Chiparus master of art deco

Chiparus Master of Art Deco

Alberto Shayo

CHIPARUS

CHIPARUS

CHIPARUS Master of Art Deco

ALBERTO SHAYO

ACC ART BOOKS

CHIPARUS Master of Art Deco

ALBERTO SHAYO

ACC ART BOOKS

Š 2016 Alberto Shayo

World copyright reserved

ISBN ???????????

To the memory of my parents The right of Alberto Shayo to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

(pic details here for front and back covers, frontispiece and title page etc.)

Printed in ???? for ACC Art Books Ltd, Woodbridge, Suffolk, England

Marcos Shayo and RenĂŠe Safra de Shayo

Š 2016 Alberto Shayo

World copyright reserved

ISBN ???????????

To the memory of my parents The right of Alberto Shayo to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

(pic details here for front and back covers, frontispiece and title page etc.)

Printed in ???? for ACC Art Books Ltd, Woodbridge, Suffolk, England

Marcos Shayo and RenĂŠe Safra de Shayo

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Acknowledgements

7

Preface

8

The Early Years

10

Development of the Art Deco Style

18

The New Woman

28

Chiparus and the Art Deco Aesthetic

38

Chryselephantine Sculpture

46

Notes

73

Plates

74

Paintings by Chiparus

270

Care of Chryselephantine Sculpture

283

Fakes and Reproductions

283

Bibliography

284

Photographic Credits

285

Index

286

Many people have contributed to this book. I wish to thank each of them, and to single out in particular the following: Clara Sancovsky, of São Paulo, is a pioneer in the field of art deco. In the 1970s she planted the seeds of passion that was to shape the rest of my life. My fascination with the world to which she introduced me led me to set aside medicine in order to devote all my time to the study and collecting of art deco. When I told her about this project, she generously offered to open many doors; her unwavering efforts and guidance have paid off handsomely.

Raimundo and Joe Shayo, my brothers, have provided unfailing support encouraging me through difficult times.

Antonio Amado, of Miami who has a great deal of expertise in the area of art deco sculpture, has provided invaluable assistance and encouragement every step of the way. Roberto Bertran, also of Miami, deserves my sincere thanks as well.

Sharon Bailly has provided research and documentation for this project. Our work together has turned into an investigation more exciting and rewarding than I could ever have imagined. Her efficiency and perseverance have been rewarded.

David Loring gave me the benefit of his incomparable knowledge and practical experience as a dancer. He came up with numerous helpful contacts and suggested where to search for material. Many facets of the art of the dance were revealed to me through his guidance. The technique and artistry of John Dessarzin, photographer, will be appreciated by all who see this book. He accompanied me all over the world under conditions that were sometimes trying, always sharing my conviction that each picture was sure to be more wonderful than the last.

Without the contributions of Demetre Chiparus’s widow, the late Julienne Lullier Chiparus St. Martin, and her late husband Raoul St. Martin, the story of Chiparus’s life could not have been told. I am indebted to them for the time they spent with me and for sharing their memories and mementoes.

Collectors, experts, and friends for all over the world have been of great assistance. Among them I am especially grateful to: In the United States, Alastair and Alice Duncan, Robert Mann, Jody Wilkie, Frederick R. Brandt, and Vasile U. Puscas of the Romanian Library in New York.

In England, Robert Lawrence, Michael Pruskin, David Iglésis, and Millicent Hodson.

In Paris, Madame Labat of the Archives Nationales, who spent an afternoon with me pouring over old registers of the Ecole Nationale des Beaux-Arts and provided information about the school, its history and traditions; Monsieur Ehlinger, historian of the Société des Artistes Français, MarieLeonne Le Bouc; Maurice Etling and particularly Madame Raymonde Gotschaux, daughter of Julien Dreyfus, who kindly shared her recollections of her father’s foundry; Carlo Vogelgesang secured the inclusion of the paintings; JeanLouis Josse photographed them.

In Canada, Emanuel Vozner; in Brazil, Marcio Roiter Amelia Chueker and Pedro Tinoco; and in Italy, Guido Orsi.

My assistant, Nina Kryssanova, deciphered, typed, and retyped the various drafts of the book, with a keen critical intelligence and unfailing enthusiasm and energy.

Finally, I am especially grateful to the collectors whose works are included in this volume, some of whom are cited while others have chosen to remain anonymous.

To them I offer my heartfelt thanks.

7

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Acknowledgements

7

Preface

8

The Early Years

10

Development of the Art Deco Style

18

The New Woman

28

Chiparus and the Art Deco Aesthetic

38

Chryselephantine Sculpture

46

Notes

73

Plates

74

Paintings by Chiparus

270

Care of Chryselephantine Sculpture

283

Fakes and Reproductions

283

Bibliography

284

Photographic Credits

285

Index

286

Many people have contributed to this book. I wish to thank each of them, and to single out in particular the following: Clara Sancovsky, of São Paulo, is a pioneer in the field of art deco. In the 1970s she planted the seeds of passion that was to shape the rest of my life. My fascination with the world to which she introduced me led me to set aside medicine in order to devote all my time to the study and collecting of art deco. When I told her about this project, she generously offered to open many doors; her unwavering efforts and guidance have paid off handsomely.

Raimundo and Joe Shayo, my brothers, have provided unfailing support encouraging me through difficult times.

Antonio Amado, of Miami who has a great deal of expertise in the area of art deco sculpture, has provided invaluable assistance and encouragement every step of the way. Roberto Bertran, also of Miami, deserves my sincere thanks as well.

Sharon Bailly has provided research and documentation for this project. Our work together has turned into an investigation more exciting and rewarding than I could ever have imagined. Her efficiency and perseverance have been rewarded.

David Loring gave me the benefit of his incomparable knowledge and practical experience as a dancer. He came up with numerous helpful contacts and suggested where to search for material. Many facets of the art of the dance were revealed to me through his guidance. The technique and artistry of John Dessarzin, photographer, will be appreciated by all who see this book. He accompanied me all over the world under conditions that were sometimes trying, always sharing my conviction that each picture was sure to be more wonderful than the last.

Without the contributions of Demetre Chiparus’s widow, the late Julienne Lullier Chiparus St. Martin, and her late husband Raoul St. Martin, the story of Chiparus’s life could not have been told. I am indebted to them for the time they spent with me and for sharing their memories and mementoes.

Collectors, experts, and friends for all over the world have been of great assistance. Among them I am especially grateful to: In the United States, Alastair and Alice Duncan, Robert Mann, Jody Wilkie, Frederick R. Brandt, and Vasile U. Puscas of the Romanian Library in New York.

In England, Robert Lawrence, Michael Pruskin, David Iglésis, and Millicent Hodson.

In Paris, Madame Labat of the Archives Nationales, who spent an afternoon with me pouring over old registers of the Ecole Nationale des Beaux-Arts and provided information about the school, its history and traditions; Monsieur Ehlinger, historian of the Société des Artistes Français, MarieLeonne Le Bouc; Maurice Etling and particularly Madame Raymonde Gotschaux, daughter of Julien Dreyfus, who kindly shared her recollections of her father’s foundry; Carlo Vogelgesang secured the inclusion of the paintings; JeanLouis Josse photographed them.

In Canada, Emanuel Vozner; in Brazil, Marcio Roiter Amelia Chueker and Pedro Tinoco; and in Italy, Guido Orsi.

My assistant, Nina Kryssanova, deciphered, typed, and retyped the various drafts of the book, with a keen critical intelligence and unfailing enthusiasm and energy.

Finally, I am especially grateful to the collectors whose works are included in this volume, some of whom are cited while others have chosen to remain anonymous.

To them I offer my heartfelt thanks.

7

PREFACE Over 22 years ago, I wrote for the first time a preface for this book. We have both grown together since then.

It is with immense pleasure and satisfaction that I am now confronted with the task of revising, editing and above all adding new material and information to this book.

The awareness for the work of Chiparus has changed considerably. He has risen to the top of the Art Deco sculptors in the field of decorative arts. His paintings, though scarce have also been followed and appreciated.

The market for his works has also changed; there are new players in it. However, what has not changed is the excitement and fun of discovering new pieces by this

multifaceted artist. It is rare to discover new works by him but certainly not impossible and when one does find them, the initial joy has to be tempered with caution and diligence. The result can be overwhelmingly pleasurable.

I am still amazed at the places where these figures and its information does appear. There is no constant, there is no pattern: from filthy flea markets to important collections and passionate ones too.

It is interesting to note that in 1929 the prices for different models of figures did not vary that much according to subject matter as is the case today.

Wheelbarrow (group of children, 19cm high): 3,300 francs

Dancer of Kapurthala (small size, 37cm high): 1,925 francs

Chiparus prices in 1929 at the L.N.J.L. Gallery (Lehmann Editeur) in Paris: Today prices for different models have enormous variations according to: Subject matter: the exotic art deco dancers are the most searched ones, however other subjects are well regarded.

Scarcity: certain of those models are considerably rarer than others.

Condition: a figure in good condition will always attract a premium.

Friends Forever (medium size, 43cm high): 4,600 francs 8

Several new bronze figures have been added and I put together several terracotta and ceramic ones with its new information.

I have included some figures of the children series.

I have added a newly discovered painting.

There is an interesting series of rare sanguines. This only attests the fact that despite Chiparus’ fame as a sculptor, he did consider himself a painter.

Size: this is not a factor, it is a fashion. At times, the larger sizes are in demand and command a higher price, at other times the smaller models are the most wanted and those prices tend to increase.

This book is still not a catalogue raisonnĂŠ.

No image has been removed from older editions.

However, I have re-arranged them to give the most exposure to each figure and I have added relevant information on them. I replaced names of figures when originals ones were discovered and verified.

