I
In the spring of 1902 there took place in Paris the first of the exhibitions to which the new Galliera Museum is henceforth to be devoted. This Gallery, still unknown to a considerable number of English visitors, was built by Ginain in the style of the French Renaissance, and is all that a small museum should be. Its history is briefly as follows. In 1878, the Duchesse de Galliera presented to the City of Paris a plot of ground situated in the Rue Pierre-Charron by the Trocadero avenue, and undertook to erect upon it a suitable building in which to house the collection of works of art that she proposed leaving to the nation. Before, however, it was finished, and in consequence of the political events that resulted in the expulsion of the heads of princely houses from France, the Duchess had made a will in which she left her pictures to her native town of Genoa, only making provision for the completion of the Gallery. She died in 1888, and soon afterwards Paris found herself in possession of this fine museum, surrounded with gardens, and admirably appointed in the architectural detail so well understood by the French, but empty of all the treasures it was to have housed. What was to become of it? The municipal council decided that it should be devoted to industrial art, forming a sort of supplement to the Carnavalet Museum, and the necessary furnishing was undertaken with a view to that end. It was formally opened in 1895, but for five years after that remained practically empty, though purchases were made from successive Salons of different kinds of decorative art and disposed among the vacant rooms to form a nucleus for future acquisitions. In 1900 the Council, after much deliberation, decided that the museum should be devoted to periodical industrial exhibitions, and the first one, of a miscellaneous character, took place in the following year. Its distinctive feature consisted in what was an entirely new departure for France, namely, that every craftsman signed his work instead of being represented only in the name of the firm which employed him. This idea, to which we have now long been accustomed through the efforts of the Arts and Crafts Society, was a very novel one for our neighbours, and is to be adopted henceforth in all the Galliera exhibitions. The initiative met with such undoubted success that the Germans proceeded at once to start a museum at Mulhouse on similar lines. The organizing jury of the Council, which includes the foremost men of letters, artists and critics, next decided that the yearly exhibitions should each be devoted to a special branch of decorative art. The first of these was inaugurated in May 1892, in an admirably planned show of modern bindings comprising the latest developments, and, it must be added, eccentricities of ornamental book covers. The number sent in necessitated the largest gallery being set aside for their reception, and was a testimony to the confidence felt by the binders that merit would be the sole criterion. And indeed, though much interesting work was rejected, not only were the well-known artists well represented, such as Michel, Mercier, Gruel, Ruban, Canape, Lortic, Carayon, etc., but room was found for the curious vellum covers of Pierre Roche and the incised and modelled leather of Lepère with whom Michel and others so happily collaborate. The impression made upon the visitor was at once one of careful selection and admirable disposition. In contrast to the wretched instalment offered by the great Exhibition of 1900, the work of every binder was seen to the best advantage, the eye was not fatigued by too many show-cases, and the harmony of surroundings left nothing to be desired. The display of works of art is in itself a study, and we could undoubtedly learn much from the French in the excellent arrangement of their galleries. But what a strange transition from that great room in the Bibliothèque Nationale, where rest at last the classic specimens of work that may without exaggeration be included among the fine arts, to this most modern of collections! When in the Bibliothèque Nationale we are reminded of that exquisite sonnet of Hérédia—
30. Bound by Marius Michel.
31. Bound by Marius Michel.
VÉLIN DORÉ
Vieux maître relieur, l’or que tu ciselas
Au dos du livre et dans l’épaisseur de la tranche
N’a plus, malgré les fers poussés d’une main franche
La rutilante ardeur de ses premiers éclats.
Les chiffres enlacés que liait l’entrelacs
S’effacent chaque jour de la peau fine et blanche;
A peine si mes yeux peuvent suivre la branche
De lierre que tu fis serpenter sur les plats.
Mais cet ivoire souple et presque diaphane,
Marguerite, Marie, ou peut-être Diane,
De leurs doigts amoureux l’ont jadis caressé;
Et ce vélin pâli que dora Clovis Éve
Évoque, je ne sais par quel charme passé,
L’âme de leur parfum et l’ombre de leur rêve.
