| The crisis that French art has just gone through has not resolved itself, and on its own - Events, incidentally incidental, have contributed to this.
Just as the finishing generation of the Cottets, of the Lucien Simon, found in nature and the natives of Brittany a stimulant capable of wresting them from the universal, shamelessness of which French painting, in their youthful years was dying (.. .) After so many others who have been touched by this grace, Girieud, in turn, has experienced the charm of Provence, and it is one more healing to the credit of this luminous and serene land. He brought back fifty or so landscapes, solidly written and finely nuanced, which he exhibited at the Weill gallery, rue Lafitte, 46. The mountains of the Maures and those of the Esterel provided him with numerous motifs in which the silver green of the he olive tree mingles with the darker greenery of pines, yew trees and beech trees, where heights sometimes steep and sometimes mameloned surround valleys of Virgilian poetry and nobility. He added to these landscapes vigorously constructed nudes and his own effigy modeled with a rigorous and lively scruple. Let us salute this renewal and congratulate the artist for this cure so happily carried out in the land of the sun. |