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Jocelyn Murphy

Sculpting Elusive Animal Consciousness: A Monument to Barye

Sculpting Elusive Animal Consciousness: A Monument to Barye

Man has forever been mesmerized by the vast animal kingdom. One man, fascinated with the sublime potential of nature’s inhabitants since birth[1], was Antoine Louis Barye. Barye’s Running African Elephant (c. 1830) (Fig 1.) demonstrates the artist’s aptitude for highly naturalistic yet expressive animal sculpture. Though many of his most well known works are of animals engaged in combat or simple predator or prey relationships, some of his subjects occasionally escape such brutal depiction. Two animals, which occasionally have this good fortune, are horses and elephants; Barye sculpts both horses and elephants with a quiet consciousness characterized by emotions more sophisticated than fear or aggression. Though his horse and elephant sculpture is not always imbued with elevated consciousness, a rich history of debate concerning the animal soul, enthusiastic observation at the Menagerie du Jardin des Plantes, potential exposure to the utility of exotic animals in French society, and the creatures’ consent to complete domestic work, may have provoked Barye’s anthropomorphic renderings.

(Fig.1) Antoine Louis Barye, Running African Elephant, c. 1830. Bronze with green and reddish-brown patina, 13.7 x 20.2 x 10.2cm. Smith College Museum of Art.
(Fig.1) Antoine Louis Barye, Running African Elephant, c. 1830. Bronze with green and reddish-brown patina, 13.7 x 20.2 x 10.2cm. Smith College Museum of Art.

Consciousness is not guaranteed in Barye’s equine and pachyderm subjects. Works like Elephant Killing a Tiger (c. 19th century) (Fig.2) and Horse Attacked by a Lion, (c. 1833) (Fig.3) place these animals firmly in their kingdom.

(Fig.2) Antoine Louis Barye, Elephant Killing a Tiger, 19th century. Yellow bronze with green varnish patina, 21.2 x 35.5 cm. Walters Art Museum, Baltimore.
(Fig.2) Antoine Louis Barye, Elephant Killing a Tiger, 19th century. Yellow bronze with green varnish patina, 21.2 x 35.5 cm. Walters Art Museum, Baltimore.
(Fig.3) Antoine Louis Barye, Horse Attacked by a Lion, 1833. Bronze (sand-cast in sections), chemical patina, 40.3 cm. Walters Art Museum, Baltimore.
(Fig.3) Antoine Louis Barye, Horse Attacked by a Lion, 1833. Bronze (sand-cast in sections), chemical patina, 40.3 cm. Walters Art Museum, Baltimore.

In these sculptures, the elephant shows his ability to brutally smear an overly ambitious tiger into the hard ground, and the horse leaps petrified into the air only to be anchored by several fierce lions. The forms are tense and dramatic with sharp angles, twisting muscles, and manipulated space. For example, in Elephant Killing a Tiger the elephant’s right shoulder flexes and smashes into viscera and stone narrowing the negative space between them into a tight crack. Similarly, in Horse Attacked by a Lion, the horse jackknifes up intensely; forearms and hawks stiff with fear, paw desperately into hopeless, empty space. In each case, the creatures forfeit their potential consciousness to their base psychological responses: fight or flight.

While horses and elephants clearly participate in typical primitive animal behavior, they also occasionally seem capable of higher communication. For this reason, the fate and quality of their souls has been the subject of philosophical debate for hundreds of years. French philosopher, Descartes, of the seventeenth century, felt that animals functioned without reason or thought, but on a strict track of physiognomic reactions. He claimed, “the animal body operated without the guidance of any non-corporeal principle. Indeed, a machine in the shape of an animal would be indistinguishable from the beast itself.”[2] Descartes’ disbelief in the animal soul and rational thought extended even to the idea that animals could not evaluate sensation (which lead to some heinous live dissections)[3]. By 1747, Descartes’ theory of animal automatism was generally irrelevant.

Though many agreed that Descartes was not correct, the status of animals’ souls and reason was not at all clear. In the early eighteenth century, Pierre Bayle’s theory that “all souls, including those of beasts, are by nature spiritual, yet held that only man’s soul is immortal”[4] gained traction. This entailed that animals had a temporary soul that lasted their earthly duration and of course, had the capability for sensation. Around the same time period, De Crousaz contributed to this idea with the theory that animals had,

“an inferior degree of thought not accompanied by immortality… Animals have not  reflection, he asserted, no clear and distinct ideas, no faculty of comparing ideas, but they do have ideas of a sort, concerned with the conservation of the bodily machine.”[5]

This differed from man, in that man’s thought and reason was gifted from God, and thus his soul was immortal.[6] The qualities of these two theories, that if animals have a soul, it is transient, and if animals have reason it is inferior, make up the majority of discourse in the eighteenth century. Various philosophers would proportion each quality differently and temper it with different clauses, but the basis of each theory would loosely remain that animals have a “sensitive soul”[7] as best defined by David Renaud Boullier: “animals have a spiritual soul capable of sensation, by which he included a kind of thought falling short of pure reason… it deemed the animal soul non-spiritual yet thinking,”[8] or in other words, animals had some thinking faculty but were not as sophisticated or brilliant as man’s God given processes.

People who fell into this thought process generally operated under empiricism and looked to animal behavior as the only available indicator of consciousness.[9] This resulted in their assertion that the character of the soul lie in degree of complexity of the organism;[10] the more intricate the animal, the more “sensitive” their soul must be. The only thought of the time that rivaled this was that of the later free thinkers, who “actually destroy any distinction between human and animal soul.”[11] The idea that animals and man had an identical soul, did not withstand for most people who felt their observations defied this, and human arrogance or logic, Bayle’s theory remained.

This eighteenth-century philosophy informs Barye’s work. His approach to animal subjects seems to favor the idea that complex organisms contained ability for rational thought, though that thought was not always dominant, as seen by the impassioned subjects in Elephant Killing a Tiger and Horse Attacked by a Lion. One tabletop animal sculpture that seems to contain a measure of consciousness is, Running African Elephant (c. 1830’s). This elephant is extremely naturalistic and correctly proportioned. The lines in Elephant are curving, flicking, arching, snapping, active lines which propel his foreword motion. The s-shaped lines comprise the shape of his front and back right leg, his arched tail, his spine, and principally, his trunk, all of which suggest that this figure is a vibrant, energetic, exciting composition. The elephant’s body is expertly balanced; the capable adventurous creature moves foreword with assured agency. His body curls slightly left while it leans slightly right to counter the motion the feet too seem to be “moving” in a highly realistic, somewhat circular rotation. Even the red and green patinas clearly play off each other pulling details to the forefront of the viewer’s vision with the red patina, and giving more subtle, rounded definition with the green patina, all backed by a deep mocha background. For example, the bone structure in the elephant’s face is lit with copper highlights from the red patina, while the green patina rounds the segments of the trunk, and fills the flat ear flaps, giving them greater depth. The contrast and saturation of the patinas give physical vigor and personality perhaps evident, along with the multitude of naturalistic and activating elements, of some consciousness in Running African Elephant.

            The lively consciousness exhibited by Barye’s Running African Elephant is similarly present in his work, Half-Blood Horse, With Head Down (19th century) (Fig.4, 5). Though subdued in comparison to the elephant, this horse is no less keen. She is made of long sloping lines; the most prominent of which starts at her muzzle, extends up her brow, over her bridal path, down her long, lean neck, over the small peak of her withers, into the sway of her spine, over her round haunches, and out into her gently arched tailbone. Her weight is balanced, not firm, but shifting, hovering in a moment of evaluation, as she listens, ears flicked back. The movement in her body is implied as she is in a moment before her back left leg steps forward; her ears swivel, her nose twitches, her raised tail, unlike the back and forth wagging of a dog’s, will rise vertically up and flick back down before she settles again. She stretches her head, sniffing the air in active observation. The color of the bronze is a rich mahogany brown, amber in some places, and rosy where the light touches her shapely features. For example, her mantle, shoulder, rump not only catch the light, but are lighter in color, highlighting the most active indicators of her movement. It is as if the color of the sculpture mimics the tone of a real horse’s bay coloring. Despite not being on a raucous adventure like the African elephant, this elegant creature’s consciousness is in her awareness and observation of the world around her and the delicate rendering of her naturalistic qualities.

