I -- .'4-
— e V,
Cover: Actual size detail of Praying Man. c. 1921, cat. no. 26.
LOS ANGELES COUNTY MUSEUM OF ART
Copyright 1968 Los Angeles County Museum of Art
Library of Congress Catalog Card No. 68-17297
FOREWORD AND ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This is the first comprehensive exhibition of paintings by Chaim Soutine
in the United States since the Museum of Modern Art's presentation,
directed by Monroe Wheeler, in 1950. It is the largest ever held in this
country. I have made the present selection of ninety paintings
from almost 600 works known to me in the course of several years of
intensive research on Soutine' s oeuvre. The objective has been to
present a fresh view of Soutine by choosing paintings which have rarely
been seen, except for those great and renowned works which can not
be experienced too often. Emphasis has been placed on Soutine' s
production of the twenties, for reasons of quality, and in particular on
the Ceret paintings (1919-1922), of which nineteen are now shown.
In the thirties and until the artist's death in 1943 , Soutine's production
and esthetic achievement declined, and only nineteen works from this
fourteen-year period are here presented. A complete view of the late
Soutine is still not possible, for many of these works have been
and continue to be kept from the public eye by a few Parisian
collectors of Soutine.
For assistance in preparing the essay, I want to thank Mrs. Jane
Livingston who made careful, intelligent and helpful comments about it.
Mrs. Livingston also worked closely with me on the Bibliography,
as well as at every stage in the preparation of the entire book-catalog,
and the lengthy organization of the exhibition itself. To her I owe
a special debt of gratitude.
I also want to thank Mr. Sidney Brody, Mr. and Mrs. Klaus Perls,
Mr. Andras Kalman, Mr. and Mrs. Theo Brennahum, Mrs. Irene Shapira
and Monsieur Jean-Francois Bonpaix for special assistance, as well
as Henry Hopkins, James Monte and Miss Frieda Kay Fall, who read
I am also grateful to Mr. Jack Tworkov for his Afterword on Soutine.
CHAIM SOUTINE, BY MAURICE TUCHMAN
Chaim Soutine was born in Smilovitchi, a Lithuanian village of about
400 inhabitants near Minsk, in 1 893 . He was the tenth of eleven children
of a pitifully poor Jewish mender, not, as has been said, a tailor. This
distinction was important in the shtetl — the small East European Jewish
community — where the social hierachy was extremely subtle. In Zborow-
ski and Herzog's informative monograph on shtetl culture, a lady from
the old world is quoted as saying, "the ones who make the soles on the
shoes are considered low prost [roughly translated, uncouth, unman-
nered people]. Those who make the upper parts of the shoes are already
higher." 1 Soutine's family was on the bottom rung of the social ladder.
Sholom Aleichem said of the characters in his writings about shtetl life
that they were "experts" on hunger: Soutine was such an expert.
Soutine rarely reminisced about his boyhood but he did speak of it,
with bitterness, to a few friends late in his life. From their accounts, par-
ticularly from the report of the painter Michel Kikoine, a friend from
Smilovitchi, one can glean the tenor and chronology of his boyhood.
Smilovitchi was a gray mass of ramshackle wooden houses. The sky above
was almost eternally a somber gray-green. One of Soutine's earliest recol-
lections was of his fascination with the play of sunlight and shadow in
the house. Through a window of the family dwelling, Soutine's father
could be seen from the street, "squatting in a Buddha-like position, work-
ing at his mending at all hours of the day." His mother was "old before her
time . . . always worried and uncommunicative . . . not particularly affec-
tionate with her numerous progeny."- At the age of thirteen Soutine
already loved to draw, and would sketch on any scrap of paper he could
find, or on the walls with charcoal. He was ridiculed for this by his family
(his father wanted him to become a cobbler or a tailor) , and was actually
punished physically for his "crime." Two of his older brothers constantly
taunted him, saying, "A Jew must not paint," and they beat him merci-
lessly. Their cruelty became almost a ritual. Soutine would flee his broth-
ers and hide himself in the woods near the village until hunger forced
him home. He would return to find milk and warm black bread, which he
dearly loved, laid on the table. But when he crept into the kitchen he
would be beaten again by his waiting brothers. 3 Soutine also recalled
being beaten for stealing a kitchen knife to trade for drawing crayons.
One day, when Soutine was about sixteen, he approached a pious Jew and
asked him to pose for a portrait. The next day this man's son and his
friends thrashed Soutine and left him for dead. He was eventually rescued,
but it was a week before he could walk again. A complaint was lodged
1 Soutine, Self -Portrait, c. 1 920, oil on canvas. Whereabouts unknown
against the aggressors by Soutine's mother, and the boy was granted an
amendment of 25 rubles.
With the money, Soutine and Kikoine set off for Minsk to become
artists. Kikoine relates that "our first instructor in Minsk was a man
named Krueger, who gave private lessons and guaranteed success in three
months." 4 A year later, Soutine went to Vilna and applied at the Ecole
des Beaux Arts for a three year course. In an unpublished biography of
Soutine, Henri Serouya says that Soutine "was asked to draw a cone, a
cube and a pitcher. Being terribly nervous, he made a mistake in perspec-
tive which caused him to be refused admission. He wept at the feet of
Professor Rebakoff. Moved by his tears, the old director took pity on
Soutine and gave him another opportunity to pass the examination, this
time alone in the classroom. He accomplished the exercise perfectly and
became a brilliant student at the school." 3 He was taught a kind of heavily
modeled realism, dense and laborious, and for the first time saw repro-
ductions of works by old masters. In his private sketches, which were
always done from nature, he chose subjects evocative of sadness, misery
and suffering. His friends recall, for example, that he staged a Jewish
burial. He had Kikoine lie down and cover himself with a white drape,
then encircled the shrouded figure with candles and drew the scene. He
hid everything he made, and even at this early period he viciously de-
stroyed anything which did not please him.