I have traced many figures that eluded me for decades, they are included here and each discovery is a magical moment. Some I continue to see only as published images. However, my biggest challenge is to find the Sunburst Dress. I know it is out there and I shall persevere.

I kept the original ownership of the artwork. With the passing of time, these may now belong to others.

9

PREFACE Over 22 years ago, I wrote for the first time a preface for this book. We have both grown together since then.

It is with immense pleasure and satisfaction that I am now confronted with the task of revising, editing and above all adding new material and information to this book.

The awareness for the work of Chiparus has changed considerably. He has risen to the top of the Art Deco sculptors in the field of decorative arts. His paintings, though scarce have also been followed and appreciated.

The market for his works has also changed; there are new players in it. However, what has not changed is the excitement and fun of discovering new pieces by this

multifaceted artist. It is rare to discover new works by him but certainly not impossible and when one does find them, the initial joy has to be tempered with caution and diligence. The result can be overwhelmingly pleasurable.

I am still amazed at the places where these figures and its information does appear. There is no constant, there is no pattern: from filthy flea markets to important collections and passionate ones too.

It is interesting to note that in 1929 the prices for different models of figures did not vary that much according to subject matter as is the case today.

Wheelbarrow (group of children, 19cm high): 3,300 francs

Dancer of Kapurthala (small size, 37cm high): 1,925 francs

Chiparus prices in 1929 at the L.N.J.L. Gallery (Lehmann Editeur) in Paris: Today prices for different models have enormous variations according to: Subject matter: the exotic art deco dancers are the most searched ones, however other subjects are well regarded.

Scarcity: certain of those models are considerably rarer than others.

Condition: a figure in good condition will always attract a premium.

Friends Forever (medium size, 43cm high): 4,600 francs 8

Several new bronze figures have been added and I put together several terracotta and ceramic ones with its new information.

I have included some figures of the children series.

I have added a newly discovered painting.

There is an interesting series of rare sanguines. This only attests the fact that despite Chiparus’ fame as a sculptor, he did consider himself a painter.

Size: this is not a factor, it is a fashion. At times, the larger sizes are in demand and command a higher price, at other times the smaller models are the most wanted and those prices tend to increase.

This book is still not a catalogue raisonnĂŠ.

No image has been removed from older editions.

However, I have re-arranged them to give the most exposure to each figure and I have added relevant information on them. I replaced names of figures when originals ones were discovered and verified.

I have traced many figures that eluded me for decades, they are included here and each discovery is a magical moment. Some I continue to see only as published images. However, my biggest challenge is to find the Sunburst Dress. I know it is out there and I shall persevere.

I kept the original ownership of the artwork. With the passing of time, these may now belong to others.

9

THE EARLY YEARS Mention of the period between the two world wars, sometimes called the Jazz Age or the Roaring Twenties, inevitably conjures up images of celebration, of youth and ebullient gaiety, which shines all the more brightly yet tragically for being caught between the horrors of two wars. The chryselephantine figures created by Demetre H. Chiparus capture this vitality and lost innocence better perhaps than the work of any other sculptor of the time.

Whether poised with arms dramatically outstretched as if about to take flight from their marble pedestals, or flexing their lithe bodies, or simply posing with artful candor Chiparus’s figures are animated with the grace of youth and the confidence of beauty.

Chiparus’s work reflects the essential qualities of the era: audacity, vigor and that indefinable mixture of flair, sophistication, and glamour that is called “style.” The streamlined, lavish art deco style is personified by his dazzling and theatrical sculptures of young women. The period provided Chiparus with a congenial idiom; he, in turn, gave it flesh.

Chiparus’s sculptures are purely decorative. They have no pretensions to a deeper significance or meaning, and this accounts for a great deal of their charm. He began to discover his personal style with his intimate and amusing portraits of children. But it was his sparkling portrayals of svelte and graceful young women poised in theatrical attitudes that brought him success as a

sculptor. In later years he turned to animal sculpture, creating strong, dramatic pieces quite different from the earlier subjects that had brought him so much success.

Demetre Chiparus was born September 16, 1886, in Dorohoi, Romania, a small town in the northeast, near the Ukranian border.1 His mother’s name was Saveta, his father’s Haralamb. Throughout his life Chiparus often signed his name “D. H. Chiparus,” the Initial H. in memory of his father, a wealthy landowner who was among the aristocracy of Dorohoi, There seems to have been only one other child in the family, a brother who died under mysterious circumstances. Chiparus later claimed that his brother had been assassinated in connection with some political affair.

Demetre was raised in the upper-class fashion dictated by the period and by his family’s situation. French was spoken at the dinner table and in the drawing room-Chiparus was fluent and had almost no accent. He was ever the gentleman, always offering a kind word or a pleasant comment; he expressed displeasure rarely, and then with the greatest of tact. He maintained, however, a strict sense of privacy. In later life Chiparus never talked about his family, nor was he given to reminiscing about his early years, only rarely evoking memories of picnics with friends in the Romanian countryside. This reticence has contributed to the aura of mystery that surrounds Chiparus, even to this day.

WINGED DANCER 10

THE EARLY YEARS Mention of the period between the two world wars, sometimes called the Jazz Age or the Roaring Twenties, inevitably conjures up images of celebration, of youth and ebullient gaiety, which shines all the more brightly yet tragically for being caught between the horrors of two wars. The chryselephantine figures created by Demetre H. Chiparus capture this vitality and lost innocence better perhaps than the work of any other sculptor of the time.

Whether poised with arms dramatically outstretched as if about to take flight from their marble pedestals, or flexing their lithe bodies, or simply posing with artful candor Chiparus’s figures are animated with the grace of youth and the confidence of beauty.

Chiparus’s work reflects the essential qualities of the era: audacity, vigor and that indefinable mixture of flair, sophistication, and glamour that is called “style.” The streamlined, lavish art deco style is personified by his dazzling and theatrical sculptures of young women. The period provided Chiparus with a congenial idiom; he, in turn, gave it flesh.

Chiparus’s sculptures are purely decorative. They have no pretensions to a deeper significance or meaning, and this accounts for a great deal of their charm. He began to discover his personal style with his intimate and amusing portraits of children. But it was his sparkling portrayals of svelte and graceful young women poised in theatrical attitudes that brought him success as a

sculptor. In later years he turned to animal sculpture, creating strong, dramatic pieces quite different from the earlier subjects that had brought him so much success.

Demetre Chiparus was born September 16, 1886, in Dorohoi, Romania, a small town in the northeast, near the Ukranian border.1 His mother’s name was Saveta, his father’s Haralamb. Throughout his life Chiparus often signed his name “D. H. Chiparus,” the Initial H. in memory of his father, a wealthy landowner who was among the aristocracy of Dorohoi, There seems to have been only one other child in the family, a brother who died under mysterious circumstances. Chiparus later claimed that his brother had been assassinated in connection with some political affair.

Demetre was raised in the upper-class fashion dictated by the period and by his family’s situation. French was spoken at the dinner table and in the drawing room-Chiparus was fluent and had almost no accent. He was ever the gentleman, always offering a kind word or a pleasant comment; he expressed displeasure rarely, and then with the greatest of tact. He maintained, however, a strict sense of privacy. In later life Chiparus never talked about his family, nor was he given to reminiscing about his early years, only rarely evoking memories of picnics with friends in the Romanian countryside. This reticence has contributed to the aura of mystery that surrounds Chiparus, even to this day.

WINGED DANCER 10

At the age of twenty-two Chiparus left Romania for Italy, intent on studying sculpture. The passport he was issued indicates that he was small in stature, with brown hair and eyes. According to the visas stamped on the passport, he left Romania on July 30, 1909, and entered what was then Austria-Hungary on August 2.2 The passport, dated July 5, 1909, allowed for four months’ travel, round trip, but Chiparus never returned to Romania. After Chiparus left home, he continued for some time to receive money from his mother’s inheritance. The funds were not exhausted until he reached the age of thirty-eight. This inheritance allowed him to pursue his art studies without financial worries.

Of his stay in Italy very little is recorded, except that he went to Florence, where he studied with the sculptor Raffaello Romanelli, the son of Pasquale Romanelli, also a sculptor. The younger Romanelli had studied at the Florence Academy, working under his father as well as other teachers. He executed sculptures for commissions from the United States, England, Austria, Cuba, and significantly received many commissions from the kingdom of Romania.3 It is likely that the young Chiparus had seen and admired the Italian sculptor’s work in Romania, and that this had been the motivation for his decision to study with him.

In Italy Chiparus pursued a complete course of artistic study, including drawing and painting as well as sculpture.

Throughout his life he continued to paint for his own enjoyment, doing landscapes and occasional portraits.4

STUDY IN PARIS Drawn by the cultural mystique of Paris, Chiparus left Italy for France in 1912. Several of his fellow artists and countrymen were already in Paris, among them Constantin Brancusi, one of this century’s most influential sculptors.

In 1905 Brancusi, a Romanian expatriate, became a student at the Ecole Nationale Superleure des Beaux-Arts, the most prestigious fine arts academy in Europe. Seven years later Chiparus enrolled there, studying under Antonin Mercié, who had also been Brancusi’s teacher.5 Chiparus applied to the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in November 1912. He was armed with a recommendation 12

from Nicolas Lahorany, a minister at the Romanian embassy in Paris, a routine practice for foreign students.

Study at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts followed a preestablished pattern. A young person would first approach the artist with whom he wished to study, asking permission to work in his atelier in order to prepare for the concours d’admission, the school’s entrance examination. The examination was rigorous and required at least several months of preparation; some students took a year or more. The first record of Chiparus’s itinerary at the Ecole is a document stating that on November 29, 1912, Mercié gave Chiparus permission to attend Mercié’s atelier Another wellknown art deco sculptor Charles Sarabezolles, had also studied in Mercies atelier, entering in 1907.

