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![]() | Delacroix by Barthelemy Jobert ISBN-10: 9780691004181 ISBN-10: 0-691-00418-8 ISBN-13: 9780691004181 ISBN-13: 978-0-691-00418-1 Hardcover 1998-09-28 Princeton University Press Find Lowest Price | |
Editorials | ||
Amazon.com A Sorbonne professor and curator of a Delacroix exhibit at the Bibliothèque Nationale gives readers a new, lucid, and well-illustrated study of this painter--a familiar name who is still not widely understood or popular. Eugène Delacroix (1798-1863), so very much tied to the history of his time, created vast canvases using that history as allegory. Therefore, he must suffer in appreciation today, when so few museumgoers have the cultural baggage they possessed a century and a half ago. So, huge canvases like The Death of Sardanapalus and The Murder of the Bishop of Liege must mean less to contemporary viewers, just as another painting, Tasso in the Hospital of Saint Anna, was more meaningful to a viewing public who had actually read the work of Torquato Tasso, author of Gerusalemme Liberata. However, the good reproductions in this book and Barthelmy Jobert's cogent analyses go far to underline Delacroix's inspiration from previous artists like Michelangelo, and his strong grasp of architecture. Princeton University Press has done a good production job on this title, although they are scandalously scant when it comes to crediting the translators, Terry Grabar and Alexandra Bonfante-Warren (who did a clear job of translating from the original French, but are mentioned only in minuscule print on the copyright page). Even the author must have considered this unchivalrous, for he thanked the translators in his own fine-print acknowledgements at the end of the book. Apart from this detail, Jobert's Delacroix in English is a bravura effort and a very welcome and attractive addition to any bookshelf of 19th-century European art. --Benjamin Ivry | ||
Product Description Responding to resurgent interest in nineteenth-century French painting--with its rich connections to revolutionary politics, exoticism, romance, and nationalism--Barthélémy Jobert offers this long-awaited, first comprehensive book on one of the period's greatest and most elusive artists: Eugtne Delacroix (1798-1863). This solitary genius produced stormy, romantic works like The Death of Sardanapalus and then turned to more classically inspired paintings, such as Liberty Leading the People--a fact that has never been fully explained. In this visually compelling tribute to the artist, however, Jobert explores the driving inner tensions and contradictions behind both Delacroix's life and work. Jobert not only re-creates the political and cultural arenas in which Delacroix thrived, but also allows readers a rare opportunity to appreciate the full range of his artistic production. Delacroix's large canvases, decorative cycles, watercolors, and engravings, which are widely dispersed throughout the world, are beautifully represented here in 231 color plates. The book is timed to commemorate the bicentenary of Delacroix's birth. Traditionally described as an artistic loner, Delacroix profoundly influenced later painters such as Cézanne and Picasso. An image of the artist as a man of his times comes to light, however, as Jobert reveals the ways in which Delacroix successfully navigated a career within the Salon system and through government commissions. Delacroix socialized with George Sand and Victor Hugo, engaged Baudelaire and Gauthier in intense philosophical discussions about art, and maintained a lively interaction with the press. As a passionate artist who sought to make money in a politically volatile climate, Delacroix managed to create works that transcended the ideology of his government connections. Delacroix's famous trip to Morocco, which had the ironic outcome of directing his attention away from Romanticism and back toward his classical roots, is analyzed in detail. Considering both Delacroix's training and sources of inspiration, Jobert shows how the Moroccan journey led the artist to a balanced approach to his art: the classical tradition he had never totally abandoned was permanently combined with the Romanticism of his youth. Over the long span of his career, Delacroix responded to the literary fascination with Orientalism, the politics of the Restoration and French imperialism, and popular interest in travel and documentation. He painted everything from sweeping epic tales to intimate interiors. Only now has the scope and scale of Delacroix's oeuvre come to life in a detailed and up-to-date account for the specialist and general reader alike. | ||
