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CAROL MANN

modigliani
w ith 150 illustr ations, 20 in colour

T&H

SM6J1VlOTEKA
(pabA 3A lt1CT(JIMJY YMETHDC , ,
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THAMES AND HUDSON
A Ina rndre
Frolilispiccc Rose Caryatid (L' Audace), c. 1913
Unlessotherwise indicated, all translations from
the French and Italianare by theauthor.
Any copyofthis bookissued by the publisher
as a paperback is sold subject to the condition
thatitshall not by wayoftradeorotherwise
be lent, re-sold, hired outorotherwisecirculated,
withoutthe publisher's priorconsent,
in any formofbindingorcoverotherthan that
in whichit is published and withouta similar
conditionincluding these words being imposed
ona subsequent purchaser.
1980Thamesand HudsonLtd, London.
All rights reserved. No part ofthis publication
may be reproduced ortransmitted in any form or
by any means, electronicor mechanical, including
photocopy, recording, orany informationstorageand
retrieval system, without permission in writing
from the publisher.
Printedand bound in Great Britain by
Jarroldand Sons Ltd, Norwich.
Acknowledgments
Italy: theearlyyears
Montmartre 1906-09
Sculpture 1909-14
Montparnasse 1914-17
'I Nudes
(,
Thelast years 1917-20
Bibliography
List ofillustrations
Index
Contents
6
7
3
1
55
89
135
161
208
210
21
5
Acknowledgments
Thailks for help and moral support to Ronald Alley, Dana Belmont,
C hristinc Bern ard, Chrissi e Lindey, Lila Mann, Achim Moeller,
Marcvna Vorobev, the infinitely patient staff at the Victoria and Albert
MusL' un! Library . .. and of course Is abelle and Sylvie in Paris.
Special thanks to Lord Alastair Gordo n.
Carol Mann
CHAPTER ONE
Hilly: the early years
i l" It' II sL' d to be a law in Ital y which prohibited the seizure of possessions
1111 111 Ili e bed ofa wo man in labour; this was most fortunate, because on 12
liil \ I when the bailiff called on 4 via delle Vill e in Li vorno, Signora
11 'I " ' lli :l Modigliani was giving birth, under a mound offamily heirlooms,
I" 1" ' 1 ('ourth and last child, a son who was to be called Amedeo Clemente.
I Ill' Elmily had certainly come down in the world, probabl y because of
il l' in business matters by the paterfamilias, Flaminio Modigliani. In
I (I, I "cars, Amedeo was to claim that he came from a famil y of bankers-
II lI ll 1':lrtially true, but like everything he was to claim, not entirely untrue.
J I" :1L't ual nature of Flaminio's business is not quite cl ear; it seems that
1l lll i.llly he had a cambio, that is a money exchange; this was normall y an
I III'IlId y lucrative occupation in Italy's second largest port, but one that
. 1, 111. 1IIded a commerciall y orientated mind which he did not have -
il dlllligh his cousins in Rome certainly did. The Modigliani were Sephardic
I,"" that is Jews whose culture had remained M edi terranean. They had
" III',ill;)lIy come from Spain, fle eing the Inquisition, to a far more liberal
I, ,il y, where they had become extremely prosperous tradesmen; one
II" "stor, Abramvita, had been a councillor to Napoleon. In the middle of the
1lll ldl'Cnth century, Flaminio's father had been sent to expand th e exchange
I'1 1, illess in Li vorno, a freeport where Jews were respected and encouraged.
A Iter the ruin, Flaminio engaged in the less hazardo us commerce of wood
,111,1 l' oal, but the family continued to live in a comfo rtable, unostentatious
"'.llllier. Money and material possessions were despised, es peciall y by his
Eugenia 's side of the family; as she had populated the house with her
,, 1V1l tribe, the Garsin, it was their way of thinking that prevailed. Amedeo,
.dkctionately called Dedo, was named after two of them: Eugenia's
1'\ t r:tvagant brother Amedeo, a pla yboy of sorts who made and lost three
I,.rt:unes and was to finance Dedo's studies in Venice, and her sister
( :kment ine, who was the only one who had stayed in Marseilles where
I :,lIgenia herself was born .
The Garsin were Sephardic Jews too; they had originated in Tunis and
'. ' ttled in Livorno in the eighteenth century. Part of the famil y had moved to
Marseilles, so that there was always a connection between the two countries,
7
;llld the GJrsin were as a result bilingual. They valued education and liberal
tlllnking and venerated Baruch Spinoza (who may have been an
;IIICl'sLOr), Moses Mendelssohn, Uriel da Costa and anyone who was
;ISS(HI;ltcd with the great tradition of Jewish free thinking; philosophers,
POl'tS ;Ind writers who had been persecuted for their beliefs, artistes maudits
cOllcic-lllned by society were seen as heroes,
Wh ill' ncvcr denying their Jewishness in any way (in any case, persecution
ofJews comparable to that which went on in Northern Europe had not been
experiellced since the sixteenth century), the Garsin, unlike the Modigliani,
were not observant in their religion; so when Eugenia arrived in Livorno,
aged sevellteen, on the arm of her new spouse, his family of successful
tradespeople seemed very strait-laced, and their material interests were quite
alien to her. Between I872 and I884, she bore Flaminio four children:
Emanuele, the socialist militant, Margherita, who never married and who
was to bring up Modigliani's daughter Jeanne, Umberto, an eccentric
engineer, and Dedo,
Eugenia then proceeded to import her own family to Livorno: her father,
the temperamentallsaac Garsin (her mother had died from tuberculosis), and
her sister Laure whose sense of reality sometimes wavered, Both in fact
suftered from acute paranoia, but they were Dedo's favourite relations. A
strong current of mental instability runs through the Garsin family, and it is
important to understand this in relation to Dedo's subsequent behaviour in
Paris. His debonair uncle Amedeo appears to have been extremely
unbalanced, and many similarities had already been seen by Eugenia herself
between uncle and nephew; his aunt Gabriella committed suicide in I9I5,
and his own brother Umberto was given to temperamental excesses. But
the family tolerated and helped its more unconventional members, who
actively contributed to Dedo's education.
The household was divided in two: Flaminio, alone on one side, everyone
else on the other; they all depended on the formidable character of Eugenia.
It is not so much that she bbmed her husband for their financial ruin, but for
the fact that he did not appear to have any redeeming intellectual qualities;
even if he had, it would have been hard to confront the scholarly Garsin
barrage with any kind of independent argument; so Flaminio preferred to
retire to his own world: it was probably safer for him to appear self-effacing
in order to achieve any kind ofdomestic tranquillity. It is possible that Dedo
came to understand this years later, when he in turn shied away from
dogmatic artists, who were otherwise his equals in every way.
In I886, Eugenia decided to supplement the family income by working;
probably the aim was partly to cast herself in the role of the self-righteous
mother sacrificing all to bring up her children (a rather characteristic Jewish
II . ,I",l r( hal ideal). And she revelled at the idea of doing something so
I' '1\,,' ly nonconformist in the face of her husband's conservative family. She
II " ",1. ,i:cd Gabriele D' Annunzio, ghost-wrote articles on Italian literature for
ii , t\ 1I1l'rican writer and then, with the help of her sister Laure, herself a
1111 '" \ critic, opened an experimental school for children from middle-class
1" ," .ll l'S with intellectual pretensions - quite an achievement in this sleepy
Iii " vIli cial city, She was hel ped in her efforts by Rodolfo Mondolfi, perhaps
;111 '" (1st erudite scholar in Livorno and also a spiritualist; he brought Dante
III ,) Nll stradamus to the Garsin programme, and these were two sources that
I " , I" was to refer to all his life: in Paris he would recite Dante at length, and a
II"",her of portrait drawings bear quotations from Nostradamus's
1'1' ;j ldions,
I ,lIlre represented the avant-garde in an already progressive household:
II, ' 1',Irticular interests were Friedrich Nietzsche, Henri Bergson and Piotr
\ I, l , ,'Ievitch Kropotkin, all of whom she made Dedo study. So from the
, ' \ heginning, he was taught to question established values and to be self-
, "I" ,ii, in order to aim at continuously surpassing himself. These ideals are
I" I" , round in most oflate nineteenth-century thinking, but above all in that
, I N H,:tzsche, whose doctrines provided Modigliani with a philosophical
I, IIlIl'work for his own ideas,
What he learned from this mixed intellectual background was chiefly
I. tI ,' l :lI1ce, and from his eccentric relations a certain degree of psychological
1,'1 I, ,' ption. This enabled him to understand and befriend a wide range of
i'l " pic in Paris, His respect for genius, again based on Nietzsche, enabled him
II, " 'L', before anyone else, beyond Maurice Utrillo's alcoholism and Cha'im
' " '1,lll1e'S frankly repellent appearance.
Tile Modigliani household was seen by the locals as an eccentric but
I'" Illcian one. Eugenia dressed in rather extraordinary clothes, and presided
1,\ \'I" tea-parties where the tone was distinctly Anglophile. A friend ofDedo's
1" IIIl'mbers going there and drinking tea for the first time - something
I ,vurnese society did not (and still does not) indulge in; the effect on the poor
I'''Y was soporific. Dedo in turn would go to this friend's house to enjoy the
" "',1 Iii cccci, a typically northern Italian working-class dish made of chick-
1'(' ",. which was his favourite. At home, all aspects of English culture were
i.llil ired, especially those linked to its traditional liberalism; Oscar Wilde
w , ~ something of a family hero, and the last gift Eugenia made to her son
1" lme he left for Paris was a beautifully bound copy of The Ballad ofReading
I :uol. Although Dedo was bilingual in Italian and French, it is not entirely
,I";lr as to how fluent he was in English at this time.
As the youngest child and a strikingly beautiful one at that, Dedo grew up
1,IIher capricious and undisciplined, all the more indulged since he was sick
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9
with vJ rious pulmonary compl ai nts. Summer r895: 'Dedo has been
seriously ill with pleurisy and I haven't quite recovered from the terribl e
sene hL' has given me. The child' s character is not quite formed for me to
give herc an opini on of it. Hi s manners are those of a spoilt child who is not
la ckin g in intelli gence. We shall see wha t lies insi de thi s chrysalis. Maybe an
It is generall y pres umed tha t it "vas during childhood that he
collt ractcd tuberculosis, but this is hard to determine beca use his mother
nL've r menti ons it in her diaries. Certainly, in the photographs, he looks
7 hL'.l lth y cnough and during his adolescence even port ly. But it is certain that
his childhood illnesses weakened hi s lungs; he may also have already
colltra cted the dormant va ri et y of tubercul osis, whi ch was to declare itself
when he was in his thirties, but then it was not to be of the pulmonary kind
an yway.
From her notes made in her diar y, Eugenia was picking up signal s fr om
her child that indi ca ted a visual imagination rather than a studious frame of
mind. He ma y have enjoyed drawing more than hi s brothers and sister, but
Eugenia gave credence to these inclinati ons onl y later when, in a delirio us
attack of typhoid, he revealed hi s wish to paint. Her first priority howeve r, as
she saw it, was to give her son an adequate ed uca ti on and to leave decisions
about his ca reer until he had finished hi s st udi es. This attitude is not
unreasonable, altho ugh some biographers have seen in it a desire on the part
of his famil y to repress his talent s. His mother had no point of reference as far
as her son's aspirations were concerned. The Jewish reli gion forbids the
practice of fi gurati ve art (as being an imitat ion of the di vine facult y of
creation), so witho ut necessaril y being reli gious, Eugenia did not have a
spiritual ancestor to look back on: there was no artistic equi va lent ofSpinoza
or Mendelssohn; and then Li vorno is no artistic centre, although a late
Medici creati on; it has no important historic monuments and, until recentl y,
had no museums either.
At thirteen, he underwent his barmitzvah, the Jewish ritual whereby the
adolescent is admitted into the male communit y as an adult. Hi s religio us
education was otheD'I ise kept to a minimum, and the only praye r he knew
was the Kaddish, the praye r for the dead whi ch he was to sing (for Jewish
li t ur gy is always sung) one evening at a friend's house, when he knew the
end was near.
In r 898, when Modigl iani was fourteen, his brother Emanuel e, aged
twen ty-six, was sentenced to six months' im prisonment in Li vorno for his
acti vi ties as an anarchist and a sociali st. His family - hi s mother rather than
his father - gave him moral su pport and approved hi s ideals. In the same
way, Eugenia was to cont ribute as much money as she could to her youngest
son's sur vival when he was struggling to become an artist in Paris. She wrote
10
I 1\1, "Iigliani as a schoolboy (fr ont row, third fr om right)
,, 11,"" there every month, enclos ing prepaid postcards. The few surviving
I I I , I, , how that what united them was not the stipend, which both though t
I" " "I.d, but a passionate understanding ofeach other's moti vat io ns; th e sa me
, I II ' from the corres pondence between Emanuele and hi s mother. Her
", " " IIl cering manner , altho ugh well mea ning, coul d have utterly crushed
'111 1 " III:l scul ated either of them, but it was her inherent respect tor her
\ I d.I" 11 shown by her continuous support that maintained the balance of
1111 " 'l'lati onship.
II
2 Country Road, c. 1899
Meantime, Dedo's studies at school had become particul arl y slack, much
to hi s mother ' s di smay. 17 July 1898: ' D edo has not done well at his exams,
but that does not surprise me in the least beca use he has studi ed very badl y all
year. On the first of August, he begins drawing lessons, w hich he has wanted
to for a long time. He thinks he's already a painter; as for me, I don't really
want to encourage him, in case he completely neglects his studies to pursue
thi s shadow.' Yet in the face of her son's determination, Eugenia felt she had
to submit, whatever her misgi vings.
Modigliani was enrolled in 1898 at the ar t academy in Li vorno run by
Guglielmo Micheli, a pupil of Giovanni Fattori, the famous Macchiaioli
painter. The Macchiaioli were a gro up of painters interested in naturalism
and who used techniques loosel y derived fro m Impressionism; as maccliiare
means to stain, the term was initi all y a derogatory one, just as it had been for
the Impressionist s, although by now their st yle had become recognized , even
academic.
Under Michel i, he was given a sound traditional training in portraiture,
landscape, still-life and the nude, w hich as his fellow students recall he was
best at. His interest in the nude was not purely academic, as, parallel with hi s
studies, he was busy seducing the household maid; at fift een, he may ha ve
12
I I',I/'fralf of a Young Bo), (Gugliel mo
M" hL' li 's son
t
), c. 1900
1,11 " IIl:d easily in conversation a t a rt school , but he made up for it with
I , Ill\ iderable precocity in o the r fields. A landsca pe and a couple of portraits 2,3
II" vv been ascribed to him. They are painted w ith a certain amount of skill ,
!t ill , ill their relative banalit y and lack of distinct ion, could be the work of
IIi V " f Micheli's students, and it is for this reason that th ey are not often
II I' It ltied in the biog raphies. Most w rite rs prefer to say th at all the early work
II"" di sa ppeared, ma ybe to save the mselves the embarrassment of having to
Id "tl l into the Modi gliani a?1./l/re such unassuming work. If they are not by
1\. '1 >t li gliani , the pi ctures he did paint must have been ve ry simil ar; anything
i" tl (,[" the ordinar y would have been note'd by at least one of his fellow
I tt II kilts, most of whom have left testimonials of thei r acquaintance wi th
13
Modigliani. The interest of these works is historic and although they display
SOlli e t ~ t l e l l t it is hard to say in which direction it will go.
It is interes ting to compare his early achievements to those of hi s
,I colltclIlporary Pablo Picasso (born in I SS I), when they were both the same
:tf!;c Significant parallels can be drawn at certain stages of their development.
"iclsso's earli est work in Barcelona is, if anything, more conventional and
:Icadcmi c than Modigliani 's, and he appea rs to concentrate more on technical
virtuosity tha n on sel f-expression.
There is one ra ther remarkabl e charcoal sketch very different in style from
thc previous examples and the later pictures painted in Paris: it is
5 prominentl y signed 'A. Modigl iani', and could be a self-portrait. It certainly
rcsembles his physical appearance, and the forceful elegance of the dra wing
reveals great talent and promise.
His work met with the approval of both hi s teacher and Fattori , who
would always stop at Micheli' s studio on his visits to Livorno. Modigliani
one day coloured a still-life with smoke and this met with Fattori's
admiration; his innovations were always very acceptable. He seems to have
been ver y pro ud of himself, and thi s caused Micheli to nickname him
4 Pablo Picasso, Holy
COI1l III 1m ion , 1896
" ,'lh}(lTfrail e). c. 1900
'SlIpLTlllan', especially as he quoted from Nietzsche' s Thus Spake Zarathu stra
at evny wailable opport unity. His father ironicall y referred to him as
'Bot[ icelli '.
Micheli also gave the students lectures in art hi story, which more than
anything were to influence Modigliani's artistic thinking. He got them to
write long essays on subjects they chose themselves. Modi gliani wrote on the
a fashionably deca dent subject bound to impress the other
student s. His early artistic tastes were naturally influenced by his family in
that they were so literary. Early witnesses at Mi cheli' s aca demy say that he
read Charles Baudelaire and also D'Annunzio, whose cult of corrupt
beauty expressed through Symbolist imagery influenced the whol e of
Modigli ani's generation. And then there was the relatively unheard-of - in
Livorno, at any rate - Lautreamont.
The comte de Lautrea mOll t (born Isidore Ducasse, in Montevideo, in
r 846) died in Pari s at the age of twenty-four, ridden by anxiety, after having
written Les Chan Is de Maldol'ol' , extraordinary for their poetical intensit y,
fantastical juxta pos iti ons and corrosive sadistic imagery. Considered insane
by early critics, he became the pi votal poetic source for the Surrealists ill
Paris (led by Andre Breton). Maldoror beca me Modi gliani 's favourite book,
and he learnt it by heart; the significance of thi s choice will become clear in
later chapters. The fact that he knew and appreciated this book so early on is
6 Sheli/ing-siand, T898 (a nd
de(ail s opposi(e)
II' ",dication of the exten t of hi s somewhat unsystematic er udition and also
'" "11 portant pointer as to the nature of his tastes.
I .IlItreamont, Nietzsche, Bergson, even D' Annunzio and Wilde, all
II IVdl.l[ed in their different ways the cult of the indi vidual creative mind
, ; I"tl ed from society by the independence of his intuiti ve beli efs and will to
II rt:dization. Modiglian i upheld this ideology all hi s life by. assuming the
",I , "I ' the decadent artiste maudit.
litis outlook influenced some aspects of his imagery both in Li vorno and
,'i " ". III 1898, the year he started ar t school (and according to his mother,
d" Id V convinced he was an artist), he painted a shelving-stand with his 6
17
friend Uberto MondolfJ, the son of Roberto who had helped Eugenia
Modigliani with her school. Uberto had thought up the iconography: a
woman with a skull onone side, a man on the other- a rather Symbolist-
cum-jIlc!(clldstil image, not very skilfully painted. Romiti, a fellow student,
says thatalittle later Modiglianiwas thinkingabouta picture to be entitled
Till' SOliS of the Swan which recalls the Pre-Raphaelites or D' Annunzio in
concept, but unfortunately no trace remains.
It was at the CatIe Bardi rather than at Micheli's that he learntabout the
latest trends. There the local established and also aspiring artists would
congregate - Modigliani, Natali, Sommati, Romiti, Martinelli and many
others - and compare standpoints. The importance of cafes for
Mediterraneanartists must not be underestimated. It is partofthe intimate
fabric oftheir lives; the route from the CatIe Bardi (or the Quatre Gats in
Barcelona) to La Rotondein Paris is adirectone. Indeeditwasfor theCatIe
BardithatModiglianiheadedwhenhewastoreturnbrieflytoLivornoin the
summerof1912, looking for his old friends who wereall, by then, leading
undistinguished careers, not all of them in art. Modigliani was
unrecognizable; instead ofthe quiet nonchalant young man, here was a
haggardwild-eyed sculptor, dressed like a tramp, who ordered absinthe in
irascible tones. When he proudly showed his friends photographs ofhis
sculptures, they looked at him aghast and said he was mad. This certainly
reinforces the idea that his early work must have been extremely
conventional,if nottotally undistinguished. Modiglianiwas nevertoreturn
to Livorno again.
Like many precocious adolescents, Modigliani felt unable to com-
municate with his exact contemporaries and he chose friends older than
himself, among them Uberto Mondolfi and Oscar Ghiglia, both seven or
eight years older than he was. We shall see how this trend was later to be
reversed, and Modigliani was to look for the admiration of younger
companions. Oscar was eight years older than Modigliani, a jack-of-all-
trades, self-taught but extremely talented, and he was to lead a successful
careeras an artist. He may have shown Modigliani how limited his life in
Livorno was, especially ifhe had aspirations to fame and self-realization.
Their correspondence, ofwhich Modigliani's letters survive, shows the
importanceofthis friendship.
In I90I, when Modiglianiwasseventeen, Eugeniadecided to takehimon a
trip to Capribecause ofhis healthand becauseshe realized thathersonwas
getting restless at home. During this trip, he wrote a number ofrevealing
letterstoOscar,whichareouronlydocumentsonhisintimatethoughtsand
feelings at the time. The vocabulary at times is rather mannered, and the
.,11tences convoluted; he uses writing as a means ofworking outideas, and
III It ofstatinghis conclusions, hence theoccasional verboseconfusion, with
.ll.Ides ofBaudelaireandD' Annunzio;butunderneathitall runsacurrentof
\\.mnthand enthusiasm that infuses these letters with unique poetry. The
II :lI1slation has been kept as literal as possible, complete with original
1111derlining, paragraphs and lack ofcapitals.
Ilcarest Ghiglia
andthistimeanswerunlessyourhonourshaveweighedyourpendown.I
Il:lve just read in the 'Tribune' the announcement ofyour acceptance in
Ve nice: OscarGhiglia, self-portrait. Isuppose thatit is the self-portraityou
"11l1ke to meaboutandthatyou werealready planningin Livorno. Irejoice
I()I' you very much and most sincerely. You can believe that this news has
"':Jily moved me. Iamhere in Capri, a delightful place, by the way to look
.11 ll'[ my health. It is now four months that Ihave notbroughtanything to
,()nclusion,just accumulated material. I shall soon be going to Rome and
Illen Venice for theExhibition...I'm behavinglikean Englishtourist. But
IIIL' timewillsooncomewhenIprobablywill have to settlein Florenceand
work- in the best sense ofthe word, that is to dedicate myselfwith faith
' ''''ad and body) to organizing and developing all the impressions, all the
"i l'lls ofideas that I have accumulated in this peaceful place as in a mystic
f', .lrden. But let's talk about you: we left each other at the most critical
Ilolllt of ourintellectualdevelopmentand wehavegoneourseparateways.
I,houldlike to meet you now and talk to you.
I l u nottake thisletteras oneof vulgarcongratulationsbutas atestimonyto
Illl' sincere interest in you from your friend
Modigliani
Ilotel Pagano, Capri.
Villa BitterAnacapri The Island ofCapri
I karest Oscar
,Iill inCapri. Iwantedto waitto writeto youfrom Rome:Ishall gotherein
IIVO orthreedays, butthewish totalktoyoualittlehasmademetakeupmy
Ill'n. I do believe that you've changed under the influence of Florence.
WouldyoubelievethatI haveas well,travellingin thesep l c e s ~ Capriwhose
Il:lme alone would evoke in my mind a tumult ofimages ofbeauty and
i11tique sensuality appears to me essentially a symbol ofspringtime. In the
I 1.lssical beautyof thislandscape thereis (formeatanyrate) anomnipresent
.llld indefinable feeling ofvoluptuousness. And even (despite the English
III \fading withtheirBaedekers) aglitteringand venomous flower emerging
Imlll thesea.
" " much for poetry. Imaginebesides (thesethingsonly happen in Capri) in
IIIL' countrysidebymoonlight withaNorwegiangirl,alone...in truthrather
18
19
erotic but also very pretty. I don't exactly know when I shall be in Venice;
besides, I shall let you know. I should like to visit it with you. Micheli? Good
Goel, how many there are in Capri ... whole regiments.
How's Vinzio? He's made a good start with that little picture of his. Is he
progressing or is he staying put? Answer me. And that is really why I am
writing, to know what is going on with you and with the others.
Creetings to Vinzio Ciao Dedo
April 1St. Write Rome, Poste Restante.
Dear friend
i write to pour myself out to you and to affirm myself to myself.
I am the prey of great powers that surge forth and then disintegrate.
But I should like my life to be as an opulently abundant river flowing over
the land with joy. You are novv the one I can henceforth tell everything to :
well- I am rich and fecund with germination and I have need of the work.
I have the excitation [orgasmo in the original Italian J, but the excitation which
precedes joy, which will be followed by the dizzying uninterrupted activity
of the intelligence. Already after having written this, I think that such a state
of excitation is a good thing. And I shall free myselffrom this excitation by
throwing myself into the great fight, hazard, war with a kind of energy and
lucidity hitherto unknown.
I would like to tell you what are the new weapons with which I take up more
the joys of battle.
A bourgeois told me today - insulted me - that I or at least my brain was
lazy. It did me good. I should like such a warning every morning upon
awakening: but they cannot understand us nor can they understand life.
I shall not speak of Rome. As I speak to you Rome is not outside but inside
me, like a terrible jewel set upon its seven hills, as upon seven imperious
ideas.
Rome is the orchestration which girds me, I isolate myself within her limits
and place there my thoughts. Her feverish sweetness, her tragic countryside,
her own beauty and harmony, all these are mine, for my thought and for my
work.
But I cannot tell you all the impressions that I have found in her, nor all the
truths.
I am going to start on a new work and since having defined and formulated
it, a thousand new ideas surge forth from everyday life. You can see the
necessity of method and application.
I am also trying to formulate with the greatest lucidity the truth about art
and life gained scattered amidst the beauties of Rome and as I have
understood their intimate link, I shall seek to reveal and to recompose their
construction, I could nearly say their metaphysical architecture, in order to
create my truth of life beauty and art. Goodbye. Speak to me about you as I
speak to you. Isn't this the aim of friendship: to shape and exalt the will
.Ilcording to its bent, to reveal oneself to the other and then to both
, lurselves.
( ;llodbye your Dedo
I lcarest Oscar
hlU had promised me a daily account of your life from the time we separated
IIlltilnow ... I await it impatiently.
!\s for me not keeping my promise, I cannot do so because I'm incapable of
k"cping a diary. Not only because no exterior event has penetrated my life,
I'i It also because those that take place in one's innermost soul cannot be
" \ pressed whilst we are still under their domination.
\V hy write when you are still in the process offeeling? These are all stages of
,'volution through which we have to pass and that have no importance other
Ilwl the goal they lead us to. Believe me, the only work which is worthy of
Il<'ing translated into style is that which has arrived at the end of its gestation,
1IIIIy mature and freed from all the cumbersome incidents that have
, '>Iltributed to fecund and produce it. The efficacity and necessity of a style is
III that it separates the idea from its creator leaving room for all that cannot
IIld should not be expressed, and style is the only vocabulary that can bring
'lilt this idea.
I' vcry great work of art should be considered like any work of nature. First
"I ,dl from the point of view of its aesthetic reality and then not just from its
,I,'velopment and the mastery ofits creation but from the standpoint of what
II.IS moved and agitated its creator. These are purely dogmatic questions
,illyway,
I lilt rather, why haven't you written to me? What about your paintings? I
Il.lve read the description of one of them in an article in the 'Corriere'. I
,,111l10t bring forth a picture yet; I have to stay at a local hotel; you realize the
1111 possibility of dedicating myself to a painting; however, mentally and in
II, L' contemplation of nature I am working very much. I think I shall end up
,ILll1ging residence: the savagery of tourists and holiday-makers renders
,'"lcentration, especially that I now most need it, completely impossible. I'll
ililish by going to the Austrian Tyrol. Don't speak about it at home yet.
I( ,'cp on writing Hotel Misurina, Misurina. Goodbye. Write to me, send me
\ \ 1 1 ~ 1 t you have promised. The habit of contemplating the countryside and
i11,ine nature will mark, I think, one of the greatest changes in my spirit. I
.Il< ,uld like to speak to you of the difference between the artists who have
II 1\)St communicated and lived with nature and those who today seek their
III,spiration in their studies and want to educate themselves in art cities.
I Illes one amuse oneself in Livorno
[no signa ture]
I 't ,Irest Oscar
I have received your letter and regret tremendously the loss of
II ll' first one you sent to me. I understand your distress and your
,1 ,,( ouragement and this alas more from the tone of your letter than from its
" t lIal contents. I can guess the reason and believe me, I too have suffered and
20
21
feci for you, sincerely. I don't exactly know yet the events that have caused
this , but knowing you are a noble: soul, I know that this situation must have
produced a sad reduction of yourself, of the right you have to joy and life, as
well J S bringing you to this state ofdispiritedness. Again I do not know what
the reasons are, I repea t, but I believe that the best remedy 'vvould be to send
you J breath of life from my sturdy heart because you arc created, believe
me, for intense life and joy. We (forgive the 'we') have different rights from
other peo pl e which place us above - one has to say and believe it - their
morality. Your duty is not to consume yourself in the sacrifice. Your real
duty is to save your dream. Beauty has some painful duties yet they bring
about the most beautiful exertions of the soul. Each obstacle that we
overcome indicates an increase in our will-power, and produces the necessary
and progressive renewal of our ambition. You must have the sacred belief
(and I say this for you ... and for me) in everything that can exalt and excite
your intelligence to its maximum creative power. For this we must fight.
Can we confine this research within the narrow limits of their morality?
Affirm and surpass yourself always. The man who cannot spring
continuously from his energy new desires and almost fresh creations destined
to affirm himselfand crush everything is not a man but a bourgeois, a freak,
call him what you will. You are suffering, you are right, but couldn't your
suffering spur you on to a further renewal and to elevate yo ur dream still
hi gher, even stronger than desire? You could have come this month to
Venice, but take your time to decide, don' t exhaust yourself, get used to
putting your aesthetic needs above your duties towa rds men. If you wish
to flee Livorno, I can help you as much as I am able to, but I don' t know ifit
is necessa ry. It would be ajoy for me, Answer me in any case. From Venice, I
have received the most precious teachings of m y life; from Venice, I seem to
go forth with a feeling of fulfilmen t just like after completing a work.
Venice, head of Medusa with countless blue serpents, sea green immense eye
in which the soul is lost and exalted to the infini ... [infinite is what he meant,
the word is incomple:te.]
[no signature]
With Oscar, as with no one else, he could fill his overflowing need for self-
expression; for the youthful Modigliani was more a
question of clarifying his ideas to a receptive listener than a real discussion o f
ideals; his passion for Oscar was based on what united them as ideali sts, on
their solidarity as exceptional beings ..vho spurned conventional society and
bourgeois morality. We do not know to what extent Oscar actively
supported these ideas, but they are fairly typical of their ger _,a tion, as
Modigliani was to discover later in Venice where he met the young men of
his generation who were to invent Futurism.
From his letters, we get occasional glimpses of his daily life. In Capri, he
has a brief affair with a Norwegian girl (he was frequently to choose Nordic
"! Modigliani as an adolescent
22
love rs): , liI'I IIII ''11 11,,111111 ,II'llIal
girl . He is annoyed by Engli sh roUI"I" \\' 1, 01 ' 'i ,dil i ,II il l " ,Iii ,,1 111111 1' o n
their Grand Tour. A bo urgeois tJlIlll 'l 1iIlIl ,.11 , 1111]1 101 II ..1' 1' 1' lime
and being lazy: Modigliani is deli g lll".\ .111.1 , \"' ,, .11" I II Ii I II Iii ,
affr o nt , whi ch only rei nforces hi s beliel ill I, w , 1 \ ' I" Ii " i Ii III . ! II 11' 01 "" ,, : the
bourgeois ie ' ca nnot understand us 11 01', ,III d,, ', 1I 1i11t " I II II I!!I '
is, at this stage, sensiti ve about na t lill', ",h " Ii , ' 1111 1, 1, 1111 1' 1,1 ', , 110 " '1' as a
port raitist and hi s essentially urban ill 1'.111 '" ; '1 Ii III I" I " Ii
Fro m C apri then, he travelled to IVI "III I II I , 1".1 V. I" " \\ 1III,llit his
mother. We cannot be certain ifhe rD,lI ,' oIll " 1\ 11 ., 1; '1 11 1vl , ,j .I\ iT ,' ha d
planned. In Rome, it is likely that he c:til.-d ,\II III " "I,iI"oIl ' 1,,1 II " I" wo uld
ha ve discovered tha t he had two cousins (II' iT ", I 011 11 I I ', ,, I, II II" II ,'I'e
artists: O lga and Corinna Modigliani: ( '(1111111.' 1, 101 i"" III " .1 I'"pular
por traiti st, He w ould ha ve found them ill IIll W" V ,,01, I" 'I 10 iii" ( ,.11 ,ill,
this would have made him even more proud,,f iT I'! ill " i'\ I' \
It may be asked w hy Modigliani did not P,lilOl .1"\' ;\'" 11\ ;I", III ' Ir:lvels.
At one point, he w rites that it is impossible In 1",' 1 .1" 1'1' 11 I .. 11 1111, II I ,I hotel
room, altho ugh later in Paris he was to liv(' ,,,,, I 1' ,11111 ill such
environments; then, he writes that it is hard III ,11111' 1Il l , oIl' \\ ,iii ',II Ill an y
tourists ar ound him. The real problem was thaI iT ,. 1110 " 1 iT ,II' , 1" , " .11" loss as
to what to paint. Having discovered that Capr i \\"" I, " llIlIl f', \1 ,111 Mi chelis,
he was no longer interested in painting I1:HII 1"," "I M,I, .111 ,11,, 11 plltures,
especi all y as his own ideology was quite oppll sed I" II "I I 1I ,111I1 .iI i.q (reed.
One imagines that, had he had the opportunity (\I II,, ' 1",111," ,iI ," I HTi ellce,
he would have painted involved Symbolist pi t IllI l", I II II 1. (' 1' 11 "'rc, his
intellectual background had been mainly a literar y 1"' I""II ", lrlll , ill his
own estimation, far more from books and philosoph " .!1 , 1" ,1 " "ioll s than
from art school training, so that he basi call y still lachd ,' x IWI i'.'llce. He
was to compensate for this when he li ved in 1;1"1('111 l ' ,lllel Vellice ,
Modi gl iani 's letters give the impression that he had ,I II l'ql pr illuril y to
situate himself with in a hi gher orde r of things, to "1' 11.11 til l' moral
function of a crea tor was - wi thin the terms of rl' fl'r l' IIC'C il l' 1t:!.1 ch osen -
before actuall y creating anything. He wa nted to construci h is '1Il el. lph ysical
architecture' in which he could create his 'truth oflifL', hl':! ul y ,'1ll1 ar t ' . His
philosophy has very little direct connection with painting ;d tll l' l'thcr - his
letters could equall y well have been written by a young writer ill ril,' wake of
his own creative forces, The process o f artistic creation is l'XplaiiIL'd with
marvelloLls pe rspicuity; Modigliani repeatedly refers to and
gestation, impl ying that his rol e as a creator is a fe male O lll'. Hi s ho nesty
would have been admired by later psychoanalys ts, es peciall y as hi s letters
reveal w ith remar ka ble clarity the flow of his unconscioLls mind.
When he actuall y started painting seriously in Pa ri s, he no longer cared to
ma ke verbal statements of intent, and deepl y despised theories like C ubism
that imprisoned artists within a st ylisti c strait-jacket.
On 7 M ay 1902, we fmd Modi gliani reg istered at the Scuola Libera di Nudo
in Florence, an art academy where he could draw nudes. Henceforth and
until his death, he regularl y attended life classes.
Nothing survives from his stay in Florence; it is possibl e that much time
was spent in discuss ion with Oscar, wi th w hom he shared lodgings; this was
the first time that Mo di gliani had actuall y li ved away from home and he
probably enjoyed his new-found freedom, He had now ample opportunity
to look at Tuscan art, but it is only from his later work in Paris that we can sec
what has st ruck him the most, The artists who left an indelible mark on hi s
unconscio us mind all ca me from these regions: the sculptor Tino di
Camaino, Duccio, Sandro Botticelli, Francesco Parmigianino. He m ade a
documented trip to Pi et ra santa and Carrara , to Michelangelo's quarries, and
that may have de termined his des ire to become a sculptor; it was indeed as a
sculptor tha t he was to introduce himsel f when he arri ved in Paris. But
nothing is known of any practi cal forays in the field; it may well have
remai ned a carefully nurtured dream until Pa ris.
Oscar married in 1903; this may have been one o f the reasons whi ch made
Modigliani leave for Venice. In constant need of attent ion as h e always was,
he probably realized that Oscar now had less time for him and that he could
no lo nger be the focus of ever y discussion.
In March 1903, he arri ved in Venice, registered at a similar academy and was
probably fin anced by his uncl e Amedeo Ga rsin whose fa vourite he was, Two
yea rs ea rlier, he had decla red to Oscar that it was in Venice that he had
' received the most precious teachings' in his life, It was pro babl y then that he
had made pl ans to return one day to th e city. Venice exerted enormo us
fascination on most young artists of his generation, not least the anarchi c
Futurists, some of whom he met often at the Caffe Florian in the Piazza San
Marco,
. , 0 Venice, old procuress, who under yo ur heavy mosaic mamilla, still
eagerl y prepare exhausting romantic ni ghts, querulous serenades and
fr ig htful ambushes ' Nevertheless, 0 Venice, I used. to love the sumptuous
shade of your Grand Canal steeped in exoti c lew dness, th e hecti c pallor of
your women who slip from thei r balconies down ladders woven of
lightning, slanting rain, and moonrays t o the twi nkle of cr osses .. ,
And yet o nce you were the invincible warriors and g ifted artists,
:ll1dacious naviga tors, ingenious industrialists and tireless merchants. , . And
24 25
you h;lVe become waiters in hotels, ciceroni, pimps, antiquarians, imposters,
fakers ofold pictures, plagiarists and copyists.... Free Torcello, Burano and
when the money ran out, he moved to the artists' quarter of San Bamaba,
the Isle of the Dead from all the diseased literature and all the endless
romantic embroidery draped over them by poets poisoned with Venetian
fever ...
(R. W. Flint, ed., Marinetti: Selected Writings.)
Modigliani, like Filippo Marinetti , suffered from Venetian fever, the
fateful lure of the now decadent city. In this his Futurist Speech to the
Venetians, Marinetti umvittingly explains with poetic fervour what made
the city so attractive to young artists steeped in Symbolism at the turn of the
century. Modigliani had fOLmd a city whose whole atmosphere echoed
exactly his own feelings and he gave in to it completely, whereas Marinetti
was combating its fatal attraction by evoking grandiose visions of a
mechanized Lmiverse.
In Venice, Modigliani met Giovanni Papini and two young artists who
were to become greatly involved in Futurism: Ardengo Sofficci and
Umberto Boccioni. At that time, the three still had a great deal in common,
and their mutual ideals were based on a passionate understanding of
Nietzsche. They saw their artistic mission as a great battle against bourgt:ois
morality and prejudice; Modigliani's warlike ardour in his third letter to
Oscar was shared by all his companions. Later, the Futurists took
Nietzschean principles further by insisting on the destruction of
conventional art culture because they felt that it imprisoned people in the
virtues it incarnated; this was the only aspect of their philosophy Modigliani
was to disagree with. How surprised Modigliani would have been to know
that only a few years later (in I9IO) Boccioni was to be in vol ved with a group
of Futurist artists in the launching of 800,000 copies of Marinetti 's ' Against
Passeist Venice' manifesto, which contained suggestions like 'Let us burn the
gondolas, rocking chairs for cretins and raise to the heavens the imposing
geometry of metal bridges and howitzers plumed with smoke to abolish the
falling curves of the old architecture' (R. W. Flint, ed., Marinelti: Selected
Writings).
When collecting signatures for the Futurist manifesto in Paris in 1909,
Gino Severini thought it quite natural to approach his compatriot and friend
Modigliani and was quite startled at his refusal to sign it. The great difference
was that the exaltation Modigliani had felt in Venice was not based on a
desire to create a new civilization, but on a feeling of communion and
integration within a culture whose principles he was to renew for the
twentieth century within the framework of a tradition.
At first, Modigliani lived in the elegant San Marco area, within walking
distance of the Caffe Florian and all the fashionable meeting-places; then,
26
across the bridge from the Accademia, and finally to the Rialto, a more
working-class area; between these addresses, he shifted across Venice, staying
with new-foLmd friends or chance acquaintances, much as he was to do in
Paris. Venice lent itself to adventure and experiment, and Modigliani,
exalted by the perspective of endless possibilities, pursued pleasure and
hazard like the youthful Casanova.
It was at this time that a mysterious Baron who organized orgies for his
young companions introduced him to paradis arlificiels (artificial paradises),
namely hashish taken orally, as Baudelaire recommended. In the last
surviving letter to Oscar, Modigliani had put forward the idea that
intelligence and creativity had to be stimulated by any means; he probably
did not know about drugs at the time, but inferred that he was willing to try
anything that would exalt his imagination.
'He who looks to a poison in order to think will soon be unable to think
without it. Picture if you will the appalling fate of a man whose paralysed
imagination would be unable to function without the help of hashish.'
Baudelaire, in Les Paradis artificiels (fIrSt published in 1860) had Lillderstood
that this drug, without being necessarily physically addictive, could create a
state of mental dependence. Modigliani was to build up this mental reliance
on external stimuli , especia lly as drugs, and later alcohol , were also to
provide a refuge from what was to become an increasingly hostile world.
Venice was also the most cosmopolitan city of Ita Iy in that it attracted a
floating population ofartists, musicians and writers from al\ over the world,
drawn by its history, its myth and now by the exhibition at the Biennale that
had recently been created in 1895. So Modigliani 's world now opened up:
for the fIrSt time, he had the opportunity ofexperiencing as well as discussing
modern European art, and this was to be a revelation for him. During the
years he lived there, the Biennale showed Impressionism and Rodin rather
than the more fashionable Symbolist and Art Nouveau tendencies - Klimt
was given a show there only in I9IO. Modigliani's early work in Paris shows
that he was interested in the descriptive art of the Pre-Raphaelites, Henri de
Toulouse-Lautrec, James Abbot McNeill Whistler and Edvard Munch; he
was familiar with their work before his arrival in France. If he did not see
their work in the original, he may have seen that of their imitators who
thronged Venice, and also most European art magazines which were now
available to him, like The Studio or Th e Yellow Book or perhaps even the
satirical Assiette au Bcurre to which many avant-garde artists in France
con tri bu ted ill ustra tions.
Modigliani's own taste at that time inclined towards Art Nouveau, called
111 Italy Stile Liberty, which appears to have been somewhat less popular in
27
Vellice thanin otherItalian cities. Itwasthestyleadoptedbya moreliterary
:lVallt-garde, youthful and introspective, and cha r.a cterized by a sel f-
illllul gellt,fin-de-siecle morbidity. These were the circles where the Baron
recruited parti cipantsfor hisorgies,and this iswhereModiglianimetGuido
Cadorin , who was to become an extremely talented painter. They
immediatel y became friends although Guido was only thirteen.
Baudelairesaysthattheuseofhashishmakesonefeelextremelyprotective
towardslesser beings , butin a rather patronizingway. ButwithModigli ani
this feeling went dee per. With the exception of the occasional father
figure, he henceforth needed the unquestioning admiration of younger
frie nds, who did notechohis self-doubtsorputhis beliefs to the test. In the
face ofthediversityof opinionshewasencounteringdaily, hemay havefelt
disconcerted, disorientated even;his ownbeliefs had sprungnaturally from
hiscreativeimpulse, guidedbythestudyof NietzscheandD' Annunzio;they
didnotrestona reasonedstructureandcouldnotbequestioned withoutthe
fundamental rationalecollapsing. Passionateenthusiasm isnotto beargued
with as itgushes forth tumultuousl y, in onedirectiononly, so noreasonable
discussion co uld be possible wi th Modigliani; he was bound to take any
disagreementas a personal insult. Thiswas certainly to be the case in Paris,
where he isolated himself progressively from the literati and artists of
equivalent intellect and culture, in order to avoid confrontation. Hi s
passionate character, linked to his chronic inabil ity to distance himself
emotionally from the probl ems under discussion, made him terribly
vulnerable, and he overcompensated from the start by behaving in a
haughty,oftenaggressivewayif everhefelt in theleast bitthreatened. Two
more contributory factors must be taken into consideration when
attempting to understand his aggressiveness: hi s height and his shyness.
Although extremel y good-looking, he was rather short by contemporary
standards, measuring 5ft 5in.; moreover, since childhood, he had been
extremelyshy; his fr equentl ypugnaciousbehaviourmustbeseenasaneffort
to conceal and compensate for what he considered persona l failings.
Modigliani,it mustbe remembered, wasextremelyambitiousandexpected
promptrecognition.
In her diary, his mother indi ca tes that his main painting activity was
portraiture. Theonly known work from this periodisthe portraitofFabio
8 Mauroner. It was shown at the Biennale of1930, but until very recentl y
its whereabouts have remained unknown. The most striking fea ture o f
the portrait is the directness ofthe si tte r's gaze and the intensity ofthe
expression .Isthisonesurvivingwork propheticof whatwas to follow?The
styl e changes, but the uncompromising directness ofapproach remains the
same.
28
8Fabi o Mauroner, c. 1905
In 1905, his uncl e Amedeo Garsin died, and this meant the end ofhis
subsidy. By now, Modi gliani probabl y felt thatVenice nolonger provided
the chall engeandstimulationhe needed .He hadoutgrown the possibilities
the city offered, and, like all artists ofhis generation, felt attracted to that
Mecca ofmodern art, Paris. So in the winterofI906, heset off.
29
9 The rue Lafitte, [908
CHAPTER TWO
Montmartre 1906-09
'0 Pari ,;
Care centraledebal'cadere de.' volol1tes cal'I'efoftr des inquietudes'
(() Pari s/Central railway station landi ng- stage o f destinies cross-roads of
.1I1);ieties)
(Cendrars, Prose du TI'al1ssiberi en etdela petiteJ eanne de France, 19
1
3)
Mndigliani arrived in France in the cold wi nter months of 1906. As in
V"nice, he all owed himself a few days o fluxur y in a hotel centrall y situated
III tile place de la Madeleine, taking the cit y in at a ge ntle pace like an y
l,() urgeois traveller. It was too early to consider seriously pl ans to sur vive as
. 111 artis t . Unli ke many of the artists who arrived in Paris earl y in the
IIVcntieth century, he h ad twO great advantages: he spoke French fluently,
.llId he could depend on a regul ar income from home, even ifit was mini mal;
Ihi s gave him a comforting sense of self-sufficiency and confidence.
M,)ci igliani had come to Paris to further hi s career as an artist, not as a student
"1' ;1 refugee, and hi s sense of propriety forbade him all his life to cons ider any
III her kind of work as an aid to fll1ancial survi va l, even when he enco untered
Il. d povert y.
The hotel where he was staying was ideally loca ted wi thin walki ng
di stance o f the new artisti c centre round t he rue Lafit te. Since the earl y 1890s, 9
llil' <Hea had become an important information centre for artists and publi c
.dike, and a dozen or so gall eries had opened there; run on a low budget, their
,Il:lracter reflected the ofte n eccentric personalities o f their owners.
No. I , rue Lafitte was the headq uarters o f the Revue Blal1che, that long-
Sl:l llding champion o f progress ive art; at no. 6, Cezanne's dealer Ambroise
Vo l lard had his gall ery where he showed Vincent van Gogh, Paul Ga uguin
.ll ld the Nabi s; no. 8 was the premises of that renowned family of art dealers,
Ihl' Bernheim-Jeune; at no. J6 were the Impressionist speciali sts, Durand-
I ~ L l l l ; next door, Clovis Sagot, one of the fIrSt to sell Picasso's work, had his
sh ow room. Further up the road , an adventurous young woman, Berthe
Weill, had recen tl y opened a gallery where she exhibited the avant- garde,
.11l10ng them Picasso; in 1917, she was to give Modi gli ani his onl y one-man
show (forcibl y closed on account of the nudes exhibited in the w indow).
3 J
Nl' :Ircr Mo ntmartre, Pere So ulie, a mattress-maker by profession, stacked
pailllings by the then unknown arti sts. He soon acquired a reputation, so
w ll cctOl's, dealers and painters alike visited hi m.
Ili casso, who had been in Pa ris since 1904, is said to have urged Modi gliani
to Mo ntmartre, saying it was the pl ace where seri o us arti sts li ved and
worked. It is int eresting to see how much the two arti sts had in co mmo n,
haili ng as they both did from great Mediterranean seaports, coming to Paris
in search o f fulfilment. The cit y, like a magnet, attracted yo ung arti sts o f
th eir generation, who all seemed to arri ve with a read y-made backg ro und o f
Symboli sm and Art Nouvea u, Pari s beca me a recurring theme in painting
and poetry before 191 4, and the Eiflel Tower as a pi ctorial moti f emerged in
works as difl:e rent as those of Marc Chaga ll and Robert Del aunay, Guillaume
Apollinaire and Bl aise Cendrars lingered o n the nostalgic power o f Paris as
well as the intense loneliness engende red by the anonymit y of big ci ti es.
Je sf.li stristej esuis Irisll'
j'irai (Lapill agile' tHeressof.l venir de tnajeunesseperdue
EtvoirI' des petitsverres
Puisie rcntrerai seul
PaiL:
Villedefa Tour unique du grandGibeletde faRoue
(I am sad 1 am sad/I shall go to the Lapin Agile to reminisce abo ut my lost
youth/ Have a few drinks/Then I shall go ho me, alone/ Pari s/Cit y of the
unique T owe r o f the great Ga llows, o f the Wheel)
(Cendrars, Prose du Transsiberienetde fapetileJeannedeFrance.)
10
The Lapin Agile was the renowned cabaret in Montmartre whi ch had, since
the [890S, virtually become the sy mbol o f the Butte to whi ch Modigli ani
went after his fi rst few weeks o f explo ration in Pari s.
Hi s primary reason for so doing was a mi xture of yea rnin g and nostalgia
fo r artists he then revered. Hi s Futuri st compatri o t, Severini, who had
arri ved in the sa me yea r as Modi gli ani, sai d that arti sts came to Paris to see the
Impressio ni sts. But fo r Modi gliani, the latter-day Symboli sts and To ul o use-
La utrec were just as impo rtant - and they too had cong rega ted in and around
Mo ntmartre. Furthermo re, li ving there was a way of ad ve rti sing oneself as
an artist, a way o f gaini ng an identit y w itho ut necessa ril y having to prove it.
Mont martre was the hea rt o f arti sti c Pa ris, just as Chelsea once was in
Lo ndo n and SoHo is now in New Yo rk. When th e centre shifted to
Montparnasse in abo ut 1909, Modi gliani moved too,
It seems so completely paradoxical that in the tumbledown se tting of the
narrmv stree ts of the Butte, so old-fashioned, so weighed down with
32
III U tril l o, LeLapin Agile, 1909
11 ,lt lition there rose a new spirit, at o nce so cl earsi ghted, so daring, so pure,
I II II ill spired a whol e generati on ofartists and writers ... co uld one imagine a
1111 " , . inappropriate place to la y down the fo undatio ns o f Cubism than the
I "' ,ll'l' l of the Lapin Agil e, dust y and ro mantic, echoing the st rains of popular
" ' IF' of the eight een-thirties, sung by Frede, with his fl o ri d bea rd wea ring
I,,, 1',1 (';I t fur hat? . .. there li ved Picasso, Derain, Van Dongen, D ufy, Braque,
r-. l ll, li glialli , And re Sa lmon, Pi erre Mac O rlan , Dorgeles, Raynal and
1\ 1"" litl:li re was a f<equent visito r. .. The facts stand: fo r ten yea rs, those
\I 1111 ((l tltribut ed most to the modern spirit li ved in Montmartre.
II,,, m manci c account of Mo ntmartre was written in 1925 by Andre
\V,I,, ")d who was a writer well acqua inted with the fauna of the Butte; he
1,\, d ill the Batea u-Lavoir, the famo us gro up o f studios in a di sused lawldry
! II 1111_' J' l ll' Ra vignan, whi ch was to beco me synonymous with much of the
I '11' f; Il' \sive art befo re the First World War in Paris.
, .tlL" bistrot s and restaurants were t he meeting- pl aces where hea ted 10
, II '" o ften occur red, and the protagonists of the contradictory schools
" I III, )lI ght often had to be for cibl y separated. ' Tell me where you eat and I'll
33

