58 floors above Paris, from 'Tour Montparnasse', in the heart of the district

Montparnasse- Walking pensively along Avenue du Maine recently, I imagine young Picasso, Braque, Brancusi, Modigliani, Soutine or Chagall tracing the very same path to the studio of fellow artist, Marie Vassiliev, who regularly offered plentiful lunches for only one franc, filling their bellies for the day. Afterwards, they returned to their modest nearby studios, as if entering portals into another dimension. There they would labor in their own universes, each in a solitary search for the line, color, shape and material that would express their creative vision.

Like many immigrants, artists and intellectuals at the beginning of the last century, they gravitated to the center of artistic and political freedom—Paris, France—the most progressive city in what was then, perhaps, the only republic in Europe. Paris was their light. Like a single, short spark in the continuum of human history, this group of artists formed the brilliant cluster of stars that blazed the transition from traditionalism to modernism in art. The fruits of their toil now reside in great museums and are coveted by the most prestigious art markets and collectors in this earthly world.

Montparnasse, in the 14th arrondissement of Paris

Émile-Antoine Bourdelle, self portrait, circ. 1885

In the midst o f this vibrant artistic ferment was sculptor, Emile-Antoine Bourdelle. Although half a generation older than the others, he was, nevertheless, a part of the modernist trend. His studio, refurbished and expanded into a museum over the years to house his body of work, was my destination, as I crossed the avenue toward the small street bearing his name.

Bourdelle lived in a transformational period. His artistic sensibilities straddled those of the 19th and 20th centuries, the nascent pull of the modernistic force toward the surreal, abstract and expressionism that tore away at the seams of traditional notions of representational form and figure, color and narrative.

Spending my afternoon immersed in his work: bronzes in the sculpture garden, oversized plaster molds of his monuments installed in the museum’s grand hall; assiduous drawings and sketches made in preparation for each work, I couldn’t help but feel that Bourdelle was a sculptor with a grand vision. His compositions seemed to be propelled by an enormous sense of heroism derived from mythology and history, boldly expressed in vivid and emotional textures and fused with architectural forms that betrayed his deep romanticism, but voiced in an incipient modern sculptural language.

Bourdelle's, Herakles the Archer (1909), in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

His famous, “Herakles the Archer” (1909), is one such example, the gold-leafed version now at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. It captures Herakles, the hero, at the moment he is poised with bow and arrow to kill the Stymphalian Birds of Arcadia, thus fulfilling the sixth of his prescribed labors. The influence of the Archaic Greek kouros is evident in the smaller head, high cheek-bones, large muscular torso and limbs, and thin waist. But, unlike the archaic, this kouros is not stiff or static, but rather energetic–eyes focused, lips pursed in concentration just before releasing the deadly arrow, his figure taut with dynamic muscular tension. The tilt of the body— right knee on the ground, left leg spreading at an angle and left foot pressing against a boulder—is a canted triangle, the top of the bow an apex accentuating the tension.

Bourdelle's Dying Centaur (1914), bronze

Another magnificent example, “Dying Centaur” (1914), stands in the rotunda of the museum’s grand hall. His neck is stretched, bending the head to his left shoulder, enclosing the figure in a rectangular whole when viewed from the side. It is a solid, somber and melancholic work—the wise centaur with his lyre, signifying a dying artist whose followers no longer believe in him. Perhaps it symbolized Bourdelle’s premonition of the end of an era, as the escalating tenor of pernicious conflict and foreboding winds of destruction that would be, The Great War, had begun to stir in Europe.

Bourdelle had come to Paris from the southern city of Montauban to pursue sculpting in 1884, at the age of 23. He had learned woodcarving by helping his father, a cabinet-maker, who alienated customers as a sympathizer of the Paris Commune. Recognizing young Bourdelle’s talent, Montauban’s bourgeoisie supported his art studies in Toulouse. He was later accepted into the prestigious L’Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris, which he left after only a few months, seeking greater artistic freedom and devoting himself to sculpting, once his works were finally being shown.

In 1885, Bourdelle rented a small studio, on what was then 16 Impasse du Maine and, after achieving some success, moved his parents to his home. He never left. A modest man, he lived with his devoted second wife, Cleopatre Sevastos, a former pupil born of Greek nobility, and their daughter, Rhodia.

Bourdelle's La France strikes a heroic pose in front of the Musee d'Art Moderne

Bourdelle worked as an assistant to August Rodin for 15 years, before ultimately establishing himself as an acclaimed sculptor. He wrote poetry and books and taught at the nearby Academie de la Grande-Chaumiere, an art school then newly-established to nurture artistic freedom. He also taught a young Alberto Giacometti, who worked at his studio for seven years, as did Henri Matisse for a couple of years, at the suggestion of Rodin.

