From the Publications Office: Using the Study Centers

When you're reading a book, you probably don't think too much about where all the materials in it came from or how they were compiled. A large part of the process of creating something visually exciting for you to hold in your hands consists of tracking down material to illustrate the final result. Sometimes (a lot of times, in fact) that means contacting museums and other lenders to get them to supply high-resolution photographs of works of art. But what if you have a book that's mostly text? How do you give it some visual flair? A lot of that is up to the graphic designer, and the Georgia Museum of Art works with many talented freelance designers, who have won countless awards for their projects with us. In the case of "Louise Blair Daura: A Virginian in Paris" (which opens at the end of September and has a large book to accompany it), we were lucky enough to have the Pierre Daura Study Center close at hand.

The study center includes an amazing trove of material produced by both Pierre Daura and his American wife, Louise Blair Daura, the focus of this upcoming exhibition. The book will include her letters home from Paris to her family in Virginia written from 1928 to 1930, giving wonderful and witty insight on the art and social scene of the time. It also makes use of family photographs in the archive, Louise's creative projects (valentines, for example) and even passports, as in the snapshots here. We wanted some of the script font in the book to resemble Louise's actual signature, which can be small or blurry or written in an abbreviated form in the letters. A passport is a perfect place to get a nice, clear signature.

Other times, as with the image above, Louise makes reference in her letters to a drawing, so we needed to pull the actual letters and scan them to extract her sketches. Going through these pages and family photos gives one an even better feel for the daily life of these people than reading about them in a book, but we're doing our best to capture that feel for everyone who reads the final product.

The contents of the archive are listed through the Hargrett Rare Book and Manuscript Library, online. To make an appointment to use the archive, you can call the museum's main line, at 706.542.4662 or email gmoa@uga.edu.

From the Pierre Daura Archive: Shedding Light on the Cinq Refusés

Guest post by Madeline Bates, curatorial intern at the Georgia Museum of Art:

Cinq Peintres Refusés par le Jury du Salon

Paris, Galerie Marck, November 3–15, 1928

Before my first semester as an intern of the Georgia Museum of Art’s Pierre Daura Center for European Art, I had never heard of Pierre Daura, an artist about whom very little has been published despite his lifelong artistic career and interactions with some of the major figures of European modernism, like Wassily Kandinsky and Piet Mondrian. To learn more about the artist, I turned to the Pierre Daura Archive located in the museum’s Study Center for the Humanities.

While perusing the archive, filled with letters, newspapers, photos and similar ephemera, my interest was piqued by a Parisian exhibition in which Daura took part called the Cinq Peintres Refusés par le Jury du Salon, which ran concurrently with the November 1928 Salon d’Automne. This annual exhibition, established in 1903, was an important Parisian showcase for the work of modern avant-garde artists. A group of artists, including Henri Matisse, founded the exhibition in an act of creative opposition to the exclusivity of the Salon of the French Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture; the traditionally conservative institution was not accepting of the innovations of modernism. In October of 1928, Daura and four artists with whom he worked in Paris submitted works of art that were subsequently rejected by the jury of the Salon d’Automne. The Cinq Refusés exhibition was quickly conceived and shown at the Galerie Marck in Paris. My interest in the Cinq Refusés largely sprung from the fact that the formation of the exhibition, much like the Salon d’Automne, was a response to the subjective hierarchy of fine art established via the Salons, the major artistic exhibition spaces of the period.

[Five painters rejected by the jury of the Salon d’Automne exhibit their “condemned” paintings and a few others. When a violent retrograde movement manifests itself, it is interesting—perhaps prudent—to know what trends contradict it. Here, so many among others, are five Parisian painters singled out by the flattering rejection of the jury: Torres-Garcia, Uruguayan; Aberdam, Polish; Engel-Rozier, Belgian; Daura, Catalan; Jean Hélion, French.][1]

Photo of the artists printed in Blanco y Negro, Madrid, December 9, 1928. 

From left to right: Engel-Rozier, Helion, Torres-García, Daura, and Aberdam.

This international group of Cinq Refusés artists included Daura, from the Catalan region of northern Spain; Joaquín Torres-García of Uruguay, who organized the exhibition; Ernest Engel-Rozier, also known as Engel-Pak, of Belgium; Alfred Aberdam, of Poland; and Jean Hélion of France. Each painter worked in idiosyncratic modern modes, representing very different subjects and styles. Unfortunately, because only one or two photos of the exhibition survive, today’s knowledge of the exhibition content largely derives from critical commentary. Along the same lines, it appears that the planning of the exhibition took place in person, as there are no letters from this time between Daura and the other peintres refusés present in the Daura archive.[2] Daura’s personal diary from 1928, however, extensively recounts the days during this period and thus provides unique insight into the exhibition process.

