COURSE DE TAUREAUX
l'hot. Üurnml-Ruel.
LE FIFRE (Musée du Louvre.)
tableau. Couture se rendit rue Lavoisier et après avoir regardé le Buveur, dit à Manet :
« Mon ami, il n’y a ici qu’un buveur d'absinthe, c’est le peintre qui a produit cette insanité. »
Ce fut la dernière fois que les deux hommes se virent. Manet se sentait comme soulagé. Cette grossière réflexion, au lieu de l'irriter, l'avait mis en gaieté.
« Eh bien, soit, me dit-il, j’ai eu la stupidité de lui faire quelques concessions. J'ai préparé sottement mes dessous selon sa formule. C'est fini. Il a bien fait de me parler ainsi. Cela me campe sur mes pattes. »
L e, Buveur d'absinthe, présenté au salon de 1839, fut refusé. Nous étions assis chez lui avec Baudelaire quand l’avis du refus lui parvint.
« 11 y a trois jours, s’écria-t-il, que je sais cela : je ne vous ai rien dit. Ah! il m’a fait refuser. Ce qu’il a dù en dire devant les bonzes de son acabit. Mais ce qui me console, c’est que Delacroix l'a trouvé bien. Car, on me l a affirmé, Delacroix l a trouvé bien. C'est un autre rapin que Couture, Delacroix. Je n'aime pas son métier, mais c’est un monsieur qui sait ce qu’il veut et qui le fait comprendre. C’est quelque chose cela. »
Je cherchai à calmer Manet.
« 11 faut être juste, lui fis-je observer. Cou-
ture n’a pas fait refuser ton tableau par la raison qu’il n’était pas du jury qui l’a jugé. Quant à Delacroix, il a montré une fois de plus qu’il est au-dessus des petitesses de ses contemporains. Delacroix — je te l’ai toujours dit — n’a pas de ces haines sottes qu’on lui prête. Il n’est pas vrai qu’il déteste M. Ingres et conteste Courbet. Que M. Ingres soit exclusif, on peut le lui pardonner : il est même comique de voir ce moderne crier contre les modernes. Et si Courbet a eu devant les anges de Delacroix cette boutade qui a si fort troublé le peintre du Massacre de Scio , en disant avec son accent de campagnard franc-comtois « qu'il n’avait jamais vu des hommes avec des ailes », nous savons à quoi nous en tenir sur la bonhomie de ce maître peintre qui a fait des chefsd'œuvre, mais qui a toujours eu le tort, comme tu le disais toi-même, de travailler dans le noir. Delacroix a fait preuve d’esprit, de bon sens et de clairvoyance, en te jugeant comme il l’a fait. Puis, au fond, c’est un modeste. Te rappelles-tu ce que nous contait le père Barye de Delacroix travaillant avec lui au Jardin des Plantes d’après une panthère? « Comment faites-vous, Barye? La queue de votre panthère remue. La mienne est comme un morceau de bois. » Et Barye de répondre : « C’est que je la fais telle que je la vois, tandis que vous la faites telle que vous
iS
l'aviez prévue. » Delacroix reconnut que Barye disait vrai. Ingres et Courbet auraient pu se tromper; ils n'auraient jamais confessé leur erreur avec autant de loyauté. Je me suis d ailleurs toujours demandé pourquoi tu t'acharnes à vouloir plaire à Couture. Vous vous êtes constamment détestés, et en réalité tu n’as jamais été son élève pas plus qu’il n’a été l’élève de Gros.
— Ce que tu dis là est vrai, car il est curieux que Couture ait travaillé chez Gros et que ce soit Delacroix, lequel n’a jamais mis les pieds dans l’atelier de Gros, qui procède de lui.
— Tout comme Géricault qui, risquant un facile calembour, disait dédaigneusement au Panthéon devant les chevaux de Gros : « C’est bien, mais c’est plus gros que nature. » Et Dieu sait s’il a pioché Gros, celui-là !
— La conclusion, fit Baudelaire, c’est qu'il faut être soi-mème.
— Je vous l'ai toujours dit, mon cher Baudelaire, répliqua Manet. Mais est-ce que je n'ai pas été moi-meme dans le Buveur d'absinthe?
— Euh! Euh ! reprit Baudelaire.