(Fig.4) Antoine Louis Barye Half-Blood Horse, With Head Down, 19th century. Bronze, 11.9 x 19 cm. Walters Art Museum, Baltimore.
(Fig.4) Antoine Louis Barye Half-Blood Horse, With Head Down, 19th century. Bronze, 11.9 x 19 cm. Walters Art Museum, Baltimore.
(Fig.4) Antoine Louis Barye Half-Blood Horse, With Head Down, (detail).
(Fig.5) Antoine Louis Barye Half-Blood Horse, With Head Down, (detail).

Barye’s ability to sculpt animals, especially these emotively complex elephant and horse works, probably arose from his dedicated observation at Paris’s Jardin des Plantes. The Jardin des Plantes, which contained plants and animals, was part of a complex of museums with a variety of disciplines. Charles Sprauge Smith writes, “In the Garden the different animals are to be seen living, moving behind the bars of their cages; in the Museum of Zoology you will find them stuffed; in the Museum of Comparative Anatomy… you can study their skeletons as connected wholes.”[12] With these vast resources at the Jardin des Plantes, it becomes a bit more understandable how Barye perfected his craft. Smith explains, “Barye made constant use of every facility of instruction afforded by the Garden”[13] complex. The artist even developed an amicable relationship with a member of the staff, Pére Rousseau, who would call him to come inspect animals that had died so he might draw diagrams, take measurements, or make notes about the animal’s anatomy.[14] Barye exposed himself to an entire world of natural history, and with such vast and intense investigation, mastered animal sculpture.

Around the time Barye was studying the materials at the Jardin des Plantes, a zoologist named Isidore Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire was working at the Museum National d’Histoire Naturelle.[15] He spent the early part of his career “writing and lecturing about exotic animals and their utility to agriculture, industry and society”[16] at the Museum. Geoffry Saint-Hilaire’s interest in exotic animals arose from France’s investigation in their colonies, Algeria being one such colony. He had “a well-developed notion of which exotic animals were likely to be useful not only in France but also in her colonies,” and it was his knowledge of the colonies’ animals that would lead him to form a sister institution to the Jardin des Plantes.[17] The Society Zoologique d’Acclimation, heaed by Geoffry Saint-Hilaire, focused on the potential benefit of domesticating foreign, sometimes Algerian animals, for French society.

Considering Barye spent every day in the museums, and Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire spent two decades of this time lecturing, it is not impossible to suppose Barye may have heard some of his lectures. Saint-Hilaire’s writings “were distinctly anti-Cuvierian in tone,”[18] Cuvierian referring to Georges Cuvier, who Saint-Hilaire had invited to Paris in 1795, and became a professor of animal anatomy at the Museé National d’Hisoire Naturelle shortly after[19]. Cuvier prescribed to similar philosophies as Descartes, as previously described. If Barye made contact with the zoologist in all his time at the Jardin and Museums, his work could be directly influenced by the idea that exotic Algerian animals could be domesticated for the purpose of French society, and maybe even persuaded or reassured in his beliefs, also probably anti-Cuvierian due to the reverence and monumentality of his animal sculptures, that animals maintained some quality of consciousness.

Even if Barye did not make contact with Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire or his writings, many European powers were looking to foreign colonies for resources. Europe felt a God-given right to colonize, and simply saw the drive to colonize as evidence of an extremely advanced society intent on spreading civilization.[20] One of the perks of colonizing an area was consuming and transporting its resources, some of which were animal. European “naturalists identified dozens of species like the trumpeter and zebra as untapped resources awaiting domestication”[21] according to traveler’s reports.[22] Writers Jean Baptiste François Hennebert and Gaspard Guillard De Beaurieu even felt that while “Wild animals might seem to live in enviable conditions, free from man’s tyranny… But overall, domestic animals are happier, especially when treated well”[23] because they evaded certain natural challenges like finding food, shelter, and protection.[24] With God’s endorsement and obvious profits, European nations invaded foreign countries, and consumed their animal resources, among others, with zeal.

In the difficult process of colonization, animals that were stolen from exotic countries did not always fair well on their journey to France. Louise E. Robbins writes in her book Elephant Slaves and Pampered Parrots, that when food aboard the exploring ships was entirely gone, all livestock was game for consumption by the crew.[25] Occasionally domestic animals like dogs were victims to the starving voyagers.[26] Even starving humans act according to some hierarchy when searching for sustenance; animals that survived the odds possessed “a value that placed them above consumable creatures, as is evident in the reluctance to eat them even in extreme circumstances.”[27] Their value was debatable, but generally, animals that possessed some kind of anthropomorphic consciousness survived the longest. Robbins writes, “those who had been teaching their parrots a new language held out the longest”[28] from turning them into edible protein. In summary, animals that showed an aptitude and willingness to communicate with humans kept their lives longer than those animals that did not.

Barye seems to identify this quality for animal cooperation, or animals’ decision to participate in human work, especially in works like Surtout de Table: Tiger Hunt (1834-1836) (Fig.6) and Arab Horseman Killing a Lion (c. 1830’s) (Fig.7) where horses and elephants carry human riders into combat against predators.

(Fig.6) Antoine Louis Barye, “Surtout de Table”: Tiger Hunt, 1834-1836. Bronze, lost-wax cast with brown varnish patina over a metallic flake or powdered surface with details highlighted by leaf gilding, 70.5 × 62 × 37 cm. Walters Art Museum, Baltimore.
(Fig.6) Antoine Louis Barye, “Surtout de Table”: Tiger Hunt, 1834-1836. Bronze, lost-wax cast with brown varnish patina over a metallic flake or powdered surface with details highlighted by leaf gilding, 70.5 × 62 × 37 cm. Walters Art Museum, Baltimore.
(Fig.7) Antoine Louis Barye, Arab Horseman Killing a Lion, 1830’s. Yellow bronze, dark brown coppery patina, 38.1 x 38.42 x 15.56 cm. Smith College Museum of Art, Northampton.
(Fig.7) Antoine Louis Barye, Arab Horseman Killing a Lion, 1830’s. Yellow bronze, dark brown coppery patina, 38.1 x 38.42 x 15.56 cm. Smith College Museum of Art, Northampton.

In these sculptures, elephant or horse and man work as one to dominate predators like tigers and lions respectively. Considering elephants and horses are the only animals sculpted in this uniquely loyal position, it is possible that part of Barye’s concession to instilling consciousness in his equine and pachyderm subjects was due to their consent to carry human masters into potentially lethal circumstances.

Ultimately, Barye sculpts elephants and horses with acute consciousness even when they are not acting on behalf of their human masters. In works like Running African Elephant and Half-Blood Horse, With Head Down where the animals are not in a manmade setting, wear no tack, and complete no domestic chores, elephants and horses are occasionally afforded an emotive consciousness more sophisticated than the base reactions of predator and prey animals. Due to Barye’s exposure at the Jardin des Plantes and in French society in general, it is possible that the artist directly translates the familiar utility and loyalty of the horse to the new Senegalese resource, the elephant, and thus expresses a French desire to translate foreign colonies’ culture into recognizable European terms.

Regardless of his goals, the evidence that Barye sculpted elephants and horses, among other animals, with consciousness has not gone unnoticed in history; Smith writes, “the new element which he has discovered and added, [is] the immortal soul [which] he has breathed into bronze.”[29] Though there is not a decisive visual guide that defines the presence of the animal soul, and there may never be a consensus about the existence of the animal soul, Barye’s works begin a visual discussion of how we might appreciate and locate elusive animal consciousness

            [1] Charles Sprague Smith. “Barye.” In Barbizon Days, 187. Freeport: Books for Libraries Press, 1902.

            [2] Leonora Chohen Rosefield. From Beast-Machine to Man-Machine. New York: Octagon Books, 1968. 6.

            [3] Rosefield. From Beast-Machine to Man-Machine, 18-20.

            [4] Rosefield. From Beast-Machine to Man-Machine. 75.

            [5] Rosefield. From Beast-Machine to Man-Machine. 76.

            [6] Rosefield. From Beast-Machine to Man-Machine. 76.

            [7] Rosefield. From Beast-Machine to Man-Machine. 80.

            [8] Rosefield. From Beast-Machine to Man-Machine. 78.

            [9] Rosefield. From Beast-Machine to Man-Machine. 109.

