest. Delaunay is one of a long list of avant-garde superstars who
designed costumes or sets for various Ballets Russes productions in
1920s Europe. Based on </i>Cleopatra<i>'s success Sonia Delaunay secured several more commissions for large-scale productions, including the Orientalist opera </i>Aïda<i>
in Barcelona. In the ballet, two young lovers meet up in a temple in
ancient Egypt. Then Cleopatra visits the temple (making a dramatic
entrance in a sarcophagus and being sensuously unwrapped from mummy-like
layers of multicolored veils; Delaunay used the unfolding of the colors
to great effect) and the young man falls instantly way more in love
with Cleopatra than the girl he came to meet. He pleads with Cleopatra
to let him be with her, and she finally agrees to spend one night with
him, only on the condition that he kill himself with poison the
following morning (that's a hell of a way to do a one-night stand; no
walks of shame for her). The girl who he'd originally met, who was there
the entire time, begs him not to, then leaves. She comes back to the
temple the next morning to find his poisoned corpse. O, tragedy! That
might be the worst way I've ever heard of getting dumped, but it sounds
like she dodged a bullet in the end. Imagine being married to such a
horny idiot. Anyway the ballet was famous for its sensuality. The
dancing was incredibly sexy and the original costumes from the 1909 run
appeared to have lots of bare flesh (they were really skin-colored jersy
inserts), which was really exciting in Edwardian times. It sparked a
craze for sexy Egyptian stuff (think Theda Bara and silent films). All
of those clothes and sets caught on fire during a tour of Latin America,
so the Delaunays were hired to re-design something new that would still
excite people a decade after the original opening. Sonia's designs were
less Ziegfield Follies, more bold art deco modern. Her costumes with
Robert's sets were a modern explosion of color and pattern. Delaunay's
costume designs would go on to strongly influence later designers like
Pierre Cardin in his mod space-age collections. </i><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Sonia later recalled Madrid as "a breath of fresh air, a five year vacation" but the Delaunays soon became homesick for Paris. Their artistic careers had grown stagnant in Madrid, meanwhile there was a exciting Surrealism movement underway in Paris. Sonia later wrote that she considered herself
French more than anything else; she was only happy in France,
and above all in Paris. T</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>hey moved back in 1921.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeyOD5BB9TEKVH8QjTub392IWCq6H56SJkR0Zs1-MP1IR2passKqb39vLPxL5jEluKY6tnE4Hk07US9vhcfEzbykCcIyYGc-odeT5uEYL_NkuSWHLpE-0XpV8idRN3IL7iqOGg4srPdkU/s1600/ob_ef783e_img-6796.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeyOD5BB9TEKVH8QjTub392IWCq6H56SJkR0Zs1-MP1IR2passKqb39vLPxL5jEluKY6tnE4Hk07US9vhcfEzbykCcIyYGc-odeT5uEYL_NkuSWHLpE-0XpV8idRN3IL7iqOGg4srPdkU/w640-h428/ob_ef783e_img-6796.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p class="ob-desc"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Projet de salle à manger des Delaunay, boulevard Malherbes</i>, by Sonia Delaunay, 1924. (image <a href="http://www.actuart.org/2014/10/expo-retrospective-artiste-du-xxeme-siecle-sonia-delaunay-les-couleurs-de-l-abstraction.html">via</a>).
<i> When the Delaunays moved back to Paris in 1921 they decorated their
apartment completely using Dadaist and modernist concepts. Their living
example of avant-garde art being integrated into all aspects of daily
life was a core value of the Dadaists (as well as Bauhaus and other
modernist movements) and won them huge resepct among the cutting edge.
The Delaunays invited visiting artists to contribute to the decor,
including Man Ray, Hans Arp, and Marc Chagall. Their apartment's
reputation also helped them secure interior design commissions around
Paris. </i><br /></span></p></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFSOA2c7NCzhSclos4t47t9gO4pJQ9VpX3xX_TfcYUwlD2YBgZo3qrtMFwfLT29MsdLUvpgAN3gfcXvKVrRok4tlq0zTj9XDxU7Z4FFH6_8aBEvVddGZXisvG250aodpzAQgWhSBguVHs/s599/Delaunay%252C_Dessin_en_couleurs%252C_published_in_Der_Sturm%252C_1922.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="599" data-original-width="456" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFSOA2c7NCzhSclos4t47t9gO4pJQ9VpX3xX_TfcYUwlD2YBgZo3qrtMFwfLT29MsdLUvpgAN3gfcXvKVrRok4tlq0zTj9XDxU7Z4FFH6_8aBEvVddGZXisvG250aodpzAQgWhSBguVHs/w488-h640/Delaunay%252C_Dessin_en_couleurs%252C_published_in_Der_Sturm%252C_1922.jpg" width="488" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Sonia or Robert Delaunay (or both), 1921-22, published in Der Sturm, Volume 13, Number 3, 5 March 1922. (image <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Delaunay,_Dessin_en_couleurs,_published_in_Der_Sturm,_1922.jpg">via</a>). <i>This looks so modern to me. It would look good, even edgy, in every single decade since it was made.</i> <br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Sonia began selling scarves in Paris that used her painting motifs, which proved to be very popular. So she reapproached her patchwork simultaneous dress designs from the old days of the Bal Bullier and began making elegant simultaneous "dress-poems." Her attention was soon turned nearly full time to fashion design. <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span><span>Only
20 or 30 years prior, fine art was strictly regimented in terms of most
to least respected genres; a history painter, for instance, might be
concerned about the impact to his career if he exhibited a series of
flower paintings. Yet Sonia Delaunay felt zero compuction about jumping
back and forth from serious experimentation in abstract painting and
performance, to decorating automobiles and designing flyers, and then
back to painting, subjecting each endeavor to the same experimentation
with the same concepts and thus uniting them. And it worked for her; she
gained both commercial renown and avant-garde respect. Her commercial art was of course not without its detractors. Some critics lamented that her formidable talent was diverted from her worthy painting endeavors to something like fashion design; but as criticism goes, that's not too bad. <br /></span></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu3JdnahPndhoZXqN4wl5CeiFCQa4w7eBFqEX_C88W0fKCYBEJ3HOM_L9FURVHxsgIG4Q-XwcXehoA3wwiuJ4wmd1diAjxKAYI1kBmvivCTbSTLR0_YmbioWiFvCSwtUT4A_9MDxtWxC0/s2048/bathing+suit.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1135" data-original-width="2048" height="354" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu3JdnahPndhoZXqN4wl5CeiFCQa4w7eBFqEX_C88W0fKCYBEJ3HOM_L9FURVHxsgIG4Q-XwcXehoA3wwiuJ4wmd1diAjxKAYI1kBmvivCTbSTLR0_YmbioWiFvCSwtUT4A_9MDxtWxC0/w640-h354/bathing+suit.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Left: a design for some fabric (image <a href="https://www.goldmarkart.com/sonia-delaunay/artist/sonia-delaunay">via</a>). Middle: two models dressed in Delaunay's designs (image <a href="https://artblart.com/2015/08/05/exhibition-the-ey-exhibition-sonia-delaunay-at-tate-modern-london/">via</a>). Right: Left: Design B53 (detail) for silk fabric, 1924 (image <a href="https://art-sheep.com/sonia-delaunay-the-queen-of-abstract-art-is-finally-offered-her-own-retrospective-show-in-the-uk/">via</a>). <i>The
suits were knitted (that was normal back then) and the robes were
probably printed silks, also designed by Delaunay. She often designed
with draping silks, but also incorporated a wide variety of textures and
materials like embroidered wools and colored furs. In 1923 a US fabric
manufacturer commissioned Delaunay to design some fabric prints for
them, which was a major turning point in her career. She ended up
setting up her own print shop and boutique in 1924 called The Atelier
Simultané where she could control the quality of printed fabrics (mostly
silks) and sell her own designs. Visitors could see the modern
paintings covering the walls in the Atalier and understand better what
Delaunay was trying to say with the idea of "cubist dresses" or
"simultaneous dresses." The small runs of high quality fabrics and the
dresses she made from it gained enormous popularity in Parisian high
society, and the internatinally. Delaunay was invited to lecture at the
Sorbonne in 1927 about the influence of painting on fashion. </i></span> </td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;">According
to an article from the early 1920s, Delaunay was one in a long parade of "reform" clothing designers since Amelia Bloomer, followed by the unpopular "health dresses" of
Germany and various others, but what set Delaunay apart was that her clothes
were actually attractive. Apparently the stereotype we still have of "artist
clothes" already existed back then: huge chunky jewelry, long flowing robes of
odd natural materials, and unflattering silhouette. Delaunay had "an eye
for beauty," in the writer's opinion, which made her "cubist dresses"
much more relevant. <i>"You know," </i>concluded the writer-- and I'm
paraphrasing--<i> "this idea of mixing art and fashion is weird but it
makes sense. We should do more of this."</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Delaunay
preferred a natural (loosely fitting) 1920s silhouette as a base for her
dresses. She hoped that by creating interest with the materials,
textures and colors instead of silhette, clothing pieces could endure longer. It was a "slow
fashion" idea in an era when silhouette had careened dramatically from
one extreme to another through the previous three decades, from perky
and wasp-waisted with enormous puffed sleeves, to statuesque S-curves,
to calf-length drop-waisted shift dresses for boyish figures. We always
read about how exciting the changes in fashions were at the time, but apparently
there were also people back then who were sick of investing endless time
and money in clothes only to have the ideal completely reverse itself
in five years. Was Delaunay successful in slowing the race of fashion?
Maybe. Her clothes do still look like 1920s pieces but they are wearable (in
theory) today. They'd be ridiculously unflattering on me personally, but
on a fashion model or singer they'd still look like they belong in the modern
world. I would love to wear any of the fabric prints she designed,
and could do so even at an office without looking odd. In fact the popular
rainbow- hued watercolor theme of the <a href="https://youtu.be/lnanfptXwPg">Chanel Spring/Summer 2014 show</a> (beginning around the 12:00 minute mark) is very reminiscent of Delaunay's work including her simultaneous juxtaposition of pattern. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqXdljwgDr2lWRC8-hnhOKt1Aly1ac-lq0IDaZbLcc9PGpQI6zJm07N9OqDzivc9Y7F2DlthHespYf4iUoJU5MOvK054qsjtZ1xeujLvZo2Qa8iOFOVYnzZ7q_WNQUwzCzMcb7VnJur4o/s861/clothes.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="514" data-original-width="861" height="382" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqXdljwgDr2lWRC8-hnhOKt1Aly1ac-lq0IDaZbLcc9PGpQI6zJm07N9OqDzivc9Y7F2DlthHespYf4iUoJU5MOvK054qsjtZ1xeujLvZo2Qa8iOFOVYnzZ7q_WNQUwzCzMcb7VnJur4o/w640-h382/clothes.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Left: Coat made for Gloria Swanson 1923-24. Wool embroidery on wool. Private collection © Pracusa (image <a href="https://www.dhgshop.it/blog/article-sonia-delaunay-at-tate-modern-in-london_269.php">via</a>). Right: a 1925 dress and fabric design by Delaunay, 1925-28. Printed silk satin
with metallic embroidery. Musée de la Mode de la Ville de Paris,
Galliera. © L & M SERVICES B.V. The Hague 20100623. (image <a href="https://art-sheep.com/sonia-delaunay-the-queen-of-abstract-art-is-finally-offered-her-own-retrospective-show-in-the-uk/">via</a>). <br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOEp0CSHhUCeWWE1TpW1-drOEGeoZPeDcWKBIerFD2ZxyMHAe3Cg_m_07HLTZ7OXyMm491RqxVnOA6vY-rMCBi28-pesLbfxOux8ISVH0ZhTsEBKOs5oqhLuRVgk9Si-bIB56YnaaT3JU/s1196/fashion+designs.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="578" data-original-width="1196" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOEp0CSHhUCeWWE1TpW1-drOEGeoZPeDcWKBIerFD2ZxyMHAe3Cg_m_07HLTZ7OXyMm491RqxVnOA6vY-rMCBi28-pesLbfxOux8ISVH0ZhTsEBKOs5oqhLuRVgk9Si-bIB56YnaaT3JU/w640-h310/fashion+designs.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Several fashion designs by Delaunay. Left (image <a href="https://www.goldmarkart.com/sonia-delaunay/artist/sonia-delaunay">via</a>). Middle: Robe Poème, 1923 (image <a href="https://itsveryyou.wordpress.com/2017/08/05/sonia-delaunay-stylish-simultanism/">via</a>). Right (image <a href="https://www.thoughtco.com/sonia-delaunay-biography-4173662">via</a>). <i>All three designs show Delaunay's love of color; when used in clothes they reminded her of the folk clothing worn at Ukranian festivals of her childhood. The
dress in the center was one of Delaunay's "poem dresses," a
simultaneous design which sought to unite poetry and fashion. She
designed and made several, based on short poems she wrote. Delaunay
spoke Russian, German, English and French (and, I assume, Ukranian) from
childhood and was a lifelong devotee of poetry. She maintained close
friendships with French poets Apollinaire and Blaise Cendrars, among
others. </i><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyptYRcHkKbyn0P38bp3UQ0TCuSv-DtZyHShrlB9fm-vOtvHWGxfVmARTwFXXutbsmiT1d8UK949MEds0GoA_qYGm0kmWGZgmz93yxygEQKnTeqOXwdj4BJZzGbD7_m9zJcgMWNzAwcsI/s876/car.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="461" data-original-width="876" height="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyptYRcHkKbyn0P38bp3UQ0TCuSv-DtZyHShrlB9fm-vOtvHWGxfVmARTwFXXutbsmiT1d8UK949MEds0GoA_qYGm0kmWGZgmz93yxygEQKnTeqOXwdj4BJZzGbD7_m9zJcgMWNzAwcsI/w640-h336/car.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Left: a Vogue cover (not illustrated by Delaunay) obviously referring to Delaunay's clothes and auto paint designs. (image <a href="https://pandaartdocents.files.wordpress.com/2015/12/sonia-delaunay_vogue.jpg">via</a>). <i>Sonia herself did illustrate other Vogue covers in her fresh colorful style.</i> Right: Two models wearing fur coats designed by Sonia Delaunay and manufactured
by Heim, with the car belonging to the journalist Kaplan and painted
after one of Sonia Delaunay’s fabrics, in front of the Pavillon du
Tourisme designed by Mallet-Stevens, International Exposition of Modern
Industrial and Decorative Arts, Paris 1925. Bibliothèque nationale de
France (image and caption <a href="https://www.phaidon.com/agenda/art/articles/2015/april/23/sonia-delaunay-planes-prints-and-automobiles/">via</a>). <br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;">With the
Great Depression in the 1930s the demand for luxury silks and
hand-embroidered art-clothes dwindled, so Sonia switched back to
primarily being a painter. She was happy to do it. While she loved
commercial arts, she'd had enough of running a large commerical
business. She would, however, continue designing fabrics for
Holland-based Metz & Co. through the 1950s. <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">She did still work as a graphic designer in the 1930s, most notably
experimenting with electric lights as part of art and commercial design.
Her illuminated advertising posters for Zig Zag cigarette papers at the
Salon de la Lumiére in 1937 won an advertising prize. Unfortunately I couldn't find any photos or specific descriptions of how this may have looked.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Throughout the 1930s
the Delaunays also worked together to design pavilions for several
international expositions; Robert designed the pavilions and Sonia made
multiple large-scale themed murals. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7IiWUcyYazdRj_HliizExOxt0-OYYpfBV_kLUF-IzJSDAvkdh9wdyesJxmx3ZuCVZ6X6x8wRfhUvBjTTH4iMAnaQRThoqyjuU4Lw9zMDX86Yh5SYO0QM9UckpTwkutxed1rvRk19uWIc/s1600/ob_dc503b_img-6807.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="639" data-original-width="1600" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7IiWUcyYazdRj_HliizExOxt0-OYYpfBV_kLUF-IzJSDAvkdh9wdyesJxmx3ZuCVZ6X6x8wRfhUvBjTTH4iMAnaQRThoqyjuU4Lw9zMDX86Yh5SYO0QM9UckpTwkutxed1rvRk19uWIc/w640-h256/ob_dc503b_img-6807.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><p class="ob-desc"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Étude pour voyage lointins (panneau mural pour le pavillon des chemins, le Palais de l'air),</i> by Sonia Delaunay, 1937. (image <a href="http://www.actuart.org/2014/10/expo-retrospective-artiste-du-xxeme-siecle-sonia-delaunay-les-couleurs-de-l-abstraction.html">via</a>). <i>This painting is a huge mural for an exposition</i>. <br /></span></p></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxyF8BOFCseamrTnv_-tn2xOH8zi3TrtHj3O9neJSuH52loh57qVGiW3ZWRvNnQ83COmntBXJKP7YzWWkCtxi8NBacIZMakFWa3iHj1GCKorwpM6NKJRw-JCByGXXuuSd_aujvgq6I3p4/s620/propeller-air-pavilion-1937.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="260" data-original-width="620" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxyF8BOFCseamrTnv_-tn2xOH8zi3TrtHj3O9neJSuH52loh57qVGiW3ZWRvNnQ83COmntBXJKP7YzWWkCtxi8NBacIZMakFWa3iHj1GCKorwpM6NKJRw-JCByGXXuuSd_aujvgq6I3p4/w640-h268/propeller-air-pavilion-1937.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="caption"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Propeller (Air Pavilion)</i> by Sonia Delaunay, 1937. Skissernas Museum, Lund, Sweden. © Pracusa 2014083 Photo: Emma Krantz (image <a href="https://www.phaidon.com/agenda/art/articles/2015/april/23/sonia-delaunay-planes-prints-and-automobiles/">via</a>). <i>This
painting is huge, one of Delaunay's three wall-sized murals for a
pavilion at an exposition about technology. Robert had designed some of
the expo's pavilions. </i> <br /></span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">In 1941
Robert died of cancer. Sonia devoted years after his death to securing
his reputation as a painter and making sure his work was shown and sold
and that his contributions to art history were recorded and celebrated. A
friend of the Delaunays once commented that, while they and their son
were all great creators of commercial arts, not a single one of them
were business people at heart, and had a hard time really selling
themselves as a brand despite thier successes, implying that a truly
business-minded person could have turned their skills into booming
business and household names. He held as an example the fact that Sonia
had to devote so much energy to making sure Robert's name was well-known
in the art world. Sonia's reputation, fortunately, never dwindled in her old age. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Their son Charles, meanwhile, grew up to become a jazz musician and in 1930 opened the first jazz club in Paris, the legendary Hot Club de France. He and his club jam sessions introduced Django Reinhardt to Stephen Grapelli. During the Nazi occupation in World War II Charles used the club and its tours to spy for the Résistance; he was interrogated but released, while two of the club's co-founders were sent to concentration camps where they were killed. That's all I read about the Delaunay family's experience during the War. Sonia Delaunay was from a Jewish family but she never considered it an important part of her identity, so I don't know if it would have been known by the French or Germans. The Terks, who had adopted Sonia from their Ukranian relatives, had been so wealthy and they'd spent so much time traveling that the antisemitic persecution faced by many in Russia had had little impact on them. Robert and Sonia had moved to Auvergne to avoid the invasion, but Robert, who already had cancer, died soon after the move because of the stress it put on him in his poor health. <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">After
Robert died Sonia lived briefly with fellow Dadaists-turned-modernists
Sophie Taeuber-Arp and Hans Arp. She collaborated with the couple many
times through the 1940s and 50s. She continued painting, never
abandoning Orphism (which remained surprisingly relevant and appreciated through the
decades) and showed her work in major international exhibitions, group
and solo, throughout the 1940s, 50s and 60s. In the 1960-70s Delaunay's
reputation was boosted by the art deco revival (through the lens of mod,
psychadelic and "Biba girl" trends). Some of her pieces were issued
as tapestries by the fabric manufacturer Gobelins while major museums
mounted retrospectives of her work. When Tristan Tzara's <i>The Gas Heart</i> was translated and published in 1977 it included ten illustrative
lithographs by Delaunay (perhaps that's where David Bowie saw the
costumes he copied in his 1979 SNL appearance). In the 70s she was
widely published. One of her paintings was presented from the French
President to the US President, and she was named an officer of the
Legion of Honor. She died in 1979. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Here is my own drawing of Sonia Delaunay. I based it on a photograph that may be her or a model wearing her designs (which I changed slightly). I surrounded her with more designs based on photos of people in her atelier wearing her clothes and standing against her paintings and designs on the walls. And of course I wanted to place the patterns against each other because </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>simultanéisme</i>. Plenty of photos of Delaunay survive, so I was easily able to conjure an image of her face. <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglgSfA2RNbS7787fq4sZixDAaTKPQgfLDWCa6vCvpj_OIT2jB7Oqhewl_gfzNZD9S-w0eGIZ_a1NT2mvrqLIFGzBNquSRryobfj9lTw0yd3UOe-tMZySWb66fVhOcM2IH0PFT-9I-NzZg/s1600/7-sonia+delaunay-SAMPLE.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1058" height="951" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglgSfA2RNbS7787fq4sZixDAaTKPQgfLDWCa6vCvpj_OIT2jB7Oqhewl_gfzNZD9S-w0eGIZ_a1NT2mvrqLIFGzBNquSRryobfj9lTw0yd3UOe-tMZySWb66fVhOcM2IH0PFT-9I-NzZg/w630-h951/7-sonia+delaunay-SAMPLE.jpeg" width="630" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /> </span><p></p>Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-87904505326257075012020-11-13T18:19:00.003-05:002020-11-13T20:20:27.828-05:00Inktober Day 6: Bessie MacNicol<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA9MOlCacJLC3iUKJn1IOFYEa1e-ul0ftKGvjGTdXdIZ3sUw6dQ-FYanVR5rIr0vzmhAKMj0vrLvs2ohyphenhyphenSRbDUM79M_MEP_4TxTk2vYs4YqxJQyiTyQ7ddgt7F2p47urLxAEc7HYqzLss/s800/autumn.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="667" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA9MOlCacJLC3iUKJn1IOFYEa1e-ul0ftKGvjGTdXdIZ3sUw6dQ-FYanVR5rIr0vzmhAKMj0vrLvs2ohyphenhyphenSRbDUM79M_MEP_4TxTk2vYs4YqxJQyiTyQ7ddgt7F2p47urLxAEc7HYqzLss/w534-h640/autumn.jpg" width="534" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Autumn</i>, by Bessie MacNicol, c. 1898. (image <a href="https://artuk.org/discover/artworks/autumn-107297/search/actor:macnicol-bessie-18691904/page/1/view_as/grid">via</a>). <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>When I visited Scotland a few years ago I was unprepared for how much I'd like Glasgow; it's the kind of unassuming city that truly cool people call their hometown. So when I read about the Glasgow School of Arts and its community that flourished around 1880-1920 I'm honestly kind of jealous. Frances Henry "Fra" Newbery was an influential teacher who was by all accounts very fun, who encouraged male and female students and teachers alike. Students were often seen stitching feminist banners between classes; this is primarily because the needlepoint teacher was an active member of the militant wing of the Women's Suffrage movement who did several stints in prison, though no one knew exactly what for (she'd used an assumed name). They held historic costume pageants and wore each other's art nouveau designs. Students formed lasting friendships. Everyone who attended seemed to open studios on the same streets and holiday in the same artist colony in Kirkcudbright. <br /></p><p>The School was so productive that it helped Glasgow gain an international visibility in the art world. Previously Scotland's reputation orbited Edinburgh and its schools' more conservative Romantic art. Then there were three waves of Glasgow artists, plus a design movement, that put Glasgow on the map. </p><p>The first wave were inspired by the Barbizon school in France, where artists painted en plein aire (i.e. outside) from nature and left paint surfaces slightly sketchy or patchy rather than thin and carefully blended. The Glasgow artists valued "realism," which in this case means portraying the world around them (farmers, landscapes and real people doing everyday things in the painters' own era). This summarizes both the critics' take on the movement and the manifestos of painters themselves, but I have to admit I have a hard time wrapping my mind around it. To me the paintings <i>do</i> look idealized: quaint bucolic tableaux, attractive peasants, vaguely fairy-tale versions of Scotland's yesteryear. And all that warm glowing sunshine! Having been to Glasgow, I can tell you that is <i>not</i> realistic. However, compared to the contemporaneous Parisian Academic style (scenes from Classical Greece, religious allegory and idealized nudes in fantasy