Reviews | ||
The fellowship of the colors We are lucky that so much of DELACROIX's art is still around, lightly spread throughout the world: the only lost works are "Cardinal Richelieu saying mass" during the sack of the Palais Royal in 1848, the decoration of the Salon de la Paix at the Paris Hotel de Ville during the Commune, and "Justinian drafting his laws" during the fire at the Conseil d'Etat in the Palais d'Orsay in 1871. Taken in by anything new that the paint suppliers were selling, DELACROIX made bad choices in canvas and paints: the Romantic "Battle of Nancy," the Classical "Boissy d'Anglas at the National Convention," and the exotic "Moroccan chieftain receiving tribute" suffered from using bitumen, just as "Barque of Dante" has from going over fresh spots. Yet he thought of painting as storytelling with the richly vigorous colors of Peter Paul Rubens and of Paolo Veronese's "St Barnabas healing the sick." He was the only great Western artist to leave masses of manuscripts, as journals, letters and published articles, so we can walk our way through his sketches and writings to the finished products of the master colorist of people, landscapes, buildings, and animals: "Louis-Auguste Schwiter" standing, as his only full-length portrait, inspired by Thomas Gainsborough and Joshua Reynolds; "Charles de Verninac," in two Thomas Lawrence-style expressive bust portraits, with a carefully worked face, large brushstrokes, sketchy background clothes, and subtly agreeing colors; and his last, "Alfred Bruyas," with a Hamlet-like head melancholic, meditative and languid in a harmony of greens, browns and blacks. He was also a master landscapist of few painted landscapes, such as "Banks of the river Sebou," his only salon-shown landscape; "Sea at Dieppe," Impressionist in subject and technique; and "Still life with lobsters," with John Constable-type smooth varnish obviously brushstroked and with a David Wilkie-type lobster right out of "Chelsea prisoners reading the gazette of the battle of Waterloo." But most of his landscapes backgrounded his historytellings, such as "Natchez" and "Ovid among the Scythians": his history style of adding expressiveness and framing scenes was Richard Parkes Bonington-like in being more entertaining and picturesque than heroic, such as in "Henri III at the deathbed of his favorite mistress, Marie de Cleves" and with "Henri IV courting Gabrielle d'Estrees" and in seeming neartransparent watercolor-like by varnish made with copal, such as in the richly colored "Charles VI and Odette de Champdivers" and "Louis d'Orleans showing his mistress Odette de Champdivers." His building decorations harmonized balanced colors with finely drafted figures while getting architecture, light and paint to work together: at the Palais du Luxembourg's cupola harmonious light and vigorous colors dealt with the architecture by background landscape in blues and greens, central sky cloud-filled, and figures fleshtoned against bright reds, blues, greens, ochers, oranges, and whites; and at the Salon du Roi half-domes lighted figures clustered on the bottom as well as the landscapes and skies topwards in intense blues and greens. My sculptress mother used to say, and my artist sister keeps on saying, that artists see the world first in blacks and whites, with perfect examples in the DELACROIX tigers, lions, and horses changed into blacks, grays, and whites particularly showing color mastery. In fact, the author describes these animals as Romanticized in character and power by the very play of color and matter: Theodore Gericault- and Antoine-Jean Gros-influenced "Wild horse," as my special favorite; "Tam O'Shanter" rapidly brushstroked into a horizontally elongated horse, rider and witch in the "Derby at Epsom" style of Gericault; and "Royal tiger" and "Lion of the Atlas," as his two most successful lithographs, along with the dramatically white counterpointed "Macbeth and the witches" lithograph haloing the former and turning the latter into "phantoms of obscurity." So Barthelemy Jobert's is the book to read, in this beautifully clear, masterful English translation: he owns up to only talking about fitting DELACROIX into what went before, and I wish that he would write a sequel fitting the artist into what came after. Any readers looking for comparison reading might find helpful and interesting DELACROIX: THE LATE WORK, Loys Delteil's EUGENE DELACROIX, EUGENE DELACROIX: SELECTED LETTERS, 1813-1863, Michele Hannoosh's PAINTING AND THE JOURNAL OF EUGENE DELACROIX, Lee Johnson's DELACROIX PASTELS, and Editor Beth Segal Wright's THE CAMBRIDGE COMPANION TO DELACROIX. | ||