| It must be admitted: the city of Nantes has a bad reputation. Our grandmothers laughed in their cradles, less than a century ago, which were still chased by the seas,
with cannon shots, the slave traders from Nantes. They were the last, obstinate, harsh, irreducible. Corsairs, pirates, contractors: these are very damaging family memories. You
won't prevent our honest pockets from making small mouths.
However, when they returned home, these ebony merchants, who robbed each other of their cargoes by dint of grapeshot on the coast of Africa, sat down in honours, built hotels and sternly brooded over a pious family, under their breath.
put to the laws, faithful to the throne. Famous architects raised their balconies above the port. Inside we
spared neither the mahogany nor the carvings. Watteau, Butcher,
Natoire painted the trumeaux. Thus was scattered the gold of traffic.
Today they buy sixty horses, they scar the roads; or else, won over by the American madness, you make money without breathing, until you tumble. The grand-nephews of
sharks of the Nantes river have something to hold on to! Let's not exaggerate. Some still know the price of the rests that ennoble a career and the secret joys that artists spare
in intimacy to those whose hearts sound like crystal.
Before the war, the “Society of Friends of the Arts” had taken the initiative of organizing an annual painting exhibition to which, without distinction, all artists were invited. Commendable eclecticism! Long before fame, Vuillard, Roussel, Simon, Maurice Denis, Bonnard exhibited in Nantes. Amateurs discovered themselves in the frequentation of painters and recruited there the nucleus of a collection which they later expanded to the Salon des Indépendants.
The entire work of Lepère, so supple, so varied, is housed in the boxes of a Nantes resident and next to the wall with Cazin, Fantin-Latour, Marie Laurencin, Laboureur. Here, in this other, is a marvelous portrait of Manet, pastel both bold and refined; Maurice Denis near Simon, Dethomas, Guérin, Hélène Dufau. Further on you will find the sensitive and rhythmic Vallotton, Luce, Cross, Ottmann, Deltombe. Here, in the heart of a park, hide Espagnat, Diriks, a quiet fresco of Déziré “the Golden Age”. There, Brunelleschi, Van Coppenole, Domergue-Lagarde, Ekegardh. And please cross the bridges, venturing across the Loire to the suburb where this wise and courteous man has set up his retirement, you will be welcomed by an elite company: Ménard, Lebasque, Aman-Jean, Henri Martin, Lemordant, Carrière, Flandrin...
I pass! A brilliant collection of Roussel, Zak, Marinot, Bernard Naudin, Bartholomé, Rodin... Excuse my
memoir that quotes at random, all pell-mell!... But the war closed the doors on the cabinets of paintings. The care is elsewhere; bereavement at home. A man of faith arises who
relieves sadness, shakes sleep: the painter Deltombe
founds an avant-garde review in Nantes: “la Gerbe”. Of the
Bois de Colin, Morin-Jean, A.-M. Martin adorn his text, and also these drawings full of accent with which Louise Hervieu reinforces her harmonious prose.
Finally, to accelerate the momentum, crown the effort, Nantes — and I believe it is the first city in France to set a good example — has just created a “Société d’initiative et de
Artistic documents”. The very fine and eloquent M. Veil, assistant to the Beaux-Arts, was the promoter. The municipality
subsidize it. Its members bring the mite or the present according to their resources; and she does not blush to ask for donations to artists. Because, if it claims to inform the city of original artistic movements, this Society proposes above all to constitute in the Museum a room of modern, young, living painting. Admit that all this is not too bad for
sellers? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------
p.32 DRAWING BY PIERRE GIRIEUD
|