DANCE OF THE NYMPHS

Questions to arouse interest. Of what is this a picture? What time of the year do you think it is? what time of the day? What are the people doing? Half close your eyes and look at the picture. What do you see first? what next? Where is the sun? How do you know? (Look at the trunks of the trees and the shadows.) What do you see in the foreground to the left? to the right? Do you like this scene? why?

Original Picture: Luxembourg Gallery, Paris, France.
Artist: Jean Baptiste Camille Corot [(k[+o]´r[+o]´´)].
Birthplace: Paris, France.
Dates: Born, 1796; died, 1875.

The story of the picture. The artist who painted this picture, Jean Baptiste Corot, tells us that when he was a small boy he used to lean out of his window at night, long after his mother and father thought him safe in bed, to watch the clouds, the sky, and the trees. He continued this study as a young man, and soon made friends with three other young men, all artists (Rousseau, Daubigny, and Dupré) who were also studying nature. All had studios and painted in the city; but they were always longing for a glimpse of the country. One day the four started out together for a day's outing, each taking his painter's outfit. They went to the end of the omnibus line from Paris and then started on foot for a long tramp across the country. It was then they thought of the great Forest of Fontainebleau, where nature was wild and undisturbed in its wondrous beauty.

"We will go to that beautiful forest and spend our vacation there," they said.

And so it came about several weeks later. In this forest, at all times of the day or night, they could be found wandering about, searching out new vistas and discovering new wonders and beauties in nature.

They hid their paints and brushes in the rocks to keep them from the dew, and they themselves slept under the spreading branches of the great oak trees. These city-bred young men, brought up in the rush and hurry of the great city of Paris, cared for no other shelter than the wide expanse of sky and the protecting branches of the trees.

So when we know that later Corot came to live near this Forest of Fontainebleau, it is easy to guess where he painted this picture called the "Dance of the Nymphs." Sometimes this picture is called "Morning," for Corot painted another picture much like this one, and called it, "The Dance of the Nymphs, Evening."

Corot is often spoken of as the "happy one," and many stories are told of him and how surprising it was to hear him singing lustily as he painted. Seated on his camp stool before his easel, wearing his blue calico blouse and painter's hat, he was indeed happy. He is described as adding the finishing touches to one of his landscapes in this way:

"Let us put that there—tra, la, tra, la,—a little boy,—ding dong, ding dong! Oh, a little boy, he wants a cap—la, la, la, la, tra la!"

People always smiled when they saw Corot start out, carrying his easel, paints, and brushes, and singing or whistling like a care-free boy. But it happened more often that they saw him going toward home in the evening, for he had a way of starting out before sunrise when nobody was about and seating himself in some lovely spot in the woods, waiting breathlessly to see what would happen next.

That is what he did the morning he sketched this picture. The grass was heavy with dew, the birds were still asleep, all was quiet and covered with the veil of night. As the mist slowly lifted, the great trees gradually assumed definite shapes, the birds awoke, the sun shone forth, and all was bright and fresh as the early mornings in spring always are. Look at this picture, then close your eyes and open them slowly, and you yourself can see just such an awakening to life.

Is it any wonder then that, as Corot sat, pencil in hand, this lovely spring morning and watched the trees gradually take shape against the slowly lightening sky, and listened to the birds singing their morning greeting, he should fancy he saw the fairy wood nymphs come out from their secret hiding places and dance joyously about in the bright morning sunlight? It seems most natural indeed that they should be there, and dancing, too. The mere fact of being alive on such a morning as this fills us too with delight.

When Corot began to paint his large picture from the small sketch he made in the woods that morning, he must have sung his merriest tunes. The picture seems full of music, from the quivering leaves, the waving grass, and the shifting clouds to the dancing figures. Although there is not a bird in sight, we know that they are there, and it takes very little imagination to hear them singing.

At the right-hand side of the picture one of the wood nymphs has seized the hand of a timid companion, urging her to come and join in the frolic. So much are we in sympathy with those merry ones that we too find ourselves unconsciously urging her to join in the dance.

When he painted trees, Corot did not pay very great attention to details, and so we cannot always tell what kind of trees they were. He cared most to make us feel the beauty of the sunlight on their tender leaves, their growth, and the protection they offer to birds and men.