— Allons, voilà Baudelaire qui va me débiner. Tout le monde alors... »
Manet laissa son atelier de la rue Lavoisier pour aller s’installer au n° 58 de la rue de la Victoire. Le comte de Balleroy s'était retiré dans le Calvados qu’il devait représenter plus tard à l'Assemblée Nationale de 1871. Quelque temps après, Manet prit un atelier dans la rue Guyot aux Batignolles. Mon intention n’est d’ailleurs pas de suivre un ordre strictement chronologique.
Je viens de parler des voyages de Manet. Il alla voir les Rubens d’Anvers, les Rembrandt d’Amsterdam, les primitifs de Bruxelles, les Hais de Harlem, les Albert Dürer de Dresde, les Holbein de Bàle. En Italie, il se montra très épris des Titien, des Tintoret, peu séduit par les Raphaël et les Michel-Ange. Mais son idée fixe était de voir l’Espagne. La Course de taureaux d’Alfred Dehodencq exposée au Salon de 1 85 1 et placée au Luxembourg l’avait enthousiasmé. Il alla donc en Espagne. C’est là qu’il fit la connaissance de Théodore Duret dans un hôtel de la
ÈDOUARI) MANET
Puerta del Sol, où Manet, très difficile sur la nourriture, trouvait tout détestable et où il interpella Duret qui s'accommodait du puchero en homme affamé.
« Ali! s’écriait-il un jour, quels bonshommes que Velasquez, le Greco, Valdès Leal, Herrero le Vieux. Je 11e parle pas de Murillo, je ne l'aime pas, excepté dans certaines études de pouilleux. Les Zurbaran, non. Mais Ribeira et Goya, Goya dont Reynolds a dit : « C’est un peintre espagnol, mais de l école de Gibraltar. » O11 lui en fichera des peintres de cette trempe! Et quelles rues, quel peuple! Dehodencq a vu et très bien vu. Avant d’aller là, il était aveugle. Il y a des gens qui ne croient pas au miracle. Eh bien, moi, depuis Dehodencq j’y crois. »
Théodore Duret vint prendre place dans le cercle des amis de Manet, au premier rang desquels était Paul Roudier qui l accompagnait partout, aux jeudis de son père et de sa mère et aux vendredis du café Guerbois, situé à l’entrée de l’avenue de Clichy, à deux pas du Père Lathuille. Dans 1 un et l’autre endroit on ne parlait que d’art. Par un phénomène assez singulier, le père de Manet, qui avait été le premier à gourmander son fils quand il se plaignait de son maître Couture, se livrait maintenant aux sorties les plus amères contre le peintre des Romains de la Décadence.
Manet se montrait d’autant plus calme que son père était plus violent.
Aux vendredis du café Guerbois on rencontrait des hommes de lettres, des artistes. Les discussions y étaient vives. Duranty, romancier et critique, s’emportait, traitant Couture comme le dernier des imagiers. Au milieu de ce brouhaha, Manet gardait 1 impassibilité du Jupiter olympien. Pas toujours cependant. C’est ainsi qu’il eut une fois avec Duranty lui-même, à la suite d'un article que ce dernier avait publié, une discussion qui se termina par une rencontre à l’épée. L’un des témoins de Manet fut Emile Zola. Un seul engagement eut lieu, d’une violence telle que les deux épées se faussèrent. Duranty fut blessé au-dessus du sein droit, d’une blessure légère, l’épée de son adversaire ayant glissé sur une côte. « Je n’avais qu’une peur, disait Manet, c’était de lui passer pardessus la tête. J’étais tellement souple! Ce que j’ai cherché, la veille du duel, pour trouver des chaussures larges et spacieuses dans lesquelles je serais bien à mon aise, on ne peut s’en faire une idée. Enfin, j’en ai trouvé une paire au passage Jouffroy. Après le duel, je voulais les offrira Duranty, mais il les a refusées, ayant le pied plus grand que le mien. Nous nous sommes d’ailleurs toujours demandés l’un et l’autre pourquoi nous avions été assez bêtes pour vouloir nous trouer la peau. »
Les deux amis se réconcilièrent et restèrent intimement liés. Avec Baudelaire, Manet eut également des rapports très étroits. On a attribué au premier une grande influence sur le second. C’est le contraire qui est vrai. La fréquentation de la rôtisserie Pavard et du restaurant Dinoclieau, de ce Dinoclieau dont on disait qu’il partageait avec François Ier l'honneur d'ôtre le restaurateur des lettres et des arts, les conversations qu’il avait avec Manet, modifièrent sensiblement la manière de voir et de juger de Baudelaire, et si Manet et Baudelaire furent étroitement liés, c’est Manet qui garda l’influence sur son ami.