tt'11 you how you paint' was a popular saying. Restaurant owners frequently
:lrccptcd paintings in lieu of payment, which accounts for their premises
bccoming show-cases for the avan t-garde.
Modigliani had a letter of introduction from his fr iend Manuel Ortiz de
Z;\ r;ltc to the artist Granowski who remembers him as a shy, well-dressed
boy who did not smoke and drank wine only in moderation. Oddly,
Modigliani told the older man that he wanted to be a sculptor, though five
years were to pass before he started on his earliest known sculptures.
His first studio in Montmartre has been described by the author and poet,
Andre Salmon, as being fu ll y eq uipped with a piano covered with plush
draperies and a plaster cast of Beethoven's death-mask. Such luxury is
unlikely and Modigliani could not really have afforded it anyway. This is
probably a glorified approxima tion ofhis living conditions at the time, but it
does indicate a defmite taste for comfort. Salmon saw the bourgeois studio as
a symbol of ModigJiani's conventional approach to his career at the time.
Salmon lived at the Bateau-Lavoir until his move to Montparnasse ill 1909,
and kne'vv most ar tists in Montmartre, appointing himselfas their champion.
He was endowed with a powerful romantic imagination which he exercised
to the full in his La Vie passionnee de lVlodigliani, written in the mid 1920S, in
\ "'-.....,
=-0;:'" \ )j" '\
\ 'J .\
'"'- \ . )
, ----.:"'-- '\ /.
,
\
11 Seal ed Figure, [907/08
--.. -- - --.' - .- .....
'- -
-- - ---- - "--.. .

. If IJ V Of'" t , - ....,.----"'
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.,
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J 2 Acrobat, 1909
which the artist is seen as a timid mediocre painter , led simultaneously to
):.vllius and ruin by drugs and drink, and finally martyrized by both. This
r,lthcr extraordinary novelette set the tone for most of the subsequent
li lLTature on ModigJiani and has been the source for a number of fanciful
Ic' llliniscences and fdms.
Modigliani established his subject-matter early on: with the exception ofa
liandful of landscapes, nudes and portraits were all he ever painted.
1;( >llowing the trend he had set in Italy, he disdained naturalism completely-
whi ch was even more out of date in Paris than it had been in Livorno, as
wn c, by Bateau-Lavoir standards, his inclinations towards Art Nouveau.
III his joyless depictions ofwomen, Modigliani attempts to go beyond the 14- 18
si Illplc recording of their features to create symboli c evocations of internal
I ra gedy. Later, he was to evolve an expressive language of line and form in
35
) 3 Pabl o Pi casso, Life (La Vie) , 1903
which no formal props were needed. His research into total expression
11 through such concentrated means begins very ea rly in his drawings.
These have much more in common with his later paintings than with
those he was working on at the time. Drawings have the fr eedom of first
drafts of poems; they are more open to graphological analysis because of
their immediacy, whil e thei r intimacy gives us an insight into the artist's
mind. Some refl ect Modigliani ' s dail y life: thumb sketches done in cafes, or
12 of acrobats at the Medrano circus where, Fernande Olivier teUs us, Pi casso
often went withJuan Gris, Andre Derain, Suzanne Valadon and Modigliani.
And yet, unlike Pi casso, the fabric of everyday life never directl y entered
Modi gliani' s paintings; he never copied any European works of art either
(unlike most artists at any period in hist ory). The geometric simplifi cation of
his drawing style at thi s time not only heralds later paintings, but indi cates
Modigliani' s ea rl y interest in Cezanne and African art, which was to develop
in both his painting and his sculpture.
A number ofea rl y paintings are predominantl y blue; Pi casso 's blue period
13 immediatel y springs to mind as a source, yet Pi casso's subj ect-matter is
deci dedly more orientated towards making statements about deprived
categories of society. Modigliani is not interested in making specifIC social
36
1.1 Nude, 1908
COJllIlIl'llts in his work - which does not necessarily entail that he was totally
without ;) social conscience, as we shall see later- but aims at a more universal
14 qllality: in each nude painting, in each portrait, be it of a prostitute or an
lIpptT-middle-class doctor, he tries to say something about the human
predicament ill general. This is still a harking back to Symbolist attitudes to
lhl' function of art.
15 An ea rly blue portrait of 1905 shows a woman with hair piled high in the
fashion of the day. She wears a light blue dress and the background is in
shades of cobalt; this is echoed in the pink and blue modelling of her face.
Thc most striking feature is her obsessive blue stare. There are echoes of
Toulouse-Lautrec and Steinlen, but Modigliani expresses the t enseness of his
rapport with the model ill a very personal manner. It is frequently in the
76, 80 dcpiction of the eyes of the sitters that we uncover the nature of his
relationship with them.
Maintenal11 tu marches dans Paris tout seul parmi lafoule
Des troupeaux d' aUlo!Jus mugissanls pres de toi roulel1t
L' angoisse de I' amour Ie serre Ie gosier
COlrll11e si Iu rle devaisjamais plus fire ailtle.
(Now you walk across Paris alone in the crowd/Herds of bellowing buses go
past you/The anxiety of love tightens your throat/As if you were dcstined
ne ve r to be loved again)
(Apollinaire, 'Zone', published in Alcoo!.,.)
If tension and anxiety recur like motifs in all his ea rly paintings, they do not
correspond only to a stylistic choice but to exist ing featur es in his life which
now, in Montmartre, had become raw material for a classic tale of fa vie de
Boheme. Rapidly finding himself without money, he moved through a series
of small hotels until he was thrown out, or crept out secretly, unable to pay
for his lodging and leaving his paintings behind - this is probably why so
little work is left from these years. He had no real studio ofhis own for much
the same reason; the nearest he got to one was a shed at 7, place Jean-Baptiste
Clement, near the Batea u-Lavoir.
Modigliani's position as an artist, a foreigner and a Jew in Paris was a
precarious one. Since the Dreyfus affair, which had only just come to a
belated conclusion inJuly 1906 with the rehabilitation of Alfred Dreyfus into
the French army, anti-Scmitism was never very far from the surface. This
was something Modigli ani had never encountered before, so he reacted
violently to any provocation. One day, he challenged a whole group of
officers seated at a cafe table "vho had been making anti-Semitic remarks. His
tone was so fierce that they instantly stopped. It was in Paris that he
3
8
I /lilst oj a Woman, 1908
,1" vL' loped an enlarged sense ofJewish identity and his closest friends wcre to
11, mainly Jewi sh: Soutine, Mo'ise Kisling, Jacques Lipchitz, Max Jacob.
As we have already seen in Venice, his general reaction to problems was
<lil t' of escape: reversals of fortune and loneliness were easier to handle with
,II!.' help of drugs, and now drink: es pecially absinthe, a kind ofconcentrated
l'l'I'llod, o utlawed for its side-effects in 1916. Modigliani rapidly became
.Illjuainted with the Baron Pigea rd, the Parisian counte rpart of the Venetian
39
16 N ude, 1908
Baron, and his acolytes who kept him - and most of the artists and poets at
the time - weli supplied wi th hashish an d coca ine. Severini says that
Modigliani was never seen wi tho ut his little box ofhashi sh pills. Inexpensi ve
as drugs migh t have been at the time, a swiftl y increasing consumption was
bound to dent his income considerabl y, as was his newly acquired taste for
absinthe, that venomous nectar of the nineties, whi ch Modigliani
undoubtedl y tasted initially fo r its romantic associations with late
nineteenth-century decadence.
One ofthe results of poverty was that he pa inted on both sides ofa canvas,
and even the paint itselfis lai d on sparingly. On one side ofa 1908 canvas, he
16 depicts a nude with a long neck (this feature, much exaggerated, was to
4
0
I ' Mnlld Abrnllies ('),
( II ' verse of ilL (6)
I,, " "me a characteristi c of his later portraits) , slo ping sho ulders and an
,III ilude of total dejection. On the reverse is a portrait , probabl y of the same 17
\\ II IllJll , bu t here she is even mo re emaciated and haggard.
Modigliani's feel ing o f insecurit y was now reinforced in that his work
\'" ihly did no t live up to avant-garde standards; it was out o f date, tediousl y
//11 ;II' siecle and depress ive. Its merits were to be recognized only in later yea rs
Wlll'll its intrinsi c quality was being primar il y considered as opposed to
,1" J.!; rccs of modernity. In his cape and large hat, he cu t a curiously obsolete
Il glIl'C, beside Picasso and the mecanos, clad in workmen's outfItS, arrogant
\\, 11/1 the knowledge that they were creati ng a compl etely new art founded
"" the tradit ions of cultures hithertho spurned. Modigliani's feeling of
41
ill:l(kqllJcy- which he would never openly admit - caused him to shun their
col1lp:lny completely. One result was that he never befriended the urbane
ApolllllJIlT, and this may explain the fact that his influential art reviews do
110 IIlOIT than mention Modigliani in passing.
So Modigliani chose to react to his largely self-imposed alienation and
extreme timidit y by behaving in an aggressive theatrical manner. He chose
the company of models, alcoholics and the vagabonds of Montmartre. It is at
tll .is time that he probably had an affair with a girl known as ' La Quique' of
whom nothing much is known except that she ma y have been of Spanish
origin, hence her nickname derived from fa chica (Spanish for the girl).
Eyewitnesses recall them both dancing naked in front of 7, place Jean-
Baptiste Clement, playing at bull and bull-fIghter, hi gh on cocaine.
Utrillo became a real friend, Modigli ani refusing to see him, like everyone
else on the Butte, as the village idiot. They we re forever being thrown out of
bars, dead drunk, Modigliani wildly declaiming stanzas of Dante, 'Litnllo',
as the locals called him, losing his clothes on the way; both were often forced
to spend the night in the street.
In a letter to Oscar, he had written' Your duty is to save your dream.' His
drea m has now turned into a search for the mysterious qualities inherent in
each person he paints. The spirit of his pictures, if not their subject-matter,
was still Symbolist. And from hi s work, it is evident that he had a feeling of
cultural sympathy with those artists of the late nineteenth century who were
not interested in painting obj ecti ve or atmospheric reality: the Post-
Impressionists, Symbolists, Rose- et-C roi x and the Nabis, whose work he
saw in Paris. Modigliani more than ever identified with the predicament of
the artistes maudits suffering for their self-expression in a society that rej ected
them. He may ha ve felt predes tined to this role with his new Parisian
nickname 'Modi' (maudi!, damned).
It is hard to put a label of origin on each of his paintings because the
influences are so well diges ted. An overall feeling ofsolidarity emerges from
the paintings. W e feel the young Modigliani .is searching for a language,
learning to look at others, extracting all he can: the process is slow and
patient, akin to an alchemical one, distilling metals and fwally extracting the
gold of his originality.
18 In 1908, he painted a study of a nude which fully brings out the 1l100'd of
introspection and anguished uncertainty so typical of this period. This
painting is parti cularly interesting because it is his fmt explicit sexual
statement about women; the straining, taut figure is sexually expressive and
has nothing to do with the passi ve, conventional nudes of traditional
painting. The nude here is shown responding to Modigliani's desire and
becoming identified with it. It is precisely this sentiment that Modigliani was
42
I S St lldy oIa N ude, 1908
r
)
1\
19 Pablo Picasso, Les Demoiselles d' A II ig 1'lO11 , 1907
to paintin hisgreatseriesofnudesof1916and 1917. Atthisstage, thetense,
nervousand fragile qualityof all his early nudes co uld well reveal his own
instabilityin hisyouthfulrelationships.Thewomenpaintedinhisearlyyears
are not beautiful: they have an aggressive kind ofugliness revealing a
love-hate relationship with women (which was to remain all his life) and a
desiretoshowa certain kindofanimalexpressiveness,qualities far from the
conventions oflate nineteenth-century academism and even Impressionist
paintings.
Modiglianiwas notalonein this: in theearly twentiethcentury, therewas
a cultof whatbas been called 'negative beauty'.
Nudes came into being, whose deformation caused littlesurprise- we had
been preparedearlier for it by Picasso himself, by Matisse, Derain, Braque,
Van Dongen,andevenearlierbyCezanneand Gaugin. Itwastheuglinessof
the faces that froze with horror the half-converted.
Deprivedofthe Smilewecould only recognize the Grimace.
For toolong, perhaps,thesmileofthe Gioconda was theSun of Art.
\",Ir': Salmon, Modigliani's future biographer, had written this in his
"' "LllHicAnecdotal History ofClibism, published in 1912withCubism in full
," Illg (reprinted in Edward Fry, Cubism). It is worth comparing
1\ llidi gliani'searly nudeswith Picasso's Demoiselles d' Avignon of1907- and 19
Ii,, 'worksleadingto it- or Matisse's Bille Nude of th esameyear, tosee how 20
,j WI" all deform the female form to bring out its sculptural, Expressionist
I"" ' lItial.
The picture known as The j ewess, painted in 1908, was very important 22
I" Modigliani: he painted it into the background ofhis three portraits of
I'."d Alexandre. Here is Modigliani ' s most complete statement on blue
""sna bilism. Thepaintisthick insomeareas (nose andlips) andsomewhat
II"" un much of thebackground. Anervousqualityemergesfrom thesitter
h, I "" If, her dull stare and thejaggedangles ofhersharp face with its novel
I""kcn lighting. This is no longer ajugendstillinear pattern, but a fIgure
",'(' lItially modelledin lightandshadelikeastatue. Modiglianiheredisplays
i , Ii interest in sculptural effects (all the more fascinating as the result is a
I,. ,illting), and this is linked to his discoveryofCezanneand to his growing
,I I unionto sculpture itself.
I'aul Cezanne had died in 1906, and the Salon d'Automne organized a
11 ' 1'ospective exhibition in 1907, thereby consecrating the importance
;(1 IknriMatisse, Blu e Nude , 19 07
44
21 Paul Cezanne, YOU/lg Man il1 a Red
Waistcoat, 1893-95
progressive artists had bestowed on him for years. In the latter part of the
year, Bernheim-Jeune showed sixty-seven Cezanne watercolours in an
exhibition. 'Cezanne's art is the arsenal from which modern painting drew
weapons for the primary struggle to drive naturalism, false literature and
pseudo-classicism from the field.' Cezanne's importance was acknowledged
by perceptive critics right from the start, and Roger Allard (19
12
, in Fry, Cu-
ViSIII) is particularly vehement on this point. The weapons modern artists
drew from Cezanne were extremely varied. His handling of paint and colour
and the resulting deformations brought about a wide range of pictorial
concepts.
In Montmartre and in the Bateau-Lavoir, Modigliani was surrounded by
artists ferociously discussing the new theories. It is said that he frequently got
into fierce arguments about Cubism, which he detested, like all theories, and
turned to blows when he was short of arguments and full of drink. Yet his
interest and respect for Cezanne remains indubitable. As early as 1906,
Modigliani apparently had made a small watercolour copy of Cezanne's
21 Young j\l[an in a Red Waistcoat and also carried about his person a small
4
6
" J'lie jewess, 1908
23 Palll Alexandre, 1909
24 Portrait of Paul Alexat1dre 011 a Brollll1
Background, 1909
reproduction of it. This is a real pointer as to Cezanne's importance, as
Modigliani does not appear to have copied the work of any other artist.
Furthermore, each time Cezanne's name was mentioned, he would take the
tattered reproduction out of his inside pocket, raise it like a holy image and
kiss it. It was very much in keeping with his character for Modigliani to get
so emotional about the people he revered, dead or alive. He would
apparently burst into tears when he received a letter from his mother, and the
tears flowed on as he read extracts to his friends in cafes; no other woman
would make him weep openly. Cezanne's influence on Modigliani was
generally an undercurrent one, unlike the more consistent and direct effect
23 he had on Picasso's work; sometimes it emerges full y, other times it is hea vily
/8,22 camouflaged or almost w1apparent.
22 In I9
0
9, TheJewess was painted into the backgrowld ofthe portraits ofhis
friend and first serious collector, Alexandre. He had met the young doctor
two years previously, and it was he who encouraged Modigliani to show the
painting at the Salon des Independants in March 1908. Alexandre introduced
him to an artists' commune that he had started with his brother in the rue du
Delta. When he met the artists who congregated there, Modigliani
presented them with a painting each; these outbursts of generosity 'vvere to
become typical, much to the despair of his dealer Leopold Zborowski. At the
rue du Delta, Modigliani probably thought he had landed in an ideal artistic
brotherhood, but his relationship with the other artists there degenerated
4
8
1.ll'idly; in fact his stay ended when one night, very drwlk and in a fit of
, I< .iel1ce, he destroyed all the works he could lay his hands on.
Ikfore this happened, he had painted the portraits of Alexandre; they are 24-26
III the greatest tradition of portrait painting. The fIrSt, painted in I909, is a
', IIIdy for the next which has a brown background: here Alexandre stands
,\ II h his hand buried in his pocket; in the third, painted with a green
11"ckground, he spreads his fUlgers on his side, a proud hieratic stance in the
I'j t ian-V elazq uez grand manner. In these pictures, Alexandre moves
I'I! Igressively further into the front of the picture plane, dominating it with
ill S emphatic presence, just as Modigliani is getting increasingly self-
1(111 fident in this particular pictorial situation. He painted him again in 191 I
I,) 1912. The fact that this portrait is the only one he painted during those
)' \'ars when he concentrated on sculpture demonstrates the great value he
49
25 Portrait oj Paul Alexandre on a
Green Background, 190 9
26 Paul Alexandre, 19 1 3
1,.,111 Alexandre, 1909
Iln l,) \Vcd on this fri endship. Modigliani paint ed hi s fifth and last portrait of
I,, , Iriend in I9I3, and here the colour is much looser and reminiscent of 26
1 1/, 111I1e.
l'IIc portraits of the Alexandre family and their friends share a number of
11.11 :Ictcristics: the si tters are viewed a t three-quarter length or head and
II, .. dders. The effect of light and shade and the suggestion of depth come
11"lll the Cezanne-like hatching in the build-up ofthc colour, and there is
I"" .. lily one dominating hue and a few subsidiary ones. We have already seen
11 ,, \ procedure in The J ewess and the Alexandre portraits. Modighani also
I ',lIlIted Jean Alexandre, who looks much more easy-going than his brother, 27
II I I Ids Jnd browns, but the pose is quite difrerent, as he leans on his hand, and
I , lTt:1in indol ence is suggested.
1\ lexandre obtained for him his first commission, the portrait of a 28
I'.1 I "ness. An accom plished horsewoman, she chose to be depicted in suitable
,III ire, and above all in the red riding-jacket she was inordinately proud of.
M,)(ligliani was displeased at having to paint it that colour and at the last
11I,)lllellt changed it to yellow. harmonizing it with the greenish-blue
11 ,tc'k!:iround. Predictably, the Baroness refused the painting. and Alexandre
5I
28 L'Amazol1e, 1909
bought it instead. Modi gli ani certainly brings out her vanity by her proud
stance, and at the same time there is a slight el ement of caricature in her
highl y lit features: in her mean, pursed lips and in the arched eyebrows in her
small angular face. Modigliani 's later portraits show thi s sa me eye for
character and even cari ca ture - it is usually di screet and accomplished with
an astonishing economy of means.
In the su mmer of 1909, exhaus ted by Pari sian life and unwell , Modigliani
spent so me months with his family in Livorno. He was restl ess and irritabl e,
even though hi s mother did her best to pl ease him - and thereby exasperated
him even more; she spoiled him like a child and had him recl othed from head
to foot. He probably had the greatest difficulty in relating to the continuity
and routine of family life.
He spent some time with hi s aunt Laure writing articl es on philosophy,
something he enjoyed. He felt at ease in the highl y cultured atmosphere at
29 The Beggar of LillanlO,
1909
l'OIl1C, but soon became bored with it. By now he was totally addi cted to the
, 11:d lcnges and constant variety of cosmopolitan Paris, and Livorno must
k,vc seemed a stuffy, even claustrophobic backwater in comparison.
Whil e on holiday, he painted the pi cture that was to be known as The
of Li vomo. Hi s daughter says that it was based on a seventeenth- 29
' l' lltury Neapolitan pi cture the family had recentl y inherited. But the style is
vny cl ose to Cezanne, and for once gives the impression of having been
1' :1 illtcd out of doors, in thc warm Italian sunshine. The colours, mainly in
shades of cobalt , float so lightl y as to give the feeling of
\\' .1 tL'l'colour - especiall y in the area round the eyes: in fact, by his brushwork,
odi gl ian i is hinting that the beggar may be blind.
Un his return to Paris, Modigli ani crossed the Seine and took up residence
ill Montparnasse. His sense oftiming was perfect. Montmartre had ceased to
il l' the central artists' quarter in Paris.
53
52
30 St"dy for The Celli.'f, )909
CHAPTER THREE
Sc ul pture 1909-14
I I II Ili s return from It aly in the summer of1909, Modigliani asked Alexandre
I. , ilil roduce him to the sculptor Brancusi, who lived on the o ther si de of the
' " '11 C" in Montparnasse. This was an important aspect of a carefull y thought-
,, " I decision linked to the direct ion hi s work was taking. There are few such
.i t , " inns in hi s life, bur they all concern his career. When it came to his
I"t lill ing and sculpture, an idea would mature slowly before coming to
J. tlirion, and hi s drawings, es pecially those linked to his scul pture, show that
h, rould bui ld up a project over a period of years. This is in direct
" 'IIITadiction with the rest of his life where he was impulsive and extreme in
III " likes and di sli kes .
( )11 his arrival in Paris three years before, he had introduced himself as a
., Idptor, which certai nl y indi cates a deep-seated ambition. Hi s desire to
II ,til7c this aim must be read in all activiti es preceding his full-time
IlI v"lvement in sculpture, even in his trip to It aly. For his physical health
11)( 1 cmotional reassurance, he had sought his family and especiall y his
" " Hiler; for his spiritual needs, a journey to Italy, to his artistic roots and
IW.I Y from Paris, where he had difficulty in isolating himself, was
1, lr;tmount.
While painting The Beggar oj Livurno in 1909, a few things must have 29
1'1, ()l11e clear. His mentor had been for some time Cezanne, and Modigliani
1IIIIst have realized that he was m ovi ng, at thi s rate, towards a total
, Ii ' intcgration of the image that would ult imately lead to problems w ith the
' 1,.ll ial reorganizati on of the fragments. This is a structural problem that
l\i\ l)ciigliani would not solve through a personal variati on of Cubism.
lie began by initially working it o ut on canvas, and in a number of
IlIlrtraits of 1909 and 191 0 the forms are self-cont ained, almost statuesque.
I I i, pictorial style at that time presents more variety than at any other time in
I", ureer: concurrentl y with his sculptural paintings, he produced Th e
( "'IIi,! in 19
0
9, which he exhibited at the Salon des Independants in 1910 and 30
\v hich was acclaimed by Alexandre as ;better than Cezanne'. The synthesis of
I. ,rms wi thin the confIDes of the image and the fluidity of the paintwork
,ntainly owe a lot to Cezanne. Modigli ani may have felt that he might lose
hlillsclfin a maze of stylistic possibilities and that sculpture would for ce him
I II rcthink his formal attitudes to art. He chose carving - as opposed to
55
nloddlillg and asscmblage - as this was the most rigorous test; it demanded
the discipline and gave no possibilit y for self-indul gence, especiall y
ill the severe way Modigliani was to carve.
I It- II OW had to face a whol e new set of problems: despite hi s ambitions, he
W ; I S not actll all y traincd as a sculptor; and from the start - therein li cs th e
('lIltr;)st with hi s painting - hc rea li zed that it was not in European sculpture
o lthe past that he co uld find a precedent for what he was tr yi ng to achieve;
lillt even in the immcdi ate past, for Cezannc's great contemporary Auguste
could not help the young Modigliani fllld himself He needed
someone ofhi s OWn epoch (in which he must have fe lt somewhat marooned)
to g uide him to cultures co mpl etel y alien to his own and to cont empora ry
arti sti c concepts.
Constantin Brancusi seemed idea!. He was already fai rl y well known and
had shown at the Sa lon d' Automne and at the ava nt-ga rde Abbaye de
Cretei!. His sculptures at that time showed a simplifi cat ion of features, a
J 1 purification of form to which Modi gl iani could relate.
Photographs indi cate that Brancusi looked older than he actually was (he
WrlS thirty-three, th at is eight yea rs older than Modigliani). He scems al ways
to have clung to hi s image of the g ruff but serene peasant patr iarch, although
in fact he was extremely sophist ica ted. Thi s must have seemed reass uring to
Modigliani who, at that time, still had a chil dlike need to look up to
someone, to have heroes or to relate to a self-confident fa ther figur e, despite
(or beca use of) his fe male-dominated chil dhood backgro und. It is signifi cant
that he deliberately arranged to be introduced to him, when he had, ifhe had
wanted it, easy dir ect access to arti sts.
Brancusi, born in 1876 in the Transylvan ian Alps, had arrived in Paris in
19
0
4, after travelling for a year mostly on foot all the way from his nat ive
Romania. Hi s work had earned the prai se of Rodin, but he had refused to
become hi s assista nt , decl aring with singular purposefulness that 'no thing
grows in the shadow of a great tr ee' .
In fact, Rodin's massive im pact seems to have stunted the development of
carving fo r French sculptors: in the earl y years of the cent ur y, it seemed
impossi ble for them to find th e necessary rigour and self-restraint in hi s
lux uri ant megalomaniac entourage. Br ancusi was one of the band of East
European carvers who came fro m a completely different cultural
background, where Western influence had been adapted to meet loca l
demands. Lipchit z, Brancusi, Alexander Archipenko, J acob Epstein, Chana
Orloff and Ossip Zadkine became Parisians in that they needed the ambiance
ofthe city to stimulate (not necessaril y inspire) them. They ac ted as a catalyst
on the sculpture scenc, and th eir presence may well have encouraged the
efforts of aspiring carvers.
56
I j I ',, "s[an[in Brancusi , Head,

