Augustus Saint-Gaudens: The Franco-Prussian War

"Ceres" by Augustus Saint-Gaudens
Carved from mahogany and holly wood with
ivory, mother-of-pearl, marble and bronze inlay

The gathering clouds of the Franco-Prussian struggle closed over Augustus Saint-Gaudens and his friends in Paris, one of whom described the beginning of the war in 1871:

'Gus and I were at the opera at the time that war was declared. Near the end of the performance, the principal actor came before the audience with a flag in his hand to call on them to sing the National Hymn. Then everyone went crazy and we no less than the others, so crazy that soon we found ourselves, with Bastien-Lepage and one of his friends, on the Boulevard des Italiens, where we hammered with fists and canes a number of idiots who were crying 'To Berlin!'

The question of whether or not to follow the example of almost all his friends and enlist, gave Saint-Gaudens infinite distress: and his ultimate leaving of Paris for quieter parts was only at the cost of much pride, sacrificed to the wishes of his mother, [who expressed her deep concern for him in an eight-page letter], and for whom he held the greatest affection. 

Saint-Gaudens shared what happened next in a letter dated September 21, 1870: 

"Fortunately I had been given a stone-cameo portrait to do for which I was to be paid one hundred dollars, an enormous sum to me at that time. The lady who ordered it, a widow from Canada, departed suddenly for America when the war broke out, and I sent the cameo to her by her father. Knowing therefore that I was to have this money, I left Paris on the fourth of September for Limoges, where my brother, Andrew worked in the employ of one of the New York Porcelain firms. 

After remaining in Limoges for three or four months I borrowed one hundred francs from my brother and started for Rome, as I knew that there I would find an Italian friend and, very probably, work. I arrived there at night and called immediately on my friend. I slept in his room, and the following morning I awoke to the blessed charm of Rome."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "The Reminiscences of Augustus Saint-Gaudens" by Augustus Saint-Gaudens and his son, Homer Saint-Gaudens.) 

 

Augustus Saint-Gaudens: Studies with Jouffroy

"The Secret of Venus"
by François Jouffroy

Augustus Saint-Gaudens' teacher at the Ecole des Beaux Arts was "François Jouffroy, a tall, thin, dark, wiry man with little, intelligent black eyes and a strange face in profile, his forehead and nose descending in a straight line from the roots of his hair to within an inch of the end of the nose, which suddenly became round and red. He made his criticism in a low, drawling tone, nine-tenths of the time in a perfunctory way, looking in an entirely different direction from the model and from the study. He was very much in vogue at the Tuileries at that time, although he had achieved his distinction some ten or fifteen years before my arrival by one of the masterpieces of French sculpture - and that is saying a good deal - called 'The Secret of Venus.'

To Jouffroy, therefore, I brought my drawings. In two days I was admitted and immediately plunged into work, being the only American in the class, though Olin Warner followed me some six months later. It subsequently became the atelier where most of the Americans studied. I was by no means a brilliant pupil, though the steadiness of Jouffroy's compliments consoled me for my inevitable failures in direct competition. These failures did not for a moment discourage me, however, or create any doubts in my mind as to my assured superiority. Doubts have come later in life, and in such full measure that I have abundantly atoned for my youthful presumption and vanity."

Years later a long-time friend, Alfred Garnier, wrote a letter describing those times to Saint-Gaudens' son, Homer:

"I was chiefly impressed by Gus' possessing so strongly the qualities of a man who was bound to succeed. I often went to see him in his room where he engraved cameos to earn his livelihood, as you know. For though in the mornings he came to the class room of the school, his afternoons had to be consecrated to earning his living. At this period Augustus was the gayest of young men, though that did not prevent his undertone of seriousness and reflection. I remember how much he was moved when he received a few dollars which his parents sent to him. He thought probably of the privations which he imposed on them for the sake of his success, and he used to ask himself if the time would ever come when he would be able to help them in turn. But I repeat that then he was the most joyous creature that one could see." 

But this formative time in Paris would abruptly, and unexpectedly, come to an end. 

To be continued
(Excerpts from "The Reminiscences of Augustus Saint-Gaudens" by Augustus Saint-Gaudens and his son, Homer Saint-Gaudens.) 

Augustus Saint-Gaudens: La Petite École

"Augustus Saint-Gaudens" by Kenyon Cox

"My time at the little 'École de Médicine,' as they called the school, was enlivened by many amusing incidents, the result of the radical difference in the characters of the two professors who taught, one on Wednesdays and the other on Saturdays. 

Georges Jacquot, a short, loud-spoken, good-natured professor - and sculptor - came on Wednesday. He was entirely democratic, saying the most amusing things to the pupils. Although merry and good-hearted, he was a terror, from the fact that he indicated our errors with a very thick charcoal; so to those of us who had learned to work rather delicately and firmly his marks were only bearable because of the jollity with which he made them. While he taught, the boys raised as much noise as the uniformed and ill-natured 'gardien' at the doorway would permit.