By its twenty-fifth year, the 1928 Salon d’Automne had grown virtually to the scale of the Royal Salon, exhibiting more than 2,500 paintings. Critics reported that the Salon’s jury selection must have been arbitrary, for the work of Daura and his comrades was no worse—and in many cases, more interesting or better executed—than the Salon’s accepted works of art. Perhaps this was the case, as Daura’s paintings had been accepted for the Salon d’Automne in 1922 and 1926. Interestingly, in 1928, Pierre Daura secretly submitted a painting by Louise Daura, his bride-to-be and a fellow visual artist; her work was accepted by the Salon that year, and Pierre describes the occasion that Louise received her acceptance letter with enthusiasm in his diary.

Although the Cinq Refusés have received relatively little attention in art historical studies over the years, there was a great deal of contemporary critical acclaim in France and Spain, even reaching as far as America. Writers described the show with colorful language and varying degrees of compassion for the artists rejected by the Salon; some columnists embraced the show as a cheeky but well-purposed response, while others mocked and belittled the artists as failures.  Many writers suggested, in reference to the formation of the Salon d’Automne, that with the Cinq Refusés, Parisian history was repeating itself.

One contemporary Parisian review, published under the penname Nephtalie, speaks of the juried salon as a “dying institution” and expresses support for the Cinq Refusés creative mission:
 

If it is a battle to fight, I say immediately to these five men that I am by their side, because it really seems to me too that all Salons they force-feed us are really too formal and dying. Let those who have talent get up and move; we will be with them![3]

I found that Spanish publications gave the work of the artists more attention than did French newspapers, which more often provided only exhibition announcements or a critique of the Salon’s selection methods rather than reviews of the show’s artistic content. English translations of most of these articles, particularly those in Catalan, have never been published. Across Spanish and French papers alike, Daura received consistent praise for his still life paintings featured in the exhibition. I was delighted to find that Daura’s diary includes a rough sketch of the very still life Daura would later send to the Salon d’Automne and show in the Cinq Refusés exhibition. 

A sketch of a natura muerta scene from Daura’s diary, located in the Pierre Daura Archive, from August 1928.

Daura’s otherwise untitled Natura Muerta, completed by October 1928, now in a private collection.

La Publicitat de Barcelona, a Catalan newspaper, presented an especially interesting review of the exhibition. The article, entitled “Els cinc refusats de Saló de Tardor de Paris,” gives each artist careful consideration and provides extensive commentary on the role of the show within the scope of the changing nature of exhibition spaces. Concerning Daura’s Naturas Muertas, the author comments: "The great value of the Catalan Daura’s canvases lie particularly in their finesse and subtlety. This artist painted unassuming still-lifes and landscapes in an agile and nuanced manner.”[4]

The exhibition of the Cinq Refusés, which reached its eighty-seventh anniversary in November 2015, represents a pivotal moment in the history of these artists’ careers. Daura’s close association with Torres-García—a lifelong friendship that began in 1926 when, connected by a mutual friend, Daura organized Torres-García first Parisian art show—would lead to his relatively short-lived experiments with abstract constructionism and his involvement in the international exhibition group Cercle et Carré. This show was particularly formative for Torres-García: the artist received significant recognition in the press for his organizing role, the first in a long course of gathering together international groups of artists, such as Cercle et Carré and its South American counterpart, Círculo y Cuadrado. Furthermore, scholars have long said that Cinq Refusés exhibition was where Torres-García first met the Dutch artist Theo van Doesburg, a founder of De Stijl who would later oppose the ideals of Cercle et Carré with his own group, Art Concret. In my research for this blog post, I came across a letter written by Torres-García that indicates he met van Doesburg at least six months prior to this exhibition; the letter, then, raises important questions for this period in Torres-García’s career. For the artists the exhibition brought together and its juxtaposition to the Salon d’Automne as well as the lingering questions surrounding it, the Cinq Peintres Refusés par le Jury du Salon remains a fascinating moment in history deserving of further scholarly examination.