,\Ilcusi himself came from a peasant famil y, and altho ugh he left home
,I I Ihe age ofeleven, he retained a profo und attachment to hi s native folklo re,
I 1I 111lra] traditions and handi crafts, whi ch were to form t he basis of his work
I ll d !lutlook thro ug hout hi s life. During hi s ea rl y ca reer in Buchares t,
11"\\" 'ver, he produced academic work that earned him praise and an
,, "ll' pcndent reputation in Romania. In Paris, he strove to maintain a
",, ',l sure of autonomy from everyday urban life, in that he wo re clogs and a
"JIlek and carved all his own furniture, re-creating a somewhat glorified
I'l l , io ll of a Transylva ni an peasa nt hut; he built himself a stone oven and an
1,1i press : his hospitalit y and the hi gh qualit y of hi s cooking were famous all
I,\'(' r Paris. Apart from that, he led a fa irl y Rive Droite social life in that he
1\ " Il.t around wit h Jean Coctea u, Raymond Radiguet, Apollinaire, and was
, I II ,)(.imirer of the Ballets Russes. He also befriended the na'ive painter Henri
' I " I)ollanier' Ro usseau, with whom he would regul arly pl ay the violin.
IIrancusi was characteri zed by an obstinate independence and persisten t
will to control all the element s in hi s own environmen t, which is why he so
, ,m'fully parall eled his unique life-style in his work; they fed on each o ther
, (l1l (illuQusly, and a di sturbance in one was bound to hinder (he other. The
57
so pili .,ti ca ted simplici ty of Brancusi' s outl ook, half-vva y between Eas tern
and West ern tra diti ons, has been un derstood only in our own time, with the
Ill) W Ll shionablc return t o ethnic values. Before he died in 1952, Brancusi had
ll' '111 ('' Lcd that he be buried di rectl y in the earth, naked, but the offici als,
('lllharr asscd, would not allow it as they co nsidered it in bad taste.
iVJodigli ani was attract ed to Brancusi's strength and sense of purpose, and
n'I.lCctcd his w ork, so he felt he could learn much from him. Brancusi, in
tLll'Il. probably enjo yed the idea of teaching such an enthusiastic student , and
Modigli ani soon j o ined him in the cite Falgui ere, late in 1909.
i') O n the reverse of the study for Th e Cellist, there is another w hich is the
J2 beginning of a portrait of Brancusi. He has a wide, bony face and a thick
bl ack bea rd; he looks down on hi s mountaino us chest, hi s eyes looking
inwa rds, sombre, concentrated. We do nOt know why it remai ned
un fmished, but it is evident fr o m his morose air that Brancusi did not like to
ha ve himself portrayed.
Their relati onship must have been uneasy from the start , as they obvio usl y
had nothing in common - except for ni g htl y excursiollS to La Ro tonde.
Branc usi's real need for a harmonio us, balanced life meant that co-existence
with such a demanding, self-centred person as Mo di gli ani was impossibl e fo r
any length of time.
For a cou pIe o f years or so, Modi gli ani was based in a fir st-floor studio (an
impractical location for a sculptor) in the cite Fal guicre, situated at 54, rue
du Montparnasse, next door to Brancusi 's. It was a group o f art ists' studi os
not unlike the Bateau-Lavoir in Montmartre, or La Ruche, south of
Montparnasse. These buildi ngs generall y provided a space and minimal
li ghting (often ker osene or cand les sold at a profit by the concierge).
Although the rent was nominal, Modigli ani as a rule could not pay it -
nor co uld most of the Slavs at La Ruche, who were experiencing abysmal
poverty at the time; few were as fortunate as Modigli ani in receiving an
allowance, small as it was, fr o m hi s famil y. These studi os contributed
substantially to the emergence o f the Ecole de Paris and it s militant
subsection. It is obvi o us that Mo digli ani could never have settl ed from his
own fr ee will in the Bateau-Lavoir where 'La Bande aPi casso ' and Cubism
rul ed supreme. He infmitely preferred La Ruche, in the fift eenth
arrondissement , by the abattoirs, w hich his fri end Soutine used to haunt.
Highl y indi vidual Eastern European artists lived there, mainl y Ashke nazi
J ews who spoke Yiddi sh, had experienced the ghetto and known
persecu tions and pogro ms; for Souti ne and Kremcgne, who had lived
through to tal mi sery and near starvation in Russia, the povert y at La Ruche
felt like affluence in compari son. Chagall , who had lived.there since I9I Owas
among the most eccentric inhabitants of La Ru che, with an extremely pale
/1. ,1111 11;; (reverse of ill. 30) ,
IlIilq
" " '1 ,k xi on and made-up eyes; he would paint dr ea ms of Vitebsk and his
II I I l l ~ ( Della, at ni ght , st ark naked so as to preserve hi s one and only suit.
I \'\' 11 111 0re than when he was in Montmartre, Modi gli ani did not reall y
' l ' lv i'l one pl ace; he simult aneously li ved in all the cites and roamed from
"I I, h:lllk of th e Seine t o the other. The cafes were as much home as
III \whcre else, especiall y La Rotonde, after it opened in 19I 1. Libion, the
11\\ li n, gave strict orders never to pressurize the cust omers to renew thei r
,i, "I b , which meant that you could - and Modi gli ani , like many others, did
" I ill CTe for the whole day in fr o nt of a single cafe-creme. Cafe soci et y was to
'1 11I1l' illt O its own when Montparnasse took over from Montmartre as the
1111\ 1 ic headquart ers o f Pari s, especiall y in the peri od of transiti on from a
." . ,1 rllral suburb to an active part o f th e met ropoli s.
hi illl J tes vary, but between twent y and twent y-fi ve sculptures sur vive
III " 11 the years 1909 to I914. Modigliani is said to have produced some
58 59
before,butthcyhavedisappeared.Theyprobablydated from about 1907 or
I !)uX ;1I1d were made ofwood which had been removed from the Metro
thenbei ng built: thesculptureswereapparently all of
the,'xactdimensionsof thesleepersintheMetro. BeforehemetBrancLlsi,he
pn')h:lbl y did not know any stone-ca rving techniques, and thi s must have
bccll OIlCof themainreasonswhyhewenttohim.Brancusi' shighl ysensitivc
halldlingofsurfaceimpressedhim,andthisis borneoutbyModigliani 'sown
h<lI1dling oftexture.
From nowon, Modigliani'smaterial was mainly limestone. Hequarried
the stone from the many buildingsites in Montparnasse,usuall y at thedead
of night when workmen had refused to give him any during the da y.
Zadkine menti onspolychromestatues,butnone havesurvived. Theheight
33-36 oftheheadsva ries from9 in. toabout29in ., averagi ng25 in. Manyha ve been
lostordestroyed;alargenumberofsuchlosses occurredduringModigli ani's
lifetime. The chronology is cxceedingly hard to establi sh, as Modigliani's
evolution can be read in several directions. The dating followed here is
Lanthemann's.Furthermore, Modigli ani'sdrawingssometimesantedatehis
sculptures by years: hi searliestdrawings for the standingcaryatid date back
to 1910,whereas thesurvivingstatueit self wascarvedin 1912. Thedra wings
41-45, are magnifIcentin themsel ves, done in lea d orblue pencil ,or charcoal with
49 occasional inkwashes. They arc oftenonratherlargesheetsofpaper, oneof
thestandardsizesbeing17x l atin.andtheyarcalwaysdrawninasurehand,
withnocorrectionorerasing.Theimportanceofsculptureatthispoi nrinhis
career can be measured by the number ofpainrings he produced in those
yea rs: Ceroni says there are 2 for 191 0 , 4 for 19 1I , none for 1912, 6 for
1913,7 for 191 4. T here is no way of knowing exa ctl y how man y sculp-
turaldrawingsandlifestudiesheproducedin those years, buthedrewevery
day.
Hi s subject-matter in sculpture is, as ever, the human being: tall, sil ent
heads ,sometimes withthetraceof anenigmati csmile, andca ryatidsat once
sensuousandanonymous .Theyusuallystanddirectlyonthegroundorona
minimal pedestal. No backgro und,no gesture, and in the bestexamplesno
poss ibleanecdoteorobviousemotion.Theseheadsare notportraits,perhaps
33-36 neither women nor men (perhaps both); the basic repertoire is voluntarily
limited to the extreme, but the range of expression is infinite. Because
Modigli anirefuses co makespecifiCreferencesthatmi ghtloca tethemin time
and place, theheadstakeonaqualit yofuni versality.Bythesa metoken,the
least successful sculptures- there have to be some - are those of1912 with
35 short , neat hairstyl es, when the features have an air ofalmost sentimen tal
stylization,nothelped by therelati vel y high fmish thatModiglianiwaslater
to rej ect.
60
33 Head, 191O-11
\ I 1 I 1 ~ h t he would place candles on top ofeach one and the effe ct was that
I i" IllIitive temple. A legend of the quarter said Modi when under the
111110 I I< " of hashish e mbraced these sculptures.' Epstein evoked this visit to
II I, li,l: he had seen nine or ten heads and one figure. They are immobile,
i II PI , I presences: a dual quality, not contradictory, of spiritual detachment
1111, Illorional involvement that may be nearer to expressing the depths of
iOll lll'. II :llli 's soul than anything else he ever produced; thei r effect was
1I11I111I g, especially when they were seen as a group, as for instance during
1<1 I Ill hition in hi s friend Souza de Cardoso's studio in I911, from which
i ll II ilL' ,t photographs of his work date. 'The stone heads affected me
I, 1.1\ I'll!' some days afterwards, I found myself under the hallucination of
I" III If'. people in the street who might have posed for them and that
'v lll' '' 111 I'csorting to the Indian he rb.' AugustusJohn had visited Modigliani
1'1 ii i, , llIdio, where the floor 'was covered with statues all much alike and
I "" II I',lo llSl y long and narrow'. As a mark of favour, he was presented with
11l 1' \' o f Modigliani's favourite book, Lautreamont's Les Chants de
, l,tI,11' 1"f.
.11,,' rultural references of Modigliani' s heads are those shared by the
, illl g:lrde generation of sculptors, namel y the so-called primitive arts of
\ 1111 1 .llld Oceania. Their cataclysmic e ffect on artistic sensibility in the fIrSt
1111 111" 1 of the twentieth century needs some explaining.
\ II io:ln sculpture had been an artistic issue si nce 1905. The debate about
II. , ' ( I iscovered' the first statuette still goes on, but nearly every young artist
II' " 111.lde a significant contribution to painting and sculpture from around
, 1111 v('. lr until the onset of the First World War was affected by it.
Y" lIl1 g art ists, having for the most part co mpleted the most conventional
"i II .Iilling, were forced into admitting an art totaHy opposed to European
'I i. I.1 ion. Here was a collective social art form: it presented an anonymous,
1i IiI "' l' sonal and supremely static human figure , neither realistic nor
HI, v(' lltionally ideali zed , with no attempt at physiognomy, proportions,
III' <I ions or social statement. A sense of the awesome emana ted from such
iWIIl l'S that had not been experienced in Europe since Romanesque
ItlIHlI1T.
Nil discoveries ofany kind -least of all artistic - ever happen accidentally.
I II. \, correspond to a social and aestheti c need. Carl Gustav Jung, fr-om
d" JlIL 1909 onwards, also examined primiti ve myths in order to understand
" ll.lill universal traits in human behaviour. Likewise, African art
1< f;" lIcrated European sculpture in that it forced artists to concentrate their
I " " 1 g il'S on the handling of pure form and an understanding of emotion as a
PI IIIJ:.d force in its own right. African and Oceanic art had the same effect on
.1 1i,;ts who preferr ed to work within the framework of Western formal
1( ' Jh'ad, 1913- 14
65
tradition, likeWilhelmLehmbruck, Ra ymond Duchamp-Villonand Ernst
Barlach.
Sculpture itself, not subject-mauer, was at issue. It is for this reason that
the avant-garde resorted to the most established subjects o f all , mainly the
nude and the head, as the range ofpossibilities was thus extended to its
maximum without any limiting refer ence to a speci fIC situation . When
emotionswer edepi cted, as in Lehmbruck' sFall en Youth orBrancusi'sKiss,
they are as basi cand universal as the formsofthe human body itself. Their
sincerityli es in theirdirectexpressionof theartist'sownfeelings ratherthana
three-dimensionalopinionaboutwhatsuch an emoti onshouldhavelooked
37 like. CompareLehmbruck'sFallen Youth toanymonumenttotheunknown
38 soldier, or Brancusi' s Kiss to any insidiously coy nymphet of the kind
churned out in hundreds at every Sal on. A popular style at these official
showrooms ofcontemporary art was sentimental reali sm, with populist
37 (above) Wilhelm Lehmbruck, Fallen
Youth, 1915-16
38 Conseantin Brancusi, The Kiss, 1911
I r\'" ~ I i J n i (ccnue) ""ieh
1,,1 1,11<' Bosler (ri ght)at the
I '11111' ,. '<)19
oil ,, ,, ,, whi ch producedworkswi thenlighteningtitles suchas Oral1g-0ulang
''' III I,lill,e a Savage from Bomeo, j\!Jan Drowl1ing ill Quicksal1d or, less
Ih liiOllal, N ot Everyt/ll'ng ill Life is Rosy, or simply Fascil1atiol1. All these
i I iI." to contemporary, albeitstrict ly bourgeoislife.
III , .", L'poch oftormented spirits and anguished souls, no-o ne is satisfied
Iii, IhL' traditional Western formsof artandaesthetics basedon Greeceand
II, ,,'"' .Ouranxious generationha ssoughttoreplace Reasonand Beauty by
I 11 11., ,:>, and intense expressiveness...This tendency[int erest in primi tive
111\ will havemarked theea rly partofthetwenti ethcentury as mLlch as the
,. '," ,1 half of the nineteenth century exa lt ed the charms ofJapanese
I"'" I,.
' " wroteAdolphe Baslerin I<)29 in L'Art cI, ez les pwples primitifs, oneof I
01 " VLTy first books on primitive sculpture which actually attempted to
J.I.,ill its contemporaryimportance. Basler,one-timedealerof Kislingand
".I , "ma] picture-peddler who wen t on to champion the work of
I I,"'l'gnein preferencetothatof Soutine,hadampleopportunitytodiscLlss
Ii" .",ti sticissuesof his day.Thereisaphotograph ofhiminaction,typicall y, .39
.,II' ''at the Dome, havin g a drink with Modigli ani .
67
40 Mask from the Ivory Coast
No serious work on rhe subject seems to have been published before rhc
First World War, alrhough extracrs of Gauguin's written works had
appeared. His supremel y romantic refut at ion ofWesrern social and cultural
values was acknowledged by all rhe arrisrs of rhe following generarion. Fatl'
was to decree rhar Modigliani 's last studio would be siruatedjust above where
Gauguin had had his, at 8, rue de la Grande Chaumiere. If Modigliani had
wanted to study primirive art, he would have had to consult obscurl'
anthropologi cal journals or erudite articles in museum journals; if the latter
mentioned non-European art, it was generally of the recognized kind, Indian
or Far Easrern, Orherwise, he could wander round the rambling diml y lit
Trocadcro Museum (now the Musee de I'Homme) or go to specialized shops
like Au Vieux Rouer in the rue de Rennes, near Montparnasse. Artists like
Picasso, Georges Brague, Henri Matisse, Derain, Maurice de Vlaminck,
Louis Marcoussis, Lipchitz and Epstein were buying African sculptures, and
Modigliani had access to rheir collections.
Tu marches 'leI'S Auteui! tu IIeux aller chez loi apied
Dormir parmi les jetiches d'Oceanie et de Cuinee
lis 50111 des Christ d'une autre form e et d'u ne au Ire croyance
Ce sont les Chrisl infririeurs des obscures esp eran ces.
(You walk to Auteuil , you want to go home on foot/To sleep amidst
your idols from Oceania and Guinea/These are Christs of another form of
anorher belief/They are the lesser Christs of hidden yearnings.)
(Apollinaire, 'Zone', published in AlcooLs.)
Apollinaire's long poem 'Zone' documents this ac tive taste for African art
among the avant-garde. The whole poem could have been abour Modigliani
68

- ' tr'"'/' .1 .) .
-//' W ' \
\
',- "':'
-, ...
I' Nude with Aji'icat1 Stallle, c. 19
1
3
1


- excCjJt that , havingnosenseofproperty whatsoever, he neverowned, leI"
;IIOIll' collected, anything.
i\lIci thcn there were the pri va te coll ectors who would patronize young
:I rlisrs working in a related vein; for instance Frank Burty Ha vil and whom
MIH!i gli ani painted and Paul Guillaume \",ho beca me Modigliani 's first
",0 :IITrediled dealer. Th e Ivory Coast mask reproduced here comes from
Cuillaurne's coll ecti on. We do not know for certain ifModigliani saw thi s
p:lrticular exampl e, but he saw many such mas ks. There are some formal
resemblances between it and Modigliani'sheads,and,above all , a detached
air o f self-absorption and internal concentrati on. Modigli ani limited hi s
in cursion into Afri ca to borrowing features such as the elongation o f the
heads, thethinllasalaxis, thcslitorbulgingeyes(afea ture Brancusihadbeen
using since 1909). Pi casso, 011 the other ha nd, experimented with differellt
cmotionallevelsgeneratedbyth eartwo rksthemselves,andwithava ri etyof
African styl es. An anonymous memoir says that Modigliani expressed his
admiration for African art in flowing letters to Afri can chieftai ns which
apparentl y remained una ns wered;perhapshe nevergot roundto posting or
even writing them, but it sounds like a very t ypi cal project an inebriated
Modigliani mi ght have planned, one night at La Rotonde, with
characteri stic passionateenthusiasm. It has been said th at theenigmat ic half-
smi le, th edelicate curls on the forehead, thealmondeyes and the elongated
33 ears ofhisearliestca rvingsorigi nat eintheartof Indi aandCa mbodia. Thisof
course is true: Modiglianiactivel y reflectsall his interests. Weknowheread
Tagore's poems, and it is likely th at , as a result, he looked at Orient al
sculpture at the Mus(:e Guimet; one source leads to the next , much as one
museum room leads to ano ther. And, ifwe are li sting influences, hi sItali an
background must not be forgotten: nearl y ever y singl e Tuscan sculpto r has
been menti oned in this connection; and, as Modigliani is such an ecl ectic
artist , linkscan be perceived with all ofthem.
Modigliani always had a need to refer to other art forms, to bounce ofF
them in order t o create; but the difl:e rent inspirations are successfull y
amal ga mated, so that onl y occasional detail s- likc the Oriental elongat ed
earlobes or the African wedge nose in some ofthc sculptures - appear as
decorative motifs.
Hi s drawings do not provide any clues as to precise sources; as he never
draws anything hesees (except ,ofcourse, li ve models), thi scan mean only
th athewasinterestedaboveall inexpressinghi svisualo piniononthesubject
(in his 'African' drawings) oractually makingor pl anning artworks(in the
case o f hi s preparatory drawings, thi s sometimes took years). There is a
4
1 drawing which is traditionall y entltled Nude with African St atue; Ihave been
unableto findan Africanstatue resembling it ,andyetitisthe most African
70
Id ,] 1his works: the int erplay offorms, the broken rhythms ofthe curves
1",111Africawithoutanyspecifi creference.Ideologicall y,itis cl osestofall to
llill lillsi' s wooden caryatids, but it is unlikely that Modigli ani wouldever
III" Jll Jde a sculpture fr om thi s design. Ifhe had, he woul d ha vejustified
III " Husi'saccusati on ofplagiarism:in 1919Brancusiaccused Modiglianiof
II 1\ ~ stolen hiSidea ofcar ya tids- which seems highly unlikely when we
I"1 111 ' ,lrc what the y both produced on thi stheme.
II\\ouldseem that from thcstart , Modigliani'saimfor al lhi sstatues was
II'Ililcctural- theideacould cert ai nl y havebeen Brancusi's, butitwasonly
, 11 , I,lter that Brancusi put it into practice, with the notable exceptionsof
3
8
11 11 'lOmbsculptures, ofwhich TheKissOfl9IOis one. Lipchitzsa ys he saw
, ,' 11 headson show at the Salon d'Automne in 191 2 (each entitl ed, in the
I,I II"gue,Heads: Decorati veEn,el11ble)' arrangedin astep-wisefashionlikethe
Iii ,",)f anorganto producethespecial musichewanted' .Re portsdi sagree,
\\ill Illl'intentionsee msto havebeentocreatean ar chitecturalensemble- as
i '1'1"I\cd to aseriesofseparate cultobj ects like Brancusi's wo rks, which are
,J, "I',lI cd for indi vidual contemplation. The sculptures themselves bear
,11 11 1 e m e n t - \70,7e couldverywell imaginetheminmassi veproportions,like
11 11 ' I.i LUeS of Easter Island, not unknown (i n reproducti on form, naturall y)
II ' Tv\ ndi gli ani , stan di ng as a forest ofthreatening presences. The opposite
tI,,,, not work: after his death, Modigliani's imitato rs made small er
.], ",r;lt ive ve rsions ofhis wor k that rank among the very wo rst and most
I. lh'II producti ons ofArt Deco.
I lt l.TateGallery head wasonce cataloguedas HeadJorthe T op ojaDoor 34
' ''III/! . Many heads appear as ifthey could be set against a wall surface by
1,' lllling themon a slightl y proj ectin g surface, or perhaps by some fo rm of
Il l,,,hl11entthroughtheto pof thehair pi ece,as thenotchinthesc ulptureof
33
i'III)- I I may indicate. This practical concern characterizes his early
I ttl pture. He must have required, even withoutspecifi call y designing it, a
I,lid ofmount,as mostheads are made to be vi ewed only from threesi des ,
II " tuckof theheadgenerallybeing left uncarved.Hisdrawin gs bearwitness
II' lli is mtention: they usually re present sculptures seen from the front, or
II I'11tly ti ltedtooneside,frequentlywithli ghtingdir ectedfromleftorright;
il"Io ften,asif theythemselveswerecolumns,thetopof theheadturnsintoa
4
2
\'," , io nofaDoriccapitalwithanabacusonto p. Onesketchactuall yshowsa
1"t1(column withits plinth compared to thelower partof thefaceandneck.
43
II,lIl eck isthe pedestal, the formal rectangul ar counterpointto theovalo f
III ( head: itisalso th e t raditionalsy mboli clinkbetween thecerebraland the
physical , which may expl ain its importance to Modigliani in hissculptures
139, 141,
II ldcvenmoreso inhi ssubsequentportrai ts.In fact ,theexaggerationof the
146
1I " I l is the most popularly glorifi ed feature in his work.
71
37
....
1
J
\
/
42 H ead wilh an AbaCl/s,
19 1 1-12
For Lehmbrllck, too, the neck is often the focal point of the spiritual
tensions that animate his elongated introverted figures. Thi s young German
sculptor's brief tragic life (r 88 I-I 919) ended in sui cide, and in many ways
paralleled Modigliani' s; he had arrived in Paris in 1910, and conremporary
witnesses imply that they knew each other. Lehmbruck's stance remained an
independent one, as hi s formal terms of reference were st ri ctl y European; he
first looked to anti quit y and then to northern Gothic art , which was best
suited for hi s asceti c figures. He manages to convey private tragedy, without
the lise of all egory or gesticulation; and this is a mode of expression which
72
I I ""IId wi lh a Plil1lh, c. 1910
tvl, l( ligliani was in complete sy mpathy with, as shown especiall y by his
I"",quent portraits.
Modigliani called his caryatids c%nnes de tendresse; he planned hundreds of
11 ,.. 111 for a temple of beauty th at was never built. Classical caryatids, such as
II,,,,, at the Erechtheion in Athens, stand unperturbed, carrying the temple's
I'! ), rstructure on their heads, w hereas Modi gliani 's support the tremendous 47-50
\\c' l", ht of an imaginary lintel with their w hole body. Both Modi gli ani's
1 .11 vati ds are life- size; the standing one was carved in 1912; it is s ft 3in. tall, 46
111.11 is j ust two inches shorter than Modi gliani himself; the crouching one 50
,I ,lles from the following year and measures 3ft 3in.
We can foll ow their development in the drawings. Just before starting
\V" rk on the sculptures, there is a series of rather Apolloni an, muscular
VOllng mel', which indicates, among other interests, a reference to classical
dil ligllity, a source he was lat er to explore more thoroughl y; this is
nrroborated by the stance of some of the standing fi gures he
.t r: lws, as well as the pose of the crouching one which derives from the
, I:! ,sical Hell eni sti c half-kneeling Venus, of which there are at least two
" ulptured examples in the Louvre.
73
44 Standirlg Woman, I9IC>-II
45 Starldillg Carya'tid, 191 1-12
The framework in which Modigliani works is decidedly classical, as is
Aristide Maillol 's or Elie Nadelman's, but in Modigliani ' s case, the terms of
reference for working out the balance of forms are quite non-European.
44 Sketches of that time show that he was looking at African statuettes of
standing women, which were in fact part of functional objects.
45 It is worth comparing the oil sketch of the standing caryatid with the
4
6
resulting sculpture. In the sketch, her legs taper, her elbows and hips are
angular, her narrow waist and her neck are encircled by beads: she has the
fragile grace of a young Oriental temple dancer. For two whole years, he
worked out the distribution of the masses, and in the final sculpture, the bulk
of her weight is on the legs - their massiveness is directly borrowed from
African wooden sculpture; now the elbows are completely rounded. And
74
i" ", II/ dillg Caryatid, 1912
althollgh the overall proportions are monstrous compared to the classicJI
,,lIlt)!l. Modigliani has achieved a sensuous harmonization of the whole. Thl'
t.ICC is typical of the heads he was carving at the time. In 191 1- 13.
produced eight oils of caryatids, mainly in a ruddy terracotta
l(llll' on a brownish background; they arc definitely painted as statues 011
(lcC:Jsional pedestals, or supporting a lintel above their heads with their
.j8 lIpturned palms.
50 In 191 I to 1912, he began working on his crouching caryatid who in fact
47 began life on both knees, supporting an architrave with her arms.
Interspersed are some sketches of nude models trying out different poses.
There is a series oflarge watercolour sketches that must be among the finest
48,49 works Modigliani ever produced and which relate to the sculpture. In the
50 sketches he experiments with the idea of the female figure supporting a
heavy weight; a myriad of tensions results from the opened and closed
48,jrontis rhythm of her sinuous curves - the effort is sexual in its intensity.
From all accounts, Modigliani had enormous love within him to give, but
once he got involved in the responsibilities of a relationship, a conflict of
personalities would rapidly ensue, and his behaviour under pressure could
become gross, even violent. He preferred casual affairs and romantic
fantasies. His brief intimacy with the Russian poetess Anna Akhmatova
combined the two and was to be typical of the kind of encounters he had
with northern ladies of literary inclination; his relationship with Lunia
Czechowska was to be the supreme example. Akhmatova, then twenty-two
- three years younger than Modigliani - was on a visit to Paris without her
husband. In a memoir she wrote when she was seventy, she says that
Modigliani wandered with her through Paris by moonlight and that they
recited the poems of Paul Verlaine together in the rain seated on a bench in
the Luxembourg under his enormous black old umbrella. She threw roses
through the window of his sculpture studio, and he drew her as an Egyptian
queen. To her, he was gentle, courteous and discreet. The presence of the
beautiful poetess in Paris had the infinite charm of an intense but fleeting
encounter.
The caryatids have no faces, no individuality, but they have personality in
that th ey are defined as Modigliani's ideal love objects, not unlike the
glorious sexual goddesses of Indian statuary whose tensions and rhythms
they echo. The f1l1ish in the sculptures is now rough: woman has become an
archetypal force emerging, as it were, from the earth itself. The caryatids are
comparable to the great series of nudes he painted in 1916 and T917, but the
difference is that in the pictures it is purely the sexual encounter itselfwhich is
glorified (see pp. 143-44, 157-59)
Despite his ambitious plans, these were the only caryatids ever completed:
76
47 Crorlcillng Caryatid (preliminary drawing for ill. 50), 19
1
0-11
lI ell blocks of stone were very expensive and for a basically untrained
'l tli ptor presented difficulties in handling; carving itself was extremely tiring
,li d dusty and it exhausted Modigliani's strength and fragile lungs.
\l y important differences were arising bet\veen Modigliani and 19
12
Ilr,lllcusi. Brancusi had taught him to look at non-European sculpture and
1t " IN to extract what he needed from it, while staying clear of Cubism and
I x fl1'essionism. With Brancusi, he had learnt how to reduce forms to their
r lloS( essential components and give a unified treatment of the surface. But
II"W Brancusi was moving towards a greater purity of form and ultimate
,hstraction, and Modigliani neither could nor wished to follow - in fact, he
, ,'llid not bear the overpolished, almost mechanical f111ish of Constantin's
77
I I '"oHciling Caryafid, 19 13
I ( 'onstantin Brancusi ,
/'''''"I' r/leIlS, 1911
)11 " iousheads. (Such criticismwas fr equentlytobelevell ed at Modi gliani's 51
11\\II bterpaintings.)
III 19
0
9, when Modigliani met him, Brancusi was producing work that
li l ll l \ onl y slightly at his poten tial , and it was on this intuition as much as
ol ll \ l hingelse that Modi glianihad moved to Montparnasse. Modiglianihad
I' .Il intuitionas far as thetrue valueofartistsand theevolutionof hi sown
,,1 \\L'fe concerned;hewasamongthefirsttorecognize thetalentsofUtrilio
" "Io..,o utine, and Beatrice Hastings was later tosay thathe was a medium.
Whathashithertobeen totallydisregardedis thatBrancusionlystarted to
" ,.Ik \: 'Brancusis'in the yea rs Modigli ani livedinthecite Falguiere.Thereis 51
" I,knce that a real two-way exchange took place between the artists, as
111,I ll cusi 'slittle-known paintingsshow; in fact, they may well have helped 52
I 1\ II othertofind themselves. Whenthey fell out,Modigli ani movedo utto
i l il ly glass box ofastudio onground-floorlevel in the boulevard Raspa il.
IId igli ani hadrealized for someti.me thathe needed tomoveaway; in the
I1111 Illerof1912he spentawholeda ywithEpstein lookingforastlldio that
IIii' I\VO couldshare,ontheButteMontmartre; buttheywereunsuccessful in
! I" Irquest,as purpose-builtstudioswererare,andfewpeoplewelcomedthe
I'""pectof havinganeighbourwhohammered andchisellednightandday.
I I"lrin had tosettl e in a room nexttoa baker 's,who rapidly made troubl e
,' "'~ he realized thatthe artist he had rented the room to was nota painter
1'111 .1carver.
III 19 I 2, Modiglianithesculptorhad found himself. Wehaveseen thatin
., 11.lill cases, over-stylization couldlead to preciosity. Modigli anicorrected 35
11I111.\clfby returning to the natllre ofthe stone itselfand producing a few
81
52 ConstaJ1[in Brancusi, Portrait
oj a Woman, c. 191 8
3
6
,55 dramatic boulder-like sculptures where heads emerge from the rock like
archaic figureheads expressing their power through the rough-hewn quality
50 of the stone. The head of the crouching caryatid is one of these.
The change may relate to his ve ry last trip to Italy in 1912, when
Emanuele gave him some money to find work premises in Carrara.
Although he found the climate there too suffocating, a visit to
Michelangelo's quarries must have been very impressi ve. Michelangelo had
wrenched his sculptures from the mountain itself, and the intimacy of his
relationship to the stone is best shown in the Dyil1g Slaves in Florence, half-
embedded in the rock , to which Modigliani certainly referred.
One person understood what he was getting at in these sculptures and was
the very fir st to write about them, in 1914 and 1915. Beatrice Hastings'
82
1I1 1'flrt ance will be discussed in the next chapter, but this sensi tive analysis of
1110' tl l-those la ter scul ptures should be quoted here. It is dated Februa ry 1915.
I possess a stone head by Modigli ani which I would not part for roo
,II ,It this crisis: and I routed out thi s head from a corner sacred to the
Iltldl1Sh of centuries, and I was call ed stupid for m y pai ns in taking it away.
II!l il ling human save the mean is missing from the stone. It has a fearful chip
,1" ' I' C the right eye bu t it can stand a few chips. I am tol d that it WJS never
that it never will be finished, that it is not worth finishing . There is
11"I I,i llg that matters to fll1ish
l
The whol e head equably smiles in
I' ' "I< 'lllplati on of knowledge, of madness, of grace and sensibility, of
' 11'I, idity, of sensuality, o f illusions and disillusions - all locked away as
Hillin of perpetual meditati on. It is as readable as Ecclesiast es and more
i for there is no lu gubrious looking-back in this effulgent smile of
lill' lI igcnt equ ilibrium. What avail for the ar tist to denounce such a work;>
I"", feplies that one can live by it as by grea t literature. I wi ll never part with
1I 11" l.-sSt o a poet; he will find what I find and the unfortunate artist will have
II '" I,oice as to his immortality.
I III' sn dpture referred to seems to have disappeared: if, as earl y as 1915 , o ne
'I lidd li nd Modigliani heads on rubbish tips, thi s indi cates that a grea t many
il l> '11 ' must have been lost in his own lifetime.
fv\() digliani 's technique is particularly visible on the reverse side of the
, 11 11' 1me in the Centre Porn pidou. It is a rectangular block 22 in. high on the
I" , II I of which the face only just proj ects, as if to emphasize its ori gin, as if to 54
" Ih:lt mystery emanates as much from a pi ece oflimestone begged from a
lli l,j d llig site as from highl y polished marble or bronze. One has no way of
I 11 1 ' \\ illg if a primitiveJanus was intended. On the re verse arc the beginnings 53
" I ,"'Ilther face. The Ourli1le of th e essential features are thinly scratched on
II" 1I:lt surface, and Modigliani has begun to chisel on one side of the nose
!i .,1\ heck. It is evident that he builds up from the axis of the nose outwards, a
, IIlire that had been noted in contemporary descriptions: 'lifting up the
li n ,s of drawings he showed me his sculptures, the stone heads with their
1" I it- n ovals. Perfect eggs along whi ch ran noses like arrows towards the 55
1'1 111 11 11 . They were never finished as iffrom shame, never who lly sculptured
j. 'I .1mysterious reason' (Zadkine, L'e l\1(/illct el le ciscaM, sOlAvenirs de In(/ vie).
ill those years, M odi gJiani made one last trip to It aly, this time as a
l i til'tor. The dating is complicated, but it is likely that it took place in the
\,{" lining summer of 1912_ The state of his health in Paris was so alarming
11I I1 it prompted hi s friend, the painter Ortiz de Zarate to collect money to
; 111 / him ho me for a rest. Jacob, who had contributed to this coll ection ,
111 1 111 ions several in his correspondence. Before lea ving, Modi gliani brought
L.II iJi s sculptures in a wheelbarrow to Alexandre.
83
53 Head (reverse of ill. 54), 1913
54 Head, 1913
' Hi s head was shaven like that of an esca ped convict and more or less
covered with a small cap wit h the visor torn off. He was wearing a miserable
linen j acket and open shirt and his tro use rs were held up by a string tied to his
waist.' This is how an eyewitness in Ital y describes him; apparentl y he also
gave the impression of a 'phantom who came in and o ut when you least
expected it'. The appea rance o f a visionary. He told hi s friends about
primiti ve sculpture, and they mocked him. He proudl y shovved them
photographs of hi s sculptures , and they laughingly suggested he dump them
in the di tch. But he persevered and looked for a place to work. Whether he
carved an y sculptures is not known; no thing survives of this trip. Now, more
than ever, Modigliani realized the extent of hi s des perate loneliness as an
arti st in Italy, and it affected him deepl y. Hi s fr iends in Livorno mi ght have
84
IIIIdcrstood if they could have attached the accepted modern label to his
" Id pture, had it even faintly resembled the work of Medardo Rosso or
II<l tTioni , but its supreme barbaric staticness alienated his carvings
.IIlIultaneously from Italian academicism and Futurist endeavours. His
, I1lpture, if not his paintings, had even fewer connections in Ital y than in
I 1.111Ce, and he never returned to Livorno.
1\ t the onset of the First World War, he stopped sculpting. Materials were
11 , )\\, expensive, as the war had closed down a number of building sites, and
II,i , lmposed a definite cut-down on available stone. Al exandre said that if
1\ \(1digliani had had someone to prepare the blocks for him - \'vhich was the
II I", t exhausting part of it - he could have gone on carving. The fact that he
11. 1' unable to continue his career as a sculptor was the central tragedy in his
j il e' , and he was to grieve for it in all his paintings, as their frequentl y
'.' II lptural character shows. Modigliani was acutely aware of his own worth
11 III deep down knew the value of his own sculpture, and this makes the
" III, ltion all the more heart-breaking. [n many ways, his scu lpture is his only
1'"1'(' 11' twentleth-century achievement. Paradises of the artificial kind were
11 1< rcasll1gly to provide a precarious refuge from this inescapable reality.
I lcs pite his participation in exhibitions, he did not sell anything, and this at a
l i llie when his close friends were beginning to be successful; during the war
' I'L'll his allowance was cut so he had to face problems of survival. For quick
; ,,, h, he began to draw people in cafes. The break was not sudden, and he
1' !' L'fcrred to think of portrait drawing as a sideline; Beatrice Hastings, who
IIl('t him in 1914, says that his main preoccupation was still sculpture and
Illc rs to him inJune 1914 as 'the bad gar"on of a sculptor' (mauvais garfon,
1,.ld boy, villain).
In lve short years, Modigliani had made signilcant and influenti al
,(Illtributions to sculpture. His work in this fi eld was probably more
1111cgrated to the general development of the avant-garde than his painting,
II' hich his contemporaries viewed as anachronisti c, ever was. But he was not
1. lkcn seriously in either discipline, and although he craved recognition, he
" fused compromises, artistic or social; and such independence, as we shall
. ('C , was a diffi cult , even fateful position to maintain, especiall y in the case of
'.( I fragile and insecure a person as Modigli ani.
" Head. 1012-1<
87
56 Ga briel Fo urnier, At La R%nde, 1916
CHAPTER FOUIl
Montparnasse 1914-17
U,1 siphon etemue
Les cancans Iitt eraires 1I0l1t leur train
T out bas
A la R otonde
CO /'/1 l11e au JOlld d' lIn lIe rre
J' attends
1\ '''phon botrl e sneezes/The literati prattl e on/ Softl y/At la Rotonde/ As if at
I", I,(mom of a glass/ I wair)
(Cendrars, Le Pal/ al/Ia au les allentures de mes sept ol/ eles, 19
1
4)
1\ ,,, ,Irparnasse hencefo rth repl aces Mo ntmartre. Mo untain fo r mountain,
\ , still on the heighrs; ar t still prefers the summits.' Apollinaire had no ted
L' 1,11/ >'/ ccoll1pli : the arti stic generation had mo ved co Montparnasse . Pi casso,
I,,, Ilisrance, now li ved in the rue Schoelcher, near the famous Montparnasse
I Il ll ter y, Kees van Do ngen in the rue Denfert-Rochereau, Kisling in the
1110 Illseph Bara. Most of the others li ved in the cite Falg uiere, La Ruche or
11 11\ studios do tted all over the left bank. As always in Pari s, where they
iii Ilik ,md socialized beca me the fo ca l point o f avant-ga rde devel opments:
11 11 ' . . lil happened in the area where the boulevard Montparnasse crossed the
111 111 k:vard Raspai l, opened in 191 l. Montparnasse is
I I " tl mry of fr esh air and cafe terraces: the rerr ace of the Cl oseri e des Lilas
III ", ided over by Paul Fo rt ... the rerrace o f La Ro tonde, where you ca n see
I 1. 1illg, MaxJacob, Ri vera, Fri esz and orhers; the terrace of the Do me where
1." ' 11 find Basl er . .. Pascin and all other Do me dwellers ensconced; the terrace
II I ill l.' Petit Napolitain where Pierre Roy, G. de Chirico and Modi gli ani
Ii Ill.sh themselves; and the terrace of the Versaill es where Marquet ... likes
III while away the time. These ca fes are the oases of a region.
(Apollinaire, Apol/inai re on Art: Essays and R ell iews 1902- 191 8.)
" 1", IJi naire (writing here in 1914) could have added the restaurants: Bat y's
II "'SS the road fr om the Dome, famo us fo r it s oysters, and Rosalie's, a stone' s
11,IIIW awa y in t he rue Ca mpagne-Premi ere, memorable for the rats. In most
II f till' se pl aces, you could order one dish po rtion) for 60 so us (that is 3
89
------
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CAFE DUPARNASSE
EXPO:' ITION PERMANENTE
doplusde 200 CEuvres d' Art
----
---- -
GLA CE SET COHSOMMATIONSDE CHOIX
10.3 , tlu J.{6Iitpaffi ass
T 6l ephon o . FLEunus 21-34
Teroph. : SA XE 26-82
CAFE DE LA ROTONOE
RENDEZ-VOUS
des Artistes du QU<:ll'tie'l'
lOS. B oulevClr-d du
r.lOt, ro : VAVIN
Madame Ger mame LIEVENS
p,',.\. '\11 d., /lI"IIX. 'lI,"
AU PETIT NAPOLITAIN
,-
I
DONNE DES DE PIANO
T'.ltphono : F'L!:URUS 13-41 S bls, Rue Campagne P,..mlcro
eG.. Boule-I,tard MO!l.lparnasse. 95
Q.t!I't
LIBRAIRIE MONTPARNASSE
Livraisons de GLACES en Ville I
129. Boul e:varrd d u rrrontparnasse
R E N D EZ-VO'JS
i;E PEIN,URES J
L1VRES, PAPHERIE, CARTES DE VISITE
!('I I' , OI1RIH';, f . II .. }'"',lie. t:.. r',,,. .
U... p. !tu .....,"
57 Advertisements from lv1ol1tpamasse, including one for La Rorondc
francs, there being 20SOUS - or IOO centimes - to a franc), oralternatively
half (unc demi-porlion) for 40 SOll S. As there were generally no cooking
facilities in the cites or in the sixth-Aoor maids' rooms that most aspiring
artistsorpoetslivedin, thi ssystemass uredthemsurvivalofakind.Whenthe
allowance came from Cracow or Livorno, thechic thingto dowas tohave
two different halfporti ons; on ly unsophisticated people weresati sfied with
just one dish_ The patrons of these establishments were formidable
characters who defended th eir cli ent s, however poor: Modigliani and
countless others paid for drinks and mea ls when they could afford them_
56,57
Libion, thepatron of La Rotonde,said thatitdidn'tmatt er, as art ists, as SOOIl
as theyhadmoney,werebigspenders;andhedidacceptartworksinlieuof
payment. His collection of paintings by Modigli ani - whose devoted
admirerhe remained- wassurpassed onl y by thatof thebut chernextdoor.
Rosaliewas oftenmovedtotakeherIt ali ancompatri ot ' spicturesinpayment
forhismeals: inhercaseitwaspurecharit y,asshejustAungthem(alongwith
Utrillo's) in thecellar after their departure. Montparnasse was Modigliani's
territor y, it was there that he li ved and worked, huddling for warmth in
thosechauvini sti cdayswitho thermeteques (a deroga torytermforfor eigner,
frequently applied to the artists in Montparnasse in those days)_ The
atmospherealternatedbetweendespairandextrememirth,es pecially during
.........

