Painters From France

"The sun has lost one of its most beautiful rays."

"In July, 1841, Th. Rousseau went to Monsoult, on the borders of the Isle-Adam, where Daubigny and Corot often painted, and there with Jules Dupre he painted for several months. His studio was next door to Dupre's, whose mother became in some sense head of this artistic community of three, and very quiet and happy the time was found. Several artists visited them, such as Decamps and Barye, and this period of Rousseau's life is marked by great quietness."

"tells how Dupré saved at least one canvas, 'Border of the Forest' which Rousseau, morbidly critical, was about to injure by over-painting, or destroy altogether, by urging him to turn its face to the wall and give it a long month's lease of life. When the month had expired, he [Rousseau] examined it long and searchingly in Dupre's presence, finally exclaiming: 'Well, I am going to sign it; it is finished.'"

"..that zone of consciousness through which all artists travel mentally, before ever approaching the easel."

"..an entirely original painter [ Francois Millet ], high-minded and genuinely rustic in nature, who has expressed things about the country and its inhabitants, about their toil, their melancholy, and the nobleness of their labour. He has represented them in a somewhat barbaric fashion, in a manner to which his ideas gave a more expressive force than his hand possessed. The world has been grateful for his intentions; it has recognised in his methods something of the sensibility of a Burns who was a little awkward in expression.. ..He stands out as a deep thinker."

"The things I haven't seen with my own eyes are for me unknown."

"..the great Dutch school seemed to think of nothing but painting well [characterised by] the total absence of what today we call 'a subject'."

"Interpreting the Orient through the arts would destroy it, the artistic exploitation might eventually prove as harmful as military or political adventurism."

"What we've lost - 'I said in more or less these terms' - is the proper interest in and taste for detail. We've been noting that for a long time yet the loss is irremediable. In the old days man was everything. A human face was worth a poem. When nature appeared behind a human being it was a kind of backdrop taking the place of the dark background of portrait painters or the gold of the Italian primitives.. .The day when a separation took place art was diminished. It was transformed the day that the 'subject' and the 'genre' destroyed great painting, denaturing even landscapes."

"..Africa: it's a magic word that lends itselfs to suppositions and sets amateur explorers to dreaming. I want to try to be 'at home' on this bit of foreign [Arab] soil."

"What motive had a Dutch painter in painting a picture? None. And notice that he never asked for one. A peasant with a drunken red nose looks at you with his heavy eye and laughs with open mouth showing his teeth, raising a jug; if it is well painted, it has its value."

"The art of painting is only the art of expressing the invisible by the visible. Whether its roads be great or small, they are sown with problems which it is permitted to sound for one's self as truth, but which it is well to leave in their darkness as mysteries."

"Fromentin was more of a colorist with pen in hand but brush."

"The Algerians of Fromentin are much more real Arabs than those of his artist colleagues."

"They [the Paris art-critics] wish to force me into their drawing-room art, to break my spirit. No, no! I was born as a peasant and a peasant I will die. I say what I feel. I paint things as I see them, and I will hold my ground without retreating one sabot; if necessary, I will fight for honour."

"I remember being awakened one morning by voices in the room where I slept. There was a whizzing sound which made itself heard between the voices now and then. It was the sound of spinning-wheels, and the voices were those of women spinning and carding wool. The dust of the room danced in a ray of sunshine which shone through the high narrow window that lighted the room.."

"..the first celebrated picture which he painted at Barbizon [in 1850], was 'The Sower'. Long ago, in the days of his youth at Greville, he had sketched the figure of a peasant scattering grain in the furrows as he walks along. That little pen-and-ink drawing, in its few strokes, contains the germ of the future work. The pose and movement of the figure, the measured step, and outstretched arm are there already; the rusty felt hat sunk over the young labourer's brows, the very shape and cut of his clothes, the sack of grain at his side, even the oxen ploughing in the background, are all indicated. From this slight sketch the artist, after his wont, slowly and painfully evolved his noble work. He has left us several drawings which enable us, step by step, to follow the development of his idea through its successive stages."