The Ecole des Beaux-Arts, a venerable institution that had produced many of France’s best artists, was strongly bound by tradition. The ateliers formed the basic unit to which students belonged and were to a great degree regulated by the students themselves. A senior student, called a massier, generally ran the atelier and collected dues to pay for the daily needs of the atelier: firewood, materials; etc.

Attendance in the ateliers was not obligatory; students came and went as they pleased, and the teacher stopped by periodically, usually once or twice a week, to survey the works in progress and offer critiques. This system allowed

great freedom. Each artist’s integration into the class depended more on how one was viewed by the mossier and the other students than by the teacher.

Chiparus’s attendance records are the only indication as to how his studies went. No other official evaluation was made of the students except for the results of the concours, after which he took no further examinations. In 1912-13, his first year, Chiparus attended eighteen classes in December; twelve in January, seventeen in February, eighteen in March, and twenty-four in April. During the school year of 1913-14

Thus, by the end of November 1912, Chiparus had officially begun his studies at the school. It is documented that he was in possession of a sculptor’s stand, as per regulations, and that he had paid a deposit of fifteen francs toward the thirty due for the atelier’s common expenses (materials, heating, etc.).6 By the spring of 1913, Chiparus considered himself ready to take the concours d’odmission, which was to decide his acceptance or rejection. His grades on the test were mediocre. In the two obligatory sections, covering the sculpted figure and the drawn classical figure,7 he achieved .a score of 13.5 out of 20. The anatomy, architecture, and history sections of the test were optional, covering knowledge considered helpful but not essential for an aspiring sculptor. He attempted two of these, scoring 5 out of 20 in anatomy and 3 out of 20 in history; he did not take the architecture portion. His scores placed Chiparus among the students who were admitted to the Ecole des Beaux-Arts on a probationary basis,8 their final status to be determined later in the course of their studies.

Chiparus studied under two teachers at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts, Mercié and Jean Boucher Although Boucher was not officially named chef d’ate/ier until 1919, by which time Chiparus had ceased to attend classes, it is likely that he took on Mercié’s duties when the older man died in 1916. Thus he was Chiparus’s second teacher at the school.

Chiparus in his rue Barrault studio when he was in his early thirties.

His work then was still strongly classical with Italianate influences.

13

At the age of twenty-two Chiparus left Romania for Italy, intent on studying sculpture. The passport he was issued indicates that he was small in stature, with brown hair and eyes. According to the visas stamped on the passport, he left Romania on July 30, 1909, and entered what was then Austria-Hungary on August 2.2 The passport, dated July 5, 1909, allowed for four months’ travel, round trip, but Chiparus never returned to Romania. After Chiparus left home, he continued for some time to receive money from his mother’s inheritance. The funds were not exhausted until he reached the age of thirty-eight. This inheritance allowed him to pursue his art studies without financial worries.

Of his stay in Italy very little is recorded, except that he went to Florence, where he studied with the sculptor Raffaello Romanelli, the son of Pasquale Romanelli, also a sculptor. The younger Romanelli had studied at the Florence Academy, working under his father as well as other teachers. He executed sculptures for commissions from the United States, England, Austria, Cuba, and significantly received many commissions from the kingdom of Romania.3 It is likely that the young Chiparus had seen and admired the Italian sculptor’s work in Romania, and that this had been the motivation for his decision to study with him.

In Italy Chiparus pursued a complete course of artistic study, including drawing and painting as well as sculpture.

Throughout his life he continued to paint for his own enjoyment, doing landscapes and occasional portraits.4

STUDY IN PARIS Drawn by the cultural mystique of Paris, Chiparus left Italy for France in 1912. Several of his fellow artists and countrymen were already in Paris, among them Constantin Brancusi, one of this century’s most influential sculptors.

In 1905 Brancusi, a Romanian expatriate, became a student at the Ecole Nationale Superleure des Beaux-Arts, the most prestigious fine arts academy in Europe. Seven years later Chiparus enrolled there, studying under Antonin Mercié, who had also been Brancusi’s teacher.5 Chiparus applied to the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in November 1912. He was armed with a recommendation 12

from Nicolas Lahorany, a minister at the Romanian embassy in Paris, a routine practice for foreign students.

Study at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts followed a preestablished pattern. A young person would first approach the artist with whom he wished to study, asking permission to work in his atelier in order to prepare for the concours d’admission, the school’s entrance examination. The examination was rigorous and required at least several months of preparation; some students took a year or more. The first record of Chiparus’s itinerary at the Ecole is a document stating that on November 29, 1912, Mercié gave Chiparus permission to attend Mercié’s atelier Another wellknown art deco sculptor Charles Sarabezolles, had also studied in Mercies atelier, entering in 1907.

The Ecole des Beaux-Arts, a venerable institution that had produced many of France’s best artists, was strongly bound by tradition. The ateliers formed the basic unit to which students belonged and were to a great degree regulated by the students themselves. A senior student, called a massier, generally ran the atelier and collected dues to pay for the daily needs of the atelier: firewood, materials; etc.

Attendance in the ateliers was not obligatory; students came and went as they pleased, and the teacher stopped by periodically, usually once or twice a week, to survey the works in progress and offer critiques. This system allowed

great freedom. Each artist’s integration into the class depended more on how one was viewed by the mossier and the other students than by the teacher.

Chiparus’s attendance records are the only indication as to how his studies went. No other official evaluation was made of the students except for the results of the concours, after which he took no further examinations. In 1912-13, his first year, Chiparus attended eighteen classes in December; twelve in January, seventeen in February, eighteen in March, and twenty-four in April. During the school year of 1913-14

Thus, by the end of November 1912, Chiparus had officially begun his studies at the school. It is documented that he was in possession of a sculptor’s stand, as per regulations, and that he had paid a deposit of fifteen francs toward the thirty due for the atelier’s common expenses (materials, heating, etc.).6 By the spring of 1913, Chiparus considered himself ready to take the concours d’odmission, which was to decide his acceptance or rejection. His grades on the test were mediocre. In the two obligatory sections, covering the sculpted figure and the drawn classical figure,7 he achieved .a score of 13.5 out of 20. The anatomy, architecture, and history sections of the test were optional, covering knowledge considered helpful but not essential for an aspiring sculptor. He attempted two of these, scoring 5 out of 20 in anatomy and 3 out of 20 in history; he did not take the architecture portion. His scores placed Chiparus among the students who were admitted to the Ecole des Beaux-Arts on a probationary basis,8 their final status to be determined later in the course of their studies.

Chiparus studied under two teachers at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts, Mercié and Jean Boucher Although Boucher was not officially named chef d’ate/ier until 1919, by which time Chiparus had ceased to attend classes, it is likely that he took on Mercié’s duties when the older man died in 1916. Thus he was Chiparus’s second teacher at the school.

Chiparus in his rue Barrault studio when he was in his early thirties.

His work then was still strongly classical with Italianate influences.

13

he did not attend at all. In 1914-15 he did not attend either; but this is not surprising, for World War I had caused the suspension of most classes. Even when classes were held, attendance was meager Chiparus’s name appears again in 1915-16: eight times in November and five in December.

Afterward, he no longer figures on the school’s roll books.9 At the risk of reading too much into these attendance records, it is plausible to conclude that after an initial period of enthusiasm, Chiparus quickly became dissatisfied with the instruction at the Ecole. Did he find the school’s cursus too rigorously academic, or was he frustrated by the absence of the teacher? The most likely explanation is that he had probably begun to make a living from his work and preferred to concentrate on becoming a commercially successful sculptor rather than continuing to work in the officially endorsed academic style.

The nature of Chiparus’s student work is evident from a life-size piece called The Difficult Crossing, which depicts a woman or a youth carrying a child on his or her back.

In 1914 this and another sculpture, The Wounded Child (pieces depicting a child or youth wounded in the war were popular at the time), were exhibited at the Salon des Artistes Francais.

The Difficult Crossing, which won Chiparus an honorable mention, can be seen at the right in a photograph of his studio on the rue Barrault.

THE DIFFICULT CROSSING plaster model Private collection 14

EARLY YEARS IN PARIS When Chiparus first arrived in Paris, he lived at a small hotel in the Latin Quarter; the Hotel Monsieur Ie Prince, at 13 rue Monsieur-lePrince. By 1918 he had his first studio, at 24

rue Barrault in the thirteenth arrondissement. The street was comprised of a row of small studios within a courtyard, where several other artists lived as well.

It was in about 1924 that Chiparus met julienne Lullier; the sister of one of his acquaintances. Julienne’s father had died when she was five years old, leaving her mother without resources, and she and her brother were placed in orphanages. At the age of thirteen, after her mother had taken her back home, Julienne began working to help support her family. When she met Demetre Chiparus, she was a clerk in a perfume shop.

He was sixteen years older than she, and he sometimes teased her about the difference in their ages, saying she was too young for him. Yet the two were quite compatible. They did not socialize much, contenting themselves with each other’s company, and they did not marry until 1939, after they had lived together for nearly fifteen years. They had no children. After her own grim childhood, their life together seemed like a dream to Julienne. She said, “I was as happy as a fish in water”10 At the height of his success, when money was plentiful, they traveled to the pleasure spots then in vogue: Le Touquet, Nice, Evian, Lausanne, Monte Carlo, and Cannes, among others. They stayed in the finest hotels and dined in the best restaurants, living in high style.

Madame Chiparus proudly recalled that their hotel in Barbizon had once been visited by the Queen of England.

The couple’s favorite trips were long outings in the French countryside. They would leave Paris in the morning, carrying their lunch with them, and walk for miles in the Fountainebleau forest. Sometimes Demetre would sketch or paint.

