Edgar Degas, Portrait de AC Duranty, 1879(1 v —58).

Tempera and
pastel on canvas, 39 'A x 39 '/s in. (100.6 x 100.6 cm). The Burrell
Collection, Glasgow Art Gallery and .Museum.
The N ew Painting:
Concerning the Group of Artists
Exhibiting at the DurancbRuel Galleries
Louis Emile Edmond Duranty

Louis Emile Edmond Duranty (18 3 3 -18 8 0 ), who was shortcomings, he recognized that art was changing pro­
rumored to have been the illegitimate son o f Prosper foundly as a result o f avant-garde innovations and atti­
Merimée ( 1 8 0 3 - 1 8yo), emerged in french literary cir­ tudes. However, as has been recognized by Reutersward,
cles in 1836 as the editor o f Réalisme, a review that Nochlin, and Reff, Duranty’s point o f view is predictably
failed the following year after six issues were published. prejudiced in favor o f Realist thinking and seems to have
After the demise o f this periodical Duranty channeled his been influenced by the example o f his friend Degas. In
interest in and support o f Realism into the closely related R e ff’s words,
Naturalist movement in literature. During the 1 860s he In his well-known pamphlet The N ew Painting (1 876)
wrote novels and short stories that are dogmatically . . . [Duranty] discusses Degas’s contribution to recent
Realist-Naturalist in approach, but stylistically rather art in detail. . . . Without naming him . . . Duranty insists
dry. His fiction met with only limited success and was that “ the series of new ideas was formed above all in the
soon overshadowed by that o f such major Naturalist mind of a draftsman . . . a man of rhe rarest talent and
writers as Emile Zola (1840—1 <joi) and Gustave rarest intellect.” These ideas consist above all in estab­
Flaubert ( 1 8 1 1 —1880). lishing an intimate rapport between the figure in a work
Duranty’s reputation as an author depends primarily of art and its setting, which must be characterized as
on the essay reprinted here, The New Painring: Concern­ carefully as the figure itself. . . .
ing rhe Group of Arrisrs Exhibiting ar the Durand-Ruel However, Duranty’s essay cannot be reduced to a mere
Galleries. It was originally published in 1 8y6, at about exercise in Realist-Naturalist theory with strong positiv­
the time o f the Impressionists' second group show, as a ist overtones (see note 1), or to a manifesto about avant-
thirty-eight-page pamphlet. This study has often been garde art that is principally of value in dealing with
hailed as the first cogent attempt to deal with the salient Degas’s art.
characteristics o f avant-garde painting as a whole during The New Painting impresses upon us in a general way
the iSyos. Interestingly, Duranty avoided the use o f the the viability and worthiness of subjects from modern life,
word Impressionism and any other overly restrictive and the new stylistic approaches appropriate to them.
terms. In addition, he did not give the names o f the artists Although Duranty’s prose style as a critic is often as
whose work he cites in the course of the essay. Fie seems uninspiring as that o f his fiction, we feel his sense of dis­
to have wanted to achieve the broadest, least prejudicial covery when he writes, “ / am less concerned with the
definition o f the modern movement. Nevertheless, in actual exhibition [the second Impressionist group showj
1 8y8 when the Italian critic Diego Martelli requested a than its cause and idea.” Moreover, he knows that a fun­
copy o f The New Painting, Duranty wrote in the margins damental change is at hand: “ The idea, the very first idea,
o f the pamphlet the names o f the artists cited (see note 1). was to eliminate the partition separating the artist’s stu­
In our reprint, we have included the artists’ names in dio from everyday life, and to introduce the reality o f the
brackets. street that shocks the writer in the Revue des Deux
The New Painting begins with a refutation o f a recent Mondes jFromentinj.” And, finally, there is no mistaking
article by Eugène Fromentin (iS z o -i8 y 6 ), who had the excitement o f an individual as he draws our attention
attacked new tendencies in painting and defended the to esthetic advances o f enormous magnitude: "This
principles o f academicism (see note 3). In his essay Dur­ extraordinary man [Diderot j is at the threshold o f every­
anty explores the origins o f the new art and defines its thing that the art o f the nineteenth century would like to
position vis-a-vis the principles advocated by the F.cole accomplish."
des beaux-Arts. While his art history may have serious c .S.m .

DU R A N T V
A painter [Eugène Fromentin|,2 eminent among those escape this fusion of genres or resist the temptation to
whose talent we do not admire, and who moreover has enter the mainstream.
the gift and good fortune to be a writer, recently stated in Look closely at the changes that are taking place from
the Revue des Deux Mondes: ' year to year. Without examining them in depth, consider
The so-called doctrine o f Realism'1 has no more impor­ only the color o f the paintings: from dark, the colors are
tant basis than a true and sound observation of the laws becoming light, black is turning to white, the deep moves
o f color. Still we are forced to acknowledge that there is to the surface, the fluid becomes rigid, glossy turns to
some merit in the Realists' ambitions, and that if they matte, and chiaroscuro gives way to the effects o f Japa­
knew more and painted better, some o f them would paint nese prints. Then you will see enough to realize that there
very well indeed. In general, they have an exacting eye is a spirit here that is changing direction, and that the
and a particularly refined sensitivity. Yet strangely atelier is opening itself to the light o f the street.
enough, the other aspects o f their craft are not as good. /1 These observations were made with caution, courtesy,
seems they possess that most rare ability o f lacking what irony, and even a touch of melancholy.
should be the most common, so much that their eye and But they are curious when one considers the influence
their sensitivity, which are o f great value, are wasted this artist-writer exerts over the new generation just pro­
because they are not properly employed. They appear to duced by the Ecole des Beaux-Arts.
be revolutionary by pretending to accept only half o f the 1 he observations are even more curious when one
requisite truths. As a result, they come close yet fall far considers that this same person —who believes that the
short o f the whole truth. Open air, diffused light, and faithful depiction of the costumes, faces, and customs of
real sunlight have today assumed greater importance in our contemporaries is a mark of mediocrity-devotes his
painting than ever before, and which, quite frankly, they own efforts to depicting the costumes, faces, and customs
do not deserve. . . . of—whom? Contemporary Arabs. Why does he persist in
Painting today is never bright enough, never sharp hindering the colonization of Algeria? No one knows.
enough, never explicit enough, never crude enough. . . . And why should contemporary Arabs seem to him the
What the mind once imagined is now held to be arti­ only ones worthy of the preoccupation of the painter?
fice, and every artifice—by which 1 mean every Indeed, no one knows that either.
convention —is prohibited in an art that should be noth­ Returning to Paris from the Sahel,7 our artist ran into a
ing but convention. From all o f this, as can be well imag­ fellow artist [Gustave Moreau]—a tormented and sensi­
ined, controversies have erupted in which these students tive soul nurtured on ancient poetry and symbology. Per­
o f nature have the majority on their side. They have haps this artist is even the greatest lover of myths on this
scornfully labeled all opposing practices vieux jeu, ’ earth, as he spends his life interrogating the Sphinx.
meaning it is an antiquated, doddering, and outdated Together, they inspire these new groups of young artists,
manner o f perceiving nature by putting some o f oneself bottle-fed on official and traditional art. A strange sys­
into it. But their choice o f subject, draftsmanship, and tem of painting has resulted, limited on the south by
palette all contribute to an impersonal manner o f per­ Algeria, on the east by mythology, on the west by ancient
ceiving and depicting the world. Fiere we are far from history, and on the north by archaeology. Truly this is the
traditional practices indeed—or at least, from the tradi­ confused painting of an era of criticism, curio-hunting,
tional practices o f forty years ago. Then the bitumen and pastiche.
flowed freely from the palettes o f the Romantic painters The young artists make every effort to blend into this
and passed for the representative color o f the ideal. These art all styles and manners. Their odious and washed-out
trends are flaunted annually at a specific time and place, figures sprawl against cloth colors lifted clumsily from
our spring exhibitions É I f one keeps at all current with the Venetians. The colors are heated until they glare, or
the new trends presented there, he notices that the goal o f diluted until they fade away [Jacques Fernand Humbert).
the new painting is to assail the eyes o f the public with They borrow —one should really say they seize—Dela­
striking and literal images, easily recognizable in their croix’s backgrounds, cooling and souring them [either
truthfulness, stripped o f all artifice, and to recreate Emile Lévy or Henri Leopold Lévy], They whip together
exactly the sensation o f what is seen in the street. The a mixture of Carpaccio, Rubens and Signol, perhaps
public is only too ready to celebrate an art that so faith­ mixing in a little Prud’hon and Lesueur [Fernand Cor-
fully depicts its own costumes, faces, customs, tastes, mon], and serve up a strange ragout, meager and fer­
habits, and spirit. But what about history painting, one mented, a salad of impoverished lines, angular and jolt­
asks? Can one even be certain that a school o f history still ing. It is a dish of clashing colors, too faded or too acid,
exists, at the rate things are going? Even if this old term and confused forms, thin, awkward, turgid, and sickly. It
from the ancien régime still applied to those traditions so is only a certain degree of strangeness achieved by the
brilliantly championed but so little followed, one must investigations of an evolving archaeology that give some
not be fooled into thinking that history painting will piquancy to this negative and muddled art.