On Saturdays Alexandre Laemlein criticized, a man of a totally different type. When he appeared, the class remained silent. He was austere, taking the greatest care to apply his suggestions with light touches, always certain and correct. Jacquot talked with a strange kind of mixed-up lisp as if he had a marble in his mouth, whereas Laemlein spoke with a deliberate nasal tone. Jacquot maintained that you must draw freely and with no fear of the paper, while Laemlein's advice was to the effect that you should draw lightly, carefully, and firmly, and not with sloppiness as do those who pretend to work with vigor. The result of this weekly divergence of views upon the boys can be imagined. In these surroundings, then, I prospered until at last I was awarded the first prize, and, subsequently, with a lot of other successful youths, received, with the medal, a crown of laurel. 

At this time also, at the end of these nine months of the Petite École, I felt much impressed by the receipt of a large envelope with the United States seal on it, notifying me of my admission to the Beaux Arts. This was a great joy. My first step was to obtain the authorization from the Master whose atelier I wished to enter, and selected sculptor François Jouffroy because at that time Jouffroy's atelier was the triumphant one of the Beaux Arts, his class capturing, as a rule, most of the prizes."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "The Reminiscences of Augustus Saint-Gaudens" by Augustus Saint-Gaudens and his son Homer Saint-Gaudens.)  

 

Augustus Saint-Gaudens: Arrival in Paris

"Gertrude Vanderbilt at the Age of Seven"
by Augustus Saint-Gaudens

"My arrival in Paris in February 1867 was extraordinarily impressive. I walked with my heavy carpet bag, the weight of which increased, as I made my way up the interminable Avenue des Champs Elysees to my uncle François'. A day or two after my arrival I went about in search of employment at cameo cutting and of admission to the School of Fine Arts. The cameo cutting I obtained at once from an Italian, Lupi, supporting myself on what I earned by the cameos  and attending a modeling school in the mornings and nights.

However I found my entrance into the Beaux Arts a formidable business. After much running around, I saw at last M. Guillaume, the Director of the School, who, to my thinking, received me with unusual affability for so wonderful a man. I recall his smile as I told him that I expected to learn sculpture during the nine months I proposed to remain in Paris, the limit to which I had expected my money would extend. From him I gathered that I could enter only through the formal application of the American Minister. I thereupon called on Mr. Washburne, then occupying that post. He also seemed kind, smiled as I related my little story, and said that I would be informed when the application had been accepted. This notification I received exactly nine months after handing it in.

In the meantime, fortunately, I not only earned a good living by cutting cameos, but also entered a smaller school, though an excellent one, and began my Parisian studies, probably in March or April, 1868. We worked in a stuffy, overcrowded, absolutely unventilated theater, with two rows of students, perhaps twenty-five in each row, seated in a semicircle before the model who stood against the wall. Behind those who drew were about fifteen sculptors, and I look back with admiration upon the powers of youth to live, work, and be joyful in an atmosphere that must have been almost asphyxiating. Here I modeled my first figures from the nude, and laid an excellent foundation for the future." 

To be continued

(Excerpts from "The Reminiscences of Augustus Saint-Gaudens" by Augustus Saint-Gaudens and his son Homer Saint-Gaudens.)  

 

Augustus Saint-Gaudens: Turning Points

"Jules Bastien Lepage" by
Augustus Saint-Gaudens

"My firing by Avet opened the second by-road in my career which led to my being a sculptor. At this time there lived in New York a man entirely the reverse of my first employer, Mr. Jules LeBrethon, a shell-cameo cutter, who earned his living by making the large shell-cameo portraits in vogue during this period of big hoop skirts. I had learned very easily with Avet the cutting of shell-cameos, this being a far simpler affair. To my delight, I discovered that he had a stone-cameo lathe, which he could not use. I began work at once, and the three years of so with him were as day is to night in comparison with my previous experience. The only thing that he had in common with Avet was that he also sang from morning to night. He, however, never scolded or showed anything but consideration in my affairs. Indeed, because of this interest, he even allowed me an extra hour every day, beside my dinner period, in which to model, and gave me instruction at that time.

My first trip to Europe, which was another turning point in my life, came about when, at the beginning of the year 1867, Father asked me if I would like to see the coming Paris Exposition. To my enthusiastic assent he said, 'We will arrange that,' since I had, of course, been giving my wages, which were ample for a boy of that age at that time, help the running of the family.