            [10] Rosefield. From Beast-Machine to Man-Machine. 125.

[11] Rosefield. From Beast-Machine to Man-Machine. 123.

            [12] Smith, Barbizon Days, 194.

            [13] Smith, Barbizon Days, 194.

            [14] Smith, Barbizon Days, 195.

            [15] Michael A. Osborne. Nature, The Exotic, and the Science of French Colonialism. Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1994. 2.

            [16] Osborne. The Science of French Colonialism. 3.

            [17] Osborne. The Science of French Colonialism. 7.

            [18] Osborne. The Science of French Colonialism. 4.

            [19] Ben Waggoner. “Georges Cuvier (1769-1832).” WWW.UCMP.BERKELEY.EDU. 1994. Accessed December 23, 2014. http://www.ucmp.berkeley.edu/hisotyr/cuvier/html

            [20] Louise E. Robbins. Elephant Slaves and Pampered Parrots: Exotic Animals in Eighteenth-Century Paris. Baltimore and London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2002. 188.

            [21] Robbins. Elephant Slaves. 188.

            [22] Robbins. Elephant Slaves. 188.

            [23] Robbins. Elephant Slaves. 197.

            [24] Robbins. Elephant Slaves. 197.

            [25] Robbins. Elephant Slaves. 9-12.

            [26] Robbins. Elephant Slaves. 11.

            [27] Robbins. Elephant Slaves. 12.

            [28] Robbins. Elephant Slaves. 12.

            [29] Smith, Barbizon Days, 219.

Laura Motley

Convergence: Antoine Louis Barye’s Creation of a Psychological Narrative Form through an Intersection of Art and Science

Aside

The transformation of form—both figural and narrative—occurs as new universal truths arise and the experience of living changes.  Antoine Louis Barye captures the essence of nineteenth-century Europe in his bronze predator and prey table-top sculpture groups through unifying the human and animal psyche. In Standing Lion and Serpent (ca. 1820-1825, Bronze, Mead Art Museum) (fig. 1), Lion Crushing a Serpent (ca. 1832, Bronze, Walters Art Gallery) (fig. 2), Lapith Combating a Centaur (Ca. 1840, Bronze, Smith College Art Museum)  (fig. 3), and Theseus Slaying the Centaur Bienor (1849-1850, Bronze, Smith College Art Museum) (fig. 4) Barye uses animal and human bodies as his primary vessels for psychological evocation.  How do extreme table-top scenes of combat represent a universal truth and capture the essence of the changing human experience of the nineteenth-century?

Fig. 1 Barye, Antoine-Louis. Standing Lion and Serpent. Ca. 1820-1825. Bronze. Mead Art Museum, Amherst College, Amherst.
Fig. 1
Barye, Antoine-Louis. Standing Lion and Serpent. Ca. 1820-1825. Bronze. Mead Art Museum,
Amherst College, Amherst.
Fig. 2 Barye, Antoine-Louis. Lion Crushing a Serpent. Ca. 1832. Bronze. The Walters Art Gallery, Baltimore.
Fig. 2
Barye, Antoine-Louis. Lion Crushing a Serpent. Ca. 1832. Bronze. The Walters Art Gallery,
Baltimore.
Fig. 3 Barye, Antoine-Louis. Lapith Combating a Centaur. Ca. 1840. Bronze.Smith College Art Museum, Northampton.
Fig. 3
Barye, Antoine-Louis. Lapith Combating a Centaur. Ca. 1840. Bronze.Smith College Art
Museum, Northampton.
Fig. 4 Barye, Antoine-Louis. Theseus Slaying the Centaur Bienor. Modeled 1849-1850. Bronze. Smith College Art Museum, Northampton.
Fig. 4
Barye, Antoine-Louis. Theseus Slaying the Centaur Bienor. Modeled 1849-1850. Bronze.
Smith College Art Museum, Northampton.

Scientifically and politically, nineteenth-century Europe was plagued with an overwhelming and startling new view and understanding of humankind and the world. Though often considered as such, art and science are not mutually exclusive.  The convergence of science and art emerged in the nineteenth century as the culmination of scientific discoveries, political unrest, and a desire for new sculptural form began to reach an epicenter.  The emerging popularity and awareness of new discoveries and theories involving Darwinian and Lamarkist evolution completely enthralled the science and arts communities. Artists were actively pursuing a way to add a new dimension to the implied linear narrative and formal qualities of sculpture, and they sought refuge in the new scientific discoveries which brought on a new cerebralized awareness of self. Emerging politics and scientific theories urgently prompted a new form of sculptural representation to reflect the changing human experience. Artists such as Charles Henri Joseph Cordier were experimenting with sculptural form by representing ‘evolutionary’ notions of ‘race’ to try and assimilate artful and ‘scientific’ representations of mankind. Other artists, such as Honoré Daumier, were using political commentary to experiment with figural representation.  Antoine-Louis Barye, originally a goldsmith, combined ideologies of craftsmanship, science, and the Beaux-Arts aesthetic for his sculptural compositions.  Barye’s artistic agenda parallels with the nineteenth century’s search for new sculptural form in that they both involve intricate variables.  Barye’s focus on the hybridization of craftsmanship and anatomically accurate detail creates a scientific lens for the construction of his compositions.  Barye’s formal training in art from antiquity, the Renaissance, and Mannerism generates evocative complexity in his compositions rooted in formal elements such as figural composition, spatial dynamics, and subject matter.  Barye’s multi-faceted artistic ideologies coincide with the call to new sculptural form because both heavily rely on the amalgamation of art and science.

Barye established a symbiotic relationship between art and science ideologically and compositionally.  The intellectual, ideological, and compositional levels of his predator and prey sculpture groups created a dichotomy of new form that exists narratively and aesthetically.  In these groups, Barye approached notions of the sublime by combining scientifically accurate animal depictions with emotionally charged compositions. Barye’s consilience of science and art in Standing Lion and Serpent (ca. 1820-1825, Bronze, Mead Art Museum) (fig. 1), Lion Crushing a Serpent (ca. 1832, Bronze, Walters Art Gallery) (fig. 2), Lapith Combating a Centaur (Ca. 1840, Bronze, Smith College Art Museum)  (fig. 3), and Theseus Slaying the Centaur Bienor (1849-1850, Bronze, Smith College Art Museum) (fig. 4)creates a sculptural narrative rooted in an archetypal psychological experience between predator and prey.  This experience introduces a non-linear sculptural narrative.  Barye neither emphasizes the beginning nor the end of the conflict presented. The narrative of these groups is instead based on a fleeting psychological instant between the two combating figures. Barye uses his scientific approach to detail in these groups in order to depart from voyeuristic artistic choices that imply linear narrative in favor of strikingly realistic visual clues that convey extreme senses of emotion such as panic, rage, and pleasurable triumph.  Because the figures in these groups are either animal or mythical, the presence of an altercation seems natural; however, the passionate evocation of the struggle itself drives the movement of the sculpture.  Barye’s scientific representation of body composition regarding muscular definition and spatial dominance therefore is primarily responsible for creating a narrative that exists outside of time, and is instead rooted in a psychologically evocative struggle [1].

The creation of a psychological narrative lies in the subtleties behind his advanced education in goldsmithery, art, and science.  Barye’s well-rounded education reveals that the intention behind his choices regarding these predator and prey groups is far more deep seated than mere aesthetic or representation, “…the range and character of the sources of Barye’s art [was] nature itself, the art of recent goldsmithery, and the sculpture of antiquity” (Benge, 16).  Barye was effectively commenting on the changing world surrounding him by incorporating and interpreting new scientific discoveries through his art.  The union of Barye’s experience with craftsmanship, formal artistic training, and understandings of science began early in his life.  His youngest years were primarily rooted in goldsmithery, “Barye saw the most sophisticated technical practices among Partisan Goldsmiths;” however, he also “encountered Neoclassical and antique models that would remain significant through his career” (Fusco, 124).  Barye’s formal education of art was a sophisticated accumulation formed by his early years as a craftsman.

Fig.5 Giambologna. Hercules Fighting with the Centaur Nessus. 1599. Marble. Loggia della Signoria, Florence.
Fig.5
Giambologna. Hercules Fighting with the Centaur Nessus. 1599. Marble. Loggia della Signoria,
Florence.