These outings described by Madame Chiparus were often the only interruption her husband would allow himself from sculpting. He spent between twelve to fifteen hours a day in his studio, frequently needing to be prodded to take a break for meals. Julienne occasionally kept him company as he worked. He maintained that her chatter was a pleasant distraction for him, as long as no answer was required. Keep talking,” he would mutter, as he concentrated on the sculpture before him.

Chiparus in his studio. In addition to paintings, the sculpture The Difficult Crossing is visible at the right, and several figures from the children series can be recognized.

A TIME FOR CHANGE The Paris that Chiparus had settled in was a city newly transformed by social, cultural, and economic forces. The years following World War 1 saw an upsurge In capitalism and commercialism; with it came a generation avid for novelty. European society had been turned upside down, and there were radical changes afoot that were transforming all facets of life. A whole generation of young men had been decimated, and women were freed from the confines of their homes to take an active role in the outside world.

Technological advances made transportation unthinkably

easy; the machine revolutionized production and distribution of consumer goods; rapidity and instability came to reign.

It soon became clear that the seemingly immutable social order of previous generations had been irreparably breached. Colossal fortunes were being made by immigrants and their sons, while some of the “best” families found their fortunes greatly diminished by changing monetary standards. Alliances were made, and new financial dynasties were founded on marriages between old money” and the aggressive and powerful interlopers.

15

he did not attend at all. In 1914-15 he did not attend either; but this is not surprising, for World War I had caused the suspension of most classes. Even when classes were held, attendance was meager Chiparus’s name appears again in 1915-16: eight times in November and five in December.

Afterward, he no longer figures on the school’s roll books.9 At the risk of reading too much into these attendance records, it is plausible to conclude that after an initial period of enthusiasm, Chiparus quickly became dissatisfied with the instruction at the Ecole. Did he find the school’s cursus too rigorously academic, or was he frustrated by the absence of the teacher? The most likely explanation is that he had probably begun to make a living from his work and preferred to concentrate on becoming a commercially successful sculptor rather than continuing to work in the officially endorsed academic style.

The nature of Chiparus’s student work is evident from a life-size piece called The Difficult Crossing, which depicts a woman or a youth carrying a child on his or her back.

In 1914 this and another sculpture, The Wounded Child (pieces depicting a child or youth wounded in the war were popular at the time), were exhibited at the Salon des Artistes Francais.

The Difficult Crossing, which won Chiparus an honorable mention, can be seen at the right in a photograph of his studio on the rue Barrault.

THE DIFFICULT CROSSING plaster model Private collection 14

EARLY YEARS IN PARIS When Chiparus first arrived in Paris, he lived at a small hotel in the Latin Quarter; the Hotel Monsieur Ie Prince, at 13 rue Monsieur-lePrince. By 1918 he had his first studio, at 24

rue Barrault in the thirteenth arrondissement. The street was comprised of a row of small studios within a courtyard, where several other artists lived as well.

It was in about 1924 that Chiparus met julienne Lullier; the sister of one of his acquaintances. Julienne’s father had died when she was five years old, leaving her mother without resources, and she and her brother were placed in orphanages. At the age of thirteen, after her mother had taken her back home, Julienne began working to help support her family. When she met Demetre Chiparus, she was a clerk in a perfume shop.

He was sixteen years older than she, and he sometimes teased her about the difference in their ages, saying she was too young for him. Yet the two were quite compatible. They did not socialize much, contenting themselves with each other’s company, and they did not marry until 1939, after they had lived together for nearly fifteen years. They had no children. After her own grim childhood, their life together seemed like a dream to Julienne. She said, “I was as happy as a fish in water”10 At the height of his success, when money was plentiful, they traveled to the pleasure spots then in vogue: Le Touquet, Nice, Evian, Lausanne, Monte Carlo, and Cannes, among others. They stayed in the finest hotels and dined in the best restaurants, living in high style.

Madame Chiparus proudly recalled that their hotel in Barbizon had once been visited by the Queen of England.

The couple’s favorite trips were long outings in the French countryside. They would leave Paris in the morning, carrying their lunch with them, and walk for miles in the Fountainebleau forest. Sometimes Demetre would sketch or paint.

These outings described by Madame Chiparus were often the only interruption her husband would allow himself from sculpting. He spent between twelve to fifteen hours a day in his studio, frequently needing to be prodded to take a break for meals. Julienne occasionally kept him company as he worked. He maintained that her chatter was a pleasant distraction for him, as long as no answer was required. Keep talking,” he would mutter, as he concentrated on the sculpture before him.

Chiparus in his studio. In addition to paintings, the sculpture The Difficult Crossing is visible at the right, and several figures from the children series can be recognized.

A TIME FOR CHANGE The Paris that Chiparus had settled in was a city newly transformed by social, cultural, and economic forces. The years following World War 1 saw an upsurge In capitalism and commercialism; with it came a generation avid for novelty. European society had been turned upside down, and there were radical changes afoot that were transforming all facets of life. A whole generation of young men had been decimated, and women were freed from the confines of their homes to take an active role in the outside world.

Technological advances made transportation unthinkably

easy; the machine revolutionized production and distribution of consumer goods; rapidity and instability came to reign.

It soon became clear that the seemingly immutable social order of previous generations had been irreparably breached. Colossal fortunes were being made by immigrants and their sons, while some of the “best” families found their fortunes greatly diminished by changing monetary standards. Alliances were made, and new financial dynasties were founded on marriages between old money” and the aggressive and powerful interlopers.

15

The nouveaux riches sought amusement and gratification with a vengeance. They spent their money in highly visible ways in an attempt to buy instantaneous social status; this was the beginning of what is now called conspicuous consumption. Ever more elegant clothes, luxurious cars, and lavishly decorated homes were required as a backdrop to the busy and exciting lives of the nouveaux riches.

In the midst of this social upheaval, the housing built after the First World War reflected new concerns. The need for economy of means imposed the use of cheaper materials such as steel and concrete and the implementation of starker and simpler forms, A new preoccupation with hygiene” dictated that dwellings be designed to allow as much light and air as possible into each room. These modern living spaces lent themselves to a different style of interior decoration. One writer noted in 1925 the sober

aspect, the nudity of the decor reduced to simple elements. These are conceived as essential bases to which personal accessories-material, rugs, paintings, ceramics, and knick-knacks bring a note of intimacy and originality.”11 It was as if, in a theater, the sets from an old production had been swept away, leaving a bare stage ready to be filled with entirely new scenery.

The old arbiters of fashion, and indeed, of propriety, no longer counted; the established notions of good taste had been overturned. All the elements – a psychological and physical need for change, the presence of skilled designers and artisans, and a conducive economic and social climate – were in place for the advent of an exciting and novel decorative style. The new high priests of fashion and chic, people like Paul Poiret, Coco Chanel, Sergei Diaghilev, and Jean Cocteau, found their followers among a new class of consumers.

Left: Chiparus and Julienne in the South of France. The woman at the left is not identified.

Opposite top left: Chiparus and Julienne, winter stroll.

Opposite top right: Chiparus in Lausanne, on Lake Geneva.

Opposite below left: Chiparus in Evian.

Opposite below centre: Chiparus painting in the French countryside.

Opposite below right: Chiparus and Julienne in Paris, Easter 1935. The person at the back is not identified.

16

17

The nouveaux riches sought amusement and gratification with a vengeance. They spent their money in highly visible ways in an attempt to buy instantaneous social status; this was the beginning of what is now called conspicuous consumption. Ever more elegant clothes, luxurious cars, and lavishly decorated homes were required as a backdrop to the busy and exciting lives of the nouveaux riches.

In the midst of this social upheaval, the housing built after the First World War reflected new concerns. The need for economy of means imposed the use of cheaper materials such as steel and concrete and the implementation of starker and simpler forms, A new preoccupation with hygiene” dictated that dwellings be designed to allow as much light and air as possible into each room. These modern living spaces lent themselves to a different style of interior decoration. One writer noted in 1925 the sober

aspect, the nudity of the decor reduced to simple elements. These are conceived as essential bases to which personal accessories-material, rugs, paintings, ceramics, and knick-knacks bring a note of intimacy and originality.”11 It was as if, in a theater, the sets from an old production had been swept away, leaving a bare stage ready to be filled with entirely new scenery.

The old arbiters of fashion, and indeed, of propriety, no longer counted; the established notions of good taste had been overturned. All the elements – a psychological and physical need for change, the presence of skilled designers and artisans, and a conducive economic and social climate – were in place for the advent of an exciting and novel decorative style. The new high priests of fashion and chic, people like Paul Poiret, Coco Chanel, Sergei Diaghilev, and Jean Cocteau, found their followers among a new class of consumers.

Left: Chiparus and Julienne in the South of France. The woman at the left is not identified.

Opposite top left: Chiparus and Julienne, winter stroll.

Opposite top right: Chiparus in Lausanne, on Lake Geneva.

Opposite below left: Chiparus in Evian.

Opposite below centre: Chiparus painting in the French countryside.

Opposite below right: Chiparus and Julienne in Paris, Easter 1935. The person at the back is not identified.

16

17

THE NEW WOMAN

The emergence of the New Woman made changes in fashion possible, and indeed, inevitable. The heavy casualties of the First World War – 1,325,000 dead and 3 million wounded in the French army – had left cities and towns nearly empty of men. Women had been forced to fill the breach. In doing so, they had acquired independence, confidence, and the freedom to circulate in a world beyond the confines of the nursery and drawing room.

The fashion designers Paul Poiret rebelled against the unnatural silhouette created by the corset, searching for inspiration in styles of past eras. His neoclassical directoire gowns were sheaths of fluid material draped artlessly from the shoulders, with the waist raised to just under the breasts. Many of Poiret’s designs were influenced by Orientalism; he introduced the ‘harem skirt,’ actually a pair of full-cut trousers made to appear to be a skirt. These were often worn with a tunic, the hem of which was wired, making it stand away from the body. Poiret called these ‘lamp-shade’ tunics.

