Philip Alexius de László: A Difficult Start

"Philippe de Gramont" by Philip de Laszlo

When Philip de László was a lad of nine, small for his age, thin and pale, he began a series of jobs in spite of his father's displeasure with the profession of an artist. He recalled those days thusly:

"At this time a very popular play was being performed at the People's Theater. For one scene a number of children were needed, and I took part in it for ten kreuzers a performance. But what impressed me most was the painted scenery. I became obsessed with the idea of becoming a scene-painter. After much persuasion I induced my mother, unknown to my father, to take me to see the celebrated scene-painter Lehmann. My mother told him of my ambition. He looked through the drawings I had done especially for the purpose. 'All right, then,' he said finally. 'Come, and we'll see what you can do,' and promised me five florins a month. 

I was given little scenes to paint for practice. Soon I was busy cooking the colours. What I found most difficult was the preparation of the canvas, but I did it willingly and was the happiest boy in the world. In the second month I was allowed to begin to paint small-scale models, pieces of sky, walls, and so on. After a time I received higher pay, which not only helped me but my mother. When he asked me, however, to act as a messenger boy in his love affairs, I thanked him for what he had done for me, but refused to return. 

My father made me suffer for this, but my mother, always patient, then went with me to one of the foremost scene-painters of the Royal Opera House in Budapest. He had a higher position than Lehmann and had a number of good painters working under him. To my great delight he agreed to employ me, but there was one student who disliked me. One morning while I was busy drawing, he and his friends seized me and bullied me so heartlessly that I collapsed. When I recovered, I left the studio never to return. Nevertheless, this experience gave me strength and persistence and the will to hold out and go forward. I determined that nothing should prevent my becoming an artist. 

My father, who shunned any kind of responsibility, gave me up, and my uncle Philip introduced me to Vogel, an architectural sculptor. He took me into his workshop as an apprentice. I was then about eleven years old. The workshop was an hour's walk from my home, and I had to be at work by six o-clock every morning. My mother used to give me hot soup before I left, and pack my lunch - sausage and bread - for me to take in my pocket. 

Vogel worked himself and was always busy. He had about forty assistants and took very little notice of me. For five florins a month I had to light the fire in the stove, put everything in order and then, in a dark cellar, prepare the clay before the men came. Often I thought my hands would freeze. But on Sundays and Saturday afternoons, when the workshops were empty, I used to try my hand at modelling for my own pleasure. One Saturday afternoon I modelled a group of fruit, and as Vogel was passing through Monday morning he saw it and asked who had done it. From that time he let me do modelling only and paid me a small extra wage. I remained with Vogel for about three months. But once again I suffered from the jealousy of my comrades and became convinced that it would be better for me to leave."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Portrait of a Painter" by Owen Rutter.)