The dichotomy of Barye’s repertoire is present in Theseus Slaying the Centaur (fig. 4)and Lapith Combating a Centaur (fig. 3)because of their ties with the renaissance sculpture Hercules Fighting with the Centaur Nessus (fig. 5) by Giambologna in 1599.  Compositionally, the figures are all arranged the same way: the (assumed) protagonist is positioned atop the centaur’s back with his armed raised, with the centaur struggling to release himself from the protagonist’s grip (fig. 6). Barye continues the similarities in his treatment of Theseus’ and Lapith’s face: they both are allusions to antiquity which is directly parallel to Hercules’ face (fig. 7). Barye’s nod to antiquity can specifically be seen in the treatment of Theseus’/Lapith’s hair.  Barye specifically strays from Giambologna’s form in his composition of the centaurs’ bodies (fig 8).   Where Giambologna creates the image of the distinctive mythical centaur with tufts of fur separating the human and animal segments of the body, Barye opts for a smooth transition between the horse bottom and the human torso.  This illustrates Barye’s intentional departure from traditional form he learned in the Académie des Beaux-Art, in favor of a visual assimilation between human and animal, which he was able to successfully accomplish through his training as a craftsman and his in depth-study of animal form. This visual assimilation of human and animal form creates a subconscious union of the human and animal psyche, a union that is indeed expressed through mutual significance of stressed muscles both in the horse’s portion of the body and the man’s portion of the body.  This transition will serve as a pretext for understanding the parallels in psychological states and body composition.

Fig. 6 Top: Theseus Slaying the Centaur Bienor. Center: Hercules Fighting with the Centaur Nessus Bottom: Lapith Combating a Centaur
Fig. 6
Top: Theseus Slaying the Centaur Bienor.
Center: Hercules Fighting with the Centaur Nessus
Bottom: Lapith Combating a Centaur
Fig. 7 Left: Theseus Slaying the Centaur Bienor Center: Hercules Fighting with the Centaur Nessus Right: Lapith Combating a Centaur
Fig. 7
Left: Theseus Slaying the Centaur Bienor
Center: Hercules Fighting with the Centaur Nessus
Right: Lapith Combating a Centaur
Fig. 8 Left: Theseus Slaying the Centaur Bienor Center: Hercules Fighting with the Centaur Nessus Bottom: Lapith Combating a Centaur
Fig. 8
Left: Theseus Slaying the Centaur Bienor
Center: Hercules Fighting with the Centaur Nessus
Bottom: Lapith Combating a Centaur

Barye’s education in science was largely self-taught, “He studied living animals in the menagerie of the Jardin des Plantes and studied specimens and skeletons at Musee d’ Anatomie Comparee…Notations in his sketchbook show he observed dissections and read recent scholarly papers on species he depicted” (Fusco, 124).  Barye’s self-imposed scientific learning further contributes to his intentional combination of art and scientific representation in Standing Lion and Serpent, Lion Crushing a Serpent, Lapith Combating a Centaur, and Theseus Slaying the Centaur, “Even the most Romantic, realistic bronzes of Animals of his later career reflect his thorough assimilation of classical prototypes” (Fusco, 124).  The intention behind the scientific realism of these sculptures shows educated reasoning to juxtapose strikingly accurate anatomical detail with severely charged psychological representations.  Jacques de Casto’s article, “The Origin of Barye’s Ape Riding a Gnu,” provides some insight to the drive behind Barye’s scientific inquiries.  De Casto explains that when creating his works, Barye would use “unusual painstaking methods of measuring each part of the body in order to master the anatomy of the animal” (71).  An early work, Ape Riding a Gnu (ca. 1840, Bronze, Walters Art Gallery)provides some insight regarding Barye’s stance on evolution.  Very literally, an ape riding a gnu signals intention and brain activity on par with that of a human, showing Barye’s “belief in the intelligence of primates,” therefore opening the psychological bridge between human beings and animals (de Casto, 68). Barye’s intricate methods in construction display a distinct focus on accurate detail and representation; he sought not to merely represent an animal form, but rather to capture the essence of the animal’s behavior and psyche while bringing that essence into a human context.  Barye also opts for malapropos parings between his predator and prey sculpture groups: lions and serpents, jaguars and hares, and apes and gnus rarely interact. Removing geographical boundaries and landscape markers in his sculptures further speaks to Barye’s ideologies surrounding the truth about the psyche and emotion.   So, Barye further emphasizes his new form by removing the divide between humans and animals—and arguably between humans and humans—showing that there are staunch emotional ties between all, creating a visual representation of the universal truth of psychology.

As we have already discussed, Barye’s scientific approach to the composition of his figures, specifically that of the transition between the centaurs’ human and horse bodies in Theseus Slaying the Centaur and Lapith Combating a Centaur allows for the assimilation between human and animal psyche through body composition.  Barye’s staunch attention to detail in regards to animals’ muscular definition is the primary evocative element in indulging in the psyche.  Barye’s, Standing Lion and Serpent (fig. 2)and Lion Crushing a Serpent (fig. 1) is the epitome of the predator and prey group: two deadly lifeforms locked in battle. Though the Mead Art Museum’s Standing Lion and Serpent is not the exact cast as the Walters Art Gallery’s Lion Crushing a Serpent, the larger psychological implications can be noted in both works via the similarities and differences. The compositional difference in the figures is largely based on the serpent.  Standing Lion and Serpent presents the serpent predominantly in three dimensions, the base of the body and the tail is a high relief extension of the surrounding landscape (fig. 9).  The serpent’s mid-body is coiled under the hindquarters of the lion, his tail winding to the left (or back) side of the landscape of the bronze.  The serpent’s head is extended off the ground, lunging towards the lion.  Similarly—though perhaps more discrete—Lion Crushing a Serpent presents the serpent about to strike, however, the serpent’s entire body is a high relief blended with the landscape platform (fig. 10).  The serpent’s head, only slightly projecting from the base, is recoiled, marking his aim for a strike.  The entire figure of the serpent in this sculpture resides in the base.  The serpent, too, is also predominantly looping under the lion’s front half, with its tail extending in curvature through the length of the lion’s underbelly.  The lion, though largely in the same figural composition as in Standing Lion and Serpent is turned the other way, extending the left paw, as opposed to the right, and is squatting his hindquarters to the ground.  Though compositional differences exist, the muscular definition of the two compositions remains fluid.  Barye places equal significance on the tensions in the body, showing that the emotion on both sides of the struggle is equally important.

Fig. 9
Fig. 9
Fig.10
Fig.10

The unimportance of setting and geographic landscape representation in all four of the bronzes that we have discussed further stresses the irrelevance of time unfolding in Barye’s predator and prey groups.   Theseus Slaying the Centaur and Lapith Combating a Centaur have virtually the same scene, however the geographic setting changes. Though the landscape is different, the composition and the action poses are the same.  Theseus is much more detailed surface-wise; however, neither sculpture shows a sacrifice in the detail reflecting the muscular definition.  Because the muscular definition is the same, but the setting and the title changes, one can infer that the implied narrative is not supposed to be as generous to the viewer’s imaginative experience as the detail in the figural composition and surface texture, specifically regarding the muscular make up.  The geography and settings in the bronzes are inconsistent.  The facial expressions are different; so are the horses’ tales (fig. 5, 11). Despite these differences, which seem extreme because they are the most objectively expressive part of the human and of the horse, the muscular composition of both sculptures remains the same.  This is extremely important when realizing the emphasis Barye places in scientific accuracy when it comes to figural composition in both human and animal sculptures.  Though the landscape, title (and therefore implied narrative) and direct expressive attributes vary between the two extremely similar sculptures, the muscles and their emphasis remain the same and remain in the forefront, this shows that Barye sees the body, both in human and animals as the primary expressive vessel for psychological states.  It has already been established that Barye stressed scientific representation in form, which means his choice in a non-descript setting and landscape was an intentional escape from any traditional narrative presumptions.  Barye’s choices in setting are even less noticeable in Standing Lion and Serpent (fig. 2)and Lion Crushing a Serpent (fig. 1).  Again, the landscapes change in both figures; however, in this group, the landscape is even less present to begin with.  Lion Crushing a Serpent features a texturized ground with small details of rock blended in low-relief on the ground, along with the serpent (fig. 10).  In Standing Lion and Serpent, the ground, again is texturized, however, this time, there are low-relief details of plant life (fig. 9).  Virtually the same anatomical accuracy, however, the landscape changes, suggesting that the altercation is independent of circumstance and perhaps entirely unavoidable, thus contributing to the archetypal stand-off between predator and prey.