Chiparus captured this design in two statuettes, Fancy Dress and Oriental Dancer (plates 23 and 25). Poiret often used rich beading, fur, and ropes of pearls to give an exotic look to his dresses. Accessories were capital: he wrapped women’s heads in silk turbans, sometimes punctuated with tall, pointed aigrette feathers to lengthen the already-long line.

FASHION The social and psychological changes of the postwar years had far-reaching effects on women’s dress.

During the belle époque women had been perceived as romantic figures, swathed in yards of silk, whalebone corsets nipping in the waist to exaggerate the curves of breasts and hips. These were idealized images of women, immobile, ethereal, and untouchable.

In the twenties, fashion dictated an androgynous style whose sleek, boyish silhouette was the opposite of the voluptuous hourglass figure created by the corset.

Modern-woman, like express trains and airplanes, had to be streamlined: any vestige of old-fashioned curves would impede her headlong progress through society.

Her dresses were made for movement, for the New Woman was no longer content to stand immobile on a pedestal, to be merely admired.

With the emergence of the New Man in the early years of the twentieth century, whose social and artistic concerns were shaped by the machine and technology, came the New Woman, released from the confining bounds of house and family. Women were finally allowed to study art alongside men (the Ecole des Beaux-Arts began to admit women in 1897), and they bobbed their hair and loosed their clothing.

FANCY DRESS 28

THE NEW WOMAN

The emergence of the New Woman made changes in fashion possible, and indeed, inevitable. The heavy casualties of the First World War – 1,325,000 dead and 3 million wounded in the French army – had left cities and towns nearly empty of men. Women had been forced to fill the breach. In doing so, they had acquired independence, confidence, and the freedom to circulate in a world beyond the confines of the nursery and drawing room.

The fashion designers Paul Poiret rebelled against the unnatural silhouette created by the corset, searching for inspiration in styles of past eras. His neoclassical directoire gowns were sheaths of fluid material draped artlessly from the shoulders, with the waist raised to just under the breasts. Many of Poiret’s designs were influenced by Orientalism; he introduced the ‘harem skirt,’ actually a pair of full-cut trousers made to appear to be a skirt. These were often worn with a tunic, the hem of which was wired, making it stand away from the body. Poiret called these ‘lamp-shade’ tunics.

Chiparus captured this design in two statuettes, Fancy Dress and Oriental Dancer (plates 23 and 25). Poiret often used rich beading, fur, and ropes of pearls to give an exotic look to his dresses. Accessories were capital: he wrapped women’s heads in silk turbans, sometimes punctuated with tall, pointed aigrette feathers to lengthen the already-long line.

FASHION The social and psychological changes of the postwar years had far-reaching effects on women’s dress.

During the belle époque women had been perceived as romantic figures, swathed in yards of silk, whalebone corsets nipping in the waist to exaggerate the curves of breasts and hips. These were idealized images of women, immobile, ethereal, and untouchable.

In the twenties, fashion dictated an androgynous style whose sleek, boyish silhouette was the opposite of the voluptuous hourglass figure created by the corset.

Modern-woman, like express trains and airplanes, had to be streamlined: any vestige of old-fashioned curves would impede her headlong progress through society.

Her dresses were made for movement, for the New Woman was no longer content to stand immobile on a pedestal, to be merely admired.

With the emergence of the New Man in the early years of the twentieth century, whose social and artistic concerns were shaped by the machine and technology, came the New Woman, released from the confining bounds of house and family. Women were finally allowed to study art alongside men (the Ecole des Beaux-Arts began to admit women in 1897), and they bobbed their hair and loosed their clothing.

FANCY DRESS 28

Legs which had been taboo for so long that even a glimpse of ankle could provoke an erotic thrill, were now exposed, sensuously wrapped in silk stockings.

The old-fashioned laced ankle boots were discarded in favor of low-cut, pointed shoes designed to make the foot appear slender. Dresses designed for dancing were made of shimmery, clingy materials. They were often embroidered or adorned with glimmering beads and pearls that enhanced the silhouette in motion.

the arms. Accessories could sometimes run to extremes: fashionable women were known to enlist the help of a svelte, streamlined canine companion, usually a greyhound or borzoi, to complete the effect and their toilette. Chiparus depicted this vogue in Friends Forever (plate 13), for which he rented a Russian borzoi as a model (returning the dog promptly when the twenty-five-day rental period was over so that he would’nt get too attached to it).

The ideal was a long, slender line, and accessories helped to achieve it: cloche hats accentuated the impression of a small, neat head perched atop a swan neck. Above-the-elbow gloves lengthened the line of

Another sure sign of women’s changing role was that the long, silky, perfumed hair that had been a symbol of femininity during the nineteenth century was now chopped off, a la garçonne. Indeed, the New Woman was often called a garconne (boy-woman), venturing as she did into territory that had once been considered the exclusive domain of the male. Novels like Victor Margueritte’s La Garçonne celebrated this exotic if somewhat tainted creature, who earned her own living and lived as she pleased, often quite scandalously.

Fashion encouraged even respectable women to flirt with sexual freedom, and it became commonplace to colour one’s lips and wear makeup. Musky, provocative perfumes began to take the place of the discreet floral scents that well-bred women had permitted themselves to wear.

Everything – history, society, fashion – seemed to conspire in the new century to transform women and to broaden their horizons. In 1920 official recognition was given to the most famous boy-woman in history.

That was the year that Joan of Arc was canonized, thus striking a further blow for women’s emancipation – and the church unwittingly blessed androgynous dress.

Julienne with the Russian borzoi rented as a model for the sculpture Friends Forever 30

DANCE AND DANCERS, HIGH- AND LOW-BROW Paris in the 1920s was inebriated with dance, in any and every form. Hotels and restaurants offered dancing to their clientele as an added attraction, giving rise to a new occupation, the professional dancer. These were generally charming and social adept young men whose job it was to show the customers, often lonely, middleaged women, a good time on the dance floor.

FRIENDS FOREVER plate 13

Among the dances popular at the time were the onestep, the two-step, the fox-trot, and the Charleston.

But certainly the most exciting was the tango, which had originated in the slums of Buenes Aires during the early years of the century. At first too erotically suggestive to be widely acceptd, the tango’s distinctive rhythms and seductive grace eventually brought it into favor in Europe and America. In Paris the tango was danced in the dance hall and the music hall. Chiparus’s Tango (plate 17) shows the film idol Rudolph Valentino

and his wife, Natasha Rambova, a talented dancer and film decorator doing the tango, which they performed to packed audiences in the United States and Europe.1 One of the most famous dancers of the twentieth century was an American renegade, Isadora Duncan, who had made her first appearance in Paris in the early years of the century. She rejected the classical dance tradition as being too narrow and restrictive, and preferred to interpret music with her gestures, moved by 31

Legs which had been taboo for so long that even a glimpse of ankle could provoke an erotic thrill, were now exposed, sensuously wrapped in silk stockings.

The old-fashioned laced ankle boots were discarded in favor of low-cut, pointed shoes designed to make the foot appear slender. Dresses designed for dancing were made of shimmery, clingy materials. They were often embroidered or adorned with glimmering beads and pearls that enhanced the silhouette in motion.

the arms. Accessories could sometimes run to extremes: fashionable women were known to enlist the help of a svelte, streamlined canine companion, usually a greyhound or borzoi, to complete the effect and their toilette. Chiparus depicted this vogue in Friends Forever (plate 13), for which he rented a Russian borzoi as a model (returning the dog promptly when the twenty-five-day rental period was over so that he would’nt get too attached to it).

The ideal was a long, slender line, and accessories helped to achieve it: cloche hats accentuated the impression of a small, neat head perched atop a swan neck. Above-the-elbow gloves lengthened the line of

Another sure sign of women’s changing role was that the long, silky, perfumed hair that had been a symbol of femininity during the nineteenth century was now chopped off, a la garçonne. Indeed, the New Woman was often called a garconne (boy-woman), venturing as she did into territory that had once been considered the exclusive domain of the male. Novels like Victor Margueritte’s La Garçonne celebrated this exotic if somewhat tainted creature, who earned her own living and lived as she pleased, often quite scandalously.

Fashion encouraged even respectable women to flirt with sexual freedom, and it became commonplace to colour one’s lips and wear makeup. Musky, provocative perfumes began to take the place of the discreet floral scents that well-bred women had permitted themselves to wear.

Everything – history, society, fashion – seemed to conspire in the new century to transform women and to broaden their horizons. In 1920 official recognition was given to the most famous boy-woman in history.

That was the year that Joan of Arc was canonized, thus striking a further blow for women’s emancipation – and the church unwittingly blessed androgynous dress.

Julienne with the Russian borzoi rented as a model for the sculpture Friends Forever 30

DANCE AND DANCERS, HIGH- AND LOW-BROW Paris in the 1920s was inebriated with dance, in any and every form. Hotels and restaurants offered dancing to their clientele as an added attraction, giving rise to a new occupation, the professional dancer. These were generally charming and social adept young men whose job it was to show the customers, often lonely, middleaged women, a good time on the dance floor.

FRIENDS FOREVER plate 13

Among the dances popular at the time were the onestep, the two-step, the fox-trot, and the Charleston.

