A History of Sculpture

by Ernest Henry Short

Fortunately this sternly anti-humanistic creed was not adopted throughout Northern Europe. In particular, it failed to find acceptance among the Frenchmen who made their country the first power in Western Europe during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. As in Germany, the growth of an independent school of sculpture in France dated from the early years of the sixteenth century when the influence of the Italian Renaissance began to spread beyond the peninsula. The French equivalent of Peter Vischer was Michel Colombe. Colombe was the tailleur d’images to three kings of France, Louis XI., Charles VIII., and Louis XII. His best known work is the tomb of Francis II., Duke of Brittany, at Nantes. But it is rather as the founder of the school of sculpture at Tours that Colombe claims our attention.

Early in the sixteenth century Tours was the foremost art centre in France. Fouquet, the miniaturist, who died about 1480 a.d., was a native of the town. Jean Clouet (Janet), the portrait painter, also lived at Tours for some time. About 1520 there was an official studio in the town, presided over by Babou de la Bourdaisière with a full complement of sculptors, jewellers, engravers, and painters. The chief product of the school of sculpture at Tours was the long series of Royal Tombs at St. Denis, set up by the French kings of the sixteenth century. It is here that we can best estimate the capacity of the earliest native French sculptors.

The similarity in the general design of the royal tombs at St. Denis is so marked that almost any example would be equally illustrative. In many respects the most representative is that of Henri II., upon which Germain Pilon worked for sixteen years. It is remarkable for the magnificent kneeling figures of the French King and Catherine of Medici. But, perhaps, from the historical standpoint, a more instructive example is the tomb of Louis XII., by Jean Juste. This was removed from Tours to St. Denis in 1531. It therefore represents the sculpture of a period midway between Michel Colombe and Germain Pilon.

Jean Juste’s design is of a highly conventional character. As in the tomb of Germain Pilon, the central figures are the nude corpses of the King and Queen, rendered with a realistic fidelity which, at any rate, commands respect. Above the tomb Louis and Anne of Brittany figure again. This time they are pictured as in life and fully dressed. The keynote of Jean Juste’s work—its vigorous truth—is the same as that pervading Peter Vischer’s “[King Arthur].” Like the work of the Nuremburg sculptor, it is devoid of real charm. It entirely lacks the emotional quality which attracts us in Quercia’s “[Tomb of Ilaria del Caretto],” though five hundred years have passed since it was set up in the Cathedral at Lucca. Unlike the Italian sculptor, the French artist has failed to realize the peculiar power of marble and bronze as a medium of artistic expression.

Even in the days of Jean Juste (about 1530), however, a change was beginning. It became an accomplished fact a few years later, when the French sculptors finally abandoned the effort to express the thoughts and emotions of the masses and accepted the lesser responsibility of catering for the needs of the few. The importance of French sculpture during the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries arises entirely from its association with the dominating factor in the history of the time. The age in which France was the first power in Europe was an age of the few, not of the many. This fact entailed the loss of much that might have been stimulating. But, at any rate, it enabled the sculptor to appeal to those who were shaping the history of their time.

Roughly, the political situation was as follows:

As the sixteenth century advanced it became evident that France could only preserve its place in the councils of Europe through an all-powerful monarchy. The earliest French king to realize this was Francis I., who succeeded to the throne in 1515 a.d. He was then twenty-one years of age. He proved to be the first Renaissance king of France, as Louis XII., his predecessor, had been the last mediæval monarch. Francis’ experience during the early years of his reign showed the absolute necessity of concentrating the resources of France into the hands of the king. His first step was naturally to deprive the French nobility of the power it had exercised in the past.

The effect of this general policy upon sculpture was instantaneous. If Julius Cæsar and Augustus were the fathers of Roman portraiture, Francis I. was the creator of what we term French sculpture. In the first place, Francis was forced to create an imposing Court where his turbulent nobles could be tamed into courtiers. This required the building of palaces where the reformed Court could meet. In other words, circumstances compelled Francis I. to be a great builder. The fortresses, which had been necessities during earlier centuries, were needed no longer. These were either suffered to fall into disrepair or the gloomy buildings with their turrets and moats were replaced by manorial châteaux with their lawns and their bowers. Naturally the king led the way. Equally naturally the necessity of building compelled him to become an energetic patron of the decorative arts. When Francis started to put up the Château of Chambord he employed such sculptors as Goujon, Bontemps, Cousin and Germain Pilon as a matter of course.

Francis’ greatest effort was the building of the Palace of Fontainebleau. It was begun in 1528. In a very short while he found that he could not rely upon French native talent for the extensive decorative scheme which he had planned. The discovery was not a new one. As early as 1495 Charles VIII. of France brought “makers of ceilings and turners of alabaster” from Florence and Milan. Cardinal d’Amboise, the minister of Louis XII., persuaded a number of Italian artists to try their fortune in Paris. He also installed several others at the Château de Gaillon. In those days the art instinct in France was dead. At the time when Raphael was working in the Vatican, the walls of the Cardinal d’Amboise’s castle at Gaillon were decorated with leathern hangings or simply-patterned cloths. No Frenchmen had considered the possibility of decorating his living rooms with pictures.

Under these circumstances Francis I. was compelled to turn to Italy. First Rosso and Primaticcio were summoned. A few years later, in 1537, Cellini accepted an invitation and spent some time at the French court. We can judge of the artistic enthusiasm of the kind and the marked change in the general appreciation of art owing to the growth of Court life from a spirited chapter in Cellini’s “Autobiography.”