32. Bound by Léon Gruel.
Here in the Galliera we realize how complete is the revolution now finally effected by a people who clung long and faithfully to the traditions of a style made famous by Grolier and by the Eves, Le Gascon and Derôme. All through the nineteenth century these traditions were adhered to, carried out by Thouvenin, Simier and Capé, by Chambolle, Duru, Trautz and Cuzin, the inspired copyists of the great masters. These looked on originality as the most dangerous of innovations and a sort of disloyalty to the precedents handed down to them across the ages. Nevertheless the impending change was slowly and surely making way, fostered by Lortic and Marius Michel, the latter through his writings as well as in his work. Henri Marius Michel followed in his father’s steps: his essay on L’ornamentation des reliures modernes showed clearly the direction taken by the modern school; while the sumptuous book, La reliure du XIX siècle, by Henri Béraldi, who is both a patron and collector of distinction, may be said to have given final expression to the movement as a whole. Bookbinding, in common with larger subjects, has its bibliography. A glance over the names of the books that relate to it published during the last half-century shows well enough how interest has been displaced from the historic schools to those which have initiated entirely new forms of decoration as applied to book covers. If, then, we are struck by the contrast between past and present as regards the nature of this application of art to bindings, we are equally impressed by the contrast between the position of the binder then and now. It is no wonder that the small world of binders and their patrons in Paris were proud of the position of honour assigned to their craft in 1902. They inaugurated a series of exhibitions, which is to include ivories, lace, jewellery, furniture—every art, in fact, to which there attaches the personality that can only come from having at some time had as its exponents ‘the masters of those who know.’ Even so late as 1870 the name of Trautz was unknown, not only to the ordinary public, but to such collectors as Eugène Paillet and Quentin Bauchart, though he had been producing admirable work for thirty years. In 1878 he was decorated with the Legion of Honour, the first time that any such distinction had been offered to a binder. It was only after his retirement and subsequent return to business at the age of sixty that his fame grew till it culminated in a sort of worship that is inconceivable outside of France. Nowadays the many means of publicity would render such a state of things quite impossible. It is an age in which every one longs to see himself reflected in print or show-case; and if the workman in any line does not himself take measures for bringing his efforts to the light, there is a class whose chief occupation it is to be the discoverers of hidden talent, and to act as middlemen between the producer and the public. In Paris, binders have now a status that is looked upon with surprise and envy in England. They are still, it is true, mostly congregated on the left bank of the Seine, the quarter which was formerly in the parish of Saint-André-des-Arts, and where their guild had its church of that name, now no longer in existence. Up to five-and-twenty years ago there was hardly one that lived elsewhere, and even now it is the exception to find a binder in the more fashionable quarter. One has to climb high to reach their ateliers, invariably of very modest dimensions and where but few workmen are employed. The extensive businesses that we know in London hardly exist in Paris, and M. Gruel’s is probably the only one employing a large number of hands. For the most part two or three ‘forwarders’ and the same number of ‘finishers’ will suffice for the yearly output of a single workshop. But to these ateliers go personally the great collectors who are wealthy patrons, to discuss in detail different points of design and technique with a connoisseurship that is reserved with us for painting or sculpture. To the unstinted help and intelligent appreciation afforded by such a class of amateurs is undoubtedly due the superior position of the artistic crafts in France. Many of the bindings in the Galliera were achieved at a cost of two thousand francs, and others for three and even four thousand. There are two papers entirely devoted to the craft—La Reliure, which is the organ of the Chambre Syndicale, an association of master binders founded by M. Gruel; and Le Relieur, organ of the Chambre Syndicale Ouvrière, which is the corresponding association for workmen. Every year binders can exhibit at each of the rival Salons, at the Société des Artistes Français and the Société Nationale des Beaux-Arts, and the Galliera Exhibition is but the latest and most effective of the special exhibitions organized from time to time for the exclusive display of their work. There is a desire to make such exhibitions recurrent every ten years, so as to get a periodic outlook on the art as a whole; but it is unlikely that the next few decades will show such marked characteristics of difference as may be seen by comparison of this collection with that even of 1892 organized by the Cercle de la Librairie. It may, in fact, be suggested that the evolution—or revolution, according to the point of view taken—now at its height, will probably produce a reaction towards that greater sobriety of treatment which distinguished the best work of the past. There are, indeed, already signs that the future of binding will not lie in that emancipation from all restrictions of form and material which would seem to be the ideal of some. Precisely what that future will be rests largely, no doubt, with the collectors, who are, as has been indicated, a powerful body in France, largely on the increase. It is they who, like MM. Béraldi, Spencer, Bordes, Villebœuf, Roger, Marx, Claude Lafontaine, Baron de Claye, Louis Barthou, and many others, not only furnish binders with the means of giving full play to their imagination, but often devote their pens with enthusiasm to introducing new efforts to the numerous body of amateurs who look to them for guidance in matters of taste and are ready enough to follow their initiative.
33. Bound by Léon Gruel.
34. Bound by Léon Gruel.
The modern movement in binding may be said to have sprung out of the new form of book-collecting which began about 1870. Up to that time the book lover had confined himself entirely to eighteenth-century literature. For forty or fifty years there had been a mad rush in the salerooms for books of that period, which were then confided to Thouvenin, Simier, or Trautz, who had exercised their skill in marvellous imitations of the past, with an execution often more technically perfect than the originals. There came a time, however, when such works were exhausted—already stored away, that is to say, on the shelves of collectors, the few that occasionally appeared on the market being only to be had at prohibitive prices. Book-buyers were thus faced with the problem of what was to be their next move. Obviously to create a new taste in books and establish a fresh motive for collecting was a necessity, and a few pioneers decided to set the fashion in illustrated books of the nineteenth century. Léon Conquet, whose reputation as a publisher is associated with the production of many fine works, at once rose to the occasion, and made a name first with his editions of the romantics of the nineteenth century, and then with original editions of contemporary authors. Clients for whom the old tastes had become too rare and costly an indulgence were thus provided with the means of gratifying a new enthusiasm.