---

[1] [Cinq Peintres Refusés par le jury du salon d’automne exposent leurs toiles “condamnées” et quelques autres. Au moment où se manifeste un violent mouvement retrograde, il est intéressant—peut-être prudent—de connaitre quelles tendances le contredisent. Voici parmi tant d’autres, 5 peintres parisiens désignés par le refus flatteur du jury: Torrès-Garcia: Uruguayen; Aberdam: Polonais; Engel-Rozier: Belge; Daura: Catalan; Jean Hélion: Français.”]
[2] The latest letter in 1928 from Torres-García to Daura dates to May 27; the next is not until May 1929. There are no letters in the museum’s archive between Daura and Engel-Rozier or Hélion during this time, or any between Daura and Aberdam at all.

[3] Published in Adam (44 rue de Bruxelles), Paris, November 16 1928: Si c’est une bataille à livrer, je dis tout de suite à ces cinq hommes que je suis à leurs côtes, car il me semble vraiment à moi aussi, que tous les Salons dont on nous gave sont vraiment trop officiels et mourants. Que ceux qui ont du talent se lèvent et bougent, nous serons avec eux!

[4] Published November 23, 1928: Es per la finesa i la subtilesa que valen sobretot les teles del català Daura. Aquest artista ha pintat natures mortes i paisatges infinitament senzills, d’una manera àgil i matisada. I am deeply grateful to Dr. Stephen Ramos and Nuria Jaumot-Pascual for the translation from Catalan.

Digging Daura: The Daura Diggers

Our Digging Daura series spotlights interesting finds from the Pierre Daura Archive in GMOA's Pierre Daura Center, part of our Study Centers in the Humanities. This installment of the series comes from Daura Graduate Intern, Joan Tkacs:

           Pierre Daura already has an impressive resume– father, artist, teacher, soldier– to this list I would like to add another entry, amateur archaeologist. I came across a story of how the Daura family discovered Neolithic artifacts outside of Saint Cirq in a letter written by Louise Daura to her family. Louise’s story made for such good reading that I thought I’d recount the tale for all of you.

            This adventure begins with a birthday party. Pierre and Louise’s daughter, Martha, was born September 24, 1930 and the Dauras held a special party for Martha’s first birthday on September 27, 1931. During the birthday festivities, the Dauras were visited by Maurice Olombel, a friend of Pierre and a scientist at the station entomolique de Versailles. After everyone had their fill of the traditional birthday cake, Pierre convinced his friend to take part in a small excavation outside of the village of Saint Cirq. Generations before, a villager was said to have discovered an ancient Dolmen, and found coins, jewelry, and pottery from what many believed to be a “Gallo-Roman” grave. The site had not been explored further, and Pierre Daura hypothesized that an even older tomb might be located underneath the ancient gravesite. Olombel agreed to join the Daura family as their guide and advisor when they searched for the dig site and conducted their own excavation.

            The Daura troop departed the next morning. They did not have proper digging equipment so they used tools from their garden as substitutes; trowels and a hoe replaced the more traditional shovels and pickaxes, and Louise carried a bundle of fresh diapers for the baby Martha. According to Louise’s letter the party descended into the Lot Valley, crossed the river, and eventually arrived at a plateau where Pierre discovered a circular pile of stones about twenty-five feet in diameter. After breaking for lunch, Pierre and Olombel began to dig up the site.

            The men were “up to their necks” in dirt when they finally found a large stone slab, which they believed served as the floor of the newer “Gallo-Roman” tomb and the roof of an older Neolithic grave site. Using what must have been Herculean force the two men lifted up the stone slab and continued to dig. The Dauras’ efforts were rewarded. They found teeth, various bones including a vertebra, an arrowhead, and pottery shards. Olombel was so impressed with the findings that he took them back with him to Paris, intending to show them to his colleague Abbé Henri Breuil, the authority on Neolithic settlements in both France and Spain.

            I had come to feel pretty familiar with the happenings of the Daura household after reading through Louise Daura’s family correspondence, but her account of this amateur excavation still managed to surprise me. If anything, her story is a testimony to the family’s unflagging sense of adventure and the influence this adventurous spirit had on their day-to-day life.

Louise Daura’s account of the family excavation can be found in her letter written September 30, 1931. Family Correspondence series, Pierre Daura Archives, Georgia Museum of Art, University of Georgia.

 Map of Saint Cirq in relation to several prehistoric caves in the area

Digging Daura: Christmas Cards

Above: “Making Your Own Christmas Cards No Lost Art Here” from The News, Lynchburg, VA, Sunday Morning, December 14, 1952, section IV, p. 1

As promised in previous “Digging Daura” posts, I’m sharing more images this week, and holiday-themed ones at that. This installment showcases some of the Daura family Christmas cards in the embedded slideshow below.