Soutine was twenty years old before he fully left behind him the cul-
ture of the shtetl. It is doubtful that the effects of his youth and early train-
ing as an artist actually were — or could have been — really abandoned in
any significant sense. But even in the most informative commentaries on
Soutine there is practically no reference to the recurring echoes of shtetl
life in his painting. Thus Soutine's art, though certainly recognized for
its greatness, has for decades been at least partially misunderstood as
In the shtetl, extremely high value was placed on emotional expres-
siveness and feeling. Students and former inhabitants of the shtetl con-
stantly point to the texture of daily life as being full of energy and noise
and agitation. Expressions of vitality in almost any form were regarded
as healthy and desirable. "Life in the shtetl is lived with abounding zest,"
commented Zborowski and Herzog. 7 These writers describe the concept
of "sholem bayis," or household peace, as "a state of dynamic equili-
brium" rather than "unruffled serenity." In their words, "A happy house-
hold is a swirl of people, all busy, all talking. There may be arguments
Photograph of Soutine. Courtesy La Bibliotheque des Arts, Paris
and nagging, mutual recriminations. All this is part of being expressive.
part of showing one's affection and interest, part of sharing in the experi-
ences of one's family . . . The equilibrium is possible because affection and
anger are not in the least incompatible." 5 Soutine's characteristically
vigorous animation of the canvas surface is a reflection of the intense
emotionalism of the shtetl. "The vocabulary of the East European Jew's
heart," wrote the renowned scholar Abraham Heschel. "has only one
sound: 'Oy!'" 9 This cry, a mixture of joy and sadness and enthusiasm,
exudes from all of Soutine's paintings. The flow" of passion in them some-
times seems to overwhelm the forms, calling to mind an analogy to that
Yiddish literature (Ashkenazic) in which all form and structure is sub-
merged in an outpouring of sentiment, a passion both intellectual and
ecstatic. 10 Soutine's painting is also reminiscent of the writing of such
authors as Sholom Aleichem. who in Alfred Kazin's words, ''present cer-
tain particularities, traits, sensations, habits or witticisms, even certain
biological characteristics, as a physical substance." 11
The Jew's high regard for feeling is characteristically expressed in
words. "The paramount role of words," say Zborowski and Herzog, "is
suggested by the popular notion that every human being has assigned to
him at birth a definite quota of them. When his quota of words is expend-
ed, he will die . . . In this highly verbalized culture, words are more than
a medium of communication. The word is a force in itself, a tool. More
than that, the word itself embodies substance — the Hebrew root is the
same for 'word' and for 'thing' or 'object'. Thus the word endows its
referent with existence." 11 ' Howe states that one "spoke not of a beautiful
thing but of a beautiful deed or event." 13 Traditionally, the importance of
verbal communication has implied suspicion and disparagement of vis-
ual expression. Drawing and painting were considered sinful. "Thou shalt
not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of anything that
is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water
under the earth," reads the Second Commandment. Solomon condemned
painting, "the sight whereof entices fools to lust after it, and so they
desire the form of a dead image, that hath no breath . . . they that make
them, they that desire them, and they that worship them, are lovers of
evil things " 14 Distruct and even fear of the visual was manifest on other
levels and in different areas of shtetl life. The process of looking, for
example, was said to be dangerous. A pregnant woman was taught to fear
"mislooking herself," that is. she was to avoid looking at anything that
might harm the unborn child. "A pregnant woman must be on the alert
every minute of every day ... if a mother 'mislooks herself on an animal'
she may give birth to a monster and it will be said that she bore a calf or
a dog. An ugly or misshapen person is commonly referred to as a 'mis-
looked one.'" 1 "' After the baby was born it was thought that it might be
harmed by being looked at too much. The child was protected from the
gaze of outsiders. The mother or nurse would distract a spectator's atten-
tion by diverting his glance to something else. An "evil eye" was blamed
for any common ailment at any age, and the exclamation, "No evil eye!,"
was always used as a precaution. (A powerful antidote to visually caused
problems was speech. There was a professional "talker-away" — opsh-
prekher— of badness.) 16 The act of looking and seeing was associated
with terrible power — hence the phenomenon of the orthodox Jew who
would avoid the sight of women, and would adopt an habitually furtive
In the shtetl the Christian image of a Divinity was regarded as inferior
because it was corporeal, represented visually on an icon. The shtetl
child had "no vivid image of Him"; God was "conceived of as a disem-
bodied and all-prevasive presence," 17 a concept consistent with the pro-
hibition against graven images.
Soutine is singular among twentieth century artists in his willful insist-
ence on the surpassing importance of the concretely perceived thing.
Precisely because the visual experience was so impugned in his youth,
Soutine placed supreme value upon the particularity of the object. He
focused obstinately on the shibboleths pertaining to sight; violating these
shibboleths became the basis of his art, and accounts in part for its intense
seriousness and air of utter necessity.
There are several well-known stories of Soutine's search for the right
model. When he left Paris to wander over France it was always in search
of the "right" landscape. If he was inspired by a potential model he would
go to any lengths to force the person to pose for him. He would resort to
pleas, threats, insults or even bribery to get the person stationed before
him. Legends quickly arose about his obstinate refusal to yield up a
chosen subject. When he installed a huge beef carcass in his studio, pour-
ing buckets of blood on it continually to keep its red flesh color, he painted
it until its putrid stench brought the police and health authorities. Even
then he persuaded them to let him keep it a while longer. "Art is more
important than sanitation!" he insisted. 1S When a satisfactory subject
was finally obtained he would paint it again and again.
