Monday, January 2, 2023

The Posing of the Model

School of Fontainebleau
Figure in Defeat
16th century
drawing
Musée du Louvre

Sébastien Bourdon
Académie
ca. 1640
drawing
Musée du Louvre

Simon Vouet
Académie
before 1649
drawing
Musée du Louvre

Jacob Van Loo
Figure Study
before 1670
drawing
Musée du Louvre

Louis Boullogne the Younger
Académie
1690
drawing
Musée du Louvre

François Lemoyne
Académie
ca. 1720
drawing
Musée du Louvre

Charles-Joseph Natoire
Académie
ca. 1725
drawing
Musée du Louvre

Jean-Baptiste-Henri Deshays
Académie
ca. 1750
drawing
Musée du Louvre

Carle Vanloo
Académie
before 1765
drawing
Musée du Louvre

attributed to Carle Vanloo
Académie
before 1765
drawing
Musée du Louvre

Nicolas-Bernard Lépicié
Académie
before 1784
drawing
Musée du Louvre

Nicolas-Bernard Lépicié
Académie
before 1784
drawing
Musée du Louvre

Elie Delaunay
Académie
ca. 1850
drawing
Musée d'Orsay, Paris

Pierre Puvis de Chavannes
Académie
ca. 1855-60
drawing
Musée d'Orsay, Paris

Édouard Vuillard
Académie
ca. 1885-88
drawing
Musée du Louvre

"These seven years drawing after the model at the Academy, do you consider them well spent, and would you like to know what I think about them?  It's here, during these seven cruel and difficult years, that one's draftsmanship becomes mannered.  All these studied, artificial, carefully arranged academic poses, all these movements coldly and ineptly imitated by some poor devil, and always the same poor devil, who's paid to appear, undress, and let himself be manipulated by a professor three times a week, what do they have in common with postures and movements in nature?  . . .  This man who begs, prays, sleeps, reflects, and faints upon request, what does he have in common with a peasant stretched out on the ground from fatigue, with a philosopher meditating at his fireside, with a suffocating man who faints in the crowd?  . . .  What an art, and a great one, is the posing of the model; one need only observe how proud of it is Monsieur le Professeur.  No need to fear that he might say to the poor salaried devil, my friend, strike a pose on your own, do what you like.  Rather than allow him to assume a simple natural posture, he much prefers to assign him some eccentric one.  And currently one has no choice but to put up with this.  A hundred times I've been tempted to say to young students I encountered on their way to the Louvre with their portfolios under their arms: My friends, how long is it you've been drawing there?  Two years?  Why, that's too long.  Leave this shop of mannered tics."

– Denis Diderot, from Notes on Painting (1765), translated by John Goodman