--
'-
\ ,', I :lIi/iaume Apollinaire,
III I ,
Ji]l' :Irtists' ball s to which Beat rice Hasti ngs often went when she arrived
III 1' :lris, es pecially before becoming involved with Modigliani: 'much
I much applause for your frock ifit is chic, 300 people inside and
the Rotonde, very much ali ve
l
Modelsarrayedin a Aame orahalf-
' II' IL llldancingdown th eBoulevard tothebalandabsolutely unmolested,an
jll, li ,lI l full ofwar-pai nt , Spani ards, Chinese, Bacchus everybody you can
1III IIk of'.
I'u support himself, Modigliani like many others would draw people at 58, 59
1,1 1(-, . and thisis oftenwhatheis bes trememberedforbypeopleatthattime_
I II(' procedurewas generall y thi s: he would stare for a whi le at the sitter's
I 'thenthe pencilwould run in ever ydirect ionall ove r thesheetof paper
II hewould keep himselfcalm by hummingtunes to himself. _..Ifthe
91
9
0
firsr illlplIl se was not satisfactory, Modi gliani took on an air o f bon'"
illdilkn'll cc;hc wouldlookabo uthimqui ckl y before throwinghimself Oil.'
hl :lIlk shcct that he would maul vi o lently with his pencil.' When it wa'
56 C(lIl'pil'tC, he would ask for a drink. Gabri el Fourni er was one of the fc\\
witllesses to no te the passion thatwent into even a qui ck sketch.
Til e mood in those cafes during the wa r was a ver y parti cular one, :, '
Vl:llllinck no ted: 'The done thing was to be o r at least look abnormal 01
strJll gc. Ever yonesmoked opium,consumed hashi sh [hashi sh pill sonl yCOSI
25 ccntimes each, but few peopl e rest ricted their consumption to onc .1
day, took alcohol and ether ... painters, poets, would-be writers were all
poor, but it did no t matter, it was not a questi on o f who made the mos!
money. The o ne thin g you had t o have was a ferocio ussense o f humo ur.'
Modi gli ani was no t naturall y witt y; he may havebeen too invol ved with
expressi ng hisown emo tions to acquire the necessary dist ance to be able tll
laug h at himself. Instead, he created 1-1/1 perso /1rlage, acharacter, recogni zabl,'
atadi stan ce byolltrageousconduct- aBo hemianofthegrand manner. 'It\
odd butyo uneversee Modi gli ani drunkanywhere butatthecornersof the
bo uleva rd Mo ntparnasse and the bo ul eva rd Raspail' Picasso remarkcd
59 sourly, Modi gliani inscribed a portraitofhim ' Savoir' (,Knowing') .Pi casso
saw thro ugh ever ything, everyone. Modi gli ani was in fa ct incapable 01
having any kind o fdiscussion with peopl e with whom he di sagreed:whell
theC ubi stcontroversyragedatLaRotonde,ifdrawninto debates, hewould
oft en come to blows, especiall y with a drink inside him. It was the saml'
withthewomen in hislife: hewouldnothesit ate to thrashBeatri ceHastings
orJeanne Hebuterne in public,and forthese reasonsLibio noften threwhim
out o r even occasionally banned him fro m hi s premises. So Modi gliani
refrained from discllssing art , and hi s painter fri ends were generally
85 , 68, 65 unaffili ated, like himself: Solltine, Ki slin g, Diego Ri vera, Orti z de Zarate,
Vlaminck,Jul esPascin.In hi sintellectualbackgro und,hewas cl osestto poets
86 like Cendrars, Salmon,J acob,with who m he wo uld enjoy fr equen tliterary
andphilosophi caldi scussions.Hiswhol eworldwasmadeupo fthese people.
In 1914, Mo di gli ani madeagradualtransitio nfromanacti vit yexclusively
concernedwithsc ulpt uretooneconcentrati ngon painting:thelinkingfactor
was his incessant drawing. With Cubi sm the dominant st yle, painting and
sculpture in their simultaneous expl orati on into tangible form and space
were bo und to be cl osel y connected, and Modi gli ani 's own resear ch in that
dir ection was integrated into the general tre nd. 'They say here that he
[Modi g liani) will do no more ofthese questi onless immo bile heads, as his
63, 66 desi g nsbegintosettheimmobileamidstthemobil e.'Thi smaybeareference
to the way Modi gli ani sets his solid fi g ures in fluid backgro unds, as in his
drawings and paintings o f 1914.
92
59 Picasso, 191 5
1il l' critichere is Beatri ce Hastings (writinginJul y T91 4), withwhomhe
I', III have a rel ati vel y long lovc-affair. Signing hersel f Ali ce Morning in
)11I ' l'gul ar ' Impressionsof Pari s' for the avant- garde review The New Age ,
l'it! "IshedinLondo n,shedescribesherexperi ences inwartimeMontparnasse
111.1 (l iten givesunexpected insi ght saboutModigli anithatar e in valuable for
dll ll' unsentimental truthfulness and because they refl ect contemporar y
"I" "ion.Theyaretheo nl ywritingsaboutModi gli anithatarenotindulgent
I , 1III Iliscencescl ouded b ythe knowledgeo fhis tragicending,so theywill be
h ,' 1lI cntl y quoted es peciall y as, in most cases, they have never since been
I I I" illted,
I' he important thin g is that Bea trice, writing in 1914 and 1915, was not
" Hlvincedo fthe uniqueness of his talent (exce pt , perhaps, in sculpture)and
I" " everyone in Montparnasse was struck essenti all y by the extrao rdinary
l ' f' l ,, 'e he cut, who m she first introduces in her column as ' the pale and
IIVlshing vill ain' dressed in corduroy. She met him at the very mo ment
,,11 (' 11 hewas leaving sculpture:
93
'I said: " Modigliani, someone says that you've been three years fiddlin!"
abollt with one type of head and you' ll be another three on the new design" ,
11(' (;lJ1lC round. "Cretin" he glared at me as though I had said it. "Mai"
111; hl-a is ma petite, he is right! I might have grown asparagus in the time".'
Thi s WJS written for the mid-July 1914 issue of The New Age. Modigliani\
shows that the slow progression of his sculpture troubled him and
l l'rtainly contributed to hi s'fi nal decision to give up the activit y altogether; il
required much grea ter discipline and self-confidence than he possessed,
There must have been a long moment of embittered self-hatred for nOI
realizing his greatest ambition, perhaps connected with his now
escalating consumption of drugs and drink. Beatrice notes in the sa mt'
column his rather alarming way of passing out in public.
Portraiture gave him another chance to prove himself as an artist. Despitl'
the fact that deep down he knew hi s value, sometimes being the only one
who co nsistentl y believed in it (until his most devoted deal er Zborowski) , he
needed to boost his self-confidence by gaining outside recognition. This he
did by taking commi sions for portraits; they were easily exhibited, popular
beca use of their immediacy, and therefore much more sal eable thall
sculptures of mysterious deiti es.
Modigliani's return to pai nting is marked by two experimental paintings
60,65 in a semi-divisionist technique: the portraits of Havil and and of Rivera. The
techni que is not in the leas t a homage to Seurat, whom, as he told Fournier, h('
found too compli cated; after years of abstention through sculpture, the
sheaves of colour exploding all over the canvas are more a passionate
rediscovery of bri ght pi gment.
60 Hav iland tried hard to be a painter. Stingy despit e his considerabl e wealth
(he was known as 'Le Riche' ), he lived in a large studio, near Picasso's, which
was fill ed with African o bjects. In the painting, he stares intensel y at an
Jlmost invisible paintbrush; in a wry manner Modi gliani may be sayi ng that
Le Riche is trying too hard to be something he had no talent for. When
portraying other fellow artist s, Modigli ani never sho\.ved them with the
tools of their trade: they did not need to prove that they were artists.
Rivera was one of Modigliani' s closest fri ends; he was to become the most
famo us Mexi can painter of the twentieth century. He was the sa me age as
Modigli ani and had come to Paris by way of Spain in 1909 on a Government
grant . He was trained in the classical Ingres-based tradition but was also
aware and appreciati ve of indi genous Mexican art - a feature which would
have int erest ed Modigliani. But while he was in Pari s, Rivera went through
Post-Impressionist and Cubi st phases until about I91 7; foll owing a trend
Modigliani had helped make fa shionable (in that he had never devi ated from
it), he went back to a much more cl assical , figurative art, as the sel f-portrait
94
II" /:ra/1k Burty Ha viland, 1914
95
---

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...

