Saturday, March 22, 2014

Jules Bastien-Lepage



On March 21st, Katie Liddiard lectured about the influential 19th century artist Jules Bastien-Lepage. Here is her lecture for those who could not attend:


Born on Nov. 1, 1848 In Damvillers, France in the Lorraine region. He loved his home, which would be a strong thread throughout his body of work. His father operated a small farm and vineyard to support the family, though they were not destitute like many of the peasants of the area. Jules took an early interest in art, perhaps because his father was also an artist, and his parents encouraged him by buying prints of paintings to copy.

When the time came, his parents wanted more for him than working the farm, so he went away to college in the nearby town of Verdun, possibly at the commune or monastery. There he met Louis Collin. They became friends and together decided to become professional artists. He received his degree which was very valued at the time and was offered a job in the government in the Post Office Department. Though he wasn't thrilled to take the job as he had other plans, he accepted the clerk’s position as the dutiful son that he was. His parents knew nothing of his desires to become an artist yet. But not all hope was lost. The job was in Paris which excited him as he’d dreamed of getting an artist’s education and what better place to receive it? 
Every free moment he had was spent at the museums and expositions, studying the masters. He seemed to appreciate Flemish painting over Italian, but respected what the Renaissance had accomplished. While studying the old schools, he was fully aware of the new, contemporary ideas that were being pushed by Manet and Courbet. He sympathized with the efforts of these two men in the onslaught of criticism they received for not conforming to the well beaten paths of Classicism and Romanticism. After he could no longer accept not being a painter, he quit his job and enrolled in the Ecole des Beaux-arts. (His parents weren't so pleased with this decision.) He was admitted into Alexandre Cabanel’s atelier at the age of 19 where he met up with his old friend Collin again, who had previously been studying in Bouguereau’s atelier. They worked alongside Fernand Cormon, Morot, and Benjamin Constant. Without the income from the postal job, however, and money from his parents tight, he went from business to business in search of advertising work. He made enough to live off of, some advertisements even widely circulated, though his name was not known even though he had a painting in the Salon. His first Salon entry was in 1870 with a portrait of a young man, which is now lost.

Jules was known to only occasionally be in class as he prefered to work alone. He seemed to agree with Emile Zola’s observation that “Classical education has deformed everything, and has imposed upon us as geniuses, men of correct, facile talent who follow the beaten track”. So though classically trained, he wanted to stay true to his own vision. He studied with Cabanel for three years during which time he won a couple drawing prizes, one of them even being a first place award.
                                                            

The the Franco-Prussian war broke out in 1870 and Jules went to serve in the army as it directly affected his beloved Lorraine. While fighting he was severely wounded in the chest. When he returned home he painted family and local villagers while he recovered. He also tried, unsuccessfully at illustration work.

In 1874 he entered the Salon again with Song of Spring and Portrait of My Grandfather. These submissions were the first real critical recognition Jules received for his work and the portrait of his grandfather won him a third-class medal. These two pieces clearly demonstrate the subjects Bastien-Lepage naturally excelled at and the ones he did not. Song of Spring is an allegory which held little interest to him while the portrait of his grandfather is extremely natural in pose, observation, handling, and color. During this time he was commissioned to paint the Prince of Wales which he exhibited in 1880 at the Royal Academy.
                                              
                                                                          

The following year’s Salon he entered First Communion and Portrait of M. Hayem. This time he was awarded a second prize. Though he still felt that he could do more. He was still not the painter he wanted to be.
                                                 

So in 1875 he decided to compete for the Prix de Rome with Angels Appearing to the Shepherds  which received him second place. He applied again in 1876 with Priam at the feet of Achilles  and was again unsuccessful. It could be that the subjects were just too much of antiquity. He prefered to be in nature, painting what he knew. These were subjects of ancient tradition to which he felt little connection. He decided that he would stick with what he was most comfortable and happy painting: portraits, and people of the land and their fields. That same year he painted The Portrait of M. Wallon  which is a testament to his inclination to paint in a naturalistic way.
                                         