A une époque où le poète se maquillait d’une façon outrageante, « il en a une couche, s’écriait Manet, mais il y a tant de génie sous cette couche ! » Baudelaire était son compagnon habituel, quand Manet allait aux Tuilleries, faisant des études en plein air, sous les arbres, d’après les enfants qui jouaient et les groupes de nourrices qui s’affalaient sur les chaises. Les promeneurs regardaient curieusement ce peintre élégamment vêtu qui disposait sa toile, s'armait de sa palette et peignait avec autant de tranquillité que s’il avait été dans son atelier (PL 2, La musique aux Tuileries).
J'ai dit quel flâneur était Manet. Nous montions un jour ensemble ce qui a été depuis le boulevard Malesherbes, au milieu des démolitions
coupées par les ouvertures béantes des terrains déjà nivelés. Le quartier Monceau n’était pas encore dessiné. A chaque pas Manet m’arrêtait. Ici un cèdre se dressait isolé au milieu d’un jardin défoncé. L'arbre semblait chercher sous ses longs bras les massifs de fleurs détruits. « Vois-tu sa peau, me dit-il, et les tons violacés des ombres? » Plus loin, des démolisseurs se détachaient blancs sur la muraille moins blanche qui s’effrondrait sous leurs coups, les enveloppant d’un nuage de poussière. Manet demeura absorbé dans une longue admiration devant ce spectacle, ce La voilà, s'écria-t-il, la symphonie en blanc majeur dont parle Théophile Gautier. »
Une femme sortit d’un cabaret louche, relevant sa robe, retenant sa guitare. Il alla droit à elle et lui demanda de venir poser chez lui. Elle se prit à rire. « Je la repincerai, dit-il, et puis, si elle ne veut pas, j’ai Victorine. » Victorine Meurend, dont il a fait le portrait, était son modèle de prédilection. Nous montâmes à l’atelier. Sur deux chevalets étaient le Guitarero et le portrait de son père et de sa mère (PL 3).
« Je crois que c’est ça, hein? Hier, Renaud de Vilbac est venu. Il n’a vu qu’une chose, c’est que mon Guitarero joue de la main gauche une guitare accordée pour être jouée de la main droite. Qu’en dis-tu? Figure-toi que la tête, je l’ai peinte du
forms us that the “Adoration of the Magi” was ctchcd after the lost painting which the artist made for the Couvent of Aranjucz, and was consequently made in Spain. Accord ingly ail the critics hâve assumed that the “Capricci” and the “Scherzi” were also made while Tiepolo was in that country — not knowing that as early as in 1749 Count Antonio- Maria Zanetti, a famous dilettante, had published a “Collection of Yarious Engravings from the Drawings of Parmigianino and other painters” among which were the ten plates of the “Capricci.”
The “Capricci” were published by Giovanni Domenico in 1785, i. e.} fifteen years after the artist’s death, and dedicated to the illustrions Signor Girolamo Manfrin.
A. de Vesme knows of only one state of the “Capricci,” but of at least one of the plates there must be two States, for in Robert Dumesnil’s Catalogue of his Spanish and Italian prints he notes: “there are 2 prints of the sanie subject on account of a différence.”
The “Scherzi” must then hâve been etched in Italy between 1749 and 1762, unless they were made in Spain. Their first appearance (but only fifteen of the twenty-four) was in the first édition of the “Etchings of the Tiepolos” which Giovanni Domenico published in 1775 and dedicated to Pope Pius VI, after he had published his own etchings singly. There was a subséquent édition in which they appeared as a complété set, but the plates had become worn and the results were not satisfactory.
In the last years of the XVIIIth Century Giovanni Domenico finding his plates weakened had them retouched by such a poor artist that they were spoilt. The original copper-plates of the “Adoration of the Magi” and five of the “Scherzi” are preserved at the Museo Civico, Venice.