It is clear that the shtetl's injunction against "seeing" produced in
Soutine the most compelling need to experience visual sensation. It can
also be demonstrated how specific subjects and themes reflect his shtetl
conditioning. Soutine chose subjects which were particularly proscribed
by the shtetl too often to be coincidental. Sometimes — in spite of his at-
tempt to forget the shtetl, and in spite of his manifest dislike for nostalgic
or folkloric subjects — a distinct, if semi-conscious, childhood theme ap-
pears in his work. The most direct examples of this are Soutine's famous
images of hanging, splayed fowl. The motif is singular in Soutine's oeuvre
for in some cases it clearly is not a literally perceived subject, nor could
it have been; the fowl appears to be in motion. Soutine's art generally
imbues the static with an inner turbulence: Fowl is possessed of actual PL 71
movement. Given Soutine's obsessive need to have the subject there
before him, one can only account for these pictures by reference to a
shtetl custom with which Soutine would have been familiar. On the
morning of the Eve of Yom Kippur — the Jewish Day of Atonement —
there occurred in the shtetl a ritual of absolution. In the words of Zborow-
ski and Herzog, the shtetl "would be busy with the beating of the scape-
goat. Actually the beating of the goat might more accurately be called
the whirling of the fowl. In the ancient days . . . the scapegoat was sent out
into the desert, carrying the sins of the community. The shtetl rationale
has transformed the quadruped into a fowl, and instead of being sent
away to the desert, it is consumed by the family at the [post-] Yom Kippur
feasts The fowl ... is whirled about the head of the penitent, with an
appropriate prayer." 19 It is tempting to speculate that just as Soutine's
"whirling fowl" is a psychological scapegoat, so too are the uniformed
domestics and servants Soutine began painting during the same time he
painted the fowl. Servants, who were regarded with disdain in the shtetl,
are in a sense the scapegoats of society and emblems of exploitation.
Their identity is determined by their social role rather than through
their own individual personalities. Soutine painted domestics and ser-
vants perhaps for the very reason that they were symbolic of emotional
object-catharsis. Perhaps by a similar reactive compulsion, he painted
Chartres Cathedral; a shtetl Jew would avert his eyes from a church and
walk hurriedly past it. He further violated the tenets of shtetl life by paint-
ing series after series of Christian ritualistic figures — choir boys, page
Another painting with a subject and meaning emotionally laden with
shtetl-culture significance is the early Dog and Forks. The dog was feared ///. 3
in the shtetl, regarded as an unpredictable and dangerous beast, and
3 Soutine, Dog and Forks, oil on canvas. Whereabouts unknown
associated with violence. Soutine, in his most overtly cruel picture, paints
the animal with his stomach gaping open, held apart by human-hand-like
forks. Again the artist portrays a subject fraught with an anxiety instilled
in his youth. Perhaps in this case the fear or revulsion was exorcized;
at about this time Soutine posed proudly for a photograph in which he
smiles shyly, holding the paw of a small dog. ///. 4
The most significant psychological issue related to the fact that Soutine
painted animal carcasses is that his primary subjects — beef and fowl —
represented sustenance. In the shtetl, the rituals connected with food
were of transcending importance. Food, as Howe observes, "became a
link between the holy and profane, the community and the person,
husband and wife, mother and children. Precisely because of its scarcity,
it was a means of expressing love and releasing anger. The happiest
holidays of the year mean special foods; the holiest, a denial of food." 20
The all-important Jewish dietary concept of "kosher" depends upon
killing the animal as quickly, cleanly, and painlessly as possible, im-
mediately removing all excess blood, and using the meat as soon as pos-
sible. But Soutine hung the bloody animal up and investigated it. The
power of Soutine's art rests upon this driving necessity to see the for-
bidden thing and to paint it.
Soutine himself elucidated his own deepest longings and motivations
in an extraordinary comment made to his friend and biographer, Emile
Szittya: '"Once I say the village butcher slice the neck of a bird and drain
the blood out of it. I wanted to cry out, but his joyful expression caught
the sound in my throat.' Soutine patted his throat and continued, 'This
cry, I always feel it there. When, as a child, I drew a crude portrait of
my professor, I tried to rid myself of this cry, but in vain. When I painted
the beef carcass it was still this cry that I wanted to liberate. I have still
not succeeded.'" 21
Hs H 5 H*
In 1913, Soutine finished the three year course at Vilna. He had man-
aged during this time to save enough money for a train ticket to France,
and he arrived in Paris in July of that year. The painter Pincus Kremegne,
who had been at the Vilna Academy with him, was already living in La
Ruche ("The Beehive"), the famous rotunda built for the Paris Exposi-
tion which was later made into artists' studios. Kremegne escorted
Soutine to these ateliers, where at various times Leger, Chagall, Lipchitz,
Kisling and Modigliani lived and worked. Modigliani was to become his
close friend and supporter, introducing Soutine to his patron and dealer,
4 Photograph of Soutine. Courtesy La Bibliotheque des Arts, Paris
Zborowski. Soutine lived here, and at times in another atelier in the
Cite Falguiere, for the next six years. In spite of the contacts he made
with certain avant-garde artists and poets, he enrolled for a brief period
in the academic classes conducted by Cormon who, decades earlier, had
taught Van Gogh and Toulouse-Lautrec. Soutine's poverty in those first
years in Paris was almost unsupportable; it was the kind of gnawing,
continual want that can break one's will to work or live. It left a perma-
nent scar on him both physically and emotionally. During this time, he
would occasionally obtain work as a porter at the railroad station, and
as a ditch digger during the war. In later years, Soutine recounted stand-
ing at the counter of a cafe for hours, hoping that someone would buy
him a cafe creme or sandwich. Stories of his abject poverty and his
notorious uncleanliness at this time are legion. The most poignant anec-
dotes — such as the tales about how Soutine tried to keep armies of bugs
away from his bed with pans of kerosene, or how he made a pair of under-
wear serve as a shirt — testify both to his stubborn tenacity and his in-
genuity in the face of hardship. But for Soutine these years were hardly
less bitter than earlier times in Lithuania. Certainly he never recalled
them as romantic or adventurous; whatever energy was left from his
work was devoted to staying alive.