"For Millet, the man of the soil represents the whole human family; the laborer gave him the clearest type of our toil and our suffering. The peasant is to him a living being who formulates, more strongly and clearly than any other man, the image, the symbolical figure of humanity. Millet, however, is neither a discouraged nor a sad man. He is a laborer who loves his field-plows, sows, and reaps it. His field is art. His inspiration is life, is nature - which he loved with all his strength."

"[Millet,] an entirely original painter, high-minded and genuinely rustic in nature, who has expressed things about the country and its inhabitants, about their toil, their melancholy, and the nobleness of their labour. He has represented them in a somewhat barbaric fashion, in a manner to which his ideas gave a more expressive force than his hand possessed. The world has been grateful for his intentions; it has recognised in his methods something of the sensibility of a Burns who was a little awkward in expression.. .He stands out as a deep thinker."

"..I fear that in a few years there may be a kind of 'panic', in this form: 'since Millet' we have sunk very low — the word decadence, now whispered or pronounced in veiled terms (see Herkomer), will then sound like an alarm bell. Many, like I myself, now keep quiet, because they already have the reputation of being awkward customers, and talking about it doesn't help. That — namely, talking — isn't what one needs to do — one must work, though with sorrow in the heart. Those who later cry out the loudest about decadence will themselves belong to it the most. I repeat: 'by this shall ye know them', [from: Matt. 7:16.] by their work, and it won't be the most eloquent who say the truest things. See Millet himself, see Herkomer, they're certainly not orators, and speak almost reluctantly."

"In the morning we saw that the sea was rough, and people said there would be trouble.. ..Fifty men volunteered to go at once, and followed the old sailor without a word. We descended the cliffs to the beach, and there we saw a terrible sight : several vessels rushing, one after the other, at fearful speed, upon our rocks. Our men put three boats out to sea, but before they had rowed ten strokes one boat sank, another was upset by a huge breaker, while a third was thrown upon the beach.. ..The sea threw up hundreds of corpses, as well as quantities of cargo.. .Then came a fourth, fifth and sixth vessel, all of which were lost with their crew and cargo alike, upon the rocks. The tempest was furious.. .The next morning.. ..As I was passing by a hollow in the cliff, I saw a large sail spread, as I thought, over a bale of merchandise. I lifted the sail and saw a heap of corpses. I was so frightened that I ran home, and found my mother and grandmother on their knees, praying for the shipwrecked sailors."

"He [= Theodore Rousseau ] does not carry us away, as Francois Millet, toward the sorrowing epochs of rustic life, to reveal their savage grandeur or gloomy solemnity.."

"You [Millet, in his letter, from Paris] say you are painting a portrait of St. Jerome ['St. Jerome Tempted by Women',, groaning under the temptations which besieged his youth. Ah, dear child, like him reflect and gain the same holy profit. Follow the example of a man of your own profession, and say 'I paint for eternity'. For no reason in the world allow yourself to do wrong. Do not fall in the eyes of God. With St. Jerome, think ever of the trumpet which will call us to the Judgment Seat.. .Let us soon hear from you. We are very anxious to know how you are getting on. We hope well, and embrace you with sincere friendship - Thy grandmother, Louise Jumelin."

"'Every subject is good', he [Millet] said. 'All we have to do is to render it with force and clearness. In art we should have one leading thought, and see that we express it in eloquent language, that we keep it alive in ourselves, and impart it to others as clearly as we stamp a medal. Art is not a pleasure-trip; it is a battle, a mill that grinds. I am no philosopher. I do not pretend to do away with pain, or to find a formula which will make me a Stoic, and indifferent to evil. Suffering is, perhaps, the one thing that gives an artist power to express himself clearly. He spoke in this manner for some time and then stopped, as if afraid of his own words. But we parted, feeling that we understood each other, and had laid the foundations of a lasting friendship."

