CERCLE DE Charles GLEYRE (Chevilly, canton of Vaud, 1808-Par - Lot 93

CERCLE DE Charles GLEYRE (Chevilly, canton of Vaud, 1808-Paris, 1874) Le Soir (or Lost Illusions) After the painting presented by Gleyre at the Salon of 1843 and acquired by King Louis-Philippe (now in the Louvre). Canvas. 137 x 238 cm. On the back, stencilled mark of the canvas manufacturer: Haro, successeur de Rey, 26, rue des Petits Augustins à Paris. Original stick. 1845-1849 Charles Gleyre was one of the most singular artists of his time. Orphaned at an early age, a reserved, sickly and melancholy man, he was troubled by poverty until the colossal success of the painting he presented at the 1843 Salon: Le Soir (renamed by the public Les Illusions perdues, the same year as the publication of the last part of Balzac's novel). We present here a quality replica of this painting. A pupil of Louis Hersent, Gleyre had completed his training in Italy before embarking on a long trip to Egypt. After settling in Paris in 1838, he took over Paul Delaroche's studio, where he provided liberal instruction free of charge. It was in Gleyre's dreamy Antiquity, treated with crystalline perfection, that the neo-Greek painting of the Second Empire found its origins (another source being Ingres). Several future Impressionists also trained in his studio and forged friendships there: Renoir, Bazille, Monet and Sisley. Once famous, Gleyre was considered a national hero in Lausanne, whose museum collected his work. Not one to seek honors, and often unable to finish his paintings, the artist died while visiting an exhibition, struck by lightning in front of a painting by Ingres. It was during his trip to Egypt that Gleyre had the vision that inspired Le Soir: "It was March 21, 1835, a beautiful twilight on the Nile, near Abydos. The sky was so pure, the water so calm, that after the masturbation of the brain to which I had given myself all day, it would have been difficult for me to tell whether I was sailing on a river or in the infinite spaces of the air." The Egyptian-style boat is laden with singing women in antique dress, and a young bowless Eros pretending to shoot an arrow. However, the boat does not approach the shore, but rather pulls away, leaving a prostrate bard on shore, his lyre dragging on the ground - a figure in which some scholars have believed they recognize Thamyris, the bard from the Illiad who was crippled by a punishment from the Muses. In fact, the exegeses of Le Soir have multiplied up to the present day, without succeeding in unlocking the secret of this deliberately enigmatic work - which is what makes it so profound. It is generally agreed, however, that it is a melancholy allegory - that of Life abandoning a lonely old poet - which was entirely in keeping with an era obsessed with spleen and "le mal du siècle". An era that would soon see the flowering of the Symbolists and Decadents, of whom Gleyre was a precursor. Charles Gleyre was not entirely satisfied with his painting. To a friend who had commissioned him to paint a repeat of Le Soir, he replied: "I've already been asked more than ten times, and I've always refused. What's wrong with that? I'd have to work too hard. This did not prevent him from painting one in 1865 for Henry Walters. Two other versions (Liverpool and Winterthur) are considered possibly autographs. Other copies were painted at the Musée du Luxembourg, where the work was deposited, and at the Louvre from 1879. Of excellent workmanship, our copy was executed at a date close to the original, as attested by the Haro mark on the back of the canvas (which cannot be later than 1849, the year in which Etienne Haro succeeded his mother, who was widowed in 1847). Suppliers of canvas and fine colors, framers and restorers, the Haro family occupied a central position in the Parisian art world. They maintained professional and even friendly relations with Ingres and Delacroix (who visited them almost daily). They were also art dealers. We can therefore assume that they were intermediaries in the commissioning of this copy, carried out by one of the painters who gravitated around them or by one of Charles Gleyre's students.