                                                                               

Salon entries:
1877-  My Parents 
                                  

1878-  Portrait of M. Theuriet
                                                                      

          The Hayfield- inspired by a poem:
“The reaper stretched out on his bed of fresh grass
Sleeps with clenched fists while
The tedder, faint and fuddled, tanned by the sun,
Sits vacantly dreaming beside him…”
This piece clearly shows the precursors to Impressionism. Light palette, close framing, brushy forms.
                                                                  

1879-  Portrait of Mlle Sarah Bernhardt- won the cross of the Legion of Honor
                                                                          

          October: Gathering Potatoes- Théodore de Banville, writing of the Salon of 1879, said: "M. Bastien-Lepage is the king of this Exposition. Young as he is, he has started in to produce masterpieces: he is very wise! For in later years an artist continues to copy himself, with more or less cleverness and success; but the creative genius has taken wing, like a bird on whose tail we have failed to drop the indispensable grain of salt. The October Season pictures the harvesting of potatoes. The earth, the encompassing air as far as we can see, the sky, the solitude laden with silence, are all evoked for us in this picture by the sincerity of its powerful painter; the peasant women are done in a masterly manner, and precisely for the reason that he has seen them apart from all convention and has not tried to idealize them by any hackneyed device."
Albert Wolff also commented on the piece- "The colouring in Women harvesting Potatoes is ingratiating and discreet; not a discordant touch disturbs the beautiful harmony of this canvas, over which the silence of the open country has descended, enveloping the obscure toil. It is only artists of superior powers who can embody so much charm in a single conception."
This image brings to mind Millet’s The Gleaners, except there is no sorrow or sympathy for the women in Bastien-Lepage’s work as there is in Millet’s. There’s a sense of resoluteness in their faces, instead. They’re not downtrodden, they do their work willingly. 
   

1880- Joan of Arc Listening to the Voices- This was a tribute to his native Lorraine as Joan was from the same region. But the critics were not so keen on the piece, reproaching him for the use of traditional saints. Idealists claimed it was not ideal enough, realists claimed the saints should not be there at all. Again, this was a subject that he was not all comfortable with as it was more supernatural instead of his naturalist bend and it shows a bit in the piece.
                                                            

1881- The Beggar
                                                                    

1882- Le Pere Jacques
                                                                  

He also submitted works to the 1883 and 1884 Salons.

His portraits and figure paintings were always eagerly awaited by the critics, and regularly reviewed. They brought him much recognition, and several paintings were bought by the State. With the success and recognition he received from the Salons, he was able to travel. Particularly to England, Switzerland, and Italy. Many works were brought back from these travels.

Bastien-Lepage was avidly collected in Europe and America, and exerted tremendous influence on an international group of followers from France, Germany, England, America and beyond, who took up his Naturalist approach to painting and made it one of the dominant movements at the Paris Salons of the 1880s and 1890s. After reviewing the 1883 Salon, one art critic said, “In each room, on each wall, everywhere you turn- Bastien-Lepage! Everywhere, constantly, and incessantly. The whole world paints so much today like Mr. Bastien-Lepage that Mr. Bastien-Lepage seems to paint like the whole world.” This made it very difficult to identify true Bastien-Lepage works if they were not signed and dated. One example is a painting of a young peasant woman. Though it is attributed to him, there were so many imitators that no one is absolutely sure.
                                                                         