Tilt NEW PAINTING

 Archaeology, however, is nor their held; they should strange education of their youth, so well described by the
leave that to the archaeologists. If an art is indeed imper­ drawing master M. Lecoq de Boisbaudran,15 whose sim­
sonal, it is not the one so designated by our painter- ple and exact account is cruder than any joke:
author, but rather the art of the Ecole des Benux-Arts. Naturally, the young people who prepare for the compe­
All conventions meet in it, it is true, but the result tition direct all their efforts toward obtaining its prizes.
lacks everything that is part of man-his individuality Unfortunately, the path that generally seems to them the
and his spirit. surest and easiest is the imitation o f those previously
Do these artists of the Ecole really believe that they honored works, those which are unfailingly exhibited
have created great art because they have rendered hel­ with all due honor and pomp, as if offered as the means
mets, footstools, polychrome columns, boats, and bor­ to success. Can anyone fail to understand the full signifi­
dered robes according to the latest archaeological cance o f such incentives when most candidates abandon
decrees? Do they believe they succeed because in their fig­ their own inspirations to follow slavishly the path rec­
ures they scrupulously respect the most recently accepted ommended by the Ecole, and who, consequently, are,
prototype of the Ionian, Dorian, or Phrygian race? blessed by success. With rare exceptions, a student is
Finally, do they think they are successful because they admitted to the grand competition, that is, the atelier o f
have hunted down, overwhelmed, and consigned to hell the Prix de Rom e,1' only after long study devoted exclu­
the monster “ Anachronism” ? They forget that every sively toward this goal. It is the sheer duration o f this
thirty years this same archaeology sheds its skin, and that unnatural study that renders so hazardous the preserva­
the latest word in erudite fashion-the Boeotian skullcap tion o f any originality. Those students who linger on end
with its nose and cheekguards, for example-will end up up resembling certain baccalaureate candidates who are
on the scrap heap along with David’s great helmet of more concerned with acquiring diplomas than true
Leonidas,” in its day the ultimate expression of an erudite knowledge.
familiarity with antiquities. There are two requirements for them to meet—a sketch
They do not realize that it is by the flame of contempo­ or composition on a given subject and a figure painted
rary life that great artists and learned men illuminate from a model. This preparation becomes the sole preoc­
these ancient things. Veronese’s Wedding at Cana9 cupation o f these young pupils. They seek no other
would have failed pathetically without his Venetian course o f study than the daily repetition o f these banal
gentlemen. M. Renan did not hesitate to compare Pon­ figures and sketches, always executed with the dimen­
tius Pilate to a prefect of Basse-Bretagne,‘°or M. de sions, time-constraints, and customary style o f the
Remusat to Saint-Philotee.1' As a very observant artist competition.
said to me the other day, the strength of the English in art After entire years devoted to such exercises, what can
comes from the fact that Ophelia is always a lady in their possibly remain o f the most valuable qualities? What
minds.12 What is it, then, this world of the Ecole des becomes o f the naive, the sincere, and the natural: The
Beaux-Arts, even taken at its best? One sees reflected in it exhibitions o f the Ecole des Beaux-Arts demonstrate
the melancholy of those who sit without appetite at a their loss only too well.
table laden with wonderful things. Deprived of the Occasionally, candidates might imitate the style o f
capacity for pleasure themselves, they do not enjoy the their master or that o f a famous artist. Others might seek
banquet, but find fault with those who do. their inspiration from former prize-winners o f the Ecole,
They are melancholy because they sense that their from the latest successes at the Salon, or from a work
efforts are not great. In fact, it is they who limit them­ that has greatly impressed them. These various influences
selves. On one hand they perfect the bedding of Antiq­ might give an appearance o f variety to some o f the exhi­
uity and restore Homeric bric-a-brac, and on the other bitions, but this appearance is far from the true diversity
they fraternize with the chaonchs (Algerian lackeys) and and original character that comes from individual
the biskris (Arab peasants]. They have taken their black- inspiration.
bearded model down from his studio platform and stuck Well! Gentlemen! As artists you have nothing to be
him on a camel before the Portail de Gaillon. They have proud of in receiving an education that only turns out a
cloaked him in a woolen bedspread borrowed from the race of sheep, for you will be called the Dishley-
butcher next door because this fraternizing with Arabs Merinos15 of art.
has made them blood-thirsty. Finally, they have added Nevertheless, it would appear that you are disdainful
the secar la cabeza of the sabir jargon of the swarthy of the endeavors of an art that tries to capture life and the
natives in the province of Oran to their Italian vocabu­ modern spirit, an art that reacts viscerally to the specta­
lary brought back from Rome. cle of reality and of contemporary life. Instead, you cling
And that’s that. After this little voyage, they will go to the knees of Prometheus and the wings of the Sphinx.
happily off to posterity. And do you know why you do it? Without suspecting
Yet, could they have gone any farther, given the it, what you really want is to ask the Sphinx for the secret

