# The Illustrators of Montmartre/Chapter 10

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J. L. FORAIN
THE collection of two hundred and fifty sketches, published in book form under the title "La Comédie Parisienne," at once established Forain as a firm favourite both with the public and with artists.
It could not well have been otherwise. For these tender, graceful, little sketches touching on the private life and foibles of dancers, bankers, lawyers and others, appealed to the risible faculties and the sympathies of all Parisians; while artists admired the delicacy of touch and apparent facility with which the little scenes were "flicked in," The expression "apparent facility" is purposely employed; for despite the appearance of careless ease of execution conveyed by the slightness of these sketches, those who have seen the artist at work know that for each sketch presented to the public three or four have been rejected by their author as unsatisfactory, ​A very large proportion of the drawings in "La Comédie Parisienne," treat of matters to which it is quite customary to refer in French publications, but which in England are discreetly relegated to the confidential whisper of intimates; so that it is rather difficult here to give specimens of the delicate wit displayed therein, — lest it should be classed as indelicate wit, The standard of delicacy topples over at such very different angles in England and on the Continent.
Whatever the subject treated, however, one is struck by the keen observation these drawings display, the requisite movement or attitude being perfectly rendered with the minimum number of lines. They are snap-shots of propitious moments; but taken by an artist's eye in place of a photographic lens, and an artist's science to display what is necessary and to discard what is unnecessary for the illustration of the point at issue,
The drawings here and there reflect the touch of melancholy in the author's nature, as well as his caustic wit.
A charming and sympathetic drawing is that at the working man playing with his crooning babe, while the mother, who is getting supper ready, says to her husband "Ah! wouldn't you be stunning, if you'd only give up drinking." In another drawing a poor woman says to her drunken husband "Aren't you ashamed to be in this state on a Tuesday?" How telling too the sketch of the rascally picture ​dealer who bursts in on the famishing artist and his starving wife and baby, and says — "I must have three Corots and a Diaz within six days — Madame, make him work!"
Then there is another delightful artist subject. The landlord breaks in on poor hard-working Pinceau. "Sir, you've made me call twenty times — you owe me seven quarters' rent, I tell you I've had enough of it!" "Gracious — is that all you've got to think about then," is the cool reply.
How beautiful in its simplicity and how exquisitely the curt legend "—— Rothschild," fits that drawing of the little ballet dancer who whispers the portentous name into the ear of her sister coryphée, the while the moneyed man behind the scenes passes them.
Once more, look at the husband stupefied at the bill which accompanies the host of packages in the midst of which he and his wife are standing. "What, what! two thousand seven hundred and fifty-three francs, forty five centimes! and all that 'so as to go away to the seaside for three weeks!" — "Well, yes, you are right, my dear, I will send back one of the umbrellas!"
These drawings are almost all executed with a thin, pin-point pen line, of even thickness throughout, and with flat tones of shading added by means of mechanically engraved dots. Forain, Vogel, and Willette, although their methods differ, are among the few ​who now illustrate with such faint lines and aim at such fragile effects.
A collection in book form of his political and topical illustrations, which had appeared in Le Figaro were republished under the title "Doux Pays."
The number of L' Album devoted to Forain contains able sketches, done in wash and chalk, which are stronger in effect, although incomplete looking; and bear the impress of having been dashed off at great speed while the inspiration lasted. A very subtle drawing of the nude, entitled, The Tub, however, is included in the number, as well as some strongly indicated work in colour.
Forain's work has been widely published; we have seen it in Nous, Vous, Eux, in Le Figaro, in Les Femmes, il n'y a qu' ça, Le Courrier Français, L' Indiscret, Le Rire, in L' Assiette au Beurre, in The Studio, and elsewhere.
He has done bold poster work, Le Salon du Cycle, La Parisienne du Siécle, &c.; and he did a series of splendid up-to-date designs for a mosaic frieze, which was inserted in the front of a boulevard restaurant some few years back.
To Le Rire he has been a pillar of strength; and this journal has called forth some of his best efforts, generally drawn in with crayon or brush, and completed with a wash of two or three such faint colours as grey-green and pale brick-colour, being ​treated frankly as sketches and nothing more. Yet how amply complete is such a drawing as that of the little powdered "cocotte" in the black hat receiving the last touches to her toilette from her maid, while her vicious, bony, mother waits impatiently to hurry her off to the evening's rendez-vous. Another fine drawing culled from the same source introduces us to a squat lady sculptor, modelling from a beautiful nude female model, The shapeless sculptor cries out, "There! you're posing so badly that I shall have to finish it from myself — before the glass."
An exhibition of Forain's work, which was held on the Eiffel Tower in 1890 or 1891, under the auspices of the Courrier Français, achieved for the artist a great success; although he had a terrible struggle at the outset of his career, even at one time appealing to Renouard to get him a job to draw anything, — "anything, fashion plates, or never mind whatsoever."
Forain is yet another past habitué of the Montmartre "Café des Hydropathes" (which later developed into the "Chat Noir") who has achieved fame and riches. He now lives in a splendid mansion in one of the most fashionable quarters of Paris, immersed as ever in his studies, and taking up sculpture as a relaxation, He works in a vast, untidy studio amidst an astounding litter of studies and papers, from which he but occasionally tears himself for a rapid spin in his beloved motor-car,