Bernard Boutet de Monvel, though not yet thirty, is already recognized as a leader, whether he wishes it or not, forming a school of disciples. His art, characterized by tact, measure, and a distinctly French elegance, sets him apart and places him at the forefront of a new movement concerned with severe composition and quiet harmony.
A New School of Elegance
A few weeks ago, the jury of the Salon d'Automne was at work in the Grand Palais. An endless stream of blue and violet canvases passed rapidly before their tired eyes. Petit-point landscapes were followed by plethoric apples rolling across a tablecloth with Cézanne-like folds. Pure indigos were used for shadows, and cadmiums for light.
Nude figures also appeared, figures we once admired in Gauguin's work but which now bore us when the master's clumsy and shameless imitators steal them from him. There were also Cathedrals in the style of Monet, Banks of the Loing in the style of Sisley, Orchards in the style of Pissarro, and portraits that were either Mexican or Kanak.
Suddenly, a large painting appeared, depicting a young man in pearl-grey trousers and patent leather boots, conversing on a floral sofa with a pretty lady in a crinoline. A "Fauve" juror, a man of considerable talent, exclaimed: "Ah! Here is a painting by a man of the world... Another student of Bernard Boutet de Monvel!"
This exclamation is worth remembering. Bernard Boutet de Monvel, who is not yet thirty, is already designated as a leader, whether he wishes it or not, forming a school of disciples. The more outrageous talents, who sometimes confuse energy with brutality, classify him with a hint of irritation or envy among the "people of the world."
You can be sure they do not see him as a society painter. Certainly not. The creator of the virile portrait that triumphed last year at the Société Nationale has nothing in common with the producers of society effigies who receive their flighty clientele in their lavish studios in the Parc Monceau; even the most rabid Fauves know and proclaim this.