"At last, here is a new man [Millet], who has the knowledge which I would like to have, and movement, color, expression, too, - here is a painter!"

"When the Exhibition [Salon of the Louvre in Paris, 1840 - his work was rejected] closed he went back to see his Normandy, with the desire to stay and try to get a living at Cherbourg, and be near his family. It was not the first time that he returned. Almost every year he went to breathe his native air and stay some weeks in Gruchy [near the coast of Normandy, with his mother and grandmother, who already thought him a wonder, as the Cherbourg papers had spoken of him. In 1838 and 1840 he made several portraits of his family and friends —his mother and grandmother, who were living with one of his brothers. He made two portraits of his grandmother, one a drawing, life size, characterized by a strong expression of austerity. Millet worked on it with great care, as a labor of love. He wanted, he said, to 'show the soul' of his grandmother."

"Patience ! They will come to it gradually ! Rousseau has sold a landscape for five hundred francs; for my part, I have sold a view of Fontainebleau for seventy-five francs. And I am commissioned to ask you for companion sketches to your drawings. And this time, instead of twenty francs, they are to pay you twenty-five! (Millet replied resignedly: 'If I could only sell two drawings a week at that price all would go right!'"

"Like every other Parisian, Millet was armed with a gun during the Revolution [of 1848], and had to take his place in the defense of the Assembly and the taking of the barricades of the Rochechouart quarter, where he saw the chief of the insurgents fall. He came back angry and indignant at the slaughters of Paris. He had no military spirit, nor the rage of revolt, and all he saw made his heart bleed. We [Alfred Sensier and Millet] used to go together of an evening to the plain of Montmartre or St. Ouen. The next day I would find [in Millet's studio] impressions of the day before, which he had painted in a few hours. His facility was extraordinary, and he never omitted the telling note or charm of color."

"Three of his [Millet's] canvases, especially, represented [at the exhibition 'Cent Chefs-d'Oeuvres: the Choiche of the French Private Galleries', 1883] the whole career of the artist; three absolute masterpieces, the 'Gleaners',, the 'Sheepfold by Moonlight',, the 'Man Hoeing' [Man with a Hoe, ]; all three give birth to the same surprise. It is that the figures, in their small dimensions, assume under the eye that contemplates them the scale of nature. This mirage is explained by the grandeur of this art springing from nature itself and drawing you to nature with all her force. The eye sees the thing in the dimensions which it actually has; and it is thus that it stamps itself on the memory. A great artist is able to reduce proportions without belittling the majesty of things."

"The great Millet indignantly protests ['Le Figaro' has just published two letters of Millet] against the Commune [and the communards] , whom he characterizes as barbarians and vandals; he concludes with a dig at good Courbet, who, as I see it, can only be aggrandized by this attempt at belittlement. Because of his painting 'The Man with the Hoe', the socialists thought Millet was on their side.. .Not at all. More and more indignant disavowals from the great painter! What do you think of that? I was not much surprised. He was just a bit too biblical."

"I have the honour to beg you to examine three drawings which I have placed in your Council Hall [of Cherbourg]. Those drawings are the unassisted work of my pupil, Francois Millet, of the Commune of Greville, and are the best proof of his decided taste for art, and rare talent.. ..It was at your recommendation that he was placed under my charge. During the last six months his progress has been constant and rapid.. ..In short, he requires the advantages of Paris, if he is to learn historical painting.. ..But, alas! young Millet has no resources,. ..Young Millet would require a sum of at least five or six hundred francs to begin his studies at Paris. - Your devoted servant, Langlois"

"My poor Francois, I see well that thou tormentest thyself with this idea. I would gladly have sent thee to learn this profession of a painter, but I could not, for thou art the eldest of my boys, and I had too much need of thee; but now the others are growing up, and I will not hinder thee from learning what thou has so much desire to know. We will soon go to Cherbourg and find out whether you have talent enough to earn your living by this business."

