Saint John
Luxembourg, Paris
IDRAC
Mercury inventing the Caduceus
Luxembourg, Paris
From these illustrations it will be plain that the whole of the French academical school inclines to sacrifice too much to the graces. Aided by an almost perfect technique, its masters have little difficulty in securing their one aim—abstract beauty. But they fail to avoid showing in their marbles and bronzes a marked lifelessness obviously due to the adoption of a foreign convention. In these days, the French sculptor does not follow Canova. He forms his style upon semi-Italian, semi-Greek lines, laid down by an entity—the École des Beaux Arts.
For this reason, it is no coincidence that the two foremost sculptors in France not only failed to gain anything from the École des Beaux Arts, but can actually trace their supreme position to this very fact. Jules Dalou succeeded in securing admission to the École’s classes, but agreed that “in the end they did him no good.” Rodin actually sat for the entrance examination three times. On each occasion he failed to persuade the authorities that his talent was worth fostering. Had the École des Beaux Arts succeeded in dragging these two men into their all-enfolding net, the world would certainly be the poorer by the very qualities which give the sculpture of Dalou and Rodin its unique value.
Of the two, Jules Dalou approaches most closely to the academic ideal. He is the link between the École des Beaux Arts and Rodin. The coupling of the two names must not be taken to suggest any close similarity between the two men. In his general view of the world, Dalou is far more akin to his master, Carpeaux, than he is to Rodin. The historical connection between Dalou and his more famous contemporary arises from the evidence of a revolt against the high conventionalism of the academic school to be found in his work. Moreover, like Rodin’s, Dalou’s figures never suggest the model; on the contrary, they are utterly unlike those of the “realists,” who also oppose the teachings of the École des Beaux Arts. This can be seen in such a work as Dalou’s great group—“The Triumph of Silenus,” in the Jardin du Luxembourg. The statue has the exuberant strength, the irresistible gusto for the living flesh, of a Rubens painting.
Dalou’s sculpture has a peculiar interest for Englishmen. He is perhaps better known in England than any other French sculptor. He had to fly from Paris after the Commune, owing to having accepted the Curatorship of the Louvre during the troublous times. In the course of his eight years exile in England, he became professor of sculpture at South Kensington. Dalou was, throughout his career, a man of strenuous purpose, able and willing to drive home the ideals which he had made his own. It would be difficult to exaggerate the influence of his instruction and example upon the younger school of English sculptors.
JULES DALOU