Montparnasse- Walking pensively along Avenue du Maine recently, I imagine young Picasso, Braque, Brancusi, Modigliani, Soutine or Chagall tracing the very same path to the studio of fellow artist, Marie Vassiliev, who regularly offered plentiful lunches for only one franc, filling their bellies for the day. Afterwards, they returned to their modest nearby studios, as if entering portals into another dimension. There they would labor in their own universes, each in a solitary search for the line, color, shape and material that would express their creative vision.

Like many immigrants, artists and intellectuals at the beginning of the last century, they gravitated to the center of artistic and political freedom—Paris, France—the most progressive city in what was then, perhaps, the only republic in Europe. Paris was their light. Like a single, short spark in the continuum of human history, this group of artists formed the brilliant cluster of stars that blazed the transition from traditionalism to modernism in art. The fruits of their toil now reside in great museums and are coveted by the most prestigious art markets and collectors in this earthly world.

In the midst o f this vibrant artistic ferment was sculptor, Emile-Antoine Bourdelle. Although half a generation older than the others, he was, nevertheless, a part of the modernist trend. His studio, refurbished and expanded into a museum over the years to house his body of work, was my destination, as I crossed the avenue toward the small street bearing his name.

Bourdelle lived in a transformational period. His artistic sensibilities straddled those of the 19th and 20th centuries, the nascent pull of the modernistic force toward the surreal, abstract and expressionism that tore away at the seams of traditional notions of representational form and figure, color and narrative.

Spending my afternoon immersed in his work: bronzes in the sculpture garden, oversized plaster molds of his monuments installed in the museum’s grand hall; assiduous drawings and sketches made in preparation for each work, I couldn’t help but feel that Bourdelle was a sculptor with a grand vision. His compositions seemed to be propelled by an enormous sense of heroism derived from mythology and history, boldly expressed in vivid and emotional textures and fused with architectural forms that betrayed his deep romanticism, but voiced in an incipient modern sculptural language.

His famous, “Herakles the Archer” (1909), is one such example, the gold-leafed version now at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. It captures Herakles, the hero, at the moment he is poised with bow and arrow to kill the Stymphalian Birds of Arcadia, thus fulfilling the sixth of his prescribed labors. The influence of the Archaic Greek kouros is evident in the smaller head, high cheek-bones, large muscular torso and limbs, and thin waist. But, unlike the archaic, this kouros is not stiff or static, but rather energetic–eyes focused, lips pursed in concentration just before releasing the deadly arrow, his figure taut with dynamic muscular tension. The tilt of the body— right knee on the ground, left leg spreading at an angle and left foot pressing against a boulder—is a canted triangle, the top of the bow an apex accentuating the tension.

Another magnificent example, “Dying Centaur” (1914), stands in the rotunda of the museum’s grand hall. His neck is stretched, bending the head to his left shoulder, enclosing the figure in a rectangular whole when viewed from the side. It is a solid, somber and melancholic work—the wise centaur with his lyre, signifying a dying artist whose followers no longer believe in him. Perhaps it symbolized Bourdelle’s premonition of the end of an era, as the escalating tenor of pernicious conflict and foreboding winds of destruction that would be, The Great War, had begun to stir in Europe.

Bourdelle had come to Paris from the southern city of Montauban to pursue sculpting in 1884, at the age of 23. He had learned woodcarving by helping his father, a cabinet-maker, who alienated customers as a sympathizer of the Paris Commune. Recognizing young Bourdelle’s talent, Montauban’s bourgeoisie supported his art studies in Toulouse. He was later accepted into the prestigious L’Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris, which he left after only a few months, seeking greater artistic freedom and devoting himself to sculpting, once his works were finally being shown.

In 1885, Bourdelle rented a small studio, on what was then 16 Impasse du Maine and, after achieving some success, moved his parents to his home. He never left. A modest man, he lived with his devoted second wife, Cleopatre Sevastos, a former pupil born of Greek nobility, and their daughter, Rhodia.

Bourdelle worked as an assistant to August Rodin for 15 years, before ultimately establishing himself as an acclaimed sculptor. He wrote poetry and books and taught at the nearby Academie de la Grande-Chaumiere, an art school then newly-established to nurture artistic freedom. He also taught a young Alberto Giacometti, who worked at his studio for seven years, as did Henri Matisse for a couple of years, at the suggestion of Rodin.

As his fame grew, commissions followed, including the monumental “La France” (1925) at the Musee d’Art Moderne across the Seine from the Eiffel Tower: a majestic female figure, right hand holding a lengthy spear reaching for the sky, left hand perpendicular to the spear, shielding her eyes as she pans the horizon, recalling the Americans’ auspicious entry into the war in 1917. He also created bas-reliefs for the Theatre des Champs Elysee: female figures whose poses were inspired by dance movements of the legendary, Isadora Duncan. Additionally, the museum collection includes many sketches and drawings of dancers whom the artist greatly admired.

Bourdelle died in 1929 and Cleopatre, Rhodia and her husband, Michel Dufet, realized his ambitious vision and created a museum for his works and writings.

About ten years later, at the onset of World War II, most of the artists of Montparnasse had either died or left Paris, escaping the Nazi occupation, never to return. This district of Paris exists today as a symbol of romance and creativity and Musee Bourdelle stands as enduring evidence, echoing this artist’s heroic vision.

Author’s Note: In keeping with Bourdelle’s embrace of modernism, the new wing of Musee Bourdelle is dedicated to exhibiting works of contemporary artists.

by Linda Y. Peng, Contributing Writer

To learn more about kouros, go to: www.ancient-greece.org/art/kouros.html