Saint Mary the Egyptian, c. 1490.

Polychrome limestone, 130 cm.

Saint-Germain-l’Auxerrois Church, Paris.

 

 

Much later than Italy, France also had its Renaissance. Was it, as claimed by some writers, in yielding to the passion of Francis I for Italian artists and their works that this evolution was accomplished? Far from it. Not that there is any need to suppose that French artists were animated by an unworthy feeling of jealousy towards those strangers invited from afar and laden with honours and wealth. France has its own national genius who works reliably. She looked on while the Italians were at work, relying on the influence her honours and genius were sure to exercise over them, and so it happened that those teachers, who were invited to transform French genius, were transformed themselves, and their works became French.

Our sculptors followed this path slowly, step by step. Consequently it is only in the middle of the 16th century, precisely during the Italian decadence, that the man who characterises the French Renaissance appeared: Jean Goujon. There is no need to emphasise this sculptor’s merits, who, in some way, has written the characteristics of French beauty in immortal marble. He certainly studied antiquity but without borrowing anything from this period. His Dianas and Nymphaes are the ladies of the court with their patrician grace and delicate slenderness. What would he have looked for elsewhere to be more elegant and capable to charm his contemporaries?

This is also a fact that needs to be understood; every country has its own special qualities. France excels in this understanding of countries’ differences; this understanding characterised its portraits. This insight was applied to such a high degree that we will never hesitate overestimating a mythological figure’s date of production, whether it is from the 16th or 17th century. The ethnic characteristic carries this date within it.

No mention has yet been made of a particularly interesting school of artists of the German Renaissance, those wonderful carvers of compact limestone alluded to earlier along with the names of alabaster. If we are to believe the monograms inscribed on some of these works, this branch of art must have been brought about by the most illustrious German artists. Thus, Albert Dürer’s signature may be seen on the statuette of Otho Henry the Magnanimous Count Palatine of the Rhine, one of the gems of the former Sauvageot collection. It was his disciple, Aldegrever, who reproduced the scenes which he engraved under the title The Wedding Dancers in lithographic stone. Here, the pretty Augsburg maiden and Bavarian prince are rendered with all imaginable delicacy. The features have a charming expression and no details of the graceful draperies have been neglected by the chisel.

To attempt to describe the still noteworthy works of all these artists would unduly expand the proportions of this volume to an unreasonable extent. Besides which, a sufficient variety of them may be seen in the public museums to convey an idea of their style and genius. Pliancy and an easy grace characterise this school whose busts have a grand air and somewhat theatrical treatment which, through Louis XIV, became the salient feature of the century. Here we might point out the remarkable change introduced into art towards the close of the reign of Louis XIV and dwell especially on the coquettish grace and unstudied felicities of the sculpture of the 18th century.