situations) the Glasgow painters <i>were</i> realistic. They shone a spotlight, however soft-focus, on Scotland's own landscape and people.</p><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZ-rH0e6QdDveVVJqDTmva44YJ_9LvrWWRO76apwvMLPqjwjxK4F-wTEHzCeSKUJf01jTB-c26tFkppx2VFsDd7Inc_AulF76jatr4cSscZljcKwi-n-WtHoscWP1yuFI6MztNkbQnJM/s800/a+galloway+landscape.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="603" data-original-width="800" height="482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZ-rH0e6QdDveVVJqDTmva44YJ_9LvrWWRO76apwvMLPqjwjxK4F-wTEHzCeSKUJf01jTB-c26tFkppx2VFsDd7Inc_AulF76jatr4cSscZljcKwi-n-WtHoscWP1yuFI6MztNkbQnJM/w640-h482/a+galloway+landscape.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A Galloway Landscape</i>, by Bessie MacNicol, 1889. (image <a href="https://artuk.org/discover/artworks/a-galloway-landscape-85072/search/actor:macnicol-bessie-18691904/page/1/view_as/grid">via</a>) <i>This landscape shows the influence of the first Glasgow wave on MacNicol. The piece isn't Impressionist but it is made of shimmering patches of color and the colors, while not brilliant, are rich. It shows real people in a real place. The trees on the left have a bit of a storybook quality to them. </i> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>The second wave, around the 1890s-1900s, built on the previous wave's goals but with the added influences of the Impressionists and Glasgow's own craft and design movement. Margaret and Charles Mackintosh's famous take on Art Nouveau incorporated ancient Celtic motifs and made everything it touched into art, from writing desks to winter coats. Likewise fine art began to incorporate these Art Nouveau decorative arts. Second wave paintings, while still showcasing Scottish landscapes and people, often resembled story book illustrations, sometimes with gold leaf, outlines or or stylized figures and foliage. They professed to be inspired by Whistler. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisWw3sTFZQPcUdT10bOd_yB0NH3r6GlrNBSpqAJHm9aTpoNsI6IpVmX8VE-ZJRfScKP0Lo8oNLeu8F1hACIryuTImpIdBoRC3kKq1llJlmCje9V03AOhmpyv4K4WT4tUna386u4HScRMU/s600/two+sisters.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="460" data-original-width="600" height="492" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisWw3sTFZQPcUdT10bOd_yB0NH3r6GlrNBSpqAJHm9aTpoNsI6IpVmX8VE-ZJRfScKP0Lo8oNLeu8F1hACIryuTImpIdBoRC3kKq1llJlmCje9V03AOhmpyv4K4WT4tUna386u4HScRMU/w640-h492/two+sisters.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Two Sisters</i>, by Bessie MacNicol, 1899. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bessie_MacNicol_-_Two_Sisters_1899.jpg">via</a>). <i>This shows the influence of the second wave, of which MacNicol was a part. They'd obviously absorbed the techniques and colors of Impressionism. The stylization also alluded to the crafts movement; here the figures look like they could be from a carved woodblock print, while the foliage and patches of color are reminiscent of embroidery. The emotion of the piece comes primarily from its beautiful surface and gives the subjects a deeper, more timeless symbolic meaning.</i> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Beginning around World War I a third wave of artists planted their modernist flag on the tradition, incorporating Fauvist and Art Deco design. This wave of art didn't even hit till after Bessie MacNicol died, I only mention it because it's super cool and you should <a href="https://www.nationalgalleries.org/search/artist/samuel-john-peploe">check</a> <a href="https://www.nationalgalleries.org/search/artist/john-duncan-fergusson">it</a> <a href="https://www.nationalgalleries.org/search/artist/francis-campbell-boileau-cadell">out</a>. </p><p>These three waves were collectively known as "<a href="https://www.nationalgalleries.org/art-and-artists/features/glasgow-boys">The Glasgow Boys</a>." However many female artists were involved, so to prevent them from being erased a group of 1960s historians coined the term "<a href="https://www.nationalgalleries.org/art-and-artists/glossary-terms/glasgow-girls">The Glasgow Girls</a>." This refers to artists from all three waves as well as decorative designers and craftswomen. The effort turned out to be quite effective actually; scores of Scottish bloggers and historians seem genuinely excited to celebrate these "wummin." I still think it's silly to separate them here, since in real life they were all up in each other's business, so I'll just call them the Glasgow School.</p><p>When I look at the Glasgow School, here's what <i>I </i>see: the legacy of Symbolism and all its spin-off aesthetic movements. If you've ever taken an art history course you know about the shockingly modern Impressionists, with their audacious photography- and Japanese-inspired compositions, their frank everyday subject-matter, their innovations in form and color. And you know about the aftermath, the post-impressionists (like Cezanne) and the Fauvists (like Matisse) and Cubists (like Picasso) who eventually led to Abstract Expressionism (Rothko, Pollock). You know how all of this bucked the bourgeois tradition of Academic Painting. </p><p>While all of this was going on, <i>another</i> movement broke the rules of Academic Painting by looking instead to the past. Beginning with the Symbolists, these painters valued aesthetics above all else, and it shows: their paintings are <i>dreamy</i>. Instead of Classical Greece, these painters looked to Northern Europe's past for inspiration, such as Arthurian tales and scenes from Shakespeare. They sometimes incorporated dreams, magic, the occult and explicit sexuality, and their art usually bled into concurrent design and craft movements. I think their closest comparison today might be the pop culture witchcraft revival. Spin-off groups included, among others, the Pre-Raphaelites in England, the Nabis in France, the Arts and Crafts movement (such as William Morris) and Art Nouveau movement, and The Decadents. Of course the division between the proto-Modernist Impressionists and neo-traditionalist Symbolists wasn't really so clear-cut-- there were in-betweenies like Gauguin and Mondrian, and each movement influenced the other and overlapped in philosophies. Impressionists borrowed Japonisme and unabashed, sensuous sexuality; Symbolists borrowed Impressionist and Fauvist techniques. Maurice Denis of The Nabis wrote, "<i>The profoundness of our emotions comes from the sufficiency of these
lines and these colors to explain themselves...everything is contained
in the beauty of the work.</i>" </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-oI0p2EWlhhhFXc2yJes8Anz01Xe40g1GFM1ile7idqd6aeg3kkj8fHdHP7Mb5gR8cVehTRJVznsqa9o2bycd-MbX1meBxE1N9-M_v-Jw7t0YyPTv5gtxMPfJcgZ2pLAayCho2CZn9Cg/s1706/aesthetic-timeline.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1378" data-original-width="1706" height="516" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-oI0p2EWlhhhFXc2yJes8Anz01Xe40g1GFM1ile7idqd6aeg3kkj8fHdHP7Mb5gR8cVehTRJVznsqa9o2bycd-MbX1meBxE1N9-M_v-Jw7t0YyPTv5gtxMPfJcgZ2pLAayCho2CZn9Cg/w640-h516/aesthetic-timeline.JPG" width="640" /></a> <br /></p><p>It was into this world that Elisabeth "Bessie" MacNicol was born. Though many of her siblings died very young, including her twin, her household was stabil. Her dad was a school principal and she and her sister played music together. She adored the outdoors. When she grew up she attended the Glasgow School of Arts and thrived. It was then that she was encouraged to study in Paris to develop her outstanding talents.</p><p>Studying academically in Paris was another exciting opportunity in an novel era, because it was only a few years prior that Académie Colarossi had opened its curriculum to women. They could study anatomy from nude models right alongside men (in some accounts they used segregated studios), a crucial part of serious art education which had never before been allowed to women in Europe. The many women who had, had done so quietly and illicitly through family connections or indulgent mentors. International female students flooded in for the coveted opportunity, including a notable contingency from Scotland, among them in 1893 was MacNicol. </p><p>She <i>hated</i> it. She got nothing from the instruction. Compared to Fra Newbery's Glasgow School she found the instruction "restrained and repressive." She felt the teachers were trying to reduce her to the style they wanted, not to encourage her (as you may remember from my post for Inktober Day 3, this is the same school attended by Cecilia Beaux around the same time period, and the two women's accounts couldn't be more different). But MacNicol didn't waste her time in Paris. She cut quite a few classes and instead soaked up the contemporary art in the city's galleries. She was deeply influenced by the Barbizon plein aire painters, the Impressionists, and James Abbott McNeill Whistler's aesthetic realism; judging by her work probably the Nabis and Paris's Art Nouveau designers as well.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip-WVlcOeZm91P_qofLteAzcoyMHLW0p6S3M1IPZdwKcs9bkThRYYi3x3y6DVStF4JmO_NJ6a4Il0db6t8dZaPOI4bU31d0qtcsnxupsqT19CqdpJ-46QUKZMWhVtAQC4bmnT-r-V_dKo/s495/french+girl.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="395" data-original-width="495" height="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip-WVlcOeZm91P_qofLteAzcoyMHLW0p6S3M1IPZdwKcs9bkThRYYi3x3y6DVStF4JmO_NJ6a4Il0db6t8dZaPOI4bU31d0qtcsnxupsqT19CqdpJ-46QUKZMWhVtAQC4bmnT-r-V_dKo/w640-h510/french+girl.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>French Girl</i>, by Bessie MacNicol, 1895. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bessie_MacNicol_-_French_Girl_1895.jpg">via</a>). <i>You can see the influence of Impressionist painters such as Berthe Morisot and of stylish Parisiennes in the Art Nouveau era</i>. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>When MacNicol returned to Glasgow she embraced the community of the Glasgow School of painters and their decorative pastoral realism. She<span class="vkIF2 public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr"> acquired a studio on St. Vincent Street, where fellow "Glasgow Girls" Helen Paxton Brown and Jessie M. King shared a studio, among others. From this time forward the influence in her work of other Glasgow artists such as Edward Atkinson Hornel, a fellow second wave painter who was a bit older and more established than MacNicol.</span></p><p><span class="vkIF2 public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr"> </span><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkQNYYDwRr9iLC2xImRSIKfNr6KX7GhE_A8v96JqXcsSYZTUDOY4a1FhquFqp3eF-CXXgpmGJrmgHsfrEWb6oLwkeBIRGHSvr_Im9ZUyxRjU8olXgRxL2PVViimtW53iM8LcVn_kdFOxU/s544/Edward+Atkinson+Hornel.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="544" data-original-width="451" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkQNYYDwRr9iLC2xImRSIKfNr6KX7GhE_A8v96JqXcsSYZTUDOY4a1FhquFqp3eF-CXXgpmGJrmgHsfrEWb6oLwkeBIRGHSvr_Im9ZUyxRjU8olXgRxL2PVViimtW53iM8LcVn_kdFOxU/w530-h640/Edward+Atkinson+Hornel.jpg" width="530" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Edward Atkinson Hornel</i>, by Bessie MacNicol, 1896. (image via Pinterest; another version <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?search=bessie+macnicol&title=Special%3ASearch&go=Go&ns0=1&ns6=1&ns12=1&ns14=1&ns100=1&ns106=1#/media/File:Bessie_MacNicol_-_E.A._Hornel_1896.jpg">here</a>). <i>MacNicol was especially influenced by Hornel's decorative realism. He used used his palette knife to scrape and spread his paint into heavily textured surfaces that he sometimes decorated with gold leaf and polychrome or other old techniques, but by the time MacNicol met him he's moved on to more naturalistic work with atmospheric colors and lush poetic themes. The time Hornel had spent living in Japan showed in his innovative compositions and his subjectmatter usually included myth and lore, such as his </i>Druids Bringing In The Misteltoe<i>. MacNicol sought him out at his studio when she spent the year at a seaside artist's colony called Kirkcudbright just outside Glasgow (where The Wicker Man was shot in 1973). Hornel commissioned this portrait from MacNicol. You can see the surface is especially scritchy-scratchy, a reference to his signature textured techniques.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p> A lifelong lover of the outdoors, MacNicol soon distinguished herself as a painter of radiant lighting effects such as dappled sunlight through leaves. Alternately she'd illuminate her indoor subjects with dim moody casts. She was clearly influenced by plein aire techniques, but I don't know if she practiced it, or incorporated a mix of outdoor studies and indoor studio work as many artists did. Oil paints and watercolors were her strong preference. <br /></p><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj9uF6MrNHZeEXq77IM5AXoSHx8lqMoI_l2BeMmRDvJVw5XvFgplkszsDtPJ288HcnL6kvgYQw5-WopQCy_STBOho0CTABcwv8zKZplGgyr1Ze9dux4oy_I6D5ud5ccqAqcHpJbWdDEw0/s1000/under+the+apple+tree.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="840" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj9uF6MrNHZeEXq77IM5AXoSHx8lqMoI_l2BeMmRDvJVw5XvFgplkszsDtPJ288HcnL6kvgYQw5-WopQCy_STBOho0CTABcwv8zKZplGgyr1Ze9dux4oy_I6D5ud5ccqAqcHpJbWdDEw0/w538-h640/under+the+apple+tree.jpg" width="538" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Under the Apple Tree</i>, by Bessie MacNicol, 1899. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bessie_MacNicol_-_Under_The_Apple_Tree_1899.jpg">via</a>). <i>This is one of MacNicol's most famous pieces, exemplifying the dappled lighting and outdoor portrait setting she was known for</i>. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOqpf35xTBsmG6eHwigWzAM9cMMsChgxrNvqO0dKtLgI5KzQNwUab4PRL_XKmkn9f6_NWrWp125a66CXku_SCCZDaGDvfrQmMP7K0MF6qmOgE0eKr4RbioRqJB3w3jiqc8okJbrr4d8WA/s640/Elizabeth+Reading.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="556" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOqpf35xTBsmG6eHwigWzAM9cMMsChgxrNvqO0dKtLgI5KzQNwUab4PRL_XKmkn9f6_NWrWp125a66CXku_SCCZDaGDvfrQmMP7K0MF6qmOgE0eKr4RbioRqJB3w3jiqc8okJbrr4d8WA/w556-h640/Elizabeth+Reading.jpg" width="556" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Elizabeth Reading</i>, by Bessie MacNicol, 1897. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:MacNicol_Elizabeth_reading.jpg">via</a>).</td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoYwue_eZ6SUmYqILhxeZ38qwaSOq4ZbBmfDyiCN57rsbxDAldGvxD4rOQgmmnQaBtohxAkvR0Uie9tIYWHeF3ev4hQ7TgRV_0cRkpnQWeLqvvtBxrqn1QmV0iZDRAccK5hnH92DHLaQg/s989/lamplight.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="989" data-original-width="832" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoYwue_eZ6SUmYqILhxeZ38qwaSOq4ZbBmfDyiCN57rsbxDAldGvxD4rOQgmmnQaBtohxAkvR0Uie9tIYWHeF3ev4hQ7TgRV_0cRkpnQWeLqvvtBxrqn1QmV0iZDRAccK5hnH92DHLaQg/w538-h640/lamplight.jpg" width="538" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Lamplight</i>, by Bessie MacNicol, c. 1900. (image via).</td></tr></tbody></table><p> <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1XcjD4VKuJXghzAPTo2eb4d66yDz6iO-etPWfSMgZmMZuBJi3qRMCTPORHqsiQ_bXkByNVTfj3d2EFlO_0CH7SGqNMuVSi82X__xkpA6xn7O4s1eLHHqEFmfWcpn0yBOJGDgnO0tQLi0/s1500/lady+in+a+lace+collar.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1153" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1XcjD4VKuJXghzAPTo2eb4d66yDz6iO-etPWfSMgZmMZuBJi3qRMCTPORHqsiQ_bXkByNVTfj3d2EFlO_0CH7SGqNMuVSi82X__xkpA6xn7O4s1eLHHqEFmfWcpn0yBOJGDgnO0tQLi0/w492-h640/lady+in+a+lace+collar.jpg" width="492" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Lady with a Lace Collar,</i> by Bessie MacNicol. (image <a href="https://www.lyonandturnbull.com/auction/lot/99-bessie-mcnicol-scottish-1869-1904/?lot=141969&so=0&st=&sto=0&au=8788&ef=&et=&ic=False&sd=1&pp=24&pn=4&g=1">via</a>). <i> </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><p><span class="vkIF2 public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">MacNicol married a physician and fellow artist named Andrew Frew in 1899 and moved to the Hillhead neighborhood, Glasgow, where she set up a home studio.</span><span class="vkIF2 public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr"> Her success continued and she
was very well-known in her lifetime, considered "the most important female artist in Glasgow." Her work was widely exhibited in her lifetime in Glasgow and London, and in some European and American cities. </span></p><p><span class="vkIF2 public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr"> </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhopI1nihj5f3JnsXn5cuwda_LdZi8Ln7lMkVimXJ9LeYKGunbLvq4_KCeh1V4BKWWM12p0I5Ho3dcJVE7vZrWYGfUcr3C57ToQEvKahf0TfBg2XCqY8swPZu2oFVvDroKWk9w1G3YQDfY/s530/in+the+greenwood.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="530" data-original-width="400" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhopI1nihj5f3JnsXn5cuwda_LdZi8Ln7lMkVimXJ9LeYKGunbLvq4_KCeh1V4BKWWM12p0I5Ho3dcJVE7vZrWYGfUcr3C57ToQEvKahf0TfBg2XCqY8swPZu2oFVvDroKWk9w1G3YQDfY/w482-h640/in+the+greenwood.jpg" width="482" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>In The Greenwood</i>, attributed to Bessie MacNicol. (image <a href="https://www.christies.com/lotfinder/paintings/attributed-to-bessie-macnicol-in-the-greenwood-5054844-details.aspx">via</a>).</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo3CGz4REFuG3lVpUbY91ffFD6S3Aap6JHNiOxA0_xFcX2z4zEfjtZ5wWMUjs5wBRPRybaUmvqcmPv37FP0Wczq7OEVkDnBU2BPDbhwEuYltItAtCygL6zH4V8xoVP0oQzwfwgcY412Bk/s570/the+visit.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="570" data-original-width="361" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo3CGz4REFuG3lVpUbY91ffFD6S3Aap6JHNiOxA0_xFcX2z4zEfjtZ5wWMUjs5wBRPRybaUmvqcmPv37FP0Wczq7OEVkDnBU2BPDbhwEuYltItAtCygL6zH4V8xoVP0oQzwfwgcY412Bk/w404-h640/the+visit.jpg" width="404" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Visit</i>, by Bessie MacNicol. (image <a href="https://www.mutualart.com/Artwork/THE-VISIT/BBFB77C1B09C117B">via</a>)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF4mdmwcHO9uHOAvIf1H5Y3xWju76rG7kPGwr8pzDC-dfnCWPq4BOXGqvGtvr7X5zWFLPaxT_6YBdPkvTkYNeVpxgJsRvNSV1RKhOL6JIq7FpYQTV3hDo0KcJJ0R-JT5neZ2U9WbDf-XY/s640/portrait+of+a+lady.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="450" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF4mdmwcHO9uHOAvIf1H5Y3xWju76rG7kPGwr8pzDC-dfnCWPq4BOXGqvGtvr7X5zWFLPaxT_6YBdPkvTkYNeVpxgJsRvNSV1RKhOL6JIq7FpYQTV3hDo0KcJJ0R-JT5neZ2U9WbDf-XY/w450-h640/portrait+of+a+lady.jpg" width="450" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Portrait of a Lady</i>, by Bessie MacNicol. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bessie_MacNicol_-_Portrait_Of_A_Lady.jpg">via</a>).</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p><span class="vkIF2 public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">Tragedy hit the couple in 1903 when MacNicol's parents died. The following year MacNicol died in childbirth or the late stages of pregnancy. She was just 34.</span></p><p><span class="vkIF2 public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr"><span class="vkIF2 public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr">Her
husband was devastated. He remarried four years later in 1908 but killed himself shortly
afterward. His grieving widow was then left with MacNicol's art and estate, so she did what anyone would do and sold it all off as fast as possible, within the year. Unfortunately that means the whearabouts of many pieces is unknown and or scattered across private collections (instead of displayed in museums and easily available online; many pieces of her art exist online only as obscure remnants of past auctions).
Some of it has even turned up in Vienna and St. Louis. But she does have pieces available to see in person at the Kelvingrove in Glasgow. We have almost no personal ephemera from her life, like photos and letters. </span><br /></span></p><p><span class="vkIF2 public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr"><br /></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Xf70FMRp-9g3XHkJOa5pt0hXg4xs4TgU_CnCGFEfka1akorjpl9mdpGtH3eT5UxGA0auyp3dfZ9PFW89r_FF4xCtaAW34ckVeaWelqaSL0WTUKEVfYVGIYAeKLcL2xGCMLTbGTkV5HA/s750/Portrait+of+Peggie.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="562" data-original-width="750" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Xf70FMRp-9g3XHkJOa5pt0hXg4xs4TgU_CnCGFEfka1akorjpl9mdpGtH3eT5UxGA0auyp3dfZ9PFW89r_FF4xCtaAW34ckVeaWelqaSL0WTUKEVfYVGIYAeKLcL2xGCMLTbGTkV5HA/w640-h480/Portrait+of+Peggie.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Portrait of Peggie</i>, by Bessie MacNicol, 1899. (image <a href="https://www.invaluable.com/auction-lot/bessie-macnicol-1869-1904-portrait-of-peggie-481-c-0b052daaaa">via</a>)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgchbuMRaFTvjfxBCDBx2QiG6hUUPAfcEXhx8lrtP-kU0h6TinUZokFcdzyhi8QsyCpcKP8MriTj05_fmJ-zc0qsKEBsmkRYI0r3HkvTnjktBcu1hNveedTxYM02ubUy3t95IPW9BqE_o4/s570/lady+with+a+fur+collar.Jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="570" data-original-width="364" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgchbuMRaFTvjfxBCDBx2QiG6hUUPAfcEXhx8lrtP-kU0h6TinUZokFcdzyhi8QsyCpcKP8MriTj05_fmJ-zc0qsKEBsmkRYI0r3HkvTnjktBcu1hNveedTxYM02ubUy3t95IPW9BqE_o4/w408-h640/lady+with+a+fur+collar.Jpeg" width="408" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Lady with a Fur Collar,</i> by Bessie MacNicol, 1904. (image <a href="https://www.mutualart.com/Artwork/Lady-with-a-Fur-Collar/4F078D9445EC4657">via</a>)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7XJLzBFIWPosUQ5U-CV4jEw2tC5SZmZx42i_VzPbcdsPQJLMvAV_6-79AlBFxeA5Dz7ar3FLn-H0y3fr03iUXEBm_DYg4HUcTJ-bk1MoaWvlRBbdpmeYDzUmX5kLVsEnp4N4naSI5UUU/s600/the+fur+coat.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="395" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7XJLzBFIWPosUQ5U-CV4jEw2tC5SZmZx42i_VzPbcdsPQJLMvAV_6-79AlBFxeA5Dz7ar3FLn-H0y3fr03iUXEBm_DYg4HUcTJ-bk1MoaWvlRBbdpmeYDzUmX5kLVsEnp4N4naSI5UUU/w422-h640/the+fur+coat.jpg" width="422" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Fur Coat</i>, by Bessie MacNicol. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bessie_MacNicol_-_The_Fur_Coat.jpg">via</a>). <i>This is a fun one; it looks like a magazine advertisement featuring a "Gibson Girl" or "Brinkley Girl." I love the way the snow is painted and the rich black form against it. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo7Uhm3bONh0_ku44pZZNzI9dBW7z6j4smNF0AhNkzVz7CdPpus-x_2K8NVgYb9PxIEUOi0aE7DiAXBRp_F4q5CDxDegh5a9vuK7PUj3utDqTFt9ow3c249pkwVWPzE9feZUSFHsWmPhc/s595/vanity.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="465" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo7Uhm3bONh0_ku44pZZNzI9dBW7z6j4smNF0AhNkzVz7CdPpus-x_2K8NVgYb9PxIEUOi0aE7DiAXBRp_F4q5CDxDegh5a9vuK7PUj3utDqTFt9ow3c249pkwVWPzE9feZUSFHsWmPhc/w500-h640/vanity.jpg" width="500" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Vanity</i>, by Bessie MacNicol, 1899. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bessie_MacNicol_-_Vanity_1899.jpg">via</a>). <i>This is an unusual piece because women didn't often paint nudes at this time. Paintings of nude pretty women tend to be very decorative and sensual, but interestingly this is the least decorative of her work that I've seen. Instead its mood is more studious and its draftsmanship more ambitious; it reminds me of some late pieces by Degas that MacNicol could reasonably have seen in Paris. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Here's my own drawing of Bessie MacNicol. I could find only one photo of her, likely because MacNicol's husband's new wife sold off her estate. I think it's from one of the Glasgow School's historic pageants, and it's kind of weird and unflattering. Luckily one of her self portraits remains, a dimly lit view of her face and neck against a black background. I wanted to replicate some of her famous lighting effects, so I used the self portrait as a basic reference, tweaked the shading a bit to appear outdoors, and then filled in details like her hair and shoulders that weren't visible the dark self portrait. I used a few of her portraits of women under trees as references to create the dappled lighting, background, headband with flowers, and clothes. I took the cue for the hair and decorative headband from the Pre-Raphaelites and other decorative Symbolist painters of MacNicols's era. <br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiha4mQtb6bInwVhLHHYdGoI8ustDK1YvStIBR52tbFS_oj5lPzD-9z9c_1nTyNpEvARGJ6NhjxEA5P52x2O-8cuOs2U1Va2gwkAh-lNFsHD2XABUxeNugbG2tghQdjYUZbWZuR2A0LOT0/s1600/6-Bessie+MacNicol-SAMPLE.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1058" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiha4mQtb6bInwVhLHHYdGoI8ustDK1YvStIBR52tbFS_oj5lPzD-9z9c_1nTyNpEvARGJ6NhjxEA5P52x2O-8cuOs2U1Va2gwkAh-lNFsHD2XABUxeNugbG2tghQdjYUZbWZuR2A0LOT0/w423-h640/6-Bessie+MacNicol-SAMPLE.jpeg" width="423" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-17360772021940284422020-11-11T11:15:00.000-05:002020-11-11T11:15:10.234-05:00Inktober Day 5: (coming soon!)<p> I completed a drawing for this day, but I'm not quite satisfied. I plan to go back in and re-work some sections, then post it along with a bio in the coming days. <br /></p>Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-73018196172342212202020-11-11T09:21:00.009-05:002020-11-11T16:10:01.530-05:00Inktober Day 4: Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller<p>When Meta Veaux Warrick Fuller showed up to train in Paris in 1899 at age 22 she earned herself the nickname, "the Delicate Sculptor of Horrors." It could have been that she presented such works to her mentor, Rodin, as <i>Man Eating His Heart,</i> or it could have been her taste for horror stories from her childhood. But Paris loved her and her sculpture became incredibly popular. Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec and Mary Cassatt organized a one-woman show for her work while several pieces were shown at the prestigious Salons. She thrived under the guidance of Rodin and his expressive conceptual style (you may have seen Rodin's most famous piece, <i>The Thinker</i>, a man hunched like he's sitting on the toilet, with his chin resting on his fist). <br /></p><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijECOHZWhwNMphAsWGMXz7sp6OGwMYKHdwnMdFTQ53t006a2XYIFoI0GmGaA5TL_syRaGoeXmi0phOMzngNUpKiGYVS2DdCxs7eSA2ycDozGuinlPrP0LpsbqHWthyphenhyphen2clqVPWTfJmn1HA/s800/the_wretched-1902.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="772" data-original-width="800" height="618" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijECOHZWhwNMphAsWGMXz7sp6OGwMYKHdwnMdFTQ53t006a2XYIFoI0GmGaA5TL_syRaGoeXmi0phOMzngNUpKiGYVS2DdCxs7eSA2ycDozGuinlPrP0LpsbqHWthyphenhyphen2clqVPWTfJmn1HA/w640-h618/the_wretched-1902.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Wretched</i>, by Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller, 1902. (image <a href="https://arthistoryproject.com/artists/meta-vaux-warrick-fuller/the-wretched/">via</a>). <i>You
can really see the influence of Fuller's teacher Rodin. Rodin was known
for combining a slight amount of looseness or sketchiness (i.e. the
lumpy surface texture) with expressive poses to create incredibly