LOLA DE VALENCE Size of original etching 9 x 6)4 inches Reproduced by courtesy of E. Weyhe
MANET’S ETCHINGS AND LITHOGRAPHS
BV CARI. ZICî ROSSF R
In Manet’s famous Manifesto to the Public in 1867, lie wrote, “M. Manet has always recognized genius wherever lie found it and lie has never aimed to overthrow an ancient tradition of art nor to establish a new one. He has merely sought to be himself and no other." This sums up his achievement in a few words. In neither his life nor his works was Manet deliberately subversive of tradition; viewed in the perspective of time, much of his art, that was so excoriated by contemporary critics, is seen to be merely a purification of and a reaction against the academie tendencies of his day. The one thing that he insisted on was that art be realistically true to the life of his time, and he sought for a technique which most adequately gave expression to this for himself. “The artist does not say nowadays: ‘corne and see works that are faultless,’ but ‘corne and see works that are sineere.’ ” It seems strange to us now that Manet’s work should excite the hostility it did. It is a curious touch of irony, too, that he should ail his life long for popular success and the flattering réception of a fashionable artist. He painted almost ail his pictures with a view to such public récognition as the Salon exhibition afforded, and in a sense his life was embittered because his work did not receive official sanction till a few years before his death. How different he was from his friend Degas who was always contemptuous of “official art” and whose realism always had a bitter and sardonic touch. Manet used to confide to Zola that he “adorait le monde” and in truth he always did feel that “all’s well with the world.”
Edouard Manet was born at Paris in 1832 of an old and well-to-do middle elass family with a long line of magistrates and other public officiais. His family was opposed to lus becoming an artist and sent him off 011 a ship to South America to give him a change of heart. But when they saw that he persisted in his desire they accepted the inévitable and he entered the atelier of Couture. There was little in connnon between the master and the pu pii and a certain friction inevitably ensued. Even at that early âge Manet’s tendency toward realism manifested itself. He once cried ont to a model who had taken a pose in the grand style: “Can’t you be natural; is this the way you stand when you’ve gone to buy a bunch of radishes at the corner store?” And Couture on his part would make such unfiattering remarks as “Corne, corne my boy, you will only be the Daumier of your time.” Couture little knew how great a compliment he was paying his pupil. After leaving the atelier in 1856 Manet travelled for a while in Holland, Germany, and Italy, and later in Spain, studying and copying old masters. In 1859 he sent his first painting to the Salon, Le Buveur (l’Absinthe; it was refused. With it began the long sériés of paintings submitted to the Salon and, with a few notable exceptions, rejected. Manet had independent means and so could afford to devote himself to his art in spite of every discou ragement.
Zola in his monograph on Manet speaks of our modem times: “The life of an artist, en nos temps
corrects et policiés is that of a tranquil bourgeois who paints pictures in his studio just as regularly as other people go to their offices and counting houses.” Manet lived just such an uneventful life, going almost daily to his atelier in Rue Lavoisier, later in Rue Guyot aux Batignolles, Rue de Saint-Petersbourg, and Rue d’Amsterdam. At times in the early days
he woulcl go to the Tuileries accompanied by Baudelaire, to niake sketches in the open air. He had his accustoincd table at the Café Tortoni and at the Café Gucrbois, the fanions gathering place of Zola, Degas, Fantin, Stevens, and the impressionist painters, Renoir, Monet, Pissarro, Sisley, and others. Later he frequented the Café de Nouvelle Athènes where he would meet Degas, Villiers l’Isle Adam, Catulle Mendes, and George Moore. Occasionally he went with Antonin Proust to the Café de Londres, where he met Gambetta and others of the statesmen group. Manet was essentially a gentleman of the world, très Parisien as Degas used to call him; there was nothing “bohemian” or unconventional about his dress or his habits, nothing that would suggest the rude vigor so characteristic of his art. George Moore describes him thus: “I had admired the fmely-cut
face from whose prominent chin a closely-cut blonde beard came forward; and the aquiline nose, the clear grey eyes, the décisive voice, the remarkable comeliness of the well-knit figure scrupulously but simply dressed, represented a personality curiously sympathetic.” Duret speaks of his perfect politeness, his great refinement of manners, his liking of society, and his loving to frequent salons where he distinguished himself by his animation and his witty sallies. In 1863 he married Suzanne Leenhoff, a woman of artistic culture and an accomplished musician. Thus he lived the leisurely and cultured life of a gentleman, enjoying ail the amenities of life in a great city, but above ail absorbed in the manifold problems of his art. In 1879 he had a mild stroke of paralysis and it was from complications arising ont of this that he died in 1883.