A young art student once approached Corot and asked him why he left so many things out of his pictures and put others in. Then pointing to a certain tree in Corot's painting he said, "This tree is not in the landscape." Corot smiled, then whispered to him, "Don't you tell, but I put it there to please the birds."

It would be difficult indeed to find a single straight line in our picture, so full is it of rhythmic curves, from the treetops to the graceful figures in the foreground. The skillful blending of colors, of light and shade, gives it that mysterious, misty quality which is one of its chief charms. Corot's favorite colors were pale green, gray browns, and silvery grays. One little touch of bright color in his pictures makes them alive. The costumes of the nymphs were chosen for the very few bright touches in this painting, and the tall, slender tree near the left-hand side of the picture for the pale green feathery foliage of early spring.

Our eye moves pleasantly through all the leafy maze of this enchanted forest. We are at the edge of the woods. Looking out through the trees we see the wide, open fields beyond, with their high canopy of sky, and we feel a new contentment steal over us as our eye again seeks this sheltered nook in the great Forest of Fontainebleau.

Questions to help the pupil understand the picture. How had the artist, Corot, studied the clouds, sky, and trees? With whom did he become friends? What were these three young artists doing? Where did they go for an outing? What did they take with them? What forest did they decide would be a good place to spend a vacation? How did they live in this forest? What shelter did they have? What nickname did they give Corot? How did he like to paint? How did he dress? What did he do while painting? Where was this picture painted? What is it sometimes called? What time of day did he usually start out to paint? What are the nymphs doing? What did Corot wish to tell us about the trees? What did a young art student once ask Corot? What was the answer? Of what kind of lines is this picture made up? What colors were used? Where are the bright colors? In what part of the forest is this picture? What can you see through the open space?

The story of the artist. From the very first all things seemed to favor Corot. Of a naturally happy disposition, born into a family of means, and all his life free from financial worries, everything seemed to combine to make his life one of care-free ease and pleasure.

His father and mother kept a millinery store; this must have been a good business, for they soon accumulated a comfortable fortune.

At ten years of age Corot was sent away to school at Rouen in the hope of making a business man of him. He lived with a friend of his father who was a serious man but also a great lover of nature. Corot took many a long walk with him over narrow, unfrequented paths. They took these walks usually at the close of the day, and so Corot's love of the twilight hour grew strong.

Upon his return to Paris seven years later, his father placed him in a drygoods store, where he remained for nearly nine years. Whenever there were no customers the boy would hide under the counter and draw. His employer was a good-natured man and he sympathized with Corot in his desire to be a painter. So he told the father it was of no use to try to make a business man of him as his tastes were all for art.

About this time Corot went to his father and asked his permission to study painting. The father was not at all pleased with the idea, but decided to let him try. He told his son he had set aside a certain sum of money to start him in business for himself and he could choose that or a small income which would be allowed him for the study of art. If he chose the latter, however, he must not expect any other help from his father, as he did not approve of this new venture. But Corot embraced his father most affectionately and declared he had made him the happiest person in the world. He then proceeded at once to the nearest store and bought a complete painter's outfit. Choosing a spot by the river near his father's house, he began to paint. He tells us how the girls who worked in the millinery store slipped away and came to see what he was doing. He never parted with this first painting, but kept it as a reminder of his great happiness when he was at last free to do "what he most desired in the world."

He studied under several artists, but received little encouragement until he went to Rome to study.

Most of the paintings of that time were classical, including Greek temples, shepherds, nymphs, or dryads, and such trees as cedars and palms. That is why Millet's simple peasants and Corot's misty landscapes were not appreciated.

At Rome, Corot became a great favorite among the students because of his happy nature and the rollicking, jolly songs he could sing. But as for his pictures,—they were considered very amusing.

However, one day as he sat sketching the Coliseum a friend who was regarded as an authority on landscape painting praised his work. Corot looked around expecting to be laughed at, but no,—the man was in earnest. That evening, before all the other students, he remarked that Corot might some day become the master of them all. This gave him standing among the artists and was greatly appreciated by Corot, who always felt that this praise was the beginning of his success. It was not long after this that his pictures were exhibited and many honors came to him.

Does it seem strange that Corot and Millet, looking upon the same woods and people, living and painting so near each other, should choose such different subjects? Corot saw the same poor, toilworn peasants, and he helped them most generously when they asked him, but as for painting them—he did not think of it. Millet saw the same beautiful woods, fields, and sky, and loved them all, but to him the peasant came first.