But certainly the most exciting was the tango, which had originated in the slums of Buenes Aires during the early years of the century. At first too erotically suggestive to be widely acceptd, the tango’s distinctive rhythms and seductive grace eventually brought it into favor in Europe and America. In Paris the tango was danced in the dance hall and the music hall. Chiparus’s Tango (plate 17) shows the film idol Rudolph Valentino

and his wife, Natasha Rambova, a talented dancer and film decorator doing the tango, which they performed to packed audiences in the United States and Europe.1 One of the most famous dancers of the twentieth century was an American renegade, Isadora Duncan, who had made her first appearance in Paris in the early years of the century. She rejected the classical dance tradition as being too narrow and restrictive, and preferred to interpret music with her gestures, moved by 31

The dancer Chrysis, the source for Invocation (plate 44), from the magazine Paris Music Hall.

THE DOLLY SISTERS

The Dolly Sisters in Paris, from Dance Lovers Magazine, September 1924.

her own inspiration. Duncan danced barefoot, clad in fluid Greek tunics that allowed freedom of movement and revealed her body. Her teaching and example influenced a whole generation of modern dancers. The naturalness of her dancing and costumers inspired sculptors as well, and many pieces by Chiparus and his contemporaries show Duncan types. Anaesthwsia (plate 49) depicts Duncan barefoot and covered in veils.

The Théâtre de la Chauve Souris (Bat Theater), though nearly forgotten today was an influential form of musical theater. Founded in Moscow in 1908, but most successful in Paris in the 1920s, it blended attributes of such disparate forms of entertainment as cabaret, theater, musical theater, classical dance, and music hall. The performances were made up of brief vignettes, following each other in quick succession. The brevity of these scenes, as well as the skillful use of lighting, is a precursor to the musical hall, which provided Chiparus with much of his inspiration.

The Dolly Sisters were well-known musical hall performers in the 1920s and 1930s. Jancsi and 32

Roszicha Schwartz (they called themselves Jenny and Rosie) were Hungarian twins who grew up in New York. With their identical costumes, blunt hair cuts, and elaborate makeup – with elongated geisha eyes and symmetrical crimson circles on their cheeks – it was hard to tell them apart.

The Dolly Sisters had a large following in the United States and played at all the big Parisian music halls, among them the Moulin Rouge and the Casino de Paris. Chiparus depicted the Dolly Sisters in bronze and ivory, identical in every detail (plate 98).

THE MUSIC HALL Descended from a long tradition of popular amusements, the Parisian music hall offered a lively and viable form of entertainment. The city boasted dozens of such establishments, among them the Folies Berg`ere, the Cigale, the Moulin Rouge, the Olympia, the Alcazar, and the Alhambra. They filled up every night with diverse and enthusiastic audiences, many of

INVOCATION

A dancer of “Spask’s Ballet”, a revue at the Moulin Rouge, the pose is the source for Old Style Dance (plate 91) from the magazine Paris plaisirs, no. 3, 1927.

them foreigners for whom a trip to the French capital would not be complete without an evening at the musical hall. The revues were enormously entertaining, offering sumptuous, Hollywood-style productions with flashy costumes, music, and dancing, Chiparus went out regularly to see them – alone, insists Julienne.

The revues themselves were a piquant melting pot of popular Parisian culture, inspired by contemporary

OLD STYLE DANCE

events, such as the Paris Exposition Universelle of 1889 or the newfangled airplane.2 At the Casino in 1920 dancers performed tableaux vivants of wellknown paintings by François Boucher, Jean-Honore Fragonard, and Antoine Watteau.3 Classical ballet was also a source of inspiration in the music hall: a whole spate of revues based on the Scheherazade and Cleopatra themes followed those 33

The dancer Chrysis, the source for Invocation (plate 44), from the magazine Paris Music Hall.

THE DOLLY SISTERS

The Dolly Sisters in Paris, from Dance Lovers Magazine, September 1924.

her own inspiration. Duncan danced barefoot, clad in fluid Greek tunics that allowed freedom of movement and revealed her body. Her teaching and example influenced a whole generation of modern dancers. The naturalness of her dancing and costumers inspired sculptors as well, and many pieces by Chiparus and his contemporaries show Duncan types. Anaesthwsia (plate 49) depicts Duncan barefoot and covered in veils.

The Théâtre de la Chauve Souris (Bat Theater), though nearly forgotten today was an influential form of musical theater. Founded in Moscow in 1908, but most successful in Paris in the 1920s, it blended attributes of such disparate forms of entertainment as cabaret, theater, musical theater, classical dance, and music hall. The performances were made up of brief vignettes, following each other in quick succession. The brevity of these scenes, as well as the skillful use of lighting, is a precursor to the musical hall, which provided Chiparus with much of his inspiration.

The Dolly Sisters were well-known musical hall performers in the 1920s and 1930s. Jancsi and 32

Roszicha Schwartz (they called themselves Jenny and Rosie) were Hungarian twins who grew up in New York. With their identical costumes, blunt hair cuts, and elaborate makeup – with elongated geisha eyes and symmetrical crimson circles on their cheeks – it was hard to tell them apart.

The Dolly Sisters had a large following in the United States and played at all the big Parisian music halls, among them the Moulin Rouge and the Casino de Paris. Chiparus depicted the Dolly Sisters in bronze and ivory, identical in every detail (plate 98).

THE MUSIC HALL Descended from a long tradition of popular amusements, the Parisian music hall offered a lively and viable form of entertainment. The city boasted dozens of such establishments, among them the Folies Berg`ere, the Cigale, the Moulin Rouge, the Olympia, the Alcazar, and the Alhambra. They filled up every night with diverse and enthusiastic audiences, many of

INVOCATION

A dancer of “Spask’s Ballet”, a revue at the Moulin Rouge, the pose is the source for Old Style Dance (plate 91) from the magazine Paris plaisirs, no. 3, 1927.

them foreigners for whom a trip to the French capital would not be complete without an evening at the musical hall. The revues were enormously entertaining, offering sumptuous, Hollywood-style productions with flashy costumes, music, and dancing, Chiparus went out regularly to see them – alone, insists Julienne.

The revues themselves were a piquant melting pot of popular Parisian culture, inspired by contemporary

OLD STYLE DANCE

events, such as the Paris Exposition Universelle of 1889 or the newfangled airplane.2 At the Casino in 1920 dancers performed tableaux vivants of wellknown paintings by François Boucher, Jean-Honore Fragonard, and Antoine Watteau.3 Classical ballet was also a source of inspiration in the music hall: a whole spate of revues based on the Scheherazade and Cleopatra themes followed those 33

The dancer Smirnova in the role of Cleopatra at the Folies Bergere, from a magazine from the 1920s.

ballets’ successful performances by the Ballets Russes.

The Ballets Russes premiered Cleopatra in 1909, during its first Paris season. Based on a story by the French poet and novelist Théophile Gautier, it recounts the tale of an Oriental femme fatale who seduces a young nobleman on the eve of his marriage, demanding his life as payment for her favors. It was in this ballet that Ida Rubinstein made her first stage appearance. She was carried on stage in a sarcophagus by six bearers, accompanied by a retinue of musicians and slaves and swathed in veils, like a mummy. These veils were stripped away one by one in a dramatic and, for the era, quite daring scene. Chiparus took the Cleopatra theme for several of his sculptures, including Cleopatra’s Vanity (plate 39), depicting Cleopatra reclining on a couch, admiring herself in a mirror held by her slave.

In 1925 a music hall version of the classical ballet L’Apres-midi d’un faune was given at the Concert Mayol, with Claude Debussy’s music. Music hall dancer’s took the roles of faun and nymphs. Even the costumes were reminiscent of those made famous by the Ballets Russes in a 1912 performance: the faun’s spotted leotard was a copy of the one first worn by Vaslav Nijinsky. The women, however, were naked from the waist up – a departure from the original production.

Many music hall dancers found that taking Russiansounding names lent them an aura of mystery and artistry. Sergine, Komarova and Korjine played at the 34

Folies Bergere, as did Tarkhanova. At the Edouard VII theater one could see the Ballets Stylises of Boris Kniaseff and Thamara Gevergeva – not to mention Mezentseva, Troutowska, and Mademoiselle Nattova.

Indeed, the music hall so successfully imitated the most spectacular elements of the Ballets Russes that one writer expressed his disillusion in these terms: ‘We had the Ballets Russes at the Théatre Sarah-Bernhardt. But the thrill was no longer there. We have become blasé about this kind of artistic emotion. The music hall does it much better and the costumes are even more opulent. And besides, the hint of scandal that used to accompany their fantastic galas is missing.”4 The line between classical and popular dance was not quite so firmly drawn as it is today. It was not uncommon for artists to work in both domains, or to make occasional incursions into one or the other. Léon Bakst designed for the popular revue “Hullo, Tango” given at the London Hippodrome in 1913. This was Bakst’s only effort at creating contemporary costumes, and the results were striking part high fashion, part fancy dress, all enhanced by Bakst’s inimitable imagination.

Chiparus borrowed and sometimes blended elements from both the Ballets Russes and the more populist music hall and cabaret. Occasionally a piece can be seen to have been directly influenced by either ballet or the music hall. Subtle clues are given by the figure’s stance.

A music hall performer would for example, present herself to the audience face front, with a trouper’s

Tera Guinob in the revue ‘Spirit of Paris’ at the Théatre de la Madeleine, the source for Vedette, from the magazine Paris plaisirs, 1924-25.

Vedette, bronze on marble base, 31 1⁄2 in. (80cm) high. Page from a catalog published by Les Neveux de J. Lehmann, Paris.

superb arrogance, as if awaiting applause that will not fail to come. In Finale (plate 76), for example, the three dancers are clearly performing for an audience, poised for applause, as is the dancer in Kora (plate 68), who wears an unusual and extravagant costume, inspired by music hall design. A classically trained dancer on the other hand, would tend to be intent on the work she is interpreting, striking more introspective, self-contained poses, as in Ayouta (plate 51). The subject of Tanara (plate 15) appears to be a classical ballet dancer by virtue of the slippers whose laces she is tying.