"The schooling of [the young] Millet, begun by the good vicar Jean Lebrisseux.. ..He was soon obliged to be a serious help to his father, and to devote all his time to the rough farm-work. He was the eldest of the sons, and in this lay a duty which Francois accepted without regret. He began to work beside his father and the 'hands', to mow, make hay, bind the sheaves, thresh, winnow, spread manure, plow, sow, - in a word, all the work which makes the daily life of the peasant. So he spent years...[ till Millet was c. 18 years old]"

"For the first [his very first time in Paris], I went to a little hotel, where I spent the night in a sort of nightmare, in which I saw my home, full of melancholy, with my mother, grandmother, and sister spinning in the evening, weeping and thinking of me, praying that I should escape the perdition of Paris. Then the evil demon drove me on before wonderful pictures, which seemed so beautiful, so brilliant, that it appeared to me they took fire and vanished in a heavenly cloud.. .Finally, without knowing how, I found myself [during one of his his first days in Paris] on the Pont Neuf, from which I saw a magnificent building which I thought must be the Louvre, from the descriptions I had heard of it. I went to it, and mounted the great stairway with a beating heart. At last one great object of my life was attained. I had imagined correctly what I should see. It seemed to me that I was in a world of friends [the paintings of the old masters], in a family where all that I beheld was the reality of my dreams."

"I came to Paris with all my ideas of art fixed, and I have never found it necessary to change them. I have been more or less in love with this master, or that method in art, but I have not modified any fundamental opinions. You have seen my first drawing, made at home without a master, without a model, without a guide. I have never done anything different since. You have never seen me paint except in a low tone; demi-teinte [half-tone] is necessary to me in order to sharpen my eyes and clear my thoughts, - it has been my best teacher."

"One day, however, I spent the whole day in front of the 'Concert Champetre' of Giorgione [in the Louvre museum, during his early Paris' years. I could not weary of it. It was already three o'clock when, mechanically, I took a little canvas belonging to a friend, and began a sketch of the picture. Four o'clock sounded, and the dreadful 'ferme' [closing-time] of the guardians turned me out: but I had made enough of a sketch to give me pleasure, like a run into the country. Giorgione had opened the country to me. I had found consolation with him."

"Eh! Are you coming here to give us some more of your fine figures ? Are you going to make men and women on your own plan? You know the master [ [[w:Paul Delaroche|Delaroche] ]] doesn't like this Caen cookery. - ('What do I care?' answered Millet, according to Sensier's report, 'I don't come here to please anybody. I come because there are antiques and models to teach me, that is all. Do I object to your figures, made of butter and honey'?)"

"M. Millet's 'Reapers' are certainly not handsome; he has not copied them from the Belvedere Apollo. Their noses are flat, their lips thick, their cheek-bones prominent, their clothes coarse and ragged. But in all this we see a secret force, a singular vigour, a rare knowledge of line and action, an intelligent sacrifice of detail, a simplicity of colour which give these rustics a proud and imposing air, and at times recall the statues of Michelangelo. In spite of their poverty and ugliness, they have the majesty of toilers who are in direct contact with Nature."

"To tell the truth, peasant subjects suit my nature best, for I must confess, at the risk of your taking me to be a Socialist, that the human side is what touches me most in art.. .The joyous side never shows itself to me ; I know not if it exists, but I have never seen it. The gayest thing I know is the calm, the silence, which are so delicious, both in the forest and in the cultivated fields, whether the soil is good for culture or not. You will confess that it always gives you a very dreamy sensation, and that the dream is a sad one, although often very delicious."

"My dear Sensier, - I shall be greatly obliged if after reading and sealing the enclosed letter, you will take it to Rue du Delta, No. 8. [Paris].. ..Jaque [common friend and painter] and I have settled to stay here [ Barbizon ] for some time, and have accordingly each of us taken rooms. The prices are excessively low compared to those in Paris; and as it is easy to get to town if necessary, and the country is superbly beautiful, we hope to work more quietly here, and perhaps do better things. In fact, we intend to spend some time here.. .I wish you good-bye, with many hearty embraces. Jacque sends you warm remembrances, and will answer your letter tomorrow."