Fig. 11 Left: Lapith Combating a Centaur Right: Theseus Slaying the Centaur Bienor
Fig. 11
Left: Lapith Combating a Centaur
Right: Theseus Slaying the Centaur Bienor

Another essential element of Barye’s form to take into account is the size of his popular works.  He preferred to work in table-top bronzes.  The copious amount of detail that Barye incorporated into these small-sized works indicates that he intended them to be much more than decorative objects; and they were.  The detail in muscular definition, facial form, and spatial dominance in both his human and animal works demands extensive attentive looking; designed to be slowly taken in and thought about by the viewer, the small size of the works made the detail ever-more evocative.  The resonating psychology that transpires within these works, which becomes dominantly present though Barye’s scientific detail, allowed Barye to “divorce the image [of the small prototype]’s role as a mere embellishment on a useful object and elevated it to the qualitative and conceptual level of a free, major art form” (Benge, 17).  The veristic accuracy with animal anatomy leads to a relationship with physical manifestations of emotion.  These manifestations were both intriguing and evocative, which, in turn, removed the necessity for a linear narrative.  The sculpture did not require a point in time: the essences of the works were not dependent on events unfolding but rather functioned to reveal a universal truth about the psyche.  Thus, these works lead to a new fine art form: small sized sculpture and psychologically–driven narratives.

Each and every one of the sculptures, Standing Lion and Serpent, Lion Crushing a Serpent, Lapith Combating a Centaur, and Theseus Slaying the Centaur Bienor, presents a potential stalemate between the predators.  The muscles and the landscape play into the creation of a psychological narrative; however, the role of spatial relations in the figural compositions also have important implications. Though one sculpture is more direct about the outcome of the narrative (Lion Crushing a Serpent), both sculptures’ distinguished realistic stances mark a fleeting moment, not in battle, but of kill or be killed, predator or prey.  This instance is so defined in the anatomy because it marks the moment where each opponent makes the choice to act as either predator or prey.  Perhaps, the reason for the differences in sculpture is because Standing Lion and Serpent was made before Lion Crushing a Serpent.  Lion Crushing a Serpent was made for the royal house of Orleans and the differences in figural composition and its addition to implied narrative were no doubt intended to convey a political implication (Fusco 124).

Deeper consideration of the politics of France in the mid-nineteenth century is essential when answering the question, “Why did Barye use animals to represent human psychological states?” Barye was pushed into the spotlight, and consequently, the government’s eye in 1831 where he received critical acclaim for Tiger Devouring a Gavial of the Ganges (Fusco 124). His budding reputation lead him to a swift commission from the Royal House of Orleans (Fusco 124).  After this, he was commissioned by the Duc d’Orleans to do a set of table-top bronze animal sculptures.  He also made The Lion and the Serpent for the House of Orleans which he showed in the Salon of 1833 along with a plaster bust of the Duc d’Orleans.  After the Salon the bronze was then purchased by the Senate in 1834.  At this point Barye was on the July Monarchy’s payroll, thus causing a need for more subtlety when expressing the experience of the French in his artwork.  The use of animals functioned for several reasons: they were archetypal symbols (i.e. the lion, the serpent, the hare), they played into scientific topics of the time, and they removed the need for a linear narrative.  Most importantly, however, the use of animals allowed safe representation of turmoil and unrest that both viewer and audience could express without directly naming a person, a group, or a specific event—the animal forms allows pure the psychology of the work to take over.  Barye’s departure from veristic representations of people, allowed him to create evocative works without putting his career in jeopardy.  Perhaps, the reason for the differences in the sculptures, Standing Lion and Serpent and Lion Crushing a Serpent is because Standing Lion and Serpent was made before Lion Crushing a Serpent.  Lion Crushing a Serpent was made for the royal house of Orleans and the differences in figural composition and its addition to implied narrative were no doubt intended to convey a political implication.

Antoine Louis Barye’s predator and prey groups represented the culmination of all the changing facts of the world in the nineteenth-century. These evocative portrayals exist within the figures’ psychological states, which are known through visual clues. These objective visual clues are created from Barye’s scientific approach to figural composition; paying specific attention to the muscular definition and anatomical accuracy of his figures.  These visual clues serve to represent a universal truth independent of species, setting, and the narrative’s chronology.  They are archetypal in that they represent unavoidable struggles and psychological stand-offs which can be present in any one person or animal’s life.  Creating a psychological narrative form that specifically represents these struggles between predator and prey was increasingly important in the nineteenth century not only because of political upheaval but also social upheaval.  With evolutionary science getting carried away and branching into studies of ‘race,’ the tensions between predator and prey seemed ever-more important to represent as multiple groups of people were other-ed through false pseudo-science.  By essentially using popular scientific study and artistic representations against themselves in Standing Lion and Serpent, Lion Crushing a Serpent, Lapith Combating a Centaur, and Theseus Slaying the Centaur Bienor to create a psychological narrative that speaks to the tensions of the time, Barye was able to rise to critical acclaim while also accurately representing the psychological essence of the nineteenth century.

[1] Through looking at Barye’s art in conjunction with the work of canonical artists at the time that was similar in subject-matter, the grasp on what Barye was formally doing differently from other artists becomes clear. Glenn F. Benge’s article, “Barye’s Uses of Some Jean-Louis André Théodore Géricault Drawings,” specifically compares Barye’s studies of Géricault’s drawings of Boxers with the Géricault originals.  Benge’s comparison reveals that, “Barye’s major alteration of Géricaultimages and its antique prototypes was his preference for a face-to-face combat” (27).  This preference, then, is an indication of Barye’s intentional choice to display scenes with heightened emotion, specifically within a predator and prey dynamic.

 

Image List

Barye, Antoine-Louis. Lapith Combating a Centaur. Ca. 1840. Bronze.Smith College Art Museum, Northampton.

[Images Courtesy of the Smith College Art Museum]

Barye, Antoine-Louis. Lion Crushing a Serpent. Ca. 1832. Bronze. The Walters Art Gallery,

[Image Courtesy of Walters Art Gallery]

[Image of different cast of same sculpture courtesy of Christie’s Online Art Gallery: http://www.christies.com/lotfinder/LargeImage.aspx?image=http://www.christies.com/lotfinderimages/d40808/d4080896x.jpg]

Barye, Antoine-Louis. Standing Lion and Serpent.  Ca. 1820-1825. Bronze. Mead Art Museum, Amherst College, Amherst.

[Images Courtesy of the Mead Art Museum]

Barye, Antoine-Louis. Theseus Slaying the Centaur Bienor. Modeled 1849-1850.  Bronze. Smith College Art Museum, Northampton.

[Image Courtesy of the Smith College Art Museum]

Giambologna. Hercules Fighting with the Centaur Nessus. 1599. Marble. Loggia della Signoria,

[Image Courtesy of Wikipedia: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/90/Giambologna_herculesenesso.jpg]

[Image Courtesy of Digital-images.net:  http://www.digital-images.net/Images/Florence/Sculpture/Hercules_Nessus_Loggia_deiLanzi_4125MG.jpg]

 

Works Cited

“Antoine-Louis Barye: Theseus Fighting the Centaur Bianor.” The Metropolitan Museum of Art: Collection Online.  The Metropolitan Museum of Art, n.d. Web.

Ballu, Roger and Euge?ne Guillaume. L’œuvre De Barye. Paris: Maison Quantin, 1890. Print.

Benge, Glenn F. Antoine-louis Barye, Sculptor of Romantic Realism. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1984. Print.

Benge, Glenn F. “Barye’s Uses of Some Ge?ricault Drawings.” The Journal of the Walters Art Gallery. (1968): 13-27. Print.

Caso, Jacques de. “The Origin of Barye’s “ape Riding a Gnu”: Barye and Thomas Landseer.”TheJournal of the Walters Art Gallery. (1964): 66-73. Print.