One of the earliest paintings known today is the melancholy Portrait
of a Nurse, a picture which is more interesting in terms of Soutine's later PL 1
stylistic development than pleasing in itself. The weary expression on
the subject's face appears later in Soutine's development — not in the
twenties, when his portraits are generally more animated — but in the
thirties. This is significant in a broader sense because certain subjects
which Soutine chose in these early years disappeared in the subsequent
decade, only to surface again at the end of his life. The work has com-
positional interest, too, in the radical flattening of the figure onto the
picture surface, and the manifest inclination to distort forms for expres-
sive effect — the body of the woman surges up and spreads itself out, like
an inanimate phantom. This feature was developed in the twenties: see
for example Plates 38 and 39. Still Life with Lemons belongs to a type PL 2
of early still life which depicts a dark bottle and glass, a plate with an
item of food on it, a spoon or fork, and one or two other items, all seen
frontally on an upturned table-top. The objects are carefully and some-
what stiffly arranged; the manner in which the edge of the plate meets
the bottom of the vase is typical. Cezanne's palette and sustained use
of subtle distortions for surface tensions seems to have affected Soutine
5 Soutine, Portrait of M. Chauveau, c. 19 17, oil on canvas, 21% x \&Vs". Photograph courtesy Galerie Charpentier, Paris
considerably in these early years. The fork is most individually realized.
It quivers and trembles as if alive, and anticipates the grasping anthropo-
morphic utensils encountered in slightly later still lifes.
Soutine painted portraits of fellow artists and of political refugees
who lived at La Ruche, as in the portrait of M. Chauveau. Here he com- ///. 5
mences his struggle to transform objective appearance into a world of
pervasively convoluted form. His means at this stage is the occasional
exaggeration of natural irregularities — the sloping hairline, the high,
protruding cheekbone and enlarged ear. The curvilinear gyrations of the
background may be interpreted as symbolic of his wish to make real forms
take on their potentially free, spontaneous quality. A diagonal composi-
tion, which becomes systematic in the landscapes of Ceret, determines
the ensemble of forms without the use of supporting horizontal or vertical
lines. He found a prototype for this distortion in the forms of El Greco,
who, according to Kikoine, Soutine then thought of as "the great mas-
ter." 22 Certainly Soutine must have looked long and hard at El Greco.
The inspired stroking in certain of his canvases reveals his homage to
the sixteenth century painter. But Soutine's art contains several elements
completely foreign to El Greco — the almost grotesque, comic-demonic
aura, the world of terror tempered by humor. These have little in com-
mon with El Greco's solemn spiritualism or his effort to de-materialize
a mundane world. El Greco's exalted, superterrestrial spiritualism could
scarcely have shown him how to make a valid art out of the vulgar reali-
ties of daily life. The dwarfs of Velasquez, or the "noble, vulnerable,
ordinary" portraits of Rembrandt, in the words of David Sylvester, 23
could have encouraged him. But it is especially Van Gogh, also a stranger
in France, who furnished the artist with proof that his own native sensi-
bility could find valid expression in painting. For Van Gogh, facing his
model, was attentive not only to the superficial particularities but also
to the deeper characteristics of personality (often neglected in earlier
art) which are clumsy, base, mad or despairing. In his portrait of Mme.
Roulin and Her Child, Van Gogh rejected the traditional vision of doting ///. 6
maternity and insisted upon expressing awkward helplessness through
the child. Soutine took a similar approach in a canvas of 1918 in which ///. 7
he stressed the gracelessness of the gesticulating child. Like Van Gogh,
Soutine painted deformed hands which, so much are they distorted,
seem not to belong to the figure but to have an independent existence.
Both painters represented one figure from the the front and the other in
profile, in order to heighten the stiffness of the relationship between
6 Van Gogh, Mme. Rouline and Her Child, 1888, oil on canvas, 25% x 20'/s"
7 Soutine, Mother and Child, c. 1 9 1 9, oil on canvas, 37x28%". Collection Jean Masurel, Roubaix, France
mother and child. In his portrait, Van Gogh "not only [did] away with
the dark shadows of older portraiture," as Meyer Schapiro wrote, but
also "with that smoothness of the paint and the represented skin which
has been so important in the past."" 4 Soutine understood that very well.
Cezanne's influence upon Soutine in these years was less direct than
that of Van Gogh, but perhaps it was equally important in determining
Soutine's underlying spatial approach. David Sylvester has argued that
Cezanne's effect on Soutine gradually became more significant than vir-
tually any other painter, pointing to certain derivations from Cezanne —
modeling by color rather than tone, breaking a form into clearly articu-
lated planes, compressing solidity into flatness. 25 Yet only the last charac-
teristic holds for any appreciable body of Soutine's work. Indeed, he
did seem to learn a great deal from Cezanne's way of severely constrict-
ing and enclosing space within which forms would be flatly imprisoned.