Between that date and the moment upon which my steamer sailed, three incidents alone hold their place in my memory. The first of them concerns one of the large and hilarious dinners interspersed through out lives, which on this occasion, father planned in honor of my departure. The second deals with another banquet furnished by good-hearted LeBrethon the night before I left, at which, as I picked up my napkin, I found under the plate one hundred francs in gold, 'To pay for a trip to father's village in France.' But most of all I recall how, during those last nights and Sunday, I made a bust of father and a drawing of mother. The latter, being perhaps the possession I treasured most in the world, was destroyed in the fire that a year ago burnt down my studio."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "The Reminiscences of Augustus Saint-Gaudens" by Augustus Saint-Gaudens and his son Homer Saint-Gaudens.)  

 

Augustus Saint-Gaudens: Apprenticed

Cameo of "Hannah Rohr Tuffs"
by Augustus Saint-Gaudens

"Up to this time, after school, my free hours had been occupied in carrying the shoes, first to father's workmen to have them made, and later to the customers by whom they were ordered. Then, when I was just thirteen, my father said to me one day: 'My boy, you must go to work. What would you like to do?' 'I don't care,' I replied, 'but I should like it if I could do something which would help me to be an artist.'

Consequently father apprenticed me to a man named Avet, a Savoyard, dark, with a mustache which extended down along the side of the cheek and jaw. When he was not scolding me, he sang continuously. I believe that I am not wrong in stating that he was the first stone cameo-cutter in America, though stone seal-engravers there were already in New York, as well as shell cameo-engravers. For it was the fashion at that time for men to wear stone scarf-pins with heads of dogs, horses and lions, cut in amethyst, malachite and other stones.

I was Avet's first apprentice, and the stones which I prepared for him he would finish, occasionally allowing me to complete one myself. He was employed principally by Messrs. Ball, Black & Company, who had their store on the corner of Spring Street and Broadway, and now and then by Tiffany, to both of which shops I took the cameos when completed, always with a profound impression of the extraordinary splendor of those places.

Avet was certainly an old-time, hard taskmaster, so I can only describe my years with him as composing a miserable slavery. To this training, nevertheless, I attribute a habit of work which, although it has been of the greatest benefit, has at the same time contributed to my struggle for health as well as limited my vision to what was immediately in my surroundings, and made me oblivious to what lay beyond the four walls of my studio. 

Between Avet's fits of rage, he would take me to the country on shooting excursions. During these trips my keen appreciation of the beauty and wonders of the landscape was so intense that no subsequent experience has ever come up to it. The memory of the first lying on the grass under the trees and the first looking through the branches at the flying clouds, will stay by me if I live to be as old as ten Methuselahs." 

To be continued

(Excerpts from "The Reminiscences of Augustus Saint-Gaudens" by Augustus Saint-Gaudens and his son Homer Saint-Gaudens.)  

Augustus Saint-Gaudens: Fired

Augustus Saint-Gaudens 
at his cameo lathe

"It was during the opening two or three years of my apprenticeship to Avet that my earliest definite aspirations and ambitions had made themselves felt. For I applied for admission to the drawing school of the Cooper Institute. There every evening, upon my return from work at six o'clock and my hasty tea I went. And there my artistic education began. The feeling of profound gratitude for the help which I have had from that school abides with me to this day. 

With such an incentive I became a terrific worker, toiling every night until eleven o'clock after the class was over, in the conviction that in me another heaven-born genius had been given to the world. Indeed I became so exhausted with the confining work of cameo-cutting by day and drawing at night that, in the morning, mother literally dragged me out of bed, pushed me over to the washstand, where I gave myself a cat's lick somehow or other, drove me to the seat at the table, administered my breakfast, which consisted of tea and large quantities of long French loaves of bread with butter, and tumbled me down stairs out into the street, where I awoke.

My appreciation of the antique [plaster casts] and my earliest attempt to draw from the nude came at the Institute with the advice of Mr. Huntington and Mr. Leutze, the latter being the painter of the popular 'Washington Crossing the Delaware.' Two other lasting aesthetic impressions of the time I received upon seeing Ward's 'Indian Hunter' in plaster in the back of some picture store on Broadway, and Gérome's painting of 'The Death of Caesar,' exhibited in the window of Goupil's, then on the northeast corner of Tenth Street and Broadway.

I have spoken before of Avet's scoldings. At last one day, on coming into the shop in an exceptionally violent state of anger, he suddenly discharged me because I had forgotten to sweep up the crumbs I had dropped on the floor while lunching. I took off my overalls, wrapped them up, went to father's store, and explained the story to my parents, feeling that the end of the world had arrived. Within half an hour Avet appeared. I was sent on some errand, and on returning was told that he wanted me back at an advance of five dollars a week on my wages. However I replied that I would not return under any condition. This was no doubt the most heroic act of my existence. Nevertheless the incident, as will appear, opened the second by-road in my career which led to my being a sculptor."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "The Reminiscences of Augustus Saint-Gaudens" by Augustus Saint-Gaudens and his son Homer Saint-Gaudens.)