The Dupuyer acantha. [volume] (Dupuyer, Mont.) 1894-1904, 1899-01-12
ART IN GAY PARIS.
GIRL STUDENT EXPLAINS WHY
SHE LIKES THE LIFE.
rhc People Are More CordIaI-Thcre's
More Red Blood in IL AII-Delecleuse's
Atelier and Mime. EtIenne's Little
one House-Crticlsm Day. 3

70 Saiu an art SluueuI girl VINO Hdu
lust come back. There was that note
n her voice as who would say: do
! like it on earth as well as | do in
heaven?" mo, of course 1 don't. I've
been homesick ever since l left Paris.
The League is a very nice place in its
way, but how any one can love the
League In its present embellished con-
dftion is beyond me-" But why
don't you like it?' persisted one of the
girls, who had never been to- Paris,
says the New York Commercial Adver-
tiser. The first speaker thought a
moment. well, in the first place"
she said, there is all the difference
between home and a hotel-between
our little studios in the Latin quarter
and one of your caravansarles Of art
school here. The studious there have
80 much character. You love them for
the weather-beaten look. An art
school can be just as good a school
In a spick and span new building, but
I'm philistine enough to like pictur-
esqueness. Take Carlaroni's on Mon
day morning. Go through a narrow
passage and 0 come into a little
courtyard all surrounded by studios.
You go down steps and get to one of
them and up another flight of outdoor
steps for another, and in behind is a
whole labyrinth of staircases and
studios. There are forlorn and bat
tered casts Of gods and goddesses lying
a IsnIInH fbA xynr1 Al 1kaol4-- ont
from their furnished w~hitenesses are
the Italian models, in their bright
clothes, and dark-eyed, handsome men
n boys and women, with their gay
shawls, waiting around for a pose"
And l suppose you thrill at the
thought of walking where Trilby's
sacred feet had trod?" shifted one of
the girls. '"Trilby was before my
day. answered the other, dryly. Then
she went on: tits the intense personal
interest one takes in everything that
makes it so pleasant. You love or
hate the Massacre, and there are bitter
factions among the girls and warm
friendships. It's childish, if you like,
to care for such things. But there's
so much more red blood in 1t all. It's
gayer, too. l remember at Dele
cleuse's a harp and two violins used TO
come every Thursday. Almost the
whole school turned out into the little
gravelly courtyard and danced. 70
wind up with the musicians played a
cachucha, and a certain little Ameri-
can girl danced a Spanish dance she
had picked up heaven knows where.
That always ended the performance.
Nobody who ever worked. in the Aca-
demie Delecleuse can forget Dellie.
Some of the sniffy girls fresh from the
League didn't like it there, I believe.
But we Americans loved him. I've
never known any one half so good.
And Nine. Etienne in her little house
built into the wall where we got our
rolls and coffee! When I returned
after two years l felt rather shy about
going back there. 1 was afraid no one
would remember me. But Nine. Eli
enne threw her hands in the air.
ITEMS! ITEMS! Mademoiselle Marie
has returned. 1t is M. Delecleuse who
will be glad to see you and Mini. EN-
brasse mademoiselle, Mini, ct va voir
81 monsieur est dams l'atelier. Where
have you been all this time, Mademoi-
selle Marie?" And then followed de-
tails. How Mini had had her first
communion, and how the kitten had
died, and the new ones were black and
white, and which of the old girls were
back; and then appeared M. Delecleuse
himself and welcomed me heartily. 1t
was like the return of the prodigal.
It's no wonder I love it there. They
are so kind, all the people. and they
have so much personality. None of
us can forget Nine. Etienne or M. Fol
net, the color merchant, or Antonio
at Carlaroni's. Good-natured Antonio.
so dirty and so dishonest and obliging
as the day was long! Another mark
ed difference is criticism day. It's
rather a day of wrath in both coun-
tries. In a French studio when the
master comes into the room you can
hear a pin drop. Absolute silence ex-
cept for the master, who expresses his
opinion in no measured terms" The
masters at the League are severe
enough" said one of the other girls,
"Oh, yes, but when l first got back
used to pray that some one would
storm at me or swear a little, It's
so much more bracing. The difference
is this; After a bad criticism here one
feels that there is no more use in life,
There, no matter what has been said.
one feels that if n worked very hard
day one might amount to some
thing. The red tape bothers one so
the freedom of a Paris studio.
When you go in at the League there
are a row of terrifying officials and you
have to fill out blanks and present
drawings ard tell your name and all
your addresses and where you've
worked and where you want to work.
| was surprised that 1 was not asked
for a certificate of birth or a marriage
certificate or something" 'Well how
do you do it over there?" asked the
other girls. "Oh, you go to the school
and say, Monsieur, l desire to work in
your school, and the man in charge
the school says: Certainly, madem-
Oiselle,' and you go in and scraDe
around for a place and that's an end.
There are no grades; the beginners and
advanced students all work to-
in the same room. Anyway,
there are too many marble stairs at
he League she concluded. "The