DURANTY 39
of our time and Prometheus tor the sacred fire of the Besides, your Greek woman looks quite ill, judging
present age. No, you are not as disdainful as you appear. from the way you always depict her: haggard, tottering,
You are made uneasy by this artistic movement that either livid or sallow, with empty, sunken eyes. She has
already has lasted for a long time, which perseveres been brought to the Ecole de Rome so many times that
despite the obstacles and despite the little sympathy she has caught m al'ana.
shown it. In the meantime, come and have a look into the little
But despite all that you know, ultimately you would garden of the people here. You will see that they are
like to be individuals. You begin to be disgusted by this trying to create from scratch a wholly modern art, an art
mummification, this sickening embalming of the spirit. imbued with our surroundings, our sentiments, and the
You start to look over the wall into the little garden of things of our age.
these new painters, perhaps just to throw stones into it, A commonplace idea is just as likely to be easily
or perhaps simply to see what is going on there. expressed, varied, and modified in all its tones as a new
Come now, tradition is in disarray; your efforts to idea is subject to being stuttered when first expressed.
build on. it prove this only too well. You feel you must let The advantage, both material and rhetorical, has been
in that light from the street that fails to satisfy your on the side of the quai Maiaquais16—it would be childish
guide, that honorable and clever painter-author, so cour­ to deny it. That’s a far cry, however, from saying that the
teous, so ironic, and so cynical in his speech. You, too, people of the quai Maiaquais are correct.
would very much like to come out into the world. The strength of Renaissance artists and the pre-
Tradition is in disarray, but tradition is tradition, rep­ Renaissance primitives came from the fact that under the
resenting as it does the ancient and magnificent formulas guise of Antiquity—or one should simply say the label of
of the preceding ages. Like feudal serfs you are bound to Antiquity —they described the customs, costumes, and
the land of official art by the legitimists, while these new decors of their own age, revealing their private lives and
painters are considered artistic revolutionaries. The bat­ recording an era. They did it simply and naturally, with­
tle is really between you and them. Among their adver­ out criticism or debate, and without having the need, as
saries, you are the only ones they esteem. You deserve lib­ we have, to distinguish the right path from the wrong
eration. They will bring it to you. But before that, ones.
perhaps, it might be brought to you by women. By In literature we have succeeded —laboriously and
women? Why not. thanks to brilliant examples—in putting this subject
"Isn’t it curious,” 1 read in a letter from that same beyond dispute.17 Like literature, current serious art crit­
observant painter who already has provided me with one icism is Realist, affecting the most varied forms and tech­
interesting reflection, is it not curious indeed that niques. The present author of these lines has contributed
A sculptor or a painter has a wife or a mistress who is to the establishment of this movement, for which he was
slim, light, and lively, with a turned-up nose and small one of the first to provide a clear esthetic definition nearly
eyes. He loves these things in her, even with their faults. twenty years ago.18
Perhaps he even went through a passionate affair to win Painting, too, must enter this movement. Artists of
her. Now, this woman —who is the ideal o f this artist’s great talent have attempted to do so ever since Courbet.
heart and mind, who has aroused and revealed his true Like Balzac, they have blazed the trail enthusiastically.
taste, sensitivity, and imagination because he has discov­ Painting must enter it because, however conventional
ered and chosen her—is the absolute opposite o f the femi­ one might wish it to be, painting is the least conventional
nine ideal that he insists on putting into his paintings and of all the arts. It is the only art that successfully recreates
statues. Instead he keeps returning to Greece, to women figures and objects, which fixes figures, costumes, and
who are somber, severe, and strong as horses. In the backgrounds, leaving nothing to doubt or ambiguity,
morning he betrays the turned-up nose that delights him which imitates, depicts, and sums up life better than any
at night, and straightens it. Consequently, he either dies other art, in spite of all artifice and technique.
of boredom or brings to his work all the gaiety and effort As for the groups of artists who work outside of the
o f thought o f a box-maker who is skilled at gluing and Ecole des Beaux-Arts, yet remain tied to its influence,
who wonders where he will go to have some fun after he they are hybrids.
has finished work. Some of them come from that universal studio of anec­
Someday, perhaps, the living woman with her turned- dotal archaeology (Jean-Léon Gèrôme] where they turn
up nose will evict that Greek Venus of marble with her out costumes ranging from the Roman gladiator’s helmet
straight nose and heavy chin. She has embedded herself down to the Premier Consul’s little hat. They have sure
in your brain like debris from an ancient frieze that the methods of execution (Jean Vibert], a manner of model­
mason has built into a wall, the excavation over. On that ing established once and for all, and they turn out a con­
day, the real artist, latent beneath the shell of the deft trived and sententious carnival of characters. They have
box-gluer, will quicken into life. outdone their master and asked actors to show them

40 THE Ni-:\V P A I N T I N G
theatrical grimaces for the faccs-invariably the sam c-of Les demoiselles du village.14 1 hey are in the work of the
their little marquis, their eccentrics, their pages, monks, great Ingres and Millet, those pious and ingenuous spir­
and archers, conscientiously copied according to the its, those men of powerful instinct. Ingres sat on the ivory
wishes of the patron, whom they dress up in cheap finery, footstool with Homer and was among the crowd who
too faded or too new. Their figures parade about always watched Phidias work on the Parthenon, but he brought
with conviction, like characters dressed up for Mid-Lent back from Greece only respect for nature, returning
coming out of a laundry.19 instead to spend his life with the Famille Robillard, as
Others, their rivals, follow the footsteps of Fortuny.20 well as the comte Mole and the due d'Orléans.2’ He
They have discovered shimmering-iridescences, brilliant never hesitated or cheated when confronted with modern
highlights, and scintillating contrasts. They turn out a forms, and executed portraits of such simplicity and
virtuoso pageant of arpeggios, trills, chiffons, and cre- truth that they were rigorous, bold, and strange, and
pons derived without benefit of observation, thought, or would not have been out of place in the Salon des
the desire to examine. They have dressed up, made up, Refusés. Millet, that Homer of the modern countryside,
and prettied up Nature, covering her with curls and frills. gazed at the sun until he was blinded by it. He depicted
Like hairdressers, they have coif fed and styled her as if the laboring peasant as a simple animal among the oxen,
for an operetta. Profit and commerce play far too impor­ swine, and sheep. He adored the land, which he depicted
tant a role in their work. as infinitely simple, noble, and rustic, yet bathed in
When 1 add to these the painters who have attached radiant light.
themselves to the Etat-major,2' who pass their time The roots of the new painting lie also in the work of
between the bugle and the drum, the count will be com­ the great Corot and his disciple Chintreuil,26 that man
plete. One reproaches these painters for being too facile who was always searching, and whom Nature seems to
and lacking profundity. They are neither true painters have loved because she revealed so many of her secrets to
nor true draftsmen, nor are they determined, although him. They appear next among some of the students of a
some of them mean well and have some spirit. certain drawing master, whose name in particular is
Thus the battle really is between traditional art and the linked to the so-called method of l ’éducation de la
new art, between old painting and the new painting. The mémoire pittoresque,27 but whose principal merit lies in
idea on exhibit in the Durand-Ruel galleries has its sole allowing the originality and individual inclinations of his
adversaries at the Ecole and the fnstitut. It is there that students to develop, rather than leading them along the
the movement can, and must, seek its converts. However, beaten path under the yoke of inviolable technique.
it is only there, at the Ecole and lnstitut, that it has been Simultaneously, the origins of the new painting are vis­
treated with any justice. ible in the work of the Dutch painter of perfect tonalities
Ingres and his principal students admired Courbet. who veiled his windmills, steeples, and ship masts in
Flandrin greatly encouraged that other realistic painter22 shimmering and delicate grays and violets |Johan Bar­
now established in England, who had a passion for con­ thold Jongkind]. They also lie with another painter from
temporary religious scenes in which he was able to Honfleur who carefully observed and analyzed the ocean
express both naivete and grandeur, whether in his paint­ skies, rendering the essence of the seascape (Eugène Bou­
ings or in his powerful etchings. din]. Both contributed their share to this enthusiastic
In effect the movement already has its roots. It was not expedition that sees itself setting sail, searching out new
born only yesterday, but at least the day before. It was passageways as it navigates Art’s Cape of Good Hope.
little by little that it evolved and abandoned the old These daring and determined explorers first appeared
approach in order to reach the open air and real sunlight. at the Salon des Refusés in 1 863.28 Since then several of
Little by little it rediscovered originality and spontaneity. them have won medals or found fame and fortune in
That is to say, it discovered real character in its subjects London or Paris.
and in its composition. Little by little it developed a pene­ I have already mentioned the painter of L ’ex-voto
trating draftsmanship, consonant with the character of (Alphonse Legros],29 the work that appeared in 186 j .
modern beings and things. With great sagacity and per­ This painting was quite modern, yet had the ingenuous­
ception it revealed their mannerisms, professional behav­ ness and grandeur of fifteenth-century works. What,
ior, and the gestures and sentiments appropriate to their then, did it depict? Just some old, ordinary women,
class and rank. dressed in ordinary clothes. But that quality of rigidly
In order to speak of a movement, 1 have combined dis­ mechanical dullness produced by the painful and narrow
crete artistic efforts and temperaments, but ones that are life of the humble springs from these lined and withered
similar in their endeavors and aims. faces with a profound intensity. All that is striking in
The origins of these efforts and the first manifestations human beings, all that holds the attention, all that is sig­
of these temperaments can be found in the atelier of nificant, concentrated, and unexpected in life radiates
Courbet in such works as L ’enterrement d ’Ornans23 and from these old creatures.