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:=....
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, >-'1;' .
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6 1Diego Ri vera, Self-poItrail, 1918
. I.
62 Diego Rivera(pcncil st udyfor ill.
65), c. 1914 , 'j
61
reproduced here shows. When he returned to Mexico in 192 1and until his
death in 1957, he revived mural techniquesand fresco painting.
[n Paris, Rivera was Modi gliani 's companion-in- armsat mostorgiesand
violent cafe-debates; they must have been an impressive pair, not unlike
LaurelandHardy: Rivera ,enormous, convivial,expansive, andModigliani.
slight, somewhat fragil e, and extremel y reserved until he was drunk.
Marevna Vorobev, who bore Ri vera a daughter, and herselfan artist, has
writtenmostentertainingbooksonthecommunal ar tistic lifeofthose days.
65 Rivera emerges in the painting as a massi ve, almost three-dimensional
figure from an ocean oflight di visioni st strokes. Hi sj ocund, Rabel aisian
personality comes through in theexaggerationofthesculpturalqualiti es of
the face. Although Modigliani always preferred to paint oval faces , in this
case - and in the drawings and preparator y sketch - he accentuated the
roundness of Ri vera's face. Atthis peri od (1914-15) and inter mittentlylater
62,63
on, differences can be seen between those portrait drawings of a self-
contained nature (solel y hi s domain until Matisse, the post-19
1
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r. \ I )iego Rivera (pcncil study
,,,' i ll. 65), c. 1914
" I Picasso, and all their imitators) and the drawings where he is seeking
II llmmation thatwill be useful for a later painting.
The three drawings of Rivera are made up of loose lines in which
" ' l1 digli ani places the subj ect in the picture plane and defll1es the sitter's
" llimpnessandgrandiloquence.Inonesketchthespacefits so tightlyaround 62
It ,vera that one feels thatthe picture plane would explode ifheattempted
I lly gesture.In the final drawing,thelinesappearinsomepl acesas aseri esof 63
,I,.I s, hinting at the painting technique to be used.The fancy lettering here
II l.1 y be Modi gli ani's homage to Apollinaire's Calligra/nmes, in whi ch the
1. 1LLTing is based on Futurist poetry.
By the end of1914, Modigliani had fll1all y acquired a unified style in
" ,\ illting,justas he had achieved unity insculpture.Thatisnotto say thata
artistic personalit y had not already revealed itself in his early
p,1 iutings: an artist in search ofa personality isbound to disperse his energy
IlI lI king for himsel f; indeed the reassembl ed fragments make up a style.
Whenwelookatthepaint ingsbefore1914,wecanseeakindof progression
97
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66 Hem'; Laurens, 19! 5 67 Jea/1 C octeau, 1916
that leads naturally to sculpture; after that there is a visual continuity in
his paintings, in that a certain evocative vocabulary of facial form has been
evolved that becomes recognizably 'Modigliani' of I9I4-I6: oval or round
shapes exaggerated, often modelled, their sculptural potential usually stressed;
necks like pill ars, only slowly becoming the stems Modigliani's portraits are
generally associated with; the noses are ridges dividing the planes or are
given Cubist multiple-vi ewpoint treatment, yet, being one of the sit ter's
most di stinctive features, he allows them considerable realism; likewi se for
the mouths, al though he prefers to depi ct them small, as in his sculpture. The
eyes are the focal point, sometimes simultaneously open and shut, at times
blank, yet hypnoti c, fr equentl y both; stars, tiny cacti, diamond studs, pools,
lakes, whirlpools, metal spheres or endl ess combinations; microcosms of the
sitters' personalities and of the relationships bet\Neen them and Modigli ani.
His own eyes were his most startling feature, transfixing peopl e in a most
disturbing way; by all accounts , wo men were fr equentl y hypnotized by
him; maybe cocaine added something to that persistent glare.
roo
rite surfaces of the paintings are influenced by sculpture: in this period,
iIl.Y are never smooth and polished; they are built up, scumbling and
II II pasto are used, the paint is scratched with a dry brush to reveal the la yers
\"' Ilcath; locks of hair are sometimes traced with the tip of the brush handle in
tl1<' wct paint and, just as in his earli est sculpture, an effect of low relief is
J Il', lted that cannot be per ceived in reproduction. 66, 69
Modigliani uses many techniques to express the personali ties of his sitters.
lil ho th his portraits of Henri Laurens, the Parisian sculptor' Spowerful build 66
, II ILTges from the canvas like granite; even his features seem hewn from
I. u k. In the seated portrait, the simultaneous viewpoints of the shoulders, the
I..!ward tilted angle of the table, the beige-green colour scheme and the
\,.Irsc, dry quality of the brushwork in the deliberately unfmished work
III di c;lte a grea ter interest in Cubism than Modi gliani would have admitted
rll ,
Ib diguet is seen as the frail , sensitive adol escent ra ther than the literary 69
\, rtl digy he was to become, soon to be 'adopt ed' by Cocteau. Here he is onl y
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68 Moi:, c Kisling, 191 5
twelve, and by the time ofhis death from typhoid at the age oftwenty, he
hadwrittentheastonishingLe Diable au Corps. Theintensityof his immense
blue eyes is at once childlike and prophetic; one eye is blank and inward
looking. Modigliani often portrayed in this way peopl e whose minds he
66,86
respected: Laurens, Picasso,Jacob, for example.
68
Kisling is depicted with adirectness and simplicity that correspond
exactly tothewayhealwaysbehavedtowardsModigliani,towhomheoften
lenthis studioandevenpaintingmaterials. Theysometimespaintedside by
side, as theirportraitsofCocteaushow: Kisling showsthe poetas asensitive
wi thdrawn soul, absorbed in his thoughts in a large room; Modigliani 's
portrait, all sharpness and angles, is a frontal attack on Cocteau, whom he
found insufferably pretentious. As so often happened with Modigliani's
67
work, Cocteau came much later to look like this I?ortrait, which he hated:
evenat the time, hesaw himselfportrayed as DorianGray. ' Hi scurled hair
seemedtositontopofhisangulardrawnface, hisskinhadanochretingeand
")Raymond Radiguet, 1915
102
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drawing fo r ill. 73) , L 1916
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his eyes were emphasised with a blue line. Everything in his artificial
personalit y repell ed me.' Fournier's descripti on of the man fits the painting.
By 1916, the drawings map out the exact composition of the flJ1ished
painting, but he still needs the actual presence of the model. 'To do any
work, I must have the living person, I must be able to see him opposite m t"
he told Leopold Survage later. Front alit y is most important, there being
hardly any profIle or three-quarter vi ews and practically no full-l ength
portraits, as Modigliani needed to retain ment al, emotional and ph ysical
closeness with his sitters.
Lipchitz, the sculptor, commissioned him to paint a double portrait 0 1
himself and his wife Bertha.
He came the next day and made a lot of preliminary drawings one ri ght after
the other, with tremendous speed and precision. Finall y a pose was decided
on - a pose inspired by our wedding photograph. The foll owing da y at on\"
o' clock, Modigliani came in w ith an old canvas and hi s box of painting
materials and we began to pose. I see him so cl ea rl y even now - sitting ill
fr ont of his canvas whi ch he put on a chair, working quietl y int errupting
onl y now and then to take a gulp fr o m a bottle standing nea rby. From time
to time, he would get up and glance criti call y over hi s work and look at his
models. By the end of the da y, he said ' Well , [ guess it 's ftnished.'
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As Modigliani charged per sitting, and Lipchitz wanted him to mal.,
lIWI'\, IlIOIlCY, he asked him to continue the next day; Modigliani said 'ifYPII
walll I1IC to ruin it I can go on' , but was persuaded grudgingly to contilll!'
illl() :1 second session, although this was uncharacteristic of his paintill l'
7 0 7 ~ 111<thods. Of the preparatory drawings, 5 survive, all remarkable for til(,11
rcr.'CIll'SS and evocative economy of line; 2 are ofLipchitz, 2 are of his wit.
:1IIt! Ol1ly I of them shows the fully elaborated composition. The backgroulld
is defi ned by a few lines around the head, as is frequent in the portr:11I
dr;1wings ofI916-17.
In the middle of 1914, two people stepped into his life and attempt<'d
to organize it: Bea trice Hastings, with whom he had his fIrSt seriOII -.
emotional relationship, and Guillaume, the first art dealer to believe ill
Modigliani as an artist.
Before Beatrice, 'the English poetess who gets drunk on her own Oil
whisky' as Jacob described her to Apollinaire, there had been many affair"
none lasting more than a few weeks: chiefly models, performers, de",;
monda;nes , the occasional poetess; he carefully cultivated his reputation as .1
cruel tombeur (literally, 'he who makes women fall'). But what Il\'
experienced with Beatrice was new to him.
A complex character. A pig and a pear\. Met in 1914 at a 'cremerie'. I sal
opposite him. Hashish and brandy. Not at all impressed. Didn't know wh"
he was. He looked ugly, ferocious, greedy. Met again at the Cafe Rotondc.
He was shaved and charming. Raised his cap with a pretty gesture, blushed to
his eyes and asked me to come and see his work. Went. Always a book in hi,
pocket, Lautnamont's Maldoror. Despised everyone but Picasso and Max
Jacob. Loathed Cocteau.
This short memoir was written after their affair was over and had left hel
bitter. Her first impressions , recorded in Tile New Age and which in parts
read like a diary, make no attempt to assess the situation objectively, blll
simply record the elements that struck her the most; in fact, she was very
impressed and far more taken than she is ready to admit: ' He is a very
beautiful persoll to look at when he is shaven, about 28 I should think, always
either laughing or quarrelling ala Rotonde ... he horrifies some English
friends of mine whose flat overlooks his studio by tubbing at two hour
intervals in the garden and occasienaJly lighting all up after midnight
apparently as an aid to sculpturing Babe\.'
Others have recorded his personal fastidiousness and his tendency to
exhibitionism, and Beatrice's last comment reinforces what Epstein says
about how he would illuminate his sculptures (see p. 65). Modigliani was, in
fact, thirty; Beatrice was at least five years older but kept her true age a
secret.
73 Jacques and Bertha Lipchitz, 1917
106
Sill' \\,;1" born in South Africa and at an earl y age married a professional
b" xlT, whom she divorced; she then moved to England and soon became thl"
l' dilDr of Th c NcUl Age w ith A. R. O rage; contributors to the magazim'
illclllded G.B. Shaw, G.K. C hesterton, Hil aire Belloc, Havelock Ellis,
A rll old Bennett; there were so me poems by Ezra Pound (who m she clai med
to have discovered) and articles and reviews by Katherine Mansfield, with
whom, it has been said, Beatrice had an affair.
She had decided to li ve in Pari s, whi ch w hen the war began was all
extremely courageous thing to do: life as she describes it was fu ll of real
hardship and danger from the bombardments. Although she does not say it
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directl y, Modi gliani may have had so mething to do wit h her staying 011
there. The reason she would not ad mit thi s openly in her column or
elsewhere is that up to now in her journalistic writings she had taken a very
strong feminist line, ca mpaigning for abort ion, as she beli eved childbirth as a
social imposition to be degrading, as well as anything that detracted from the
development ofa woman's independence. She amazed Pari sians by smoking
in publi c, wearin g sa ndals, walking hatl ess in smocked Libert y dresses,
decr yin g the hobble and the corset which preven ted women from moving
freely. In later years, she changed her opinions co mpletel y and beca me a
Fascist sympathizer; there was in her - and we can guess this from her
wri tings - a rather desperate, potent iall y fanat ical side, as if through ex treme
self-di scipline and rigid self-denial she co uld annihilate her inner pleas for
emotion and a littl e self- indulgence. This may well account for her
tendency towards alcoholism an d her ulti mate suicide 111 1943: she was found
dead in front of the gas oven wi th her pet white mouse.
She had written an unpubli shed novel in French about her life with
Modigli ani call ed' Minni e Pinnikin' which Max Jacob helped edit, but it has
been lost; the short memoir quoted above might be a summary of it.
They lived fi rst in her flat at 53, rue Montparnas se and then on and offill
her small hOll se at 13, rue des N orvins in Montmartre . He paint ed her so me
14 times; in thi s she is second only to J eanne Hebut erne, hi s last companion
who bore him a daughter, and who was depicted 25 times or so.
What they had in common appears very limit ed: Modigli ani did not
speak much Engli sh (although later in their relati onship he was to affect an
English accent in French) , and her French was initi all y rather limited,
although she did learn fast.
Beatri ce must have been one of the rare women who did not reproach him
for dr inking, indeed they drank together: as she did not like wine, she
introduced him to whisky and gin; she understood that conventional
moralizing was useless in his case, if not har mful. Contemporaries in Paris
remem ber her making grand entrances at La Rotonde, dressed as a
108
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74 Beatrice Hastings (Beatn f\l[ntrex), 19 15
.. he pherdess carrying a bas ket that contained li ve ducks; she was a recognized
"l'Cclltric whose remarks could be as biting as any Montparnasse cafe-hero's.
Modigliani painted her as 'Mada m Pompadour'; at the best of times, 75
Modigliani's spell ing is atrocious, but here he m us t have mean t to use the
I', l1glish spell ing of'Madame' : Beatrice is posing as th e grand courtesan, but
1l 1l' blankness of her stare and the Mardi Gras quality of her plumed hat give
her away.
They also took drugs togeth er ; she has been freq uently re proached for
l'llcouraging Modigli ani in his habits but she knew that she could not stop
Ilim, and respected him for what he was. Besides, the dr ugs may have
109
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77 Francesco Parmigianino.
Madonna and Child with Angels
(Madonna del Collo Lungo),
(. 1535 (detail)
liberated her sexually. Her militant social attitudes, as well as the rathel
fanatical aspects of her nature had caused her to repress her more femininl'
instincts as well as, perhaps, her sexual response to men. Her articles in Th..
New Age became more mellow and distinctly less virulent. Modigliani
showed that he understood her inner conflicts by depicting her as a gentle.
74,78 almost maternal. fully rounded creature, whereas she was rather thin and
flat-chested; he goes so far as to label one drawing 'La Vita Domestica', which
rna y be connected to a n article she had wri tten on the virtues of domesticity.
While he is painting, he is not impatient; he listens to Beatrice' s fragility.
to her fears, co her essential bitchiness, her wholeness as a person, and Ill'
acknowledges these features in his private code: a smile, a twisted grin, a
satisfIed gaze that accepts him, beady eyes that criticize, a craning neck, ;1
7
6 quivering stalk, a solid pillar.
Maybe it is this tacit understanding of her needs that kept her close co him.
She provided a permanent challenge, variety and intellectual stimulus
against a continuous backcloth of material security. And there certainly was
love - if of a wild, often violent and extreme nature - between them.
'Someone has done a lovely drawing of me. I look like the best type of
Virgin Mary, without worldly accessories as it were', Alice Morning reports
in November 1914. On an idealistic level , Modigliani, who knew Dante by
heart, was enchanted by the thought of having a muse named Beatrice,
74
which may be why he frequently depicts her directly or through allusions as
a latter-day Madonna, of the Parmigianino kind. It was natural he should
I, 112
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Hlleatrice Hasti/tgs in all
III",-/ /Oi,., 1915
111"1 CO his native artistic background while alluding co his own culture.
1\1. lllI1erism seemed co be an ideal source for him, conscious or unconscious;
II" earlier sculpture tended, to a certain extent, towards Mannerist 76
7
8
, I, "lgation, and, moreover, Beatrice's physique, long neck and high, small
1 ,' l' .lstS suggested these sources. There are echoes of the Madonna del Coll o 77
I in many of the more serene portraits.
S()metimes, she is anything but 'the best type of Virgin Mary' . Some 79
dl.lwings give the impression that Modigliani pulled her off the bed after
1I ,ILTCOUrSe and told her to hold the pose. She looks like a weary Primaticcio,
1,,'1 tousled hair falls about her, and loosely she holds the sheet. Viol ence
i .l lll Cco characterize most of their encounters, sexual or otherwise, and they
113
Url('11 CllllC to blows. Although Marevna Vorobev recounts the day
M()di:',II:llli literally threw her out of the window, Beatrice was not alway'
Iile ViCIlIll. One night Modigliani rushed to Lipchitz in a state of shock,
: ' , , 1 ' : 1 ' 1 I 1 ~ ' Elk m'a mordu aux couilles' (,She bit me in the balls'). It takes two
I() 1I1:lIlIt:1in a violent situation over a period of years and it is evident thai
iI'l'Y both had a taste for it.
Modigliani's fantasies were built on Lautreamont, whom he loved til
I '.cite in graveyards, but Bea trice thought this writer absolutely perverse,
She ill turn often frightened Modigliani, who would run into La Rotond..
begging people to hide him: 'Cachez-moi, c'est une vache' (,Hide me, she's ,I
bitch'). Beatrice was not the type to go around complaining; it is the tone 01
her articles that indicates that she was steadily getting depressed, although sh..
never allowed herself any self-pity and tried even to be humorous about th..
situation.
A creature said that all he knew about love was from his friends and that hI'
supposed it to be a business of eating from the same plate so as to be clos('
enough to prevent each other from being the first to get it as a weapon. WI'
picked enormous holes in this theory, but he stuck to it , that they do eat oil
the same plate and break it on each other's head afterwards. I never did
anything with a plate exactly, but what is love?
The creature here is certainly Modigliani - he frequently professed such
cynical views - and if Beatrice spared her crockery, anything else would
serve as ammunition.
Early in 1915, Alice Morning said that she was staying indoors ' nursing a
sick wasp and writing a comic romance. The wasp strays in, eats a littk
honey, warms itself, tries to sting and travels to some winter lair. I suspect it i,
more sleepy than sick.' But Modigliani was getting more and more haggard;
he was destroying himself in thi s relationship and needed more drugs til
function. Beatrice, too, was by now little short of an alcoholic. All theil
arguments ended in violent fights, so often that when passers-by hea rd th ..
usual screa ms of'Help, he's killing me' they would shrug their shoulders and
walk away. Several witnesses have described Modigliani becoming vcry
calm after such outbursts, smiling like a child, singing to himself in Italiall
and then systematically peeling the 'wallpaper off Beatrice's walls. 'First Ill'
scratched away the plaster, then he tri ed to pull away the bricks; his fmgcl'
were so bloody and in his eyes there was so much despair ' that I1Y,1
Ehrenburg could not bear to watch and left the party, walking through 'till'
filthy courtyard with fragments of sculpture, broken crockery and empl y
crates' .
Before hi s first serious professional relationship with the deal er Palll
Guillaume, Modigliani had a kind ofarrangement with Paul Cheron, an ex
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h(l o!.. 111;1 kcT t urned art dealer. Legend has it that he locked Modigli ani in 111
n; ll. lr wit h hi s servant girl , a bottl e of brandy and painting materials. 11,,11.
w" ldd hL' n:le8scd when the picture was co mpleted, and Modi gli ani was \,.11,1
iI' "l n' ll Ir.lIlcs fo r his efforts. Fo rtunately, he painted rapidl y. It was not li"l 1\
Iltal , uch J h umili at ing state of affai rs coul d last very long. The fina l stl.l \-
l'.lll lt when, one day, following a Cubis t w him, Modigliani pas ted III
l'inLl n: .1 fragmen t of a popular song; Cheron thought it in bad taste :11 ,, 1
rcpLtccd it by a quo tation from Baudelaire, proba bly claiming to underst:l l,,1
Modlglialli 's inten ti ons, as deal ers and crit ics often do, better th.,"
Modigliall i himself That blew the arrangement sky-hi gh.
Cheron and dea lers like him saw that Modi gli ani was a potenti al mom' I
maker; simpl y fro m the evidence of his paintings, Modi gliani could h;l\'
beco me a successful societ y portraiti st li ke Va n Dongen, fo r ins tance. V.II '
Dongen' s fo rmul a was very simpl e: enormous eyes and j ewels, till l
wai stlines. M odigli ani saw each portrai t as a fresh chall enge: he brought 11111
the most intense and sensual aspects of hi s sitt er 's features with gIT.II
perception and subtl ety; and despite the fre quent element of caricat\ll '
(Modigliani could not help being outspoken) his talent should ha l' .
guaranteed soci al success . His portrait Bakst ofl917 shows thalli,
did already have access to such a milieu. There are some drawings of snl.dl
groups of peopl e like La Fami lle Ferdi nan drawn inside a bourgeois hOlll'
This may ha ve been foll owed up by a painting, now los t. These sketd10
indi ca te that had he so desired, he could have built up a career on these lim".
But he was no t prepared to make any concession for a fmancial success whi , I.
in any case did not interes t him. Even Beatri ce noted his complete lack III
commercial sense: ' the It alian is liable to give you anything you ;11.
interested in. No wonder he is the spoiled chil d of the quarter, en\IJl
so metimes terribl e but always forgiven. Half Paris is in morall y illeg . .1
possession of his designs. "Nothi ng lost" he says and bang goes anothCl
drawing for two pen ce or nothing whil e he dreams off to some. cafe I.,
borr ow a franc for some more paper. ' ( The New Age,Jul y 1914.) N o woncb
he was the despair of any dealer who attempt ed to work with him.
Moreover, recogniti on from peopl e he did no t respect was insufficient: 110
wanted it to come from the art elit e, the critics, the art ists, perhaps the good
dealers. However he was dogged by bad luck and never received the full
recogniti on he craved. By 1914/ 15 most of the artists in hi s entourage had
found competent deal ers or were selling fairly well themselves: the
yea rs were over, even though their relationships with thei r dealers who
generally had control over their enti re producti on were not necessaril y easy.
Modigli ani was initiall y enthusiastic abo ut the dealer Guillaume.
80 inscri bing hi s fmt portrait of him 'Novo Pilo ta ' and 'Stella Maris' - guiding
11 6
" 1',111/ Guiilawl1e (Nova
1'11",.1). ! 9! 5
I II of the sea. Guill aume dealt in African art , which may have gi ven
83
It .digli ani a measure of confidence in him. He hired a studio for him in the
II I ll' :IL1-Lavoir, thinki ng tha t he was better on hi s own than with Beatrice
with whom he was then li ving. Guillaume was very interes ted in money: he
I that Modigliani's paintings were more commercial. ' There' s nothing
I 11 1\ ,h in It and that' s a great pit y because the young man has a real gift. ' By
I l' ll<.: h, he meant Cubist , as he moaned to Zborowski who was later to take
'1\ ' Modigliani.
Mtl di gliani 's di strust of Guill aume's mo ti va ti ons comes through in the
\, .11 1r:l its Modi gliani painted of him in 1915 and 1916. Even in the apparently
80
11)11 i1l1 isti c ' N ovo Pil ota' , th e wispy moustache above the thin parted lips, the
i II I1 ,y ha t neatly perched on his hea d, the feminine way of holding his arm
11 7
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clos(' It) IllS body, waving a finger as he holds a cigarette - all this reveals till
P( "(,'111'.
A ),,'.11' bter, in 1916, he painted him in similar attire: the colours, ruSb.
hl:lcks and browns are much the same but the sitter is more relaxed
l\I1odl!;!Jani has painted one eye white - the same colour as his shirt, and thl'
other is a spiky green hedgehog, always a coded sign of disapproval: hI
paimed Beatrice with the same feature at least once, expressing a particularly
s[Qrmy phase in their love-hate relationship. An important collec[Qr of till'
time, Andre Level , noted the asking prices for Modigliani's works. Early ill
the war, Guillaume, from whom he had purchased some African masks.
sold him some pictures by Modigliani: 'Heads of Women' for 25 and 3
11
francs each, a large portrait of Beatrice Hastings for 60 francs, an early
Modigliani ' which must have been painted a long time ago in Italy' for 51<
francs. Guillaume had obviously not bothered to get any details down with
any precision.
On another occasion, Level was drinking at the Dome with Picasso.
Apollinaire and Leonce Rosenberg. Modigliani joined them and PicassI<
decided to take them all back to Modigliani's studio, saying that he ' sculpted
stone heads and painted portraits of women and friends'. That Picasso
discerned Modigliani's talents early on has hitherto been ignored, though i(
is well known that Modigliani respected him. 'He is always ten years ahead \II
us' Modigliani would say. An introduction to Rosenberg, one of the bes(
dealers in town, was very valuable - especially now that Kahnweiler, who
had been Picasso's dealer, being a German, had had to return to his OWIl
country because of the war. Level noticed that Picasso, with the commercial
sense Modigliani lacked, acted as intermediary, asking Modigliani for prices,
probably discussing them with him before telling the others. Unfortunately
Level only noted down one price, that of a caryatid watercolour at 25 francs .
When he was on his own. Modigliani asked 5 francs for his portrait drawings.
and was furious if anyone gave him more and he told Lipchitz that hl'
charged 'Ten francs and a little alcohol for each sitting.'
Prices of paintings varied enormously for everyone. Jacob noted that al
the beginning of the war, they actually went down. Wives of artists at thl'
Front attempted to keep their families by selling their husbands' work. Thl'
buyers decided the prices, not the sellers. Many peopl e cashed in on tllI'
situation, tourists from all over the world, would-be artists, all drawn to
Montparnasse by its myth. A more sinister aspect of this situation is thaI
police officers used their power to extract paintings from artists at minimal
prices or in lieu of payment of a fme: it was easy, all they had to do was to
threaten them with expulsion, most of them being foreigners. Thus the
policeman Descaves bought lots of ten paintings at 100 francs; his colleague
.,
II
A NDRE HENRI MATISSE,
CEZANNE, MODIGLIANI,
C HIRICO
Sculptures Negres
GALERIE PAUL GUILLAUME, 16, avenue de Villiers, Paris
---@---
Un ounage "Le Premier Albtlm de Sculpture, l\'eglt," a paru con! il res!e epeare
quelques exemplaires au prix de 50 francs. Tirage 60 ex. (Chez Paul GUili:.uIllC I
83 Advertisement for an exhibition and book of African sculpture, 1917
1 .1lnaron, who when off duty was to be found at La Rotonde, accumulated
lilerally hundreds of works by Modigliani, Soutine, Utrillo, Chagall and
J' sugouhara Foujita. He in fact was a sympathetic officer who got Utrillo and
Modigliani out of trouble more than once. But such policemen were rare.
Alld there were shady dealers who exploited the situation, like Basler (the
writer on art) who had one price, 15 francs - take it or leave it - for Utrillo,
Modigliani and Kisling. In fact, the established dealers - Kahnweil er,
I(osenberg, Vollard, Durand-Ruel- ultimately performed a great service to
Illodern art by imposing respect through high prices. An artist on his own
, (ood no chance.
It is difficult to see how the above sums relate to today's prices without
(' xamining those of other commodities. Food prices rose phenomenally
(luring the First World War and especially in Paris where they could be three
limes as high as, say, in the South of France because of the difficulties of
II ansporting foodstuffs through the war-ridden provinces. Rationing and
.I('ute shortages of sugar, salt and milk were frequent. In 1917, the
I Ilcapest cheese (Cantal) cost about 4 francs a kilo, a chicken cost about 10
Ir:mcs, and potatoes, on which most people survived throughout the war,
we re 20 centimes a kilo. In canteens and restaurants it was still possible to eat
(ilea ply but reasonably at about 3 francs; Rosalie maintained that you should
Il e ver spend more than 5 francs for any meal at a restaurant, at least not in
[IITS. In a letter dated September 1914, Jacob claims triumphantly to have
ItlLlIld a restaurant where the veal was 22 sous (that is 1 franc, 10 centimes),
!>llt prices rose very rapidly all through the war, and life appears to have been
121
120
.. J .... ~
84 Cha;;'11 SOll till e, 1917
, Cha ;in SOlltine , 19 15
much more expensive than it is now. Beatrice paid 65 fr ancs a month for ;I
t\'1'o-room Aat w ith running water in Montparnasse; but she said she w a ~
exceptionall y lucky as the area had now become fashionable, and ISO francs a
month would have been normal.
In the portraits of these years, Modigliani is attentive to the physical
81, 85 characteristics and idiosyncrasies of hi s sitters as well as to the reality of the
situati on that links painter and sitter at th e moment at which he is pa inting.
Everything else - the drinking, the self-hate, the daily ni ghtmare - that
concerns him personally is locked out of the image. That is why the
atmosphere of the paintings appears to be so opposed to what seems most
obvious in his personalit y. This is the essent ial di fference between his work
and that ofhis great friend Soutine, whose canvases exclude anything that is
134 not directly connected to the expression of his hallucina tory angui sh.
122
Modigli ani often made real efforts for his male friends (which he certainly
would no t have considered making fo r the women in his life). Slowly and
1' ,ltientl y, he taught Soutine to hold a knife and fork, how to blow his nose
Wi th a handkerchief instead of his fingers. Once, both arti sts were invited to a
dllmer-part y and Soutine sneezed; fra nticall y, he searched his pockets for a
11 ,lI1d kerchi ef and f11lding nothing, he turned his huge, des perate eyes to his
II'il'nd; Modigli ani, unperturbed, calmly continued hi s conversation with his
1!lIst whil e he unknotted his cravat and passed it di screetl y to Soutine under
lile table. One could not imagine tWO more different people: Modigliani,
Illghly literate, urbane, sophi sticated, always conscious of personal hygiene,
wl'a ring his faded velvet suit with incomparable style and studi ed neglect;
,H Id Soutine, barely arti cul ate, covered wi th vermin, pathologicall y afraid of
was hing, forever obsessed by the violence of the ghetto and the starva tion he
h.ld known in Russia, and t{) whom Mediterranean logic was totally ali en.
1 2 3
SOlltil1l' said later that it was Modi gliani who gave him self-confldencc.
Certailll y there is not a hint of condescension in Modigliani's portraits 01
84, 85 Soutill C, whom he respected as an artist; indeed in them he restores his
di glli lY,IS a human being. Soutine worshipped Modigliani and was givell
[0 weari nghi scast-offshirts; then hesaid hefelt muchmoreconfident,as he
thought he had act uall y become Modi gli ani.
l3 0t h Modigliani 's and Beatri ce's li ves were continually traversed by
homosexuals.Jacob,the poetmyst icandetheromaniacwas close to both01
them;theybothknewCocteauandhi syoungprotegeRadiguet,withwhom
Beatri ce later had an affair ; and there was Brancusi whose allegiance has
neverbeencompl etelyspecifi ed- hi scompanywas largel yhomosexualand
alsoincludedthepoetsjustmentio ned. AtdifferenttimesinModigliani'slife,
such as in 19IO (the year hespentwith Brancusi)andin I 9I 6 (after Beatri ce
111 left him), thereareseri esofdrawings of young men, buoyantand muscular,
radia ting self-confidence: many appear to be dancers. There is a pi cture
82 entitl edL' A rlequin, whi chhassometimes beencataloguedasaself-portrait. It
is acuriouslyandrogynous fi gurein deli catescumbl edroseandgreysthathas
the del icacy and pathos of Pi casso' s pink peri od, but al so a haunted
introverted feeli ng. In this connection, it is worth remembering that
33,3
6
Modigli ani ' sstone heads often appear to be neither male nor female.
Ifthere were nothi ng else, it would be easy, and painfull y obvious to
concl ude thatModi glianiwas homosexual. Hehadbeenthedarlingchildot
anessentially femalehousehold, andit had beenhi smotherwho introduced
him to Wilde's writings in the days when he idoli zed his fri end Osca r
Ghiglia. Notaboosin this family exceptfailure. ButIthinkthat thefantasy
remained an aesthetic, often narcissistic one whi ch he accepted artisti call y,
butwhichintherealityofeverydaylifeherej ected: itwasacceptabl etopail1l
81 Celso Lagar or Gris as effeminate creatures, but th at iswhere he stopped.
Astrologers would ascribe his extreme sensitivity to hi s nati ve sun- sign
Cancer, the feminine signpar excellence.
Maybe Beatrice understood this, but she could not put up with
unsophisticatedpeoplelikeSoutineandUtrilloaswell, andaboveall shewas
by now completely wornout by the relationshipand left him.
Jugement de f emmes: Aux enfers, Dante et Virgile inspectaient un bar il toul
neuf. Dante tournait autour. Virgile medit ait. Or ce n'etait qu' un baril de
harengssaurs.Evetouj oursbell ehabiteenceslieux, courbee parle desespoir
bien qu'elleaitasa nudite Ia consolati on d'un nimbe. Eve se pi nyan t Ie nez
declare ' Ohmaiscela sent mauvai s' etell es' eloigna.
(The judgment of women: Dante and Vi rgil were examini ng a new barrel in
hell. Dante was going round and round it. Virgil was medit ating. But the
124
rruth was that itwas onl y a barrelfull ofherrings pi ckl ed in brine. Eve, still
heautiful , lives in these regions, bent doubl e by despair even though her
Il akedness isconsoled by a halo. Eve held her nose and declared 'Oh butit
,tinks' and walked off.)
(MaxJ acob, Le Cornet Ii des.)
)) ant e may well be Modi gli ani , Eve Beatri ce and the pi ckl ed herrings the
~ u s s i a n colony, perhapseven Soutine (in fac t the Slavsin Pariswere often
rderred to as 'herrings', as thi s was one oftheir nati onaldeli cacies). Virgil
mus tthenbeJacob.Le Cornel ades, fr om whi chthisis anextract,isaseriesof
prose poems, writt en largely when J acob, Beatri ce and Modigliani were
virtualneighboursin Montmart re and saw each other daily.
Jacobwasborn in Quimperin Britt any in I 876; hewasthe magician and
phil osopher ofthe Butte. He also qualified as a cabbalist, a palmist, an
:lstrologer, an ant iquarian,a man ofl etters anda painter. Hehadhadevery
kind of empl oy ment from shop-fl oor sweeper to art critic. Picasso, with
who m he had shared a room when he arrived in Paris, encouraged him to
write and illustrated hi s fi rst published book Saint-Matorel. His style is a
mixtureof improvisati on,subtl ewit and linguisticrefll1ement thatparallels
Satie's approach in music. Both he and Modigliani were experts at
declaiming verse and making speeches, but people preferredJacob, as he
Il ever caused a fuss or took hi s cl othes offin public as did Modigliani. A
i'r iend 's remark aboutJacob also appli es to Modigliani: 'How many times
IIJ ve Iseen Max pl ay the fool with the haggardlook ofadesperate man .'
Modi gli ani painted him twice and drew him many times. He appears 86,92
,' it her as the 'g rand mondain, wordl y- wise, refll1ed in top hat and cape lined
with red sa tin, or as a qui et, geni al mystic - always elegant (even if
.ksperately poor), aq ualit y appreciated by Modi gliani .Jacob had onesetof
,'vl' ning cl othes healwayswore when he wentout, even to the most casual
i'uncti onsandatLaRotonde. Whenhecamehome, evenintheco mpanyof
l'r iends, hewo uldremovehiselegantapparel ,fold itneatl yawayinhistrunk
.Iud slip into old shabby cl othes.
Modi gliani andJacob would meet in Montmartre and later on, in war-
, I ri cken days, in Montparnasse cafes ftlled with foreignersand Frenchmen
discharged from military ser vice,whileever ybody el se wasat the Front .
The sudden onset of the First World War unleashed xenophobia. All
loreigners were immediatel y suspect and had to register with the poli ce.
Ant i-Semiti sm once more became rampant . Modi gli ani instantl y retorted
I,y approaching strangers at cafes with his sky-blue portfolio full of
, lrJwings, summarily introducing himsel f as ' Modi gli ani, jui f, cinq francs'
('Modigliani,Jew, five francs' ). Shopkeeperswith fo reign- sounding names
(Ashkenazi names are often German) had to pl ace la rge pl acards in their
12 5
wi I H.it )\\'\ lt l that they were French, otherwise vandals woul d attack their
(;cnn:m artis ts di sa ppeared from their headquarters, the Dome (a
grou p (, ( thcm had exhibited before the war in Dusseldorfunder the name of
I)t11lIi ns'). Beatrice says that befor e the war Montparnasse was full of
;t:r JILIII Sand that du ring the war they ,vere replaced by Poles,
i< isling, thcn Zadkine, enli sted for the Foreign Legion and soon r ealized
Ll l. tl tliticl'[s tr ea ted all the soldiers in that regiment parti cularly badly
IWl'ause they were foreigners and the refore had no right, it would seem, to
protest. ' Artists who had been called up were made to camouflage lorries. It
turned out that for the purpose of camouflage, it is necessa ry to break up the
basic forms, and the streets were full of lorries looki ng like cubist canvases.'
Like Ehrenburg who here des cribes wartime Monrparnasse, Modiglialli
volunteered, in a fIt of unprecedented patriotic fervo ur; he was instantly
turned down (so was Ehrenburg, to hi s relief) ; but Modigliani was genuinely
disappointed and drowned his despair for a couple of days in whisky and
brandy, absinthe having been outl awed. Picasso refused to be drawn into any
kind of nati onalist partisanship and would staunchly remain seated whil e tht'
'Marseillaise' played on, Jacob's correspondence, Ali ce Morning' s column
and Modigliani 's daily drawings document different aspects of the war.
From them, we can see w ho was sti ll there: Pi casso, Gris, Archipenko,
Foujita, Soutine, Kremegne, Rivera, Kikoi ne, Lipchitz, Ortiz de Zarate,
Brancusi. In 1915, there was a new influx of Russians: Natali a Goncharova,
Mikhail Lari onov, Ehrenburg, Voloshin, and La Rotonde was the ftrst port
of call for artis ts and poets on leave, such as Apollinaire, Cendrars, Fernand
Leger, Braque. There were grand banq uets given in their name in arti sts'
canteens run by charitable souls like Mari e Wassilieff; on other days, meals at
cost price were provided. The need for such pla ces was real , as fma nces and
morale were at a low ebb. Modigli ani's all owance from hi s fami ly in Italy
was stopped. Soon cafes were closed at 8 p.m., restaurants at 9. 30; there wert'
black-outs, news papers suspended publicati on for a while, and only one-
page handouts on the situation at the Front were avai lable, and whell
publication returned, censorship (nicknamed ' An astasie' ) was such as to
make the pa pers useless. And when the bombardments began and people had
to hide in the Metro, real despair set in. 'Now the sky is all aeroplanes with
their sound of tearing out your bowels, Horrible machines, the ideal of
mechanical effi ciency perfected in blood and dest ined to serve ma n for the
sinister destruction of himself and his works' (The New Age, June 1915).
Jacob no ted that orgies wen t on everywhere, even in the artists' canteens:
he could well understand his friends' des perate mood but this behaviour
depressed him. An end-of-the-world atmosphere was reflected in popul ar
songs as well:
126
,\I'1X J acob, 19 I 6
La vie esl belle
On n' enfiche pas tl/1 COttp
Sur loute I' echelle
Tout Ie monde s'enjoul.
(Life is great, no one in the whole world gives a damn, no one could carl'
less. )
Even Modigliani did not shock people any more. Like everyone, he went to
Mari e Wassilieff's fancy-dress parties, but he never would dress up specially.
'After a time, Modigliani decided to undress. He wore a long red scarf round
his waist like the French workmen. Everyone knew for certain when he was
going to undress, as he usually attempted to after a certain hour. We seized
him and tied up the red scarf and sat him down. Everyone danced and sang
and enjoyed themselves till the morning.' Nina Hamnett was the life and
soul of such parties as she enjoyed dancing naked; her memoirs (Laughill,!!
Torso) provide an interesting insight on the whole period.
And there were also secret clubs like lVIon Oeil (French slang for 'Who' rl'
you kidding;>') in the rue Huyghens, which was a black market centre where
people could drink illegally and dance all night. This was the fmt aspect
of wartime Paris Modigliani painted and drew: the women in fancy-dress,
the garish entertainers, the Rive Droite socialites who sought to relieve the
monotony of their day-to-day existence in cosmopolitan Montparnasse -
the only place in the country where the last young men were to be met, all
87 the rest of French youth being at the Front. The Bride and Croom may haw
been painted at some late-night haunt. As in the drawings of the same kind,
the woman sits and the man stands, like in the photographs of the day. They
are both in evening dress and their ruddy faces are modelled by strong white
light; they stare stiffly, blankly, maybe drunk beyond recognition; and
Modigliani has given them both preposterous noses: the man's appears to be
viewed from both sides, and his face looks as if it had been cut in two and
stuck together a little hastily. This is hardly a Cubist attempt, but rather a
subtle and sardonic view of the revellers.
The other aspect of the period Modigliani brings out is the mystic mood
of the time, by which he is affected. The First World War was a great period
for mystical escapism of all kinds: La Rotonde was full of Russians who told
fortunes, necromancers, palmists, theosophists and spiritualists. Modigliani
was as affected by the atmosphere in Paris as by the events going on outside
on the battlefield. Ehrenburg remembers how 'he sat on the stairs, sometimes
declaiming Dante, sometimes talking of the slaughterhouse, of the end of
civilization, of poetry, of anything except painting'. He was forever quoting
Nostradamus, and some drawings are inscribed with his predictions.
128
H7 rhe Bride and Groom, I9I 5
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88 Monk (L'Estatico), IC)ICi
3C) Crucifixioll (Christo.'), I C) I Ci
Legend has it that a revolution was being discussed by Russians in the back
room of La Rotonde. Trotsky was a regular and had long discussions "vith
Rivera and also with Via minck, whom he admired but whose absence 01
social comment in his work he deplored. It has been said that Lenin also
frequented this haunt and once sought work as an artist's model but was
turned down as he was too short. Ehrenburg says that Modigliani's brother
Emanuele, the militant socialist, came to Paris in the early days of the war
and met Martov and Lapinski. He was extremely upset at the state in which
he found his brother 'and put it down to bad companions and the Rotonde in
general'. 'When the first news of the revolution in Russia arrived, Modi
came running to me, em braced me and began screeching enthusiastically.
Sometimes I could not understand what he was saying.' One result of the
revolution was that La Eotonde became suspect to the authorities and was
made out of bounds to soldiers.
13 0
I'IILTe is a mysterious series of drawings of penitents and crucifixions of
II" (, for which no paintings survIve; probably none were painted. They arc
, "I,ltypical of Modigliani's legend and rruvrc that critics have ignored them
" ' '" pletdy and in sale-rooms they go for far smaller sums than any other of
I"" ,,'orks. Most of them show naked figures of men and women kneeling
" " I praymg - one of them is of a monk labelled 'l'estatico'; the reference
'" ,\ be to seventeenth-century Lombard depictions of saints in mystic
1" llIl C: S, generally referred to as 'Ecstasies', In fact, the emotionally charged 88
,,,"() sphere seems rdated to that particular school of painting with which
(\ \, ,,hgliani was familiar. On them arc inscriptions in Latin: 'Dies Irae' (,Day 9
0
, >I Wrath'), 'Dies Resurectionis' (,Day of Resurrection'), 'Purgatorius
I\ lIlInae' (,Purgatory of Souls'); also 'I Santi' (,The Saints') and 'ou es tu)'
, whLTe are you?'). The stylistic references are less important than the
,"i,si cicrations behind these unusual drawings. They may have been a mystic
II ,Inion to the slaughter going on at the Front and a way of expressing a deep
'I" ll:alyptic feeling. But after all, Modigliani was Jewish, although more or
.p 1" \;.1 r.. ..-.:.
r: L 1.- J."
I
- f
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C)O Kneeling Woman (Dies
irae, Dies JIIae), IC)I8
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)
less an atheist, and these Last Judgment images were quite alien to hi"
background.
JJCob may well be the key to thi s mystery. Like Modigliani he was Jewish,
but converted to Christianity after having had a vision of Christ in his rOOl1l
ill rhe rue Ravi gnan in 1909; when he was fmally christened in 1915, Picass(l
agreed to be his godfather. Most of his friends doubted the sincerity of
conversion, as he would indulge in alternate extremes of debauchery and
sanctity, indul ging in one to rc:pent in the other. And yet , his works becal11l'
increasingly mystical in tone. In 1921 , he moved away from Pari s to thl'
vicinit y of the ancient monastery of Saint-Benoit-sur-Loire, and the
importance of his ;;" ritings was recognized. During the Second World War,
Paul Eluard, in volved in the Resistance, was to come especiall y to tell him
how much the young poets of his generation owed to his genius. Despit('
Jacob's conversion to Catholicism, the Nazis made him wear the yellow star,
like all Jews: they arrested him in 1944, and he died on his way to the gas
chambers in the French transit camp ofDrancy.
There are tvvo drawings of the crucified Christ with forked arms,
89 according to an ancient tradition, and they are ins cribed in Greek 'Christ';
this Christ is scrawny and under-nourished, he does not hail from Nazareth
but from the artists' ghetto in Montparnasse. Did Modigliani, like Jacob, go
through a major reli gious crisis?
Around 191 6, Jacob dedicated a little-known poem to Modigliani that
91 mi ght provide the clue: 'A M. Modigliani pour lui prouver que je suis un
poete' ('To Monsieur Modigliani to prove to him that I a'm a poet' ). It is a
complex poem in whi ch he describes in a seemingly light-hearted way his
conversion and what God meant to him, 'instead of meeting a woman, one
da y I encountered God ... he is all calm and gaiety, he has given me security'
and that his mission is now to be his secretary. If Jacob dedicated a poem about
conversion to Modi gliani , thi s at least indi cates serious discussions on the
subject, although rel igious fe rvour of any kind could never profoundl y
affect Modigliani .
In 1919,Jacob publ ished La Difense de TartuJe, subtitled Extases, remords,
lI isions, prieres, poemes el meditations d'un Juif convert i (, Ecstasies, remorse,
visions , prayers, poems and meditations of a convert ed Jew'); the title is
based on Le TartuJe, Moliere's play about a hypocrite, but it was originally
entitled Le Christ a Montparnasse. This book is about the difficulties he
encounters, the extremes of temptation and repentance he suffers, as a
converted Jew, in hi s search for Christ. The central themes running through
the book are also found in his earlier works linked to his conversion, and
there are signs that he was working on TartuJe as early as 1916.
The subj ect-matter of Modigliani's religious drawings is remarkabl y closc
132
A M. Modigliani pour lui prouver que
je suis un poete.
L
E nuage eslla posle enlre les conlinenls
. Syl/abaire d 'e.t:iI el que Ie., OCeaIlS,
Condamnt!s par l'Enfer a se ballre en pleuranl
N'epelerolll pas "ur Ie vernis de I'espace,
Le noir sommel des monls s'endorl sur les lerrasses
Sit/ons creuses par Dieu pour caeller les humains
Sans lire Ie secrel du nuage qui passe
Lui ne sail pas nOli plu., ce que porlenl ses mains
Mais parfois lorsque son enncmi Ie venl Ie cnasse
/I se lourllc, mgit et lall ce 1/11 pied d'airain.
J'elais, enfanl, doue, Milte reflets du ciel
Promcnaienl, ,; veil/ e, Ie. charmc.' de mes songes,
EI venaienl ec/ipser l'elelldard du reel.
Au milieu des amis, enseiglles par les anges
J'ignorais qui j'elais el j'ecrivois un peu.
A u lieu de femm e un jour j'avais renconlre Dieu
Compagnon qui brode man eire
Sails que ,ie pui,se Ie connailre.
II esl Ie calme ella gaile
II donne 10 securi/{!
EI pour celebrer .,es mysteres
Il m'a !)on secreiaire
Or pendanl les nuil s je dechiflre
Un papier qu'it chargea de chinres
Que de so main mi me it ecril
EI deposa dans man espril
Dans I'aquarium des airs vivenl les demons
Qui fonl ccrouler Ie nuage pour lui voler noire secrel.
9
1
Poem by Max Jacob from Le Laboratoire cell tral, 19
21
III Jacob's themes, and the feelings of despair , guilt and humility that run
ilHough TartuJe (despite the fr equent humour) seem to be echoed by
Modigliani in these drawi ngs.
It is not impossibl e that while working out the preliminari es for Tartufe in
I '}16,Jacob could have asked Modi gliani - whom he was seeing daily - to do
.\ series of illustrations for it . In thi s close-knit circle- Pi casso had engraved the
ti- onti spiece of his Saint-Malorel in 1909, and Kahnweiler had been his
publisher - such a suggestion would not have been unrealisti c.
Jacob was one of the few people (according to Beatrice, only Pi casso and
hersel f were the others) who understood the contradictions that raged in
133
Modi g li:llli Jild saw right through the desperate image of the swaggl'l
l.l u llt'llli.IIL This is why he could ask him, in all seri ousness, to do
(or him. Hi s poem to Modigliani would therefore fall into pl ace,
wO\l ld rile repeated holy and Biblical allusions colltained in Modigliani\
dU lV illgs of Bl'atrice: he portrays her as the V irgin Mar y, as Santa
S II' III' (:!trll'i taiJ/e - but a certain clement of irony is not excluded. There ar\'
.ds() mystical inscriptiol1S o n drawings that refer to the cabbala and to
Nostradamus all d contain strange aphori sms. But as these arc too scattered
alld thei r sources varied and uncoordinated, we are no t able to dedu ce any
personal creed. Although he wo uld have di sc ussed these ideas w ith J acob.
Modigliani, fasci nated as he was by any form of int ellectual speculati on,
hardly likely to ha ve follo'vved a consistent philosophy.
Thi s seri es ofdrawings was never taken furth er; we do not know who lost
pati ence first. Modigli ani cert ainly did not possess the long-ter m convicti oll
necessary for the elaboration of such an intricate project, and maybe J acoh
had other ideas in min d when he finally dedicated the work to Gris.
\
\
')2 Max J acob, 1')15
134
CHAPTER Flvl;
Nudes
1' .li nting nu des is a separate exercise from painting portraits. Modigli ani 's
I" ,rtr ait s usually show frag men ts of the body put together in the manner
1II Ilst likely to express the individuality of the si tter: his or her mind is
.. vmboli cally represented thr ough specific emphasis on carefull y selected
".I ns, usually the face, especially the eyes, and the hands; the way the sitters
IlIl ld their heads, sit upright or slouch are also made relevant to our
of their personaliti es. [ n the previous chapter we saw how
Modi gli ani evolved a voca bul ary offacial fo rm, a set of symbolic si gns that
"voke not only the character of the si tters but also th e nature of their
I,'Llti onships with the painter. He painted hi s emot ional reaction, so we
kll ow immedi ately th at deep down he despised Guillaume, respected Jacob 80,86
.llld was to venerat e Lun ia Czechowska. Modigliani aimed in port rait ure to 138
I,l'(:p close to his OWll opini on of the sitter- thi s corresponded in life wi th his
Icfusal to compromi se or conform. He never all owed anyone to svnmp him
\ \lmplet ely, w hi ch is w h y even his portraits of attractive women are chaste
(,tlthough never coy like those by M ar ie Lauren cin). The wom en depicted
withhold their provoca ti veness, even though it is still there, just beneath the
\ llrfa ce; his is an emoti onal, not an epider mi c res ponse.
'When I have a sitt er ... I seek out those features in hi s (or her) face that
hr ing o ut best the quali t y of intense seriousness inherent in every human
11I.' ing.' Modi gli ani w ould ha ve agreed with thi s, Mati sse's famous statement
" f 1908 in La Grallde Revue, though M odigli ani is often the better
psychologist because, very simply, he is more int erested in human
Ilt:rsonalitics than M atisse ever was.
Nudes were quite differen t: they were not and could not be portraits in the
way Modigliani understood portraiture,
He never painted his friends nude, least of all the wo men w ith whom he
h;ld a sustained relationship: Beatri ce, Jeanne (whom he met in 19[7) and
1,L1n ia Czechowska (who may never have been his lover). These relationships
were complica ted, even t ortuous, and the difficulti es were reflected in
till' portraits, so it is perhaps out of sheer honesty that he was incapable of
dl'picting Beatrice or J eanne in a st ate of glori ous sa ti sfied nudi ty. He did
however once draw Be;ttri ce nude, bedraggled and weary.
13 5
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93 Rcciil1illg Nude (Aill1ai'sa), (preparatory drawing for ill. 94), 1916
Before he embarked seriously on sculpture, Modi gli ani repea tedly
drew from the nude to learn from it and simpl y because he enjoyed the shape
of the female form - hence the extreme sensuality of the caryatids. Between
1914 and 1916 hi s studies of nudes were preliminaries for paintings, and, even
93, 94 when drawing and painting present formal similarities, their effect is not the
same. In the draw ings, the line is harmonious and controll ed, and there is a
classical quality in Modi gli ani's approach to form. In the paintings, the
brushwork has a vibrant, highly animated life of its own, contained by calm
rhythmic linear patterns. T he surface is highly worked and is covered in
variations, sometimes minut e, in intensity and direction of brush-strokes,
and the subtle colour transiti ons are often visible only at close quarters. In this
contrast betvveen drawing and painting, Modigliani's work differs from
Picasso's at this time. Picasso's overall st yle was then essentiall y linear , and
96 the harmony of his painted works deri ves from its graphi c unity. In concept,
Modigliani's painted nudes may perhaps best be co mpared to Mati sse's
sculpture, w here the harmonious forms are complemented by the al most
aggressive treatment of the texture.
136
'I ., R ecli11i11g Nude 1916
An interesting cha racteristic of the nudes is the fact that they were
;',cne[ally done in series , that is often painted consecuti vely, indi cating their
IlllpO[tance as an exclusive activity. With one exception, of 1917, now at the
(:ourtauld Institute Ga ll eries, there are no isolated paintings of nudes
Illlcrspersed among the portraits.
When his studi es were preliminaries for paint ings, his method was to
work round the model, experimenting in each study with a different pose
.Illd angle. This was quite different from hi s method in the portraits, where
I he pose was fixed ri ght from the start.
Afte[ hi s 1916 seri es, there are no surviving drawings of nudes directly
lill ked with paintings. T he life sketches ofl917 show standing and crouching 95,97
li gures in whi ch Modigli ani experiments with the changing appearance of
I he female figure as it moves slow ly across space, adjusting its positi on by
''''g[ ees, as ifdirected by a cho reogra pher. The drawings are, therefore, quite
luturall y produced in series. M odigliani could paint only in private, painting
Iil' ing an exclusive, concentrated acti vity, whereas he frequentl y went to draw
.It life classes with other arti sts and students.
137

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95 L!fe SIt/dy, c. 1917
96 Pablo Picasso, Sludy for
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Unlike a portrai t, where in general someone has come to the anist of his
, 11()ice for a specifi c service, for a nude, Modigliani could choose [he kind of
111()del he wamed and the way in which he was going to position her. Early
" II in his career, he had paimed Dr Alexandre's patients, young prostitutes
wlio sought cures for venert:al di seases. He did not like professional models,
II! Ir could he afford them: later he used them only ifhis dealer Zborowski paid
llieir fee offive francs a session. He preferred girls who came from outside his
world, who could accept him a[ face value, without questions or criticism:
liollsemaids, waitresses, milkmaids, whose opulent health contrasted with his
Ilwn. It was as if his youthfuljin-de-siecle flirtation with morbidity and death
, ,'ased when he himselfrealized he was dying; and he turned to an invocation
Il l" vi[ali[y and life.
We do not know for certain [he names ofhis models; legends about Elvire,
.lhom Gaby, crop up by [he score in the hagiography, and i[ is generally
.lssumed that they were Modigliani's lovers as well; this is likely, [0 judge
139
98 Theda Bara in 19 17