In Cezanne the object is tilted upward to become parallel to the picture
plane, and specific objects become distorted to accommodate the flatten-
ing of the ground. Soutine clearly adopted this approach in his early still
lifes, although with far less consistency in the handling of each object. But
Soutine would always make spatial compression uniquely meaningful
to his own expression, thereby transforming what could have been merely
a pictorial device into a supremely personal metaphor. This became
Soutine's means of expressing the ineluctable fusion of all form and mat-
ter, the identification of form and flesh and pigment which is so basic
to his still lifes, landscapes and portraits throughout the twenties.
Another key formal influence is clearly apparent in several pictures
made early in 1918. If Soutine gleaned from Cezanne the means of
unifying a picture by spatial compression, he learned from Bonnard how
to impart a consistent quality of viscosity to the canvas surface. In pic-
Pls. 8, 9 tures like Flowers and Fruit and Landscape with Figure one sees the
origin of his membranous pigment-skin. Bonnard showed him how to
work the pigment in a "wet" and tightly-knit manner. The strokes are
muted but strong, possessed of individual weight and purpose. One of
PL 11 his early Ceret landscapes painted in 1919, two years later, reveals a
continued experimentation with Bonnard's manner of flecking and spot-
ting paint. This extraordinary painting also embodies the lessons of Van
Gogh and Cezanne, the surging vehemence of the former and a version
of the latter's constriction of near and far into a narrow, vibrating space.
Directly after this seminal work, Soutine arrived at a certain synthesis
and began to find his own way.
Sometime in 1918 Soutine left Paris, probably for the first time since
he had arrived in France, to visit Cagnes. The following year he visited
Ceret in the Pyrenees, where he later settled in 1919 for about three
years. Away from the museums and galleries of Paris — and it must always
be remembered how deeply responsive Soutine was to his visual environ-
ment — Soutine took great strides forward. Perhaps his dealer, Zborow-
ski, intuitively grasped the potential consequences of sending Soutine
away from the art capital, and for this reason supported him at Ceret.
The ascendant, quintessential power of Soutine's Ceret period work
was first made prominent by certain American abstract expressionist
painters; consequently this aspect of Soutine's oeuvre came to be widely
appreciated and understood through its affinities with the work of the New
York School artists. (Similarly. German Expressionism at the turn of
the century prompted a renewal of interest in the then neglected artist
El Greco.) In his catalog of the Museum of Modern Art's 1950 Soutine
exhibition, Monroe Wheeler called attention to the connections between
Soutine's Ceret work and abstract expressionism, but it was the painter
Jack Tworkov who wrote perhaps the most penetrating criticism of the
Ceret work. Indeed Tworkov's lines now appear to be among the most
illuminating critical remarks made in 1950, not only about Soutine at
Ceret but also about the new American painting. Tworkov wrote that
Soutine's painting "technically defies analysis of how to do it. But it is
precisely this impenetrability to logical analysis as far as his method is
concerned, that quality of the surface which appears as if it had happened
rather than as 'made,' which unexpectedly reminds us of the most original
section of the new painting in this country. Viewed from the standpoint
of certain painters, like De Kooning and perhaps Pollock, about whom
there is no reason to imagine any real Soutine influence, certain qualities
of composition, certain attitudes toward paint which have gained prestige
here as the most advanced painting, are expressed in Soutine in unpremed-
itated form. These can be summarized as: the way his picture moves
towards the edge of the canvas in centrifugal waves filling it to the brim;
his completely impulsive use of pigment as a material, generally thick,
slow-flowing, viscous, with a sensual attitude toward it, as if it were the
primordial material, with deep and vibratory color; the absence of any
effacing of the tracks bearing the imprint of the energy passing over the
surface. The combined effect is of a full, packed, dense picture of enor-
mous seriousness and grandeur, lacking all embellishment or any con-
cession to decoration." 26
A word should be added at this point about the problems of dating
Soutine's work. In the notes to the Arts Council of Great Britain's Soutine
exhibition of 1963, I proposed a chronological scheme which revised
Monroe Wheeler's account of Soutine's development, then the most accu-
rate hypothesis. Exception was taken primarily to Wheeler's dating of the
Ceret period. Before Wheeler's study, writers on Soutine avoided dating
Soutine's work altogether or posited dates which were off the mark by a
decade or more. Even the brilliant art historian Elie Faure, who knew the
artist personally, wrote a little monograph (bibl. 6) rather early in
Soutine's career which contains surprising errors in dating paintings which
were quite recent at the time. In 1959 the Galerie Charpentier mounted
the largest exhibition of Soutine paintings ever organized, but the catalog
gave a confused picture of Soutine's chronology. The chronological
scheme which I proposed in 1963 was largely based on considerations of
style, with certain datings offered provisionally. I hoped that the exhibi-
tion and the proposed ascriptions would encourage further study and clar-
ification of Soutine's art at each point in its evolution. This did in fact
occur, for while the exhibition was on display in London, an art class under
the direction of David Sylvester, who organized the 1963 exhibition,
studied the paintings in question and modified several of the dates offered,
while generally accepting the proposed scheme. The resultant chronology,
altered to account for the many additional or substituted paintings in the
present exhibition, serves as a framework for the following commentary.
An early work at Ceret presages the psychological quality of the entire
Ceret production of about 200 canvases. It is the Reclining Woman. This PL 10
painting is about immersion in the earth, presented almost literally, for
the figure seems pressed into the ground, and the folds of her dress are like
the creases and grass of the earth. The painting is highly provocative of
the qualities of formal immersion and self-immersion which are the root
of Soutine's mature work.