Manet made altogether seventy-five etchings and twenty-one lithographs. His etchings are typically painter’s etchings; he was more interested in color
and tactile values than in line work as an end in itself. Many of Manet’s etchings, too, are variants and free renderings of his own paintings and those of Velâzquez. Ilis j)rints possess vividness and spontaneity and realistic texture rather than delicacy and surface finish, the craftsman’s idéal of finesse in etching technique. His work has a rugged vitality that at once challenges and impresses the spectator. Duret gave a physiological explanation for this: “Manet was a inan of excessively nervous and sensitive temperament. The images which the eye conveyed to the brain were conceived with a vividness which, when it was transferred to a picture, appeared excessive to the commonplace vision of ordinary men.” Manet’s great contribution to the graphie arts was an application of impressionist technique to etching. He would sacrifice conventional smoothness and finish by a summary treatment of background or foreground, as in Olympia or Lola de Valence in order to focus attention on the more important parts of the picture. He would force up the values as in Les Gitanos or Le Gamin or Le Marine to give an extraordinary impression of intensity, of color, of almost tactile form. He alwrays sought for this sense of reality and power rather than for traditional beauty. He truly had wrhat Baudelaire called un goût décidé pour la réalité. With Manet this enhanced vision of form was instinctive and immédiate: he did not hâve to perform a laborious synthesis in order to give it expression, and it is this that gives his prints their spontaneity and verve. In spite of his apparent carelessness of execution, Manet wras very exacting with himself about his prints: he made four different
etchings of the Boy with the Sword (a variant of the painting in the Metropolitan Muséum, N. Y.) and was so dissatisfied that he never published any of them; and he made two etchings of Olympia and
FLEUR EXOTIQUE Size of original etching 6y£ x 4 Té inches Reproduced by courtesy of E. \Ye> lie
three sensitive outlines of the profile of Eva Gonzales. Occasionally, as in those two splendid etchings La Convalescente (M 21) and Le Liseur (M 57), lie could be subtly expressive of character. It is unfortunate that the latter is so exceedingly rare for it is one of the best things he did. Manet in his early years, just like his great predecessor Goya, made a few etchings after paintings by Velâzquez, such as Les Petits Cavaliers , l'Infante Marguerite, and Philippe IV. Goya also made an etching of this last and it is interesting to compare the two. Both of them are distinctly minor work, but Goya’s rendering is the more successful of the two.
A more detailed account of Manet’s etchings and their publication may be of interest. His first published etching, Les Gitanos (M2) appeared in September, 1862, in the first livraison of the newly formed Société des Aquafortistes, together with etchings by Legros, Bracquemond, and Ribot. The idea of bringing out original etchings in this form was originally Bracquemond’s, but it was through the good offices of Legros and the writer Babou that Cadart was persuaded to undertake the enterprise. In any case Manet was invited to appear in this first publication, and he etched the vigorous and colorful plate of the Spanish gypsies. Manet must hâve become very interested in etching about this time, for during the sanie year Cadart published a set of eight prints under the title “8 Gravures à l' eauforte par Manet." It sold for the modest sum of 12 francs or 2 francs singly and consisted of the following:
1 Le Guitarero ( M 4) 5 Le Buveur d' Absinthe ( M 8)
2 Les Petits Cavaliers ( d'après 6 La Toilette ( M ç)
Velasquez ) ( M 5) 7 Le Garçon et le Chien ( M 10)
3 Philippe IV ( d'après Vêlas- 8 Le Gamin — La Petite Fille
quez ) {M 6) ( M 11 and 12)
4 IV Es pada {M y)
It was not wcll received and fcw prints were sold. In 1863 another etching appeared through the Société des Aquafortistes, the Lola de Valence, (M 3). Th is fascinating dancer was one of a Spanish troupe very much in vogue in Paris at the time. Charles Baudelaire wrote a quatrain which was engraved at the bottom of the plate. It runs as follows:
Entre tant de beautés que partout on peut voir Je comprends bien, amis, que le Désir balance;
Mais on voit scintiller dans Lola de Valence Le charme inattendu d'un bijou rose et noir.
These two plates which Cadart first published are among Manet’s hnest etchings and the impressions are better than those taken after the letters were removed.