..
99 Mary Pi ckford, c. 191 8
100 Tirian, VCI/ US IVilh the Organ-playcr, c. 1548 (derai l)
1" 1 R.eclining Nudc, 1917
I " 1m the sexually char ged atmosphere of the painti ngs, but should not be
I' ll' sumed. Although these nudes could , in their sa tisfied poses, be seen as a
to his amatory skill s (which were said to be considerabl e) and also to
!I ,l' ephemeral glory of these transient but fulfill ed encounters, they represent
,j l()VC all an ideal, and j ust as one does not need a virgin to paint th e
M.1donna, an enco unter with a woman limited to a successful painting
, ,',sion could have been suffi cient consummati on.
His models are of twO ki nds: powerful archety pes , full-br easted with wide
hipS, usuall y dark and Mediterranean; and, far more rarely, hi gh-breasted
\\ omen, childlike and demure: Modigli ani evidentl y chose these t ypes
I "'C3use he thought them beautiful, yet they corr espond ver y much to
Iwriod stereoty pes, eagerl y ado pted by earl y cinema. Ho ll ywood simul-
I.Illcously launched Theda Bara (' The Vamp' ) and Mary Pi ckfo rd (' Ameri ca's 9
8
, 99
"' wcetheart '), These t ypes derive from a long traditi on whi ch o pposes the
I \\'0 male ideals of love, what Pl ato's later criti cs call ed Venus nat uralis
(1lJtural Venus, earth) and Venus coelestis (cel esti al Venus, heaven),
Modi gli ani now turned to Veneti an and Fl orenti ne art of th e Renaissa nce,
which has been described in terms of thi s oppositi on, But neither Botticelli ,
I hc champi on of Venus coe/estis, nor for that matt er Parmigiani no, could help 77
141
'-..
I"I {(eclilling Nude, 191 7
Modigliani convey exactl y whathe was trying to express (except for a few
I "bted cases, as we shall s e e ~ it was to Giorgione, and Titian especially,
" .. I ll championsofVenus natura lis, th athe turned.
The Veneti an school glorifIed the self-confIdent sensuo us nude,
1I"' I'lcndent with a vit ality new to the development ofItalian painting.
i'li .lll, thegreat masterofrecl1mbemfemininity, paiIHed countless Venuses
,li d Danaes, lying on their side, their sex fr ontal, in anticipati on ofthe
ii ,li ghtsimminentlyarriving fromjustoutsidethepi cturespace.Modi gliani
"Ioptsthepose,but,unlikeTiti an, makes thesetting verystark:thesimplest
I i IIlicationof abedorasofa ,orin somecasesjustplanesofcolour, in which
iiII' model's stabilit y is ensured by her own gravit y. The pull is always
.lllwnwards, even when she is recl ining. When she is not parallel to the
1" 1lure plane, the legs and elbows always point earthwards - basi c
' I .l,s urance, Venus naturali.' . The sensuo us line leads the spectator's eye
,llIwly round the woman, and the rhythm of the brushwork ga thers
"",mentum in the area surrounding the pelvis. All the nudes prcscll[ thcse
Il.,tures,withslight variations, and they are all characterized by J harmony
IO,dy rarel yfoundintheportrai ts.Theemphasisintheportraitsonthceyesand
100
J 01
143
,II..! Scated Nude, 1917
themouthhasnowbeenshiftedtothesexualparts,fromargumentanddeb:!"
towordlesscommunication; themodelloseshermysteryas anindividual",
[WCOIllCaneternallyfamiliarfemalewhopresentsfatmoresimilaritiesto,thall
eliIlCn:llces from, other members ofhersex.
Modiglianisubtlypushes this pointtodistortion. In mostofhis reclinilll'
Iludes painted in 1916 and 1917, the woman lies on her back, one breast I'.
seen inprofilesothattheupperpartof thetorsoisseenin mostcasesfromth,
I()I,IO], side,butthepelvisis viewedfrontally,indeeditis thrustrightoutinthefrolll
10
4
ofthe pictureplane, completewith dark pubic triangle. Thisis significanl.
since the position is impossible to achieve without bending the knees, as il
presupposesanindependentlyarticulatedlumbarspine. Modiglianichoos('"
- deliberately or unconsciously - to conceal the woman's legs from till
thighs down, and this only emphasizes his focal point all the more. And Ill"
stresses this further: hecentresonthetorso, bycuttingoffarmsandlegs, nul
unlike the photographic cropping that goes on in centre-folds today. III
someof theseatedandstanding nudes, theantique Venus pudica clicheis used
convincingly: the models conceal their sex with a convel11ent piece (II
102, 105 drapery, or better still with their hand, thereby only making it mOl(
obvious.
The colour scheme is usually very warm and the background ha\
104 lu xurious reddish tonalities from which the soft peach-coloured flesh
emerges, its extremely tactile texture glowingwith pinkshadows. In thest'
paintings, the women never cease to be sexual, whether they are awake01
seem to beasleep;in fact, in mostcases,theirfacial expressionseemstobethl'
same whether their eyes are open or shut - a far cry from Modigliani\
approachintheportraits.WhenModiglianiappropriatessleep,herejustasill
otherpaintings, heacknowledges mutual desire.
Neither the model ' s sleep nor her sexuality are allowed to be her own:
both must be a response to Modigliani as a man - and this response is a
projectionofhis physical and artisticdesires. So she is twice an object, firsl
sexua lthen painted. This is not to say that the womendid notacquiesce ill
this, but their persistently beatific poses indicate that they belong tu
Modigliani's compensatory fantasy world, made ofdreams ofsuccess and
permanentrecognition.
Maldororwas passing bywithhis bulldog;hesaw ayounggirl asleep in thl'
shadowofaplanetree,andmistookheratfirstforarose...itis impossibleto
say which first came to his mind, whether the sight ofthe child or thl'
resolution which immediately followed. He undressed swiftly, like a mall
whoknowswhatheis abouttodo.Nakedas astone,hethrew himself onthl'
younggirl ' sbody.
(Lautreamont, Les Chants de Maldoror)
144
The Nu blond (1917) which belonged to Francis Carco shows a fr;'1',il.- /rI,
younggirlwhoappears to besexually unaware; this is notaglorificatiuJi ul
li eT state norahomagetoJeanne'svirginity,butModigliani castinghimself'
III the roleof a male predator, very like the hero ofLes Chants de J\;Jaldorof,
\l lrveying his prey with an acute knowledge of what his immediate
Illtentionsare,evenifthey are only infantasy. Such'Florentine', Botticelli-
like nudes occur twice in 1917 and then three times in 1919, the last ofhis
1,.lintingsonthis subject.
However, Modigliani does not always depict the female nude as a sex
nhj ect. His religious drawings consist almost enti rel y ofnudes (see pp.
1.\1- 34) andareexactlycontemporarywithhis first greatseriesofpaintings
<I ,'recliningnudesOf1916.In thereligiousdrawings, thefiguresaredivested 88-9
0
Il lltonlyof theirclothes,butalsoofanyindicationofsexuality.Theyseemto
hI.: engrossedinsomespiritualactivity,lookingupwards,utterlyobliviousof
I hlirnakedness. Anumberoflifestudiesof thefemalenudepresentnudityin 95
.1 way,thatis asanaturaldivinestatethatbecomessexuallysignifi cant
l'l1ly whenthe modellooksoutside herselfandjoinsin a momentaryfusion
with the artist.
While he was painting the Nu blol',d in 1917, Zborowski , by now his
dl' 3Ier, burstintotheroom.Modiglianiwasfurious, threwthegirloutof the
I(l Om and threatened todestroy thepicture;hefinished itwith greatviolent
, /;\shes ofcolour. All these paintings are the result ofan intimacy slowly
(reated during the process ofpainting; such an emotional atmospherewas
private, and any intrusion was tantamount to violation.
Afterwards, he was completely exhausted, mentally and physically. Lunia
( ' zcchowska says he would immediately bathe, flooding the Zborowski
.ljnrtment.Severalwitnessesnoticedthephysicalefforthe putintopainting.
Ioujita, theJapanese artist who knew him well, termed it 'orgasmic': 'He
wentthroughallkindsof gesticulations,hisshouldersheaved,he panted.He
IIlade grimaces and cried out.' Foujita was surprised at the delicacy ofthe
Il'sult. Onthatoccasion, Modiglianiwasworkingonaportrait, so whenhe
was painting a nude woman, theeffort must have been even more intense
.IIld the atmosphereofthesession highly cha rged.
In projecting his own attitudes to emotional and sexual relationships,
Modigliani was naturally not unique. In 1919, Modigliani met Auguste
whohadapparentlyheardof him.Theeighty-seven-year-oldartist,
I'Jralysedbyrheumatismanddecrepitwi thage,toldhimtopaintawoman's
hllttocks as he would fondle them withhis hand. Modigliani thought thi s
emark particularly facile and, incapable ofdiscussion at the best oftimes,
simplystormedout.Thesoftpalpabilityof Renoir'snudesis atonewiththe
Iruit, flowersandchildren ofhisharmoniousworld picture,and maybethe
145
104 R eclil1ing Nude, '9' 7
element ofwistfulness is caused by the fact that when he painted them, he wa',
106 no longer at the height of his powers. Both artists painted women as objet""
of pleasure, and Modigliani's nudes, although never linked with nature in till
same way, display a similar epidermic sensuousness,
In 1917, afte r a grea t deal of debate, Berthe Weill agreed to giv\
107 Modi gliani a show in her new premises in the rue Taitbout, unfortunatel)'
situat ed oppos ite a poli ce station. As an art dealer, she cut a singular figure 011
the Paris art market. A tiny, bespect acled woman, always dressed in tailor(,d
suits, she exhibit ed mos t of the avant-garde from Picasso onwards, witholll
ever making a great deal of money out of her adventurous enterprise; hl'l
own taste was her onl y guide. This was to be Modigliani 's first, and last, Olll'
man show, although he had participated in several mi xed exhibitions, Till
leaRet announcing the show was illustrated with a drawing of a nude, and ;1
poem by Cendrars about a Modigliani portrait served as an introduction,
109 Cendrars, whom he painted and drew several times, was one of thl'
foremost poets of his day. Unlike Apollinaire, he was no snob; Ehrenburg
described him as a ' romanti c adventurer' who had travell ed the world bVL'1
and had had the most extraordinary life: 'He was a Bohemian in Peking, ;1
146
T(), S:. I'/I/fJA "T"'/ ,, T(\'
w:\IIdnill g juggkr in France, \,vas a bee-keeper, a tractor-driver and Wrotl'.1
h, )nk ()Jl Himsky- Korsakov. I have never seen him depressed, unner ved III
wi til<)lI l hope' Jnd this despite losing hi s ri ght ar m in the First World W:II
Mo( il g li:llli and Cendrars struck up a li felong fri endship which ,vas based 011
:1 I' rof"DlIlld mutual respect.
T hl' show was sched uled to last just over four weeks. On the day of the
privJt c \'i ew, passers-by were attracted by the noise and also by the nud.,
prominentl y displayed in the window: thi s was Zborowski's idea, intended
to attract potential buyers. T he small group leering at the painti ngs gre\\'
into a throng and brought the poli ce officer over from across the roa d.
Berthe W ei ll says that from his office window, he had a full view of one "I
the large nudes. Having flISt ordered her t o take down such filth ('ces salctcs' )
from public vie\\', he had the res t of the pictures re moved from the WJlb
The show had not even been open for one full day. Be rthe Weill says that th.
wa r ga ve enormo us powers to police officers who took the law into their OWII
hands and abused it. Modigliani found no one t o champion hi s cause: as .1
meteque, an alcoholic, a Jew and bein g unfit for se rvice even in the Forcigll
Legion, he stood no chance of redress from the auth orities or t he public, r ..
whom he was unknown.
The social structure t hat caused such a violent reaction to Modigliani'"
paintings is still with us today. A few years ago the New York post.d
authorities demanded th at the Guggenhei m Muse um withdraw from 5:11.
106 Auguste Renoir, Reclillil1g Nude , c. 191 8
Galene . B. Wei ll :-:':1
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du '1 decembre au decembre I () I ':.
( 1'011' Ie. jOll r; sallr le3 dim:t nches)
' ''7 Exhibition catalogue,
PI I
llie postcards of Modigliani's nude in their collection. In 1927, Giovanni
'Icheivv il ler wrote one of the ea rliest monographs on Modigliani wi thout
lI , ing one sin gle reproduction of the nudes 'so as not t o run the danger of
Ill curring the sanct ions foresee n by Art. 339 of the Penal Code' . Have
IIJan ers reall y changed? When Life magazine published an article, this time
ilillstrated, on Modi gliani, an irate reader wrote ' Nothing prevents me from
ri pping the dirt from the pages of your magazine before such "art "
, nnt aminates my children.'
Arti stic scandals - of which Modigliani ' s was only a minor one - are a very
indication of the moral climate of the time, with all its double
' 1:lIl dards. Arti sts and writers who openly discredited the unvv ritten
\ (l ll vent ion were bo und to incur penalti es , and it is onl y with this
hackground in mind th at we can understand the brutal reacti on of the poli ce
149

