DOI issue:
No. 41 (August, 1896)
DOI article:Keyzer, Frances: Eugène Carrière
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17297#0154
Eugene Carriere
stood in Carriere's works, tell a story of inex- As a work of art this portrait of Daudet will live,
pressible sadness. One long thin hand hangs As a drama it grows in intensity as we analyse the
down listlessly, tired and nerveless, the other rests great truths Carriere depicts in such strong, con-
upon the head of the child, and is not only the trasting lines, and we seize the strength, the pre-
hand of a man worn with suffering, but of a father cision of the drawing, beneath the atmosphere in
who almost unconsciously looks into the future and which he envelopes his figures, while taking in
presses the small fingers beneath his as with a their melancholy philosophy.
Carriere draws like a
sculptor. He gives height,
width, and depth to his
forms, and, after the pre-
cepts of the Old Masters,
paints the interior of the
form. He gives not only
the solid shape, but the
expression, and gradually
does away with that which
is not absolutely essential;
he accentuates certain
features and fixes the at-
tention there where he
deems it important—
methods whose results
are most apparent in his
portraits of M. Jean
Dolent and M. Gabriel
Seailles.
One of the most impor-
tant of his works, now in
possession of M. Galli-
mard, is the famous
Theatre de Belleville, that
wonderful study of human
nature that was exhibited
last year at the Salon at
the Champ de Mars, and
created such a sensation
in the world of art and
letters. The public, the
first few days, kept aloof;
they were as those who
had eyes and saw not, but
gradually the magnetic in-
a study bv e- carriere flUence of the artist's sin-
cerity affected them as
parting caress. The tragic beauty of the author's they passed before the grey canvas, and they
head is the expression of a Christ, the pale emaciated stopped unconsciously and fed upon the great
face appearing even whiter next the brown beard ; thoughts that were so grandly and simply expressed,
the hair faintly tinged with grey, the beautiful Until near the closing of the exhibition there were
bended head too weighty for the neck, the eyes for nothing but the Theatre, and everybody
shoulders, the arms, all tell their sad tale in lan- seemed to have caught the reflection of a spark of
guage so clear as to have been too painfully true the artist's genius. I recall it now. It is a view
for the author's family, at whose request a second of the interior of an " East End " theatre, a study of
likeness was painted less sad, but also less true. the people in the gallery. The stage is hidden
133
stood in Carriere's works, tell a story of inex- As a work of art this portrait of Daudet will live,
pressible sadness. One long thin hand hangs As a drama it grows in intensity as we analyse the
down listlessly, tired and nerveless, the other rests great truths Carriere depicts in such strong, con-
upon the head of the child, and is not only the trasting lines, and we seize the strength, the pre-
hand of a man worn with suffering, but of a father cision of the drawing, beneath the atmosphere in
who almost unconsciously looks into the future and which he envelopes his figures, while taking in
presses the small fingers beneath his as with a their melancholy philosophy.
Carriere draws like a
sculptor. He gives height,
width, and depth to his
forms, and, after the pre-
cepts of the Old Masters,
paints the interior of the
form. He gives not only
the solid shape, but the
expression, and gradually
does away with that which
is not absolutely essential;
he accentuates certain
features and fixes the at-
tention there where he
deems it important—
methods whose results
are most apparent in his
portraits of M. Jean
Dolent and M. Gabriel
Seailles.
One of the most impor-
tant of his works, now in
possession of M. Galli-
mard, is the famous
Theatre de Belleville, that
wonderful study of human
nature that was exhibited
last year at the Salon at
the Champ de Mars, and
created such a sensation
in the world of art and
letters. The public, the
first few days, kept aloof;
they were as those who
had eyes and saw not, but
gradually the magnetic in-
a study bv e- carriere flUence of the artist's sin-
cerity affected them as
parting caress. The tragic beauty of the author's they passed before the grey canvas, and they
head is the expression of a Christ, the pale emaciated stopped unconsciously and fed upon the great
face appearing even whiter next the brown beard ; thoughts that were so grandly and simply expressed,
the hair faintly tinged with grey, the beautiful Until near the closing of the exhibition there were
bended head too weighty for the neck, the eyes for nothing but the Theatre, and everybody
shoulders, the arms, all tell their sad tale in lan- seemed to have caught the reflection of a spark of
guage so clear as to have been too painfully true the artist's genius. I recall it now. It is a view
for the author's family, at whose request a second of the interior of an " East End " theatre, a study of
likeness was painted less sad, but also less true. the people in the gallery. The stage is hidden
133