Alfred Stevens: A Grand Finale

"Autumn Flowers" by Alfred Stevens

"In 1890, Albert Stevens joined the group which left the traditional Salon to show separately at the Champs de Mars, calling themselves the Societe Nationale des Beaux Arts. He had eleven paintings represented. In September 1890, the first of a series of blows fell upon Stevens. His beloved brother, Arthur, died. Only six months later, Marie Stevens, his wife of over thirty years, passed away, and the following year, Joseph, his elder brother was also lost to him. 

The final blow was of a different nature - a lack of money. The latter problem preyed on the mind of a bereaved and lonely man. The story is all too familiar. Stevens had little idea of money or accounts, and spent his money freely in the firm belief that he could always paint another picture and replace it. His letters to his children are pitiful but nothing prevented his painting well. 

Having been unable to exhibit in the previous year's Salon, he had now sixteen paintings on display and enjoyed having his son Leopold's work on show with his. He had a successful exhibition in Brussels the following year in 1895, and tried to paint himself out of debt. In doing so the quality sometimes suffered, but to the end, he could pull himself together and paint fine paintings when he had a mind to. 

In 1899, he fell by accident, failed to recover properly and was confined to a wheelchair. There could have been a sad ending to the life of this fine artist. However, his friends rallied round and wrote to the authorities asking for a retrospective exhibition for him at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts. This honor had never been awarded to a living artist but the Minister granted the request. We can imagine the joy for Stevens of being wheeled around the exhibition of over a hundred and eighty of his paintings, among them several masterpieces which he would have not seen for years. 

He died in 1906 and was given a grand funeral and endless obituaries in the press, but I think we should leave him being pushed around in his chair, fussed over by the Dame Patronesses. After all, they were elegant ladies, the inspiration and passion of Alfred Stevens."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Alfred Stevens" by Paul Mitchell.)