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109 Blaise Cendrm's, 191 6
1\1 Modi gliani' s exhibition. The fact that a number of artists fared well from
I he: publi city they inadvertently received must have made Modigliani feel
"ve: n more w retchedly alone when no one took up his defence.
Nijinsky' s performance in L' Apres-midi d'un Jaune (which he himself had 110
, horeographed) in 19 12 created an enormous scandal in the press, especially
,IS tbe Ballets Russes had enjoyed an unparalleled success ever since Diagbilev
k id brought them over to Paris in 1909. Tbe editor of Le Figaro, Gaston
C:.Jlmette, condemned tbe ball et outri ght: 'We bave seen a grossly indecent
r;llll1, whose movements are full of bestial eroticism and shamelessness.'
108 Sial/ding N llde (Le 1'\1/1 blol1d) , 191 7 lSI
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Whell Rodin, in a long article in Le Malil1, came to Nijinsky's defell
Ca lml'CIC furiously demanded that the French Government expel Rodll'
'roII I h is home, the Hotel Biron, where he exhibited 'a series of libidinull
dr:l\\'ings and cynical sketches'. The public outcry which ensued resulted III
being granted the Hotel Biron for life; athis death, itwas turned inl., ,
Illll Se Um dedicated to his work.
Brancusi was not to be exempt from such censorship; his frequent us,' .,f
phallic symbolism, albeit subtle, caused endless trouble, and once resulted III
the forcible removal of a sculpture from an exhibition. It is as if Ih.
representation of male genitalia was seen as a threat to the virtues .,f
militarism and the patriarchal tradition. It is strange to think that such a stl'llI
attitude came from a city which had recently erected the most giganll'
phallic monument of self-congratulation, the Eiffel Tower. Modiglialll
J 11 however, was evidently sufficiently at ease with his own sexuality to bring Oil'
the sensuousness of men in his portraits and drawings of them.
In 1913 , Van Dongen caused an outrage when he exhibited a nude simph
112 entitled Tableau at the Salon d' Automne; it was removed by the police (III
grounds ofobscenity and the affair was turned into an issue about freedom ,,f
expression by opposing factions in the press. Van Dongen was criticized f(I'
having painted a prostitute in far too realistic detail: not only were till
allusions to fetishism decried - they obviously had an embarrassing air "I
familiarity about them - but also the pubic hair. Furthermore, the wom,lIl
depicted dominates the picture with an air of self-sufficiency and casual III
difference to the grovelling voyeur. But Van Dongen, although a foreiglll"
had been very successful in France through the efforts of his deal,"
Bernheim-Jeune, and his own social ambitions, ingratiating himself with "
wealthy clientele in Paris; whereas Modigliani's paintings at the time WCII
far from being considered as investments. So Van Dongen was bound to gaill
the support of his most influential patrons, and as a result the liberal pre",
defended him throughout the scandal.
When Berthe Weill asked why Modigliani's paintings had been censon'"
so savagely, the police officer stammered with embarrassment that it W,I ' .
because of the pubic hair. Pubic hair, admitted only in recent years ill
popular pornography, had been tacitly banned from depictions of femah
nudes, as being too suggestive of a tactile reality. The appearance "I
secondary sexual characteristics are indications that the primary ones can h.
put to use, so in accordance with Western morality (rather than
which would have been the concern in the East), any such reminder ofactiV<'
female sexuality was forcibly removed. Even Titian had observed
convention. And the existing social order depended on the upholding of
moral standards.
154
, I Kecs va n Dongen.
l.tI./entl (Le Chale espngno/),
II) 13
\n this post-Second Empire age, any public reference to the female libido
II' ,IS considered obscene: sexual enjoyment, when not an accidental by-
I,rnduct of perpetuating the species, was a male preserve; and, moreover, it
1", longed to the realm of the illicit, the clandestine element being part of its
, klrm. Popular songs, even before Mistinguett and Josephine Baker, had
"(len exalted the woman's view of sexual love, although in the days before
I he wireless not everyone would have been familiar with them.
I 'IIrnogra phic postcards could easily be concealed in an inside pocket, and
liard-core pornography (which differs only in incidental detail from the kind
ISS
,"Iient because tbe woman looks directl y OUt at him; he therefore shares
responsibility for the situation depicted. And yet although traditionally
,lccepted mal e behaviour may be called into question, it is still the woman
who is condemned because she cont inues to otter hersel f to every
, pectator!voyeur who wi ll ever see the painting.
In Modigliani's paintings, the one point that fiouted conventional
morality was the attitude of the women. They arc emancipa ted in that they
.1 ppear to accept their situation without expecting an y flllancial or emotional
1 14 Frauc;ois Boucher.
.' lIle O'Mfilphy, 1751
I I ) Edouard Ma ner.
Olympia, 1863 (derail)
113 Postcard. 1915
printed today) was available, under the counter. Bur public manifestations,
such as exhibi tions. were something else as they implied an ottlcial
acceptance of a mode of behaviour hitherto unmentionable in middle-class
113 society. A contemporary post card shows a nymphet reclining in the sam!'
pose as that of many of Modigliani's nudes; she appears in an Eastern setting,
complete with opium-smoking apparatus. However, this would have beell
less ottensi ve to the authorities of the time for exactly the reasons many
people today would fmd it so pernicious: the girl who cannot be much oldl'l
than fifteen is not parti cipating. she is one of the sinful exoticJ ottered to til<'
voyeur's delectati on.
Throughout history, nude women in art having any degree of self
confidence are always supposed to be courtesans. What turns an ordinary
woman into a courtesan is the detail surrounding her : instead of the forest
(Diana), a letter (Bat hsheba), a view of a garden (Eve), a co uple of peacocks
Ouno) , there is a realistically depicted bed and symbols of material wealth. III
the postcard mentioned earlier, for exampl e, the Oriental paraphernalia is
stressed. The purpose of the details in all these images is to build up a fantasy
world which the voyeur can enter at any point: the voyage, the chaneI'
100, 114 discovery or tbe in vitation, as in Titian's Ve11us, Boucher's i\lllfe 0' J\Ilurplr y,
115, 112 Mallet's Olympia, and Van Dongen's Tableau. From Manet onwards, social
comment is implicit: the male spectator is very clearly identifIed with til\'
1')6
remlllll'ration. Theyare not prostitutes,wivesormythical figures, yet they
preS('llt asex ual challenge. Theshock valueofModigliani 's nudeswas their
dir,<:tlll'SS ;ll1d immediate appeal to the senses. In Kisling's similar pictures
116 (If these years, the studio and model may well have been the same, butthe
Illlpactof thenudeis delayedbecauseof thedescriptivedetail (thestill-lifein
the forcgrow1d, the embroidered pillow and blanket), detracting from the
dFi.:ct ofthesuggestive pose. In Modigliani'spaintings, thereare nogifts, no
conversation, no dallying. The nudes (with the exce ption of the static,
sleeping ones) are liabl e to change their positionatany moment to receive
the spectator, and the rhythmis oneofsteadily growing excitement. One
117 painting represents a woman's sexual response to Modigliani at its fullest
pitch, not unuke his earliest picture ofa nude. She is twistingher body in
opposite directions and clenching her fists , expressive ofthe high sexual
tension that Modigliani has created - the invisibly caused orgasm, the
paintbrushinstead 0 fthe penis.
For Modigliani'snudes, physical pleasure is sufficient. Whether this was
actuallytrueofthe'womenhe paintedis irrelevant- therewasnootherway
116 Mo'ise Kisling, Reclining Nude, 1918
117 Reclining Nude, 1917
I hat Modigliani , the bourgeois, was able to reconcile hi s strong sense of
privacy and territory with such blatant statements about his sexuali ty: the
women depictedhadto be thosewhodid notmattertohim. Afterpainting
them or making love to them, he could reject them, and, as far as he was
l'oncerned, they could belong toanybody.
Even ifthere were conclusive proofthat the models for Venus, Mile
C) ' iV1urphy, Tableau andReclining Nude were theartists' wives, these pictures,
I II a male-orientated society, would never have been enti tl ed 'MrsTitian',
' Mrs Boucher' , ' Mrs Van Dongen', 'MrsKisling' or, for that matter, 'Mrs
Modigliani'. Modigliani was instinctively aware ofthi.s situation: hi swell-
developed propri etary instincts did notallow his women to be painted by
idlow artists, nor did he paint them nude. When Kisling asked to paint
13eatrice's portrait, Modi gliani forbadeit, sayingthat for awomantoallow
herself to be painted was tantamow1t to giving herself to the artist.
Modigliani was in this respect anything but controversial in his attitude
lowardsthewomenhepainted.
I59
CI-IAPTI ' i! ~ I '.
The last years 1917-20
III the last two years of his life, Modigliani's work is more cohesive than at
.IIl V other period in his career. The works oflate 1917 lead to those of winter
1')19 with unprecedented logic. His production in those years is impressive
.llld averages just over one painting, and sometimes several drawings a week;
I , wer pictures were lost than before because Zborowski, his new dealer,
11 1;lde sure that his paintings di d not go astray, but he had no control over the
,Irawings which Modigliani fr equently gave away.
This in the eyes of the public has become his most popul ar period: the
works of these years command the hi ghest prices at auction-rooms and are
Ilftcn reproduced on the covers of romanti c biographies - especially
I'.lintings of children. And Modigliani now enters coffee-tabl edom, as the
',LTene painter of wide- eyed innocence. The reasons are not hard to find: by
II OW Modigliani had relinquished control of his career to Zborowski, who
hllmd him model s, makeshift studios (usually wherever the Zboro,vskis
I hcmselves happened to be li ving) and above all the means for survival.
lIesides, Modigliani found himself gradually entering a near-matrimonial
l ~ l t C , compiete with bambini and disagreeable mother-in-law.
The result was that Modigliani withdrew into himself, a silent world of his
,'wn, a kind ofaquarium where all that mattered was hi s compulsive desire to
paint. His contacts with the outside world became increasingly remote, and
,tylistically he referred only to his own pictorial experience; even his sitters,
Is pecially the women (Hanka Zborowska. Lunia Czechowska, J eanne).
hL'gan to look alike on canvas. His consumption of drugs and drink was now
slIicidal . but it was with pride that he displayed th e stains on his handkerchief,
when he began to cough up blood two months before his death.
There are three phases in this last period: the first starts in late 191 7. after
his failed exhibition at the Berthe Weill gallery until his departure to the
">outh of France in March 1918; the second covers his stay there which lasted
" ver a year, until May 1919; the last is the eight months that preceded his
dL ath on 24 January 1920 in Paris.
Zborowski. known to all as 'Zbo'. had been handling his work since 1916
I , ) the best of his ability. usin g all the resources of his imagination. He had
come from Cracow in 1914, at the age of twenty-fi ve, on a Government
161
.0 r : ... _ I.J '7/. ___ ... _1_: . ""'TO
n.: se:l rch grail[ which ran out a month later, when the war broke Ollt. I"
tholl gh r o f himself as a poet, but his main quality was an el1ormOIl '.
CllthllSI:ISI1l for art, which in the case of Modi gli ani knew no bounds. So Iii
illlllll'lli:ltcly endea red himself to the arti st, with fa r greater effect thallih.
dlicil'llt and professional Guill aume, who was primarily interested ill
link ing money. So Zborowski scuttled around Pari s, paintings under 111'0
:I I'In , looki ng up names of potenti al buyers in the telephone directory. II 1'.
s ~ i that he addressed envelopes at three fr ancs an hour, gave up smoking :\1101
sol d his cl othes so that Modi gli ani could drink. It is al so said that iii'
innumerable accounts describing Zborowski as some kind ofself-made sailll
are an exaggeration. The initial contract was that Modi gliani was to recci v.
fifteen fr ancs a day in exchange for hi s entire production of paintings, hili
Modi gliani remained free to dispose of his dra wings as he pleased; the stipelld
increased later on , as his pai ntings started to sell for hi gher prices.
Zbo's devoti on to, and trust in, Modi gli ani are undeniable. It was 0111\
because of Modigli ani' s repeated entreaties that Zbo took up his protcf!. '
Soutine. Polite and refi ned, a distinguished Gentil e with an aristocratic wil, .
he could not bear Soutine' s savage Jewishness that reeked of ghctlCl .
pogroms, and starva tion. At least Modi gliani did not throw that at him. II,
symboli ca ll y imposed his fri end upon the Zborowski household by paintill l:
a life-size portrait of Sou tine on one of their doors. Both Modi gli ani and Zh
were incurabl e Romanti cs and corresponded to each other' s ideals; the pClI'l
\Nanted a heroic, unrecogni zed artist he co uld fI ght for , and the pailltl' l
identifi ed with this ima ge and craved for someone to devote himselfentirl'l,
to him for the sa ke ofhis talent alone; their mutual gratitude comes out ill all
si x painted portraits and the many drawings: in ail of them, Zbo remaill ',
gentl e and patient , slowl y graduatin g from a timid idealist to a more sell
confident, if reserved, dealer. The very last drawing gives him a broadC'l
build, as if his narrow shoulders had enlarged with success. Some peopl e sa id.
a littl e mali ciously perhaps, that he took himself for t he new Voilard.
118 The first portrait of I 918 is the mos t intimate, as it shows him head alld
shoulders without his usual collar and tie. Maybe Zbo wanted ' to sa ve hi.
dream' (as Modi gliani had put it, aged seventeen, in one of his letters) , or.1I
least a fr agment ofit, a dream that was still concerned w ith a nebul ous world
of ideals and poetr y; in this most Romanti c of portraits, he looks out al .,
distant hori zon, his unkempt hair falling about his head, emerging frolll .,
grey-blue background with a sky-coloured halo. Both the art deal er and th,
artist were, in fact, rather bad poets, but fortunatel y neither needed to wril,
to express their personal lyri cism.
Hanka Z borowska was ofaristocrati c birth, unlike her husband, and lovl'd
el egant cl othes. She put up with Modi gli ani 's fr equentl y outrageous condul l
)02
' 1<) HOl1ko Zbo rowska, 19 17
hl' ClllSl' it was increasingl y clear that he was a worthwhil e investment; sh.
to l'nclurc Soutine for the same reason, The coupl e li ved ex tra vagant!\
\\ Ilt..' lll' vcr possi ble, especiall y when the y moved to an apartment in the rIl.
[b ra in Montparnasse; but they frequentl y found themsclVl'''
p,'llni lDs, :lnd Lunia Czechowska has recount ed that they often fa ced tho
Ilr \)Spcct ofcarting large pain tings about on foot simply beca use they did 11<11
Il :lve the tr am far e, So it is as a measure of economy that Hanka let herselfh.
by Modigliani, They kept the professional models to a minimuJIl ,
and they wer e usuall y reserved for the nudes. Modigliani respect ed Hanb ill
the most bourgeois "vay poss ible, that is as Zbo's wife, thereby mirrorill !'.
exactl y her toleration of him. There is distance but not mockery, as in th,
earlier portraits of nig ht-time revellers o r high-minded ladi es, but thi s is nol
due simpl y to politeness or feigned respect, of which Modigliani was nO\\
totall y incapable. Modigli an i in his self-absorption had lost his critical
119 sharpness, The ea rli est portraits of Hanka set the t ype for all th e succeedin!'.
ones of her: an elongated oval face on a long slender neck; the interest i"
elsewhere, generally outside the picture plane, except when his attenti on I',
caught by incident al detail, such as a collar which seems to be growing h )
itself. The coldness of her unsmiling features does not express anything; the y
have become a pictorial motif on which Modigliani works in a detached.
near-abstract way.
Lunia Czechowska was the :',borowskis' closest fri end; her husband was ,I
poet and a revolutionar y, and he was away at war. She had a small-boned
body and an oval face with a pointed chin, high Sl avic cheekbones.
slanted blue eyes, and looks almost Mongolian in some portraits.
Modigliani painted her in 191 7 and 1919 and made drawings of 1m
throughout their acquaintance. In each rendering she is different and
expresses aspects of her self-possessed characte r; what is most important i,
that Modi gliani, excepti onally for thi s per iod. allows himself to be sensitivl'
to these variations whi ch repeatedly chall enge him into a new picture. 111
these paintings, she increasingl y warms to him: at first she poses for hilll
formally, her head slightly on one side.
I'll never forget th e fIrSt ti me I posed for him. As the hours gradually wenl
by, I was no longer afraid of him. r can see him now, in his shirtsleeves, his
tousled tr ying to put my features down on canvas. From time to time,
hi s hand would extend towards a bottle of cheap brandy, I could see tha t till'
alcohol W:1S having its effect, he was getting increasingly excited; I no 10ngl'1
existed, he only saw his painting. He w as so absorbed in it tb at he spoke to ml'
ill Ir:tli :lll. He paint ed with such violence that the painting fell on his head as
he k :lIlt:: d fo rwa rd to look at it more closely. I was terrified; he was genuinely
sorry to have scared me and began to sing It alian songs, to make me forgl'\
rhl' in cidl'llt.
}(J4
120 L,fI1i a Cz ec/lOwska , 19 17
-----
In the next paintings of Lunia, she is no longer afraid, and we see hl'!
smiling or carrying on a conversation; later she moves ri ght to the front 01
the picture plane with a gesture that must have been ver y typical of hCI ,
120 clipping her chin on her hand, and resting one bent arm on the other, .1
gesture of deep attention, which recurs in the drawings as well; this 1\
Modigliani 's first and only continuous di alogue with a woman he nevl'!
ccased to respect. She says that he made declarations of love to her but tiw
she resisted his advances; yet it was she who guarded the door whl'1I
Modi gli ani painted the nudes at Joseph Bara, apparentl y to keep out th. ,
over-solicitous (or simply curious) Zbo, but also maybe to make sure th.11
nothing else but painting wem on during the sessions. She was after all . 1
respectable wife, as she said so often, but Jeanne was to be very jealo",
of her.
In 19I8, Modigliani produced two portrait drawings ofLunia whi ch an'
of a particularly fmished kiild; they are large - the size of a small painting
and are drawn in pencil with soft highli ghts. The elonga tion and the qualit y
of the shadows prefi gure the very last paintings; thi s has happened
throughout hi s ceuvre and even appears to be the very fWl cti on of hi,
dra wings - that is to prepare [he internal process of the paintings long befor ..
they occur.
121 In the main drawing, Lunia is supremely graceful and strong, gazing
straight in front of her, something of a tragic queen of antiquity; top right.
Modigliani has written La Vita eun dono dei poelli a; molt; de colora ehe sanno('
hanno a eo loro elle non sanna e ehe non hanna ('Life is a gift fr om the few to thc
many, from those who have and who know to those w ho have not and do
1I0t know'), Not his invel1tion entirel y, but it does not matter; maybe
Modi gli an i, distantly remembering D' Annunzio' s COl1vito , meant they were
among the happy few who shared the secret of life,
Zborowski initiall y found sitters and clients in hi s immediatt
environment of expatriate Polish intel lect uals; so Modigliani twice painted
122 the portrait of Elena Pawlowski, as an earl y garforme; but Modigliani h:as
"
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chosen to belie her mascul ine clothing and cropped hair with the fra gility 01
her features.
12} A yea r later, in 191 8, when he painted the portrait ofBaranowski in a very
similar way, the sexua l borderline is not so clear: he poses with a kind of
coynL'SS that is no longer affected, Modigli ani smil es but does not criti cize.
This is the kind of commission he would have shied away from earlier on, as
his vicious treatment of Cocteau shows: femininity in men, interpreted as
gL'lltklless and sensitivit y, was something he understood and may even havl'
bL'L'1! attracted to, as his portraits of Gris or Laga r indicate, but thea trical
ITIJnlll'risIll S he found repul sive and les grandesfolles he loathed,
1M
1 2 1 Lllnin Czechowska (La Vi la e/.Ill Dono ' , ,), I 9 [X
i'
,
,
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I
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122 El ena Pawlowski, 1917
InJul y 1917, Modigliani met Jeanne Hebuterne, aged nineteen - he wa',
thirt y-three. Both attended the Academie Colarossi, a drawing school fOI
professionals and students. Her remaining drawings show great promis, ',
some have even been mistaken for originals by Modigliani , es pecially
those showing him.
Ofall the women he was to know for any length of time, she was the most
trusting, the most fanatically devoted, the most unquestioning. Un
doubtedl y, she was a virgin when she met him. Within months they were
living together in cheap hotels in the area. She had long reddish b r i d ~
framing a bony face, her extreme pallor causing her to be nicknamed 'Noix
de Coco' (coconut), a swan neck, a small frail body; she dressed in clothes she
168
dcslgned :lnd made herself, a slight air of fancy-dress. She was very fond I Ii
mllSIC, Bach especially, and she would play the violin in the studio they latCI
shared. Survivmg photographs indicate a greater strength and individualil \
Ihall Modigliani allows for in his paintings (except in the very earliesl I,
('specially the one where she stands in front ofa picture, eager and vivacioll'"
sumcthing of a coquette, wearing a hat and a necklace. She certainly needed
forcefulness and courage to impose her own life-style upon her horrified .
staunchly Catholic petit-bourgeois family. More than anything, the fact th.11
Modigliani was a Jew brought dishonour upon them.
Early on in their relationship, Jeanne seemed to have given up any form lIi
thinking and left decisions to Modigliani, a kind of shrivelling of mellLIi
capacity. She did not dare attempt, even slightly, to curb his drinking alill
drug-taking, and she did not participate in either: he seems to have had till
power of narcotics over her. She would often be seen late at night, timidl y
looking for him at La Rotonde, and often he would respond to her entreati c',
with brutality, which he would alternate with private tenderness. 'He W:l.
dragging her along by an arm, gripping her frail wrist, tugging at one III
other of her long braids of hair, and only letting go of her for a moment III
send her crashing against the iron railings of the Luxembourg. He was like- ,I
126 Jeanne Heburerne
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127 jea/me HeiJuteme, c. 1919
madman, crazy with savage hatred.' And yet Salmon, the author of La Vie
pa55ionnce de !l1odig/iani, one of the earliest romantic biographies, assures us
elsewhere that in his opinion they were a most admirably suited couple.
I see that you have in your heart goodness andjustice: but we could not live
together. Right now you are full of admiration for those looks of mine
which have been the ruin of more than one of your kind: but sooner or later
you will repent that you have given me your love, for you do not know my
soul. But put this in your head never to forget it: wolves and lambs may not
look at each other with gentleness.
(Lautreamont, Lcs Chants de IVlaldoror.)
Both Modigliani and Jeanne suspected that thiS mherent IInbalance was
woven into their relationship. It may well be that Jeanne insisted they live
17.1
together so as not to lose him. Modigliani had no reason to fight off the timid
adV;lIICl'S ofa girl who demanded nothing of him but the daily enactment 01
all his t;mtasies, however humiliating for her; being with him provided all
thl' gratification she desired. But her total lack of resistance did not provid"
hil1l with the renewed challenge he needed, so he sought distractioll'
elsewhere, with customary lack of discretion and much to Jeanne's grief. It
;\ ppears that about the same time he had a rather involved affair with ;)
CalJadian student called Simone Thiroux who was slowl y wilting away with
tuberculosis. She claimed to have had a son by him about the time whl"1I
Giovanna (Modigliani and Jeanne's daughter) was born, but he was adopted
on condition that the name of his parents never be disclosed, so the mystery
will never be solved. Also to be remembered is that these are the years ill
which he painted his great series of nudes in which sexual involvement (evell
ifonly in fantasy) is indubitable. Jeanne was insanely jealous ofevery womall
he ever painted, every moment ofattention he gave to another. It may be fOI
this reason that she made no attempt to look after his own daughter or to saw
the child she was carrying.
The paintings of Jeanne are portraits of submissio.n; after the fmt, it ~
impossible to imagine the woman depicted anywhere else but indoors,
uttering anything more than a few soft-spoken syllables, abdicating. Thm'
portraits of early 1918 are exceptional for their depth of feeling. Modigliani
124 has marvelled for one moment at Jeanne's extreme youth, genuinely grateful
for the wholeness with which she has given herself. A profile view ofJeannl'
in the same mood makes her look even younger than she is; she has cut her
hair shoulder-length, a symbol of her transition to womanhood. In both, her
soft skin is translucent, a Botticelli pallor; her expression is at once candid and
all-knowing, and it is exactly in this way that he henceforth painted children.
125 In the third painting of the series, her face is tilted and she is dishevelled; sht'
looks suggestively from the corner of her eyes and the focus is on that very
dark indirect look, something animal-like in it; her hair falls about her face,
which has a slightly olive tinge and seems to shine with perspiration. This is
the sexual Jeanne, a little wild and secretive. Here for the first and only time
she expresses her willingness to submit to a new-found carnal reality in
which a certain violence is not exempt.
In the rare nude drawings ofJeanne, she appears reticent at being depicted
this way and clutches her chemise: timidity mixed with Catholic guilt.
Through Jeanne, he became interested in painting adolescent girls on the
threshold of womanhood. While recalling Lautreamont's fantasies,
Modigliani was perfectly capable of appreciating the subtle mixtLIre of
nascent unselfconscious sensuality and childlike trust: Modigliani observes
them as they respond to him on both levels.
174
128 Little Girl ill Blue. IQI8
[n March 1918, following a general trend, Zborowski decided to send iii"
troupe of artists and their closest companions to the South of France; tli.
deprivation of war, the shortage of food and coal had weakened tlll'il
resistance, and especially Modigliani's already fragile health. So Soutilll'
Foujita with Fernande Baney, Modigliani, Jeanne and, rather ill
congruously, her mother, arrived in Nice.
At the best of times, Modigliani could not bear living in a community Sl'l
up, so when the others went to Cagnes, he stayed in Nice. Not for him till
landscape of the Midi and the brilliant light of the Riviera: they exasperated
him and drove him to seek refuge in small hotels in backstreets with inm'l
courtyards filled with shade. He sought Paris everywhere and, to rli.
Osterlinds, friends of Zborowski, with whom he stayed a little later, h,
declared that the Pernod poster for absinthe he found in a local cafe was tli.
most wonderful work of art in the whole world, The others, starved .. I
warmth and colour, were revelling in the magnificence of the surroundin!-!.'"
maybe it was because he was the only one of the group who had actuall\'
been brought up in a Mediterranean climate that it had no appeal for hilll
Most of the pictures were painted indoors. Here models could not Ill'
arranged as in Paris, and local people had to be asked to pose. In ['1(,1.
although he met up with old friends like Cendrars and Survage (not til
mention the presence of Soutine), he did not paint their portraits here. H,'
needed them in the Parisian surrowldings natural to him, even though thes,
were not necessarily visible in the paintings; here his friends were like fish oul
128, 136 of water. So he painted, without a hint of malice, servants and children and
137 peasants in their everyday context. Late in February 1919, Jeanne becanH'
pregnant. This may have moved him to paint children with an unexpected
tenderness, bordering on sentiment. He stresses their helplessness by
exaggerating the rowldness of their eyes, always defming the iris, and by
diminishing the size of their mouths. They alL pose decorously, on their besl
behaviour, but their look is resolute and trusting. Modigliani evidently did
not play down to them and treated them as he would their parents: except
that he has a supreme respect for their innocence, and this is precisely when'
the sentimentality stems from, rather than his latent paternalistic fantasies. III
his experience, childhood and adolescence had been periods ftlled witli
grandiose dreams and ideals, and it is their imminent passing that he mourns
ill these pictures. A kind of Romantic 'et in Arcadia ego', Arcadia not being
300 miles away, acrOss the water, especially with a child of his own invisibly
growing beside him.
The tragedy hinted at in the paintings may also be an economic one; with
a brother who was a socialist militant, imprisoned for the intensity of his
beliefs, and his own personal experience characterized by sudden reversals in
17
129 Leopold 1917/18
fortune, he was bound to be aware of social inequalities as he painted these
128
deprived children. One of the most poignant pictures shows a little girl
standing in the corner ofa room, It is a hot day outside. Everything is painted
in different shades of pastel blue, the walls, the dress, her strong, confident
gaze. She clasps her hands tightly; the floor paved with pink tiles tilts towards
us, and her feet appear very distant; as the eye travels bottom to top, she
seems to be growing taller. A legend attached to this particular painting
suggests that his paternalistic feelings were mostly withheld; Modigliani
demanded a litre of rouge (rough red wine) for each sitting, and the models,
whatever their age, brought it up with them; this little girl was confused and
177
carried in a bottle oflemonade; itis said that Modigliani painted this in a
shaking rage, probably with withdrawal symptoms associated with
deprivation of alcohol or drugs. Hanka believed that it was in thesl'
conditionsthathe painted best. Thesheeractofpaintingcalmedhim;with
all passionsspent, theatmosphere ofthe paintingis oneof serenity.
Life in Nicewasnotall peaceful; earlyin 1919, Modiglianimovedaway
fromjealUle, probably onaccountofheroverbearing mother, andjeanne
was to recall this period (ill fuct the wholestay) as amostunhappyone. Hl'
didnotmoderatehisdrinkingin anywayandwentaroundwiththeParisian
crowdand especially the Russian-born Leopold Sturzvage (alias Survage).
129 whomhepaintedin late 1917orearly1918.Thisis oneofthelast portraits
whereModiglianidisplaysanintelligentawarenessofthesitter'spersonality.
takingthatas hisstarting-point;thepainting,inbrowns, beigesandblack,is
full ofmovement:Survageappearstohavejustcomein, movingacrossthe
room, displacing theairabouthim.
(To Zbo, 1january1918)
Midnightonthedot
Mydear friend
Iembraceyouas Iwantedtoonthe day ofyourdeparture. I'moutonthe
townwith Survage, at the Coqd'Or. Isoldall thepaintings. Send money
quickly.ChampagneRowslikewater.Webothwishyouandyourdearwife
all thebest for thenew year.
Resurectio vitae
Ie incipitvitanova
II Novo A1mo.
Inreality,notasinglepicturehadbeensold,andSurvagesaidthattheywere
celebrating with wine. But this must have been one ofModigliani's last
celebrations. Zborowski, as usual, took the letter very seriously, Sll
Modiglialli hastily wroteback: 'Youarean oafwhodoes not understanda
joke. Ihaven'tsold athing....' Alittlelater, Modiglianilost all his papers
and his money, claiming they had been stolen; this was followed by
numerousletters to Zbo, pleading for money; never aletter-writer,he felt
embarrassedbyhisrepeatedentreaties,andcastshimselfasthevictimandthl'
culpritatthesametime.
Mydear Zbo
Here is the question or 'That is the question' [in English in the text] (see
Hamlet)thatis tosay.Tobe ornottobe. Iamthesinnerorthebloodyfool,
that'sforsure: Irecognizemymistake(if therebe indeedamistake)andmy
debt(iftherebeindeedadebt).Butnowthequestionisasfollows:ifIamnot
completelyboggeddown, Iamatleastseriouslystuck. Doyouunderstand.
178
130jeanne Hi/rulerne, 1919
YOLIsellt 200F., 100ofwhich had to go straight to Survage, whom I have to
thall k f(lrlJotbeing totally bogged down ... but now, if you free me, I shall
Illy debt and will carryon with our arrangement. Otherwise Ishall
Sl:l Y, irnrnobilized where I am, hands and feet tied and in whose interest
w(;tdd that be)
1.1 1 A photograph taken casually by a street photographer in 1918 or 191<)
sltt)WS him strolling down La Promenade des Anglais with Guillaume,
whose brisk gait is that of a busy entrepreneur, briefcase wlder his arm.
Modigliani has not had the time to pose, he is haggard, shabby; this visual
document of his real misery is the only one we have, because it is accidental,
and he would have censored it. That he should be seen with Guillaume is
significant; Guillaume was again becoming interested in Modigliani because
his works were beginning to command higher prices. In December 1918, he
showed some of his works in a mixed exhibition, side by side with paintings
by Matisse, Picasso, Derain and Via minck, in his new gallery in the fa ubourg
Saint-Honore. Zborowski's attempts in Nice were not very successful; he
had been right in presuming that there were a great number ofrefugees from
the war here, all wealthy, but they were now more determined than ever to
hold on to their precarious wealth. He appears to have done much sitting
about in hotel lobbi es, waiting to corner dukes and businessmen whom he
131 Modigliani with Paul GlliHaume in Nice, c. 1919
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annoyed intensely. But he managed to arrange portrait commissions with a
number of well-known personalities; so Modigliani painted Roger
Dutilleul, a famous collector from Paris, Gaston Modot, an early film star,
and Frans Hellens, the Belgian poet.
Modigliani has now refmed his technique so much that there are no areas
of uncertaint y any more; one line springs from the other, the linear flow is
continuous, the paintwork is much smoother; elegant as they may be, the
faces have become masks , perhaps death-masks of the sitters; their expression
is empty, any indication of spiritual life has disa ppeared.
An analogous process has taken place with Jeanne. From the pictures, we
can see that she has put on weight with her pregnancy (she sports an )42
endearing chin) and she appears to be at peace with herself. From the
pointedness of his pictorial treatment, ModigJiani seems to be saying that
18 I
impendingmaternityhashadastultifyingeffectonher: she posessheepishly
130 and her vacantstare, light blue now instead ofbrown, expresses neither
emotion nor physical sensation. It is probable that she retained far mort"
character than Modigliani in his pictures allowed for; for reasons that
concernedhimself, he preferredtonegatecompletelythe personalityofth<.:
womanvvith whomhewasliving.Yetfromthepictures,wecansee thatshe
is still making herself original clothes, and her sense ofcolour is very
individual: she mingles bright red and violet, ochre and bottle-green.
Modiglianiechoeshercoloursinthebackground;inonepaintingwheresh<.:
wearsmainlyscarlet,hepaintsthechairandthedoorbrightredandtheeffect
is almost Fauve. It may be due to Jeanne's influence that he hereafter
brightenshis palette;thelightinNicealso playsaroleinthis, butevenonhis
return to Paris he uses lighterand brightercolours.
HerepeatedlyremouldsJeanne'sbodyaccordingto theaestheticneedsof
themoment;oneofthemainmotifsis thelinewhich forms thehead-neck-
127 shoulder axis and in his preparatorysketches it becomes dominant. In thf
130, 142 paintings,anelongatedAfricanmaskis perchedonaswanneckandasuiteof
curvedarabesques form thebody; these worksare certainlyelegantin their
manneredpolish,buttherelationshipbetweenthedistortions(mainlyoftht"
neck, andoverallelongation) and the realistic detail (double chin, enlarged
belly) is uncomfortable:Jeannehasturnedintoaslightlymonstrousfreak of
nature, mentally arrested; perhaps this indirectly symbolizes his feelings
towardstherelationship: domesticitydefinitelyconstrainedhim.
On 29 November 1918, a girl was born to them; she was registered as
Jeanne Hebuterne, buther father was to call herGiovanna. Shewas in fact
illegitimate: Modigliani apparently was so happy thathe got drunkonthe
wayto thetownhallwherehewasgoingtoregisterherbirthandintheend
never got there. His paternal enthusiasm is recorded in scribbles, which
reassured his mother.
A few months later, he went to Cagnes, leavingJeanne and the baby in
Nice. Hespentsome time sharing a studio with Soutine who was painting
134 extraordinarylandscapes oftwisted roads, tumblingskies, houses and trees
jumbled up together. These paintings retained special significance for
Soutineallhis life;inlateryearshesoughttobuythemallbackfromdealers.
Whentheyfmallyleftthestudio,withtherentconsiderablyinarrears,itwas
in aterriblemess, fouled up;everythingevenslightlybreakablebroken,and
theownerinrevengetookthelandscapestheyhadleftbehindthemandused
them to coverhis chickencoopsandrabbithutches. A few yearslater, after
Modigliani'sdeath, herealizedtheywerepricelessandtriedtosalvagethem
withoutanysuccess, muchtohiseternalsorrow.Thereare manysuch tales,
all witha ring oftruth; manydrawings bearsignsof early ill-treatment.
J33 Landscape at Cagnes. 1919
182
134 Cha'im Sourine, Road /"
Cagne.,, 19 19
133 It may be here that Modi gliani painted his rare landscapes. 'I'm going to
start on landscapes. The first attempts will probabl y seem to be those of a
beginner', he writes to Zbo. Four such attempts and one related drawing
sur vive. They are all, interestingly, painted verti call y like portraits, and their
size is roughly that of head- and-shoulders subjects; in all of them there arc
houses, as ifhe needed perpetual reminders of the human presence; the idea
of wild, untouched nature must have appeared a littl e awesome to him. In
each painting, a tree do minates: reminiscences of the montagne Sainte-
Victoire where Cezanne used this device. In two paintings there art
cypresses, curiously reminiscent of the way Modigliani paints people:
the leafage is an elongated oval, and the trunk is a thin wavering stem; the
diagonals and the movement are slightly reminiscent of Soutine, but the
transparent tonalities and the surface relate to Cezanne: in the same clima te as
the Jas de Bouffan, whether in Li vorno or Cagnes, he always paid homage
to this artist. There is a harsh loneliness in these works. In a typicall y
J"OI1J:lntic account of Modigliani, Michel Georges-Michel says that he saw
~ 4
him whil e he was painting Bakst's portrait; they asked him why Utrillu
painted such miserable landscapes. 'You paint what you see. Put artists in
places other than the suburbs. Ah l collectors and dealers are always so
shocked when we [I] give them, instead of landscapes, onl y filthy sub urbs
with trees twisted and black as salsify, full of soot and smoke, and interiors
where the dining room is next to the toilet. ' Modiglia ni was extremel y
unlikely to launch himself into such grandiloquent speeches, es pecially ifhe
was so ber and with people he did not know well; but he probably made a few
inspired remarks which Georges-Michel vastly inflated, so they do reflect a
part ofhis opinion. What is true is that he could not, within his own terms of
reference, li e in a painting. If he did not possess grandiose feel ings about
nature, he could not paint pure landscapes, however magnificent the
background.
There is also a portrait ofa shopkeeper painted out ofdoors, probabl y also 136
at Cagnes; the background is a whitewashed wall with a tree in front,
completely flat, as if stuck on th e wall , and behind a ledge, two more trees
emerge; they are all stunted, perhaps dead; the effect is Surreal and it all has a
disquieting incongruity that recalls Giorgio de Chirico in spirit. The young
woman sits, like a massive lifeless weight, her fi xed sta re the colour of the
wall , her neck monumental with goitre.
At Cagnes, he stayed with Anders and Rachele Osterl ind. They were 135
teetotallers, and Modigliani actu all y gave up smoking and drinking for a
couple of months. RacheJe suffered from intest inal tuberculosis; like
135 Rachele OsterIind with
Modigliani's po rtrait of her
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Mocii gli :llli , she Vias in the region for her health, and he painted a meditative
pictlln: of her, with an acute, if pessimistic, understanding of what
slmv I y i1 :1 ppeni ng to her. It was with her husband that he went to visit Renoir
III I 'J.
Mudigliani painted several pictures of peasant boys, which, unlike his
lkpictio11S of cit y child ren, are deprived of sentimentality; just as for
' czl nne, hi s sitters have become pure subject-matter, like mountains or still-
life. He is very detached emotionall y; the pictures - and we can add the
shopkeeper to their number - are studies in mass and volume; incidental
anecdotal detail , like an outgro'wn j acket or an overtight waistcoat ,
29 only to stress this point further. A comparison of his early Beggar ojLilJOmO 01
137 I909 and his peasant boy reveals the distance travelled: the fmt, in its
fli ckering paintwork, owes its visual effect to Cezanne, but the second IS
closer to the Card-players in its conception, with the added practical
experi ence of sculpture; this is conftrmed by all the pictures painted at
Cagnes.
There are signs in this series of works of a kind of subconscious self-
mimicry, in that he has transposed the achievements of one medium into
another. Instead of evolving the stylistic vocabulary of the picture on thl'
kind of relationship he has established with the sitter, he resorts to a kind o(
ready-made formula based on the achievements of his later sculpture.
Painting sculptures of heads instead of faces, the effect can be a little and
probably unwittingly one of caricature, especially as he only slightly adapts
some features in order to achi eve a kind of resemblance to the model. TIll'
sculptures are expressive compared to many of these paintings which an'
mute.
On 27 May I919, he ftnall y received his papers and four days later hl'
decided to return to Paris. Jeanne stayed behind in Nice. She was pregnalll
agam.
His reaction to Paris must have been one of rel ief. 'I'm gett ing fat and
becoming a respectable citizen at Cagnes-sur-mer. I'm going to have tWIl
kids. It's unbelievable, it's sickening', he told Marevna Vorobev.
Family responsibilities had become a ftrm reality in his life, inescapabk
sa ve for a brief period alone in Pari s, when he could once more savour all
illusion of independence. He threw himsel f into wor k with all
unprecedented fervour . He met Luni a again. With habitual discretion, she
s;:)ys that they met often, and he frequentl y depicted her.
Aftcr dinlllT, we would go for walks in the Pet it Luxembourg; that summer,
it was parti cularly hot. Sometimes, we went to the cinema; otherwise Wl'
would stroll ;lCroSS Paris. One da y he took me to a funfair to show me 'La
I XH
138 Lunia CzechoUiska, 1919
GOllIllC', OllCC Toulouse-Lautrec's favourite model, who was performing ill
a c lge \\11th wild beasts. This reminded him of earlier times and for a 10111'.
he spoke of this period, its painters and its cel ebrities, aU famous
W C w()uld very often go for long walks. We would rest on a small wall in till"
L lI xl' lllbourg gardens. He had so much to sa y that we would never leaV\'
(, ;Ieli ot her. He spoke about Italy which he would never see again, about hi\
cJ,lIl ghtcr who he would never watch growing up but he never said a word
,Ibulit his art.
There is a romantic, poetic Modigliani who is lovingly remembered by ;J
number ofhighly educated, sensitive women; none ofthese were French, bUI
Russian, English, Canadian, Polish and Swedish, and Modi gliani showed
them the nostalgicjin-de-siecle Paris that had initially drawn him there. Thl'
138 most beautiful portrait o f Lunia must be the hieratic portrait of 1919. III
essence it is very similar to the profile views ofJeanne, but whereas in her cas('
the distortions cross the narrow borderline into caricature, they now
emphasize the sitter's aris tocratic mien; Lunia looks inwards, all the
of her face harmonize delicately, with the grace of Nefertiti. Anna Akil
matova had also been dravvn like an Egyptian queen, eight years before.
Luni a's memoirs are not really specific as to her true feelings or theil
relationship. Now that her husband was dead, she did not give herself to
Modigliani, out of respect for Jeanne she says, and this resistance (exceptional
in his long sentimental career) continued to attract him. But the tern ptatioll
to cede to her own desires must have been a permanent torment to her.
although she would not admit to it. When she started going out with anotilci
man, Modi gliani was j ealous of the feelings she might have for him.
Modigliani 'reproached me for thi s so much that I began to feel guilty towards
him; I had to remain his spiritual friend and that was my destiny. I was young
and probably over-romanti c, and I had to suppress my feelings as another
man needed me. I .had no experience of life and I simply followed my
instincts; so I forced myself not to love the man I had just met. '
There are three recli ning nudes of 1919, thinly painted in more muted
colours, and curiously chaste in their passivit y and lack of detail ; they appear
to show the same model, although he changes her colouring in each painting;
one of them, bl onde and blue-eyed, is awake and curiously resembles Lunia.
Whatever happened, Luni a in her discretion would never have told anyone.
There is a possibility that she did pose, or, more likely, that this is a visual
expression of Modigliani's desire - and perhaps hers too. The situation was
unbea rable for her, and shortly aft erwards she left for the South of France,
a ppa rell t1y for health reasons. The Zborowskis sugges ted that Modigliani, ill
need or a rcst, go with her; but Jeanne wo uld no t hear of it, and her alarm
Illay well ha ve beenjustified.
1t)2
141 Lunia Czechowska with Fan, 19 19
There are two portraits where Lunia sits in the Zborowski living-room
which waspaperedindeepred,withNapoleonicfurniture. Nowshepeersat
llS through amask-likeface; itsshapeis echoedbythetriangleof heracutely
141 slopedshoulders.Thepaintings,especiallytheoneillustratedhere,appearto
be built up from overlapping surfaces like stage sets. Some ofthe later
portraits of Hanka and Jeanne are constructed in the same way, as if
Modiglianinowhadresortedtoapre-establishedformulafor portraitsinthe
grandmanner.Thedifference betweenthelateLuniasandthelateHankasis
notwhatdistinguishes their personalitiesbuta purelystylisticone.Hankais
J39 painted with even greater precision and illusionistic depth than Lunia; her
face appears like a three-dimensional polished metal sculpture, a kind of
elongated Brancusi, features tightlycompressed. When the last portraitsof
thetwowomenare viewed together, onecan see how the face gets thinner
andthepaintingmoremannered,as if eachactual portraithad posedforthe
succeedingone: the effect is hallucinatory.
By now Modigliani was becoming well known, his pictures selling at
respectable prices. In the summerof1919, Zborowski arranged a show of
FrenchartattheMansardGalleryinLondonwiththehelpof OsbertSitwell,
where Modigliani's pictures got favourable reviews in the press, and a
portraitofLuniasoldforthehighestpricein theshow(a recordsumof I ,000
francs); itwasboughtbyArnoldBennett,whosaidthatsheremindedhimof
his heroines. About that time, an important article appeared on him in a
review publishedin Geneva calledL'Eventail. It waswr{ttenverysensitively
byCarco,andModiglianisentacopyofittohis mother. It promptedafew
Swiss collectors to buy, especially with the favourable rate ofexchange.
Onesignof successwas thathe couldsell paintingsthatwerenotportraits
ofthebuyers;nudesapart,thisisdocumentedbythefact thatthepaintingsof
1918onwardsaremainlyof unknownpeoplewhocouldneverbeconsidered
as potentialbuyers,orofthoseclosesttohimwhomhepaintedrepeatedlyon
an organized basis. Most of the time now he exercised his talents at
portraitureincafes, as thedrawingsofJacob,UtrilloandPicasso,all ofI919,
show. Itis also possiblethatthesesittersmaynothavebeenableto partwith
thesumswealthycollectorswerewillingtopayfortheirportraits,andthatit
is for this reason that Zborowski preferred him to paint the eminently
saleableportraitsof his femaleenvironment.Asanartdealer,his concernhad
to be money, but although he tried to, he could neither stop Modigliani
(i-Olll giving his drawings away, norcould he get him to increase his now
deriso ryaskingpriceoffive francs. TheGarsindistaste for moneyneverleft
him.
Success did not,couldnotchangeModigliani.WhenfamecameSoutine's
W;IY, hL" III(lvvd totheCrillonandworesilkunderwear;buthewasstillafraid
I\!4
IlW<.I'i:,
r 42Jeanne Hebuterne, 1919
towash. MOc1igliani hadneverreally knowntotal poverty. Inhis case it was
morea questionofchoosing to spend the greaterpartofhis allowance and
incomeonescapist narcotics; he did notownanythingthatcouldindicatea
changeoffmancialstatus,andheevenbrokeupvariouscopiesofhisprecious
Lautreamont into more portable sections. His standard ofliving hardly
changed, except that onJeanne's return in June, they moved to a studio
apartmentat8, ruedela GrandeChaumierewhichHankaandLuniacleaned
and painted. Jeanne wept with joy: it was their fmt home. The studio,
195
compllSL'ci ofthree small rooms, was on the third floor, justabove that of
Ortiz de Z;lrate. Ortiz brought up the coal once a week and frequently
carried Modiglianiupthestairsatnightwhen,deaddrunk,hehadcollapsed
;It La two streets away. The second-floor studio had once been
(;;llI)';lIlll'S, whichhe hadoccupied with Ana, theJavanese girl. Modigliani
p:lllltL'l1 sections of his walls in brightGauguinredsandoranges, perhapsin
IllS honour, and theseservedas backgrounds for his paintings.
Jeanne seems to have been incapable oflooking after their baby; it was
decidedtofmdherawet-nursetolookafterit in thecountry. In Paris, little
Giovanna was cared for by Lunia who says that Modigliani often came to
peerat his child at night. Sometimes, totally drunk, hewould appearwith
Utrilloandask tosee her, thenLuniawouldsay thatshewasasleepandthat
they mustbequiet, and Modiglianiwouldsit in thestreetjustto be nearhis
daughter. When he made too much ofa fuss, Zborowski would switchall
thelightsoffinthe JosephBaraapartmenttopretendtheywereoutorasleep,
but Lunia says that her heart went out for Modigliani and, had she been
alone, she would have opened the door to him. Modigliani was aware of
Jeanne's limitations when he entrusted the upbringing ofGiovanna to his
familyinItaly;of thetwo,hewasmoreofaparent.Thequestionof marriage
loomed large, as a document shows that he pledges to marry 'Jane [5ic]
Hebuterne';althoughhewasanotoriouslybadspeller,oneimaginesthathad
he cared about herjust a little more, he might have spelt his prospective
wife's nameright.
AndJealme was pregnant, which may explain the attempted rush to the
142 altar. Theportraitsshowhermoresubmissivethanever,akindof sacrificial
animal. Modigliani paintsherwith a kindof vengeful cruelty, rejectingher
oncanvas.
146 Whenhe paints her as beautiful, it is less for her own sake than for the
symbol of maternity which he has come to respect. There is one
140 magnifIcently lyrical portrait ofJeanne at a fairly advanced stage of
pregnancy,whereshewearsavividstripedsash whichaccentuateshershape;
the pose is frontal andshe tilts herhead tooneside; it is painted in tones of
apricotand auburn, line and colour merge in a harmonious ensemble, and
Jeanneattains thegravity and grandeurof a Venetian Madonna. Theirlife-
style didnotchange from the timewhen they werelivinginhotels.Jealme
neverwasmuchofahousewife,andavisitornotedthethicklayerofdustand
cigaretteash onthefloorof thestudio;whenthelatterofferedtosweepitup,
Modigliani refused. Towards the end he could not bear even the slightest
disturbJnce II1 his environment. He carried on eating in small restaurants,
orlate-nightsnack-bars. Hewouldputmoundsofsaltand pepper
Oil his place because otherwisehe couldnottaste thefood; hesmoked more
I
143 Self-portrait, 1919
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144Jeannc Hebuterne, j\;lodigliani Reading in Bed, 1919
and more and would make himself cough, especially in public places: he had
an impressive consumptive cough, the Romantic death-cry par excel/ence,
143 His one and only self-portrait, painted in 1919, is probably the most
negative statement about himselfhe could possibly make, in that it does not
express anything at all, not even his talent. His thin face is a hollow mask with
blank eyes, his inner concentration has gone; it has the phosphorescent
beauty of death, in that his youthful good looks have reappeared, but pale
and lifeless; a kind of Dorian Gray in reverse, He sits huddled in a rust jacket,
a blue shawl knotted round his neck, it is winter. The palette is a tiny abstract
painting in its own right, showing a whirlwind of yellows, ochres, white and
hl:ick, There are no surviving painted portraits of Modigliani by other
.Irrisrs; the documents we have are mainly very posed photographs, showing
111111 ;J swagger Bohemian; a kind of superstitious fear stopped him from
pusilll-'. "()r them, lest they paint the haggard brutal reality. All his life, he kept
Ilghl COllI 1'0] over his public image and would not have welcomed visual
rl.: lllllld\'lS of how transparent it had become. Jeanne's drawings of him
1./ ./ rL'sclllhk Ihe authorized photographs: she had chosen to love the heroic
U.. \JL:J1liall, :lIId the greater part of the Modigliani legend has grown out of
lin visiull oj hlllL
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145 Paulette jourdain, 1919
Thl' styk of the very last paintings is hermeti c; the sittersappear to be
imll)()\'; ,bk, III onumental in their still ness, whereas the curved, oftell
<"v li'Hiri, ,01 s p ~ e in which they are compressed fl ows fr om ei ther side ,This
W ;}S d, \' style that so influenced the Art Deco painters.
i': 'llleneJourdain was the fourt een-year-old maid of the Zborowskis; in
i:ltl'r Yl'Jrs, she was to bear Zbo's child. Modi gli ani was gen tle, even
cOllSiderate to her. Yet now Modigli ani is no longer interested in painting
lhe ll JSCent womanhoodofthe sitter- in fact the fi nished result resembles
1.;5 moreherappearanceofa few yearslater. Sheappearsto be lit from within ,
theivorystarknessofherface andarmiscontrastedwithherbl ack dress and
the red and orange background; she glows with the strength and self-
sufficiency ofa mysteriousidol. All the.very last portraitshave thisquality.
147, 148 In thepor traits ofMario Var vogli andtheverylastoneofJeanneheposes
hissittersin aSshapewhich relievestheseverityof thefr ontal pose. Thelast
146 portrait ofJeanne shows unique understanding ofher helpl essness; she is
dressed in pastel tones a littl e like an eighteenth-century shepherdess; she
appears obli vious to everything outside their relationship, even the child
which is about to be born. For once Modigliani has painted her with
immense tendemess, vergingon pity,
Varvogli was a Greek musician who was Modi gl iani's last drinking
companiononNewYear's Eve 19 19;hewas probabl ysomeone'vvhodidnot
know him well enough to realize he was dying and to attempt to curb his
drinking - which may be one reason why Modi gliani appreciated his
148 company; his initial drawings showhim experimenting with the pose and
even maki ng a separate st udy of the hands. He hasdepi cted him as a tired
147 libertine, resting a little wearily, still in hi s evening cl othes, his bow-tic
drooping, features strained, earl y morning stubbl e, Unusually fo r this
period,Modigli anihas givenhimtheattributesofperception:onebl ankeye
looki ng inwards, the other looking straight out. Maybe aft er all Varvogli
understood exactl y what was happening ari.d also knew thatnothing could
be done to stop Modi glianifollowing to theend the course hehad chosen.
At the end ofhis career Modi gli ani was painting symbols ofhumanit y,
.i li st JS he had at the very beginning, but in astrong cl assici zing style o fhis
OWIl ,whi ch was to be vul gari zed thro ugho ut the 1920S. Now Modigli ani's
:lw:llti veness tohissittershad finall ygone; hisuni queability tocapturetheir
ill dividl.l ;]li ty and to translate this intui tive understanding into paint had
flll:dI y di sa ppeared.Becauseof theinnumerablerebuffs hehadreceivedinhis
lif,:llId hi\everincreasing use ofnarcoti cs andalcohol,hehad progressively
di sl:lIl Cl'dilimscl ffromhisfellowhuman beings,evenSoutine. Henowli ved
o ut hi s 1L' ];l l iOllships from within, on a mythi cal level, without really
:llt 'cllIptillf!; :I two-way communication; as Lunia points out, he had an
2 0Ci
146 J eanne Hebll lem e, 19 19
147 1\110rio Varv ogli, 1920
148 Mario Varvogli, I 920
incessant need to talk about himself (and at the same time demandeJ 11111
attention), and this self-absorption is indi cated by the monotony of hi s
portraits: if the sitters look alike, it is precisely that their differences no
longer matter, except very occasionall y. It is what they have in common as
human types that he portrays at the end of hi s life: their grace, their fra gilit y,
their silence, their essential absurdit y. No criticism, no derision. The human
being has become the motif, the challenge is no longer the sitter but the
painting. Modi gliani has become the vi ctim of his genial facility of
stylization which he applies now in a uniform manner, and this may be why
the late paintings are so popular - they are so recognizably ' Modigliani'. The
idi osyncrasies. used judiciously before. appear together like the unavoidable
components of a fi xed formula; it is not altogether surprising that for gers
prefer to exercise their talent s on the late works.
2 0
3
There Illus t have been a moment when Modigliani saw with great cl arity
the: <ll '; I" m<l hi s art was heading for, and this must have terrifIed him. He
J l 1 ~ I \ 1t ,1\'" predicted this years before, which would explain his slow suicide.
\X/ irlt :t precise knowl edge of hi s inner desiccation, he could not take any
risks. ("\pecially that of abstaining from drugs and drink, as ifhe were afraid
rll :ll without them he might not repea t the miracle of producing pictures. It is
lIor that he could paint only under their influence: he was afraid that any
challge 111 his internal chemistry would disrupt the delicate mechanism that
mJde him create art works, now that the essential impetus had come from
himself and infinitely less than befor e from the sitter - and his portraits are as
a result depersonalized. He maintained his internal balance with hashish, gin,
cocaine, brandy, but this is not, despite all that has been said, the real tragedy
of his life. The tragedy resides in the lack of recognition in his own lifetime
149 and his pitiful need for it more than anything else.
Modigliani's health was becoming distinctly worse; his instinct for
survival had manifested itself in the autumn by a short letter to his mother,
where he appeared to be thinking of coming to Italy for a time; but now he
no longer wrote home, and hi s general behaviour could now only precipitate
his end. He would stay the whole night at La Rotonde, drinking
continuously, wander about in the icy cold in his shirtsleeves, refusing to
\Near a coat, as if to defy fate. When Zbo timidl y suggested he look after
himself, Modigliani would turn on him as if he were his worst enemy and
demand sharply that he stop moralizing. But he would never complain.
About ten days before his death, Modi gliani was stricken with violent pains in
the kidneys and took to his bed; Zbo was ill and could not visit him. A few
days later, Ortiz de Zarate, who had been away, decided to call on him with
Kisling, and there, horrifIed, they discovered Modigliani dying, delirious in
bed, complaining of extreme headache. Jea nne was sitting beside him
silently, just watching; she had not thought of sending for the doctor. The
mattress was littered with empty bottl es and half-opened tins of sardines
dripping with oil. He was coughing up blood and the studio was freezing; on
the easel, the still damp portrait of Varvogli. When the doctor arrived, he
declared that Modigliani was dying of tubercular meningitis. Ortiz de
/.;\ r :IIC carried him downstairs, and he was taken to hos pital where he became
1IIl cOIIscioL.1s. He died at 8.50 on Saturday evening, 24January 1920, without
J"cgailllll K conscIOusness.
Whi k he still had a fraction ofhis wits about him, he is said to have uttered
citlH:r: 'Itlllly have a fragment of my brain left' or 'Cara cara Itali a' (Beloved
hclnvnl Ica ly) or (referring to Jeanne) 'we have made an eternal pact' or 'I
ka VI: YOII SOIlLill e' . Writers, depending on whether they are friends, Italians,
rolll;lIlti cs or Slllltine researchers, quote one or other ofthese last phrases. All
2UI I
149 The last known photograph of Modi gliani , L 191 9 -20
are relevant as they throw different light on the Modigliani legend, which
grew to gigantic proportions (as did the prices of his paintings) exactly two
days after hi s death.
On the Sunday,Jeanne went to see the body; she gazed at it for a long time
and walked OUt backwards, in silence, to keep this last image ofhim forever.
The next day her parents took her home, and banished her to a maid's room on
the fIfth floor. Her brother Andre stayed with her all night, because she was
afraid ofbeing left alone, afraid ofcarrying out a resolution she had made a long
time before; but she still kept a kIli fe under her pillow. She was, after all, nine
months pregnant . When, towards morning, Andre dozed off, she found her
courage and, driven fmall y perha ps by her parents' hostility, threw herselfout
205
of the wIndow. Andre' s fmt thought was that the tiny corpse, hideously
Illtltil:Itl' d, wo uld alarm his mother and he begged a workman to wheel it to
studio, where it remained all morning beca use th e concierge of
tiwir OWIl house refused it entrance. When the studio was cleared up, drawings
hy Jnllll e were found, in whi ch she depicts herself with long braids, piercing
ill"\' hreast wi th a dagger.
'LI my him like a Prince ', Emanuele telegraphed. The procession was
ell ormous; the poli cemen who had arrested him so many times on charges of
di sorderl y conduct took their hats off to him as it passed; the funeral hearse
was covered with a mound of flowers ; it was solemnl y followed by nearl y
every artist in Paris, including Picasso, Soutine, Lege r, Ki sling, Ortiz de
Zarate, Lipchit z, Derain, Survage, Severini, Fo ujit a, Utrillo, Valadon,
Vlamin ck, as well as the poets, Jacob, Salmon, and his close friends (not
Lunia, who was away). A rabbi said prayers over his grave. Modigliani's
death shook everyone, especiall y the art is ts for whom it was a personal
tragedy: the struggle for survival in a savage lU1 poeti c society or the luck to
be in a position to ft ght back; each one was burying a fra gment of their
struggles at Pere Lachaise that day, resol ved perhaps never to let this happen
to them.
Jeanne was hurriedly buried by her fa mil y in a forl o rn cemetery near
Bagneux. Zborowski , Salmon, Chana Orloff, and Kisling accompanied
them in taxis. It was onl y ft ve years later that her famil y relented and allowed
Emanuele to rebury her besid(" Modi gli ani at Pere Lachaise, and he inscribed
on their tomb 'Finally they sleep together' .
Modi gliani's paintings, drawings and sculptures had an extraordinary fat e
in terms of influence, specul ation and legend-making. The speculators
rej oiced. Right at the end of his life, Modi gliani's paintings averaged 1 50
francs; ten years later the pri ces soared to around 500,000 francs, and
ever yone who had ever met him was busil y engaged on writing their
memoirs; many others tore their hair out as they remembered the paintings
and drawings they had destroyed or despised (not least Rosalie); as many of
the dra wings were unsigned anyway, Modigliani 's ofiicial dealers actuall y
authori zed an able for ger to imitate his signature on the drawings they
h3l1dkd , because the pri ces they fet ched were then much hi gher.
Ilow Modigliani would have sco rned this! One da y at La Rotonde, he
d rnv tlIe portrait ofan American lady; she insisted that he si gn it , because she
had hea rd somewhere that signed works were much more valuable.
looked her straight in the eye, then took his pencil and wrote
his \laIlle 011 the drawing in huge capital letters, like an advertisement, right
across her ( ICC .
..0(,
Bibliography
List of ill ustrations
Index
Bibliography
I h:\ve ,elected some ofthe works that have
[In'l\ I\\ost useful to me and that would best
help .1 student researching the period, to-
gether with those referred toin the text.
t CATM.OGUES Of MODtGLIANt'S WORK
Ambr ogio Ccroni, London and
New York 1959.
Jacques L1JlthemJJlJ1, Cataloglle faisolllle de
l'iI?lwre de lVlodiglinni, Barcelona 1970.
2 BIOGR,WHt ES AND STUDtES
Giovanni Scheiwill er, Modiglial/i, Milan
1927
Jacques Lipchitz , ivlodigliani, New York
t952, London 1953.
Gott hardJedlicka, ZLirich 1953.
Andre Salmon, La Vie pas"iolm ee de Madi
gliolli, Paris 195T trs. as il1odigliani, a
Mellloir, LondonJnd New York 196t.
Jeanne Modigliani, lHodiglial1i: i\1all al1d
!\1ylh, London and New York T959.
Alfred Werner, Modiglial1i dIe Scnlplor, New
York 1902.
AnnaAkhmatoYa, Ti,e oFTillle, Moscow
1965 (includes her study 01\ Modigli al\i).
Pierre Sichel. Modigliani, London and New
York 1907 .
William FifIeld, Mod(gliolli: Ihe BiogropllY,
New York 1976, LOl\don 1978.
Jl ;\( 'J{( ;HOUND READINC
(:11.11 k \ Picrre.: Baudelaire, Les Paradis arti
.I111r!\, P.1ris 1860.
!I t"' Lllltrc::tm Ollt , i rs ellall'" de
;\1Id,I., t,I' , 1),lris JR69; trs. in /v[(/Idoror al7d
/J,Jl'lIl.f , I 0 11111111 ;lIld N ew York 1978.
/\11111'(' \ :\I ,l r I IlH I. Lcs Bcrccal/x de In jewle
I'I'II/(UI'(,: i\ /"lIfI}lIlr1fC - Pa ri s
1' ) ,.:. \ .

AdolpheBasler ,CArl chez les pellpic.< primilir"
Pari s t929.
Nina Hamnett , Lallgllillg Torso, London and
New York t 932.
Fern;1nd c O livier, Picasso er scs (1J1Ji ... , Pari,
1933; trs. as PiU1550 (1lla his Friena:;, Londoll
1964
Berthe Weill, Pan dans I'(f!il', Paris 1933.
Charles Douglas, Arlisls' QII"rlcr: Rel"i"i.'
C('I1CC.' of }\1Ol"lt lll artre a1ld A;folltparfl(1ssc in tllf'
Firsl Two Decades of Ihe T'I'e"lielh Celllllf)',
Londo n t941.
Gino Severini , TIIUa Ifl ll i/ a di 1111 pittorc, Milall
1946.
AugustusJohn,Frog",elll,' ofal1 Alllobiog ral'll)"
London 1952.
Mi chel Georges-Michel, De Rflloir aPica.'.''''
P,uis 1<)54; (!"S. ;1 S From Renoir to Pica..;so:
Artin ... [ H(wr Knoflln, London and Bosto Jl
t957.
Andre Level, SOIlIJcllirs (rllll w llect iol1 ll l' lIr.
Pati s 1959.
Gabriel Fournier, COl'S dc c/J(1SSC 191 2-5 .1.
Geneva 1957.
John Go lding, CubisJIJ! a HislOry alia till
AJ1a/ysi.' 1907-1914, London 1959, Ne\\'
York 1972.
JJ ya Ehrcnburg, People OIld Lije 1891-1921,
London 1961, New York 1962.
Jean-Pierre Crespellc, A10lltparllassc vivan,.
Pari s 1962.
Barbara Tuchman, Ti,e Prolld Tower: ... 1
Portroil 0/ lire World Before Ihe Wm
1890- 1914, Londo n and New York 1966.
OssipZa dkine, Le Moillel elle ci.<eoll, .<otIvCllir.'
de 1110 vie, Pari s 1968.
John Berger , Tile MOl'llelll of Cll bism 01/11
Oil,er ;soys, London 1969.
Maria (Marevna) Vorobcv, Lije IIlillr Ih, '
Poillier.' Of La Rile/, e, London In2.
A.E. Elscn, Origills of i\10dew Swlptllre , Lon-
don and NewYork 1974.
4 CONTEMPORARY WRITtNGS
Guillaume Apollinaire, Alcools, Paris 1913;
English trs., London and Atlantic High-
lands 1975; ZOI1C tr s. separately by Samuel
Beckett , London 1972.
--Apollil/(1ire 011 Art: Essays alia Rel1icIIIs
1902-191 8, Londo n and New York 1972.
Blaise Cendra (S, Pro se till Trol1ssiberiell cl de 10
pClil ej eO/we de Frollce, Pari s t<)t4
--, Lc Pnll(f11l(f Off les (lI1(,Ul lfres dc IIlCS :;epr
Ollc/CS, Paris l SH 4 ; trs, as Pal/nil/a, or TI ll"
AaIJClltllfCS oI III ), SCIICII Uncles, London ,-t lld
New Yor k 1931-
Bcatrjce Hasrings, :trcich.:s from T Il e New ARC,
London 1914, 1915.
MaxJacob, Le Comel ades, Paris 1916.
, La De/ell sc de Tarrrijc, Paris 1919.
Edward F. Fry, C III}i slIl , London and New
York 1966 (includ es C ubi sr manifestos).
FilippoMarinetti ,Se lcered Wrilillgs (cd. R.W.
Flint)' London and New York 197"
...
...
+'ft#-
..
'1-
0
<' ...
..