In the early days of the Société des Acquafortistes, Cadart also made some experiments in publishing lithographs. One day he sent lithographie stones to Manet, Ribot, Legros, Bracquemond, and Fantin Latour with instructions to draw on them whatever they wished. When, however, Fantin took his stone to the printer, it was declared, according to Hédiard, “détestable, senseless, barbarous” and nothing more was done with it. Manet drew on his stone the lithograph Le Ballon (M 76) but it must hâve suffered the saine fate as Fantin’s stone, for it was never published and only four or five trial proofs are known. About the sanie time Manet drew two lithographie music titles, one called Plainte Moresque (M 78) with a portrait of the composer, the guitarist Jerome Bosch, and the other a serenade by Zacharie Astruc inspired by Lola de Valence (M 77) with a portrait of the dancer.
About the year 1865 Manet made a number of etchings of Charles Baudelaire. Some of these, being unsuccessful, he abandoned and consequently proofs
of them are very rare; but two of them, the full face and a profile view (M 15 and 16) he finished and they appeared in 1869 in the book by Charles Asselineau, Charles Baudelaire, sa vie et son œuvre.
At about the sanie time, he made two etchings of Olympia, variants of the painting which caused such a scandai at the Salon of 1865, not so much because it was a nude as because it was a nude in an interior of the time and not in some traditional or idealistic setting. According to Bracquemond the etchings were made in lus studio and he assisted in the biting and printing of the trial proofs. It is interesting to note how the whiteness of the body is emphasized by the treatment of the background. Victorine Meurend, one of Manet’s favorite models posed for this picture. The better one of the two etchings (M 17) appeared in the brochure which Zola wrote in Manet’s defense, entitled Ed. Manet, étude biographique et critique ( Dentu 186 f). This rare little pamphlet with its éloquent and reasoned apology for Manet’s art and its etched frontispieee is one of the most precious cultural and artistic documents of the time.
In the following year, 1868, Philip Burty wrote Manet this letter:
Paris J une 28 1868
My dear Manet:
I do not know if you hâve heard of the project which I hâve been asked to undertake. A publisher wishes to bring ont this autumn a beautiful book composed of 30 sonnets and 30 etchings. The publisher will undertake the preliminary expenses. The profits — which there certainly will be, for the book, limited to 250 copies, will be sold for 50 francs — will be shared between the artists, the authors, and the publisher. I already hâve numerous promises of etchings and even the actual plates. I should like exceedingly to hâve you take part. The etching ought not to be more than 20 x 13 cm. It couîd be less. If you wish, I could hâve a copper of those dimensions sent to you. Enclosed is a sonnet which seems to me to
LE GUITARERO
Size of original etching ufé x 9^ inches Reproduced by courtesy of E. Weyhe
hannonize perfectly with wliat we know of you. If thc combination suits yon please drop me a line. If not, write me any way.
Kind regards,
Pu. Burty
P. S. Bracquemond, who is complaisance itself, will Help you bite the plate if you wish.
This letter led to the etching of “ Fleur Exotique ” ( M 18 ) which appeared in Sonnets et Eaux-Fortes ( Lemerre 1868). It is one of the most interesting of his prints, for it is just what its title describes it, fleur exotique. Manet deliberately tried to make an etching in Goya’s manner just as Turner made his Liber Studiorum in conscious imitation of Claude Lorraine. It is interesting to discover, as Manet once told Duret, that his favorite etchers were Canaletto and Goya.
In the same year, 1868, Manet painted his celebrated Execution of Maximillian. Its exhibition was forbidden for politieal reasons. It was sold and sent to America where it toured the country on public exhibition at an admission of twenty-five cents. Meanwhile Manet had made a lithograph (M 79)of the same subject and this, too, was censored. On Feb. 18, 1869, lie wrote to Burty: “The printer now refuses to deliver the stone to me and asks that I authorize him to efface the stone. . . I hâve to-
day sent him a summons by the bailiff.” Manet kept the stone and the tirage was not made until after his death.
In 1869-1870 he made an etching, Le Chat et les Fleurs ( M iç ) for Champflcury’s book on cats. He also made a lithographie poster for it (M 80) of two cats 011 the roof tops. This caused quite a sensation both because posters were then not yet in common use, and because anything that Manet did still attracted violent attention. The lithograph, one of his most vigorous and haunting designs, lias unfor-
tunately become cjni te rare. Possibly Manet also made hisetching of Les Chats ( M 43) about tliis time, though it was not published until after his death. This picture of a black cat scratching and a white cat under a chair possesses great charm by reason of its vivid graphie placement of black and white and its intimate study of feline nature.