The appeal of the music hall was frankly erotic, unhampered by any artistic pretensions. Dancers appears on the stage partially or completely nude, and costumes were designed to be titillating. Chiparus’s

dancers are very often bare breasted, such as Delhi Dancer (plate 29), Dancer of Olynthus (plate 35), and Chain Dancer (plate 34), and in Inocation (plate 44) the dancer is wearing only a helmet and two bracelets. The source for this figure is clearly a photograph of the dancer Chrysis that appeared in the magazine Paris Music Hall.

In some instances it is quite clear that a sculpture was based on a particular dancer’s pose. Chiparus’s contemporaries Ferdinand Preiss, Otto Poertzel, and Armand Godard are known to have used certain dancers for models and to have based their figures closely on certain poses and costumes taken from the music hall. A contemporary journalist makes mention of a particular music hall dancer who “at times playing 35

The dancer Smirnova in the role of Cleopatra at the Folies Bergere, from a magazine from the 1920s.

ballets’ successful performances by the Ballets Russes.

The Ballets Russes premiered Cleopatra in 1909, during its first Paris season. Based on a story by the French poet and novelist Théophile Gautier, it recounts the tale of an Oriental femme fatale who seduces a young nobleman on the eve of his marriage, demanding his life as payment for her favors. It was in this ballet that Ida Rubinstein made her first stage appearance. She was carried on stage in a sarcophagus by six bearers, accompanied by a retinue of musicians and slaves and swathed in veils, like a mummy. These veils were stripped away one by one in a dramatic and, for the era, quite daring scene. Chiparus took the Cleopatra theme for several of his sculptures, including Cleopatra’s Vanity (plate 39), depicting Cleopatra reclining on a couch, admiring herself in a mirror held by her slave.

In 1925 a music hall version of the classical ballet L’Apres-midi d’un faune was given at the Concert Mayol, with Claude Debussy’s music. Music hall dancer’s took the roles of faun and nymphs. Even the costumes were reminiscent of those made famous by the Ballets Russes in a 1912 performance: the faun’s spotted leotard was a copy of the one first worn by Vaslav Nijinsky. The women, however, were naked from the waist up – a departure from the original production.

Many music hall dancers found that taking Russiansounding names lent them an aura of mystery and artistry. Sergine, Komarova and Korjine played at the 34

Folies Bergere, as did Tarkhanova. At the Edouard VII theater one could see the Ballets Stylises of Boris Kniaseff and Thamara Gevergeva – not to mention Mezentseva, Troutowska, and Mademoiselle Nattova.

Indeed, the music hall so successfully imitated the most spectacular elements of the Ballets Russes that one writer expressed his disillusion in these terms: ‘We had the Ballets Russes at the Théatre Sarah-Bernhardt. But the thrill was no longer there. We have become blasé about this kind of artistic emotion. The music hall does it much better and the costumes are even more opulent. And besides, the hint of scandal that used to accompany their fantastic galas is missing.”4 The line between classical and popular dance was not quite so firmly drawn as it is today. It was not uncommon for artists to work in both domains, or to make occasional incursions into one or the other. Léon Bakst designed for the popular revue “Hullo, Tango” given at the London Hippodrome in 1913. This was Bakst’s only effort at creating contemporary costumes, and the results were striking part high fashion, part fancy dress, all enhanced by Bakst’s inimitable imagination.

Chiparus borrowed and sometimes blended elements from both the Ballets Russes and the more populist music hall and cabaret. Occasionally a piece can be seen to have been directly influenced by either ballet or the music hall. Subtle clues are given by the figure’s stance.

A music hall performer would for example, present herself to the audience face front, with a trouper’s

Tera Guinob in the revue ‘Spirit of Paris’ at the Théatre de la Madeleine, the source for Vedette, from the magazine Paris plaisirs, 1924-25.

Vedette, bronze on marble base, 31 1⁄2 in. (80cm) high. Page from a catalog published by Les Neveux de J. Lehmann, Paris.

superb arrogance, as if awaiting applause that will not fail to come. In Finale (plate 76), for example, the three dancers are clearly performing for an audience, poised for applause, as is the dancer in Kora (plate 68), who wears an unusual and extravagant costume, inspired by music hall design. A classically trained dancer on the other hand, would tend to be intent on the work she is interpreting, striking more introspective, self-contained poses, as in Ayouta (plate 51). The subject of Tanara (plate 15) appears to be a classical ballet dancer by virtue of the slippers whose laces she is tying.

The appeal of the music hall was frankly erotic, unhampered by any artistic pretensions. Dancers appears on the stage partially or completely nude, and costumes were designed to be titillating. Chiparus’s

dancers are very often bare breasted, such as Delhi Dancer (plate 29), Dancer of Olynthus (plate 35), and Chain Dancer (plate 34), and in Inocation (plate 44) the dancer is wearing only a helmet and two bracelets. The source for this figure is clearly a photograph of the dancer Chrysis that appeared in the magazine Paris Music Hall.

In some instances it is quite clear that a sculpture was based on a particular dancer’s pose. Chiparus’s contemporaries Ferdinand Preiss, Otto Poertzel, and Armand Godard are known to have used certain dancers for models and to have based their figures closely on certain poses and costumes taken from the music hall. A contemporary journalist makes mention of a particular music hall dancer who “at times playing 35

CIVA

Gipsy Rhouma-je, the star of ‘L’Ermitage’, the source for Civa (plate 100), from the magazine Paris plaisirs, June 1926.

with a scarf, at times with a ball, achieves the dream silhouettes from which modern sculptors have made such pretty knick-knacks.”5 Chiparus, however, seems to have preferred to not copy outright, but to lend his figures his own interpretation, based on his imagination. His dancers are never dressed in exact copies of actual costumes, though influences can often be detected.

SPORTS The postwar society delightedly discovered sports and leisure activities. In 1936 the French government instituted the first paid vacations, offering leisure time to the working people. This led to the beginning of mass travel and tourism. Bicycling, swimming, and hiking soon became popular activities. The wealthy preferred lawn tennis, mountain climbing, skiing, and golf, all sports that encouraged mixing with others of the same class.

More often Chiparus propped up popular magazines next to him as he worked, copying poses from photographs of music hall dancers. The figuring Vedette takes its pose, as well as its clothing to a degree, from a photograph of Tera Guinob in the revue “Spirit of Paris” The pose, though not so much the costume, of Dancer with Ring (plate 86) is clearly taken from a photograph of Zoula de Boncza in the revue “Folies sur Folies” at the Folies Bergere. The pose of Civa (plate 100) can be seen in a photograph of Gipsy Rhouma-je, the star of the music hall L’Ermitage, and Old Style Dance (plate 91) is derived from a photograph of a dancer in the revue “Spask’s Ballet” at the Moulin Rouge.

36

These new leisure activities called for radically different clothing, allowing freedom of movement and revealing the body. Nineteenth-century bathing suits had been fussy affairs with collars, bows, sleeves and trimming – really just modified versions of street clothes. This changed in 1910 with the introduction of bathing suits made of clinging cotton jersey that were scandalously revealing, yet so practical that they immediately caught on.

At first it was only the upper classes who actually engaged in sports: the rest of society contented itself with the vicarious thrills of spectator sports. Competitions abounded: in 1903 crowds flocked to the roadsides to watch cyclists compete in the first Tour de France.

Zoula de Boncza in the revue ‘Folies sur Folies’ at the Folies Bergere, the source for Dancer with Ring (plate 86), from the magazine Premier album de souvenirs du Music Hall de Paris.

DANCER WITH RING

Just as in other areas of contemporary society, women no longer lagged politely behind. They took to the racquet and golf club with gusto. Suzanne Lenglen became France’s darling as she carried off tournament after tournament, finally winning at Wimbledon in 1919. Many chryselephantine sculptures, particularly those of Preiss, show the influence of the age’s enthusiasm for sports.

Although Chiparus’s subjects are for the most part

engaged in more sophisticated and exotic activities, they reflect the newfound suppleness and delight in the body’s freedom, qualities promoted by the practice and enjoyment of sports. His depictions of modern woman benefit from the new freedoms enjoyed by women of the day. Chiparus made an occasional piece directly inspired by sports; his Golfer (plate 2) shows an emancipated young woman in a loose-fitting dress holding a golf club.

37

CIVA

Gipsy Rhouma-je, the star of ‘L’Ermitage’, the source for Civa (plate 100), from the magazine Paris plaisirs, June 1926.

with a scarf, at times with a ball, achieves the dream silhouettes from which modern sculptors have made such pretty knick-knacks.”5 Chiparus, however, seems to have preferred to not copy outright, but to lend his figures his own interpretation, based on his imagination. His dancers are never dressed in exact copies of actual costumes, though influences can often be detected.

SPORTS The postwar society delightedly discovered sports and leisure activities. In 1936 the French government instituted the first paid vacations, offering leisure time to the working people. This led to the beginning of mass travel and tourism. Bicycling, swimming, and hiking soon became popular activities. The wealthy preferred lawn tennis, mountain climbing, skiing, and golf, all sports that encouraged mixing with others of the same class.

More often Chiparus propped up popular magazines next to him as he worked, copying poses from photographs of music hall dancers. The figuring Vedette takes its pose, as well as its clothing to a degree, from a photograph of Tera Guinob in the revue “Spirit of Paris” The pose, though not so much the costume, of Dancer with Ring (plate 86) is clearly taken from a photograph of Zoula de Boncza in the revue “Folies sur Folies” at the Folies Bergere. The pose of Civa (plate 100) can be seen in a photograph of Gipsy Rhouma-je, the star of the music hall L’Ermitage, and Old Style Dance (plate 91) is derived from a photograph of a dancer in the revue “Spask’s Ballet” at the Moulin Rouge.

