Renoir's Dancer

by Catherine Hewitt

  But everyone was curious to know: what did the orphan think of his région maternelle?

  Maurice gave a faint smile. ‘This is a sin I will commit again,’ he answered. ‘It is so beautiful here, one of the most picturesque corners of the world I know.’

  Bessines, the local paper reported, had honoured its child. And it had done so in true Limousin style – with frankness and spontaneity.

  Suzanne Valadon knew better than anyone: there is no mystery greater than the human self. Maurice shied away from it, but Suzanne tried to understand it – again and again, in all its forms. ‘I have found myself,’ Suzanne told Jean Vertex at the end of her life. ‘I made myself what I am, and I think I have said what I had to say.’ Having achieved that, ‘what would be the good of going on?’ Suzanne had asked.2

  Never was provenance more pertinent. The self is shaped and perpetuated through lineage, and through those links, transcends time. That day, the fille du peuple returned to her roots. And so the legacy continues.

  Appendix

  TO MY MOTHER

  by Maurice Utrillo

  Suzanne Valadon, my mother is thus named.

  She is a noble woman, as beautiful as she is good

  In virtue, in beauty; and what’s more, God of genius

  Endowed her with His divine breath.

  Then, of all the arts, the fine one of

  painting was bestowed on her

  So that she could reach

  Unimaginable summits defying humans

  Where enthroned are the masters, only the pure, a very few.

  With a firm and sure brush, defying matter,

  She enchants, she animates sky, flowers and stone.

  Houses have a soul, amid their profound secrets

  Which she embellishes in spite of what the Beaux-Arts decree.

  Her personality both so great and so pure

  And with her mastery of human form

  The most complex face, the most enigmatic laugh,

  Is instinctively interpreted onto her canvas in a single stroke.

  In magic colours, blending natural tones,

  Darker hues and pinks to paint Caucasians, sepia for blacks

  (Black women to be precise), oh how many paintings!

  So many fine subjects, titanic works!

  In a word, and this to my modesty

  From her breast giving me life and nectar

  With her noble art, she anticipates and fulfils my wishes,

  She whom I love, adore, with a pious love.

  Maurice Utrillo, V.

  Afterword

  For Suzanne Valadon’s admirers, in death, as in life, she did not receive the recognition she deserved.

  With international tension mounting, Suzanne’s passing inevitably jostled for press space among the fusillade of topical news items. Adolf Hitler was accruing power with ominous rapacity, and shortly before Suzanne died, Germany had annexed Austria. Meanwhile, the edition of Regards containing Suzanne’s homage bore a half-shot of a Chinese fighter on its cover, one of those branded a hero as he and his fellow students marched to defend their country against the Japanese.1

  Nevertheless, the art world was determined to honour the painter many now saw as the matriarch of creative rebellion and gutsy expressivity. Georges Kars was the first to do so when he produced a drawing of Suzanne’s body as she lay in state. Louis Vauxcelles wrote a long and respectful article for Le Monde illustré. Though he guarded against excessive reverence, he now conceded that since the death of Berthe Morisot, Suzanne was ‘the strongest [woman painter] of all’, and ‘the greatest contemporary “paintress”’.2 Coming from Vauxcelles, that was praise indeed. Édouard Herriot, Adolphe Tabarant, Claude Roger-Marx and Adolphe Basler were among the artistic elite to join Vauxcelles and pay their respects in a full-page spread in Beaux-Arts.3 But it was Yves-Bonnat who offered Suzanne the ultimate compliment in Regards, the kind of recognition for which she had always strived: Suzanne, he asserted, was not simply a great woman artist – she was un grand peintre.4

  Suzanne’s mark on the art world was reiterated just a few months later when Jean Boulant, the novelist who had recommended the suburb of Le Vésinet to Lucie and Maurice, decided to write Maurice Utrillo’s Love Story. The tale took Maurice’s relationship with Lucie as its subject, and threatened to divulge all manner of scintillating gossip on Suzanne, Maurice and Utter when it was printed in Paris-Soir. Angered by what they felt to be the exposure of one of their own, a committee of artists including Pablo Picasso, André Derain, Adolphe Basler, André Warnod, Maurice de Vlaminck and Jean Dufy wrote a formal protest to be printed in Beaux-Arts. Maurice was quick to respond with a letter, which he asked to appear alongside their opposition on 18 November 1938. He expressed his gratitude for their concern, but informed them politely yet firmly that he was in no need of their defence. He was aware of the author’s project, and in any case, the book was far less objectionable than previous works which depicted him as fit only for a psychiatric ward.5