emotional, evocative sculptures.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Another crucial Paris friend who shaped her future was W.E.B. Du Bois. They met through a family friend (the famous Black painter Henry Ossawa Tanner) who let Fuller stay at his house when she was refused lodging at a women's club because she was Black. Through them she amassed a social circle of Black intellectuals, something she had missed since she left her home in Philadelphia, where there was a thriving Black middle class community. She, Tanner and Du Bois discussed the importance of creating an art that centered Black experiences and presented Black identity with pride. </p><p>She was hesitant at first, concerned that it would limit her scope as an artist. She was already battling the constrictive "woman artist" label and didn't want to be constricted even further. But Fuller began to incorporate painful themes of Black experience into her repertoire of "delicate horrors" and was relieved to find that the Parisian public didn't find her gender to be an impediment to appreciating these difficult pieces. Parisians did express shock that a woman could have created such "masculine works of primitive power," or depict such "horror, pain and sorrow," but the pieces were appreciated and her reputation flourished. <br /></p><p> Returning to Philadelphia in 1903 was tough. The art world rejected Fuller because she was Black and her sculpture didn't get much appreciation. But she kept working and secured a large Federal Government commission (the first Black woman ever to receive one) for the Jamestown colony Tricentennial, to create plaster figures and dioramas depicting the Black lives in Jamestown from arrival of slaves through modern life, showing Black businessmen, newly freed slaves building a house, and a college commencement among other scenes. Other work of hers was exhibited at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts and in the segregated "Negro area" of several World Fairs. </p><p>Her work at this time that centered Black experiences with empathy and value, was absolutely revolutionary. She didn't focus on glorifying the heroes of Black history, as much as to convey <i>experience</i> as something worth portraying, boldly in bronze. She worked directly from a point of view which she never tempered. That is, her sculptures didn't say "<i>please allow me to change your point of view, here's why you should.</i>" Instead her sculpture said, "<i>this is what I've seen, this is how I feel-- here, now you feel it too."</i> The shock and sorrow of violent acts were presented in the tradition of Parisian sculpture, as part of the long tradition of expressing shock and sorrow of any other group, right back to antiquity. The everyday lives of Black people she treated as traditional genre painting, neither idealizing nor pandering, but simply showing it because it was absorbing and worthwhile. This just wasn't done at the time; the pressure-cooker of raging racism on one side and respectability politics on the other had largely prevented such a reasonable endeavor. <br /></p><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4akVg4ThWi8x91OtQlfxlEbaBh16db4y-1IcXWYrxMguSbQZZBMZ7pyM-GxDvqicC09TeigEJ3kFM_OcvlrcqPmPtM0ZByzgYrTEutw_cB9PTXKMeXIlspiHD9_9TjxAAcc7tT82TfX8/s550/two+busts.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="356" data-original-width="550" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4akVg4ThWi8x91OtQlfxlEbaBh16db4y-1IcXWYrxMguSbQZZBMZ7pyM-GxDvqicC09TeigEJ3kFM_OcvlrcqPmPtM0ZByzgYrTEutw_cB9PTXKMeXIlspiHD9_9TjxAAcc7tT82TfX8/w640-h414/two+busts.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two sculptures by Meta Vaux Warrick Harris. (image <a href="http://www.findartinfo.com/english/art-pictures/7/33/0/Plaster/page/47.html">via</a>). <i>I couldn't find much information about these but they are lovely. I would guess they're from the early 1900s. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo6iUPpqRZpaFsk9gjRFokQpmyZbGmXifOh6bw3UH0vNQdNndgUB9bPFnRFnA7-n4DXlTFqndmKflBGzso11Ljf28NUGpSbP-yNFXbVqvi9UILcYwUnVv1Vf-yU_J18lxYW82spCQuadU/s1024/Self-Portrait-1001x1024.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1001" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo6iUPpqRZpaFsk9gjRFokQpmyZbGmXifOh6bw3UH0vNQdNndgUB9bPFnRFnA7-n4DXlTFqndmKflBGzso11Ljf28NUGpSbP-yNFXbVqvi9UILcYwUnVv1Vf-yU_J18lxYW82spCQuadU/w626-h640/Self-Portrait-1001x1024.jpg" width="626" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Self Portrait</i> by Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller, undated. (image <a href="https://danforth.framingham.edu/exhibition/meta-fuller/">via</a>). <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>In 1909 Fuller's husband moved the family from Boston out to Framingham, MA, a small town outside the city. He planned for Fuller to give up sculpture to be a full time mother and society hostess (the newlyweds would go on to have three children together). But Fuller saw sculpture as her divine calling. She continued sculpting at the back of the house, which her husband <i>hated</i>. Dr. Solomon Fuller, a psychiatrist, really should've known better because when he proposed in 1907, after knowing Fuller only a month, she accepted but insisted up front on a three-year engagement so that she could develop her art career before settling down. What did he think was going to happen? <br /></p><p>To make matters worse the next year nearly all of her work was destroyed in a warehouse fire. She was devastated for years by the loss of her life's work compounded with her husband's lack of support. <i>"You never should have left Paris,"</i> wrote an old friend dolefully. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvXUvapdwFuy5i-PCDszSOb8cO1haYGkN-Cgd1sfJn2-R40coxe3P15UtBNV_r6SgNPzwtmS_eEQple-G2EjHWA0vjNlzHaF-V8aAF0WEAc9sIKNM8Ll6IBjCPLy36Mj1zWaro-qVDBIc/s1292/emancipation.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1292" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvXUvapdwFuy5i-PCDszSOb8cO1haYGkN-Cgd1sfJn2-R40coxe3P15UtBNV_r6SgNPzwtmS_eEQple-G2EjHWA0vjNlzHaF-V8aAF0WEAc9sIKNM8Ll6IBjCPLy36Mj1zWaro-qVDBIc/w640-h356/emancipation.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Emancipation</i> by Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller, views from three different angles, 1913. (images via <a href="https://artoutdl.wordpress.com/2019/02/28/monumental-sculptures-by-fern-cunningham-and-meta-vaux-warrick-fuller-combined-forces-in-harriet-tubman-square/">here</a>, Pinterest and <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/antydiluvian/8308687374">here</a>). <i>The
monument stands in Boston and was commissioned to celebrate the 50 year
anniversary of Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation (i.e. the legal end
of slavery). Most representations of Emancipation, especially at the
time, involved broken shackles, humble kneeling men who lift their heads
dramatically toward heaven. There's also often a priest-like white man
standing over. Fuller's is quite different, featuring a man and woman
standing proudly around a tree with a third woman weeping on the other
side of the tree. </i><i>Fuller wrote, "I represented the race by a male and a female figure standing under a
tree the branches of which are the fingers of Fate grasping at them to
draw them back into the fateful clutches of hatred. [There is also]
Humanity weeping over her suddenly freed children who, beneath the
gnarled fingers of Fate, step forth into the world unafraid."</i></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxkyqRvEfD-dotgiVezvzByTWTGqHnkW3UF2OHJ4F0gYykf-FjC2Rgnr_oWyQBH7OO-2-FuGJWMXG-RLs_jfwQjIFXB96HSquCKmlo7W8LctlSo81s8oEp5PXF-YY8U2JQt5GKFuqCnA/s1024/Young-Boy-683x1024.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="683" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxkyqRvEfD-dotgiVezvzByTWTGqHnkW3UF2OHJ4F0gYykf-FjC2Rgnr_oWyQBH7OO-2-FuGJWMXG-RLs_jfwQjIFXB96HSquCKmlo7W8LctlSo81s8oEp5PXF-YY8U2JQt5GKFuqCnA/w426-h640/Young-Boy-683x1024.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bust of a Young Boy, by Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller, 1913. (image <a href="https://danforth.framingham.edu/exhibition/meta-fuller/">via</a>) <i>As a young woman Beaux had studied portrait art at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts before studying in Paris. She continued occasionally with portraiture alongside her allegorical art throughout her career.</i> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuHXE3IYSwRVpydzama6CHZFEV0Y1fdWTC7w6i-b6UUZ7yAXBqcYt41kD8nzNvLLRZzMf4mzCgIuohKhJtkgjPTSYroCyyneZyBD1w-UNG_puSYw9bKqOO36Pzu87vVMkwoNDaASwC7EY/s550/sorrow.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="533" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuHXE3IYSwRVpydzama6CHZFEV0Y1fdWTC7w6i-b6UUZ7yAXBqcYt41kD8nzNvLLRZzMf4mzCgIuohKhJtkgjPTSYroCyyneZyBD1w-UNG_puSYw9bKqOO36Pzu87vVMkwoNDaASwC7EY/w388-h400/sorrow.jpg" width="388" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Sorrow</i> or <i>Mother and Child</i> by Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller, 1914. (image <a href="https://www.invaluable.com/auction-lot/meta-vaux-warrick-fuller-1877-1968-sorrow-11-c-s2cqkpers2#">via</a>). <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p>She found Framingham to be somewhat hospitable and supportive of her art (many of her public commissions are still displayed around the town), but also quietly hostile. Her white neighbors started a petition to try to force the Fuller family to move. Despite Fuller's increasing dedication to religious themes and involvement in church productions, her family eventually left their church due to racial discrimination. While in Framingham Fuller wrote plays and designed sets and costumes for Black theater groups back in Boston. She wrote poetry and painted. She became highly involved in activism for women's suffrage as well (but stopped once she realized the movement was exclusionary toward Black women). But she was isolated from her old contacts in the Black intellectual circles of Philadelphia and Paris. Preeminent members of Black society visited their home, but she was feeling cut off. Between this and her time spent in domestic work, her sculpture production slowed. Still, most of what remains today after the 1910 warehouse fire is from this period. By then, with children, Fuller was financially dependent on her husband and stuck in a depressing situation. World Was I began and her mood sank further. <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYHAW_fu2Xzc1lj3spD6WbYtG2rTknLxkn-01beTaef9yjBU0hJ9xWGfTAgIXe7raf0vTxNOZ_cmXEWFm8vaeGeTKoZglrnpLZfI_gVnqY1pLa5LOWdt4UM4UDqW6Qu7kvNRC0TKyfoCY/s1024/Danse-Macabre-768x1024.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYHAW_fu2Xzc1lj3spD6WbYtG2rTknLxkn-01beTaef9yjBU0hJ9xWGfTAgIXe7raf0vTxNOZ_cmXEWFm8vaeGeTKoZglrnpLZfI_gVnqY1pLa5LOWdt4UM4UDqW6Qu7kvNRC0TKyfoCY/w480-h640/Danse-Macabre-768x1024.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Danse Macabre</i> by Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller, 1914. (image <a href="https://danforth.framingham.edu/exhibition/meta-fuller/">via</a>). <i>"Danse
Macabre" means "the dance of death," and it has been a theme in
European art since the Middle Ages. The "dance" is usually shown uniting
everyone, king or peasant. This was sculpted during World War I, a war
that changed the generations's understanding of war and carnage. People
enlisted expecting dignified battle and instead found thousands upon
thousands of boys used as cannon fodder, living and dying in
muddy trenches. The Danse Macabre has always struck me as the kind of
poisonous sarcasm that is sometimes the only thing left to express, like
when someone is so horrified they laugh. The cloak is beautifully
sculpted, both enhancing the movement of the dance and resembling an
engulfing ball of flame.</i> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5NqmMsG_KCt8FioZJ66GLruh5LcqDsbWh7FY5AI1mvvmtK7I71fUB1S5xvyKtJOajAHf8_D1pviubIPeUNv1uVQtHxDJ8Tzv-qg3Y4b0lknfd3pwIENs1eqFwhX2Xfzhg_rCqyXiYfN8/s768/1915_Immigrant-768x695.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="695" data-original-width="768" height="580" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5NqmMsG_KCt8FioZJ66GLruh5LcqDsbWh7FY5AI1mvvmtK7I71fUB1S5xvyKtJOajAHf8_D1pviubIPeUNv1uVQtHxDJ8Tzv-qg3Y4b0lknfd3pwIENs1eqFwhX2Xfzhg_rCqyXiYfN8/w640-h580/1915_Immigrant-768x695.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sculpture (now lost) called <i>Immigrant in America</i>, created for an exhibition about immigration. Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller, 1915. (image <a href="https://unladylike2020.com/profile/meta-warrick-fuller/">via</a>) <i>These sorts of commissions for world fairs and government-sponsored exhibitions were Fuller's bread and butter. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhmbb8J5RQjshLDfh1KOiXcU4Xn6APRuu-CzUpHdTJ8bzYQKhdDfu4-G64_uSPhyphenhyphenLYmmwJ60DIj3C5nzLNigIBOspglyNxNlDhQ_DizHYMNev8Hx3K0FEaVgVFSE1tgx4O_eAGRWLRnOY/s800/peace_halting_the_ruthlessness_of_war-1917-trivium-art-history-1.800x0.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="608" data-original-width="800" height="486" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhmbb8J5RQjshLDfh1KOiXcU4Xn6APRuu-CzUpHdTJ8bzYQKhdDfu4-G64_uSPhyphenhyphenLYmmwJ60DIj3C5nzLNigIBOspglyNxNlDhQ_DizHYMNev8Hx3K0FEaVgVFSE1tgx4O_eAGRWLRnOY/w640-h486/peace_halting_the_ruthlessness_of_war-1917-trivium-art-history-1.800x0.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peace Halting The Ruthlessness of War</i>, by Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller, 1917. (image <a href="https://arthistoryproject.com/artists/meta-vaux-warrick-fuller/peace-halting-the-ruthlessness-of-war/">via</a>). <i>This
was created at the close of World War I. This use of allegory
(representing Peace and War as individual people) was much more
traditional than in her more famous </i>Ethiopia <i>four years later. The efforts of Peace to stop
Ruthlessness look pretty futile in this sculpture, and that's how it
must have felt at the time; that's how it still usually feels. I love
how War on its horse looks like it's rising from hell or out of the sea.
</i><i>The composition is really beautiful; there's a lot going on but it isn't crowded, just a nice sense of movement and form. </i> </td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbu2-3030F4gx31Q9AGWxDpo8lhTkyZ6z0N_v-XXL_w3io0g6WOQWQeg6icmP4eEMk_u5b1kyIxaJiL4CmkKjtAII6gfK_nhhRGB0uYPwHBUbkgpycQIP4SIU83LefIMSBK0whuQyawgg/s506/unknown+bust.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="506" data-original-width="347" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbu2-3030F4gx31Q9AGWxDpo8lhTkyZ6z0N_v-XXL_w3io0g6WOQWQeg6icmP4eEMk_u5b1kyIxaJiL4CmkKjtAII6gfK_nhhRGB0uYPwHBUbkgpycQIP4SIU83LefIMSBK0whuQyawgg/w274-h400/unknown+bust.jpeg" width="274" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sculpture bust by Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller (image <a href="https://alchetron.com/Meta-Vaux-Warrick-Fuller#meta-vaux-warrick-fuller-b9f92e67-baed-422c-aef8-6062448ad09-resize-750.jpeg">via</a>). <i>I couldn't find information on this sculpture, but it might be a self portrait because that looks like her nose.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrRzqe1oYx-GcthF2wdLwjJrpcmtv037wpx2lTmaloaXQKlJ93Jrp8ucZoX7wHmJscvRInfna2olaKbVoe735_x0Thx64A_6DbYb-u0G6-9zoXs-vz54wN6S1tdgLsrddjVh81S7L3OMQ/s1024/Meta_Vaux_Warrick_Fuller%252C_Mary_Turner%252C_1919.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="400" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrRzqe1oYx-GcthF2wdLwjJrpcmtv037wpx2lTmaloaXQKlJ93Jrp8ucZoX7wHmJscvRInfna2olaKbVoe735_x0Thx64A_6DbYb-u0G6-9zoXs-vz54wN6S1tdgLsrddjVh81S7L3OMQ/w156-h400/Meta_Vaux_Warrick_Fuller%252C_Mary_Turner%252C_1919.jpg" width="156" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Mary Turner</i>, by Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller. Painted plaster sculpture, 1919. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Meta_Vaux_Warrick_Fuller,_Mary_Turner,_1919.jpg">via</a>) <i>MaryTurner had been murdered in Georgia by a seething mob the year before
this sculpture was created. It was one of the most gruesome lynchings
ever, and frankly one of the most elaborately violent murders I've ever
heard of, anywhere. The mob had been searching for a Black laborer who
had shot a white plantation owner who had beaten and exploited him. The
man fled and vengeful white mob began murdering any black bystander they
suspected might have anything to do with helping him, which was at
least 13 people. Mary Turner's husband was one such victim. Turner was
eight months pregnant at the time. She cried out publicly at the
injustice and shamed the murderers, threatening to have them arrested.
The mob, then consisting of around 700 white people, tortured her then
murdered her unborn baby and then her, then mutilated the corpses. The
mob continued their "manhunt" and committing more murders, causing over
500 people to flee the area in fear of their lives. No justice was ever
done for any of the victims.</i> <i>White newspapers characterized Turner's protestations about her husband's murder as "attitude." The NAACP
brought the lynchings to the attention of Congress to introduce
anti-lynching legislation. It passed the House of Representatives
overwhelmingly, but then Southern senators united to filibuster the
legislation repeatedly. It never passed. It's especially lucky that
Fuller memorialized Turner in bronze because as the decades passed the
episode was erased: local museums and historical organizations denied
knowing anything about it and schools didn't teach it. There was a
grassroots effort in the 1990s-2000s to re-research the event, publicly
memorialize it and educate the public. Fuller herself likely would have
been made aware through the NAACP newspaper's investigative reporting.
[As an aside, I can't imagine a more terrifying assignment than being
that investigator sent by the NAACP].</i> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Black soldiers and workers returning from World War I had finished the bloody battle that was ostensibly for freedom and democracy, only to return to an America that was even <i>worse</i> in terms of racial oppression and violence. Conservative whites who had been steeped in the violence and trauma of trench warfare, aggrieved by social upheavals like women's suffrage and youth culture, their daily lives and hopes held in interminable suspension by WWI and the flu pandemic, released their pent-up rage and fear on Black people. In the 1920s white emotions exploded with hair-trigger massacres, lynch mobs, deadly race riots (not only in the South) and rampant domestic terrorism. The KKK, which was largely fading, came back with a vengeance, nationwide, more powerful than it had ever been. Social reform and community building became nearly impossible in an atmosphere where failure to maintain the illusion of docile submission, even so much as eye contact, could result in multiple murder. <br /></p><p>Black people migrated north to big cities in droves,
seeking employment and and a better social situation. That made Harlem
the unofficial capitol of Black American culture. Just as Fuller moved to Framingham the Harlem Renaissance
was aleady beginning in New York. Black identity could
suddenly be big and bold, shouted from the rooftops in poetry, music,
activism and fashion. Even something as simple as living a bourgeois life was a deeply transgressive part of the movement. The phenomenon spread across the country to other
cities, to Black colleges, Black churches, small Black towns founded by
freed slaves-- anywhere that Black people had made safe-ish communities.
That's why some historians prefer "The Negro Movement," but I, like
most people, prefer the poetic "Harlem Renaissance." <br /></p><p>Artists such as Augusta Savage turned to Fuller's
work as inspiration. Other artists took inspiration from folk art
and African art, rejecting the idea of upholding Eurocentric traditions. <a href="https://www.thoughtco.com/aaron-douglas-4707870">Aaron Douglas</a> (perhaps my favorite), for instance, married a cubist-folk style with African
motifs in his murals, looking to Latino artists like Diego Rivera for inspiration; while Jacob Lawrence's paintings blended German expressionism with
bright African colors and modern American subject-matter. The art world changed immensely between 1910 and 1940 ,
and Harlem changed right along with it, with influences
changing from fauvism, cubism and expressionism at the beginning of the movement, to surrealism, socialist realism, and
abstract expressionism toward the end. But artists of the Negro Movement always
offered an interpretation via Black identity, from African-inspired or
jazz-inspired style to cultural commentary. </p><p>An influential writer
and chronicler of the Harlem Renaissance cemented the idea that Fuller
ushered in the movement with her <i>Ethiopia Awakening</i> in 1921. But that
isn't quite true; the timeline is a bit off. And it was her <i>entire</i> body
of work dating back to 1900 which had such influence. This same
writer also expressed disappointment in Fuller as a black artist, however, because
although she dedicated herself to showing Black experiences, she was
also dedicated to the traditional European style of Rodin. The reduced Fuller's legacy in art history to something of a
"one-hit wonder" phenomenon of <i>Ethiopia</i>. </p><p>Fuller was older than many famous Harlem Renaissance artists, some of whom weren't even born until 1915, and her work is more old-fashioned. If her sculptures had a soundtrack it would be French Impressionist piano; the iconic art of the movement would sound like jazz. Among the stodgier moments of the movement were somber memorials to the dignified heroes of Black history, such as relief sculptures and memorial plaques which documented individuals and events in a straightforward style. This history certainly needed memorializing, but as artwork I prefer Fuller's experiential, more conceptual take. Despite her Edwardian style I actually find Fuller's approach to be more forward-thinking in this sense than some of the Harlem Renaissance's more literal takes on "Black issues." <br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxDMjbac7FfL4wvMgifqdAOznz2duAUrUr4Aq4-Z3uhPHxe6ihYwixOl6nD7CqRMb53YBfWuQbp574qs5mXeKuA1E6jnM-nea8mQMhKNncdq8b52_FsAesbcEtoSEYyFfiDLSG89fkwJo/s1880/ethiopia-duo.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1880" data-original-width="1244" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxDMjbac7FfL4wvMgifqdAOznz2duAUrUr4Aq4-Z3uhPHxe6ihYwixOl6nD7CqRMb53YBfWuQbp574qs5mXeKuA1E6jnM-nea8mQMhKNncdq8b52_FsAesbcEtoSEYyFfiDLSG89fkwJo/w265-h400/ethiopia-duo.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two versions of <i>Ethiopia</i>, by Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller, 1921 (Encyclopedia Britannica puts the date at 1914. Some versions of this existed before 1921). (left image <a href="https://nmaahc.si.edu/meta-vaux-warrick-fuller-ethiopia-1921">via</a>, right image source unavailable). <i>This piece was later retitled </i>Ethiopia Awakening<i>, by someone other than Fuller. I have no idea if she approved or not. However the added "Awakening" helped the sculpture serve its retroactive purpose of ushering in the Harlem Renaissance. It had originally been commissioned by W.E.B. Du Bois to symbolize the musical and industrial contributions of Black people to the US, as part of a larger 1921 exhibition called "Americans of Negro Lineage." Since Fuller had studied under Rodin and had made complex emotionally-driven group sculptures similar to Rodin's famous </i>Burghers of Calais<i>, Du Bois probably expected a similar take. But Fuller used the Egyptian figure as an allegory, and its striking simplicity have given it enduring fame. The one flexed hand is asymmetrical, something you never see in ancient Egyptian sculpture, and brings the sculpture squarely into the present. It's also sweet and delicate-- another unexpected twist on the figure of a Pharoah or Queen. </i>“Here was a group," <i>said Fuller</i>, "who had once made history and now after a long sleep
was awaking, gradually unwinding the bandage of its mummied past and
looking out on life again, expectant but unafraid and with at least a
graceful gesture.” <i>Because of the allegorical figure representing the African American people, the sculpture is considered to be the first "pan-African American" art. Full disclosure, I grabbed that last factoid from the Smithsonian's site, but I don't quite understand what they mean by "pan-African American." Something representing all African-Americans as a people? The first incidence of pan-Africanism (of the international Alfrican diaspora, I assume), in America? I had trouble learning about this term and its use in 1920s art history because there was another movement in the 1960s called "pan-Africanism" that had more to do with African independence from colonialism. If I had to guess, it's linked to Garveyism and the idea of uniting and lifting up the Black race across different countries. Before the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s this was the most prevalent concept in Black activism in the early 20th century. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Around 1928 Fuller actually created a secret sculpture studio. Without her husband finding out, she bought property with her inheritance, oversaw the construction and maintenance of the property, and would sculpt and paint there for the next 40 years. She taught sculpture classes here as well. She turned her attention to religious art (still often with Black themes, such as a Crucifiction dedicated to a four Black girls killed in a church bombing in Birmingham). When he did eventually discover the studio, he underhandedly told her he was impressed-- not with her dedication to sculpture, but that she managed to do a real estate deal all by herself. He looks like a pretty bad husband on paper, but I don't know what their relationship was actually like. In the decade preceding his death, when he was ill and blind, Fuller dedicated herself to caretaking. After he died in 1953 she remained in Framingham, continuing to exhibit her work at Howard University, Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, and other institutions, until her death in 1968.<br /> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhljhyt_UetgR26tp_j6HBJDVkzkdmJP3LbSy7MQmaT1cGduxKxFqP9sr1Xr9Iugxr4995vcqyfrrhv8kOmxXiDsPl4Ukoj6Jn02c_3RQNMdvbCn53St_MXaIn-9TANQWSEihhVoetNfag/s1700/studios.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1700" data-original-width="1440" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhljhyt_UetgR26tp_j6HBJDVkzkdmJP3LbSy7MQmaT1cGduxKxFqP9sr1Xr9Iugxr4995vcqyfrrhv8kOmxXiDsPl4Ukoj6Jn02c_3RQNMdvbCn53St_MXaIn-9TANQWSEihhVoetNfag/w542-h640/studios.jpg" width="542" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meta
Vaux Warrick Fuller in her home studio in Framingham (bottom) and the
reassembled studio in the museum in Danforth (top). Yeah, you can visit