As his fame grew, commissions followed, including the monumental “La France” (1925) at the Musee d’Art Moderne across the Seine from the Eiffel Tower: a majestic female figure, right hand holding a lengthy spear reaching for the sky, left hand perpendicular to the spear, shielding her eyes as she pans the horizon, recalling the Americans’ auspicious entry into the war in 1917. He also created bas-reliefs for the Theatre des Champs Elysee: female figures whose poses were inspired by dance movements of the legendary, Isadora Duncan. Additionally, the museum collection includes many sketches and drawings of dancers whom the artist greatly admired.

Bourdelle died in 1929 and Cleopatre, Rhodia and her husband, Michel Dufet, realized his ambitious vision and created a museum for his works and writings.

About ten years later, at the onset of World War II, most of the artists of Montparnasse had either died or left Paris, escaping the Nazi occupation, never to return. This district of Paris exists today as a symbol of romance and creativity and Musee Bourdelle stands as enduring evidence, echoing this artist’s heroic vision.

Author’s Note: In keeping with Bourdelle’s embrace of modernism, the new wing of Musee Bourdelle is dedicated to exhibiting works of contemporary artists.

by Linda Y. Peng, Contributing Writer

To learn more about kouros, go to: www.ancient-greece.org/art/kouros.html

Le Viaduc de Arts, Paris, France

When in Paris last, I visited Le Viaduc des Art. My good friend, Amy, born in Paris some 89 years ago, had taken me there once, but I welcomed another opportunity to discover and explore some of its certain surprises. It is, ironically, one of the more hidden, yet quite public treasures of Paris, located at the southeast end the city, in the 12th Arrondissement. Le Viaduc is only a few blocks from the Bastille Opera House (built over the demolished Bastille prison, where the historic ‘storming’ set off the French Revolution). Nearby, Rue de Lyon leads to Avenue Daumesnil, where the viaduct begins, hugging the tree-lined avenue all the way east to Bois de Vincennes.

Le Viaduc is a 19th century structure, originally used as an elevated rail line. Its path is supported by a series of supporting arches and the city has cleverly converted it into a long green walkway– ‘la coulee verte’.  The promenade on top is planted with a profusion of plants, trees and luscious flowers–becoming a kilometer-long strip of verdant park ideal for long leisurely strolls. And underneath, the high vaulted spaces of the viaduct are now home to dozens of active studios, workshops, galleries displaying the work of artists and artisans and chic cafes. Le Viaduc itself and its series of arches, framed by sand-colored stone and dark red brick, take on the appearance of an elongated Romanesque-style structure.

Atop Le Viaduc in the heart of Paris- A One-Kilometer walkway, 'la coulee verte'

As we walked along the Viaduc, Amy, a survivor of the Nazi occupation of Paris during World War II, reminisced. “Those were hard and frightful years. There wasn’t much food. We played cat and mouse with the Gestapo”, she said. “My family moved from Rue Vivienne to this neighborhood. I actually took the trains on the viaduct when I was a young girl. It’s wonderful to see something so utilitarian be transformed into something so aesthetically pleasing.”

At 23, Avenue Daumesnil, under one of the arches, a sign caught our attention: “Societe d’Encouragement aux Métiers d’Art” (Society to Encourage Professions of the Arts ) or SEMA. We entered through the large elegant glass doors and met the Societe’s stylish director, Marie-Francoise Brule, who shared a wealth of information with us. Funded by a French ministry, SEMA was established to encourage and support artists and artisans and the pursuit of their careers. It is so very French, and so sensible—for the government to view artists and artisans as professionals, deserving of respect and nurturance.

And why not a stimulus package for artists and artisans? In these hard economic times, as galleries close and participation in art fairs dwindles, the French government actively assists its creative community by affording them exposure and assistance in the marketing and sale of their work. Through SEMA, the ministry extends a helping hand and an avenue for young people pursuing a career in the arts and crafts—lives devoted to interpreting and creating beauty with one’s very own hands!

SEMA is housed in a multi-storied office built behind Le Viaduc. Its upper floors overlook the tranquil stretch of the lush, green promenade. Their offices grant prize money awards and offer a large space for exhibitions. The Societe also promotes events and informational forums for art professional from around the world.  Its library offers extensive archival and current information, including films (such as clips of Renoir painting), historical documents, and the names of at least 2500 art professionals, referenced and organized by region of the country, artistic specialty and materials of expertise.  SEMA’s annual magazine, “Metiers d’Art,” publishes and highlights artists and artisans with their contact information, providing networking tools within—and beyond—the arts community.