We are fortunate to have an explanation of the history of these cards from the artist’s daughter, Martha Daura:

Christmas Cards 1930-76

The Daura Christmas/New Year card tradition began with the 1930-31 (Dec. 1930 – Jan. 1931) holiday season after Pierre and Louise moved from Paris to St. Cirq-Lapopie in July 1930. From that season through the 1938-39 season, while Pierre lived in France, with one exception, the “cards” were original engravings or block prints produced by Pierre in limited editions as gifts for family and friends. It is unlikely that prints were made for either the 1934-35 season when Pierre was in Virginia, or the 1937-38 season before Pierre had recovered from his Spanish Civil War wounds. The only information available regarding prints made while Pierre lived in France is from the plates, blocks or prints in the GMOA collection, and inventories. The exception card referred to above was a commercial reprint of an oil painting. From the 1939-40 season until Pierre’s death in 1976, the cards were commercial reprints of original works, usually drawings. They were printed in fairly large editions.

Digging Daura: Mondrian's studio through the eyes of Louise Blair Daura

This week’s “Digging Daura” post is the last in our subseries of excerpts from the letters of Louise Blair Daura to her family. Here she describes a visit to Piet Mondrian’s Paris studio in April of 1930. Her description of the studio’s design, which is, in effect, an extension of Mondrian’s canvases, illustrates the artist’s desire “to establish international unity in life, art, culture, either intellectually or materially.“[1] A photograph of Mondrian’s New York studio in the 1940s is often pictured in art historical texts to demonstrate the same strategy. Louise’s description of Mondrian’s photo album, with which he explained his gradual embrace of a totally abstract painting style, is even more significant, supporting, as it does, the now classic lecture on Mondrian in which art history professors do the same thing with images showing his progression from early works to his mature style.

When I left Jean, I went to join Pierre at Mondrian’s studio.[2] Mondrian is the founder of the Constructivist movement in art, and works with the simplest of elements; red, blue, yellow, black and white, unmixed, are the only colors he uses, and squares, rectangles and black lines the only forms. He is 58, and showed us an album of photos of his paintings from the age of seventeen, clearly showing the evolution which he has undergone from Academicism, through Cubism, to his present form. He has written numerous books on the “neo-Plasticism” as he calls his art, and has paintings in the museums of Holland, Prague, and Germany. His studio is as interesting as his paintings. The walls, chairs, tables and easels are painted with white Ripolin, and all the accessories, such as boxes, victrola, etc. are painted in red, blue or yellow Ripolin, and placed so carefully that nothing must be moved out of its proper place.[3] The walls are decorated with different sized squares of red, blue and yellow, placed at calculated but not symmetrical distances. On the white cupboards and tables would be painted a small rectangle of color, and all so calculated that it was impossible not to admire it, though I had never seen anything like it before. The floor was very dark and highly polished, with grey rugs scattered about, and the divan was grey also. With all of those colors at their maximum intensity, the proportion of each in reference to the whole was so perfect that it was at once gay and restful. He showed us his paintings, one of which is square, and hung by one of its points, in diamond shape, with only four lines on its perfect, white surface. As we discussed it, he explained how long he had worked on it, how difficult it had been, because the slightest increase in size of the top line or change in position made the picture too “tragic.” He works for weeks on one picture, to get a surface as united and perfect as if it had been painted with one stroke of a large brush dipped in Duco, and he is as pre-occupied with the proportions of one square in reference to another as ever Rubens was to suspend the chariot of Victory in air above a riotous scene of battle.[4]

(Louise Blair Daura letter to family, April 17, 1930, Pierre Daura Archive, Georgia Museum of Art, University of Georgia)

Next week’s “Digging Daura” post will present some of the Christmas-themed items in the archive.

---

[1] “De Stijl: Maifesto 1,” first published in De Stijl, V, no. 4 (Amsterdam, 1922), reprinted in Charles Harrison and Paul Wood, eds., Art in Theory: 1900-2000 (Blackwell Publishing: Malden, MA, 2003) p. 281.

[2] Piet Mondrian (1872-1944), Dutch painter, founder of De Stijl movement and creator of a style of abstract painting he named Neo-Plasticism, which was both a source for and a subset of the larger Constructivist movement in Europe in the 1920s.

[3] Ripolin remains a popular, French brand of enamel paint.

[4] Duco is an industrial paint invented in 1923 by GM for automobiles.

Above: marginalia drawing by Louise Blair Daura illustrating a painting by Mondrian.