36

These new leisure activities called for radically different clothing, allowing freedom of movement and revealing the body. Nineteenth-century bathing suits had been fussy affairs with collars, bows, sleeves and trimming – really just modified versions of street clothes. This changed in 1910 with the introduction of bathing suits made of clinging cotton jersey that were scandalously revealing, yet so practical that they immediately caught on.

At first it was only the upper classes who actually engaged in sports: the rest of society contented itself with the vicarious thrills of spectator sports. Competitions abounded: in 1903 crowds flocked to the roadsides to watch cyclists compete in the first Tour de France.

Zoula de Boncza in the revue ‘Folies sur Folies’ at the Folies Bergere, the source for Dancer with Ring (plate 86), from the magazine Premier album de souvenirs du Music Hall de Paris.

DANCER WITH RING

Just as in other areas of contemporary society, women no longer lagged politely behind. They took to the racquet and golf club with gusto. Suzanne Lenglen became France’s darling as she carried off tournament after tournament, finally winning at Wimbledon in 1919. Many chryselephantine sculptures, particularly those of Preiss, show the influence of the age’s enthusiasm for sports.

Although Chiparus’s subjects are for the most part

engaged in more sophisticated and exotic activities, they reflect the newfound suppleness and delight in the body’s freedom, qualities promoted by the practice and enjoyment of sports. His depictions of modern woman benefit from the new freedoms enjoyed by women of the day. Chiparus made an occasional piece directly inspired by sports; his Golfer (plate 2) shows an emancipated young woman in a loose-fitting dress holding a golf club.

37

PLATES

PLATES

1 HUSH Patinated and cold-painted bronze and ivory on onyx base Height: 41cm. (16 1â „4 in.)

Yasushi Hayashibara collection, Japan

2 THE GOLFER Patinated bronze and ivory on marble base Height: 40cm. (15 3â „4 in.)

Private collection 76

1 HUSH Patinated and cold-painted bronze and ivory on onyx base Height: 41cm. (16 1â „4 in.)

Yasushi Hayashibara collection, Japan

2 THE GOLFER Patinated bronze and ivory on marble base Height: 40cm. (15 3â „4 in.)

Private collection 76

3 THE SQUALL Gilt bronze and ivory on onyx base Height: 31cm. (12 1⁄4 in.)

Yasushi Hayashibara collection, Japan Other versions: 19cm. (7 1⁄2 in.) high

4 PYJAMA GIRL Polished and cold-painted bronze and ivory on marble base with bronze plaque Height: 49cm. (19 1⁄4 in.)

Nino Pernetti collection, Miami 79

3 THE SQUALL Gilt bronze and ivory on onyx base Height: 31cm. (12 1⁄4 in.)

Yasushi Hayashibara collection, Japan Other versions: 19cm. (7 1⁄2 in.) high

4 PYJAMA GIRL Polished and cold-painted bronze and ivory on marble base with bronze plaque Height: 49cm. (19 1⁄4 in.)

Nino Pernetti collection, Miami 79

5 A SLIGHT ACCIDENT Cold-painted bronze and ivory, on onyx base Height: 30cm. (11 3⁄4 in.)

Abel Guaglianone collection, Buenos Aires Other versions: 40cm. (15 3⁄4 in.) high

9 YOUNG GIRL Patinated and enameled bronze and ivory on marble base Height: 27.5cm. (10 3⁄4 in.)

Masatoshi Fukumaru collection, Japan 81

5 A SLIGHT ACCIDENT Cold-painted bronze and ivory, on onyx base Height: 30cm. (11 3⁄4 in.)

Abel Guaglianone collection, Buenos Aires Other versions: 40cm. (15 3⁄4 in.) high

9 YOUNG GIRL Patinated and enameled bronze and ivory on marble base Height: 27.5cm. (10 3⁄4 in.)

Masatoshi Fukumaru collection, Japan 81

???

THE LITTLE SAD ONE

6 INNOCENCE

Ivory on marble base Height: 17cm. (6 3⁄4 in.)

Private collection Other versions: height: 30.5cm. (12in.)

See plate 8

Patinated bronze and ivory on marble base Height: 37cm. (14 1⁄2 in.)

Shayo Gallery, New York Other versions: height: 25cm. (10in.); 20cm.

(8in.); 13cm (5in.)

8 THE LITTLE SAD ONE Patinated bronze and ivory on marble base Height: 30.5cm. (12in.)

Shayo Gallery, New York Other versions: 17cm. (6 3⁄4 in.) high 82

7 INNOCENCE Ivory on onyx base Height: 15.5cm. (6 1⁄8 in.)

Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, Richmond, gift of Sydney and Frances Lewis This is a rare all-ivory version.

83

???

THE LITTLE SAD ONE

6 INNOCENCE

Ivory on marble base Height: 17cm. (6 3⁄4 in.)

Private collection Other versions: height: 30.5cm. (12in.)

See plate 8

Patinated bronze and ivory on marble base Height: 37cm. (14 1⁄2 in.)

Shayo Gallery, New York Other versions: height: 25cm. (10in.); 20cm.

(8in.); 13cm (5in.)

8 THE LITTLE SAD ONE Patinated bronze and ivory on marble base Height: 30.5cm. (12in.)

Shayo Gallery, New York Other versions: 17cm. (6 3⁄4 in.) high 82

7 INNOCENCE Ivory on onyx base Height: 15.5cm. (6 1⁄8 in.)

Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, Richmond, gift of Sydney and Frances Lewis This is a rare all-ivory version.

83

10 ON THE BEACH Patinated and cold-painted bronze and ivory on onyx base Height: 45cm. (17 3⁄4 in.)

Felix García collection, Buenos Aires

11 INDISCREET Patinated and cold-painted bronze and ivory on onyx base Height: 39cm. (15 1⁄4 in.)

Shayo Gallery, New York Other versions: height: 31cm. (12 1⁄4 in.)

84

10 ON THE BEACH Patinated and cold-painted bronze and ivory on onyx base Height: 45cm. (17 3⁄4 in.)

Felix García collection, Buenos Aires

11 INDISCREET Patinated and cold-painted bronze and ivory on onyx base Height: 39cm. (15 1⁄4 in.)

Shayo Gallery, New York Other versions: height: 31cm. (12 1⁄4 in.)

84

13 FRIENDS FOREVER 12 LEAVING THE OPERA Patinated bronze and ivory on marble base Height: 35.5cm. (14in.)

Shayo Gallery, New York Other versions: height: 23.5cm. (9 1⁄4 in. ) 86

Patinated and cold-painted bronze and ivory on marble base Height: 29cm. (111⁄2 in.)

Antonio Amado collection, Miami Other versions: height: 64cm. (25 1⁄2 in.); 43cm. (17in.) on some versions the woman wears no earrings In 1925 the middle size of this model sold in Paris at L.N.J.L. (Lehmann Editeur) for 4,600 francs.

87

13 FRIENDS FOREVER 12 LEAVING THE OPERA Patinated bronze and ivory on marble base Height: 35.5cm. (14in.)

Shayo Gallery, New York Other versions: height: 23.5cm. (9 1⁄4 in. ) 86

Patinated and cold-painted bronze and ivory on marble base Height: 29cm. (111⁄2 in.)

Antonio Amado collection, Miami Other versions: height: 64cm. (25 1⁄2 in.); 43cm. (17in.) on some versions the woman wears no earrings In 1925 the middle size of this model sold in Paris at L.N.J.L. (Lehmann Editeur) for 4,600 francs.

87

14 BOOK LADY

15 TANARA

Patinated and cold-painted bronze and ivory on onyx base Height: 56cm. (22in.)

Private collection

Patinated and cold-painted bronze and ivory on marble base Height: 40.5cm. (16in.)

Private collection Other versions: height: 25cm. (10in.); 19cm. (71â „2 in.)

89

14 BOOK LADY

15 TANARA

Patinated and cold-painted bronze and ivory on onyx base Height: 56cm. (22in.)

Private collection

Patinated and cold-painted bronze and ivory on marble base Height: 40.5cm. (16in.)

Private collection Other versions: height: 25cm. (10in.); 19cm. (71â „2 in.)

89

16 CLÉO (BALLET DANCER) Polished bronze and ivory on onyx base Height: 46cm. (18in.)

Shayo Gallery, New York Other versions: 33cm (13in.) high 17 TANGO Patinated, cold-painted, and parcel-silvered bronze and ivory on onyx base Height: 62cm. (24 1â „2 in.)

Private collection 90

16 CLÉO (BALLET DANCER) Polished bronze and ivory on onyx base Height: 46cm. (18in.)

Shayo Gallery, New York Other versions: 33cm (13in.) high 17 TANGO Patinated, cold-painted, and parcel-silvered bronze and ivory on onyx base Height: 62cm. (24 1â „2 in.)

Private collection 90

18 TENDER PROMISES Cold-painted and parcel-silvered bronze and ivory on onyx and marble base Height: 38cm. (15in.); length: 78.5cm. (31in.)

Private collection Other versions: height: 26cm. (10 1⠄4 in.); length: 50cm. (20in.) this figure is almost identical in composition to Ferdinand Preiss’s The Bathers

19 EVERLASTING LOVE Patinated, cold-painted and parcel-gilt bronze and ivory on onyx base Height: 68.5cm. (27in.)

Private collection 92

18 TENDER PROMISES Cold-painted and parcel-silvered bronze and ivory on onyx and marble base Height: 38cm. (15in.); length: 78.5cm. (31in.)

Private collection Other versions: height: 26cm. (10 1⠄4 in.); length: 50cm. (20in.) this figure is almost identical in composition to Ferdinand Preiss’s The Bathers

19 EVERLASTING LOVE Patinated, cold-painted and parcel-gilt bronze and ivory on onyx base Height: 68.5cm. (27in.)

Private collection 92