 Upon reflection, there is something more going on here than meets the eye;  something the French know and do quite well—and that is the preservation of cultural patrimony and a segment of civilization for posterity.  It seems the French truly understand that artistic mastery is a life-long endeavor, to be nourished and passed down from one generation to the next.  Oh, and by the way, history has also shown that the French tradition of supporting and cultivating their own artistic heritage is, in the long run, actually quite profitable!

 Crossing Avenue Daumesnil to embark on the next stop of my art travels, I cast one glance back at Le Viaduc des Art, knowing that someday I would return.

 by Linda Y. Peng, Editor-at-Large

‘The Artful Traveler’

for ARTES Magazine

 Le Viaduc des Arts, Avenue Daumesnil, 75012 Paris

http://www.viaducdesarts.fr

 La SEMA, 23 Avenue Daumesnil, 75012 Paris

info@eurosema.com

www.metiersdart-artisanat.com

 To visit New York City’s very own ‘green’ version of a converted, elevated rail line, go to:

www.thehighline.org

Gustave Caillebotte, patron, painter, 'The Unknown Impressionist', 1848-94

When Impressionism is mentioned, Monet, Renoir, Degas come to mind, but less frequently among the names is that of Gustave Caillebotte (French 1848–1894). Yet, he was very much their equal and a skilled and prolific painter. Wealthy, he had no need to sell his art. He supported his friends by buying their art, financing the Impressionist shows –considered radical in his day– and in the case of Monet, frequently paying his rent. Moreover, Caillebotte was a lawyer; a philatelist whose stamp collection is in the British Museum; a town councilman; a nautical engineer and famed yachtsman. Rarely seen together, the Brooklyn Museum re-acquaints us with Caillebotte’s work after a 30-year absence from its galleries. An intellectual and a modern man, with the means to support his focused passions, he bequeathed his substantial collection to his country—presciently saving much of Impressionist art for France.

Caillebotte, Man on the Balcony 2, 1880

Caillebotte was born eldest of three sons of a twice-widowed father and his third wife, into the grand bourgeoisie, whose family fortune stemmed from cloth supplied to the French military. He began drawing and painting at age twelve, served in the National Guard and was released in 1871, right before the Franco-Prussian War and the Paris Commune ended. He turned to art, passing the exam for L’Ecole des Beaux Art in 1873. He soon became a member of a fringe art circle, the works of which were textured, loose and colorful in style, earning them the critically derisive term, Impressionism.

Caillebotte, The Oarsmen, 1877

The Brooklyn Museum has assembled a number of his works for the exhibit, drawn from private and museum collections in Europe and the U.S. Technically brilliant works like, “Floor Scrapers” and “House Painters” were rejected by tradition-bound venues of the day as “vulgar” and “too working class.” His renderings of Paris street scenes, the moods of the rivers, rowing shells and the muscular men who powered them, all done en plein air, reveal his mastery of light and the human form. His clever use of the perspective in his compositions, such as placing the Parisian streets at an angle while coming directly towards the viewer in works like “The Pont de l’Europe ” and “Man on the Balcony” ( left), creates a sense of immediacy and intimacy—as if we are standing there on the bridge or at the balcony overlooking the boulevard in 19th Century Paris—sharing the drama to the moment in the scene. Likewise, in the “Oarsmen Rowing on the Yerres” (above), Caillebotte’s perspective puts us there in the same boat, sitting on our side of canvas, being transported by the oarsmen and basking in the same sun whose light rests on their out-stretched muscular arms.

Despite his other ardent pursuits, Caillebotte continued to paint, even after the Impressionists dispersed and up to his sudden death at 45. The “Unknown Impressionist” has secured a place in the pantheon of great painters of his day.

(At the Brooklyn Museum, through July 5, 2009)

by Linda Y. Peng, Contributing Writer- The Artful Traveler

For more about Gustave Caillebotte and to see more of his work go to: http://www.gustavcaillebotte.org

Visit the Brooklyn Museum at: http://www.brooklynmuseum.org

200 Eastern Parkway, Brooklyn, NY 11238 (718) 638-5000

Learn about the Paris Commune and why it mattered to the Impressionists at:

Google Search – “Paris Commune and Impressionism”

http://app.cul.columbia.edu:8080/ac/handle/10022/AC:P:2216

http://www.albertboime.com/ReviewsPubPDF/49.pdf