He said, "Corot's pictures are beautiful, but they do not reveal anything new."

Corot said, "Millet's painting is for a new world; I do not feel at home there. I am too much attracted to the old. I see therein great knowledge, air, and depth, but it frightens me; I love better my little music."

In speaking of another artist he said, "He is an eagle; I am only a skylark. I send forth little songs in my gray clouds."

As success came to Corot he was most generous in helping others. Many young artists came to study with him, but he would accept no pay for his instruction and gladly did all he could to encourage and help them.

He did not have the heart to turn a beggar from his door, and often had as many as twenty-five come to him in a day. The story is told of a beggar who demanded a larger sum of money than Corot usually gave, and was refused. After he left, the artist could not paint; his day was spoiled. So he hurriedly ran out after the beggar, gave him the money, and all was well again.

During the siege of Paris he gave both time and money to help the wounded. "Papa Corot," as the people called him, was greatly beloved.

The demand for his paintings increased. He said that when youth left him, honor and fame came to make him still the happiest man in the world.

Questions about the artist. In what ways was Corot favored? What did his father and mother do? What did they hope to make of Corot? Where was he sent? With whom did he live? Where did they walk? How did this influence Corot? Upon his return home, what did he do? What did his employer finally do? What did Corot ask his father? What offer did his father make? What did Corot decide? What did he do at once? Who came to watch him? What became of this first painting? Where did Corot go to study? What subjects did most of the artists of Corot's time choose to paint? What happened that raised Corot in their estimation? Compare the subjects chosen by Corot and Millet. Tell about Corot and the beggar. Why did Corot claim to be the happiest man in the world? Does this picture make you feel happy or sad? why?

OXEN PLOWING

Questions to arouse interest. How many of you have ever watched oxen plowing? How are these oxen geared together? How many oxen usually draw one plow? Why do you think they use so many in the field? With what part of the body do the oxen pull the plow? Why is the earth plowed? How can you tell that the soil these men are plowing is moist and fertile? In what direction is the sun? (Look at the shadows.) How is the driver urging the oxen on? Where is the farm house? What do you consider most interesting about the oxen?

Original Picture: Luxembourg Gallery, Paris, France.
Artist: Rosa Bonheur [(b[+o]´nûr´´)].
Birthplace: Bordeaux, France.
Dates: Born, 1822; died, 1899.

The story of the picture. It must have been very early in the morning indeed when these men and their oxen started to plow this great field, for although the sun is still low in the sky, each group of oxen has already plowed two furrows. By those long shadows and the light in the sky we know the sun cannot be very high in the heavens, and there is that about the ground, the occupation, and the distant trees that suggests the season, spring.

We are told that Rosa Bonheur went out into the country to paint this picture, and that she had a small shed made into a studio where she could keep her canvas and paints. Every evening when she came home her father would ask anxiously about the picture, for he was not well enough to go to see it and he knew Rosa was working very hard on it.

Even her genius could not make it possible for her to paint such a picture as this without much preparation. In fact, she had been preparing for it for years,—as far back as when she made her first drawing of oxen, and then later when she went to the packing houses and made separate studies of each part of an ox. She knew just how those great muscles did their work, and just how the curving ribs and the joints did their part. In this picture she shows us just enough of their movements to make us feel the great strength and power of those patient animals.

Our wonder grows anew that even one such powerful ox can be controlled by man's will. It is plain to see that the ox nearest us, of the middle pair, does resent the prodding with the stick which the driver uses so vigorously. His great eye rolls and he looks indignant, but it is only for the moment—he accepts all with resignation and indifference, knowing that it will be the turn of one of the other oxen next. These oxen are geared together by a central pole which is fastened to their horns. This causes them to take the entire weight of the plow with their horns instead of with their shoulders as our horses do. It would seem to be a most uncomfortable arrangement, yet they are used to it.

The leaders must be chosen very carefully if the farmer would have a straight furrow. It seems as if these first two oxen in the picture feel the responsibility, and are glad and willing to do their part. There is a look of intelligence about them that makes us certain that they know and understand the worth of the thing they are doing.

Oxen in our country are driven by the words "gee," meaning turn to the right, and "haw," turn to the left. However, the drivers in this picture would not use these words, for they are Frenchmen, and would speak to them in their own language.