The first attacks of ill health ailed Bastien-Lepage. Violent pain made him irritable and cut off almost all outside contact. He consulted with doctors who told him some sea air would be beneficial. He traveled to Brittany, which alleviated the symptoms only briefly before taking a turn for the worse. After travelling back to Paris to again consult with doctors, who were realizing Bastien-Lepage’s fate, he travelled to Algiers with his mother. Again in an effort that the warm African sun and sea air would hurry his recovery. The trip kept him in good spirits for a time, but again the illness took hold and he was forced back to Paris. His kidneys and intestines failed. He would be stricken with horrendous pain for days at a time that forced him to stay on his back. He could only sleep with powerful doses of morphine. All the time he worked as best he could, not being able to stand not painting. Only about a year before he had been optimistic about death stating "I am not afraid of death, dying is nothing,—the important thing is to survive oneself, and who can be sure of establishing a claim upon posterity? So long as our work is true, nothing else matters." But now he was shattered with no hope of relief except through the one way that he did not want just yet. He died in Paris on December 10, 1884 at the age of 36.

M. Gustave Larroumet, director of the Beaux-Arts gave a fitting tribute in honor of the artist after his death as a statue of him constructed by Rodin was erected in Damvillers. He said, "At the moment when ordinarily the best of artists have done no more than to give indications of their originality and when ripening years alone begin to keep the promises of youth, Jules Bastien-Lepage died, leaving masterpieces behind him, besides having liberated an artistic formula from the tendencies and exaggerations which hampered it, and indicated to the art of painting a new pathway along which his young heirs are advancing with an assured step. He loved nature and truth; he loved his own people, and no one ever lived who was surrounded with a greater degree of affection; he inspired faithful friendships which he himself enjoyed to the full; and those whom he left behind soothe their heart-ache with the balm of tender memories; he practised his art without ever making sacrifice to passing fashion or sordid profit; there was no place in his mind or in his heart for any other than noble and generous thoughts. Let us comfort ourselves, therefore, for what his death has taken from us by the thought of what his life has left to us, and let us assign him his place in the ranks of the younger master painters who have been mown down in full flower, close beside that of Géricault and of Henri Regnault."
                                                                                     

In 1885 over 200 of his works were gathered from museums and private collections and shown at the Ecole after his death. And in 1889 the Paris Exposition showed some of his best works.

Zola dubbed Bastien-Lepage the “grandson of Millet and Courbet”. And certainly he had a pronounced influence on many painters after him. Roger Fry credited the public’s wide acceptance of impression to Bastien-Lepage. The works of George Clausen, Henry Herbert La Tangue, and William Hankey are just a few artists who were clearly heavily influenced by Bastien-Lepage’s work.
                                   

More of Bastien-Lepage’s work

       

Plein air studies
     

Self portraits

                  

Studies
      

Please note: I am not claiming to be any sort of expert on artists or art history. If you feel that I need to make a correction, please email me at katieliddiardart@gmail.com and I will rectify the problem as quickly as possible. The lectures in the CAS Lecture Series are as much for me to learn from as I compile information as they are for other students. Thank you for your understanding. ~Katie