Soutine's stylistic development at Ceret is best illustrated in his land-
scapes. Over a period of three years, the forms in these paintings become
increasingly convoluted, their axis, for some reason, inclining ever more
to the right side of the picture. In 1921 a pervasive convolution of the
forms is effected, accompanied by a more upright placement. Thereafter,
the pictures become more symmetrical and more calligraphic; the urge
toward abstraction diminishes; figure-ground relationships become
Road of Trees, circa 1919, is a crucial picture in terms of ascertaining Ills. 8, 9
8 Soutine, Road of Trees, c. 1919, oil on canvas, 21V4 x 28%". Photography courtesy Arts Council of Great Britain
9 Photograph of road of trees at Ceret, 1 967, by Maurice Tuchman 23
the stylistic development of the Ceret style. This view of the road leading
to the village was done early in the Ceret period, and is one of a series of
pictures that have rarely been presented in studies of Soutine. A sense of
uprootedness prevails here, epitomized in the great yearning of the trees
for the edges of the canvas. Blazing red brush strokes are introduced. In
the View of Ceret the vista is spread out laterally, and individual forms ///. 10, PL 12
consistently incline toward the right. That this seemingly arbitrary inclin-
ation may have been suggested by the actual view is indicated by the loca-
tion photograph. The forms quiver and vibrate and begin to lose a sense ///. 11
of mass; modeling begins to yield to calligraphic agitation. The land-
scapes become increasingly violent and convulsive. The painter's vantage
point moves closer to the forms. In a picture such as Landscape at Ceret PL 13
one aspect of "high" Ceret style emerges — the impulsive unobstructed
surge of long diagonals to a point of convergence at the upper right. Thus
the sense of being close-up is taken a step further, and approaches a sen-
sation of being inside; that is, completely immersed in a world of violent
sensation. The pictures become airless, the space flat and dense, the tex-
tures liquid and thick, the shapes less easily legible and often ecstatic; as,
for example, the bursts of foliage in the Landscape at Ceret. In the Tate PL 14
Gallery's Landscape, so intense is the turbulence that only gradually do PL 15
the separate parts — the trees of the foreground, house in the middle dis-
stance, and the background hill— come into focus. This is clearly the same
view seen in the picture previously mentioned, and their obvious similarity
confirms the fact that Soutine was looking very hard at the forms, even
while transforming the perception into something almost unrecognizable.
Noteworthy too are formal inventions which occur in these pictures in
spite of the frenetic haste of their execution. In the Tate picture the foliage
at the upper left, which belongs to the foreground tree, neatly parallels
the contour of the distant hill; areas belonging to radically separated spa-
tial planes are thus tied to each other. This trait appears again years later
in a different type of painting— a portrait —painted in another style; see the
similar configuration of hat and shoulder in the Woman in Red. Monroe PL 41
Wheeler dates the extraordinary Hill at Ceret as circa 1919, but its com- PL 16
plex and profuse anthropomorphic forms indicate that it was executed at
the high point of Soutine's Ceret style. Thomas B. Hess wrote memorably
of this anthropomorphism in his response to the picture in 1950: "I see
the hill with a house on top, but below, and to the left, I find a hook-nosed
witch, a handkerchief tied around her head, holding the collar of a squat-
ting dragon. But the beast's right side is defined by a dark area which now
10 Soutine, View of Ceret, c. 1919-20, oil on canvas, 2 VA x 28%". Collection Nathan Cummings, Chicago
1 1 Photograph of landscape at Ceret, 1967, by Maurice Tuchman
appears to be a curling-horned steer, drastically foreshortened, rising up
to the farmhouse, while below, guarding his eyes with his forearm, a man
tumbles backward into the sea. A few minutes later, I might have difficulty
in finding some of these forms again. Perhaps the landscape will return,
with all its roads, banks of trees, coils of earth, and flying clouds. But the
very manipulation of pigment has pried the subject from nature into the
personal sensation of terror, violence — and paint . . . Nature is again pop-
ulated with demi-gods who re-sanctify their ancient myths under the most
banal fields or within everyday trees." 27
A photograph taken in 1967 of the hill at Ceret which Soutine painted Ills. 12, 13
dozens of times reveals that the actual hill has a gradual slope, not the high
steepness we see in the paintings. Soutine made the hill parallel the picture
surface to accommodate the urge for immersion. But it also reveals an urge
toward abstraction which is completely unexpected in an artist so rooted
in the act of perceiving and so conscious of the claims of tradition. Work-
ing alone at Ceret, Soutine seems to have lost his need for a tradition-based
art. He had always felt a kinship with the old masters, as he told Paul
Guillaume in 1923. Guillaume cited Soutine's taste for "precursors" of ex-
pressionism such as El Greco, Courbet, Tintoretto, Goya and Rembrandt,
but Soutine also admired Egyptian and Greek sculpture, and "classical"
artists such as Raphael, Corot, Cezanne and Fouquet. Jacques Lipchitz
recalls having met Soutine leaving the Louvre one Sunday afternoon.
Soutine approached Lipchitz enthusiastically, brandishing a reproduc-
tion which he had bought in the museum. "Here," he said, "is the greatest
painting in the Louvre." Lipchitz looked at the picture: it was Fouquet's
Portrait of Charles VII. w For Soutine, restraint and discipline were ex- ///. 14
tremely important qualities in the art of the past. I would suggest that it
was in part this radical departure from tradition in the Ceret pictures that
Soutine later came to detest, and which accounts in large part for his de-
termination to find and destroy these works. (In the thirties he demeaned
the Ceret pictures: "I made them with my fingers!") Tradition afforded
him a sort of scaffolding, providing him a base from which to proceed
freely, and permitting him to violate certain traditional canons. Analogies
of this psychological need are found in his pictures after the "ultimate"
Ceret landscape. For example, in Red Roofs, Ceret, there is an almost PI. 18
architectonic scaffolding around the centered image which sets that image
down; the trees at both sides of the picture act as brackets for the rising
cubistic mass of houses. This stabilizing element allows him to continue
painting at a high emotional pitch. But in this and other Ceret landscapes
12 Soutine, Hill at Ceret, c. 1921, oil on canvas, 29 V* x21 5 /s". Collection Perls Galleries, New York
13 Photograph of hill at Ceret, 1967, by Maurice Tuchman 27
after the Hill at Ceret, the ferocity of thebrushstroking abates, and jagged PL 16
angularities of linear movement yield to larger, more gracefully curved
rhythms. Pictures like this, of basically architectural motifs, begin to
occur more often now. They appear to be basically expressionistic treat-
ments of scenes first filtered through the eyes of Cezanne or a Cubist
painter. In Tworkov's words, Soutine's "way is to liquefy the building
blocks of Cezanne " 2t>
Some months later, when Soutine again painted the Ceret hill, he PL 19
stepped back, as it were, to allow a greater calm and definition to emerge.