  André Utter was apparently not consulted. Utter was haunted by the memory of his late wife for the rest of his days, obsessed with the cult of Valadon which he strove to perpetuate. Having sold the château in Saint-Bernard in 1943, Utter returned to the Rue Cortot where he painted still lifes, portraits and landscapes. He gave talks and lectures on Suzanne and Maurice, produced articles on the artists, and even planned to write a book, for which preparatory notes are held by the Musée Nationale d’Art Moderne at the Centre Georges Pompidou. The book was never finished; Utter died of pneumonia in 1948 in his early 60s. ‘I can only reproach him for having abused my mother in words and actions,’ was Maurice’s single criticism in an otherwise considerate article he wrote on his stepfather’s death. ‘Let us not dwell on that.’6

  Maurice Utrillo lived with Lucie at Le Vésinet for the rest of his life, his painting, his faith and his wife his sole preoccupations. He never attained sobriety. Thanks to Lucie’s business acumen, the Utrillos became wealthy. They lived in comfort, took their holidays in Dax and on the Riviera, and when they did venture out from ‘La Bonne Lucie’ to socialise, they rubbed shoulders with the most elegant company. In the late 1940s, they became acquainted with Prince Aly Khan and Rita Hayworth, and to Lucie’s gratification they were invited to attend the couple’s wedding. But for all the glamour and the fame, Maurice was once asked, did he not miss Montmartre? No, he answered hastily, people there were idiots and all that mattered to him now was his wife and his painting. Then when Lucie had left the room: ‘There’s not an hour that I don’t think of it.’7

  In the early 1950s, Maurice appeared in Sacha Guitry’s film Si Paris nous était conté (released in 1956), in which he played himself. Afterwards, he travelled with Lucie to Dax to take their annual spa treatment. While there, he fell ill. Three days later, on 5 November 1955, Maurice died at one o’clock in the afternoon – the same time as he was born. An incomplete gouache was found on his easel after he died; it was a study of 12, Rue Cortot.8 Maurice Utrillo’s paintings remain sought after and still command enormous sums whenever they appear at auction.

  Lucie Utrillo dedicated the rest of her life to caring for Maurice, managing his career and, after his death, perpetuating his legacy. After Suzanne died, she fancied she too might be a painter, and started producing what a contemporary described as ‘crudely drawn’ compositions using ‘bright, flat colours’.9 Figures, flowers and her dogs were her subjects of choice. Lucie always venerated Suzanne, ‘but of course,’ she told one of Maurice’s biographers, ‘the future will tell how great I am going to be, and the future will choose’.10 She took her role as a famous artist’s wife with the utmost seriousness, and the couple’s newfound prosperity meant that she could select the appropriate costumes to play the part. They were invariably sourced from Paris’s top fashion houses: ‘I must dress in keeping with my name as the wife of the greatest painter in France,’ she reasoned.11 When Maurice died, Lucie was devastated. She died in Paris in 1965.


  Even after Maurice, Utter and Lucie had passed away, Robert Le Masle continued his admirable quest to safeguard Suzanne’s memory. In 1961, the doctor orchestrated the dedication of a square in Suzanne’s honour. The Place Suzanne-Valadon can be found in the 18th arrondissement in Paris between the Sacré-Coeur and the Boulevard de Rochechouart. Le Masle left his substantial collection of letters, photographs, documents and objects to the Musée Nationale d’Art Moderne. Collectively, they tell Suzanne’s tale.

  In 1960, 12, Rue Cortot became the Musée de Montmartre, with a mission to retell the history of Montmartre through artefacts, photographs, documents and drawings. The Musée Utrillo-Valadon at Sannois, the Association Maurice Utrillo (created by Lucie in 1963) and the Espace Valadon in Bessines also remain committed to preserving Suzanne’s and Maurice’s memory. In September 2015, La Poste issued a commemorative stamp to mark the 150th anniversary of Suzanne’s birth. Fittingly, it showed the 1924 painting Woman with White Stockings, a piece created when Suzanne was at the pinnacle of her artistic career.