DURANTY 4'
 Three years ago, in these same Durand-Ruel galleries, | Felix Bracquemond) who was such a remarkable por­
another painter, an American [James Abbott McNeill traitist in the manner of Holbein, but who now spends
Whistler), exhibited remarkable portraits and paintings his time decorating faience. We must include as well that
with color variations of infinite delicacy —dusky, dif­ young Neapolitan painter [Giuseppe de Nittis] who loves
fused, and vaporous tints that belong to neither night nor to depict the srreet life of London and Paris.
day. A third painter [Henri hantin-l-atour| created a These, then, are the artists who exhibit in the Durand-
highly personal palette, subtly rich and harmonious, and Ruel galleries, in association with those who preceded
became the most marvelous flower painter of our time. them and those who accompany them. They are isolated
He united contemporary artistic and literary figures in a no longer. It would be a mistake to consider them as
curious series of group portraits, introducing himself as a drawing alone upon their own resources.
remarkable painter of characters, which should become 1 am less concerned with the present exhibition than its
even more evident in the future. Finally, another painter cause and idea.
|Edouard Manet) repeatedly produced the most daring What, then, do this cause and idea bring us? What
innovations, and carried on an impassioned fight. He did does the movement contribute? And, consequently, what
not ler in only a crack of light, but flung wide the win­ do these artists contribute, these artists who wrestle with
dows and advanced into the open air and real sunlight. tradition, admire it, and simultaneously want to destroy
Time and time again he placed himself at the forefront of it, these artists who acknowledge that tradition is great
the movement. With a candor and courage linking him to and powerful and who attack it for that very reason?
men of genius, he offered the public the most innovative Why, then, are people interested in them? Why are
works, works fraught with flaws yet full of fine qualities, they forgiven for too often producing—and with a touch
works full of depth and originality standing apart from of laziness—nothing but sketches, abbreviated summa­
all others, works whose strength of expression inevitably ries of works?
clashes with the hesitancy of an almost entirely new feel­ The real reason is that, in an age like ours, when there
ing that does not yet have the means to express itself seems nothing left to discover, when previous ages have
fully. been analyzed so much, and when we suffocate under the
1 have not named these artists, because they are not weight of the creations of past centuries, it is a great sur­
exhibiting here this year. However, in the years to come, prise to see new ideas and original creations suddenly
perhaps they will not be afraid to exhibit where their burst forth. A new branch emerges on the trunk of the
banners already are raised and their battle cries written old tree of art. Will it bear leaves, flowers, and fruit? Will
on the walls. it spread its shade over future generations? 1 hope so.
Also associated with this movement at one time was What, then, do these painters contribute?
the painter of kitchen scenes (Theodule Augustin Robot], A new method of color, of drawing, and a gamut of
as was the painter of cauldrons and fish [Antoine Vol- original points of view.
lonj. The former, however, has returned to the vieux jeu Some of them limit themselves to transforming tradi­
and the latter has sought a refuge, a fortress, in the use of tion, striving to translate the modern world without
lampblack. They seemed more open before, disposed to a deviating too far from the superannuated and magnifi­
nature that is bright and smiling, surrounded by a rain­ cent formulas that served earlier eras. Others cast aside
bow, softened by reflected light, and embellished by the the techniques of the past without another thought.
prismatic iridescence of the air. In the field of color they made a genuine discovery for
A Belgian painter [Alfred Stevens) of great talent who which no precedent can be found, not in the Dutch mas­
has not exhibited for a long time, but who was called the ter, not in the clear, pale tones of fresco painting, nor in
man of modernity by his compatriots, also was part of the soft tonalities of the eighteenth century.
this movement and still is today. Another painter we They are not merely preoccupied by the refined and
must include is that young portraitist of sound and solid supple play of color that emerges when they observe the
yet unsophisticated technique, whom success no longer way the most delicate ranges of tone either contrast or
abandons (Charles Auguste Emile Carolus-Duranj. He intermingle with each other. Rather, the real discovery of
set out with this movement, was a brother in art, a mate these painters lies in their realization that strong light
of those 1 mentioned earlier. He preferred, however, to mitigates color, and that sunlight reflected by objects
return to a firmly established approach to execution, and tends, by its very brightness, to restore that luminous
was content to occupy the top rung of art’s middle class. unity that merges all seven prismatic rays into one single
Now he dabs no more than the tip of his finger into that colorless beam-light itself.
original art in which he was born and bred, and in which Proceeding by intuition, they little by little succeeded
he once was immersed, right up to his neck. in splitting sunlight into its rays, and then reestablishing
Last, Meryon the engraver also was part of this move­ its unity in the general harmony of the iridescent color
ment, as was that other painter, engraver, and draftsman that they scatter over their canvases. With regard to

t - THH NEW PAINTING

visual subtleties and delicate blending of colors, the painters trained outside of nature and in opposition to it.
result is utterly extraordinary. Even the most learned It is something much too bright and distinct, much too
physicist could find nothing to criticize in these painters’ crude and explicit.
analysis of light. Turning to drawing, it is well understood that among
In this connection, some speak of the Japanese, and these new painters as elsewhere, the inevitable differ­
maintain that these new painters do nothing more than ences between colorists and draftsmen persist. Thus,
imitate the color of Japanese prints. when I speak of color, you should only think of those
Indeed, 1 said earlier that they had set off to round who primarily are colorists. And, when I refer to draw­
Art’s Cape of Good Hope. Was it not, then, in order to ing, you should only envision those who primarily are
travel to the Far East? For if the same instincts of the draftsmen.
Asian peoples, who live in the perpetual daze of the sun, In his Essay on Painting on the Salon of i 765, the
impels these painters to render the sensation that contin­ great Diderot established the ideal of modern drawing—
ually strikes them —specifically, that of clear, matte tones, that is, drawing from nature, based on observation:
amazingly live and light, and of its luminous quality dis­ We say o f a man passing in the street that he is a poor
tributed almost equally everywhere-then why not inves­ specimen. Measured in terms o f our wretched little rules,
tigate such an instinct, placed as it is for observation at yes. But in terms o f nature, it is a different matter. We say
the very sources of the sun’s brilliance? o f a statue that its proportions are beautiful. Yes, follow ­
Was there not, in the proud, melancholy eye of the ing our wretched little rules, but in terms o f nature . . . !
Hindus, in the great, languorous, contemplative eye of Were I initiated into the mysteries of art, perhaps I
the Persians, and in the lively, narrowed eye of the would know how much the artist ought to submit to the
Chinese and the Japanese a masterful ability to blend accepted rules o f proportion, and I would tell you. But
exquisite harmonies of delicate, soft, neutral tones with what I do know is that these rules cannot compete
bold, bright colors? against the omnipotence o f nature, and that the age and
Although the Venetians had glimpsed these facts about condition o f the subject predicate compromise in a hun­
light, the Romantics knew absolutely nothing about dred different ways. I never have heard a figure accused
them. As for the Ecole des Beaux-Arrs, it never made it its of being poorly drawn as long as it convincingly demon­
concern, as there they only copy old paintings, everyone strated through its external appearance its age, bearing,
having rid himself of nature. and the ability to carry out its everyday activities. Por this
The Romantic artist, in his studies of light, knew noth­ determines both the overall size o f the figure and the cor­
ing but the orange-tinted band of the setting sun over rect proportions o f the limbs, as well as whether they fit
somber hills, or the white impasto tinged with chrome together, from these characteristics emerge the child, the
yellow or rose lake, which he threw across the opaque grown man, and the old man; the savage or civilized
bitumen of his woods. No light could exist without bitu­ man; the magistrate, the soldier, and the stevedore. If
men, without ivory black, or Prussian blue, without the there is a figure difficult to envisage, it would be that o f a
contrasts that were said to make the tone appear warmer, twenty-five-year-old man, created instantly from the raw
to heighten it. He believed that light colored and awak­ clay, who never had done anything. Such a man, how ­
ened tone, and was persuaded that it could not exist ever, is only a figment o f the imagination.
unless surrounded by shadow. A cellar pierced by a What we seek at present is neither a calligraphic tech­
bright ray issuing from a narrow opening—such was the nique for features or contours, nor decorative elegance in
ideal that ruled the Romantic. Even today, landscape is lines, nor an imitation of the Greek figures of the Renais­
everywhere treated as if it were the back wall of a chim­ sance. The same Diderot, describing the figure of a
ney or the back room of a shop. hunchback, said, “ Cover this figure, and show' nothing
And yet everyone has crossed seventy-five miles of but the feet to Nature, and Nature will tell you without
countryside in the middle of summer, and seen how the hesitation: ‘These are the feet of a hunchback’.”
hillsides, meadow's, and fields disappear, as it were, into a This extraordinary man is at the threshold of every­
single luminous reflection that they share with rhe sky. thing that the art of the nineteenth century would like to
For such is the law that engenders light in nature-in accomplish.
addition to the particular blue, green, or composite ray And what drawing w'ants in terms of its current goals
of light that each substance absorbs, it reflects both the is just to know' nature intensely and to embrace nature
spectrum of all light-rays and the tint of the vault that with such strength that it can render faultlessly the rela­
curves above the earth. Moreover, for the first time paint­ tions between forms, and reflect the inexhaustible diver­
ers understand and reproduce these phenomena, or try sity of character. Farewell to the human body treated like
to. In certain canvases you feel the vibration and palpita­ a vase, with an eye for the decorative curve. Farewell to
tion of light and heat. You feel an intoxication of light, the uniform monotony of bone structure, to the anatomi­
which is something of no merit or importance for those cal model beneath the nude. What w'e need are the