it. (images via <a href="https://www.bostonglobe.com/metro/globelocal/2019/05/02/danforth-museum-blossoms-new-home/sxftUdkyVfTQ9Llj9eAz6K/story.html">here</a> and <a href="https://danforth.framingham.edu/exhibition/meta-fuller/">here</a>). <i>I think this is the "secret studio" but it might be the one she'd built previously at the back of the house</i>. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL7VElmjiCezruCYMHWa5Jg9FsJP27aL-dtQl7IyUvXLGdbcAOW8NEAMf3iSe9CVHhW-XcqgF4WS-Ldi5Hwg9QSfq_93-hzobEkK00lvehRpMhoBls5EKxJ-73LUF8VKkHXv9V5fUDcfY/s352/jason.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="352" data-original-width="264" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL7VElmjiCezruCYMHWa5Jg9FsJP27aL-dtQl7IyUvXLGdbcAOW8NEAMf3iSe9CVHhW-XcqgF4WS-Ldi5Hwg9QSfq_93-hzobEkK00lvehRpMhoBls5EKxJ-73LUF8VKkHXv9V5fUDcfY/w480-h640/jason.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason by Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller, undated. Painted plaster. (image <a href="https://wirthsculpture.wordpress.com/2009/05/26/meta-warrick-fuller/">via</a>). <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><p></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTeIWuOj34Mwq7XBNsJi2iD7vPCPnxSuKYqvtn4K2ugf5z3PGxb6xryERCcBMxYKhj7ulm1xtM8BLrWbODZZgn0636EA0QmdVWzwA40DEZ4mipijzHkEARe73MMlQx5wXnVjbSZi-rEU4/s1198/lossy-page1-958px-%2522Dark_Hero%2522_-_NARA_-_559060.tif.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="958" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTeIWuOj34Mwq7XBNsJi2iD7vPCPnxSuKYqvtn4K2ugf5z3PGxb6xryERCcBMxYKhj7ulm1xtM8BLrWbODZZgn0636EA0QmdVWzwA40DEZ4mipijzHkEARe73MMlQx5wXnVjbSZi-rEU4/s320/lossy-page1-958px-%2522Dark_Hero%2522_-_NARA_-_559060.tif.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dark Hero, by Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller. (Image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:%22Dark_Hero%22_-_NARA_-_559060.tif">via</a>)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTum535FvThcbfuvcsdSBMryktU-pcnziSOVE54kVjMH_7D1cSEYtP9A7HmrSFfzsIsLHJzqiRxX11QnyAEui7Qd0_bCIDSdC8gcufVazqkhSdg9cFe2eGKNLdnnzmwAgmEjtvTtFOTLA/s802/lazy_bones-1930-trivium-art-history-1.800x0.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="802" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTum535FvThcbfuvcsdSBMryktU-pcnziSOVE54kVjMH_7D1cSEYtP9A7HmrSFfzsIsLHJzqiRxX11QnyAEui7Qd0_bCIDSdC8gcufVazqkhSdg9cFe2eGKNLdnnzmwAgmEjtvTtFOTLA/s320/lazy_bones-1930-trivium-art-history-1.800x0.png" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Lazy Bones</i>, by Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller, 1930. (image <a href="https://arthistoryproject.com/artists/meta-vaux-warrick-fuller/lazy-bones/">via</a>). <br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDbQD9hNHLfcZLvMrPjeIG5W3mLSKBKAnw7UWCTRMSmahaElp6RiSm-mae9P-faL7C8DrRtjNiRVDSNawnl1Wjx3lWSQv7cvEFpd1lj1ExmT069rJYoOB3B8SNa4HVnucRTC01JA6ocUU/s821/reverie-1930.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="821" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDbQD9hNHLfcZLvMrPjeIG5W3mLSKBKAnw7UWCTRMSmahaElp6RiSm-mae9P-faL7C8DrRtjNiRVDSNawnl1Wjx3lWSQv7cvEFpd1lj1ExmT069rJYoOB3B8SNa4HVnucRTC01JA6ocUU/s320/reverie-1930.png" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Reverie</i>, by Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller, 1930. (image <a href="https://arthistoryproject.com/artists/meta-vaux-warrick-fuller/reverie/">via</a>). </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinQrMg_h000RhThlDjpXxIP-Iu-jqgre6e3U07nUTINiJq7COLlGZcwrnP5PwJ6m9qDFvUvoSGfLir3Aehz6xrk25ys554FB-h-gxgK3wak6aOYwrdOwM3HXfMIfapU0oib0OSRn5EXSI/s800/talking_skull-1939.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="517" data-original-width="800" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinQrMg_h000RhThlDjpXxIP-Iu-jqgre6e3U07nUTINiJq7COLlGZcwrnP5PwJ6m9qDFvUvoSGfLir3Aehz6xrk25ys554FB-h-gxgK3wak6aOYwrdOwM3HXfMIfapU0oib0OSRn5EXSI/w640-h414/talking_skull-1939.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Talking Skull</i>, by Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller, 1939. (image <a href="https://arthistoryproject.com/artists/meta-vaux-warrick-fuller/talking-skull/">via</a>). <i>The title comes from an African folk tale in which a boy finds a talking skull. "Tongue brought me here," the skull tells the boy-- tongue, meaning talking-- "and if you're not careful tongue will bring you here." The boy doesn't understand but he runs to the village and tells everyone he sees that he found a talking skull. They behead him for lying and the skull reiterates the warning. In another version he brings them back to the skull but it won't say anything. Everyone leaves and the skull says, "you talk too much." Given the date (the beginning of WWII) it might be about history repeating itself. Of course, it could simply be about secrets and being indiscreet. She wasn't a stranger to keeping secrets like her studio or having to wear social masks at times because of her race and gender. It may be an exploration of life and death, or of confronting lost ancestry and the passage of time.</i> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p>Here's my drawing of Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller for Inktober. There are some good photographic portraits and snapshots of her around but I ended up using the hazy one in the studio that I showed above, because the atmospheric lighting effect would make a good drawing. I also thought such an incredibly lightweight lighting effect (especially in her hair) would be an interesting way to portray a sculptor whose work is solid mass. There's not much data there-- you can barely make out her features-- but I was able to use other pictures of her to fill in the details. I cropped the pose in a way that uses the implied movement and drama that Fuller's sculptures often employed. And I tried to keep the pen markings in little directional clusters that recall the hand-worked surfaces of her clay sculptures. <br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgciYpSQCCgbxMjxobXpVXA4BHF0hzvrMl8ykuVmU-rgno7Eq9xaCQXnALnL7ec9d_QF88BEr0cPJuvo4N3sAe8A_8ONacG5etgaiUEkVvbILfOpnCKPhEJKNhlXafJ1HZdfXf3K85wqkA/s1600/4-Meta+Vaux+Warrick+Fuller-SAMPLE.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1058" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgciYpSQCCgbxMjxobXpVXA4BHF0hzvrMl8ykuVmU-rgno7Eq9xaCQXnALnL7ec9d_QF88BEr0cPJuvo4N3sAe8A_8ONacG5etgaiUEkVvbILfOpnCKPhEJKNhlXafJ1HZdfXf3K85wqkA/w424-h640/4-Meta+Vaux+Warrick+Fuller-SAMPLE.jpeg" width="424" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><br /><br />Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-70949821353338538242020-11-09T18:20:00.003-05:002020-11-09T19:32:41.781-05:00Inktober Day 3: Cecilia Beaux<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSVpg5ut5b-qtwAgCxvZmSkgTIXH-X8nzISxtsF01dWL8ZYMT0G7vwiB5iqAVfWOW8-UQVzyusS_URmveC14LXTwCiRhc14W281hn-sz6XOUjclM05aidpYLDKJyw0Vq8-gxpbbtChZN0/s1198/872px-Cecilia_Beaux_-_Admiral_Sir_David_Beatty%252C_Lord_Beatty_-_1923.6.4_-_Smithsonian_American_Art_Museum.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="872" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSVpg5ut5b-qtwAgCxvZmSkgTIXH-X8nzISxtsF01dWL8ZYMT0G7vwiB5iqAVfWOW8-UQVzyusS_URmveC14LXTwCiRhc14W281hn-sz6XOUjclM05aidpYLDKJyw0Vq8-gxpbbtChZN0/w466-h640/872px-Cecilia_Beaux_-_Admiral_Sir_David_Beatty%252C_Lord_Beatty_-_1923.6.4_-_Smithsonian_American_Art_Museum.jpg" width="466" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span dir="ltr" lang="en"><i>Admiral Sir David Beatty, Lord Beatty</i></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span dir="ltr" lang="en"><i> </i></span></span>by Cecilia Beaux, c. 1920. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Cecilia_Beaux_-_Admiral_Sir_David_Beatty,_Lord_Beatty_-_1923.6.4_-_Smithsonian_American_Art_Museum.jpg">via</a>) <i>The war-torn horizon immediately conjures images of Napoleon and of J.M.W. Turner's storm-tossed seas.</i> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> A distinct style that arose for society portraiture in the Belle Époque and Edwardian era (1880s-1910s), I'm sure you've see it, that certain something that unites the work of Cecilia Beaux, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Singer_Sargent">John Singer Sargent</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anders_Zorn">Anders Zorn</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Th%C3%A9r%C3%A8se_Schwartze">Therese Schwartze</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joaqu%C3%ADn_Sorolla">Joaquín Sorolla</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Merritt_Chase">William Merritt Chase</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lilla_Cabot_Perry">Lilla Cabot Perry</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giovanni_Boldini">Giovanni Boldini</a>. It's why all these rival's work looks a bit alike, and why critics engage in a fun circular game of calling each painter's work derivative of the other. But it's hard to know what to call the style. It isn't Impressionism, even though the brushtrokes are loose and fluid, natural light takes center stage, and the implied movement of the compositions looks strikingly modern, like a snapshot. It's very realistic and slightly idealized-- but it's not the Academic style either. Yet it was clearly suited to turn-of-the-century high society, that glittering slurry of new industrialists and old aristocracy: fresh yet unthreatening, classic but not stodgy, audacious yet respectable. Where, then, did it come from?</p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6_HboVMMKa7r4yZ7o5jH_-7ABOND1Pjr3NkxS9tPyxk_KBzyoD8cVMnTZXefhKHE5MqCQgEzUBYSR1i2Ykj4MzcohqBH3QB1iArgL1otHvahaHZrqzR1ciKIkltBUNYbbA8EaqfztpQo/s1770/academic-style-timeline.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="1770" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6_HboVMMKa7r4yZ7o5jH_-7ABOND1Pjr3NkxS9tPyxk_KBzyoD8cVMnTZXefhKHE5MqCQgEzUBYSR1i2Ykj4MzcohqBH3QB1iArgL1otHvahaHZrqzR1ciKIkltBUNYbbA8EaqfztpQo/w640-h434/academic-style-timeline.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Merritt_Chase">Velasquez</a>. Yes, the Spanish painter from three centuries prior, the one who painted Las Meninas. His loose brushwork and thick buildup of wet-on-wet brushstrokes ran counter to the prevailing 19th century Academic tradition of perfectionist painters like Ingres. But it was hugely influential to figure painters like <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carolus-Duran">Carolus-Duran</a> in Paris and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Federico_de_Madrazo_y_Kuntz">Federico de Madrazo y Kuntz</a> in Madrid, each of whom were prolific and influential instructors of the mid-1800s. </p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0oplBQhzFOJoC-FOg-UNKHmyCfQ-WWm9HY0rz_QwkrP7KgsCrzsb87zcchgL3o8ofYHVlYbwHsnjR33cHZj767UBdK3DFT9vch_tHigQl27OQ_-2jXSvy7ESKPhCmNWmpojZm9jZnqU/s1770/velasquez-timeline.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="1770" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0oplBQhzFOJoC-FOg-UNKHmyCfQ-WWm9HY0rz_QwkrP7KgsCrzsb87zcchgL3o8ofYHVlYbwHsnjR33cHZj767UBdK3DFT9vch_tHigQl27OQ_-2jXSvy7ESKPhCmNWmpojZm9jZnqU/w640-h434/velasquez-timeline.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p>Also arising in the mid-1800s were two schools of plein aire (outdoor) painting: <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barbizon_school">Barbizon</a> in France and the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Macchiaioli">Macchiaioli</a> in Italy, both precursors to Impressionism. While the later Impressionists often used blue-purple for shadows, thus creating a dazzling vibration of color contrasts wherein the entire painting seems bright and fleeting, the Barbizon and especially Macchiaioli shaded the traditional way, with black. You wouldn't believe what a difference this makes, nor how hallowed the tradition, but it anchors a painting firmly on solid ground, as well as in the past. Nevertheless the Barbizon and Macchiaioli painters dared to keep their brushstrokes sketchy and their paintings spontaneous, to let layered patches of color and shadow shimmer on the surface instead of blending everything together. They, too, were inspired by Velasquez, but moreso by English landscape painters and old Dutch and Flemish masters. The later society portrait painters would adopt many dazzling techniques of the Impressionists but they continued to shade with black. <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkBZFmFwPb85nLZkQ_rNDZhIBbZN6G-Oda7epn5Uu8wgZVrt2KNuYV_cHzCPJEBal_i06lsUNvKCeiYZPM0A1DbmbwGPyj6UlWJrvoA1DPjZHGxKpfEay8RdFtLNzr147zxQWV7dWYuxc/s1770/plein-aire-timeline.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="1770" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkBZFmFwPb85nLZkQ_rNDZhIBbZN6G-Oda7epn5Uu8wgZVrt2KNuYV_cHzCPJEBal_i06lsUNvKCeiYZPM0A1DbmbwGPyj6UlWJrvoA1DPjZHGxKpfEay8RdFtLNzr147zxQWV7dWYuxc/w640-h434/plein-aire-timeline.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p>Then there was James Abbott McNeill Whistler. All these portrait artists claimed him as an influence. To them he represented more than an admirable style, but a collection of bold modern ideas (by 1860s standards). Half a century before Kandinsky, Whistler was flirting with abstraction and naming his paintings things like '<i>Nocturne</i>' and '<i>Symphony</i>' to draw parallels between pure visual composition and music (his musician friend suggested it, and to Whistler's immense pleasure the titles pissed off the art critics to no end). He had no time for allegory or morals-- he was interested in "art for art's sake," that is pure form, pure color, pure realism rather than idealized Greek goddesses or art with some sort of moral message, which was favored by the predominant Academic tradition. As such Whistler's work incorporated an element of decorative arts (which, after all, claimed no higher moral purpose than to be beautiful). Whistler was mentored by Courbet (as was his friend Carolus-Duran). Courbet was in turn inspired by Velasquez and the Flemish painters like Rembrandt.</p><p>This entire lineage is interesting because while Academic Style built upon the predominant traditions of the previous centuries, these society portrait artists built on all the <i>alternative</i> traditions which flourished in the periphery. <br /></p><p>This "alternative lineage" idea is completely my own take on it, though.
I don't know if general art historical consensus would agree because it
doesn't have much to say on the subject at all. Because these portrait
painters drew on alternative traditions, they were never on the cutting
edge of anything (neoclassicism, romanticism, pure impressionism,
fauvism, abstract expressionism, etc) and have been almost completely
left out of the narrative of art history. They're considered unimportant
in the progression and eventual triumph of unsentimental abstract
expressionism. Sargent, Zorn and Sorolla are beloved, but most people
don't learn about them from a boilerplate art history class. They simply
stumble across them on Pinterest or in a coffee table book in some
waiting room. <br /></p><p>In their heyday, though, these artists were considered forward-thinking. So as Ingres' old-fashioned style dominated the 19th century, his style became associated with it. The new generation of bright (rich) young things wanted something new, something that represented them, yet they still were searching for the next Old Master, to own what their grandchildren would consider important art. Each aspiring young portrait painter who studied in Europe was right at the center of it, various influential movements as they unfolded in real time, meeting their modern idols at cafes and copying the old masters in museums. </p><p>And then there was Cecilia Beaux, stuck in Philadelphia. </p><p>There <i>was</i> one good place to study art in Philly, and that was at Thomas Eakins's academy. But everyone knew that place was full of freaks. Ever since Eakins had exhibited a graphic painting of a surgery in progress, no respectable woman would touch his school, even if he was a great painter, and even if his school did allow women to study anatomy. </p><p>Beaux's concerned family found a relative to teach Beaux instead, one Catherine Drinker. After studying with Drinker and desperate to make some money to support herself and her family, Beaux turned to painting portraits of children on porcelain plates. People would mail in photographs and she'd mail the plates back to clients as far away as California. She drew advertising lithographs ad technical illustration as well. <i>"This was the lowest depth I ever reached in commercial art," </i>she said,<i> "and
although it was a period when youth and romance were in their first
attendance on me, I remember it with gloom and record it with shame."</i> But the money did afford her the independence to continue her studies ("only until marriage of course," she told her family and, to an extent, herself). More importantly it taught her that mothers would do anything for portraits of their children. (I once had this same "ah-ha!" moment with pet portraiture when I saw someone go into the Louis Vuitton store pushing a gigantic dog stroller with a shivering chihuahua inside). <br /></p><p>Beaux had to admit growing admiration for Eakins' Academic-style work. And she knew she had to step up her game if she didn't want to be painting plates forever. In the end she worked up the nerve to attend the academy but studied with other teachers. "<i>A curious instinct of self-preservation kept me outside the
magic circle</i>." Sadly Eakins would be fired from the academy for his practice of allowing women artists to study anatomy. Philadelphia was not ready for his ideas. </p><p>Somewhere along these studies she picked up a lifelong belief in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phrenology" title="Phrenology">phrenology</a>, which was a preeminent form of quackery from an embarrassing period in history when scientists believed that behavior and character traits correlated with various physical features. At its worst this idea was applied to blatantly racist, sexist, classist and xenophobic agendas-- that's why it's earned such a nasty reputation nowadays. However I find it interesting that a portrait artist would pick up phrenology and run with it. It makes me reconsider the practice of cartooning where physical features are exaggerated to show personality. Much of portraiture is after all just glorified cartooning, where the artist manipulates the sitter's physical appearance to turn them into an expressive character. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPtJKFV7MJ6_xw8ROjmqI_nKFDKMfMX-bZRyO0dh7sjS1jrpP0E2jN5QQS4-DntTuAV2wy-sX3cB3B4hAQ47-p3EmF6K-2NW3LVxtb9OCurzhbezyhclJcpslVHwXTdZlupEMdvt4h-Ck/s864/Les_derniers_jours_d%2527_enfance_by_Cecilia_Beaux.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="727" data-original-width="864" height="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPtJKFV7MJ6_xw8ROjmqI_nKFDKMfMX-bZRyO0dh7sjS1jrpP0E2jN5QQS4-DntTuAV2wy-sX3cB3B4hAQ47-p3EmF6K-2NW3LVxtb9OCurzhbezyhclJcpslVHwXTdZlupEMdvt4h-Ck/w400-h336/Les_derniers_jours_d%2527_enfance_by_Cecilia_Beaux.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Les Derniers Jours d'Enfance </i>by Cecilia Beaux, 1883. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=Special:Search&limit=20&offset=40&profile=default&search=cecilia+beaux&advancedSearch-current={}&ns0=1&ns6=1&ns12=1&ns14=1&ns100=1&ns106=1#/media/File:Les_derniers_jours_d'_enfance_by_Cecilia_Beaux.jpg">via</a>)<i><br /></i></td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p><p>With the exhibition of her first serious work, <i>Les Derniers Jours d'Enfance</i>, Beaux allied herself with artists like Whistler and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Cassatt" rel="" title="Mary Cassatt">Mary Cassatt.</a> Beaux's reputation grew and she opened her own portrait studio. In just a few years she was able to charge as much for a commission as Eakins himself. She was good, but she wanted to be <i>great</i>. She craved a European education and in 1888 at age 32 she set sail for Paris. "<i>Remember</i>," begged her loving Aunt Eliza, who was anxious for her unmarried Quaker niece amid the notorious vices of the Paris art world, "<i>you are first of all a Christian – then a woman and last of all an Artist.</i>" </p><p>Paris hit Cecilia Beaux like a ton of bricks but she thrived in the adversity. It wasn't Bouguereau, the most nurturing of her instructors, who buoyed her spirits the most, but the underhanded encouragement of the severe Fleury, eyeing her efforts: "<i>...We will do all we can to help you</i>."</p><p>At the same time that Beaux was training in the Academic style she was also drawn to its polar opposite, Impressionism. She experimented with incorporating it into her style but found she was too precise and concrete a painter to really adopt the style. However she did lighten her color palette significantly, beginning a lifelong love affair with white-on-white effects. She also studied the effects of natural light and outdoor painting which she would put to use later in her career with outdoor portraits and landscapes. <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiFr-IWKIBA13xqmzmivMsfJtGnMxi9nEXrQFLgCFJdDZM_sTMrYlcoxmAStdofA1iU7u26zgOGfL0X56ghfcnA8FTtMDt20XWAIAdQsEZg6Hjywbr4le_8wW2Fhx0uY_AgIC_ldDO2Fo/s1000/Twilight_Confidences_by_Cecilia_Beaux.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="818" data-original-width="1000" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiFr-IWKIBA13xqmzmivMsfJtGnMxi9nEXrQFLgCFJdDZM_sTMrYlcoxmAStdofA1iU7u26zgOGfL0X56ghfcnA8FTtMDt20XWAIAdQsEZg6Hjywbr4le_8wW2Fhx0uY_AgIC_ldDO2Fo/w400-h328/Twilight_Confidences_by_Cecilia_Beaux.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Twilight Confidences </i>by Cecilia Beaux, 1888. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Twilight_Confidences_by_Cecilia_Beaux.jpg">via</a>) <i>Beaux
painted this early work after spending the summer at an artist's colony
in Brittany. She completed numerous studies for this, and the painting
is her first foray into plein aire (i.e. outdoor) painting. The play of
fleeting natural light is obviously her main focus and the white Briton
bonnets of the women serve as perfect vehicles.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="views-element-container"><br /></div><div class="views-element-container"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTY-U7UQDxxasB4b8f9iP2-PJkO557hGR7k_AtNtWuUE1wJ7LOqnFI_vEdJl1zWtHJGZgzr9woGZqpE_jpI_Td7jx0Gc6N1PkprZJDaHhzlcBteUgPOl7z0GjJaJoTCPoJ2ZiLDjw9hLo/s901/Cecilia+Beaux-www.fineartandyou.com-36.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="495" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTY-U7UQDxxasB4b8f9iP2-PJkO557hGR7k_AtNtWuUE1wJ7LOqnFI_vEdJl1zWtHJGZgzr9woGZqpE_jpI_Td7jx0Gc6N1PkprZJDaHhzlcBteUgPOl7z0GjJaJoTCPoJ2ZiLDjw9hLo/w352-h640/Cecilia+Beaux-www.fineartandyou.com-36.jpg" width="352" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>New England Woman</i>, by Cecilia Beaux, 1895. (image <a href="https://www.fineartandyou.com/2018/06/portrait-paintings-by-cecilia-beaux.html">via</a>) <i>While this painting was completed a decade after her time in Paris you can clearly see the influence of Impressionists like Morisot and Cassatt</i>. <i>Beaux also was an admirer of Whistler, and one of his most famous portraits was a girl in a white dress in front of a white curtain, titled</i> Symphony in White. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="views-element-container"> </div><div class="views-element-container">When Beaux returned to Philadelphia she dedicated herself completely to painting. She chose never to marry or even to have serious relationships so she could focus. Her extended family welcomed her back home, and all of the time she lived there and worked in her studio, "<i>I was never once asked to do an errand in town, some bit of shopping…so well did they understand</i>." (everyone who works from home lately will understand what a gift that is). She maintained a strict daily routine with a punctual starting and quitting time.</div><div class="views-element-container"> </div><div class="views-element-container">The year after her return William Merritt Chase (the prominent Impressionist and society portrait painter) claimed, “[Beaux is] not only the greatest living woman
painter, but the best painter who ever lived!” I personally disagree-- no one beats Anders Zorn, come on-- but Beaux was clearly earning a solid reputation stateside. She had multiple pieces exhibited together with John Singer Sargent who was much more well-known at the time, and a critic was famously overheard making very sideways compliment: "I see Sargent has signed his best paintings, 'Cecilia Beaux.'" He meant that her style was very derivative of his, but also that her work was superior. Her work is still frequently compared with his-- and they are very similar-- but as I pointed out at the beginning of the post, both Beaux and Sargent were basically painting in the style of Carolus-Duran. <br /></div><div class="views-element-container"> </div><div class="views-element-container">In a reversal of the previous decade when she had difficulty acquiring training, Beaux was hired as the first woman to teach at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts. Philadelphians were proud and she became a very popular instructor for the next twenty years. <br /></div><div class="views-element-container"> </div><div class="views-element-container">Beaux went on to exhibit large murals at the Chicago World's Fair, to amass a long list of sought-after clientele including Teddy and Edith Roosevelt, and to have her paintings exhibited in Paris to acclaim. </div><div class="views-element-container"> </div><div class="views-element-container">By the early 1900s several of Beaux's extended family members died. Beaux was devastated, as she had been orphaned at birth and raised, with her sister, by her grandparents, aunts and uncles. She found it too painful to stay in Philadelphia and relocated to a country home in a wealthy community. She began summering in New York as well. Interestingly, she incorporated hiking and leisure into her daily studio schedule because she considered the steady maintenance of energy to be crucial to her artistic output. One must accept, she believed, that art will work one to exhaustion, so an artist must plan one's day in a way that re-energizes oneself. </div><div class="views-element-container"><br /></div><div class="views-element-container">Abruptly in 1907, American artists overhauled the Impressionist era, moving on to gritty social realism, Dada and then abstraction. But Beaux never considered moving on from her style.