  In her lifetime, Suzanne Valadon is known to have produced some 478 paintings, 273 drawings and 31 etchings. This takes no account of pieces which were given away or destroyed. Her surviving works hang proudly on the walls of permanent collections across the world, with many located in France and the USA. There have been numerous exhibitions dedicated to Suzanne’s work since her death, including several coordinated by Lucie which showcased her own paintings alongside Suzanne’s and Maurice’s, such as the show at the Hammer Gallery in New York in 1958. Important Valadon retrospectives took place in Paris in 1939, 1947 and 1967. A large exhibition of her paintings and drawings was mounted at the Fondation Pierre Gianadda in Switzerland in 1996, while the shows Valadon Utrillo: Au tournant du siècle à Montmartre – de l’Impressionisme à l’École de Paris at the Pinacothèque de Paris in 2009 and Valadon, Utrillo & Utter à l’atelier de la rue Cortot: 1912–1926 at the Musée de Montmartre in 2015 have also provided valuable opportunities to enjoy her paintings and drawings. Meanwhile, Suzanne still greets viewers with her challenging stare as she gazes out of the compositions of Renoir, Toulouse-Lautrec and so many other great artists whose works now hang in museums around the world.

  All too often, Suzanne Valadon has been relegated to a cursory footnote in the tomes of art history. A burgeoning library of scholarship on women’s art has begun to rectify this oversight. However, for many, she remains Utrillo’s mother, Renoir’s model, Toulouse-Lautrec’s muse. Illustrious names cast a long shadow; Suzanne was a victim of the company she kept. But besides her connections to some of France’s greatest male artists, Suzanne’s lack of prominence owes as much to the challenge her work presents and her rejection of the label ‘woman artist’. She espoused no theory and adhered to no school. She simply painted what she saw with honesty and conviction. Suzanne employed bold outlines and strong colours, and pared subjects down to their bare essentials as she sought to understand the world around her. ‘I can’t flatter a subject,’ she once warned an admirer.12 And therein lies the challenge at the heart of her creative oeuvre: truth. Suzanne’s viewers must prepare themselves for honesty and passion. Truth can be uncomfortable; it is not always pretty. There is nothing half-hearted about Suzanne Valadon’s work. It is up to the viewer to decide whether they wish to turn their back on what the artist shows them – or whether, like Maurice and Utter, they are prepared to let Valadon take their hand and lead them on a journey so dramatic and so vivid that it is one they are likely never to forget.

  Acknowledgements

  When I first pushed open the heavy oak door to the derelict Limousin cottage that would become my second home, I had no suspicion that a great painter had been born just minutes away, still less that her life would become such an integral part of my own. It takes many viewpoints to show a subject in multiple dimensions; I am grateful to the individuals and organisations who have helped me bring Suzanne’s story to life.

  Sincere thanks are due to Duncan Heath, Andrew Furlow, Robert Sharman, Jasmin Singh and the publishing team at Icon Books, as well as to Ruth Killick. In addition, the dedication, support and sheer hard work of my agent, Andrew Lownie, never fail to impress me.

  This book has been enriched by the first-hand accounts of people whose lives were personally touched by Suzanne and Maurice. The recollections of Jeanine Warnod, who remembers Suzanne’s visits to her house when she was a little girl, brought colour to Suzanne’s character for me. Similarly, Christiane Barny Duditlieu’s vivid memories of Maurice’s and Lucie’s visit to Bessines-sur-Gartempe in 1949 formed the starting point of this book.