During the war of 1870 Manet served in Paris as an officer of staff. He left several réminiscences of this time among his graphie work. The etching La Queue à la Boucherie ( M 43), portraying a line of customers outside a butcher sliop during the siégé of Paris, is very modem in its extreme simplification of form. There are also two lithographs, Guerre Civile (M 81) and Le Barricade (M 82) which exhibit scenes in Paris during the Commune in 1871. Duret tells how he and Manet came across the body of the dead soldier portrayed in the former at the corner of Rue de l’Arcade and Boulevard Malesherbes.
In 1872 Manet painted a portrait of his pupil and friend Berthe Morisot and possibly about the same time he made the two lithographs (M 83 and 84). They were not printed in number till after his death. One of these is remarkable for the swift vivid rendering of character, a genuine Parisian type. Manet was very much interested in lithography during these years, for two years later, toward the end of 1874 he made a very ambitions attempt in color lithography with seven stones, the Polichinelle ( M 8 y). The key block was in bistre, there were two tints of red, 011e yellow, one blue, one green, and one of a lighter shade of bistre. He invited a number of his literary friends to write a little verse for it. The one he liked most of ail was a couplet by Théodore de Banville as follows:
“Féroce et rose, avec du feu dans sa prunelle,
Effronté, saoid, divin, c'est lui, Polichinelle!”
He offered the lithograph to numerous publishers for 2,000 francs. No one would take it and he finally published it himself. Twenty-five impressions were printed on Japan paper, numbered and signed by the artist. There is a later tirage printed after his death and consequently unsigned. He also made a few lithographs on transfer paper and put on stone, such as that excellent and vigorous sketch of a Parisian café (M 88) and the drawing of the spectators high up in the gallery of a theater, Au Paradis ( M 8ç), which was published in the Revue de la Semaine in the I2th number of the second year.
In 1874 Cadart published another portfolio of Manet’s etchings, this time with an etched title page. The nine etchings were printed on Japan paper and the tirage according to the notation on the frontispiece was 50, though on the proof in the Degas collection the figure 150 in place of 50 was written in Manet’s hand. The set consisted of:
Lola de Valence {M 3)
Les Gitanos ( M 2)
Le Guilarero ( M 4 )
Le Gamin ( M 11)
La Petite Fille ( M 12)
La Toilette ( M 9)
Les Petits Cavaliers d'après Velasquez ( M 5) L'Infante Marguerite d'apres Velasquez ( M 6)
Le Torero Mort ( M 13)
Du ring the sanie year there appeared the eight etched illustrations to the poem Le Fleuve ( M 23-30) by Charles Cros; one hundred sets, signed by both poet and painter, were printed. One of the sets gives a view of L'Arche du Pont.
Mallarmé and Manet maintained a close friendship ovcr a long period. One of the fruits of this friendship was the publication in 1875 of Mallarmé’s translation of Poe’s, The Raven, with five lithograph illustrations by Manet. The first of these, a vignette
LA CONVALESCENTE Exact size of original etching Reproduced by courtesy of E. Weyhe
or rather an Ex Libris, is a masterly sketch of a raven; the second is a fine study of shadows under a lamp. The man opening the window to let the raven enter, in the third sketch, lias a certain resemblance to George Moore. It is not known whether Manet consciously used Moore for a model, but in view of the number of times that he put his friends into his pictures, the supposition is not at ail unlikely. Two hundred and forty copies were printed by Lesclide and signed by both Manet and Mallarmé. Manet also made an etching of Poe in medallion form (M 46). There is some correspondence between him and the poet with a view to further collaboration on Poe’s works but nothing came of it. In 1876 Manet designed four charming woodcut vignettes for Mallarmé’s Afternoon of a Faun, ( Derenne , éditeur ) ( M 101-104).
Manet died in 1883 and in the following year Edmond Bazire’s book on Manet was published by Quantin. It contained two of Manet’s best etchings the Odalisque ( M 20) and the Convalescent ( M 21). The plates were then probably destroyed for they hâve not appeared in any other form.
The various coppers in Manet’s studio were gathered together by his family and published in 1890 as a set entitled “Recueil de 24 planches sur Japon impérial , format colombier. Edite à V imprimerie de Gennevilliers (Seine).” The collection contains etchings of ail periods, the Silentium being according to Duret one of his first attempts, and the Jeanne or le Printemps being etched after his painting in the Salon of 1882. The following is the list given on the last page of the album :