"I work like a gang of slaves; the day seems five months long. My wish to make a winter landscape has become a fixed idea. I want to do a sheep picture and have all sorts of projects in my head. If you could see how beautiful the forest is! I rush there at the end of the day, after my work, and I come back every time crushed. It is so calm, such a terrible grandeur, that I find myself really frightened. I don't know what those fellows, the trees, are saying to each other.. ..we don't know their language, that is all; but I am quite sure of this - they do not make puns!.. ..Send [me] 3 burnt sienna, 2 raw ditto, 3 Naples's yellow, 1 burnt Italian earth, 2 yellow ocher, 2 burnt umber, 1 bottle of raw oil."

"He [Alfred de Musset] puts you into a fever, it is true; but he can do nothing more for you. He has undoubted charms, but his taste is capricious and poisoned. All he can do is to disenchant and corrupt you, and at the end leave you in despair. The fever passes, and you are left without strength - like a convalescent who is in need of fresh air, of the sunshine, and of the stars."

"What do I care? 'I don't come here [studying with the Paris' artist & teacher Paul Delaroche to please anybody. I come because there are antiques and models to teach me, that is all. Do I object to your figures, made of butter and honey [to Alfred Boisseau?"

"Sir, I have completed the picture ['Les Faneurs / Haymakers', 1849] which you were kind enough to order, and have executed it with all possible care and conscientiousness. I ought to send it to the Exhibition, where it could be properly seen and judged. I pray you to be good enough to pay me the balance of 1,100 francs which is still due on this commission. My great need of money obliges me to ask you to let me have it as soon as possible. Accept, sir, the assurance of my pro- found respect - J. F. Millet. 8, Rue du Delta [Paris]"

"[[w:Théophile Gautier|[Theophile] Gautier's]] article is very good. I begin to feel a little more contented. His remarks about my thick colours are also very just. The critics who see and judge my pictures are not forced to know that in painting them I am not guided by a definite intention, although I do my utmost to try and attain the aim which I have in sight, independently of methods. People are not even obliged to know why it is that I work in this way, with all its faults."

"Your description of Troyon and Rousseau, for instance, is lively enough to give me some idea of which of their manners they are done in. There were other paintings from the time of Troyon's municipal pasture that had a certain 'mood' that one would have to call 'dramatic', even though they aren't figure paintings."

"Did not Troyon tell me to enter the studio of Couture [in Paris]? It is needless to tell you how decided was my refusal to do so [End of 1859]. I admit even that it cooled me, temporarily at least, in my esteem and admiration of Troyon.. ..and [I] after all, connected myself only with artists who were seeking."

"The first years of the painter [Troyon] were dogged by poverty, which saturated his spirit with a bitterness from which it never got free. Arrived later, by the evolution of his style, to renown and wealth, Troyon preserved the gloom of these humble beginnings. In this he was at fault. Did he not share the public neglect with the first landscape painters of the age? Had he suffered more, and more unjustly, than the chiefs of his company [the painters of Barbizon]? And then, if I must express my full opinion, would the canvases of Troyon, as a landscapist grandly brushed as they are, have sufficed to establish his high renown?"

"He [Troyon] does not sentimentalize his animals, nor concern himself with the drama of their character and gesture. He takes them as components in a general scheme; and he paints them as he has seen them in Nature - enveloped in atmosphere and light, and in an environment of grass and streams and living leafage."

"Among Troyon's paintings there are two huge ones; 'Return to the Farm' is marvelous with its beautiful stormy sky. There is much windy motion in the clouds, and the cows and dogs are very good. In Going to the Market you see the mist at sunrise. It's superb and, most of all, very luminous. The wide space in View from Surennes is amazing. You feel you are really in the countryside."