"<i>These men [Rubens, Memling, Mabuse, all Renaissance and Baroque painters] were not reformers</i>," she wrote. "<i>Theirs was the earnest desire toward
perfection. Not to break down, but to build</i>." For Beaux the old masters had set art as an ever-fixed mark that does not alter when it when it alteration finds. </div><div class="views-element-container"> </div><div class="views-element-container">Despite the art world moving on the last decades of her life were filled with prestigious honors and awards of every sort. Toward the end of her life she broke her hip and her painting slowed considerably. She died in 1942 at age 87. </div><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHTdd90ySvmOrTQtDBkS6Zem8zzTP9mvLlG18XrsXZQ0whCRLTU7G2VhCa3wtM64qt7latfZcNnYwFaDx7RWw8RipKl204gLPqYBLkvFuWF2X_MFcqTdrQvxR8FR5Xn02-suhW6nf6XAo/s1000/Sita+and+Sarita+-+1893-94+large.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="659" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHTdd90ySvmOrTQtDBkS6Zem8zzTP9mvLlG18XrsXZQ0whCRLTU7G2VhCa3wtM64qt7latfZcNnYwFaDx7RWw8RipKl204gLPqYBLkvFuWF2X_MFcqTdrQvxR8FR5Xn02-suhW6nf6XAo/w422-h640/Sita+and+Sarita+-+1893-94+large.jpg" width="422" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Sita and Sarita</i>, by Cecilia Beaux, 1893-4. (image <a href="http://artcontrarian.blogspot.com/2013/11/cecilia-beaux-portrait-artist.html">via</a>) <i>Who wouldn't like to have their portrait made like this, looking mysterious with a witchy cat. Beaux sometimes added a touch of something slightly odd such as an unusual pose or composition which made the image more attention-grabbing while allowing the sitter to retain their dignity. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsjUplapVKb2QDdNyaLbzjHaILgYz7mkOn_IqSq3zEiXue7gAHlk8KRkUd9F9eVa6DafQe65U10FtNZtN_8qVaGk8CnN2EOjUclADcQ-9VElIeCTa9BclW15ijYx9zrK2GWWJsnCttnlc/s1280/Cecilia+Beaux-www.fineartandyou.com-19.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="704" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsjUplapVKb2QDdNyaLbzjHaILgYz7mkOn_IqSq3zEiXue7gAHlk8KRkUd9F9eVa6DafQe65U10FtNZtN_8qVaGk8CnN2EOjUclADcQ-9VElIeCTa9BclW15ijYx9zrK2GWWJsnCttnlc/w352-h640/Cecilia+Beaux-www.fineartandyou.com-19.jpg" width="352" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><figure aria-describedby="caption-attachment-9728" class="wp-caption aligncenter" data-shortcode="caption" id="attachment_9728"><figcaption class="wp-caption-text" id="caption-attachment-9728"><i>Mrs. Alexander Sedgwick and Daughter Christina</i>, by Cecilia Beaux, 1902. (image <a href="https://www.fineartandyou.com/2018/06/portrait-paintings-by-cecilia-beaux.html">via</a>) <i>The pose in this is interesting. The mother's back is turned, </i>and<i> she isn't even more than a sketch at the edges. Yet she's very prominent in the painting. </i> <br /></figcaption></figure></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTz33RzVHJkiXalwsEJPRfbrxK0s5K-1B1JFARti8yulrbXk79O3AVtXPsLEdxfxtCj5ssAgolCXUDp5t23BsAeL1iFPUyrQ8qPZFzd71sQ_XJlM5vO9pUPvoFO2-NLjSiNN3fA_8uYg/s686/Sarah_Doyle_by_Cecilia_Beaux.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="686" data-original-width="519" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTz33RzVHJkiXalwsEJPRfbrxK0s5K-1B1JFARti8yulrbXk79O3AVtXPsLEdxfxtCj5ssAgolCXUDp5t23BsAeL1iFPUyrQ8qPZFzd71sQ_XJlM5vO9pUPvoFO2-NLjSiNN3fA_8uYg/w485-h640/Sarah_Doyle_by_Cecilia_Beaux.jpg" width="485" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Sarah Elizabeth Doyle</i> by Cecilia Beaux, c. 1902. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Sarah_Doyle_by_Cecilia_Beaux.jpg">via</a>) <i>Sarah Doyle was a suffragist and educator who founded the Pembroke College in Brown University. Her former students commissioned this portrait from Beaux, to “be of itself a
work of art of the highest merit" which would acknowledge Doyle's “deep and lasting influence upon the
women of this community,” and “perpetuate her strong, womanly personality.” Doyle is shown here in her academic robes over her personal clothes, with a pose and expression that radiates intelligence and gravitas (to get in trouble and be sent to her principal's office would be terribly intimidating). The simplicity of the forms and fluidity of the brushstrokes create a confident sense of balance. The red background appears plummy purple in some photographs of the piece, and if that's the case in real life it would be an allusion to the symbolic colors of the women's suffrage movement: white, green and purple.</i> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZVxeFVCzhuqR2X_lnLtKbaR0FQkDtDV-AxRvAPjAYqnswc-PX3MStNxU4U5v7Y1q4wEoYvFMVACAi_A4U1XlOjdDODfpIpBiCM1DtjR4iy29PcN4wtnxZSAsvHHhjp05_pnprk1ZWI8/s1200/Cecilia_Beaux_-_Man_with_the_Cat_%2528Henry_Sturgis_Drinker%2529_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="860" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZVxeFVCzhuqR2X_lnLtKbaR0FQkDtDV-AxRvAPjAYqnswc-PX3MStNxU4U5v7Y1q4wEoYvFMVACAi_A4U1XlOjdDODfpIpBiCM1DtjR4iy29PcN4wtnxZSAsvHHhjp05_pnprk1ZWI8/w458-h640/Cecilia_Beaux_-_Man_with_the_Cat_%2528Henry_Sturgis_Drinker%2529_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" width="458" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span dir="ltr" lang="en"><i>Man with the Cat (Henry Sturgis Drinker)</i></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span dir="ltr" lang="en"><i> </i></span></span>by Cecilia Beaux, 1898. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Cecilia_Beaux_-_Man_with_the_Cat_(Henry_Sturgis_Drinker)_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg">via</a>) <i>Drinker was a wealthy and stylish railroad executive who married Cecilia Beaux's sister. He was also brother to Beaux's first art instructor, Catherine Drinker. Known to be a strong personality, the painting seems to be some sort of recognition and accord between his strong personality and Beaux's own formidable character (according to unsigned commentary at Smithsonian's image database). This man was the pinnacle of glitteringly wealthy East coast society, and here he is so comfortable with himself that he slumps in a chair to accommodate the cat on his lap, the literal lap of luxury. Besides the pose I love the technique of this painting. The brushstrokes are clear watery pools of color, the side lighting that splashes over the folds of his suit beautifully divides his face in two.</i> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKu9U7sKdoPh9FJejIJdW0cj70Vfvracf6SJWyzQVd8PgekFYe80FbL8aD0TGoXsxiQ__f27NSTtexHy7JmlJNCCjD1Out2hGmqEZzBmUIc3nF4nb2-N_dPFvenEWYJpw8hasB3tdSAsE/s742/Cecilia_Beaux_-_After_the_Meeting_1914.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="742" data-original-width="500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKu9U7sKdoPh9FJejIJdW0cj70Vfvracf6SJWyzQVd8PgekFYe80FbL8aD0TGoXsxiQ__f27NSTtexHy7JmlJNCCjD1Out2hGmqEZzBmUIc3nF4nb2-N_dPFvenEWYJpw8hasB3tdSAsE/w432-h640/Cecilia_Beaux_-_After_the_Meeting_1914.jpg" width="432" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>After the Meeting</i> by Cecilia Beaux, 1914. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Cecilia_Beaux_-_After_the_Meeting_1914.jpg">via</a>) <i>I adore this composition-- the high contrast pattern play, near-abstract blocks of color, and how it leads the eye in an unusual upward zigzag. The bold layering of patterns echoes whatever peppery thing the woman in the chair is saying, and the lively composition which zings back and forth hints at a gathering of others who are listening and ready with a lively answer. According to writers in 1915 the "meeting" certainly refers to a women's suffrage meeting (note the green and white dress) and the "restless energy" is meant to characterize those who attended, someone who talks with her hands and grabs attention. The flattened, color-blocked composition was a pointed reference to abstract European modernism and drew a parallel between the modernism of the woman and of the painting itself (and possibly painter). Meanwhile the careless simplicity of the brushstrokes and lack of shading especially in the face was a reference to fauvism, another modern art movement. Beaux considered herself a "<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Woman">New Woman,</a>" an independent cultured citizen who supported women's rights. </i> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZIV5cFRJsq_MpIas75EgMIGu7AAossvTa1p1MgLL0cIOKl3w4_ERndnD3F35InOEbEBKSNHJUpqnTrOKCmSNBmkyPZf9wLm7wy4UrwOIl4Il-BhIPYYEXlcoKbf_kjeB2cJ8fapLLQ0s/s900/Beaux-alice-davison-1909-10.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="457" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZIV5cFRJsq_MpIas75EgMIGu7AAossvTa1p1MgLL0cIOKl3w4_ERndnD3F35InOEbEBKSNHJUpqnTrOKCmSNBmkyPZf9wLm7wy4UrwOIl4Il-BhIPYYEXlcoKbf_kjeB2cJ8fapLLQ0s/w325-h640/Beaux-alice-davison-1909-10.jpg" width="325" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Portrait of Alice Davison</i> by Cecilia Beaux, 1909. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Beaux-alice-davison-1909-10.jpg">via</a>) <i>I think the way she painted Central Park is neat</i>. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiukYq07bK2-pBXj0LilYVpXQ4kKcrUik6rlPiEW2fsP-NZb4u-uzqSkjVekm3nR9fn2C-CRgkBKK8xNwIBKwjuDv60oeIADBBQXvDmpAfkXajlsqmBxNfSOJ8wGX0BL3mSYfEj12OJaac/s1199/794px-Cardinal_Mercier_by_Cecilia_Beaux_-_Museum_Syndicate.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="794" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiukYq07bK2-pBXj0LilYVpXQ4kKcrUik6rlPiEW2fsP-NZb4u-uzqSkjVekm3nR9fn2C-CRgkBKK8xNwIBKwjuDv60oeIADBBQXvDmpAfkXajlsqmBxNfSOJ8wGX0BL3mSYfEj12OJaac/w424-h640/794px-Cardinal_Mercier_by_Cecilia_Beaux_-_Museum_Syndicate.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Cardinal Mercier</i> by Cecilia Beaux, 1919. (image <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Cardinal_Mercier_by_Cecilia_Beaux_-_Museum_Syndicate.jpg">via</a>) <i>While this man doesn't look like someone I'd want to know the painting itself is beautiful. The tonal value of the red against the background is somehow surprising; where you'd expect dramatic contrast (as in a Baroque painting) they're separated only by outline. The mottled misty quality of the figure creates a separation from the viewer, as if he's not real. The overall effect really sucks you in. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>So, here is my portrait of Cecilia Beaux for Day 3 of Inktober. I readily found two of Beaux's self portraits online, and while I quite like them as paintings I didn't think they made very good reference images. Nor were the photographs of her very descriptive. With some digging I found <a href="https://figurationfeminine.blogspot.com/2016/07/rosina-emmet-sherwood-1854-1948.html">a watercolor portrait of Beaux</a> by another artist named <a href="http://arcadiasystems.org/academia/cassatt6j.html#sherwood">Rosina Emmet Sherwood</a>. (Sherwood's <a href="https://hawthornefineart.wordpress.com/2011/10/11/rosina-emmet-sherwood/">life</a> and <a href="http://www.artnet.com/artists/rosina-emmet-sherwood/">work</a> is worth taking a look; she did some gorgeous children's book illustration.) I tried to mimic Beaux's own long fluid brushstrokes in her blouse and in the "scumbled" background. I also noticed that she frequently employed a subtle but thick outline to separate the figure from the background. It creates a slightly art-nouveau-style effect, like a rich glaze puddling around the contours of a vase. You can see it in the portrait of Sarah Doyle above with the red background. I added the bow on the blouse to anchor the composition and cropped the image way in from Sherwood's original seated pose; I like how it makes her look like a thoroughly modern "Gibson Girl." <br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG-9-JDCX17yC0noL8AjrjR4OXfHzLh5sn7EDyCzx2-iHkcJRc0nHfryNXojmx38quzSDKrCodC1JM_8H8-x0Z8T7bY3Gu14xfmwCPlOPmLyApOoCtsR23fzOOlUA_UUxXzM_hI2-OC54/s1600/3-cecilia+beaux-SAMPLE.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1058" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG-9-JDCX17yC0noL8AjrjR4OXfHzLh5sn7EDyCzx2-iHkcJRc0nHfryNXojmx38quzSDKrCodC1JM_8H8-x0Z8T7bY3Gu14xfmwCPlOPmLyApOoCtsR23fzOOlUA_UUxXzM_hI2-OC54/w424-h640/3-cecilia+beaux-SAMPLE.jpeg" width="424" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-20360246385524479852020-11-08T14:52:00.004-05:002020-11-08T14:58:30.496-05:00Inktober Day 2: Claude Cahun<p>I'm using "zie/hirself/hir" instead of "she/herself/her" because Claude Cahun was genderqueer, though how exactly to interpret that in modern times is an ongoing debate.* I don't like the more popular "they/them" pronouns, and while it's not remotely the hill I'm willing to die on this is my blog so I'm using the one I prefer. <br /></p><p>When Claude Cahun met hir partner Marcel Moore it was "like a bolt of lightning." They were just 15 and 17 but they'd be together for life. Both born female, they both used assumed names; Marcel is male and Claude is neutral in French. The two would collaborate in writing, illustration, photography and photocollage; they risked their lives together fighting Nazis, they were imprisoned together, attempted suicide together, and were saved together at the last second by allied victory. </p><blockquote><p><span style="color: #a64d79;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">"The autonomy of the ring finger.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">For me, a miracle, terror or charm, surprise, is anything I cannot obtain from my body</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">or soul. For the Christ, Christ is completely normal. He didn’t even get any joy from walking</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /></span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">on water." --Claude Cahun, from <i>Disavowals</i>.</span> <br /></span></p></blockquote><p>"Cahun" is an assumed name as well, and an interesting one. Claude's father and other relatives were already well known in France for their writing and for their family publishing business, all under the last name "Schwob." Claude didn't want to attach hirself to hir father's fame, but nor did zie want to erase zir Jewish identity. In the 1910s when antisematism was steeply on the rise and many Jews were adopting non-Jewish-sounding last names to get by, Claude made a point to choose "Cahun," which is the French version of "Cohen." Openly rebelling against antisematism with Marcel (also Jewish) was a central theme of Cahun's life and writing. <br /></p><blockquote><p><span style="color: #a64d79;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">"The best way to keep your god near you: crucify him. The pagans who used to collect gods</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /></span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">pinned Jesus to the cross like a rare butterfly." --Claude Cahun, from <i>Disavowals</i>. </span><br /></span></p></blockquote><p>After attending the Sorbonne in Paris, Cahun and Moore began holding their own salons, amassing a circle of colleagues who included surrealist poets, the legendary lesbian literary duo behind Shakespeare & Co. bookstore, and the influential artist and writer André Breton. Nearly all of their work was collaborative in some way with others from these circles, from Moore's illustrations for avant-garde poets to Cahun's published reviews of other writers. Cahun's well-known face was sculpted in bronze by Chana Orloff (the subject of an upcoming Inktober profile). They were heavily involved in radical theater, which is evident in their costumed photographs, while Moore's graphic design work and fashion design business expanded their circles still. Their art was extremely community and action-oriented, and for this reason it's difficult to gauge their influence or extract them from the world around them. </p><blockquote><p>"I dedicate this puerile prose to you [Marcel], so that the entire book will
belong to you and in this way your designs may redeem my text in our
eyes." --Claude Cahun <br /></p></blockquote><p>Among the solo work Cahun created in the 20s and 30s was a series of re-imagined modern monologues from famous women of mythology, the Bible and fairy tales, entitled <i>Heroines</i>, 1925. Zie also exhibited a series of objects and assemblages at a surrealist show. A request for a confessional-style (i.e. autobiographical) book from Adrienne Monnier (of Shakespeare & Co.) resulted in Cahun's "anti-confessional," a surrealist collection of poetry titled <i>Aveux non avenus</i>, 1930. Long considered "untranslatable," Susan de Muth published an English version in 2007 under the title <i>Disavowals</i>, available to read <a href="https://susandemuth.com/translations/disavowals-aveux-non-avenus-by-claude-cahun/">online</a>. A central theme is the unstable struggle before God to face oneself honestly, without any sort of socially constructed pretense or mask. With its blazing honesty and thoroughly confusing subconscious-driven style, it can be a harsh and abstruse read peppered with gutter humor and pathos. </p><blockquote><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">“Make myself another vocabulary, brighten the silver of the mirror, blink an eye, swindle myself by means of a fluke muscle; cheat with my skeleton, correct my mistakes, divide myself in order to conquer, multiply myself in order to assert myself; briefly, to play with ourselves can change nothing.” --Claude Cahun, <i>Disavowals</i>. </span><br /></span></p></blockquote><p>Moore and Cahun's photography places them more in the context of Dadaist photocollage artists like Hannah Höch and Raul Haussmann, as well as surrealist photographers like Man Ray and Dora Maar. Some costumed and some nakedly confrontational, all looking homemade, raw and somewhat guerrilla-style, they were collaborations where Cahun was usually photographed but sometimes they took turns posing in the same tableau. Today it's what Cahun is most famous for, but oddly I don't have much to say about the photographs (though I like them a lot). Just look: </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="910" data-original-width="655" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5uiAzk2VLIHBEISO_-ow3NgNW-QktN2nQkEhNdCApWGU-gFWyXykG7Gz5ImgvIprsyLHF_c5-poE8YpxnBVVa7fcGNxwHKIoJeU8YQKV6fhnyhCYx-e_pd43vpmQoy7i7urShdeHAEXs/s320/7.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><figure class="inline-img expandable" data-img-aspect-ratio-type="portrait" data-img-aspect-ratio="0.81" data-img="adeed742-c9f3-4b82-9771-a88800e57738" data-src="https://anotherimg-dazedgroup.netdna-ssl.com/2000/azure/another-prod/370/3/373683.jpg"><figcaption class="img-caption" style="width: 568px;"><span class="caption">Studies for a Keepsake <span class="nowrap">c. 1925–6</span></span><span class="credit">© Claude Cahun, (image courtesy of <span class="nowrap">Jersey Heritage, <a href="https://www.vintag.es/2020/06/claude-cahun-self-portraits.html">via</a>)<br /></span></span></figcaption></figure></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibwLmoPv4XjUWTBRAYIplfVybKFSf19pneXkY1bJRR7MzlQzkQyxuNguIsgrDQkG9gAEZtHmtjeAYdnY_hMx-W290-KKW-6hUEfd4GZK1ZUe2KCOR5_TPSWgkOsWYcu9mzYzisgPBrSW4/s646/878ed9e58ce522466e29f59afc0a0033.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="646" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibwLmoPv4XjUWTBRAYIplfVybKFSf19pneXkY1bJRR7MzlQzkQyxuNguIsgrDQkG9gAEZtHmtjeAYdnY_hMx-W290-KKW-6hUEfd4GZK1ZUe2KCOR5_TPSWgkOsWYcu9mzYzisgPBrSW4/s320/878ed9e58ce522466e29f59afc0a0033.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of the Keepsake series where Cahun is wearing a beaded Jewish star. (Image <a href="https://www.vintag.es/2020/06/claude-cahun-self-portraits.html">via</a>)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5uiAzk2VLIHBEISO_-ow3NgNW-QktN2nQkEhNdCApWGU-gFWyXykG7Gz5ImgvIprsyLHF_c5-poE8YpxnBVVa7fcGNxwHKIoJeU8YQKV6fhnyhCYx-e_pd43vpmQoy7i7urShdeHAEXs/s910/7.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiLHc-guKzkTgy1OtixR5GVdUqFOrscF7-tY_Q69c1jEcNlI_XuPHP-Q2uv1O5Tn_wYQ39BFbY5eEgvS5UkZCZSxfVwtgMxkm8im-nzB2N3SDWhGAw8gweKWU2s_EBOVLEtA74unLLwYE/s1500/553f640f521c7.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1141" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiLHc-guKzkTgy1OtixR5GVdUqFOrscF7-tY_Q69c1jEcNlI_XuPHP-Q2uv1O5Tn_wYQ39BFbY5eEgvS5UkZCZSxfVwtgMxkm8im-nzB2N3SDWhGAw8gweKWU2s_EBOVLEtA74unLLwYE/s320/553f640f521c7.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><figure class="gw gx gy gz ha gv aj paragraph-image"><figcaption class="ho hp cr cp cq hq hr bo b fe bq eu" data-selectable-paragraph=""><i>Self-Portrait</i> by Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore, 1928. Marcel Moore also took a turn in front of the mirror in a similar photograph. <br /></figcaption></figure></td></tr></tbody></table></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjApepTaemBkiqvQRAFHV6Ou1kGvw12Or3klmBgQc30oSAt6LQysbH9zGuvWI5Od5nS0zzcbek_ZEkavinIJ2F-rpsInlr64IU3QoDiNS6knLgqLvKLLgkTOrbL4WHymt6wRBp4oSWJM6Q/s899/claude-cahun-self-portraits-17.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="899" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjApepTaemBkiqvQRAFHV6Ou1kGvw12Or3klmBgQc30oSAt6LQysbH9zGuvWI5Od5nS0zzcbek_ZEkavinIJ2F-rpsInlr64IU3QoDiNS6knLgqLvKLLgkTOrbL4WHymt6wRBp4oSWJM6Q/s320/claude-cahun-self-portraits-17.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In costume as an angel, image by Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRCr72bMQGji47_9T0zDCqDUS8Asc32gOnAdNBwejnPdFyGb_L-Wo5TWKGZ9Ff9rGbVLX0zkYCTdXkyDqAnKe7sAgXTN-rqyd_6qpihVj5QRmWCesfqXc0XBlAJ4vdVqvVmd8IwgrDIEs/s1024/claude-cahun_self-portrait-with-cat_1927_aware_women-artists_artistes-femmes.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="741" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRCr72bMQGji47_9T0zDCqDUS8Asc32gOnAdNBwejnPdFyGb_L-Wo5TWKGZ9Ff9rGbVLX0zkYCTdXkyDqAnKe7sAgXTN-rqyd_6qpihVj5QRmWCesfqXc0XBlAJ4vdVqvVmd8IwgrDIEs/s320/claude-cahun_self-portrait-with-cat_1927_aware_women-artists_artistes-femmes.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image of Claude Cahun with a cat. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKJJxYhhAFZCxAP5tOryA3pARD1LepsPCJ1NBYX9BivVQzOL5qQSYxScZmet8LEMRZ0cS1j4U0VJh2xgvK7XejCN7zt5Kilu6LRt50gtYDCYdeftJH8TuhFoOeSt-mNmq-Mcr8LGYD9E/s1500/ClaudeCahun008-e1485630139422.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="964" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKJJxYhhAFZCxAP5tOryA3pARD1LepsPCJ1NBYX9BivVQzOL5qQSYxScZmet8LEMRZ0cS1j4U0VJh2xgvK7XejCN7zt5Kilu6LRt50gtYDCYdeftJH8TuhFoOeSt-mNmq-Mcr8LGYD9E/s320/ClaudeCahun008-e1485630139422.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Autoportrait</i> by Claude Cahun, 1928. (image <a href="https://timeline.com/claude-cahun-queer-photographer-75d9da5a1d40">via</a>)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig7gpJe4Pk6GlJb8_AlLiv4dEhyphenhyphenMfYDnpvghPQ5gkbJ4Wi1XJp0f9vI0UCzbz6kNr6Z9Pl7U7MdOlpPevAIFTa4Yc0BXF7hpOPufB2vXq-YB3b2iHtFsgiq4z49vuzseNqx8obP0RC5U8/s1795/claude-cahun-1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1795" data-original-width="1360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig7gpJe4Pk6GlJb8_AlLiv4dEhyphenhyphenMfYDnpvghPQ5gkbJ4Wi1XJp0f9vI0UCzbz6kNr6Z9Pl7U7MdOlpPevAIFTa4Yc0BXF7hpOPufB2vXq-YB3b2iHtFsgiq4z49vuzseNqx8obP0RC5U8/s320/claude-cahun-1.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><figure class="gw gx gy gz ha gv cp cq paragraph-image"><figcaption class="ho hp cr cp cq hq hr bo b fe bq eu" data-selectable-paragraph=""><i>Autoportrait</i> by Claude Cahun, 1929. (image <a href="https://timeline.com/claude-cahun-queer-photographer-75d9da5a1d40">via</a>)<br /></figcaption></figure></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiBwLcS8QauQYXVz8WgYmEATM1yvA8T3xazDFtpHmhN7NaTlykYc2Gidi_fPw555mqAGGTnxHsN16pRrzD5hl0HOUVu70xucJDva_fooXAYhwgHqzws7hXSmvmVAZ_itNXFGUuROCno58/s406/kewpeedoll.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="406" data-original-width="297" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiBwLcS8QauQYXVz8WgYmEATM1yvA8T3xazDFtpHmhN7NaTlykYc2Gidi_fPw555mqAGGTnxHsN16pRrzD5hl0HOUVu70xucJDva_fooXAYhwgHqzws7hXSmvmVAZ_itNXFGUuROCno58/s320/kewpeedoll.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>I Am In Training, Don't Kiss Me</i>, (title taken from the words on the chest) by Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore. (image <a href="http://manfredunger-list.blogspot.com/2010/10/claude-cahun.html">via</a>)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSpaVR4PKC0EXsJD5_jY5Ma31xALwmOWJNPHRLstmcTasiJemUwQJYfHRhU6QgxbNBNkbt5evGNZJYMu0UTvBIDm9NZcNqT7syOy795nZP48gVfdD26uLBLSm09Rl6I8r5JgFlI5REq6k/s1024/1*cVwJqKtRHbcYNYcNsJIy5A.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="737" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSpaVR4PKC0EXsJD5_jY5Ma31xALwmOWJNPHRLstmcTasiJemUwQJYfHRhU6QgxbNBNkbt5evGNZJYMu0UTvBIDm9NZcNqT7syOy795nZP48gVfdD26uLBLSm09Rl6I8r5JgFlI5REq6k/s320/1*cVwJqKtRHbcYNYcNsJIy5A.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><figure class="jq jr js jt ju gv cp cq paragraph-image"><figcaption class="ho hp cr cp cq hq hr bo b fe bq eu" data-selectable-paragraph=""><i>Self-Portrait</i> by Claude Cahun, 1928. (image <a href="https://timeline.com/claude-cahun-queer-photographer-75d9da5a1d40">via</a>)</figcaption><figcaption class="ho hp cr cp cq hq hr bo b fe bq eu" data-selectable-paragraph=""><br /></figcaption></figure></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJXdP2_bDJ0AO0X3T6FnismCEAYyHiYjSXjylRS1P9Y-nMDQ84hWg5Ul2vy1vu_C07CcAVxpJ6j-wu3RdwgqM3cQ6lS6VbEjRiTNnjRohBL-Zq38jIcdehbESNBQOXtRqr0CKgkFI0gE/s1203/1*f5qt4fJNRO0LCTG0NRDrfw.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJXdP2_bDJ0AO0X3T6FnismCEAYyHiYjSXjylRS1P9Y-nMDQ84hWg5Ul2vy1vu_C07CcAVxpJ6j-wu3RdwgqM3cQ6lS6VbEjRiTNnjRohBL-Zq38jIcdehbESNBQOXtRqr0CKgkFI0gE/s320/1*f5qt4fJNRO0LCTG0NRDrfw.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i class="jf">Combat de pierres</i><span class="jf"> by </span>Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore, 1931 (image <a href="https://timeline.com/claude-cahun-queer-photographer-75d9da5a1d40">via</a>)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0aG5qztupKTyGNWj4O6PI3LRHpdy4W0c5jalpxHILomhZyD9Kx4Le5nXvdm4xcep7zv3D2nsThfgCe0stVVj2ArKfT6wFR9VU_5y4x2l3hjLhda1N5DLGwH7qcgOjq3MzwruD8Mkz6Ng/s1280/1*X3A30z_Pu0tzKwox7bssHQ.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="973" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0aG5qztupKTyGNWj4O6PI3LRHpdy4W0c5jalpxHILomhZyD9Kx4Le5nXvdm4xcep7zv3D2nsThfgCe0stVVj2ArKfT6wFR9VU_5y4x2l3hjLhda1N5DLGwH7qcgOjq3MzwruD8Mkz6Ng/s320/1*X3A30z_Pu0tzKwox7bssHQ.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Que me veux tu? (What do you want from me?)</i> by Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore, 1929. (image <a href="https://timeline.com/claude-cahun-queer-photographer-75d9da5a1d40">via</a>)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUOiW60bb7jLRVzK409F3EacfQyt6X7Nu9poCEKzXUH_hF5VyLQ5uIA7EEN42OiycgrbOnmWRdg5M4vkrhrx6WeFQmABpkQYwZ_1h3qkBqWUK60Ix2_5Np0Wp3n5ACkka3vthlnG-ke_M/s1388/1*ox8CR4FqGLOYN84HiKn7hQ.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1388" data-original-width="1026" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUOiW60bb7jLRVzK409F3EacfQyt6X7Nu9poCEKzXUH_hF5VyLQ5uIA7EEN42OiycgrbOnmWRdg5M4vkrhrx6WeFQmABpkQYwZ_1h3qkBqWUK60Ix2_5Np0Wp3n5ACkka3vthlnG-ke_M/s320/1*ox8CR4FqGLOYN84HiKn7hQ.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Self Portrait</i>, by Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore, 1920. (image <a href="https://timeline.com/claude-cahun-queer-photographer-75d9da5a1d40">via</a>)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><blockquote><p><span style="color: #a64d79;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">"E – If you see me hesitating at the edge of pleasure, come and help me: remind me that I love</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">you.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">P – Love puts the least naive man in such a state of mind that he asks his hangman for help.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">E – Handsome? Me? – Yes: as if to say a handsome syphilis."</span> <br /></span></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">--Claude Cahun, from <i>Disavowals</i>. E and P are throwaway hypothetical characters whose purpose is unclear to me. </span><br /></span></p></blockquote><p>Here are some of the photocollages that Marcel Moore made from their photos to illustrate Cahun's books:</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio4qbAcinjM_EZVelNFp_AV9jfpTUXREs-m8i4ajPpLwnpQ9r89gUlDLxqO1JBoDTUk3eBexGmHFNkHFjzgQqBo5HnPIc3BZYM0TcLBUPyLg_RtSZAMceIigdWi7RW0mpx1Dkq_pQpKQA/s500/2499699067_3394cbaa74.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="299" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio4qbAcinjM_EZVelNFp_AV9jfpTUXREs-m8i4ajPpLwnpQ9r89gUlDLxqO1JBoDTUk3eBexGmHFNkHFjzgQqBo5HnPIc3BZYM0TcLBUPyLg_RtSZAMceIigdWi7RW0mpx1Dkq_pQpKQA/s320/2499699067_3394cbaa74.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photocollage by Marcel Moore to illustrate Claude Cahun's book. (image <a href="http://manfredunger-list.blogspot.com/2010/10/claude-cahun.html">via</a>)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhOKuloT1QyBX4oCtgs-iweiPH2oYWojPZ-gKntpFxdv8wNmtXBm6wnGp8jUxYeLOexjmNq8fE5db8knNYi1ac6U7Yy2uuvKaudEdAAL4n3e4JFfAm4OoZ3avI5AJfv3VlvgvBA6W5HJw/s372/cc_image8_hires.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="372" data-original-width="252" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhOKuloT1QyBX4oCtgs-iweiPH2oYWojPZ-gKntpFxdv8wNmtXBm6wnGp8jUxYeLOexjmNq8fE5db8knNYi1ac6U7Yy2uuvKaudEdAAL4n3e4JFfAm4OoZ3avI5AJfv3VlvgvBA6W5HJw/s320/cc_image8_hires.