Fusco, Peter, and H W. Janson. The Romantics to Rodin: French Nineteenth-Century Sculpture from North American Collections. Los Angeles, Calif: Los Angeles County Museum of Art, 1980. Print

Laura Pinkerton

Remington’s The Bronco Buster: American Masculinity in the late Nineteenth century

Image

Nineteenth-century artist Frederic Remington (1861-1909) is today most recognized for his American western scenes of the frontier. Paintings and sculptures of military men, Native Americans, cowboys, violent scuffles, ranches and other wild events on the Western front were Remington’s chosen subject, and ultimately his life’s work. Post-civil war America gave way to drastic institutional shifts in almost all cultural realms. The changing makeup of American industry, societal structure, and the economy disrupted the comfortable known of the Easterners. These shifts destabilized and redefined gender roles, specifically in masculine identities.  The American West offered men, like Remington to seek untouched and wild land. It was there, not the East, that men could reclaim success and a satisfying sense of self.  Remington dynamically shapes the contemporary American identity by using the equestrian figure, like the bronze sculpture, The Bronco Buster (1895, Smith College Museum of Art) (fig.1). Through this figure, Remington is able to draw upon earlier and contemporary sources in order to create a figure that is an American myth and hero. The wild and manly equestrian demonstrated through the cowboy is a reaction and reflection of the desired American hero. S-1932-10 (1)       In the last half of the nineteenth century, America once formed on a collection of small, separated communities, shifted from disparate towns and cities to a more centralized society. The influence of industrialization resulted in widespread economic development, which effectively distributed wealth.  This shift led to drastic cultural changes in the previously stagnant American social structure. Old families that had thrived since colonial times were tremendously displeased at the competition the new wealth brought both in business and in social order. White writes, “The rise of the new rich upset the leisured world of old families of high social standing.” [1] In addition to this new economic class, an increase of immigrants, primarily Catholic (as opposed to the overwhelmingly Protestant America) from European countries disputed the enjoyed homogeneity that previously helped to stabilize the nation. During this time of change, expectations of men were altered and enforced. Americans boys were bred to grow up to be serious, tough, and disciplined.  The Groton, a prestigious private school, as White recounts about an “active work life” and the administration “spoke of boys standing on their own feet, developing manly attitudes and learned to fend for themselves in the rough and tumble game of life.”  [2]American schools were not teaching these “manly attitudes” to promote masculinity but to defend it against what many thought was a time of “feminization” of America.  Michael Kimmel in his book, Manhood in America: A Cultural History, writes that, “his sense of himself as a man was in constant need of demonstration.”[3]  Kimmel continues state that, “…men strove to build themselves into powerful machines capable of winning any contest, they ran away to work or to seek out the frontier, and they excluded others from equal opportunity work to go to school and to vote.” Because of the shift in societal makeup, men needed to in a sense prove their superiority. In his art, Remington confronts and silences any notion of masculine vulnerability. Remington identifies a masculine type, the cowboy. The formal qualities of the bronze The Bronco Buster create a vision of the ideal American man. Remington’s The Bronco Buster (sometimes referred to as The Bucking Bronco) is bronze sculpture, (whole: 23 in.; 58.42 cm, height) originally cast in 1895. This specific piece examined for this argument however, was cast in 1932 and is part of the Mead Art Museum Collection at Amherst College. The sculpture is quite small, perhaps best suited for a surface top, but none the less powerful and full of movement. It is not surprising Remington choose to include a bronco in Bronco Buster first sculpture, the subject fascinated him. In 1889 the artist said, “Only those who have ridden a bronco for the first time it was saddled, or have lived through a railroad accident can form any conception of solemnity of such experiences. Few Easterner people appreciate the sky-rocket bounds and the grunts and stiff legged striking”. [4]  The subject, composition and texture reinforce the idea of the powerful, masculine, and almost mythological American type. The Bronco Buster depicts a man, riding a large, bucking horse. The human figure is adorned with all of the necessary cowboy icons. The hat on his head folds back slightly with the movement of the horse, a gun is strapped around his waist, sharp spurs are attached to his boots and the figure sits upon a hefty saddle. With one hand the man holds tightly to the reins as the other hand lifts a loaded whip, ready to strike.  Although the horse is bucking, a movement that often throws riders off, the figure leans forward in a state of balance. The face of the man is sharp, and highlighted by pronounced, angular jaw bones. A beard covers his mouth and parts of his cheeks. His eyes concentrate at a downward point, perhaps to the horses head. Despite the aggressive actions, the figure’s expression is blank, controlled, and unavailable. The horse figure in Bronco Buster is completely subordinate to the power of his master. The creature stands on two feet, with the opposite two lifted aggressively upward. The horse’s mouth is open, suggesting sound, perhaps a yelp from the whip or from the pulled reins. Remington textured and worked the bronze to show the impressive anatomy of the beast. Several undulating indentations suggest the rib cage. The raised and curving surface yields large, working muscles, especially around the legs. The smaller master on the horse, unlike his animal partner, is covered in clothing, showing no anatomical strength. The man’s strength over nature comes from human articles that adorn him, for instance, the gun, the spurs and the reigns. In these two connected figures, Remington shows the difference between man and beast. The power of the man comes from his intellect and invention, while the beast relies on brute force.  In The Bronco Buster Remington represents man in absolute control over the wild. In order to create this dynamic bronze, Remington might have been looking to other contemporary sources. In the Bronco Buster, Remington may have been aware of the French sculptor, Antoine-Louis Barye, perhaps drawing from his precedence. Barye is recognized for his provocative subject matter which often depicted violent animal fight scenes, predator and prey, and human on human struggles. For this argument we will focus specifically on Arab Horseman Killing a Lion, (1830s Smith College Museum of Art). Arab Horseman depicts a man on top of a bucking horse. The horse rears over the fallen lion, and the rider plunges a long spear into the beast. In this bronze we see similarities to Remington’s work. A man dressed in exotic, presumably Arab clothing commands a powerful horse. The robust legs and chest of 1980_45_2_bthe horse suggest a kind of animalistic durability. From one angle (from the view looking at the back of the lion where the man’s face is out of view) the viewer gets the best understanding of the capabilities of this horse. The body of the animal stretches from one point of the base to the other, spanning the entire composition of the bronze. The back legs appear to be unbalanced as the front prance forward. The horses’ face rears up, mouth open, a harness attached to its jaw.  Despite the beauty and spirit of the horse, we are reminded in the emptiness of the expression and in the  presence of the harness that this beast is not in control, his rider is. The intensity of the horse’s movement is complemented by the coolness and control of the equestrian figure. With one hand, he holds onto his animal and with the other he stabs the lion that lies below. These actions suggest a kind of skill and control. In the Arab Horsemen Barye creates a strategic composition, suggesting the movement of power. The man is situated above the animals dictates the situation. The next position is the horse controlled by his master and assisting him in the attack. The lion, the victim, below is conquered by to the man and his horse. 1980_45_2_a Remington looked to the earlier French sculpture tradition in order to create Bronco Buster. As in Remington’s bronze, Barye’s Arab Horseman focuses on man’s struggle and success over the wild. Barye incorporated an equestrian type, like the Arab Horseman and Remington translated this Arab man into the figure in Bronco Buster.  Remington was aware of the impressive tradition of the equestrian figure and used it to represent an inspiring and masculine American hero. For the creation of Bronco Buster, Remington may have looked to other influences within American culture. At this time, Americans were enamored with tales of the West.  Although the pioneer movement was over by this time people were still intrigued by frontier heroes. Scholar Brian Dippie writes, “the frontier adventure might be over, but a fascination with the frontier heroes lived.”[5]  “Buffalo Bill” Cody began his  Buffalo Bill’s Wild West in 1883. The program was a theatrical showcase of culture and entertainment from the American frontier. Dippie describes it as, “an arena entertainment with buffalo and Indians and much else…Buffalo Bill personified the ideal plainsman, the buckskin-clad hunter hero of the frontier days. [6] The show also included livestock performances, bronco riding, and other skills ranching skills from the frontier.  The company of Buffalo Bill was widely popular and traveled throughout the US, to Europe, and appeared at the World’s Columbian Exposition at Chicago in 1893. Buffalo Bill represented a man of the frontier, whose traits were described by contemporaries as “coarseness and strength” and “dominant individualism.” [7]  Remington was aware of Buffalo Bill and produced work for him including illustrations for Cody’s “Story of the Wild West” in 1888.  While on a trip to London, Remington and Cody met again, and their friendship started there. From this visit Remington would produce several illustrations of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West performances and In the Limelight, (fig. 3)a painting of Cody on horseback in a large 23.71-1000x1000crowded arena. For the creation of Bronco Buster it is likely that Remington referenced some of what he saw at the Wild West show. Although it would be difficult to prove, one might ask if perhaps the Bronco Buster is perhaps one of Cody’s performers. In addition to Buffalo Bill Cody, Remington perhaps referenced other American artists in his sculpture. Remington may have looked to photography by Eadweard Muybridge, an English born American artist for the Bronco Buster. Muybridge is described as being, “the first to analyze motion successfully by using a sequence of photographs and resynthesizing them to produce moving pictures on a screen.”[8]  He was able to take photos with a quick shutter speed him to capturing the precise movements of bodies in motion. Muybridge developed a series of studies called, “Animal Locomotion” one of which, and perhaps his most famous is of a horse trotting. (fig.4) As the viewer moves through each still, one can see each individual motion of the trot. There is another horse still in “Animal Locomotion” that depicts a horse bucking and moving its muybridge625front and back legs. Muybridge’s work was important at the end of the nineteenth century, and it is likely that Remington was aware of his work. Movement is very important in the  The Bronco Buster and in order to correctly portray this movement Remington could have consulted Muybridge’s “Animal Locomotion.”  If Remington did use photography in the Bronco Buster as a reference, it would not be the first time the artist did so. For example, in his painting, Maj. General Leonard Wood USA (1909, West Point Museum) Remington referenced an earlier photograph of the General of his horse.Muybridge1-600x474 Frederic Remington’s bronze Bronco Buster is a sculpture that reflects the fascinations of American society. The West offered people an impressionable frontier; a place where they could project their desired American identities and hoped for heroes. The West represented opportunity, and had a rough masculine aura.  Remington creates a vision of the American hero in his Bronco Buster. The artist looked to French tradition, Buffalo Bill’s Wild West, and contemporary photography in order to perfect his sculpture. The Bronco Buster is a symbol of man’s feat over nature, and America’s feat over all.       [1].Edward G. White. The Eastern Establishment and the Western Experience; The West of Frederic Remington, Theodore Roosevelt, and Owen Wister. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1968. 12. [2] White, Eastern, 14 [3] Michael S. Kimmel Manhood in America: A Cultural History. New York: Free Press, 1996.40. [4] Brian Dippie. The Frederic Remington Art Museum Collection. 2001. 112. [5]Thayer Tolles,, Thomas Brent Smith, Carol Clark, Brian W. Dippie, Peter H. Hassrick, Karen Lemmey, and Jessica Murphy. The American West in Bronze, 1850-1925. 2013. 14. [6]Tolles, American West, 15 [7] Tolles, American West, 16 [8] J. P. Ward. “Muybridge, Eadweard.” Grove Art Online. Oxford Art Online. Oxford University Press, accessed December 19, 2014,http://www.oxfordartonline.com/subscriber/article/grove/art/T060619.