35. Bound By Léon Gruel.
36. Bound by Léon Gruel.
In 1874 an association sprang up of about fifty-five collectors who called themselves ‘Les amis des livres,’ from which sprang the new departure which has had far-reaching results in book production. The members determined that henceforth, instead of reprints from the past, there should be books specially illustrated and specially produced in small editions for the society, thus reviving the traditions of the days of Grolier and De Thou, when book collectors were also book makers in the best sense of the word. Authors and artists were to collaborate with printers and publishers to produce the perfect work. In this way came into existence Eugénie Grandet with the drawings of Dagnan engraved by Le Rat, Monsieur, Madame et Bébé, illustrated by Edmond Morin and many another, to which Meissonier, Vierge and Lepère devoted their best efforts. Illustrated books have always presented a special attraction for our neighbours, and this new stimulus gave the most surprising results. Out of it arose, too, all the excessive preoccupation with ‘states,’ ‘papier de chine,’ ‘papier de japon,’ and the like which has been carried to a ridiculous extent. The cult of rarity in all such matters surely reached its highest point when single copies were specially illustrated for individual collectors, such as the Fleurs du Mal, which Paul Gallimond had ornamented with marginal notes by Rodin, and Les Trois Mousquetaires with water-colour sketches by Maurice Leloir. The original drawings for Notre Dame de Paris by Luc Olivier Merson were bought for 20,000 francs in the open market, while those for Les Trois Mousquetaires and Manon Lescaut by Maurice Leloir fetched the extravagant price of 60,000 francs apiece. These facts are interesting as showing how a small number of genuine book lovers and collectors can constitute a real power, and so far control the character of the book market that they create a new taste which will be recorded in history as the fashion of the age in which they lived. The success of the ‘Société des amis des livres’ and the response of the editors such as Conquet, Quantin, Testaud, and others, to their initiation, gave such encouragement to amateurs that two new clubs were soon formed, ‘Les amis des livres de Lyon’ and ‘Les bibliophiles contemporains.’ The last was founded by Octave Uzanne with a membership of 160, and ceased to exist only to be re-established as the ‘Société des cent bibliophiles,’ presided over by M. Eugène Roderigues. Besides all these associations there grew up a class of literature entirely devoted to the instruction of the amateur and the development of his taste in all matters relating to books and their bindings. The earlier literature of binding had been devoted to reproductions of fine specimens from historic collections, but now there appeared in profusion such books as L’art d’aimer les livres et de les connaître, Connaissances nécessaires à un bibliophile, Les livres modernes qu’il convient d’acquérir, De la reliure, examples à imiter ou à rejeter, not to mention monthly reviews such as Le Livre Moderne, L’Art et l’Idée, Le Livre et l’Image, and the like.
Grolier took the best books he could find, and put them into the best bindings he could find, and the motto of the collectors of to-day was henceforth to be, as M. Béraldi says in the work previously mentioned, ‘le livre de son temps dans la reliure originale de son temps.’ Thus out of the new bibliomania grew naturally the reaction in binding with which we are now dealing, and the latest expression of which was seen in the Galliera Museum. These books of fine illustrations must have an appropriate decoration; nothing will do that has served its turn elsewhere, and every amateur stipulates that his binding shall be unique. ‘Doublures,’ formerly the exception, are now the rule; ‘tools’ are cut freely for fresh designs, and expense increases with the initiative demanded of the binder, till there seems no limit to what will be paid by the enthusiast. With the craving for novelty there naturally arises the problem, so difficult of solution, concerning the limitations of material and how far audacity may be risked in decoration without extravagance or eccentricity. Cuzin, at the height of his reputation in 1885, was possibly the first to leave the grooves of tradition and to create a style that he considered appropriate to the books of the time. It consisted for the most part on the outer covers of what the French call jeu de filets, or line patterns which are capable of much diversity, while wreaths of flowers inside took the place of the lace patterns that had hitherto formed the ornament of ‘doublures.’ He also adopted emblematic designs, but these were exceedingly moderate in their symbolism. Marius Michel, too, devoted himself to the research for fresh motives of decoration. In 1889, when eighteen years of age, he had gone into Gruel’s atelier and rapidly became a gilder of consummate taste and skill. Ten years later he set up for himself as a finisher, working for Duru, Capé, Chambolle, Cuzin and other binders. For the next twenty years or more his fine talent was devoted to the reproduction of bindings of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, to perfect copies of Grolier, Le Gascon and others put upon the books of that time, which were still to be bought freely and at moderate price. Some of his best work is to be seen now in the library at Chantilly; for the late Duc d’Aumale during his exile intrusted large numbers of books to Capé, always accompanied with detailed instructions, and it is these which constitute a large part of the elder Marius Michel’s title to fame.
37. Bound by Mercier.