DURANTY -J.5
special characteristics of the modern individual-in his background, or by making old sideboards and vases
clothing, in social situations, at home, or on the street. shine in the light of the atelier.
The fundamental idea gains sharpness of focus. 1his is If one wants to be truthful, one must neither conflate
the joining of torch to pencil, the study of states of mind time and place, nor confuse the time of day and the
reflected by physiognomy and clothing. It is the study of source of light. The velvety shadows and golden light of
the relationship of a man to his home, or the particular Dutch interiors resulted from the structure of their
influence of his profession on him, as reflected in the ges­ houses, the small, multi-paned, leaded windows, and the
tures he makes: the observation of all aspects of the envi­ misty streets beside steaming canals. Here, in our homes,
ronment in which he evolves and develops. tonal values vary infinitely, depending on whether one is
A back should reveal temperament, age, and social on the first floor or the fourth, whether a home is heavily
position, a pair of hands should reveal the magistrate or furnished and carpeted, or whether it is sparsely fur­
the merchant, and a gesture should reveal an entire range nished. An atmosphere is created in every interior, along
of feelings. Physiognomy will tell us with certainty that with a certain personal character that is taken on by the
one man is dry, orderly, and meticulous, while another is objects that fill it. The number, spacing, and arrange­
the epitome of carelessness and disorder. Attitude will ment of mirrors decorating an apartment and the num­
reveal to us whether a person is going to a business meet­ ber of objects hung on the walls—these things bring
ing, or is returning from a tryst. “ A man opens a door, he something to our homes, whether it is an air of mystery
enters, and that is enough: we see that he has lost his or a kind of brightness, that can be achieved no longer
daughter!” Hands kept in pockets can be eloquent. The with Flemish methods and harmonies, even by adding
artist’s pencil will be infused with the essence of life. We Venetian formulas, nor by using any imaginable combi­
will no longer simply see lines measured with a compass, nation of daylight and composition in the best-equipped
but animated, expressive forms that develop logically studio.
from one another. . . . Suppose, for example, that at a given moment we
But drawing is such an individual and indispensable could take a colored photograph of an interior. We
means of expression that one cannot demand from it would have a perfect match, a truthful and real represen­
methods, techniques, or points of view. It fuses with its tation, with every element sharing the same feeling. Sup­
goal, and remains the inseparable companion of the idea. pose then that we waited, and when a cloud covered the
Thus, the series of new ideas that led to the develop­ sun, we immediately took another picture. We would
ment of this artistic vision took shape in the mind of a have a result analogous to the first. It is up to observation
certain draftsman [Edgar Degas], one of our own, one to compensate for these instantaneous means of execu­
of the new painters exhibiting in these galleries, a man tion that we do not possess, and to preserve intact the
of uncommon talent and exceedingly rare spirit. Many memory of the images they would have rendered. But
artists will not admit that they have profited from his what if we were to take some details from the first photo­
conceptions and artistic generosity. If he still cares to graph and combine them with some of the detail from
employ his talents unsparingly as a philanthropist of the second, and to create a painting? Then homogeneity,
art, instead of as a businessman like so many other art­ harmony, and the truth of the impression will have disap­
ists, he ought to receive justice. The source from which peared and have been replaced by a false and inexpres­
so many painters have drawn their inspiration ought to sive note. Every day, however, that is what painters do
be revealed. who do not look but instead rely on ready-made formu­
The very first idea was to eliminate the partition sepa­ lae provided by paintings already done.
rating the artist’s studio from everyday life, and to intro­ And, as we are solidly embracing nature, we will no
duce the reality of the street that shocks the writer in the longer separate the figure from the background of an
Revue des Deux Mondes. It was necessary to make the apartment or the street. In actuality, a person never
painter come out of his sky-lighted cell, his cloister, appears against neutral or vague backgrounds. Instead,
where his sole communication was with the sky —and to surrounding him and behind him are the furniture, fire­
bring him back among men, out into the real world. places, curtains, and walls that indicate his financial
Now these new painters have demonstrated a fact of position, class, and profession. The individual will be at a
which that writer was totally unaware. Our lives take piano, examining a sample of cotton in an office, or wait­
place in rooms and in streets, and rooms and streets have ing in the wings for the moment to go onstage, or ironing
their own special laws of light and visual language. on a makeshift table. He will be having lunch with his
For the observer there is a complete logic to the color family or sitting in his armchair near his worktable,
and drawing associated with an image, which depends absorbed in thought. He might be avoiding carriages as
on the hour, the season, and the place in which it is seen. he crosses the street or glancing at his watch as he hurries
This image is not expressed and this logic is not deter­ across the square. When at rest, he will not be merely
mined by throwing Venetian cloth together with Flemish pausing or striking a meaningless pose before the