The hill is more legible and is symmetrically flanked by cypresses and
clouds. Instead of a claustrophobic tangle, there now comes a hint of the
characteristic aspect of later pictures at Cagnes — entrance into the land-
scape, via upward-winding road or stairs.
Soutine made visits to Cagnes in 1922 and 1923; certain pictures fuse
Ceret and Cagnes characteristics, as in the Landscape with Cypresses. PL 23
The central zone of bare tree and thicket is clearly Ceret in subject and
treatment, but the clear demarcation of spatial zones, the physiognomic
aspect of the architecture (the houses are now anthropomorphic, rather
than the strokes), and the inclusion of a reclining figure are typical of his
Cagnes works. Although the thicket is dense and airless, the entire picture
nevertheless contains an atmospheric quality related to the greater breadth
and expansiveness of Cagnes landscapes.
During the so-called Cagnes period, 1 923-25, the artist divided his time
between Cagnes, neighboring villages, and Paris. The phrase '"Cagnes
style" is employed to distinguish his work at this stage from later work
in Paris. At Cagnes the palette becomes brighter and more luminous, due
in part to the summer climate of the Midi. An airy, buoyant, fairytale qual-
ity typifies mature Cagnes landscapes. More often than not, a large view
of the town, seen from above (not below as at Ceret) typifies the Cagnes
style. As noted, the road image serves as a visual entrance into the picture Pis. 29-32
forms, as opposed to the striking absence of any possible accessibility
in the Ceret works. The sense of fantasy befits this new motif, just as the
dualism of despair-ecstasy is tied to the self-enclosure of Ceret motifs.
Energy which had been projected into the brushstroke and pigment be-
comes transformed into the composing and balancing of shapes.
During the Ceret period Soutine's brushstroke carries the weight of
the pictorial drama. In his utter reliance on spontaneous execution, with
its leaning toward the abstract, Soutine in these years most fully embodied
the expressionist vision. The ascendant importance of the individual
14 Fouquet, Portrait of Charles VII. c. 1451, panel painting, 33% x 28%". Collection Musee du Louvre. Photograph courtesy Giraudon
15 Modigliani, Caryatid, c. 1912, oil on canvas, 32 x 17%". Collection Perls Galleries, New York
16 Kokoschka, Still Life with Tortoise and Hyacinth, 1909, oil on canvas, 34 l A x44%"
brushstroke, the singular touch of the painter's hand, is common to the
many modern expressionist styles, abstract as well as representational,
from Van Gogh through Soutine to the American abstract expressionists.
The expressionist stroke is loaded, highly charged and self-assertive. It
carries the gesture of the artist in the painting act, and implies the force
of body movement, not merely the motion of the wrist, as in Impression-
ism. The expressionist painter's touch contains in embryo the qualities of
his larger expression. It is one of the miracles of art that a mere mark can
be so evocative of feeling and sensibility. Thus Van Gogh's stroke seems to
burn into canvas with savage but deliberate forcefulness; Rouault's char-
acteristic stroke is like a flagellant's blow, ecstatic and unconstrained;
Kokoschka's mark is a seismographic quiver, an exquisitely sensitive
recorder of decay and musty glamour: Kandinsky's touch may be dainty
or aggressively blunt, thin and spindly, or feverishly explosive, but it is
always in unpredictable dynamic flux; Soutine's typical stroke is usually
not a line but a fleshy patch, a section of sentient visceral matter. De
Kooning's emphatic method, influenced by Soutine. piles one potent
charge of paint upon another, implying even more consistently than
Soutine a constantly self-generating process.
The singular approach to portraiture which is present as early as 1916
PL 1 , ///. 5 in Portrait of a Nurse and Portrait of M. Chauveau remains typical of
Soutine throughout his life; basically, it is the distinctive manner in which
the figure is placed in the picture field. Subjects are set into their pictorial
space with a certain clumsy rigor. They are centrally and frontally posi-
tioned. The tendency to a kind of primitive or naive approach is due in
part to the example of Soutine's close friend Modigliani. Another indica-
tion of Modigliani's influence upon Soutine's figure compositions occurs
in the typical Ceret portrait, in which a figure is set against a real or imag-
ined hanging drapery, flanked on both sides by empty space, usually in
///. 15 distinctly vertical format. Compare Modigliani's Caryatid to Soutine's
PL 28 Little Pastiy Cook. Soutine's figures face you and command your atten-
tion. Yet they are apparently indifferent to the presence of the artist. While
Soutine "projected" himself into his portraits, there is still much individual
characterization in these works. A photograph of one of Soutine*s models,
the Farm Girl, taken at Cagnes twenty-six years after she posed for
Soutine, still reveals a remarkable likness. There is little trace in Soutine's Ills. 16. 17
portraits of the typically modern dialogue between painter and model
which is so characteristic, for example, of the early portraits of Oskar
Kokoschka who, apart from Soutine. is probably the most original por-
trait painter of the century. Soutine's personages pose purely and simply:
they do not develop the freer tendency signaled by Van Gogh's portraits.
