The Illustrators of Montmartre/Chapter 3
III
H. DE TOULOUSE LAUTREC
LAUTREC is onc of those artists whose work is so uneven and out of the ordinary, that opinions as to its merits or demerits will ever remain as strongly
divided now that he is gone, as ever they were during his lifetime. His short life work consists of a mixed series of talented absurdities, and of veritable tours de force. His genius, alas! was of the species that borders on insanity, Occasionally the border was overstepped.
In more ways than one Aubrey Beardsley's short life may be compared to that of Lautrec, His genius was of a similar order, and as one examines his work, so will one be inclined first to call him an unwholesome incompetent, and next feel convinced that he is a pioneer artist of the first rank,
Lautrec's life story is a very pathetic one. With him in 1901 was extinguished the last remnant of an ancient line of nebles. His father was an amateur sculptor and painter, who was extremely fond of sport. The family came to live in Paris in 1883. The artist son was a dwarf, and after fighting hard against his handicap, and cheerfully entering the ring to tilt successfully for fame, his mind gave way, and he died at an early age in his father's castle at Albi, after having been confined in a private asylum.
Lautrec's student days were passed in Paris at Cormon's "atelier", His work done from the life in the studio did not hold out any great promise of later achievement; but, as is often the case, the untrammelled work he did outside was recognised at once as being out of the ordinary, and frequently of great merit. He would bring to the studio to show his comrades very clever sketches of types he had encountered during his rambles along the Boulevards. Indeed, Lautrec occasionally asserted with some bitterness in after days that it was these studies that had inspired Steinlen to make the character drawings through which he had become famous — Steinlen having previously made cats and children his chief study,
However this may be, one has not much patience with such claims. Real plagiarism is a detestable thing, but surely there is room for more than one artist in the field of the life of the poor, or of the amusements of a huge city like Paris, without being suspected of that offence. In any case Steinlen has treated his subject as no one else has done, or probably could do,
Lautrec was deservedly popular with his fellow students; his excellent wit, delivered in a strident voice, and punctuated with the gesticulations of a pair of extraordinarily short arms, always proved entertaining to those in the midst of whose company he happened to be.
His best work is probably to be found amongst his posters and portraits. His illustrations, except in his earliest work, as seen in Paris lllustré, more frequently show those crude vagaries of form and colour, which would point to an unevenly balanced judgment.
That Anquetin's drawings strongly influenced Lautrec's work is evident, while Raffaëlli, Degas and Renoir were his particular gods in art. Whether Ibels influenced him, or vice versâ, it is dificult to judge; but in any case there is a remarkable similarity in the aims and peculiarities of their art.
There is a magnificent poster of the poet-saloon keeper, Aristide Bruant, by Lautrec, which alone would have been sufficient to place him high among modern artists. Bruant in a large soft hat and wrapped in a cloak of a gorgeous subdued blue, moves with vivid energy across the sheet. His strong face, printed in grey, is wonderfully rendered with a few telling strokes. Little less attractive is his Bruant at the Ambassadeurs Music Hall. These are but two of many fine posters, done since his first essay in 1888, to advertise the stars of that
(Oil-Painting)
He lithographed posters of Cissy Loftus, of the beautiful Anna Held, La Goulue 
the dancer of the Moulin Rouge, and May Belfort; and being particularly attracted by the picturesque possibilities of Yvette Guilbert, with her then lithe figure and inevitable long black gloves, he introduces her into many of his works. Then there is a remarkable poster advertising Babylone d' Allemagne, and a yet more striking one for Le Vache Enragée, where we see a mad cow charging an old coloured dandy down a street. There is also the startling advertisement for L'artisan moderne, and the truly terrible "At the Foot of the Scaffold." Apart from these there are his posters 'in little," and programme-covers, such as those for Le Missionaire and L' Argent.
The very peculiarities and incomprehensibilities inherent in Lautrec's work were sure to arrest attention, and demand that scrutiny which is of the very essence of the successful poster. In every one of Lautrec's poster designs there is something strikingly unusual, Very rarely is a figure drawn in its entirety; the margin cuts off part of it, otherwise the design would have been too conventional for him,
'The artiste Caudicux zig-zags across a stage seen in violent perspective, while down in a corer is a worried member of the orchestra studying the coming bars. Caudieux's head is full of life and pent-up strength, and the whole movement of this quaintly placed figure is striking in the extreme.
Jane Avril's poster shows an anemic-looking artiste doing a high kick on the stage. The foreground is occupied by a monster hand holding the head of a 'cello in the orchestra.
The poster for the "Divan Japonais", on the other hand, shows us a lady and gentleman in the audience listening to a singer on the stage, behind an orchestra, Of the singer we see monster black gloves, and everything but the head; of the orchestra we are shown two 'cello heads, and, of the conductor, the arms alone. The lady in the foreground — who looks as though she always turned night into day — is wonderfully depicted, as is her companion, the dissipated, bearded swell. Perhaps his most graceful work in the poster line is that advertising "Elles".
Finally in the poster for "La Gitane", an unsavoury actress, arms akimbo, who comes right out of the design in the left hand foreground, smiles over her shoulder at the bold bad brigand who strides, in shadow, out of the poster at the top right hand corner. In all these and his other posters the lettering is bold and legible.
Lautrec's studies in the music halls are uncompromising in their garishness; he apparently does not attempt to seek beauty where it exists in such small quantities, or has been so carefully hidden. He delights in the flare and glare, the powder and paint, the discords and the inconsistencies of the thing. He prefers the raucous screech of the bold-faced jig, whose reputation as a songstress rests on her fine limbs, to the exquisite song of the highly-trained opera singer, He would reject gold in favour of tinsel. Yet this same man in another mood would paint a splendid and refined portrait.
Then there is Lona Barrison, jauntily leading her white horse out of the ring, followed by her manager with the pale chreme hair and beard; and then the hideous negro — "Chocolat dancing in a bar." All of these figures, despite their faulty drawing and their element of caricature, carry conviction with them.
Lautrec's travels in Spain, in England, Holland, and Belgium seem to have left little impression on his work. It is probable that the unhealthy surroundings and late hours imposed by his studies in café-concerts, in green-rooms, in libertine ballrooms and worse, hastened the end of that frail, feverish life — a life like that of a gaudily coloured rocket, brilliant and soon spent. 
YVETTE GUILBERT In his later years he had evinced great attraction towards the repulsive and the gruesome, and took a pleasure in seeing medical operations performed. Curiously enough, his studio window overlooked a cemetery.