44 T H E NEW PAI NTI NG

photographer’s lens. This moment will be a part of his grouped in a certain way, the houses nestled together in a
life as are his actions. certain fashion among the fields, and the riverbanks
The language of an empty apartment must be clear given a certain shape. Thus the character of the country­
enough to enable us to deduce the character and habits of side takes form. No one yet has discovered how to cap­
its occupant. The passersby in a street should reveal the ture the essence of the French countryside. And as we
time of day and the moment of everyday life that is have made so much of bold color, now that we have had
shown. a little fling with intoxicating color, it is time to call form
In real life views of things and people are manifested in to the banquet.
a thousand unexpected ways. Our vantage point is not At the very least, it seems preferable to paint the whole
always located in the center of a room whose two side landscape in situ, and not from a sketch brought back to
walls converge toward the back wall; the lines of sight the studio, because one gradually loses the first impres­
and angles of cornices do not always join with mathe­ sion. With very few exceptions, one must admit that
matical regularity and symmetry. Nor does our point of everything in this new movement is new or wants to be
view always exclude the large expanse of ground or floor free. Print-making, too, torments itself over technique.30
in the immediate foreground. Sometimes our viewpoint Here it takes up the dry point and uses it like a pencil,
is very high, sometimes very low; as a result we lose sight attacking the plate directly and tracing the work in a sin­
of the ceiling, and everything crowds into our immediate gle stroke [Marcellin Desboutin). There it uses the burin
field of vision, and furniture is abruptly cropped. Our to unexpectedly accent the etching. Now it changes each
peripheral vision is restricted at a certain distance from impression —lightening, shading it in mystery, literally
us, as if limited by a frame, and we see objects to the side painting by a clever manipulation of the ink at the
only as permitted by the edge of this frame. moment of printing [Viscount Ludovic Napoléon Lepic],
From indoors we communicate with the outside world At last the subject matter of art includes the simple
through windows. A window is yet another frame that is intimacies of everyday life in its repertoire, in addition to
continually with us during the time we spend at home, its generally less common interests.
and that time is considerable. Depending on whether we Twenty years ago I wrote the following about subjects
are near or far, seated or standing, the window frames in painting:
the scene outside in the most unexpected and changeable I have witnessed a whole society, a wide range o f actions
ways, providing us with constantly changing impromptu and events, professions, faces, and milieux. I have seen
views that are the great delights of life. dramatic gestures and faces that were truly paintable. /
For example, if in turn one considers a figure, either in have observed the comings and goings that are predi­
a room or on the street, it is not always in a straight line cated upon the relations between people as they met at
with two parallel objects or at an equal distance from different times and places—church, dining room, draw­
them. It is confined on one side more than on the other by ing room, cemetery, parade-ground, workshop, Cham­
space. In a word, it is never in the center of the canvas or ber o f Deputies-everywhere. Differences in dress played
the center of the scene. It is not shown whole, but often a large role in these scenes and coincided with differences
appears cut off at the knee or mid-torso, or cropped o f physiognomy, manner, feeling, and action. Everything
lengthwise. At other times the eye takes it in from up seemed to me arranged as if the world were created
close, at its full height, and relegates to perspectival dimi­ expressly for the delight o f painters, for the delight o f the
nution others in a street crowd, or a group gathered in a eye.3'
public place. It would be an endless task to detail every I imagined painting attempting a vast series about
cut or to describe every scene-the railways, notion society people, priests, soldiers, workers, and merchants.
shops, construction scaffolds, lines of gaslights, benches In such a series characters would differ in their individual
on the boulevards and newspaper kiosks, omnibuses and roles, yet be linked by those scenes common to all, espe­
teams of horses, cafés with their billiard-rooms, and res­ cially those scenes that happen frequently and thus accu­
taurants with their tables set and ready. rately express the everyday life of a country—marriages,
The new painters have tried to render the walk, move­ baptisms, births, successions, celebrations, and family
ment, and hustle and bustle of passersby, just as they scenes.
have tried to render the trembling of leaves, the shimmer I thought that a painter who had been seduced by this
of water, and the vibration of sun-drenched air—just as great spectacle might end by working with strength,
they have managed to capture the hazy atmosphere of a calm, certainty, and broad-mindedness-perhaps of a like
gray day along with the iridescent play of sunshine. possessed by no contemporary man—and gaining great
But there are so many things that the art of landscape superiority of execution and feeling.
has not yet dreamed of expressing. Almost all landscape But where, you will ask, is all this?
artists lack a feel, for the structure of the land itself. If the All this has been achieved, some of it here and some of
hills are of a certain shape, the trees are sure to be it abroad, while some lies just on the horizon. All this

DURANTY 4S
exists in works already painted, as well as in sketches, And they are nor so crazy as has been insinuated.
projects, dreams, and discussions. Art does not struggle To our time you might apply some of Constable’s curi­
in this fashion without some confusion. ous and beautiful thoughts, which certain of our own
Rather than acting as a group who share the same goal new painters seem to share with him:
and who arrive successively at this crossroads where The execution of my pictures, I know, is singular, but I
many paths diverge, these artists above all are people of like that rule o f Sterne’s, 'Never njind the dogmas o f
independent temperaments. 1 hey come in search of free­ school, hut get at the heart as you can.’*4
dom, not dogma. Whatever may be thought o f my art, it is my own.**
Originality in this movement coexists with eccentricity In art, there are two modes by which men aim at dis­
and ingenuousness, visionaries exist with strict observ­ tinction. In the one, by a careful application to what oth­
ers, and ignorant naïfs with scholars who want to redis­ ers have accomplished, the artist imitates their works, or
cover the naivete of the ignorant. There are voluptuous selects and combines their various beauties; in the other,
delights in painting for those who know and love it, and he seeks excellence at its primitive source, nature. In the
there are unfortunate attempts that grate on the nerves. first, he forms a style upon the study of pictures, and pro­
An idea ferments in one’s brain while almost uncon­ duces either imitative or eclectic art; in the second, by a
scious audacity spills from another’s brush. All of this is close observation o f nature, he discovers qualities exist­
interrelated. ing in her which have never been portrayed before, and
The public is bound to misunderstand several of the thus forms a style which is original. The results o f the one
leading artists. It only accepts and understands correct­ mode, as they repeat that with which the eye is already
ness in art, and, above all, it demands finish. The artist, familiar, is soon recognized and estimated, while the
enchanted by delicacy or brilliance of color, or by the advances of the artist in a new path must necessarily be
character of a gesture or a grouping, is much less con­ slow, for few are able to judge o f that which deviates
cerned with the finish and the correctness, the only quali­ from the usual course, or are qualified to appreciate orig­
ties valued by those who are not artists. If, among our inal studies.*6
own, the new painters, there are those for whom freedom It is in this way that public ignorance encourages lazi­
is an easy question and who would be pleased if beauty in ness among artists and pushes them to imitation. The
art were to consist of painting without inconvenience, public gladly applauds pastiches painted after the great
difficulty, and pain, such pretentiousness will be dealt masters and ignores any work that is a new and daring
with appropriately. interpretation o f nature. That is a closed subject.*7
But for the most part, what they want is to work with­ Lord Bacon says, IDuranty dropped, "Cunning is
out ceremony, cheerfully and without restraint. crooked wisdom ” ! “ Nothing is more hurtful than when
Besides, it matters very little whether the public under­ cunning men pass for wise. jThis is mannerism in paint­
stands. It matters more that the artists understand. For ing. j The mannerists are cunning people: and the misfor­
them one can exhibit sketches, preparatory studies, and tune is, the public is unable to discriminate between their
preliminary work in which the thought, intention, and pictures and true painting.*6
draftsmanship of the painter often are expressed with When I sit down, [Duranty added, "pencil or brush in
greater speed and concentration. In this work one sees hand” ! to make a sketch from nature, the first thing I try
more grace, vigor, strength, and acute observation than to do is, to forget that 1 have ever seen a picture.59
in a finished work. It would astonish many, even many I have never seen an ugly thing in nature. /Diderot
students of painting, to learn that things they believe to wrote, " . . . there is nothing ugly; 1 never saw an ugly
be mere daubs embody and reveal the highest degree of thing in my life.”''0/
grace, strength, and acuity of observation, as well as the (For his part, Diderot wrote that nature never makes an
most delicate and intense feeling. incorrect thing.)
Laissez fa ire*1 laissez passer.1’* Do you not see the Certain critics exalt painting to a ridiculous degree. They
impatience in these attempts? Do you not see the irresist­ end up by giving it such high esteem that it seems as if
ible need to escape the conventional, the banal, the tradi­ nature had nothing better to do than to acknowledge
tional, as well as the need to find oneself again and run herself defeated and ask artists for lessons.4'
far from this bureaucracy of the spirit with all its rules The landscape painter must walk in the fields with an
that weigh on us in this country? Do you not see the need humble mind. No arrogant man was ever permitted to
to free your brow from this leaden skullcap of artistic see nature in all her beauty.41
routine and old refrains, to abandon at last this common The new painters also can claim as their own the fol­
pasture where we all graze like sheep? lowing words of Emile Zola concerning one of their lead­
They have been treated like madmen. They may be ers, their boldest exponent:'"
madmen, but the little finger of a fool is assuredly worth For the masses, there is an absolute ideal placed just
more than the entire head of a banal man. beyond the artist’s reach. In other words, there is an ideal