It is easy to tell that the ground is soft by the way the feet of the oxen sink down into it, and by the man's wooden shoe which has half slipped off his foot as he starts to lift it from the ground. On this quiet, peaceful morning we can almost hear the heavy tread of the oxen as they pass us, and the harsh call of the drivers as they urge them on. In imagination we can smell the freshly plowed earth. To be sure, it is a hard pull up the hill, but how cheerfully, even proudly, the oxen pull their load! Look at their backs; you will see a slanting line which emphasizes the fact that they are climbing a hill. This line is broken somewhat by the slant of the woods in the distance. Cover up these distant woods with the hand or a piece of paper and we immediately have the uncomfortable feeling that the oxen are going to slip back out of the picture.

In this picture the artist has portrayed the intelligent use man makes of the power and strength of animals and of the soil. We see so few oxen now that we wonder why they were so much used in those days; but of course we know it was because the farmers did not have the machinery for tilling the ground, sowing, and planting grain that we have. Horses were used also, but oxen were cheaper, so all could afford them. Then, too, oxen may have been chosen because of their superior strength, steadiness, and patience.

The artist has centered our attention on the nearest of the two first pairs of oxen. The other oxen and driver are of secondary importance and the landscape itself last of all. The artist has accomplished this by color, light, and shade, and by a more careful treatment of the nearest oxen, showing plainly their intelligent eyes, wrinkled hides, and even the play of muscles as they step forward, pulling their heavy load.

Rosa Bonheur finished this painting only a short time before her father died. As soon as he saw it he knew that his daughter had painted a masterpiece, and almost his last words were in praise of her work.

Questions to help the pupil understand the picture. Why do you think these men and oxen must have started to work very early? Why do you think it is still early? What time of year do you think it is? why? Where did Rosa Bonheur paint this picture? Where did she keep her canvas and paints? What preparation did she make before painting the picture? What is the driver doing? In what humor does the nearest ox seem to be? How are the oxen geared together? Why must they have good leaders? How are oxen driven? Why do you think these drivers would not use the same words that we should? How can you tell that the ground is soft? Do you think the oxen are pulling hard? Why did they use oxen so much in those days? What are used now? Upon which of the oxen has the artist centered our attention? What is next in importance? last of all? How has the artist done this? What did Rosa Bonheur's father think of this picture?

To the Teacher:

Subjects for Compositions

The Picture and What It Represents.
How This Picture Was Painted.
What I Would Consider Most Important in a Picture.
Why I Like This Picture.
Rosa Bonheur as a Little Girl.
Rosa Bonheur as an Artist.

The story of the artist. Marie Rosalie Bonheur spent the first ten years of her life in a little country town. It was almost as good as living in the country, for Rosa and her two brothers spent most of their time in the woods or fields. At home they had lambs, rabbits, and squirrels for pets.

The father was an artist, and since he could not sell many pictures in such a little village he decided to move to the great city of Paris. The children liked the gay city with its many surprises, but they missed the woods and their pets. The first place in which they lived was up several flights of stairs and across the street from a butcher's shop. This shop had a queer sign. It was a wild boar roughly carved out of wood, but it looked so much like the little pet pig Rosa had in the country that she used to stop and pet it every time she passed that way.

A man who lived in the same house with the Bonheur family kept a small school for boys. Rosa's two brothers went to this school, and after a while the teacher said Rosa might come too. She was the only girl in the school, but she did not mind that at all. The boys were glad to have her with them, for she knew more games than they did and played just like one of them.

Her father did not do so well with his painting as he had hoped, so they moved into a cheaper house. It was here that Rosa's mother died. The father was obliged to send his children where they could be well cared for, so the baby daughter, Juliette, was sent to her grandmother, the two boys to school, and Rosa went to live with an aunt. This aunt sent her to school. To reach the schoolhouse Rosa had to walk some distance through the woods. Sometimes she would stop and smooth the dust in the road with her hand and then draw pictures in it with a stick. Even then she liked to draw pictures of animals best of all. Often she had such a good time drawing that she forgot to go to school, or was very late, so she did not get along very well and was delighted when her father came to take her home. He had married again and wanted all his children with him. How happy they were!

A great many stories have been told about the pets they kept in their house. Rosa's brother Isidore carried a little lamb on his shoulders down six flights of stairs every morning and evening, that it might nibble the green grass and be out in the fresh air. It became a great pet, and all the children drew its picture in ever so many different positions. Besides, they had a parrot, a monkey, two dogs, and some rabbits and birds for pets. Their father let them keep these pets in a room fitted especially for them.