Kaitlin Hurley

Tales of a 19th-Century Liberator: Shakespeare & His Image in 19th-Century France

Fig 1. Albert-Ernest Carrier-Belleuse. Shakespeare. 19th-Century. Bronze. Mead Art Museum, Amherst College.
Fig 1. Albert-Ernest Carrier-Belleuse. Shakespeare. 19th Century. Bronze. Mead Art Museum, Amherst College.

French sculptor Albert-Ernest Carrier-Belleuse was known for sculpting busts, especially of historical and mythical figures, primarily earlier in his career. Belleuse was hailed as giving “carried and winsome life to historical figures and fantasy busts” and carving “extraordinary likeness and psychological life within richly tactile, modeled work”(Butler 80). All of these elements of Belleuse can be seen in his bust, Shakespeare (fig. 1). This bronze depiction of Shakespeare is a departure from previous portrayals of the English bard because of the way in which Belleuse approaches his representation of Shakespeare. Carrier-Belleuse’s bust of Shakespeare embodies the struggle of sculptors to modernize within the strict confines of 19th-century expectations of sculpture. This struggle is illustrated through the depiction of Shakespeare as a philosopher and parallels the struggles of 19th-century playwrights to create modern works.

This bust of Shakespeare by Carrier-Belleuse is a powerful and focused work. The proportions of the bust are slightly smaller than life sized but realistic. The intensity of the bust is especially palpable through the gaze of Shakespeare because at a particular angle his eyes interlock with the viewer. His gaze is concentrated as if the sculpture’s eyes are looking into the interior of the viewer rather and therefore engage the viewer as opposed to an indifference to the viewer’s presence. The narrowness of the nose coupled with the protruding cheek bones and winkled brow stresses the gaze of Shakespeare. The face narrows to a point at Shakespeare’s chin which just grazes the right side of his robe. The facial hair on the bust is extremely detailed as Belleuse makes it appear as if each individual strand of hair is naturally growing forth from the face of the sculpture. Belleuse is able to create the same effect with the hair producing from the bust’s head as each hair is seemingly deeply rooted into the scalp of the statue. This feature can be seen most prominently at the hairline where Belleuse took the time to sculpt individual pieces of hair before culminating into the hair as a whole. The ears are another prominent feature on this bust as they are well defined and assist in creating the illusion of narrowness. This is accomplished by the slanted angle at which the ears are positioned helping to outline the edges of Shakespeare’s face.

View 2 of fig. 1. Albert-Ernest Carrier-Belleuse. Shakespeare. 19th-Century. Bronze. Meade Art Museum, Amherst College.
View 2 of fig. 1. Albert-Ernest Carrier-Belleuse. Shakespeare. 19th Century. Bronze. Mead Art Museum, Amherst College.

However, the features which are most emphasized on Shakespeare are the forehead and brow. The forehead extends beyond the width of the rest of Shakespeare’s face drawing immediate attention to it. The largeness of the forehead is especially seen from the profile view as his hairline starts far back on his head attracting a more focused gaze to the forehead. The forehead of this bust is especially reflective underneath the light as the bronze surface creates a sheen of light which is continuously cast and actively projects on Shakespeare. There are also small indentations on the scalp which allow for varied areas of shadow and light on the forehead. The brow is an extremely detailed area on this bust with intertwining and tensed wrinkles giving the appearance that Shakespeare is concentrating on something intently. The deep creases in the brow allow for light to be dispersed at varied angles and highlight the folds concentrated at the center of the brow. The profile perspective, on either side of the bust, depicts protruding veins sprouting from the brow to the back of the head (view 2 of fig. 1). The emphasis on the features of the forehead and the brow not only create the illusion of thought but that the brain, and Shakespeare’s capacity to think, is beyond what his own skull can contain. This particular way of depicting genius by emphasizing the forehead derives from the Northern Renaissance specifically in the works of Albrecht Dürer. For instance, in Dürer’s Self Portrait, Dürer utilizes light casting onto his head and the large size of his forehead to signify his own genius (fig. 3). Therefore, Belleuse is calling upon these ideas and utilizing them within Shakespeare to refer to Shakespeare’s status as a genius.

fig. 3 Albrecht Dürer. Self-Portrait. 1500. Oil on wood panel. Alte Pinakothek Museum, Munich, Germany.
fig. 3 Albrecht Dürer. Self-Portrait. 1500. Oil on wood panel. Alte Pinakothek Museum, Munich, Germany.
fig. 4 Raphael. The School of Athens. 1511-12. Fresco. Stanza della Signature, Vatican, Rome.
fig. 4 Raphael. The School of Athens. 1511-12. Fresco. Stanza della Segnatura, Vatican, Rome.

