New-York tribune., 1922-09-24
By Royal Cortissoz


OF Leon Bonnat in a current perspec-
tive. When his death was reported
from Paris the other day it is probable
that the news was received in some
quarters with absolute indifference.
We can imagine the comment: ooh,
bonnat! His painting was as hard as
nails. wasn't it?' 1t was, no doubt as
hard as nails. But in certain other
quarters we can imagine another COM
ment: "Oh, Bonnatl Well, we owed
him lot" And the second, more SYM
pathetic observation gives US, perhaps
the safer clew.
He was born an almost Incredibly
long time ago, in 1888, at Bayonne,
that delightful little town which lies
In the south Of France, close to the
Spanish border. His earlier years were
spent in Spain itself, and he never for
got his old environment. I remember
reproducing an etched portrait of Gam
BETA, attributed to Bonnat. Our mu-
tual friend, the late Samuel P. Avery.
asked his opinion of it. Repudiating
the plate, he declared, as Avery wrote
me. that he would "swear to it on the
point Of his dagger" That is an an
cient Basque formula. Southern emo
tions ran through his veins. Southern
habits and ideas were imbedded in his
nature. With Bayonne he had a Pc
culiar tie. Besides loving it as his
birthplace, he was grateful to the mu-
nicipality, which had befriended him
in his youth, sending him to Paris to
get his artistic education. He studied
there under Leon Cogniet, whose por-
trait he afterward painted. The cam
vas hangs in the Luxembourg, a nota-
Bile bit of realism, with one of the
best modelled heads in modern French
portraiture.
1t Is not with Cogniet's academic in
huence, however, that you have first to
reckon in trayersing the life of Bonnat.
In Spain he had seen the pictures of
Ribera and their bold effects of light
and shade enthralled him. One Of the
souvenirs Of an early period that he
spent in Italy is called "Ribera in
Rome" charming composition in
which we see the old master on the
steps Of a church, drawing the monks
who issue from the portal 1t is a
warm, broadly conceived and broadly
painted work. For several years Bonnat
produced that kind of canvas. He used
! the familiar models that hang about
the Scala di Spagna, studio types, otter
factitiously picturesque. But theil
artificiality is minimzed under his
brush. He was too keen upon the busi-
ness Of painting, upon the joys of tech
nique, for the theatricality and senti
ment in which he dealt to quench his
essential spirit. Then he turned from
dressedup contadini to human beings
OF consequence, took to painting por.
traits, and got into his stride.
1t was the stride of a sterling maste,
of his craft. His American disciples
could testify to this. Blashfield was
one of them, back in the SOS. Their
and later a good many Of our mer
sought him out-Walter Gay, II. Sid
dons Mowbray, William A. Coffin, II
o. Walker, R. F. Zogbaum, C. Y. Turner
and others. What they va1ued him fol
was his discipline, his induction OF
them into the art Of painting as an art
in which it is important to play the
game, to keep sound workmanship ir
the foreground. How old-fashioned
that sounds to-day! 1t is fashionable
now to sacrifice everything to individu-
ality--forgetting that it all depends
upon the intrinsic value of the individ-
ual. Bonnat knew better. He realized
the Importance of design, of drawing;
in word, of technique. He had indi-
viduality himself, but it was not of the
ret.ellious order.
He was in the Salon and, in sense,
of it, yet he was not exactly a Salon
nier. That is to say, he had compare
lively little to do with the making of
that kind of huge pictorial machine"
which is so characteristic Of the Salon.
His big circular ceiling, "The Triumph
of Art" which he painted for the H6-
tel de Vile, is undoubtedly an academic
composition. The torch-bearing, haloed
figure of art, mounted on a winged
white horse, is centred after the aE-
proved mode of the traditional decora-
tors. But there is something robust