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photocollage by Marcel Moore to illustrate Claude Cahun's book. (image <a href="http://manfredunger-list.blogspot.com/2010/10/claude-cahun.html">via</a>)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><blockquote><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">“Permit me to warn reckless young women: seeing the trap doesn’t prevent you from getting caught in it and that doubles the pleasure." --Claude Cahun</span><br /></span></p></blockquote><p>As Hitler gained power in Germany Cahun and Moore's art turned increasingly political, as did their collaborative social circles. Cahun joined and helped to found a series of radical activist groups of artists and writers who opposed fascism and Stalinism. When Germany invaded France Cahun and Moore were so politically active that they were forced to flee to remote Jersey (a small island in Normandy, France, that is under British government). </p><p>Nearly a decade after Cahun and Moore initially met, their parents married, suddenly making them technically stepsisters. The odd sisterly title actually ended up helping them to quietly cohabitate without drawing too much attention once they relocated. They reverted to their inconspicuous birth names as well (Cahun was Lucy Renée Mathilde Schwob and Marcel was Suzanne Alberte Malherbe). Tucked away in Jersey, incognito, the raucaus avant-garde circles of Paris slowly began to forget about them. <br /></p><blockquote><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">“Under this mask, another mask. I will never be finished removing all these faces.” --Claude Cahun</span><br /></span></p></blockquote><p>Germany invaded Jersey in 1940 and Cahun and Moore went on the attack. Because the Nazis were using Jersey as a training ground, the island filled with vulnerable new recruits. The couple focused their efforts on sowing discord among them, sneakily bombarding recruits with allied information to try to flip their loyalties. They translated BBC radio broadcasts from English to German (because German soldiers would otherwise be exposed only to Nazi propaganda radio and be missing crucial information) and slipped these fliers discreetly into coat pockets, cigarette packs and magazines, under doors and tucked onto windshields. They stole German propaganda posters, cut them up and reassembled them into anti-Nazi propaganda, then discreetly distributed these as well. They wrote anti-Nazi propaganda fliers, both direct and in poetry. Since Marcel spoke fluent German they wrote letters pretending to be older disgruntled German soldiers, complaining and urging the new recruits not to join. </p><p>Obviously each instance of leafletting was outrageously dangerous. Yet Cahun and Moore were so prolific that Nazis actually believed Jersey was home to a massive secret cell of the Résistance. They were eventually found out and sentenced to death in 1944. They spent a year in a Nazi jail, during which they attempted together to kill themselves to control their own deaths, but were thwarted. They were saved just under the wire when the Allies won WWII and Jersey was liberated in 1945. </p><blockquote><p><span style="color: #a64d79;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">A proposal of marriage:</span> <br /></span></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><span style="color: #a64d79;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">I will take the place of variously girthed snakes. My torso will replace the ones that fill</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">your arms in an embrace. My thighs will obey you, well cast reptiles; [...]</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">Don’t concern yourself with formalities: I’ll take care of those. Heaven is short of</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">wings; and God no longer requires the consent of the mother land to facilitate the union of</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /></span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">bodies and souls. --Claude Cahun, from <i>Disavowals</i>. </span><br /></span></p></blockquote><p>A look back at their anti-Nazi resistance through an artistic lens may seem frivolous, given that the main goal was of course to defeat the Nazis. But consider that it is one of the few instances when surrealism was actually weaponized. And consider, again, Moore and Cahun's fading star and rising obscurity among the art world. Thus their audience became their enemies. They may have been forgotten in Paris but they were notorious to the Nazis, looming larger than life. The pair's poetry, alter egos, graphic design and photocollage was all for Nazi eyes. What had begun in Paris as a creative rebellion for an audience of friends had reached its conclusion as a pure attack delivered straight to the enemy in a battle to the death. Of course, even their earlier years in Paris were not without physical risk: they were openly queer, female-bodied, Jewish nonconformists in a hostile society. I suspect that Moore and Cahun had determined to risk death for their ideals before the Nazies were ever in Jersey.</p><blockquote><p><span style="color: #a64d79;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">"We’re only allies, only comrades through opposition –</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">against others.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">As soon as you isolate it, the species (in the concrete kingdom or the abstract</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">kingdom), generalisation, disintegrates; the Homeland breaks up into parishes; Paris into</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">arrondissements (russian doll); alone at last, the couple are flung apart, I separate from you,</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">the Aryan male himself renounces his solidarity with the Aryan female.</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">There are as many ways of being as there are stars; I wouldn’t know what more to</span><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); display: inline; float: none; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">say…" --Claude Cahun, from <i>Disavowals</i>. </span></span> <br /></p></blockquote><p>Physically, Cahun never recovered from hir treatment in the Nazi jail. The couple stayed in Jersey as hir health deteriorated and continued creating art and photography until Cahun died in 1954. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ZUGJwJ6GTBF76TKh21fOHmyKd3zMk8ESMgz1fMd0MWSeAfPCbHIXTjwqSVOoUzkt0lddVH-U0-pnNfRxnUnB0ScF9_aEYL1zYUmolh-4KBNr8aihpxkOusziWFQDYrdr54r8meZ0CiA/s879/claude-cahun-self-portraits-14.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="879" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ZUGJwJ6GTBF76TKh21fOHmyKd3zMk8ESMgz1fMd0MWSeAfPCbHIXTjwqSVOoUzkt0lddVH-U0-pnNfRxnUnB0ScF9_aEYL1zYUmolh-4KBNr8aihpxkOusziWFQDYrdr54r8meZ0CiA/s320/claude-cahun-self-portraits-14.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image of Claude Cahun holding grapes, wearing a Rococo/Edwardian wig, and lying on a leopard skin rug. (image <a href="https://www.elusivemu.se/2015/07/08/claude-cahun/">via</a>)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOfyfoSf-mlUxW7GwLmVWivrQVNJzeH2y1mtYd2j9uG2XaK9oLN8eOqWjTjHXDqlnTHflwkz8nampOQTEtTULPBW2JoYDvaE83TP2n3S_QJV3nXFXAYH1mYydoBKIW3l-obK9AROTRQ64/s2048/1*DaD_VtZczHI5rsncQKVkhw.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1231" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOfyfoSf-mlUxW7GwLmVWivrQVNJzeH2y1mtYd2j9uG2XaK9oLN8eOqWjTjHXDqlnTHflwkz8nampOQTEtTULPBW2JoYDvaE83TP2n3S_QJV3nXFXAYH1mYydoBKIW3l-obK9AROTRQ64/s320/1*DaD_VtZczHI5rsncQKVkhw.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cahun in 1945, liberated from Nazi jail and clutching a Nazi pin between hir teeth. (image <a href="https://timeline.com/claude-cahun-queer-photographer-75d9da5a1d40">via</a>)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE4xgzbGq9_IQAG8ixYnOB7Hi77eA1GC8iu5C6k4F2bYEFxmEUGJw6C_Vxcrh_2VtTbTy9iL1ELL8uWAdT-aGhb5QODMSX-0051aXuimMOcWly8bF5uqAxE3J7sCYNTRdAF3FKCcbEuKk/s800/le-chemin-de-chats.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="599" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE4xgzbGq9_IQAG8ixYnOB7Hi77eA1GC8iu5C6k4F2bYEFxmEUGJw6C_Vxcrh_2VtTbTy9iL1ELL8uWAdT-aGhb5QODMSX-0051aXuimMOcWly8bF5uqAxE3J7sCYNTRdAF3FKCcbEuKk/s320/le-chemin-de-chats.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> <i>Le Chemin de chats. </i>This was taken shortly before Cahun's death. Twenty years prior zie'd written to a surrealist poet friend about a dream zie'd had in which a cat led hir blindfolded; the cat represented impending death. (image <a href="http://asapjournal.com/a-review-of-gillian-wearing-and-claude-cahun-behind-the-mask-another-mask-felicity-gee/">via</a>)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>How unexpected, then, that Cahun's work was suddenly rediscovered in the 1980s by an art historian named <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fran%C3%A7ois_Leperlier">François Leperlier</a> while researching for his book on Surrealism. When Cahun had died hir estate and work was passed on to Marcel. But when Marcel killed hirself 18 years later in the 1972 their work was auctioned off (under Cahun's name). Leperlier did extraordinary work to reassemble the legacy, popularize hir in the art world and write Cahun's biography in the early 90s. The exploratory photographs of a searching identity found a rapt audience in an art world where queer theory was exploding. </p><p>Understandably, the photographic collaborations were misinterpreted at the time as Cahun's solo self portraiture project, and as such they were compared to the work of artists like <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cindy_Sherman">Cindy Sherman</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nan_Goldin">Nan Goldin</a> and <a href="https://hyperallergic.com/380097/a-conceptual-artist-pays-homage-to-surrealist-claude-cahuns-performance-of-identity/">Gillian Wearing</a>. Interestingly enough Cahun's 1920s contemporaries likely considered hir work as closer to Marcel Duchamp's dadaist antics, in that Cahun's gender-bending personas and writing echo Duchamp's female persona of Rrose Selavy which he used as a nom de plume and the cheeky self portrait photographs he took as "Rrose." Most recently people in the music world like David Bowie and Air also dedicated efforts to organizing exhibits of Cahun's work. What an odd time-bending legacy. <br /></p><p>Here is the portrait I drew of Claude Cahun based on hir work. I kept it relatively simple, stealing a bit of the "I Am In Training Do Not Kiss Me" makeup but keeping Cahun's own shorn hair. I stole the particular pose from part of the series of photos of Cahun dressed as an angel. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxycgcG3RNAArALin_-mh8GPfqUoYkh_f0z56Pf6KmQGQM12TnrupX5ON3XBoTw8XMHdTXZewY6ZG9s8IvZSkqoC5fHXgY1wuIjLcHzziUGuO-pKSiS0iAIbvKpAWGXlLFXYgl-A7GIcM/s1600/2-Claude-Cahun-by-Ciana-Pullen-SAMPLE.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1058" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxycgcG3RNAArALin_-mh8GPfqUoYkh_f0z56Pf6KmQGQM12TnrupX5ON3XBoTw8XMHdTXZewY6ZG9s8IvZSkqoC5fHXgY1wuIjLcHzziUGuO-pKSiS0iAIbvKpAWGXlLFXYgl-A7GIcM/w424-h640/2-Claude-Cahun-by-Ciana-Pullen-SAMPLE.jpeg" width="424" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><i>* I spent freaking ALL NIGHT trying to figure out what to do here with pronouns, researching and reading primary sources. A genuinely good case could be made for either female-gendering Cahun or non-binary-gendering Cahun. I genuinely can't decide, and in cases where the gender is unknown it's appropriate to go with they or zie. By using these pronouns I'm not trying to declare that Cahun WASN'T a woman or female; I simply don't know. So here's a quick rundown of the case for each pronoun:</i></p><p><i>The case for nonbinary, or genderqueer, third gender, trans, or agender:</i></p><p><i>1. Most of Cahun's photography pointedly involves gender identity, where it flows between appearing conventionally masculine - feminine - neither - both. <br /></i></p><p><i>2. The chosen name Claude is gender-neutral in French.</i></p><p><i>3. In 1929 Cahun translated Victorian psychologist Havelock Ellis' theories on the third gender, part of his progressive and open-minded studies of sexuality; the issue was clearly important to Cahun.</i></p><p><i>4. Cahun constantly wrote about masks and feeling ill at ease with hir body.</i></p><p><i>5. In zir autobiography Cahun wrote, “Shuffle the cards. Masculine? Feminine? It depends on the situation. Neuter is the only gender that always suits me.”</i></p><p><i>The case for feminine/her pronouns:</i></p><p><i>1. I read that Cahun frequently referred to hirself as "she/her" in letters, especially through the 1920s. I didn't do further research to find those letters to confirm; that's a helluva lot of research. </i></p><p><i>2. Most academic writing refers to Cahun as she/her. These folks actually have pored through all the letters, writing and primary sources and arrived at that conclusion. I assume they mostly have good reasons. I tried to find out more about that, but was unable to. </i></p><p><i>3. It's a struggle to know what Cahun would've preferred, if offered modern concepts and language surrounding gender. Given that it's all guesswork, many writers are uncomfortable choosing Cahun's pronouns and instead default to the pronouns of Cahun's time that zie was at least familiar with. </i></p><p><i>4. That excerpt from the autobiography I just quoted above and repeated so often out of context? It's not so much an autobiography as a self-described "anti-realist surrealist anti-confessional," in which Cahun explicitly writes that nothing in it should be taken realistically, factually or at face value. It's written as a collection of difficult-to-decipher poetry fragments. Though I'm admittedly not a poetry person, I took a stab at reading it and found it to be beyond convoluted and interminably lengthy given the cerebral style-- though if you bite off little chunks here and there it's actually very interesting, painfully honest and at times lyrical and funny. Most of it is about God and exploring truth through conversations and conversational "exercises" among various characters who may or may not represent fragments of Cahun. "Cards" frequently are used as an extended metaphor of playing a strategic game with/against God. "Female" and "male" thoughts are explored a bit prior as allegorical characters that interact with each other in very unclear ways. The quote may or not be part of an extended metaphor-- again, I cannot emphasize enough just how unclear Cahun's book is. But from my tenuous grasp on the passage, the choice between masculine/feminine appears to be part of an appeal for absolution from God, and choosing in which gender to present hirself to God will retroactively affect that decision; in the next line Cahun declares that choosing the neuter gender will make hir "a good little worker bee." Though the quote seems, on the surface, to be a straightforward reason to gender Cahun as "zie/they," I find it unlikely that Cahun would've written an entire book that is this abstruse-- only to stop briefly in the middle and deliver clear, realistic instructions about gendering hir that are meant to be taken literally in the real world. <br /></i></p><p><i>5. Besides that autobiographical excerpt there's apparently not much that Cahun wrote that reveals an explicit pronoun preference. I've read this assertion several times from "big-name" art sites that have an actual professional staff, but I haven't followed up to confirm it myself. <br /></i></p><p><i>From this debate the question naturally arises: is it even appropriate to include a nonbinary person in this series of women artists? Yeah, I say it is. This series isn't about celebrating vaginas or goddess-essences or inherent femininity. It's about bringing attention to artists who were overlooked by the fame-machine because the world saw them as women, and it's about showing that despite the overwhelming obstacles placed before certain artists because the world saw them as women, an overwhelming amount of them became successful anyway. I want to combat the notion that only men worked outside the home and that only men were artists except the Big Three (Frida, Georgia, Artemisia). I also want to combat the practice of discussing women artist's work as out of context with their contemporaries, as not influencing those around them and unconnected to society. I'd like to avoid forcing these artists into "hero/role-model" jobs that they never asked for and to avoid forcing the common narrative that all of their work is about being a woman and that you can visually discern their indelible womanness in their very brushstrokes. </i></p><p><i>Cahun fits right into this series on all those criteria. The only alternative would be to include only artists who identified as women in a series of women artists, but wow does that present a lot of problems. First, the vast majority of pre-20th century women had no choice about how they identified or presented, so you just have to assume that if a woman looked... conventionally female from the outside (wearing female clothes, married to a man, not "acting masculine") then she identified as female. That's a bad assumption. Then there are the unconventional women. They didn't have the language or even the concepts we have today and they largely couldn't be open about it, so what we have to go on is murky. </i></p><p><i>What does it mean that a Victorian woman wore pants and lived with another woman? Is she a cis lesbian? Trans? Cis, straight, and just trying to be comfortable among friends? A straight cis woman who objected to marriage and gender oppression? There are an extremely high number of these hard-to-call cases since nonconformists and queer people seem always to have been drawn to the arts. Then consider that being an artist itself WAS unconventionally feminine behavior which frequently sparked rumors. To complicate matters more, a Victorian artist trying to express butch lesbian identity with no social concepts to grab onto could easily have reached for the masculine expressions that we would today interpret as trans, and vice versa (though I don't think this is the case with Cahun). The only way to play it safe and to only include self-identified women, would be to exclude all of the possibly queer people. Even then you're just assuming that all the non-queer-presenting women were on board. </i></p><p><i>Including every artist pre-mid-20th century who wasn't a man, under "women artists" is a very flawed solution. It just beats the alternative. Maybe someone will eventually come up with something better. </i><br /></p><br />Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-44864059174892581762020-11-07T14:48:00.005-05:002020-11-07T14:48:41.642-05:00Inktober Day 1: Elisabeth-Louise Vigée Le Brun<div><p>She's best known today as the personal portraitist for Marie Antoinette. But Vigée Le Brun's life started far from Versailles as the daughter of a fan painter and hairdresser. She was largely self-taught but soaked up whatever advice she could get, first from her father, and after his death from several professional painters in her limited social orbit. First her widowed mother and then Elisabeth made advantageous marriages, however, and she used her newfound society contacts to open a small portrait studio of her own. When the authorities heard they raided and shut it down because it was unlicensed (<i>a portrait studio can be illicit- who knew?</i>). So she began the official Academic process of becoming an artist,* eventually catching the eye of Marie Antoinette and other nobility. Purportedly Le Brun (also spelled Lebrun) was an excellent conversationalist-- a crucial skill for moving through the ranks at Versailles-- which meant no one dreaded having to sit for portraits with her like they typically would. As a result the images are strikingly friendly and relaxed for their time. </p><p><i>*I'll write a separate post about the Academic System since it was such a crucial part of the history of European art in the 18th and 19th centuries and is unlike anything we have today. I'll be referring to it over and over throughout these Inktober bios.</i> <br /></p><p>Here are some of her society portraits:</p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_YcI5B_xiyYL6Bdp74Wketnuocc5byBX2jFLtsfsmf-6Ugby4kynPCmjHR7gRbnaFbI0DXOrYVNFANWrMp-tx8VdSefYSqvQIJYIciNh11xo764xHXoDxGAxJJdcLIwI3qSydPOdIbzI/s1198/746px-Elizabeth_Vigee_Lebrun_-_Portrait_of_Mohammed_Dervish_Khan_366N10007_B3Y2Q.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="746" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_YcI5B_xiyYL6Bdp74Wketnuocc5byBX2jFLtsfsmf-6Ugby4kynPCmjHR7gRbnaFbI0DXOrYVNFANWrMp-tx8VdSefYSqvQIJYIciNh11xo764xHXoDxGAxJJdcLIwI3qSydPOdIbzI/s320/746px-Elizabeth_Vigee_Lebrun_-_Portrait_of_Mohammed_Dervish_Khan_366N10007_B3Y2Q.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Portrait of Mohammed Dervish Khan, by Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun (via Wikimedia commons). This depicts him as an immovable mountain of a man, which was unusual for Vigée Le Brun (perhaps she didn't often get a chance as most of her clientele were demure ladies and fancy men). However the fine treatment of the fabric (that white hem!) and Rococo-style lightness of the sky and landscape, were quite typical of her work. Moreover the animated narrative of character-- in Khan's case dominance-- was one of Vigée Le Brun's particular strengths. A client could depend upon her to portray them in an engaging way. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoJSy5U18K7zUDmiLhJOu0U6lYnhg55IV2XdOxoUZfgwdCoAEt-WxPNI8oCbhBkCzYksdvGSuEZsgmyXrq7A8lcjrD0l6yiSW825jHy-QsvmjO3rmvgeEnfzqLrtPasq_OKdnGKEDlYPg/s1199/952px-The_Barber_Institute_of_Fine_Arts_-_Elisabeth_Vige%25CC%2581e-Lebrun_-_Portrait_of_Countess_Golovina.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="952" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoJSy5U18K7zUDmiLhJOu0U6lYnhg55IV2XdOxoUZfgwdCoAEt-WxPNI8oCbhBkCzYksdvGSuEZsgmyXrq7A8lcjrD0l6yiSW825jHy-QsvmjO3rmvgeEnfzqLrtPasq_OKdnGKEDlYPg/s320/952px-The_Barber_Institute_of_Fine_Arts_-_Elisabeth_Vige%25CC%2581e-Lebrun_-_Portrait_of_Countess_Golovina.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Portrait of Countess Golovina</i>, c. 1800, by Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun (via Wikimedia commons). <i>This pose is reminiscent of her more theatrical work, as it was common to paint noble ladies in character as classical Greek goddesses or other respectable dramatic roles. Such portraits ranged from striking (such as an unusual pose and costume) to ridiculous (self-conscious nobility floating through the sky in togas) and didn't take themselves very seriously. They were just a way for ladies to be divas without losing their modesty. They're not to be confused with the ultimate respectable genre of History Painting, in which classical events were treated in a very serious and grandiose manner.</i> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIN94pxbMSa1PU2JcnJRhpCI0T5a4-S0Ry0E_zHUInmWNuvZhiDfhw8iNPyHBsToiSPkgpOZzJ4vjwrMQPkFlA58O49qhwBT3WQRZWgoqwvQBb2I6x_PgrLLCM6Gpwq1DnFAHrIw8Ltq8/s1552/1552px-E%25CC%2581lisabeth_Vige%25CC%2581e_Le_Brun._La_paix_ramenant_l%2527abondance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="1552" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIN94pxbMSa1PU2JcnJRhpCI0T5a4-S0Ry0E_zHUInmWNuvZhiDfhw8iNPyHBsToiSPkgpOZzJ4vjwrMQPkFlA58O49qhwBT3WQRZWgoqwvQBb2I6x_PgrLLCM6Gpwq1DnFAHrIw8Ltq8/w400-h310/1552px-E%25CC%2581lisabeth_Vige%25CC%2581e_Le_Brun._La_paix_ramenant_l%2527abondance.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peace Restoring Abundance</i>, 1783, by Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun (via Wikimedia Commons). <i>Representing abstract ideas as hot ladies was called "allegorical painting." It was taken very seriously. You can see here that Vigée Le Brun was tiptoeing near the glass ceiling which separated portrait artists and decorative artists from "serious" art. This is suitable decorative and "feminine" in nature but can hold its own next to a history painting. Later in her career Vigée Le Brun would again seek to break through to the serious, prestigious side of painting.</i> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg68l9XoJKpORryJUc71cuBRX6ZdmP7Iy0j3Y-YlOIV8UL5xdE0yd9zuNMrgatgICzAimV6z5-x8R6L3Q88BwLpDDb_3UR6GUgtCXaCs0GVEeT7EZevAl2UR1tMgY9tQl7sMWfCnefUOE/s1200/Madame_Vigee-Lebrun_and_her_daughter%252C_Jeanne_Lucia_%2528Julie%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="966" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg68l9XoJKpORryJUc71cuBRX6ZdmP7Iy0j3Y-YlOIV8UL5xdE0yd9zuNMrgatgICzAimV6z5-x8R6L3Q88BwLpDDb_3UR6GUgtCXaCs0GVEeT7EZevAl2UR1tMgY9tQl7sMWfCnefUOE/s320/Madame_Vigee-Lebrun_and_her_daughter%252C_Jeanne_Lucia_%2528Julie%2529.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Self Portrait With Her Daughter Julie</i>, by Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun (via Wikimedia Commons). <i>This caused a scandal, believe it or not. One court gossip sheet wrote,</i> "An affectation which artists, art-lovers and persons of taste have been
united in condemning, and which finds no precedent among the Ancients,
is that in smiling, [Madame Vigée LeBrun] shows her teeth." <i>Vegée Le Brun's self portrait reminds me of Dutch painter Judith Leyster's self portrait of 1630, in which she's also relaxed and smiling with her mouth slightly open. This was likely acceptable because the painting was not only from another era but also misattributed to Frans Hals, who would've been creating an admiring depiction of a woman by a man. That was allowed much more leeway than women frankly depicting themselves, as evidenced in Fragonard's The Swing, 1767 (a contemporary of Vigée Le Brun). The fact that this image drove Simone de Bouvoir to dismiss her from the 20th Century canon of great women artists is more baffling to me; she apparently took issue with its "in your face" motherhood. Weird. Julie was her only child, and I think showing her off like this is... not feminist exactly, but you can tell she's proud of her daughter and genuinely likes her.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMF8b0BN_p8EunAGuqsrPS0jZQ4NktGz4we5uWdoGz0ozPbqmjCRdHu2qiE-cJHy-5T4lsvYijPkWYYODF6OVy0-ruI0fVXfJWx1-QchbKJAZSUefisDR1m3k-ISbrEtc1xIL0zl2oKhw/s1200/E%25CC%2581lisabeth-Louise_Vige%25CC%2581e-Le_Brun_-_Hubert_Robert_%25281788%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="964" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMF8b0BN_p8EunAGuqsrPS0jZQ4NktGz4we5uWdoGz0ozPbqmjCRdHu2qiE-cJHy-5T4lsvYijPkWYYODF6OVy0-ruI0fVXfJWx1-QchbKJAZSUefisDR1m3k-ISbrEtc1xIL0zl2oKhw/s320/E%25CC%2581lisabeth-Louise_Vige%25CC%2581e-Le_Brun_-_Hubert_Robert_%25281788%2529.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Portrait of Hubert Robert</i> (1788), by Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun. <i>I love this portrait and its vivacity. Vigée Le Brun's skill with painting pretty women, fine fabrics and dainty accessories served her well at court, but she certainly didn't lean on those gimmicks to create a good painting. </i><i>Her portraits of men are where her best techniques had freer range; in