Another interesting facet to Shakespeare is the clothing that Belleuse chose to depict Shakespeare in. Extending from Shakespeare’s right shoulder and crossing diagonally over Shakespeare’s body is a robe that is stiffly draped. On the left side, where the draped robe disappears, the striated tunic with two tassels emerges. The collar of the shirt props up broadly suspended above the tunic. The left side shows dress typical of the 16th century while the portion of robe on the right side harkens back to the traditional depiction of busts of “great men”, such as politicians, philosophers, scientists, authors and other men who could be considered as intellectuals. The image of philosophers being portrayed in long flowing robes was cultivated in Italian Renaissance art such as in Raphael’s School of Athens (fig. 4). This image of philosophers in robes was carried on by sculptors in their portrayal of philosophers. Louis-François Roubiliac’s bust Plato exemplifies this interpretation of philosophers as he crafted Plato wearing robes (fig. 5). However, the ‘robe-ing’ of busts soon continued beyond strictly philosophers to encompass other “great men” such as Roubiliac’s bust of Isaac Newton who is also depicted in a robe (fig. 6).

fig. 5 Louis-François Roubiliac. Plato. 18th century. Marble. Trinity College Library, Dublin, Ireland.
fig. 5 Louis-François Roubiliac. Plato. 18th century. Marble. Trinity College Library, Dublin, Ireland.
fig. 6 Louis-François Roubiliac. Isaac Newton. 18th century. Marble. Trinity College Library, Dublin, Ireland.
fig. 6 Louis-François Roubiliac. Isaac Newton. 18th century. Marble. Trinity College Library, Dublin, Ireland.
fig. 7 Louis-François Roubiliac. Portrait Bust of William Shakespeare. 18th-Century. Terra-cotta. British Museum, London, England.
fig. 7 Louis-François Roubiliac. Portrait Bust of William Shakespeare. 18th Century. Terra-cotta. British Museum, London, England.

But what makes Carrier-Belleuse’s interpretation of Shakespeare unique in comparison to previous depictions of Shakespeare in sculpture? Louis-François Roubiliac actually tried his hand at creating a sculpture of Shakespeare. Roubiliac was commissioned by the actor David Garrick to create a monumental sculpture of Shakespeare. Roubiliac first created a terra-cotta bust of Shakespeare as a model for the monumental marble piece (fig. 7). This bust is rather a traditional interpretation of the bard in the sense that there is no real emotion in the piece. Roubiliac’s Portrait Bust of William Shakespeare is a rather conventional presentation of Shakespeare and a traditional approach to crafting a bust. Busts were essentially meant to function as a preserved, immortal image of a person, nothing more. Therefore what is missing in Roubiliac’s Portrait Bust of William Shakespeare is the illusion of thought or any emotion, and instead the bust simply greets the viewer with a blank stare. Roubiliac’s bust is not nearly as engaging as Belleuse’s interpretation of Shakespeare and the only element that is similar between the two is that the robe is present yet again. In many ways Belleuse’s Shakespeare builds upon Roubiliac’s interpretation of Shakespeare as Belleuse takes this conventional representation of Shakespeare and adds the illusion of internalized thought. By giving his bust the appearance that it is thinking of its own accord, Belleuse goes beyond traditional representations of “great men” and makes the bust an active work of art by engaging the viewer in the work.

But why did Belleuse decide to represent Shakespeare and why did Belleuse want to depict Shakespeare in such a philosophical manner? Belleuse might have picked Shakespeare as a subject for one of his busts because Shakespeare, during the 19th century, represented a form of artistic liberation for the French. This was due to the fact that 19th-century playwrights were enduring the same struggles of 19th-century sculptors (Haines 100). The struggle for both 19th-century sculptors and playwrights was that they had to contend with critics who did not want sculptors or playwrights to craft works that broke out of the traditional mold and in fact critical “reaction against reforming ideas was…violent”(Haines 100). Sculpture during this period was forced to “develop within the confines of the new classicizing aesthetic” meaning that most sculpture at the time was presented as “variations on some well-known antique figures”(Potts 38-9). Therefore, many 19th-century sculptors and playwrights were faced with the question of how to modernize their works while still adhering to the strict expectations of what sculpture and plays, respectively, were supposed to do and how sculpture and plays were supposed to be structured. Charles Molin Haines muses in his book, Shakespeare in France: criticism: Voltaire to Victor Hugo, about the difficulties that French writers had to deal with leading up to the 19th century stating that, “young authors made their début as ardent devotees of the rules, and, when encouraged by success, emancipated themselves as far as their audiences would allow them from the strict canon” (Haines 111). However, through the rise of popularity in Shakespeare’s plays in the early 19th century, French playwrights were able to find a new icon to inspire them in their works and were able to stage new productions of Shakespeare’s plays freeing themselves to produce works that broke away from the strict rules which were imposed upon them. In the article Shakespeare in Europe: Introduction, MIT Global Shakespeares, Aneta Mancewicz comments on the influence Shakespeare had on French writers by affirming that the writers of the early 19th century “praised Shakespeare for his masterful poetry and characterization, drawing on his works in their critical and creative writings”. This is why Belleuse chose to depict Shakespeare: to represent the way in which other artists in French society were able to break free of established artistic tradition.

Although, it is important to note that Shakespeare’s influence over French playwrights did not occur easily. At some of the first stagings of Shakespearean plays in France, such as Othello in Porte-Saint-Matin during July of 1822, the reaction by French audiences to Shakespeare was volatile. During this particular attempt it was said that at the play “not a word could be heard, violent altercations took place, apples and oranges were thrown” and additionally the audience shouted “Parlez Français” at the actors (Jusserand 451). This reaction was mostly due to the perception of Shakespeare as a “barbarous” because French audiences did not enjoy Shakespeare’s scenes showcasing low humor (Haines 74). However, once Napoleon fell out of power this opened up opportunities for artists of all sorts and “the Romantic revolution began”(Haines 108). Once leaders of the Romantic movement in France began to endorse Shakespeare’s works they, along with Shakespeare, became immensely popular. Victor Hugo even gave Shakespeare a ringing endorsement proclaiming that, “‘the poetic summit of modern times: Shakespeare is the drama…the form proper to the third state of civilization, the literature of reality’”(Haines 132). This catapulted Shakespeare into “the Pantheon of the literary gods” in France which lead to “French painters, poets, and musicians (being)…of one mind” and beginning to take a real interest in portraying Shakespeare as an esteemed playwright and poet (Jusserand 459). This idea of Shakespeare as an enlightened thinker is what Belleuse was attempting to depict in his bust of Shakespeare.

By depicting Shakespeare as a genius Belleuse not only cements Shakespeare’s popularity in France, but demonstrates that artistic tradition can be modernized. This is achieved not just by Shakespeare as the subject of the bust but by the way in which Shakespeare is represented in the sculpture. Belleuse purposely presents Shakespeare as a genius philosopher by crafting a forehead and brow littered with wrinkles giving the illusion that Shakespeare is intently concentrating. The forehead representing genius is based on iconography developed during the Northern Renaissance, exemplified in Dürer’s Self Portrait. To make this image of Shakespeare even more powerful Belleuse utilizes sculptural tradition of busts, the robe which he drapes across the upper body of the bust, to signify and equate Shakespeare to philosophers and other “great men”. Belleuse presents all of this imagery to the viewer to make an overt counter to the previous doubt of Shakespeare’s genius but also to point out to other sculptors of the time that if 19th-century playwrights were able to break from the confining nature and dictates of stage drama through Shakespeare then sculptors too could break free from the neoclassical expectations of critics. Shakespeare is evidence that sculpture in the 19th century could be modern and that a bust could inspire a reaction in the viewer and engage them while looking at a bust.

Bibliography

Butler, Ruth, Suzanne G. Lindsay, and Alison Luchs. European Sculpture of the Nineteenth Century. Washington: National Gallery of Art, 2000. Print.

Haines, Charles Moline. Shakespeare in France; criticism : Voltaire to Victor Hugo. London: Pub. for the Shakespeare association, by H. Milford, Oxford university press, 1925.

Potts, Alex. “I. Classical Figures. Surface Values: Canova,” The Sculptural Imagination: Figurative, Modernist, Minimalist, pp.38-59.

Jusserand, Jean Jules. Shakespeare in France under the ancien régime. New York : American Scholar Publications, 1966.

Mancewicz, Aneta. “Shakespeare in Europe: Introduction, MIT Global Shakespeares.” MIT Global Shakespeares. MIT, 7 Feb. 2012. Web. 27 Nov. 2014.

M. Caygill, Treasures of the British Museum, 2nd edition. London: The British Museum Press, 1992.

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Schoenbaum, S. Shakespeare’s Lives. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1970. Print.

Baker, Malcolm. The Making of Portrait Busts in the Mid-Eighteenth Century: Roubiliac, Scheemakers and Trinity College, Dublin. The Burlington Magazine, Vol. 137, No. 1113 (Dec., 1995), pp. 821-831.