46 Ti l t: NEW P A I N T I N G
o f perfection toward which each aspires and that each inventors—some of whom are wildly successful —they
achieves to a greater or lesser degree. Thus there is a com­ reenact the fable of the chestnuts snatched from the fire
mon standard that is the Beautiful itself, a standard that and those scenes in natural history that occur between
is applied to every work created. Depending on how near ants and aphids. With great agility they snatch the ideas,
to or far from this standard it is, a work is said to have research, techniques, and subjects that their neighbor has
greater or lesser merit. But as circumstances would have painstakingly created with the sweat of his brow' and
it, that chosen standard is the Greek ideal o f beauty. The considerable nervous energy. They arrive fresh and alert
result is that judgments passed on every work created by and, with an adroit flick of the wrist, neat and clean, they
humanity are derived from the degree to which that work abscond with all or part of the property of the poor other
resembles Greek works. fellow, making fun of him in the bargain. The comedy is
What interests me, as a person, are the roots o f my really rather amusing. And the poor other fellow' can
being. What touches and enchants me among human cre­ only retain the consolation of saying, “ So, my friend, you
ations and works o f art is rediscovering in each an artist — take what’s mine!”
a brother who shows me a new side o f nature with all the In France, especially, the inventor is eclipsed by the one
power or gentleness o f his temperament. This work, who perfects and patents the invention-virtuosity takes
viewed in this light, tells me the story o f a heart and a precedence over naive clumsiness and the popularizer
body; it speaks to me o f a civilization and a land. . . . reaps the reward of the innovator.
All problems must be reexamined. Science requires But then, no one is a prophet in his own country. 1hat
solid foundations, and it has returned to the precise is why our painters are far more appreciated in England
observation o f facts. And this thrust occurs not only in and Belgium, lands of independent spirit, where no one
the scientific realm but in all fields o f knowledge; all is offended at the sight of people breaking the rules, and
human works seek the reality o f solid and definitive prin­ where they neither have nor create academic canons. In
ciples . . . art itself strives toward certainty.44 these countries, the present efforts of our friends to
However, when 1see these exhibitions, these attempts, break the barrier that imprisons art—sometimes schol­
1, too, become somewhat disheartened, and say to arly, brilliant, and successful, and sometimes disorderly
myself, where are these artists going—who are almost all and desperate—seem straightforward and worthy of
my friends, whom 1 watched with pleasure as they set off praise.
on an unknown path, who have partially achieved the But then why, you still ask, do they refuse to send their
goals defined in our youth? Will they increase their works to the Salon? Because theirs is not a painting
endowment and preserve it? exam, and because we must abolish official ceremony,
Will they become the founders of a great artistic resur­ the distribution of school-boy prizes, the university sys­
gence? Will their successors, relieved of the preliminary tem of art. If we do not begin to extricate ourselves from
difficulties of sowing the seeds, reap a great harvest? Will this system, we will never convince other artists to aban­
they have the respect for their precursors that sixteenth- don it either.
century Italians had for the quattrocentists?45 And now', 1wish fair wind to the fleet—let it carry them
Or will they simply be cannon fodder? Will they be no to the Hesperides of Art.4h I urge the pilots to be careful,
more than the front-line soldiers sacrificed by marching determined, and patient. The voyage is dangerous, and
into fire, whose bodies fill the ditch to form the bridge they should have set out in bigger, more solid vessels.
over which those following must pass? The fighters, or Some of their boats are quite small and narrow', only
rather the swindlers, for in Paris, in all the arts, there are good for coastal painting.
a goodly number of clever people lying in wait with lazy Let us hope, however, that this painting is fit for a long
and cunning minds, but busy hands. In the naive world of voyage.