  A number of experts, associations, museums and galleries have been of tremendous assistance. I am profoundly grateful to Jean Michel Buck at the Musée de Montmartre et Jardins Renoir for having been so generous with his time and assistance throughout this project. Isabelle Ducatez at the museum has also been a great source of knowledge. Hélène Bruneau at the Association Utrillo has been an invaluable point of contact in verifying the chronology and particulars of Maurice Utrillo’s life, and Cédric Paillier has also been immensely helpful. I have also been fortunate to benefit from the assistance of staff at the Musée Utrillo-Valadon at Sannois. My research into daily life in the 19th-century Limousin has been greatly assisted by Pascale Marouseau at the Archives Départmentales de la Haute-Vienne and Hélène Jager at the Musée René Baubérot in Châteauponsac. I am equally indebted to Christine Papin, Emmanuel Soyer and Ludovic Guiral at the Centre d’Archives Historiques de la SNCF for the research into train times and travel costs from the Limousin to Paris in the 19th century. My understanding of Suzanne’s time in other parts of France has been enhanced by Elisabeth Guillaume at the Archives de Nantes and Maureen Brugaro at the Office de Tourisme de Cancale. The Filles de la Charité de Saint Vincent de Paul were kind enough to share their archives with me; this proved indispensable when piecing together Suzanne’s educational history. Thanks are also owed to Mme de la Rivière of the École de Saint-Jean de Montmartre. Isabelle Lawson and Michel King at the Société Nationale des Beaux-Arts were most generous in sharing their thoughts on Suzanne’s involvement with the society. My immense gratitude also goes to Guy-Patrice Dauverville at Bernheim-Jeune & Cie for his diligent research into the gallery’s archives which shed light on Suzanne’s and Maurice’s relationship with Bernheim-Jeune. In addition, I should like to thank Professor Tamar Garb at University College London for her time and thoughts regarding painting as a woman in 19th-century France.

  I am grateful to all the museums, galleries and collections who have kindly allowed works to be reproduced in this book. Staff at the British Library in London, the Courtauld Institute of Art Book Library and the Witt Library at Somerset House have been of great assistance. In Paris, I am indebted to staff at the Musée d’Orsay, the Musée Carnavalet and the Bibliothèque Kandinsky (particularly Brigitte Vincens and Dominique Liquois) at the Centre Georges Pompidou.

  Professor John House has never been far from my thoughts while writing; I hope he would approve of the results. Mention should also be made of Suzanne Courdesses-Betout, whose legacy of research on Suzanne has made my own work so much easier.

  Professor Colin Davis at Royal Holloway, University of London continues to be a valued point of reference, guidance and support. Once again, Sarah Sears’s scrupulous attention to detail and the literary expertise of Harriet Reuter Hapgood have been greatly appreciated.

  Special thanks must be extended to Professor David Russell Jones, Dr Michelle Conn, Joanne Wallis and Alison Little. All have ensured that the tools of the trade remain in optimum order.

  Suzanne Valadon was a fille du peuple, and this book would not have been the same without her people – the people of Bessines, for whom it is written. From the outset, Cécile Bonnefoy Cudraz and Sylvie Dupic at the Office de Tourisme in Bessines have shown extraordinary support for both this project and its author, going out of their way to source documents and pursue contacts, at once fa
cilitating and enriching the process of research – mille fois merci les deux. I am indebted to l’Association Racines à Bessines for allowing me to access the Valadons’ birth, marriage and death records. I am grateful to Père Nicolas Sabléry for making the church records accessible and to Mme Blanche Brisset for taking time to study them with me. Monsieur and Mme Pierre Chastenet showed me extraordinary generosity and hospitality when I was researching the Auberge Guimbaud. It is thanks to the passion and dedication of Bessinauds like Didier and Dany Deroussen at the Café de la Place, Jean-Pierre and Gladys Faurie and their team at the Maison Faurie Boulangerie, and Pascal and Françoise Voisin at the Hôtel Bellevue, that Bessines remains the lively hub of community spirit which has long been its distinguishing quality. I feel especially privileged to have been the recipient of the kindness and friendship of all those in Les Petits Magneux, in particular Jacques Tanty, Irène Blondin, and Raymond and Yvonne Geay.

  Lastly, my heartfelt gratitude goes to my family. As ever, John, Elaine and Sam Hewitt have been a constant source of love, support and friendship, as well as a welcome proofreading service.

  And finally, thank you to Alex Forrest – for proving that when you wish upon a star, sometimes, dreams really do come true.

  Selected Bibliography

  Please note that some of the links referenced throughout this work are no longer active.

  (MNAM – Musée National d’Art Moderne)

  Books

  1900: Art at the Crossroads, exhib. cat. (London: Royal Academy of Arts, 2000)

  Adler, Kathleen & Tamar Garb, eds, The Correspondence of Berthe Morisot (London: Camden Press Ltd, 1986)