Friday, March 7, 2014

Confidence vs. Ego

I've always had a natural bend toward art. For as long as I can remember I've wanted to be a gallery artist. Something about having my work hanging on gallery walls for patrons to admire and purchase for their own walls seems somewhat glamorous to me. I took art classes all through grade school and college and was consistently top in my class. Praise from teachers, classmates, friends, and family encouraged me to keep pushing for more while gradually building in me a false sense that I absolutely knew how to draw and was on my way to figuring out paint. Though there was always the little voice in the back of my head that said I wasn't sure about my abilities, outward influences said I did. I was fortunate enough to have found the Florence Academy of Art while in college. When I saw what their students were producing I knew that I needed to get that education in order to produce the level of sophisticated, professional work that I had always envisioned for myself.
I applied to the Academy's Painting Program. I figured that I already knew how to draw, so no sense in starting from the beginning. After all, I had taken, like, a year of figure drawing. I mean, come on, how much can you really study on a figure? I had finished pieces within three hours. And the college actually purchased one of them. That had to mean something, right? I can only assume the knowing smile that would have come across Daniel Grave's face while he reviewed my application. Probably something of a "she thinks she knows what she's getting into, but from the work she's submitted, clearly she doesn't". Nonetheless, I was accepted into the Academy, though I can't deny my slight disappointment when I saw it was just into the Drawing Program. 
On my first day at the academy I was set up onto a Bargue copy drawing by one of the student teachers. He gave me a basic five minute rundown of how to go about it and left me to my own devices. So I went to it. I had a finished drawing in two hours. What was so hard about this course, again? Okay, it wasn't exactly like the Bargue drawing, but where's the fun in complete fidelity to your subject anyway? I could only imagine what heights I would rise to within the academy. I would be top of the class, again. People would be looking to me for inspiration. I was the best... and then the student teacher came back in to give me my critique. Everything that I thought I was, everything I thought I had ever accomplished, all of the confidence vanished in 30 seconds. As Ryan Brown has so aptly named it, that was my donkey kick to the face. I was forced to start over on the drawing and I got a glimpse of all the things I didn't know. I was crushed. And that's exactly what I needed. I tried to justify in my mind that, no, I'm right. They just don't understand me and how I work. But I knew, deep down, that I was wrong all along. 
After much contemplation over the lies I had built up in my head, I got back to work. I listened to critiques and tried to absorb as much as I could. I realized I had a long way to go, but I wasn't going to give up on my goals that easily. Though I was starting back at square one, relearning basic rules and principles of art, they were presented in a way that I had never heard of before but that made more sense. That was the start of the long road that I'm still on today of trying to understand truth, beauty, the necessity of art, and my own abilities in relation to those. 
At the CAS we've seen many students come and go. Some just couldn't understand what we were trying to teach them, other's didn't want to understand. Egos are dangerous things that can get in the way of true knowledge. Telling a student to start over on a drawing today brings up those emotions I felt that day at the FAA a long time ago. Though their experience might be different, their egos are always slightly (sometimes not so slightly) crushed. Having the humility to not only physically, but mentally start over is a tough challenge. But the old saying of "whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger" seems to fit here. If the student is humble enough, they will overcome what ailed their thinking and come out a better artist than before. 
Part of the problem of humbling a student is forcing them to see the mistakes they chose to make. The instructor cannot and should not explain every detail of every drawing and every problem that can arise before the student even starts it. If they did the student would be more confused and veer even more off track than if they are slowly guided through. However, this poses the problem of the student lashing out at the instructor for not warning them of the consequences should they make whatever decision that was incorrect. "Why didn't you tell me?" is a phrase that I have heard countless times around the studio. I've even thought it myself at times. But the fault is not with the instructor. No, it's in the student. The student must interpret what the instructor is teaching and that interpretation will reveal itself on the paper. Sometimes it's right. Sometimes it's wrong. But should a wrong decision be pointed out the student must be willing to step back and fix the problem instead of sweeping it to the back of their mind. The goal of the CAS, ultimately, is to give students all of the tools necessary to be self sufficient as an artist. If the student is unwilling to face their poor decisions they will always err toward mediocrity. We all have our blind spots. Teachers are there to help us overcome them. 
In order to be truly great, we must continually study and be humble enough to change when we need to. Confidence in our work is a necessity for an artist, but we must be careful not build egos. True confidence only comes with understanding each decision you are making and the consequences of those decisions. Egos are built upon lies and naïvety. I am constantly shifting between confidence and insecurity in my own work. One day I may feel really great about a piece, the next I may want to rip it to shreds. This keeps me digging deeper to understand my decisions and how I can make better ones on the next piece. 
I guess the moral of this story is to never be complacent with where you are if you want to be anything more than mediocre in any field. Not that there's anything wrong with mediocrity. I want to learn how to play the guitar and be able to understand the instrument and music. But I don't want to be a rock star. I don't even want to perform for anybody. I just want to be able to play for myself- I want mediocrity. But art is different. I want to be one of the best in the world, and the only way to do that is to be humble enough to overcome my weaknesses so I can accomplish more on every new piece.