terms of surface, brushwork, composition, power and originality, many have noticed that her male and female portraits are markedly different.</i> <i><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVi2IS8oFCVGLn7JUU01pwXu_Smyf3Jbjykb7NRayhaY9nRBNe5qgKgG9JP38qxmg93lNc4o_zE_44xzlbp5LX2QtjqEr-yswXMpNbNPHiYWnkle3hRvDTlYUUZRodqN0Kmx-Rz7ELlnI/s1198/Portrait_Of_The_Artists_Brother_by_E%25CC%2581lisabeth_Vige%25CC%2581e-Lebrun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="1010" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVi2IS8oFCVGLn7JUU01pwXu_Smyf3Jbjykb7NRayhaY9nRBNe5qgKgG9JP38qxmg93lNc4o_zE_44xzlbp5LX2QtjqEr-yswXMpNbNPHiYWnkle3hRvDTlYUUZRodqN0Kmx-Rz7ELlnI/s320/Portrait_Of_The_Artists_Brother_by_E%25CC%2581lisabeth_Vige%25CC%2581e-Lebrun.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Portrait of the Artist's Brother</i> (1773) by Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun (via Wikimedia Commons). <i>This sensitive portrait is of Elisabeth's little brother around age 15 in "schoolboy dress." The extreme light and dark is called "chiaroscuro" and was a favorite of the generation of painters who came before Le Brun, like the Italian Baroque painters Caravaggio and Gentileschi. However you can see the clear Rococo style in the softer "breathier" outlines and brushwork, the more delicate handling of light and reflection, and the almost Impressionistic color play on the cheeks and background. Where the Baroque painters created a bold sense of monumental timelessness carved neatly in stone, the Rococo painters were after a lifelike essence, that spark of wit and gust of wind which reflected the Enlightenment ideals of humanism and the gallop of social progress, ideas and culture. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table> </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQbkowcNMB3PtXVnYc7oDsCVMnB_xQlSyOIp_CZX97omQ-0RQSG9TasXojslzai-zmvYPo8Te6Z5J_bralWwJevGWonwWWciWb2XWrncZJI6UyAp_w7MEi3UwNU6yxD6_b_XU2wHZ-VgE/s1197/Louise_Elisabeth_Vige%25CC%2581e-Lebrun_-_Marie-Antoinette_de_Lorraine-Habsbourg%252C_reine_de_France_et_ses_enfants_-_Google_Art_Project1787.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1197" data-original-width="935" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQbkowcNMB3PtXVnYc7oDsCVMnB_xQlSyOIp_CZX97omQ-0RQSG9TasXojslzai-zmvYPo8Te6Z5J_bralWwJevGWonwWWciWb2XWrncZJI6UyAp_w7MEi3UwNU6yxD6_b_XU2wHZ-VgE/w313-h400/Louise_Elisabeth_Vige%25CC%2581e-Lebrun_-_Marie-Antoinette_de_Lorraine-Habsbourg%252C_reine_de_France_et_ses_enfants_-_Google_Art_Project1787.jpg" width="313" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Marie Antoinette With Her Children</i>, 1787, by Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun (via Wikimedia Commons). <i>The goal here, aside from the Queen's personal fondness for her family, was to improve Marie Antoinette's public image as a loving mother. Marie Antoinette relied upon Vigée Lebrun to help her public image to walk the fine line of respectability and relatability. They obviously didn't succeed in the end, but what portrait could quell the French Revolution?</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcuKW1dfubmN_Khyphenhyphenzja27l605-zA4MxrBZ4hyphenhypheng4qjHmfQ1iRj2qHSPv0m-kwdp3Gon2SwQ0mnzMGQvJVtXGPDB9Raf-p_xIE0i1_2RLQVMhxBeH5MwwscNmuE7QSVsqTEBnyltQfUVbJU/s1199/958px-MA-Lebrun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="958" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcuKW1dfubmN_Khyphenhyphenzja27l605-zA4MxrBZ4hyphenhypheng4qjHmfQ1iRj2qHSPv0m-kwdp3Gon2SwQ0mnzMGQvJVtXGPDB9Raf-p_xIE0i1_2RLQVMhxBeH5MwwscNmuE7QSVsqTEBnyltQfUVbJU/s320/958px-MA-Lebrun.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Marie Antoinette in a Robe de Gaulle</i> (1783) by Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun (via Wikimedia Commons). <i>This created a significantly larger scandal. This was during Marie Antoinette's "farm girl" phase, when she had a small, relatively informal palace and farm-like garden constructed where she could retreat and let her hair down a bit, acting out her bucolic fantasy with her friends and letting her children run around and play. The dress she wears is, believe it or not, extremely informal and therein lies the scandal. These sorts of casual gathered muslin dresses, called Robe a la Creole or Robe de Gaulle, were a striking departure from the boxy formalwear of the day. It's topped off with a simple straw hat and gold sash, with a bouquet of roses that the Queen appears to have gathered herself. This portrait contains no reference to the King or to her role as Queen or mother, nor any reference to courtly life at Versailles which she had grown to loathe and rebel against. It shows her instead as a fully private, independent, rustic entity. It did NOT go over well. The court was outraged at the overt diss and took her personal independence as an insult to the institution of monarchy. All of this objection was focused on the Queen's rustic attire. The public, on the other hand, was outraged because the country dress resembled a chemise, and they thought the Queen was painted in her underwear. It cemented her undeserved reputation as an evil sex-crazed deviant. The popular dress style even got the pejorative nickname "the Queen's underpants" (chemise de la reine). To add insult to injury the dress was made from imported British cotton, and as the fashion caught on it hurt the French silk industry. Today the painting endures not as a scandal but as the most appealing portrait of the Queen and a glimpse into her personal world. </i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table> <p></p><p>Vigée Le Brun's artistic world opened further when she was able to travel to the Netherlands in 1781 to see the works of the great Dutch and Flemish masters like Rembrandt, Vermeer, Leyster, Rubens and Frans Hals. Their brilliant treatment of light and color, their intimate and casual atmosphere, and their more nuanced approach to chiaroscuro deeply influenced Le Brun's work. <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG5wFouZdpRVxsAWSOIQAtiHYWQR03W346kho8syh5yqLr_x9vXLyJXrRoJgWJRZi1YP6uuZxcCSl14X5NLJz6iF8kX_-OeGnWGy1227hrmnD4OqrRJ6akq4gloQz_VjpHbIQgAT5A9rI/s1198/868px-Isabella_Teotochi_Albrizzi.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="868" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG5wFouZdpRVxsAWSOIQAtiHYWQR03W346kho8syh5yqLr_x9vXLyJXrRoJgWJRZi1YP6uuZxcCSl14X5NLJz6iF8kX_-OeGnWGy1227hrmnD4OqrRJ6akq4gloQz_VjpHbIQgAT5A9rI/s320/868px-Isabella_Teotochi_Albrizzi.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Portrait of Isabella Teotochi Albrizzi</i> (1792) by Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun (via Wikimedia Commons). This pastel portrait exhibits a bright clear palette and almost impressionistic treatment of light, reminiscent of Vermeer especially. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhas-qcgfX0THZpbOGL_Ofq25RQPOh_1x56DQ565JTXclVtoZVTK7hB8vO_N_rtMSOkhitNJt2psIYoJuuwtH8hI8M5CbGXSWvleg8RCwJXXWrWAqXw4X_-MCTrfHsUUR-wgVsXOndV8CM/s1198/Vige%25CC%2581e_Le_Brun_Baronne_de_Crussol_%2528RO_307%2529_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="850" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhas-qcgfX0THZpbOGL_Ofq25RQPOh_1x56DQ565JTXclVtoZVTK7hB8vO_N_rtMSOkhitNJt2psIYoJuuwtH8hI8M5CbGXSWvleg8RCwJXXWrWAqXw4X_-MCTrfHsUUR-wgVsXOndV8CM/s320/Vige%25CC%2581e_Le_Brun_Baronne_de_Crussol_%2528RO_307%2529_2.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Portrait of Baronne de Crussol</i> (1785) by Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun. There is so much Dutch influence here: rich cheerful colors, the watery light and background, the tilted head with a throwaway gaze tossed back toward the viewer. Even the dress, though spectacularly fashionable for its time, recalls the bold trim and shape of the Dutch Golden Age (mid-1600s). <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQVjnFcqtQ5IwzJwblABNmLT-cVQXxaGH7h8OIi26QRBa9w1w1QpgPfNTlbjNcR8vxdC7uSXNU19IANygwmFKXBJbVuaFXadM1vqINEwhjcf-9hJR8VWCRCQgoc9-99widFg8OCneeECQ/s1199/852px-Gabrielle_de_Polastron.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="852" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQVjnFcqtQ5IwzJwblABNmLT-cVQXxaGH7h8OIi26QRBa9w1w1QpgPfNTlbjNcR8vxdC7uSXNU19IANygwmFKXBJbVuaFXadM1vqINEwhjcf-9hJR8VWCRCQgoc9-99widFg8OCneeECQ/s320/852px-Gabrielle_de_Polastron.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Portrait of Yolande Martine Gabrielle de Polastron</i>, 1783. The atmosphere, palette and light recall the work of Rembrandt. She's also wearing the rustic Robe de la Creole like Marie Antoinette's portrait from the same year. With perfect manners, an innocent demeanor and a spicy lust for gossip, Gabrielle was an overt favorite of the Queen and thus hated by the rest of the court. Poisonous gossip swirled around her, namely that she and Marie Antoinette were lesbian lovers (there's no basis for this), specifically that they loved to scissor! Anyway I think the outfit in this portrait is a reference to her status as the Queen's favorite who was invited to her inner circle at the Petit Trianon (Marie Antoinette's private make-believe farm palace), and that Vigée Le Brun captured her studied innocence perfectly. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div></div><div></div><div> </div><div>After the French Revolution Vigée Le Brun fled France, traveling Europe and staying with high society associates in Italy, Austria and Russia. She worked as a traveling portraitist to foreign nobility, witnessing Napoleon's rise from the faraway safety of the Russian court. </div><div><br /></div><div>With the fall of the French monarchy the Rococo style also fell out of favor. Napoleon's favorite Jacques Louis David embodied the new style of neoclassicism: sober, intellectual, simpler in composition, with perfectly shaded forms whose edges were as clear and sharp as a razor. Of course, with as many references to ancient Greece and Rome as possible. The influence of the Baroque Italian masters also loomed large. </div><div></div><div> </div><div>Vigée Le Brun never completely adopted this style, particularly the crispness, but she adapted and seems to have been a true fan. She adopted an earth-toned palette which recalled Rome and antiquity. Her compositions became more simple and statuesque. As portraiture became more serious and classically influenced, her work was more easily able to cross over into history painting. <br /><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-OPwNMH5MEu41E9UEHMVzSTqUTRALgBOzs7iHLpVF83TDIo-NR_6RxFG2bPgmQssufPqoDDGRIjpV66-PZOdqMx8rWhI8zOVivu2Wnl9SuL-MzMtR3-u1rHI03jBCT4E0RDZ7v1EjxY/s1199/1018px-Vige%25CC%2581e-Lebrun_Helena_Radziwi%25C5%2582%25C5%2582.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="1018" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-OPwNMH5MEu41E9UEHMVzSTqUTRALgBOzs7iHLpVF83TDIo-NR_6RxFG2bPgmQssufPqoDDGRIjpV66-PZOdqMx8rWhI8zOVivu2Wnl9SuL-MzMtR3-u1rHI03jBCT4E0RDZ7v1EjxY/s320/1018px-Vige%25CC%2581e-Lebrun_Helena_Radziwi%25C5%2582%25C5%2582.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Portrait of Helena Radziwiłł née Przeździecka</i> (c. 1802-5) by Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun (via Wikimedia Commons). <i>This woman was a Polish Princess but she looks like a wise and practical woman of the world. Just compare her frugal clothing and level facial expression with the ostentatious whimsy of Versailles just twenty years prior.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgdMboTQT4eEhhQP_FnVj216QoBUJ3iaJMAD8N8rtzHec-vonrRGIjErvZvxkyFLkwDxqRAHW6G1uhDCKOlVBFFC6kssqDP4lEZIM5_c5u8PvGAf7B0PZ2ccV4aeKC8RcrNfhx6k-AbgE/s1089/Natalia_Kurakina_by_Vige%25CC%2581e-Lebrun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1089" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgdMboTQT4eEhhQP_FnVj216QoBUJ3iaJMAD8N8rtzHec-vonrRGIjErvZvxkyFLkwDxqRAHW6G1uhDCKOlVBFFC6kssqDP4lEZIM5_c5u8PvGAf7B0PZ2ccV4aeKC8RcrNfhx6k-AbgE/s320/Natalia_Kurakina_by_Vige%25CC%2581e-Lebrun.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Portrait of Natalia Kurakina</i> (1797) by Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun (image via Wikimedia Commons). With its earthy color palette and subdued pose, Le Brun has clearly moved into her Neoclassical phase. But she marries the clear-headed simplicity with the friendly nuanced movement which was her calling card and created an extremely appealing portrait. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8p4x3UL55Yv_ycH6OU_WGoppNlvN89Utq97KxBP5i5K5jPRDbNbFM8ZdoRU1pn_nRqpkVIGs4VHf-etWcw7x559VU_5NwO8dQL9j6q5wcBzYZALzL7byhoZwG8ElGacxiCWX_h3mYS0A/s1198/930px-Elisabeth_Vige%25CC%2581e-Lebrun_-_Lady_Hamilton_as_the_Persian_Sibyl.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="930" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8p4x3UL55Yv_ycH6OU_WGoppNlvN89Utq97KxBP5i5K5jPRDbNbFM8ZdoRU1pn_nRqpkVIGs4VHf-etWcw7x559VU_5NwO8dQL9j6q5wcBzYZALzL7byhoZwG8ElGacxiCWX_h3mYS0A/s320/930px-Elisabeth_Vige%25CC%2581e-Lebrun_-_Lady_Hamilton_as_the_Persian_Sibyl.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Lady Hamilton as the Persian Sybil</i> (1792) by Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun (via Wikimedia Commons). <i>This piece doesn't do anything special for me but Vigée Le Brun considered this the best work she ever did. It does perfectly embody the static composition, smoothly shaded forms, earthen color scheme and Classical reference which dominated the Neoclassical style. Though some softness and vibrancy of the Rococo style remains, it represents a welcomed end to frivolousness. </i> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><p>This is my own portrait of Vigée Le Brun, drawn in pen. I used one of her self portraits as a reference, which she completed as an homage to the Dutch masters. Her colors are clear and atmospheric, and even her straw hat is a reference to a particular Dutch work. I couldn't reference the colors obviously but I tried to keep the linework light and bright. The pen's detail point was perfectly suited to mimic the softness of her blending and brushwork. I also heavily cropped Le Brun's portrait so that I could concentrate on the contours and detail, and so that I could place her figure moving out of frame while glancing back, to capitalize on Le Brun's heavy use of implied movement and visual narrative. <br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxfz7legK4xZiKMbUyTwvtxoFuh4S6BAi2E3cOjt7uG0ozOUhJU-MIb403yaeQbfzxJxRCkjw6tDFKoBEDS7xh6yLkbIa-9P6S1Kyjd3uI6EtyU0ytEF4W2q3HdMCTToG8OjR3vJO0vHE/s1600/1-elizabeth+louise+vigee-lebrun-SAMPLE.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1058" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxfz7legK4xZiKMbUyTwvtxoFuh4S6BAi2E3cOjt7uG0ozOUhJU-MIb403yaeQbfzxJxRCkjw6tDFKoBEDS7xh6yLkbIa-9P6S1Kyjd3uI6EtyU0ytEF4W2q3HdMCTToG8OjR3vJO0vHE/w424-h640/1-elizabeth+louise+vigee-lebrun-SAMPLE.jpeg" width="424" /></a></div><br /> <p></p></div>Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-56117536912690465962020-11-01T16:02:00.077-05:002020-11-02T19:17:17.287-05:00Prepare yourself... for my INKTOBER!<p> I finally finished the month-long Inktober challenge! I've been posting the results on my Instagram account (@st.rhinoceros) but I'm going to post them here in the upcoming days with more supplemental info and better quality pics than on IG. </p><p>So... what is <a href="https://inktober.com/">Inktober</a>? It's a recurring yearly challenge to complete one drawing every day through October, in ink, and then post it on the social media of your choice with the hashtag #inktober. It's meant to help you practice, to motivate you, and to find some community in an normally solitary pursuit. There's an official (though optional) list of prompt words like "poison" or "crawl" that are meant to help stimulate creativity (and it's fun to see what everyone else came up with along the theme), as well as unofficial fan prompt lists with themes like witches or Marvel. There's no entry, judges or prize. No rules either, but the "traditional" way is to hand-ink (using brush, pen, whatever) in black and white. It is acceptable to plan and sketch in pencil beforehand (the prompt list is released a month ahead of time). Some people add one color or many, some use another medium entirely, some work digitally. Some choose their own theme or project (like illustrating a book), others complete one single complex drawing by adding bits to it daily. Whatever helps you progress in your own goals. Many people discuss the process further on YouTube, from professional illustrators to middle schoolers making Naruto fan-art. I recommend their videos. <br /></p><p>This is my third year doing Inktober, and my first to forego the prompt list. The previous years were exercises in soul-searching and pushing the intuitive surrealist process of trying to express real feelings with integrity, but this year I wanted to go back to basics, which for me is portraiture. I decided instead to draw a daily portrait of a lesser-known female artist and include a short bio to place them in historical context. But I quickly found there were way, way too many artists to include. So I came up with these parameters:</p><p>1. <i><b>Must not be too contemporary</b></i>. My cut-off is the 1920s-30s for the artist's heyday. My reasoning is that there's a myth that until the 20th century women were at home not participating in society, so I wanted to address that misconception by focusing on the 18th and 19th centuries. I'm tired of reading the phrase, "she was the only woman in the Impressionist circle," over and over about many different women. At some point you realize... the Impressionist circle was filled with women, each written about as if they were the only one. Rinse and repeat with Dadaism, Surrealism and so on.<br /></p><p>2. <i><b>Must have spent a personally significant time in Paris</b></i>. Could be lifelong, could be that they just studied there and returned home, could be that they fled there briefly as a refugee. But I narrowed the focus to Paris because a) I like reading about Paris and b) it's fun to gradually discover who knew whom and what they thought of each other. I already knew a bit about Parisian social circles of the 19th and 20th century so I could build on that. </p><p>Unfortunately because Paris didn't become a destination for artists until the 1800s, I'm missing the Baroque and Renaissance women (and they are legion!). The artistic and cultural mecca for the 16th and 17th centuries was Rome and greater Italy, followed by Madrid and Amsterdam in the 1600s. Paris was just a cultural backwater until King Louis XIV (The Sun King) initiated a campaign to make Paris synonymous with luxury craftsmen and style. The reputation gradually caught on, and with the nobility concentrated at Versailles many French painters clustered around them in the 1700s for sponsorship. Foreign artists began traveling to Paris to study or relocate in the mid 1800s.</p><p>Another significant group that this leaves out is <i>the entire non-Western art world</i>. This is on purpose because a) that is way too many people and I need to narrow my focus and b) I don't know nearly as much about the art of Asia, the Middle East, Africa and South America. I don't know where to go digging for research on obscure women artists or how to gauge the impact they may have had on movements I've never heard of, or how to compare them to their peers who I've also never heard of. When non-Western artists traveled to Paris to study and combined Western practice and ideas with their cultural artistic background, then I'm confident enough to include them, and I have. </p><p>Finally, of course, the focus on Paris excludes all those who either couldn't afford to travel and study there, and those who simply didn't want to (I'm looking at YOU, Scandinavia! You smug <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hilma_af_Klint">homebodies</a>). <br /></p><p>3. <i><b>Must have left behind lots of work that is available for online perusing</b></i>. What's the fun of introducing people to a new artist if they can't immediately turn around and google their artwork?Unfortunately many female artists left a scanty legacy because we're not really sure which work was theirs. It was misattributed to their husbands, teachers or the nearest available male artist. Because female artists were considered unimportant or unserious, little effort by historians was dedicated to keeping track of their artistic output or where it was sold or kept, and little money was spent to preserve art by these no-names. Still more art went unsigned (for instance some output by nuns). This also, sadly, excludes many talented artists who "made it" but who left little behind because they died young in childbirth. <br /></p><p>4. <b><i>I must genuinely like their work</i></b>. Yeah, it's subjective, so what. I'm not about to introduce y'all to second rate stuff when there are so many <i>good</i> female artists out there. Keep in mind, though, that you're missing out on genres that simply don't interest me, still life and flower painting being the most notable. </p><p>Since women were forbidden from studying the nude figure and anatomy, that closed of many genres like history and genre painting. Add to that the stigma around anything too "unfitting for women," and there goes anything remotely sexual or violent, anything with a daring or bold composition, anything involving too much facetime with men, poor people and strangers (such as socially relevant genre painting), anything intellectual or socially daring (such as satire, social commentary or anything gritty). That left flowers, still life, portraits (mostly of women and children), interiors, mild religious stuff, and historical allegory that colored well inside the moralistic lines. Later landscape opened up as an option as well. </p><p>Some women, of course, simply broke the rules anyway, but the consequences were not to be taken lightly. Work could not be sold, for one, if the public and monied class disapproved. The woman's security was seriously jeopardized, for another, if her moral reputation was tarnished. Without a husband and secure place in society, she had no fallback. And then there were the guilds and academies, the gatekeepers of the business of art, who wouldn't let them in if they didn't abide by the rules (and often didn't let them in at all). </p><p>So excluding the painters of still life and similar decorative arts is Very Unfeminist of me because not only was the genre filled with women artists, but women actually dominated. They forged new styles that shaped the genre and attracted imitators. Same for women who created sentimental bourgeois genre paintings, but I just can't get past the genre's noxious blend of self-congratulatory materialism, prurience and cloying moralism. I can't deal with it in male painters either (I can never forgive Fragonard for painting <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Swing_(Fragonard)">The Swing</a>, nor can I physically stop my eyes from rolling at the sight of Bouguereau's barely legal <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:William-Adolphe_Bouguereau_(1825-1905)_-_The_Nymphaeum_(1878).jpg">Greek</a> <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Bouguereau_Nymphs_and_Satyr_MMA_cr.jpg">nymphs</a>, which I guess might technically be history paintings, which somehow makes it worse, but I classify them with the pretty adolescent <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_Shepherdess_by_William_Adolphe_Bouguereau.jpg">shepherdesses</a> and milk maids which populate the rest of his work), so I don't feel right about pretending to admire it just because the artist is female. It merits an historical mention, though, that female artists were garnering solid reputations and earnings from these genres. I will admit that just because I don't like the genre, that doesn't mean it's objectively <i>bad</i>. <br /></p><p>5. <b><i>Fine art only</i></b>. Meaning no handcrafts, no commercial design or illustration, no cartooning and the like. I excluded photography and filmmaking too; while fitting under fine art, it opened a whole can of worms with too many names and too contemporary a timeline. Not only do I have tremendous respect for all these disciplines, I am a fan! I like them! The <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quilts_of_Gee's_Bend">quilts</a> of Gee's Bend, Nell Brinkley's <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijEscQxFilratQWd8Ya_rwwz1mN6G_Hdf4qabDPrlRp6d0erkxOs7Nles_q_yf5R5D7kUoKAailmA_CooomyXWdCLLnZsIHVxlCrhMOOkTvNjBjaEyC80xE66I_EA5Jt90gl2brgk9vKwb/s1600/3440129229_c05003a11d_o.jpeg">comics</a>, Beatrix Potter's children's <a href="https://www.illustrationhistory.org/images/uploads/potter-tailorofgloucester2.jpg">illustrations</a>, Coco Chanel's <a href="https://www.tabulousdesign.com/2015/08/tabulous-tastemaker-chanel/">fashion design</a>, it's all stellar stuff. Crafts in particular are a sphere where women creatives have traditionally dominated and the exclusion of crafts from "fine art" is an entire sexist and classist issue in itself (see <a href="https://www.artspace.com/magazine/art_101/in_depth/the-other-art-history-the-forgotten-women-of-bauhaus-55526">Bauhaus weavers and industrial designers</a>). </p><p>But I needed to narrow my focus. I'm also conscious of the misconception that if you want to find female fine artists, you'd have to really reach to outside traditional disciplines. But that's just not true. You could easily fill an art history book with female names, fully covering all the "isms" and genres, without compromising on quality or venturing outside the traditional bounds of fine art. Seriously. When it comes down to it, that's what I want to convey with this Inktober project. </p><p>6. <i><b>Incorporate something of the artist's style into my own portraits</b></i>. I don't want to create a faux version or pastiche of their work, I just want to take some element of their work and put it to use. <br /></p><p>7. <b><i>Write their bios like we'd write about male artists</i></b>. This proved to be way more difficult than it appears at face value. When I say "bio," by the way, I mean the flashcard version, the blurb, the quick overview that a normal person might know off the top of their head. All these things I say are "unmentioned" in bios are of course covered in more meticulous lengthy books about these artists, sometimes even in their Wikipedia entries.<br /></p><p>I didn't dwell on the hardships they faced as women, even though all these artists have them in spades. Pioneering Dadaist <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hannah_H%C3%B6ch">Hannah Höch</a> was regarded by her male peers solely the chick who brought them snacks, while <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meta_Vaux_Warrick_Fuller">Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller</a>'s husband pressured her to stop sculpting so she could become a homemaker in the middle America ("you never should have left Paris," wrote her colleague in a forlorn letter). Nearly all were barred from proper education and then barred from the crucial tools they needed to run a business. Then came the critics and historians who either wrote about them as if they were precocious children or pets that were taught to perform a neat trick, or most frequently, erased their existence completely. The most effective condemnation of the female artist is simply not to mention her at all, or any women involved in the lives of artists, to distill the figurative beer of art history into a clean potent jigger of prominent male artists by boiling away all the teachers, wives, mothers, daughters, colleagues, lovers, writers, workers and students who watered down their lives. The hurdles faced by these female artists deserve attention, but I wanted to focus on their artistic achievement, contribution and influence, just as I would if writing a short bio of Monet or Ingres. </p><p>I also tried to steer the focus away from the artist's personal lives and romantic attachments, unless obviously relevant to their art or the appreciation of it. Do I know anything about Ingres's personal life? David's? Courbet's? No. Maybe I should read up, but I know what each name means to the history of art without knowing anything about them because that is what historians and writers tend to present. </p><p>Do I know about Goya's personal life, Chagall's, Picasso's, Michaelangelo's? Yeah, a bit. Goya's frustration with his royal appointment is relevant to his royal portraiture, and his lived wartime trauma is relevant to his more macabre work. Chagall's persecution as a Jew and flight from Russia is very present in his art, and so is it when his beloved wife died. Picasso's love life and epic promiscuity is, again, relevant to both the work and his legend--his legend IS part of what his name means to art history. I think most can see why Michaelangelo's sexuality is relevant to his work, and his personal gripes with authority figures show up readily in the Sistine Chapel. </p><p>The general disregard for male artist's personal lives is partially a function of the modernist idea of art being able to stand independently (thanks, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clement_Greenberg">Clement Greenberg</a>), but it has also prevented many male artists from being judged poorly or "cancelled" because of repugnant behavior. Did Gauguin abandon his wife and kids, run away to Tahiti, transmit STD's to a string of 12 and 13 year old Tahitian "wives" whom he then also abandoned and then promote a patronizing view of Tahitians as innocent savages? Yes! But his art isn't going anywhere, nor his legacy (and for good reason). The lives of the Great Masters were <i>chock full</i> of some really terrible stuff that won't ever affect their legacy, like abandoning their families, impregnating a string of underage mistresses then abandoning them to a life of who knows what, virulent antisemitism or racism, slaveholding, <i>murder</i>, rape, abuse, supporting fascism, it goes on and on. If we were to scrap everyone problematic, there wouldn't be much art left to study. Yet I see this tendency with female artists. First there were the writers of centuries past who dismissed them all as "drunken prostitutes" because they were lesbian, or unmarried or unchaperoned, they traveled, they did modeling on the side, or they met up with their colleagues at (gasp!) cafes. And then there are their modern would-be fans. Why do the work of unearthing and publicizing the work of a female racist or child abuser? We're looking for heroes! Role models! But at some point I think we need to admit that we artists just don't have our shit together and we never have. Face it, the art world is the <i>last</i> place to go looking for role models. It's only fair to judge women artists by the same lax standards. <br /></p><p>So, do I need to know that <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suzanne_Valadon">Suzanne Valadon</a> was not a very good mother in order to understand how her postimpressionism fits into art history? Do I need to know who gave <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elsa_von_Freytag-Loringhoven">Baroness Elsa von Freytag Loringhoven</a> syphilis to understand her dadaist poetry (well, assuming anyone <i>could</i> understand it)? Do I need to know if <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eva_Gonzal%C3%A8s">Eva Gonzalès</a>'s teacher (Manet) was in love with her in order to understand her later work? No, I do not. However I <i>do</i> need to know that <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toyen">Toyen</a> was genderfluid (or something similar, it's unclear by modern standards) because Toyen's art was about gender and sexuality. Likewise I need to know that <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zinaida_Serebriakova">Zinaida Serebriakova</a> pined after her children and family home after forced exile from Russia, and that <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sophie_Taeuber-Arp">Sophie Taeuber-Arp</a> knew everyone who was worth knowing in avant-garde circles, because they all shared ideas. </p><p>Then there's the question of marriage and family. Quick-- <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camille_Doncieux">who</a> <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alice_Hosched%C3%A9">was</a> Monet's wife? I don't know. Art historians have usually treated the wife as no more relevant to the artist's legacy as the family pet. If a wife or auntie earned money to support the artist so he could paint full time, as was very often the case even withe "the great Masters", it goes unmentioned (this is not true in the case of fathers, brothers, patrons or dealers who supported the artist, for example Vincent van Gogh's art dealer brother Theo assisting him being mentioned so frequently I didn't even have to look up Theo's name on Wikipedia). If she networked or used her social connections, hosted salons, ran his business, managed his students, typed and copied his writing, prepared his canvases, it likewise goes unmentioned. But when a female artist was supported by her husband that is usually fact #1 in her bio. If she was supported by family or used her brother's connections, it is well established. These things are genuinely relevant to a biography, and I'm not annoyed to see them mentioned for female artists, rather displeased that they go unmentioned for male artists because they are intentionally erased. There's nothing<i> wrong</i> with describing the assistance male artists received or describing their daily lives.