209
Listofillustrations
,\ I, 'l l ,"/!JIl lIII.' Ille ill ;I/dtl alld(Cnrimftrc.'.
I" ,,,',;,,,, " 'I dlli.
1"'lIli 'pi,cc'. Ros<' Carynrid (L' .4"dcl rc). c.
'V 13. Cr<1yoll ;md gOLJ:lche. x 17
( )X x NononGallery,ndSchool of
An, West Beach, Florida
Modi ghani as a schoolboy (front row,
rhi rd fr om righr). Phorogra ph. Privare
Collection
2 COllllfry Road. (. 189V. Oil on board, 8{
x (21 X36). Museo Civico Gio-
vJllni Livorno
Pom'air 0( a Yo"ng Bo)' (Gugli el mo
Mi cheli ',son' ).(. 1900. Oil o n can vas.
(60x35) . Priva re Collecrion.
Photo tvlusC'o Civico Giovanni Fa[[ori.
Li vorno
4 PABLO PI CASSO [ HS [- [973 Hoi), COIII -
HIIJI/;O'-' , L896. Oil o n GlIl vas. 65,*X 461
( [ 66 x [1 8). Pi casso Museum, Da r-
cel ona.Phoro Mas
Self-portrail (,), r. J900. C harcoa l.
Whereabo uts unknown
6 UBERTO MONOOLFI and .\\() I)l GLJ ANI
Slte/villg-slalld, 1898. Oil on wood. 27-l
XIl k (70X30). Pri va re Collecri on.
Phoro Museo C,V,CO GiovJnnl Fattori,
Livofno
7 Modigliani as an adokscc' nr. Pho ro-
graph . Pri va re Coll ecri on
Fa!ti" MOL/roller,(. 1905. Pasrelon paper,
[[ 1 (40X29) Ga lleria Navigho,
Milan
9 The rue Lafme, 1908. Phorograph.
Bibliorhcque Narionale, Pari s
10 MAURIU L""<lLLO [88J-1955 U Lapill
Axile, Iyoy. Oil 0 11 canvas,
(50x (5). M"s,'c' C,lvet, Avignon
J. I ()
II Scaled Flgllre, 1907/08. Pencil ;lI i,]
char coal, u{- x (3 Ix 20). Pri ".II,
Collecrion
12 rluovar, 1909. Blue crayon. Itl "
(44 x 25'5) Privare Collecrion
13 P,IBLQ PICASSO 1881- 1'173 Li(e(La Vi<,)
Oil on canvas, 77! x 501 ( IY7 x 127.n
Th" Cleveland Museum of An, girl "I
I1.\1111 a Fund
14 j\:lfde, 1908. Oil o n GH1VaS, 28ixII, a
(73x 50). Pr ivare Collecri on
15 B II SI oj(J vi/oll/al/, 1908. Oi l on (;111 \1 ,1', .
22 X21 g(56 x 55). Privare Coll ecrion
16 Nllde. [ 908. Oil on canVJS, \
(box 54). Pri vare Collecrion
[ 7 i'v[alld Ahrallte, (') (reverse of ill. lOj,
[908. Oil 011 canvas, x 19J(60x 50).
Priva re Collecrion
[8 Sludy<10 .\:ude, 1908. Oiloncanvas.3I,',
X211 COLlrtlsy Riel"",1
Narhanson, An Consulran r, London
19 PABLO PICASSO I SS 1-1')73 Le.< n..
IJ/Cli.\d/f ." d' :4vigll(ltl, 1907. Oil on(:1 11\',1'0,
96x 92 (244 x 233) T he Muse um " I
Modern Art, New Yor k, acq ui n' ']
rhrough rhe Lilli eP. l3li ss Bequesr
20 HWH[ ,ll,1nSSE [ 869- [954 Bill e 1\'11, 1<' ,
[907 Oil on canvas, 36-lx 44k (,)2-"
112). The Balrimore Museum ofArl .
rhe Cone Coll ecti on, formed by 1),
Clairbcl Cone and Mi ss Erra Conc' ..I
Balrimore, Mar yland
21 PAUL CEZANNE [S3()- 1906 Youllg Mall i/l
aRed IVai.'tcoat,[ 893- 95. Oil oncanv,''.
(8')SX723). Mr and MI'
Paul Mell on Coll ect ion
22 TlteJ ell'6.', [908. Oil On canvas, 2[t
[ 8 (54'5x 46). Pri va re Coll ecri on
2J Palll Alexandre, [909. Pencil, 13j}X 10k
(34 x 26). Private Coll ecri on
24 Portrail of Paul Alexalldre OJI a BroJlln
Backgrolllld, [909. Oil on canvas, x
3 8 [). Privare Coll ecri on
25 Portrait of Pall! Alexandre Oil a Green
Barkgrolllld, [ 909. Oil on ca nvas, x
(rooxS[ ). Pri va re Coll ecti on
26 Palll Alexalldre, [913.Oi loncanvas,3[1
x [ 8 (80x 45'5) Privare Coll ecti on
27 Jeall Ale:calldre, 1909 Oiloncanvas, 3[i
x (8Ix 60). Private Coll ecti on
28 L'Amazone, 1909. Oil on canvas, 36l
x (92 x 65) Alexander Lewyr Col-
lecri on
29 Tlte Be,egar of LivOl'lleJ, 1909. Oil Oil
ca nvas, 26x 233 (66x 59), Privare Col-
lecti on
30 St/ldy Jor The Celli.<l, 1909. Oil on
canvas, 29kx 23Y (74x 60). Privare
Collecri on
31 CONSTANTIN BRANCUSI 1876-1957Head,
1908. Plasrer CJsr, hr I (29.8). Musce
Nari onal d'Art Moderne, Paris. Ph oro
Reunion des Musces Nari onaux , Pari s
32 Bralleu.'i (reverse ofill. 30), 1909. Oil
skerch, 29tx (74x 60). Privarc
Collecri on
33 Head, [9[0-1r. Limesrone. hr 18 (46).
Musee Narional d' Arr Modcrnc, Paris.
Phoro Reuni on des Musccs Nari onaux,
Paris
34 Head, 1911. Li mesrone, hr 24 (6 1). Tare
Gall ery, Lo ndon
35 Head, [912. Srone, hr251(65). Narional
Gall er y o f An, Washingro n D.C.
36 Head, [9[3-14. Marbl e, hr 201 ()2'5)
Pri vJ[c Coll ccrion
37 WILLI AM lEHMBI\UCK 1881- /919 Fal/ell
Youth, 19 [ 5- [ 6. Cemenr. Lehmbruck
Museum, Duisburg
38 CONSTANTI N BRANCUSI 1876- [ 957 The
Kiss, 1911 .Srone,hr 23 (585). Philadel-
phia Museumo fAn ,Loui se and Walrer
A rensbe rg Coll ecrio n
39 Modigli ani wir h Adolphe Basler J r rh,'
Do me, (. 191 9. Pho rograph . Phoro
Museo Civico Giovan ni Farro ri , Li v-
orl1 o
40 Mask fro m rhe Ivor y Coasr. Wood.
Formerl y in rhe Paul Guill aume Col-
Iecrion. Fro m Adolphe Basle r, L'Al'l
Cltez Ie.' Pel/pie.' Prilllirifs, 1926
4[ NudeWillt AFi(anStat ue,(. 19 [3. Pencil ,
8;\ (26'7x 21). Pri va re Coll ecri on
42 Head Ivitll al1 Abacus, [ 9[[ - 12. Pencil ,
[ 7x [ oJ(4 3x 26). PrivareColl ect ion
43 Head witlt a Nil1lh, (. [<) [0. Charcoal,
(33 SX263). Kupfersr ich-
kabine rr , Basle
44 Standing WOlllan (Afriran Drawing),
19[0-[I. Pencil and charcoal, 17x 1O-}
(43 x 26). Privare Coll ecri on
45 Stal1dillg Caryat id, 19[1-12. Oil skerch
on boa rd, x [8i (S3 x 48) . Pri va re
Coll ecri on
46 Stal1dil1g Caryatid, 19[2. Srone, hr 6)
([60). Priv,He Coll ecrion
47 Crouchil7g Caryatid (preliminar y draw-
ing for ill. 50), 19[0-1L Pencil and
charcoa l, 13 x 10k (33 x 26). Privare
Coll ecri on
48 Caryatid, C. 191). Warercolour, 20kX
[6j: (53 x 42). Pr iv;r re Collecrion
49 Caryatid, (. 19'3-15. PJsrei and crayon
wirh wash. 2%x 19 (53 x 48'2). Muscc
d'An Modern c de la Ville de Par is.
Phoro Giraudon
50 Crol/ clt il1g Caryatid, 19I3. Limesrone, hr
36t(92). The Muse um ofModern An,
New York, Mrs Simon Guggenheim
Fund
5[ CONSTANTIN URANCUsr 1876-1957 Pro-
lIIetltells, 1911. Gilded bronze,L7(17.6).
Privare Coll ecr ion. Phoro Solomon R.
Guggenheim Muse um, New York
52 CONSTANTIN URANCUSl 1876-1957 Por-
rrail oJa WOl1lal1, (. 19 15 . Oil on paper
laid on canvas, 24tx (61'2x )9'3).
Counesy David Grob, London
2IT
53 11,'"d ("<'V<'l" 5L' "f ill .54),1913. Stone, ht
.'..'. ' .jl,). MlI 5l'e Nati una l d'An Mod-
t T111', Phoro court esy [he Jur hor
j ' l 11(" ld, 1')1]. Stone, ht 22 (56) . Muscr
",11 i"",11 d'An Moderne, Pari s. Photo
ltl-Ullioll dC5 Musces NarionJux.Paris
;.\ lI'dd, IVI2- 13. Limes tone, ht 2S (71).
l)rivJtl' Coll ccrion
':;(1 CAIHllEL FOl'R;-.J ltR At La R%l1de, 19]6.
Pl'll Jnd ink
57 Advcrri scmcnts. From l"Jontparnt1.,sc,
19, 1923. Photo Eileen Tweedy
58 G.lillmllne Apollillaire, 1915. Penci l, IsJ
x (39X26'5). Private Collection
59 Picasso,1915. Pencil and pai nton paper,
13:}X IO} (35 x 27). Whereabout s un-
known
60 Frank Burly Havilaud, 19Q. O il on
paper, x (72'5 x 59'5). Mattioli
Collection
61 DI[GO RIVERA 18S6-1957 Self-portrait,
1918. Pencil , 131X9H.l5x 24). Private
Collecti on
62 Diego Rill'era (s tudy for il l. 65), c. 1914.
Pencil, (345X225). Private
Collection
63 Diego Rivera(s tudy for ill. 65), c. 191 4.
Pencil and ink, Io-} X8 (20X20). Cour-
tesy the An Ins tituteofChicago,gift of
Mr and Mt s Wesley M. Di xo nJr , 1967
04 Diego Rivera (studyforill. 65), 1914. Oil
on ca nvas, 39JX31!\' ( IOOX79). Museu
de Ande Sao Pa ulo
65 Di ego Rivera, 1914. Oiloncmvas,39Jx
3Ii(100x SI). Private Collecrion
66 Henri Lm"ells, 1915 . Oll on canvas, 3It
x 23i(SI x 00). Private Collect ion
07 jeanCocleau, 1910. Oi loncanvas, x
3 (IOO XSI). Pea rl man Collectio n
oK Moi:," 1915. Penci l,
(40x 24). PrintL' Collection
()C) /((/),III Ollcl J915. Oilon canvas,
I4 XI1,\ (J7".W) . PrivateCollect ion
2 12.
70 j acques Lipchitz (prepa rator y drawinl',
for ill . 73). c. 1916. Penci l. Pri V" IL'
Collection
7I jacqlles al/d Berllia Lipclli lZ (prepara tory
drawing for il l. 73), (. 1916. Pencil.
Privatc Cull ection
72 Bertha .Lil'chilz (preparatory
for ill. 73), (. 19I6. Pencil , 9x 60} (23 x
(6). Private Collection
73 ja(qlle.' and Bertha Lipcliilz, 1917.Oil' HI
canvas, 21 (80x53'3). Counes\'
t he Art Insti tute of Chicago, Helm
Bir ch Barrl ett Memor ial
74 Bealrice Hasl il/g., (Beala Ma trex), 1915.
Pencil , 2la X16i (54X 42). Pri v:Jl l'
Collect ion
75 Beatricr HtL.;rings as lv/adam POJ/1padOlll,
1915 Oil on canvas, '4x 19i (6. :',
50'4). Courtesy the Art InstitLJt e "I
Chicago
76 Bratrice 191). Oi l on canvas.
3 X11{(81 X)4). Private Collection
77 FRANCESCO PARMIGl t\NI NO 150]-.10
Madonna and Child lVilh Angel., (Ma.
donI/a del Colla Llll/go), (. 1535 (detail ).
Oil on wood, S5X 52 (110X 1]2).
Palazzo Pitti, Florence. Photo Alinari
78 Bea/rice Hasting., in all Arl/lc/Itlir, 19 1).
PetI cil, 161x lei (42 x 20'6). Privatt'
Coll ecti on
79 Bealr;" Ha"'ing.' (BeOirice), 19 15. Pencil ,
I5ix 10 (40'3x 25'4). Pr iva te Col-
lection
So Paul cuillaullle (Novo Pilota), 1915. Oi l
on canvas, 41 j x 291 ( 105x 75). Pr iva rl'
Collcnion. PhotoGiralldon
81 Celso Lagar, 19 15. Oi lon ca nvas, 134x
(35 x 27) Pr ivate Coll ection
S2 L'Arlequil'l (self-portrait'), 1915. Oil Oil
paper, 17x (43 x 27). StatclIS Mu-
seum fot Kunst, Copenhagen
S3 Adverti semellt. From Nord- Slid,
June-July 1917
84 Cltaiill SOI.aine, 1917. Pencil. Private
Collection
85 Chai;nSOlltine, 1915. Oil on canvas, 14k
x (36x 27'5). St aat sgalcri e, Stutt-
gart
86 A1ax jacob, 1916. Oil On canvas,
281x 23i (73 x 60) . Kllnstsammlung
Nordrhcin- West fa len, Dlissel dorf
87 The Bride and Croom, 19 15. O il 0 11
21'}X ISk (55'2X403). The
Museum uf Modern An, New York.
gift ofFrederick Clay Bartl ett
88 Monk (L'Estatiw), 19 16, Pencil , 17kx
l ot(43'5x 26). Priva te Coll ection
89 CTllci /ixiou (Christos), 1916. Penci l,
x (42x 17). Private Coll ect ion
90 Klleelillg WOlllall (Die; Irae, Die; IIIae),
19 18. Pencil. Priva te Coll ection
91 M,IX JACOB 1876-- 1944 Poem fro m L"
Laborafoire central, 1921.
92 Max jacob, 1915. Pencil , 15kx I
(3S'5 x 27'5). Pri va te Collection
93 Reclining Nude (Alma;:,a) (preparato ry
drawing fo r ill. 94),1916. Penci l, II }X
18{ (30X46). Priva te Collect ion
94 Reclining Nnde (Almai :' a) , 1916. Oil on
canvas, 31i x 4511 (SIXI16). Pri vate
Collecti on. Photo counesy Acq uavell a
Galle ti e, Inc. , New York
95 Life SlJi dy, (. 1917 Pencil , lot
(41x 26). Pri va te Coll ect ion
96 PABLO PICASSO 1881- 1973 Sttldyfor Ihe
Bather." 1915. Pencil , x 11a(24x 3I).
Courtesy the Fogg Art Muse um, Har-
vard Uni versit y, beguest o f Meta and
PaulJ Sachs
97 LifeStudy,1917 Pencil , 17kx 11(43'5x
2S). Pri va te Coll ecti on
98 Theda Bara in Cleopalm, 1915. Photo
99
Mary Pickford, (. 1918. Photo
100 TITl ,IN 1487/90--1576 VeI1t15 wilh tile
Organ-player, (. 1548 (detail ). Oi l o n
canvas, ( 148x117). Prado,
Madrid. Photo Mas
101 Reclining Nude, 1917. Oi lo ncanvas, 23t
x 36,} (60x 91). Staatsgalerie, Stuttgart
102 Seated Nude, 1917. Oi lOn canvas,
( 100x65). Private Collection
103 Reclining Nude, 1917. Oil on canvas,
(72'4X 11 6'5) Museum of
Modet n Art , New Yurk, Mrs Simon
Guggenheim Fund
104
Reclill iJ1g Nflfle, 1917. Oiloncanvas,
x 36-,\ (60x92). Mattioli Coll ect ion
105 Sealed Nllde, 1917. Oi lon canvas,
29k ( 11 4x 74). Koninklijk Museum
voorSchone Kunsten, Ant werp
106 PIERRE-AUGUSlE RENOIR 1841-1919 Re-
clill illg Nllde, c. 1915. Oil on canvas.
Private Collecti on
107 Exhibiti on CJraloguc, 1917
loR .""d.. (L.. N""/tlnd), 1917. Oil
0 11 C;1 I1 V ,15, x 2-'1 (92X OS) . Private
Coll ectioll
109 H/a; )l' (:n:dr(rrs, I',' [u -i!,
A I )rlv,tl"f..:
I(\ !" X
11 0 Nijillsky, 14) 1.1 .
Adolphe dL' Meyt'J'

III Oat/eer, 11) 10. PCllcil ,lI1d pt'lI, (()3 ii' [ oJ
(42'2x 10). The An MlI>( '"lI. I',ill'l' -
[on Universir y. D3011 '=cll ows 1'1. 111
Coll ecti on
112 KEES VAN DONGEN 1887- 1968 Tal""""
(LeChiileespagnol), 19/3. Oil oncanvas,
76ix 51t (195 x 130). Courtesy Doll y
van Dongen
I 13 French postcard, 1915. Court esy Gra-
ham Ovenden
114 BOUCHER 1703-70 A111c
O'A!Jurphy, 1751. Oi lon canvas, 23JX
(60'3 x 73). Wallraf Richartz Mu-
seum,Cologne
I 15 EDOUARD MANE'! 18)1- 83 OIYIIIPia,
1863 (detail). Oil on canvas, 51 X74l
(130x 190). Musce du Jeu de Paume,
Pari s. Photo Giraudon
11 6 MO'iSE KISLING 1891-1953 Recl illillg
Nude, 191 7. Oil on canvas, 2St
(60x 73). Musce du Pet it Palais, Geneva
117 Recliniug Nude, 1917. OilOll canvas,151
x (65 x 100). Private Collection
21
3
I I g U"p"ld7. IJOroll' .,ki, 1915. Oil on canvas,
x (40X27). Private Collection
110 1/'lIIl:a Z/",,,,"'.<ka. 1917. Oil on canvas,
I X I J (55 x 33) Galleria Nazional e
d'AnL' Moderna, Rome
120 LIII/itl C::CdIOIl/.(/.!a, 1917. Oilon canvas.
"' *XI (55X46). Private Collection
121 LIII/;a CzecllOlV.,lw (La Vita e 1111 DOllo
.), [9[S. Pencil, l6-iX9i (42 X25)
Priv:l(e Coll ecti on
121 Elella Pawlowski, 19[7. Oil on canvas,
25;\ X (65 X46) . Phillips Collection,
Washington D.C
123 J'v/oll ..:icllr Btlral101l'5ki, 19r 8. Oil on
canvas, 22 (III X56). Courtesy
Sir Robert and Lady Sainsbury. Photo
John Webb
l24 Jeanne Heullreme, [918. Oil on canvas,
18kX (46X29). Private C"lIection
125 j eanne Heu"re,." e, 19 18. Oil on c:mvas,
XIIj(46X29). Pri vate Collection
I26 Jeanne Hcbuterne. Photograph
[27 j eo/llle Hei>utern" c. 19 19 Pencil , I3jX
II (34'2X28). Kupfersrichbbillett,
BasIc
128 Lirtle Girl ill Bt.le, 1918. Oil 011 canvas,
28i! (116x73) Pri vateCollection
129 Leopold Sluuage, 19[7/18. Oil 011
callvas, 24 X18k (61 X46). Ateneumill
Taidemuseo, Hel sinki
130 jeO/J/'Ie Hebuterne, 1919. Oil on canvas,
39}X (100X65) Private Coll ection
[3 I Mo digliani with Paul Guillaume in
Ni ce, c. 19[ 9. Photo Musco Civico
Giovanni Fanori . Livorno
1.12 )i'Cllllle Hibuterne,c. [919 Pencil, IJ x 9i
(33 x 25) Private Collection
I.IIlIcI"rnl''' 01 Cagne;, 19[9. Oil on
'. 111\',1', (60X45). Dewey
'\.1
('( IIlt-nioll
',!lAiM ""'TINE [894-[94J. Road 10
'.\4
C:11,\! lfI '\ , 1<) [ 1). Oi l on canvas, 32 X
I'ri va tl' Collection
214
135 RacheIe Ost erlind. Photograph
136 Tlte Shopkeeper, 1915. Oil 011 canvas,
(100x (5).PrivateColl ecti on.
PhotoGi raudon
137 The Peasanl Boy, 1918. Oil 011 ca nvas,
x (100x 65) . The Tate Gall ery,
London
138 LlIl1ia Czeclloill.dw, 1919. Oil on canvas,
81J x 1J (46x 3]). Private Collecti on.
PhotoGi raudon
[39 Hanko Zborowska, 1919 Oil on canvas,
39*x (100x 6)). PrivateColl eCt io n.
PhotoGiraudo n
140 jeallne HClnueme lUirh Sash. Oi l o n
canvas, 36}X (92x 60). Privatl'
Collection
[41 LIJllia CzccholU;ka wil h Fall, 1919. Oil
on canvas, (lOox65). Mus':l'
Nati o na l d'Art Modernc. Paris. Phoro
Giraudo n
142 jealllle Heuut e",e, 1919. Oil on canv,os,
21JX [5 (55 X38)
143 SclJpomail, 1919 Oil on ca n vas, x
(100x (5). Pr iva t e Collecti o n.
Photo Gi raud on
144 JEANNE HEBUTERNE 1898-1920 Modi -
gliaJli Readillg ill Bcd, 1919. Pencil.
PrivateCollection
145 PauletteJOIl)'daill, [919. Oil on'canvas,
Jnx251 (100x 65). PrivateColleCtio n
146 jeanne Hebulerne, 1919. Oil on canvas,
x JIt(IJOX8I). PrivatcColl ection.
Photocourtesy Sot heby Parke Bernet
[47 Mario Vawogli, 1920.Oiloncanvas,45a
x 28'} ( I[6x 7J). Private Coll ecti on
148 Mario Varvogli, 1920. Pen ci l, I9lX 17
(48 x 30) . Muse um of Modern An,
New York, gi ft o f Abby Al dri ch
Rockefelle r
149 Modigl iani , c. 1919-20. Photograph ,
J eanneModigliani Coll ection
We wish to thank the Archivio Ceroni f,"
kindlysuppl yi llgmany o f the photographs.
Index
Figl/res ;1/ italic are il/u.ium/oll
lIt/wbers.
Abrallrcs, Mnlld (')40- 1, 17
Acrobat J6, 12
Ak hamatovJ, Anna 76, 192
Alexa ndre,Jean 5I, 27
Alexandre, Paul 45, 48, 49, 50-1,
55 8J, I J9 , 23- 6
All/lai:'a, see RecliniJlg Nllde
A1'1Iaz(lI1e, L' 51-2, 28
Apoll i naire, Gui ll aume ]2,J8,42,
57, 68, 8y, 97, 106, 120, 12(,.
146.58
Archipenko. Alexander 56
ArleryJlill,L' 124.82
Bakst,Leon 116, 185
Bara, Theda (Theodosia Good-
man) 141, 98
BartJI10!vski , iv/ot1sicllr 160, J23
Bar lach, Ernst 66
R1sle r, Adolphe 67, 89, 121; 13.
with Modigli ani 67,39
Baudelaire, Charl es 16. 27, 116
BeggaroJUllomo, The 5J, 55, 18S,
29
Bennett, Arnold 108. 194
Boccioni, Umberro 26, R7
Botticelli, Sandro 141,174
Boucher, 156; Mile
O'Murphy 156,159, "4
Brancusi.Constantin 55, 56-8,60,
66, 71, 77, 81, 124, 126, 154,
194,)2;Head 56,3';Kiss 66, 7 I,
38; I'rOll'lethellS 81, 51; Portrait of
a f.,Follum 8I152
Brague, Georges44, 68
Brideand Croolll, The 128.87
BlIsl oja WOlllan JH, 15
Cadorin , Guido 28
Calmett c, Gaston 15J-4
Carco, Francis 145, 194
Caryatid (c. 191J) 76, 48
Caryatid(c. 191 J-15) 76,
Celli"I, The 55
Cellist, StudyJor The 58, ]0
Ccndrars, Dbi ,\(.' 1.:. . NI L q ' l I.J ( ,
146, l if ), '''1)
Cezanne,Paul,l l , 1( ' . II 1\ r, 1M
51,53, )), 5(1 , \ "IIII l'
}\I1(1/1 ill n II ';II \ /r otl t II' ' I
Chag.111, M,lI" 1_, ,.4 I I
Cherun, 1',1111 I I ,. I 1( ,
CoctL'.\tI, k .tll ," I H I H' I,,.
I:q. [MI,t"
CtJllllfl')'
CI(Hlfltill.l.' ( (1I)1,'t/.1 ( 1'/111 11-' JI. ,
4
Crl ll/thill.l: { ," I}' .I/I1/ ( 11/ 10 II. 1(',
R,_' ,
C rutl/I.\/I' II (ltJlfl ) I , I I
111111.1 I { I, 1 1 " ' I' ,
If,l, 1(' 1 (', d<X Il l , II} \ . 11) (1,
.!f1n, In(I, /.',1 . , rl, , ,,'I , 'I'
/)(II/ft" I "\ ,, I III
I Y AlIllIlJl/ il), I ), I II, 17 .
J{)()
Dant,' Alighini 11 2, I I '
1)<: Chiri co, ''\1). IX,
Debunay, Robert J2
Dcr,")in, Andre 30, 44, ()X. IXo, 206
Diaghilcv, Sergc 1 ) 1
Dongen, Kees ""n 44, 89, 116.
154, 156; Tableall (Le Cluile
e.'pagllo!) 154, 159, 112
Dreyfus, Capt ain Alfred 38
Duchamp-Vill on, Ra y mond 66
Ehrenburg, lI ya 114, 126, 128,
IJO, 146
Eluard, Paul I J2
Epstein,Jacob 56, 65, 6H, 8r. 106
FamilleFerdil1(JlI, La 116
Fattori, Giovanni 12, 14
Foujita, Tsugou hara 121 , 126 ,
145, 176, 206
Fournier , Gabriel 92, 94, 104; A r
La Rolol/ de 56
Garsin, Amcdeo H, 25, 29
Garsin, Laure 8, C). 52
Gauguin , Paul 6H, I\)"
I " "'1" /\ \111" I 1\ 11, 1,,1 ,
I.lll t.1I I ; 1 , , I iili d ,
I II>l It 1\ I,,,II) IIIIH t
I tllIll'"1111 t I
,".,.. \ 1111 111 \ II I "
I >!, /qI II 11, 1 ' 1. I ' ( ' , I I . 1(1(,
1 "
1. lI dl dll tli t 11.lld .'II, I q t " 1 1. 1,
I I ., . I ". If,', ,'/,1, '.0:
111'u' 1111 I II Itl' .11 1c:.; li i hi lhlll
.11 liP, l'I,tlh-l\
11.1I1I1h' ll, N lll.1 1..;;.'\
IL"IIII J!." tk, lnl ce :< .1 , N7. 9 1.
') ,.! , ' )l 1,l ot, 1,! . II (t . I ' 7,1 :!.1,
I .. ' ,. '3. ',IJ." I ) 'J, 7,1 b, 7\ ....
,"t)
11 .1\ ,/',".1, ,""" ,k 11111'1) 1(/ , 70,
Ii, '
fI, .,d( I' '' " 11) 7", 7 ' , II
I"",,,I ( "ll<) I. 1/
Ifi'lul( J 1) I .' ) ( I" , SI .
1/111 11 (I>J I I " i"
fI.. I,! (I'jl'II) S!",
II"",! (I'l l.Il(I,V",".," It! I
11"IId ( I'J1.1) N' I , '1/
Head ,<'itll ,I I'lillrh 7' , /1
Head IFitl, il ll A,l(1ols 71,.J.!
Hebll[crnt..' . Jeanllc 92, 13.'. r ()I.
176, 181-2, 1'.12,
194, 195-6, 198, 204, 205-("
124-7, 1]0, 1)2, 142, 146;
Readillg in Bcd, 198,
144
I vorl' Coast. mask from 70, 40
Jacob, Max J9, 83, 89, 92, 102,
106,108,120, 1'21, 124-5, 126,
I J2-4, 13 5, 194, 206, 86, 92;
poem dedica ted to Modigliani
lJ2,91
jewe.';, The 45, 48, 22
John, AugustuS 65
Jourdain, Paulette 200, 206, 145
Jung, Cart Gustav 65
Daniel-Henri 120,
12I , IJJ
215
Ki sling, Mo"isc ]l) , () 7. 102,
126, 158, 204 . .:! O(I. ()S; Rl'dillillg
Nude 1 )9, 11(1
Kn eeli,,)! 111 '01/1 11 11 ( I )ie ,' 111/f , D ies
1II1Ir) 13 I " , I " , . 9"
KrClllt'gll L' ."' ;-': ' (,?, ! 2()
Lag:lr, ( :d , u ! 1(,(" 82
'. c",d" "pI' ,if ( :a,l!II(' S 1 5- 6, 133
L.ltll l.: lIi III, fvb r it.' 13 5
L:llI t'l' II'\, . Henri l o r, 102,66
1,:ILI(rl" l1lon( , conHe de (I sido re
nll c. " , ,') 16, 17,65, 106,1/4.
1.1" , 173 , 174, 195
Lt'gcr , FCrJl;lnd 126, 206
Lc hmbruck, Wilhelm 66. 72-3;
r il l/en YOlllh 66, 72, 37
Level, Andre 120
Libi on 59, 90
Life Sludi e.< (1 9 17) 137, 145,95,97
Lipchi( z, Jacques 3<) , 56, 68 , 71.
104-5, 126, 206; Jacqll es alld
Be rtha Lipc"ilZ 104,7]: Prepara-
lory Drall'illgs{or 73 106, 70- 2
Lillie Girl ill Bill e 176- 7, 128
Maill ol, Aris(idc 74
Mane(, Edoll ard , OIYlllpia 156, 115
Mar couss is, Lo ui s 68
Marinw i. Filippo T. 25. 26, 87
Matisse, Henri 44, 45, 68, 97. 135.
13 6, 180; Bh,e Nllde 44-;;,20
Mouroncr, Fabio 28 , J
Michelangelo Buonarroti 25, 82
Micheli. Guglielm o 12, 13 , 14, 16,
20, 24
Modi gli:llli , Amedeo Cl emellt e,
plr ut0gr:l phs 1, 7, 149
Modi g li:lIli , Co rinna 24
Modi gli.lIli , Emanuel e 8, la, 11 ,
13 ( 1. l Or,
M (H.hgli :llli, 1.:. t1 !-!L'lli a 7, 8, 9. la,
I I. 12. ' 7. l H, 4S. 52
Modi glialli , I-I ,""i"io 7.8, 16, 24
I H2, 190
MII"dlllli . Uhcl1(1 I S
1\ 1" ,,1, (I /:.</;I/i, II) 1.1 1 +. 88
1\'1'11" It. 1." ",,,,1 :'7
N"d"llIl.t". I' lie 74
Nil'l7,r!W, ITl n lrlr h !) , 1(1, 17. 20
V .\ , I:IV 1'\ I 4. J 10
216
1\
PIO.l
Q,) IS
Nostrada mus 128, [34
Nil blond, Le. see Slandil1g N llde
N llde ( 1908) 40-1,16
N il de . Slildy of a (1908) 42-4. IS
Nllde ,,,ifh AJrican Slalue 70, 41
O livi er, Fernande 36
O rage, A.R . lOS
O rloff, C hana 56, 206
O rti z de Z:ir:ltc, M.1I1ucl 34, 83,
92, 126, 196,204,206
O sterlind, Rachi:le and Anders
185- 8; Rachele O srerlind 135
Papini , Giova nni 26
P:lrmi giani llo. Francesco 112- 13,
141 ; M ariol1na del Colla Lflngo 77
Pasc in , Jul es 92
Pawlowski , Elena 166, 122
Peo501l1 Bay, Ti,e 188, 1)7
Pi casso, Pablo 14,31, )2, )6, 41,
45, 48, 68, 70, 89, 92, 96,
102, 106, 120, 124. 126, 136,
146, 180, 206, 59; Holy Com-
lIIullion 14, 4: La Vie 36, 1J; Les
Demoiselles d' AI'igll on 45 . 19;
S IUdy Ja r Th e Bathers 1) 6, 96
Pi ckfo rd , Mary 141, 99
Portroil YOllllg Bo), 13, J
Radi g uet, Ra ymond 57, 10 1-2.
124, 69
Reclillillg Nude (Alnlai :, o) ( 1<) [6)
136.9.1 . 94
ReC/il1il1gNude(1917) 143,144,101
ReC/illillg N llde (1917) 144.1 03
R eelillillg N llde (1917) 144, 104
Renoir , Pi e rre-Auguste 145- 6,
R ec/il1ing N ude 145, 107
Rivera, Diego 89, 92, 94- 7, 120,
62-5: Se/f:porlrail <)6, 61
Rodi n, Aug usre 56, J 54
Rosali e 89. 90, 121 , 196, 206
Rosenberg, Lconee J20, J2J
1<. 0"0. Medardo R7
ROll ssea u, Henri (Lo Douani er) 57
Sa lmon, Andre 35-6, 45, 92, 173,
206
Sa tie, Eri c 125
Schei will er. Giovanni 149
Seated Figllre 36, 11
Seated N nde ( 1917) 144. '02
Selfporrroil (' c. 1(00) 14,5
Self-porlrail (1919) 198, I4J
Severini, Gin o 26, )2, 40, 206
Sheli' ing-5Ial1d 17-1 8, 6
SI"'pkeeper, Th e 185 , 1) 6
Sin,vell . Os bert 194
Soffi ci, Ardengo 26
Sourine, C ha'im 9, )9, 58, 67, 81,
9 2, 12 I , 122-4, 126, 102 , 170,
182,1 9 4-5 ,20 0, 20 4, 206,84, 85 ;
Road to Cogl1 es 122. 182, 1)4
Sialiding N nde (Le Nil blolld) 145,
108
Sur vage, Leopo ld (Leopo ld
Sturzvage) 104, ' 76, 178-<),
206 , 129
Tago re (Rabindranath Th" kur) 70
Thiro ux, Simone 174
Titi an 49, 143, 154' Vellll ,. willi lit e
Orgoll-ployer 143 , 156, J 59,100
TouloLi se-Laurr ee, Henri de 27.
38, 192
Tro tsky, Lcon 130
Urrill o,' M,auri ce9,42, 81.90, 121,
<2 4, 185. 194, 206: Le Lap il1
Agile 10
Valadon, Suzanne 36, 206
Varvogli, Mario 200, 148, 149
V elazg uez, Diego 49
Verl ain e, Paul 76
Via minck, Maurice de 68, 92, 13 0,
180,206
Vollard, Ambroise 31, 121
Vo robev, Mar evn. (Mari ,1) 96,
114, 188
Weill , Bertlr e 3 ', 146. 147, 154,
[6 1
Wlri srle r. James Abbot McNeill
27
Wilde, Oscar 9, [ 7, 124
) / OIl1fg B(JY, Porr r(/ir of t1 (3.3
Zadkine, Oss ip ;; 6, 60, 8), 126
Zborowska , Hanko 161 , 102- 4,
178, 1<) 2, 194, 195, 119, IJ9
Zbo rowski , Leopold 48 , 94, 117,
139. 145, 147, 10 1- 2, 164., 176,
192 , 204, 206, 11 8; lerr er fro m
Modigliani 178- 80

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