DURANTY 47
Notes ited at the Salon from 1850 through 1875, and/or one ol a hardy breed
of sheep with long, fine, silky wool, originally from Spain.
1 6. The north side ol the Ecole des Beaux-Arts faces the Seine and
i The original French text is reprinted in the Appendix. runs almost the lull length of the quai Malaquais.
i. In the published version ot the essay, Durantv did not provide the 17. Duranty alludes to the Naturalist movement in literature, of
names o! any oi the artists cited. However, in s 878 he sent an anno­ which Emile Zola was the leading proponent. See Theodore Reff,
tated copy of The Neuf Painting to the Italian critic Diego Martelli Degas: The Artist’s M ind (New York, 1 977), t 1 9: "Duranty, a pioneer
( i 8 39 —1 896); in the margins he inscribed the names of the artists in the Naturalist movement whose career was later eclipsed by the fame
intended, and at the end of the text he wrote: "Les noms en marge sont of Elauhert and Zola, was often as bitter and withdrawn as he appears
écrits de ma main. Duranty. Le 9 Septembre 1 878 ' [" ! he names in the in 'The Hanker [The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York), his
margin are written in my hand. Duranty. 9 September 1 878.")- 1 hese ‘countenance soft, sad, and resigned. . . . His whole life was written, as
are the names included in brackets. it were, in the sometimes painful grin of his mouth’ [Armand Silvestre,
Martelli’s copy of The New Painting is now in the Biblioteca Maru- Au pays des souvenirs, Paris, 1 887, pp. 1 7 4 —175].”
celliana, Florence (Legato Martelli, Mise. 1201/4). For a discussion ot i 8. Duranty edited the review Réalisme during its brief existence in
the annotated copy see Oscar Reutersward, "An Unintentional Fxegete 1856-1857.
of Impressionism; Some Observations on Edmond Duranty and his ‘ La 1 9. Mid-Lent, the fourth Sunday in Lent, also known as Simnel Sun­
nouvelle peinture','’ Konsthistorisk Tidskri/t, 4 ( 1 949): 1 s 1 - 1 1 6. day or Mothering Sunday, the day when people customarily visit their
5. Fugène Fromentin, in Renne des Deux Mo}ides, 1 5 February parents to give and/or receive presents.
1 876, 7 9 5 - 7 9 7 , and again in Les maîtres d'autrefois: Belgique- 20. The reputation of Mariano Fortuny y Carbo ( 1 8 58—1 874), a
Piedlande (Paris, 1876), 2 8 3 -2 8 7 . Spanish academic Realist whose history and genre paintings sold for
4. The term Realism, as used by Fromentin, refers to a broad spec­ record prices, was near its zenith when Duranty wrote The N ew
trum ot artists that includes Gustave Courbet and his followers as well Painting.
as the emerging Impressionist circle. 21. L'état major is a military term designating the general staff. Pre­
5. Vieux jeu means literally [the] old game. Here, it refers to tradi­ sumably Duranty has in mind such successful painters of military sub­
tional, i.e. old-tashioned, techniques. jects as Edouard Détaille ( 1 8 4 8 - 19 1 2), Etienne-Prosper Berne-
6. In other words, the officially sanctioned, conservatively juried, Bellecocur ( 1 8 3 8 - 1 9 1 2 ) , and Karl Girardet ( 1 8 1 3 - 1 8 7 1 ) .
annual exhibitions known as the Salons. 22. Although Duranty did not inscribe the artist’s name in the margin
7. The Sahel is a region that borders the Sahara. of the annotated copy of The N ew Painting that he sent to Diego M ar­
8. The helmet cited here appears on the head of Leonidas in jacques- telli (see above, note 2), Alphonse Legros ( 1 8 3 7 - 1 9 1 1 ) is undoubtedly
Louis David's Leonidas at Thermopylae, 1 8 1 4 , Musée du Louvre, the artist intended. Hippolyte-Jean Flandrin ( 1 8 0 9 - i 864), one of the
Paris. most successful followers of Ingres, painted official portraits and mural
9. The version of Paolo Veronese's The Wedding at Cana is undoubt- decorations for churches.
edlv that of i 5 6 2 - 1 563 in the Musée du Louvre, Paris. 23. Gustave Courbet, L'enterrement d'O rnans {The Burial at
1 o. Ernest Renan ( 1 8 2 5 —1 892), a philosopher, historian, author, Ornans), 1 849—1 850, Musée du Louvre, Paris.
and scholar of religion who held the chair of Flebrew at the Collège de 24. Gustave Courbet, Les demoiselles du village {The Young Ladies
France, was exceedingly well known during the late nineteenth century o f the Village), 1 85 1 - 1 852, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New
as the result of the publication of his Vie de Jésus (1863). Suspended York.
from his position the year before because during his opening lecture he 25. Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres ( 1 780—i 867) included among
referred to Christ as "an incomparable man,” in the Vie de Jésus he his friends and clients duc Ferdinand-Philippe d’Orléans (181 o—1 84 2),
argued that Christ was merely an exceptional human being and attrib­ comte Louis-Matthieu Molé ( 1 78 1 —1 8 5 5), and members of the Rohil-
uted the development of Christianity to the popular imagination. lard family; all were significant figures in the political and social life of
Basse-Bretagne is western Brittany. Paris during the first half of the nineteenth century. Duranty’s point is
1 i . Count François Marie Charles de Remusat ( 1 797—1 875), author that although Ingres received a traditional training, spent long periods
and politician, is best known for his Essai sur la nature de pouvoir in Rome, and admired classical art, he lived the life of a modern Pari­
[Essay on the Nature o f Power] and a refutation of de Lamennais’s sian and devoted much of his work to the depiction of his contempo­
Essai sur l'indifférence [Essay on Indifference]. He was Undersecretary raries in characteristic attitudes, dress, and surroundings.
of State in Mole’s cabinet ( 1 8 3 6 - 1 8 3 7 ) ; allied with Thiers, he was a 26. Antoine Chintreuil (181 6—i 873) was Corot's best-known stu­
cabinet member in 1 840. During the Second Empire he was exiled. dent. His landscapes follow Corot's manner closely, yet are distin­
i 2. Possibly a reference to one of the most famous Pre-Raphaelite guished by his personal style.
paintings, John Everett Millais's Ophelia, 1855, National Gallery, 27. Lecoq de Boisbaudran. See above, note 1 3.
London. 28. In 1 863 the Salon jury rejected approximately 2,800 works sub­
13. Horace Lecoq de Boishaudran ( 1 802—1 897), a professor at the mitted by about 2,000 artists. Following a vehement protest, the artists
so-called Petite Ecole de la rue de l'Ecole de Médecine, placed a strong whose works had been refused were invited to show the rejected paint­
emphasis on drawing, both from memory and from life, as the founda­ ings in a special exhibition known as the Salon des Refusés. Among the
tion of an artist's education. See Horace Lecoq de Boisbaudran, Educa­ fewer than half who participated were Manet, Pissarro, Whistler, Fan­
tion de la mémoire pittoresque, application aux arts de dessin, 2d ed., tin-Latour, and Cézanne.
enlarged (Paris, 1862). 29. Alphonse Legros, L ’ex voto, 1 861, Musée des Beaux-Arts, Dijon.
14. Each year advanced students at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts com­ 30. Printmaking was an integral aspect of the new art. Degas and
peted for a prize known as the Prix de Rome, in effect a grant for travel Pissarro, for example, often exhibited prints and other works on paper
to Italy and unrestricted study at the Academy of France in Rome. See with their paintings in the group shows of 1 8 7 4 - 1 886. Furthermore,
Albert Boime, The Academy and French Painting in the Nineteenth the group shows also included works by numerous individuals known
Century (London, 19 71), 1 9 - 2 0 : "At its highest level, the Ecole curric­ principally as graphic artists, such as Marcellin Deshoutin and Felix
ulum assumed a more complex form as a series of competitions, the Bracquemond.
apex of which was the Prix de Rome. These contests were entirely 3 1. Presumably, Duranty refers to one of his own contributions to
supervised by the Academy and its member-professors. An innovation Réalisme, the review he edited in 18 5 6 —1857.
of the seventeenth century, the Prix de Rome embodied the quintes­ 3 2. Laissez faire means let [one] do [as he wishes). It is the doctrine or
sence of Academic philosophy and its ideal of historical painting. The practice of non-interference with regard to individual freedom of
subjects for this contest were selected from the Bible and classical litera­ choice or action. In the eighteenth century the term was used to desig­
ture. . . . The voyage to Rome represented the glory of the French art nate the policies of French economists who objected to government
student and was essentially a scholarship awarded to the Prix-de-Rome control of industry.
winner.” 33. Laissez passer means let (one) pass. The term often applies to
15. Possibly a reference to Ignacio Merino ( 1 8 1 8 - 1 876), who exhib­ documents permitting an individual to cross a regulated frontier with­
out hindrance or to attend an event that requires a ticket.

48 T H E NEW PAI NTI NG

 3 4 - Soc C. R. Leslie, The Memoirs of John Constable, Composed months later the essay was revised and reprinted as a pamphlet: Emile
Chiefly o f His letters (London, 19 51), 118. Zola, Ed. Manet, Etude biographique et critique, accompagné d'un
35. Leslie, 280. portrait d 'E d . Manet par tiracquemond et d ’une eau-forte d ’hd. Manet,
36. Leslie, 1 79. d ’après Olympia (Paris [Dentuj, 1 8671; the passages cited by Dummy
37. 1 he exact source for this quote is uncertain. It may he a para­ are located on pages 1 9, 2 1, and 26—27, but minor changes in the text
phrase of Leslie’s criticism of Mannerism, 300, perhaps with a refer­ indicate that Dummy's source was the essay as printed in 1CArtiste:
ence to 97. Revue du X I X ' Siècle. The text of the version published by Demu
38. Leslie, 274. appears in the more readily accessible Emile Zola, Oeuvres complètes,
39. Leslie, 279. ed. Henri Mittcrand (Paris (Cercle du Livre Précieux], t 969), 1 2: 829,
40. Leslie, 280. 830, and 833.
4 1. A paraphrase of Leslie, 323. 4 5. Quatorze cenlistes (literally: fourteen hundredists) refers to the
42. Leslie, 327. artists of the fifteenth century, the early Renaissance.
43. Edouard Manet. 46. In Greek mythology the Hcspcridcs (Iles-Eortunces) are the
44. Dummy quotes from Emile Zola, "Une nouvelle manière en islands at the western end of the world where nymphs, the daughters of
peinture,” ICArtiste: Renne dit X I X ' Siècle, 1 January 1867. These pas­ Hesperus, the evening star, were fabled to guard a garden of golden
sages are taken from the first section, "L'homme et l’artiste.” A few apples.

DURANTY 49