<br /></p><p>If the wife physically assisted and painted parts of the work, it goes unmentioned (it was common and perfectly acceptable for wives and other assistants to paint draperies and backgrounds). Yet the extent to which female artists painted and sculpted their own work has been extensively dissected, which is a practical measure because the first accusation against great female artists has often been, "she obviously didn't do it herself." </p><p>Then there is the issue of "it runs in the family." Countless great artists were taught by their mothers and sisters (often going on to study under other teachers when they were older). Yet you seldom see bios that declare, "he took after <i>her</i>." It's rare to see, for example, that Mozart became a musician because he wanted to be just like his big sister, who toured as a child prodigy and composer, who made up secret languages to speak with him, who played musical games with him. You read only that there was a gifted little boy, so gifted he made up languages and played musical games for fun. Does it take away from Mozart to know this? No, not at all! It's relatable and inspiring. We should all be talking more about awesome sibling relationships. </p><p>However if a female artist were taught by her father it is fact #1 in the bio, followed by "until recently many of her pieces were misattributed to him." This is extremely relevant to a biography because being the daughter of a professional artist was the only way for centuries that many women could enter the business of art or receive training. One must understand that until the industrial advancements of the late 1800s, one didn't just set up an easel in the corner, buy some paints and order business cards. Painting was so costly and labor intensive that in terms of people power, capital and effort, it was more akin to opening a restaurant nowadays than to taking up a side hustle or hobby. That's why they were often combined school-studios which trained apprentices and gave lessons. So being able to assist or even inherit a father's or husband's studio was a very big deal. </p><p>So how, then, did so many male artists learn from moms and sisters, if women didn't run studios? Women, if they were middle or upper class, were expected to know how to draw and play music, enough to appear cultured and to entertain a parlor full of bored nobility-- but no more. So they were trained by governesses and private tutors, taking lessons at home if they could afford it, and attending the classes "suitable for ladies" which many schools and studios offered. Inevitably some of these girls became far more expert than was considered suitable (and ended up as the subjects of this Inktober series). By the 1800s a respectable lady might reasonably travel to Paris, study intensively under the best artists of her time and dedicate her life to art-- but not consider herself a professional or a serious artist (how vulgar and mannish!). To earn a living was beyond the pale. She would instead be considered "an accomplished lady." Such accomplished ladies often put their talents and education to use, then, by educating their own children, families and friends. She might even teach lessons, take portrait commissions or sell her work, so long as it was seen as "on the side." Even if a family member was an established professional artist who then taught the male artist to paint or draw, it has gone unmentioned (Jackson Pollock, for instance). </p><p>Then, most commonly, there were the husband-wife duos (or serious romantic partnerships) where both were artists. Common practice when writing about such men is not to mention the female artist at all. One might learn about Pollock, Picasso, Hans Arp or Robert Delaunay in this manner, one independent name standing alone. When the female artist is discussed she is an extension of her husband, her art is derivative of his, and so on, although that is beginning to change in recent decades. Indeed some couples did exist in which the wife's art was derivative of the husband's, for instance if he offered her training, or if she worked as a part of his artistic brand, a "two for the price of one" kind of business. In many other cases they met while studying under the same teacher and naturally made work that appeared similar. More common still was some sort of collaboration, where they developed an idea or founded a movement together, or where they combined efforts. Such collaborations are often unacknowledged as such; for instance, the late artist Christo, who famously wrapped the Reichstag in fabric, was only one half of a duo with his artist wife. Can you name her? (Jeanne-Claude, and she died in 2009 without any media mentions that I recall. When Christo died last year it was all over the news-- as it should have been). Such collaborative marriages make sense, particularly in centuries past. </p><p>So to write about artist-wives the same way as artist-husbands would be to let the husband go unmentioned, and in many of the bios I have. However if there was a significant collaboration I consider it relevant to the art and wouldn't want an artist to go uncredited. Not to mention such marriages are pleasant to read about. To be fair there do exist some couples where the male name is frequently attached to the female name in art history; for example it's rare to read about Diego Rivera without a mention of Frida Kahlo, or Alfred Stieglitz without Georgia O'Keefe. Robert Delaunay's name is gradually becoming more frequently attached to Sonia's. But another reason it's tough to gender-swap is that the husband is usually much more famous than the wife, or at least as famous. And his career, life and social circle usually affect the wife in a way that is difficult to explain without mentioning him. If I were writing about Michelle Obama, for example, there are plenty of her own accomplishments to fill a bio but how exactly could I explain why she lived in the White House if I don't mention this guy named Barack? </p><p>Similarly I let kids pass by unmentioned unless they were relevant to the art or if they were necessary to explain events in an artist's life. That was a tougher choice, as parenting was a significant part of many artist's lives. On one hand, for example, I'd like to tip my hat to Baya for raising 6 kids in a war zone, but on the other hand I'd like to keep the focus on her art. It's true that you rarely see mention of children in overviews of male artist's work (unless the child became or married someone famous), but it also wasn't usually a significant part of his daily responsibility, nor did it physically compromise him, so it makes more sense that it goes unmentioned. Still, when artists were impacted by struggles to manage large blended families (like Monet) you don't often read about it. </p><p>I'm happy to say that a lot of this "bad art history" is inherited from centuries past and that recent art historical writing and research has been top notch. Most writers make at least a solid effort to include women, and if they don't many commenters and reviewers will point it out. Most also write about women in a reasonable way, if occasionally overcompensatory with deference. The thing is, there is a major difference between writing a more conscientious version of the flawed art history we've inherited, versus overhauling what we've known and radically rethinking things. For the latter we have the feminists and other progressive researchers of the 1970s to thank. They began the herculean task of unearthing and re-researching forgotten female artists, going back to primary sources in order to question everything that had been written. The effort poured into the 1980s and 90s, and very significant artists are still being rediscovered. Most of the museum shows, books and movies that seek to cover this new ground are building on what those researchers did. Of course, the old narratives still stick to art history and are something to contend with. <br /></p><p>So to sum up, I tried to keep the bios on point-- what kind of art they made, where their art fits into the world around them, any particularly fun facts, and roughly how and when they lived. <br /></p>Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-844083090057443862020-04-30T11:52:00.000-04:002020-04-30T11:52:21.647-04:00SpargelI ran across this German opinion piece by Volker Heise in the Berliner-Zeitung newspaper which describes one man's psychological asparagus withdrawal that landed him in the ER, as well as his more serious struggle to cope with Covid19 stress. His reaction to having no fresh local asparagus was so "extra" that I felt inspired to illustrate the piece. I do sympathize with his anxiety, though, and I hope he feels better; we're all going through some stuff right now.<br />
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But you must understand, Germans are obsessed with asparagus ("Spargel") in the Springtime; the type and provenance of the asparagus is a big deal, something one might show off to one's coworkers for social clout. Enthusiasts will absolutely engage in shady backdoor trade to get the fresh local best if they must. Also of note: Germans peel asparagus before cooking and serving (in butter with a side of luxury). I never knew that until German YouTube served me an ad of a woman lovingly peeling asparagus in a slow motion in her rustic kitchen at sunrise.<br />
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I've translated the article as best I can. My understanding of what he said about the protesters is a little iffy.<br />
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<br />Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-28235973081824315582020-03-26T17:55:00.001-04:002020-03-26T17:55:44.073-04:00Creators talk about their artHere's a random jumble of creators talking about how they make stuff and think of ideas. I like how they're all pretty down to earth and direct about it. I often hear art making discussed as if it's something closer to spiritual sorcery, and while I appreciate that it is meant to be inspiring I just can't identify with that perspective. Enjoy!<br />
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Quentin Blake illustrating:<br />
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Eric Carle talking about making The Very Hungry Caterpillar:<br />
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Charles Bukowski on writing:<br />
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Lisa Hanawalt, a cartoonist or animator or...?... talks about creating the concept art for Bojack Horseman. If you've never seen the show, it's an excellent cartoon for adults about a fading TV star battling addiction. The show is both very sad and serious, as well as absurd and slapstick. Like Don Draper meets The Far Side. I've included a clip from the show below Hanawalt's speech. <br />
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and a clip from Hanawalt's show Bojack Horseman:<br />
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<br />Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-35898524936077685942020-03-21T15:34:00.001-04:002020-03-21T15:34:31.116-04:00Sketch by meIt's been a while since I've drawn in charcoal so yesterday I spent the afternoon practicing. I pulled such a weird expression because I rarely get a chance to draw contorted faces and the interesting shapes they create. When I draw portraits professionally, of course I try to make the subjects look good, not like monster-clowns. But that can get a bit boring.<br />
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I took a few photos as I went so you can see how it progressed over the afternoon. You're supposed to work on the entire thing at once, not to go bit by bit... but I did anyway. It was just that kind of day.<br />
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This isn't finished; the left side of the page is blank, leaving room for another weird expression that I'll integrate with this on as a bigger composition when it's done. <br />
<br />Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-78731891413580888462020-03-21T12:32:00.003-04:002020-03-21T12:32:42.976-04:00More entertainment: Napoleon's wedding cakeAs promised, more entertainment for the quarantine and sheltering-at-home crowd. This is a professional recreating an historic recipe by Napoleon's pastry chef. And it is INSANE. Prepare yourself for an epic new definition of "labor intensive."<br />
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<br />Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-20608563020679973112020-03-18T17:00:00.001-04:002020-03-18T17:00:43.054-04:00Some EntertainmentIf you're shut in your home for the foreseeable future like I am, I have some light entertainment for you. I'll keep the entertainment posts coming, unless I get distracted and forget, once again, that this blog exists.<br />
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Here's somebody recreating Monet's daily meals which I ran across on YouTube. I have visited Giverny on a rainy day in spring, I did have questionable cider at a cafe nearby, and I can easily imagine this household running like a well-oiled picturesque machine. <br />
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Video description: birds-eye views of someone following recipes interspersed with narratives of Monet's life and his paintings. Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-287871445216639802019-11-15T19:00:00.000-05:002019-11-15T19:00:14.474-05:00Inktober 2019, Day 31: RipeI went for another grocery store still life for the final day of Inktober. It's all seasonal fall/winter fruit (except the honeydew, who even knows when that's ripe) and somewhat low-carb friendly (except the persimmon, I suspect). You're supposed to eat just a little, though, on a low-carb intermittent fasting diet, not to break your daily fast with a giant fruit salad, which is what I did before I even finished this drawing. No regrets, it was delicious. Anyway, this is what I gave up last year while dieting (an overall positive experience), and I've since added back in a little fruit and the occasional healthy carbs. Diet talk is never especially interesting so I'll just leave it at that, but suffice it to say this still life is VERY personally relevant to me. These foods have occupied quite a lot of brain-space lately. They should pay rent.<br />
I was happy with how this turned out. The honeydew looked especially nice, and the little silver cake fork (a flea market find) stood out against it just like it did in real life. I was happy with the zig-zaggy interior and rough exterior of the pear as well. As it turns out, pomegranate seeds are incredibly fast and easy to draw. The persimmon skin had just the right value and shine. The fruit pressed against the side of the wine glass was a fun challenge in black and white.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEB7zqMyOClc7UQkgg1ztRi6UctCRPf_4YEOGmHfo4f-PuHDBX-x_xR8f8E9hd4Yqx22Df20KUSQ62Jw03qMNgOj1Euao9ekSjSIWhUcMjKHE-vW9pxIexR-h9EYJeMGFC9c6iMbXxLq0/s1600/inktober2019-31ripe-sample.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Sketch of Inktober 2019, Day 31, Ripe, by Ciana Pullen / St. Rhinocéros" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1047" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEB7zqMyOClc7UQkgg1ztRi6UctCRPf_4YEOGmHfo4f-PuHDBX-x_xR8f8E9hd4Yqx22Df20KUSQ62Jw03qMNgOj1Euao9ekSjSIWhUcMjKHE-vW9pxIexR-h9EYJeMGFC9c6iMbXxLq0/s640/inktober2019-31ripe-sample.jpeg" title="Inktober 2019, Day 31, Ripe, by Ciana Pullen / St. Rhinocéros" width="418" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inktober 2019, Day 31, Ripe, by Ciana Pullen / St. Rhinocéros</td></tr>
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After devouring the fruit salad I carved a Jack O' Lantern, since it was
Halloween. And I got a Trick-or-treater! She was some sort of zombie
princess I think. I ate the rest of the mini-Snickers myself.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuUgamDQ1-hrEvuOlzlTcOsV2UNsSHz8ygLtaLI3Q_7SSeqv_jTzaeuITja5xLJCKnimZduO_nMlUyw12ArrOdcLJ5IvSPN6Ibojnd4YF-UpNQh0Y80Q8DygHuQH0jaMtUM5q00nxfCXA/s1600/jackolantern2019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="jack o' lantern" border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuUgamDQ1-hrEvuOlzlTcOsV2UNsSHz8ygLtaLI3Q_7SSeqv_jTzaeuITja5xLJCKnimZduO_nMlUyw12ArrOdcLJ5IvSPN6Ibojnd4YF-UpNQh0Y80Q8DygHuQH0jaMtUM5q00nxfCXA/s320/jackolantern2019.jpg" title="jack o' lantern" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just a standard pentagram with some antlers for this pumpkin. Nothing too fancy. </td></tr>
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<br />Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-50405395453748260982019-11-15T11:30:00.000-05:002019-11-15T11:30:09.032-05:00Inktober 2019, Day 30: CatchAfter so much drawing from photo references and from my imagination, I wanted to get back to some proper drawing from life. So I picked up this fish from the grocery store, and to add some interesting distortion and a bit of a challenge, I put it in a glass of water. But the fish was so long I had to add a second glass. I rather liked the odd composition, and the fish looks like it's trying to stay alive under the most constrictive possible circumstances (it was fully dead). I cooked it up for dinner afterward. My cat was extremely interested in the entire process.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHxWjlgL60oawQ7LsxLKM1TOt8ggduHhhGrnJsRaMsBYnN9AaInfq778GYWNwMm-JegyGTf4JvU3MHKRCkaaQQVWYElLNi8m6lgRfbaMxJzIhetA9vwqYIvk-bLNVavG1IOXbqPqVgvMU/s1600/inktober2019-30catch-sample.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Sketch of Inktober 2019, Day 30, Catch, by Ciana Pullen / St. Rhinocéros" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1047" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHxWjlgL60oawQ7LsxLKM1TOt8ggduHhhGrnJsRaMsBYnN9AaInfq778GYWNwMm-JegyGTf4JvU3MHKRCkaaQQVWYElLNi8m6lgRfbaMxJzIhetA9vwqYIvk-bLNVavG1IOXbqPqVgvMU/s640/inktober2019-30catch-sample.jpeg" title="Inktober 2019, Day 30, Catch, by Ciana Pullen / St. Rhinocéros" width="418" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inktober 2019, Day 30, prompt word "Catch." Dip pen and marker, 8 x 11 in. by Ciana Pullen. [<i>Image description: realistic black and white pen drawing of a foot-long mackerel or trout type fish. The head is resting in a cut-glass tumbler full of water. The tail is resting in a glass mini beer stein behind the tumbler. The fish's body arches between the two glasses. The distortions of the water and facets of the glasses break up the fish into several different planes. Each glass casts a shadow with scattered light across the page to the right.</i>]</td></tr>
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<br />Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-11162999105708923192019-11-15T07:30:00.000-05:002019-11-15T07:30:06.985-05:00Inktober 2019, Day 29: Injured<span>When I was 5 (or 6 or 7...?) I had a super bossy friend who was always the best character in whatever we played, like
April O’Neal or Belle and then I’d have to be Shredder or the animated
clock. She had a bunch of plastic horses, like ya do, but there was one
Ultimate Pony that was pearlescent lavender with mega-hair and she
always got to be that one. One day I chose it first, so she challenged
me, and I grabbed it and took off running. Unfortunately I tripped on
the edge of the carpet and fell face-first on the hardwood floor. My
nose basically exploded in blood and I had to go to the hospital (never
having played as the Ultimate Pony). My nose is a bit crooked now and
I’m not sure how much is genetic and how much is battle scar.</span><br />
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<span>The top bit is imaginary, but the nose close-ups I sketched from a mirror. Except the full profile, for which I used a camera phone. That's a pretty accurate depiction of the Ultimate pony, as I still remember her clearly, decades later. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLq8XsjN-z6121Hh1V7MMj5J9Web2fa1pkWDsnj9eZof7CMZ1ZI22QcyQOZZjlWfmn53LP5-YNlQWtT8fLPBi21eiy6l63Qe8tNyJCu3CK6zurpnLsaAB0o-EpCPWd7iSbkXlloGZlYng/s1600/inktober2019-29injured-sample.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Sketch of Inktober 2019, Day 29, Injured, by Ciana Pullen / St. Rhinocéros" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1047" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLq8XsjN-z6121Hh1V7MMj5J9Web2fa1pkWDsnj9eZof7CMZ1ZI22QcyQOZZjlWfmn53LP5-YNlQWtT8fLPBi21eiy6l63Qe8tNyJCu3CK6zurpnLsaAB0o-EpCPWd7iSbkXlloGZlYng/s640/inktober2019-29injured-sample.jpeg" title="Inktober 2019, Day 29, Injured, by Ciana Pullen / St. Rhinocéros" width="418" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inktober 2019, Day 29, prompt word, "Injured." Ink pen and marker, 8 x 11 in. by Ciana Pullen. [<i>Image Description: black and white drawing of a little girl falling on her face, in mid-air just about to hit the ground. A tasseled rug is just under and behind her, and a toy pony flies out of her hand. In the bottom third, several overlapping realistic sketches of a nose and eyes from various angles take up the rest of the space.</i>]</td></tr>
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Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-83901384504229850512019-11-14T18:30:00.000-05:002019-11-14T18:30:06.111-05:00Inktober 2019, Day 28: Ride<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-C5jG_dvOdi2nkGRi-gOqRauwna0dw0WFhqNuC8-fVAshJ22noSbGKnNm9rJtf8jzqNep1qU4XAQpYDQuTfciSKkbMxwsvMqCcCoK0WUNilUvXcXlpDHHzlLgZ5q7uTOPt1Y-eWXJeY/s1600/inktober2019-28ride-sample.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Sketch of Inktober 2019, Day 28, Ride, by Ciana Pullen / St. Rhinocéros" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1047" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-C5jG_dvOdi2nkGRi-gOqRauwna0dw0WFhqNuC8-fVAshJ22noSbGKnNm9rJtf8jzqNep1qU4XAQpYDQuTfciSKkbMxwsvMqCcCoK0WUNilUvXcXlpDHHzlLgZ5q7uTOPt1Y-eWXJeY/s640/inktober2019-28ride-sample.jpeg" title="Inktober 2019, Day 28, Ride, by Ciana Pullen / St. Rhinocéros" width="418" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inktober 2019, Day 28, prompt word, "Ride." Ink pen and marker, 8 x 11 in. by Ciana Pullen. [<i>Image description: black and white realistic drawing of a woman in a knit cap and scarf sitting by a dark train window. Her darker reflection is in the window. At the bottom of the page a side-view of a subway train in the dark shows three lit windows illuminating sketchily drawn passengers. The same woman pictured above with the same white cap is visible through the window. It reads a bit like comic panels showing inside and outside the train.</i>]</td></tr>
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<br />Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-89293382529079433242019-11-14T11:30:00.000-05:002019-11-14T11:30:04.762-05:00Inktober 2019, Day 27: CoatI spend a lot of time bingeing on nonsense online. For "coat" I wanted to convey that cocoon of stupor that you get with total media escapism.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7-_4pgCVKkFeSRSLWjRkefcGTft-5qscfD0w9QNbPky1Qb19U5d-FtMDroODrf_7johw2jBdithmb4lJQy95IwlewW3Lv42V6wpXIfP3wzi1dXpKrisiUohyHyJpmQxhyphenhyphenEfD3QpuvkI/s1600/inktober2019-27coat-sample.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Sketch of Inktober 2019, Day 27, Coat, by Ciana Pullen / St. Rhinocéros" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1047" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7-_4pgCVKkFeSRSLWjRkefcGTft-5qscfD0w9QNbPky1Qb19U5d-FtMDroODrf_7johw2jBdithmb4lJQy95IwlewW3Lv42V6wpXIfP3wzi1dXpKrisiUohyHyJpmQxhyphenhyphenEfD3QpuvkI/s640/inktober2019-27coat-sample.jpeg" title="Inktober 2019, Day 27, Coat, by Ciana Pullen / St. Rhinocéros" width="418" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inktober 2019, Day 27, prompt word, "Coat." Dip pen and ink, 8 x 11 in. by Ciana Pullen. [<i>Image description: black and white realistic pen drawing of a woman's face surrounded by floating downy feathers. She looks up and to the left, out of frame, and the close-up is cropped at her forehead, cheeks. and neck. Her expression is wide-eyed, slack-jawed, dazed and entranced. A light like a screen is reflecting off her eyes.</i>]</td></tr>
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<br />Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-20228466325112543692019-11-14T07:30:00.000-05:002019-11-14T07:30:08.326-05:00Inktober 2019, Day 26: DarkI've seen a lot of illustrators create atmosphere-monsters, and I've been wanting to give it a try myself. They create a lot of atmosphere at the horizon (clouds, smoke, the haziness of distance) and slightly delineate the monster's form (usually tall and lanky, a giant robot or massive skeletal creature), but leave the eyes blank and white (or in color, if it's a color illustration) so they glow. Having the atmosphere at the horizon makes the monster look super-tall, towering above skyscrapers. Here's an example by Canadian and French <a href="http://nicolasdelort.com/">illustrator <span style="font-size: small;"><span class="LegoGestalt_Font" style="color: #333333; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; hyphens: auto; overflow-wrap: break-word; text-align: left;">Nicolas Delort</span></span></a>:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZaNk0cmGZSfayBJ3mwCYPX3pnENZ_QnbVv7exWHGko8iRaTJCMlAEHJ3174WaEvCv4w84k7LEZta2awqiH0i-j6IbPLE0F8CMRmB7ARKL7SnCXgIbTTNU95g56McuEpg_SBd_rBaEtA/s1600/nicdelort.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Illustration by Nicolas Delort" border="0" data-original-height="861" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZaNk0cmGZSfayBJ3mwCYPX3pnENZ_QnbVv7exWHGko8iRaTJCMlAEHJ3174WaEvCv4w84k7LEZta2awqiH0i-j6IbPLE0F8CMRmB7ARKL7SnCXgIbTTNU95g56McuEpg_SBd_rBaEtA/s320/nicdelort.jpg" title="Illustration by Nicolas Delort" width="209" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NOT my drawing. This is by <a href="http://nicolasdelort.com/">Nicolas Delort</a>, a Canadian and French illustrator. It shows the type of bright-eyed atmosphere-monster I'm talking about.</td></tr>
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The funny thing is, the original illustrations from War of the Worlds used the same conceit for the killer robot Martians over a century ago. Maybe Henrique Alvim Corrêa even invented it for the novel. I ran across his illustrations a few years back while illustrating for an exhibit in Scotland about the history of sci-fi and architecture. Here's Corrêa's take in 1906:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz3rMiyl_ykvtOBScDYUzTxDJ_-0Ae61kJpvDMpMm1FmDKq3nCH4mSZmely4vXnpCpNbHdB7JXpURHfoo45QHN3QJYyZvbiY_DEo4egLuKLgIlfKB9fiJULnbO9C_gmFeyYXi_C_Rj7Gs/s1600/War4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="1906 Illustration by Henrique Alvin Corrêa for War of the Worlds" border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="743" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz3rMiyl_ykvtOBScDYUzTxDJ_-0Ae61kJpvDMpMm1FmDKq3nCH4mSZmely4vXnpCpNbHdB7JXpURHfoo45QHN3QJYyZvbiY_DEo4egLuKLgIlfKB9fiJULnbO9C_gmFeyYXi_C_Rj7Gs/s320/War4.jpg" title="1906 Illustration by Henrique Alvin Corrêa for War of the Worlds" width="232" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NOT my drawing. This is a 1906 illustration by Henrique Alvim Corrêa for War of the Worlds.</td></tr>
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So I went to create my own atmosphere-monster to express how, walking down a city street in dank weather, you feel both omnipresent connection with the city at large, and simlutaneously part of a tiny huddled microcosm under your umbrella or in a cloud of light from a shop window. I started, naturally, with the atmosphere. I chose a rainy city street at twilight, a time which seems somehow even darker than night when it rains. However I got so into the foreground and rainy street scene that I wish I'd cut the monster out altogether so the focus was on the foreground. Oh, well. This might be a drawing I retool in the future. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhknNHT8rNdZVFBedI9fZ6ilckCVVPQgXJAEqK2DF8hf3CG5-bbQsZhxttUJlQBBJLY5wgGXiS5n-CzDbcYKeZXeCqT_M9mh5dEEUg8c52B5faxQYUxJTFatEavcK4XgkYv1KVycaZpZNA/s1600/inktober2019-26dark-sample.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Sketch of Inktober 2019, Day 26, Dark, by Ciana Pullen / St. Rhinocéros" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1047" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhknNHT8rNdZVFBedI9fZ6ilckCVVPQgXJAEqK2DF8hf3CG5-bbQsZhxttUJlQBBJLY5wgGXiS5n-CzDbcYKeZXeCqT_M9mh5dEEUg8c52B5faxQYUxJTFatEavcK4XgkYv1KVycaZpZNA/s640/inktober2019-26dark-sample.jpeg" title="Inktober 2019, Day 26, Dark, by Ciana Pullen / St. Rhinocéros" width="418" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inktober 2019, Day 26, prompt word, "Dark." Dip pen and ink, 8 x 11 in. by Ciana Pullen. [<i>Image description: cityscape showing a line of pedestrians with umbrellas crossing the street over a few clouds of billowing steam emerging from manholes. Behind them is a row of cars silhouetting them against headlights. On either side are tall buildings. The sky is dark and it's raining. The people's silhouettes and the headlights create black and white striped reflections on the wet pavement. On the right side, a corner shop window is illuminated. In the background, between two distant buildings and against the sky, the outline of a humanoid monster peers at the people and reaches out. Its eyes are blank white hearts.</i>]</td></tr>
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<br />Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5813558999702207048.post-47745971102590742462019-11-13T18:30:00.000-05:002019-11-13T18:30:03.168-05:00Inktober 2019, Day 25: TastyOnce again I broke my "must be personally relevant" rule. I was inching toward the end of Inktober and worn pretty thin, so when faced with brainstorming I just went for a good old portrait. Easy enough because it's my specialty, and usually a crowd-pleaser. Lots of other people chose this same subject as well, a character from Orange Is The New Black named Taystee. While not personally relevant, OItNB is a really good show, the character is extremely interesting, and the actress does a great job. It is unreal how pretty she is without makeup, but that didn't come across in this portrait. I went for an expressive film still rather than a pretty one.<br />
The hair texture was fun. I relied on a few old favorite techniques that I developed when I drew portraits live in the park in the US. Occasionally someone with massive hair will show up and unless you want them to be sitting for hours, you need a few visual shortcuts. But it was my first time using ink pen instead of shaded charcoal, so it was a bit different.<br />
I wasn't that satisfied with the result though. It was overall too dark (but it's ink, so what are you gonna do) and the crosshatching on Taystee's face was too rough. But it felt so good to have the rest of the day free without a drawing looming over me.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQAIHqBm6fbwk28oDfc_eCXDo5MmQzJaQWO3AvQJFp6Omgp3XHLWLucP5BhbCTMmp_V2lYFa0FskrJbwHYQJK8mVpesRUN0AxLKF4UyEkMtvRHyFA64eSR6O2xPKXDDoII0GUpgvoHemg/s1600/inktober2019-25tasty-sample.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Sketch of Inktober 2019, Day 25, Tasty, by Ciana Pullen / St. Rhinocéros" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1047" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQAIHqBm6fbwk28oDfc_eCXDo5MmQzJaQWO3AvQJFp6Omgp3XHLWLucP5BhbCTMmp_V2lYFa0FskrJbwHYQJK8mVpesRUN0AxLKF4UyEkMtvRHyFA64eSR6O2xPKXDDoII0GUpgvoHemg/s640/inktober2019-25tasty-sample.jpeg" title="Inktober 2019, Day 25, Tasty, by Ciana Pullen / St. Rhinocéros" width="418" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Portrait of Taystee (actress Danielle Brooks) from <i>Orange Is The New Black</i>. Inktober 2019, Day 25, prompt word, "Tasty." Ink pen and marker, 8 x 11 in. by Ciana Pullen. [<i>Image description: black and white realistic drawing of the head and shoulders of a woman with a large afro. She wears a cotton prison shirt that looks like scrubs. She leans forward, squinting out of frame to the left, with a frustrated and exasperated expression. The mark-making on the shirt is a little chunkier and more abstract.</i>] </td></tr>
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<br />Ciana Pullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12332331424368617986noreply@blogger.com0