The father taught in a private school at that time, and was away from home all day, but when he came home at night Rosa would show him what she had been doing while he was gone. Once she had been painting cherries, and her father came home while she was at work on them. He praised her very much and helped her finish painting them.

In the evening Rosa, her two brothers, and her father used to put their easels in different parts of the big room and draw and paint until it was quite late. They would all much rather do this than anything else in the world, and it was the only time their father could help them.

The father belonged to a religious order called the "Saint Simonians." The members wore queer gowns and bonnets with long tassels. Such a bonnet with a big tassel Rosa wore on the street, and sometimes boys shouted and laughed at her, but she paid no attention to that.

The father secured a teaching position in another private school and earned enough money to send his three children there and give them all they needed at home.

Rosa did not behave very well in school. Often she was punished, sometimes by being given nothing to eat but bread and water. Every one liked her, however, for she was good-hearted, kind, and full of fun. But finally she did something that could not be overlooked. This is what she did. The lady who kept the school was very fond of flowers, and above all she loved the stately hollyhocks. She had a beautiful bed of them in the front yard of the school that was very much admired by all who passed. One day Rosa had been reading in the history about war, and she thought it would be fine fun to arrange a battle between the school girls. They used wooden sticks for swords. Very soon the girls on Rosa's side drove their enemies toward the hollyhock bed, where they turned and fled. Seeing the hollyhocks standing guard like soldiers, Rosa thought it would be fun to charge upon them, which she did, cutting off all their heads with her stick. Is it any wonder she was sent home in disgrace?

Her father then sent her to a dressmaker to see if she could learn that trade, but Rosa did not like dressmaking and finally went home without having learned very much. Then some friends gave her some photographs to color. This she liked to do, so her father decided that the only thing to do was to let her paint.

Rosa was willing to walk miles in all kinds of weather, to sit hours in all kinds of uncomfortable positions, and to go without food in order to draw a good picture of some animal. Now she began her study of animals in earnest. She went to all the country horse fairs, to the slaughter houses, and wherever there was an opportunity to study them.

Rosa never had very pretty clothes. She tells us herself that one day a parrot called after her "Ha, ha! That hat!" Now that she was grown up she found she could not get about very easily in her long skirts. There were so many rough men in the packing houses and in other places where she must go to study that she obtained a permit to wear men's clothing. Her hair was short, anyway, and with her blue working blouse and dark trousers she looked just like a man. Then no one noticed her as she went about, for they thought her one of the workmen. People who knew her did not mind her dress, and were ready to help her as much as they could in her work. The first picture she exhibited was of some little rabbits nibbling carrots.

Her pictures became famous the world over. From all over the country she received gifts of fine horses and other animals to paint. Buffalo Bill once sent her two fine horses from Texas. She bought a farm, and had a very large barn built where she could keep her animals.

How proud her father was of her!

One day she was working hard in her studio when a servant came to tell her that the Empress Eugénie had come to see her. It was a great event when this royal lady came to the artist's studio; and there was Rosa dressed in her old blue blouse covered with paint! She did not have time even to slip it off before the empress came in, but they had a most delightful visit. As the Empress Eugénie bent over and kissed Rosa Bonheur, she pinned the Cross of the Legion of Honor on the artist's blue blouse. Rosa did not notice it until after the Empress was gone. How pleased she must have been, for she was the first woman to receive that honor.

Questions about the artist. What is the artist's full name? Where did she live the first ten years of her life? What did the father do for a living? Why did they move to the city? How did the children like this change? In what kind of a house did they live? Tell about Rosa and the wild boar; the school for boys. Why did they move? What became of the children after their mother died? Why was Rosa often late to school? Who came to take her home? Tell about the new home and the pets; Isidore and the lamb. How did they all spend their evenings? Tell about the "Saint Simon" bonnet. How did Rosa behave at the private school? Tell about Rosa and the hollyhocks. How was she punished? What trade did her father wish her to learn? What was she willing to do in order to paint pictures? Where did she go to study animals? How did she dress? Why did she dress like a man? What presents did she receive? Where did she keep them? Tell about the visit of the Empress Eugénie. How did she honor Rosa Bonheur?