The models of Soutine pose in a "classical" manner. Whereas the subjects
of Renaissance masters are represented in an ennobling manner, symbol-
izing their occupation or social position, those of Soutine project an awk-
wardness, a sense of prolonged constraint, as in old daguerreotypes.
Soutine's admiration for Egyptian sculpture may be a precedent for the
sense in his work of tension resulting from movement become frozen and
still. At first glance, Soutine's models are seemingly free in their life space,
but they are flattened and distorted, spread out and hung up. Their flesh
is metamorphosed into purely colored paste, its viscous surface often of
the same textural consistency as the background or surrounding space.
All is flesh, all as if flesh were grafted onto flesh. (Roald Dahl's short story.
"Skin," features "Chaim Soutine" tattooing a portrait with "that twisted,
tortured, quality" all over a friend's back — a brilliant metaphor of
Soutine's actual approach. 30 )
Between 1918 and 1923, when he reached the age of thirty. Soutine
painted several self portraits. The most famous of these, in the collection
of Henry Pearlman, is characterized by its predominant bright reds and PL 5
greens, reminiscent of a famous Van Gogh self portrait. The boldness of
the color contrasts define the principal forms: the oval of the head is
placed in the center of the picture, and the pose, directly frontal, with a
fixed gaze, gives an impression of rigid concentration. Soutine's next self
portrait, painted about 1920, is an image of immobility and pain. As in
other portraits, the model is placed, or pressed, against a wall-hanging. ///. 1
The treatment of the flesh is the same as of the clothing and curtain. The
impression of a central mass is augmented by the rigidness of the pose,
with the arms pinned against the sides, a surprising posture for a self por-
trait. A void encloses the figure: the scarf around the neck accentuates the
sense of restriction. An eerie sense of dislocation is suggested by the head
and artist's left arm: they seem to be severed from the torso. As in all his
self portraits, the hands are eliminated. This is a significant fact in the light
of the importance which the hands have in his portraits of others. Soutine's
own hands, remarkably slender and delicate, impressed those who knew
him. including Modigliani (see Modigliani's portrait of Soutine in
Washington's National Gallery). Ills. 19. 20
Soutine's last self portrait, again in tones of red and green, was started
at Ceret and finished at Cagnes in 1923. The artist clearly had trouble PL 34
resolving the picture to his satisfaction, perhaps because it is a pitiless,
ruthless work, ridden with self-contempt. The artist's left arm has been
painted out, sliced away in an abrupt manner. A series of gyrating rhythms
was added later to widen the back of the figure; these green strokes,
curiously unmatched to the original yellow of the coat, have the hue of
Cagnes painting. Rarely did Soutine come so close to caricature as in this
work; for while caricature seizes on a few salient features for exaggera-
tion. Soutine typically remakes the entire face, exaggerating everything,
so far as is possible, rather than selecting a few features in accordance
with a witty formula. But in the last self portrait Soutine scornfully
stretches the nose, widens the ear, diminishes the eyes and makes the lips
Soutine almost always painted the figure from a disconcertingly short
distance, and always head on, frontally, except for an extraordinary series
of Ceret portraits of praying men. The fully frontal or three-quarter view Pis. 25-26
is of course more conducive to a painterly approach, in contrast to the
calligraphic portraits of Kokoschka, which are so often in profile (i.e.,
Herwarth Walden). The act of supplication, however, is particularly
suited to a profile view, because a praying person is detached from the
viewer. In Soutine's painting the entire figure is transmogrified into a red,
flame-like shape, recalling the common shtetl vision of God as a non-
corporeal burning presence.
In this series as well as in other Ceret portrait paintings, Soutine strives
for an all-pervasive unity. To this end he employs an homogenous surface
texture and intuitively invents a system of deformations, a lexicon of sim-
ple angular forms which impart to the face and body the same expressive-
ness. Fewer portraits than landscapes were painted at Ceret, and these
generally have a sense of a landscape approach; the praying figures are
like some organic form threatened and bent by the forces of nature.
Corresponding to the sharper and more angular style of this period,
the models at Ceret are almost always men; at Cagnes (1923-25), most
of the portraits are female, conforming to the curvilinear flowing rhythms
basic to the style of this period. At Ceret, angularity attends the detach-
men and rigidity of Soutine's models; man is seen as a symbol of nature.
17 Soutine, Farm Girl, c. 1921, oil on canvas, 31Vi x \1Vi". Collection Dr. and Mrs. Harry Baku in, New York
18 Photograph of Soutine model, Cagnes, 1959. Courtesy Paris Match 33
. _. -
This identification of man and nature is already evident in the 1918 Self
Portrait where the clothing resembles a volcanic flow. At Cagnes, the PI. 5
exact opposite holds; landscape becomes secondary to portraiture both in
production and quality, and landscape takes on consistently anthropo-
morphic qualities — houses look like faces.
The Woman in Red, one of Soutine's most famous paintings, was dated PL 41
circa 1 922 by Monroe Wheeler; the smooth rounded curves of the picture
suggest, however, a greater distance from the angularity characteristic
of Ceret. This is one of the first paintings with a large, daring elliptical
shape, anticipating the still lifes of the mid-twenties. The picture has been Pis. 59, 60
cleaned since it was reproduced in Wheeler, revealing that an important
portion of the hat had been over-painted, almost certainly not by the
artist. The retouching had drastically altered the design of the entire can-
vas by breaking the rhythmic flow from hat through chair and arms, and
by weakening the forceful oppositions in the face.
Soutine's attraction to uniformed figures and to dead animals was
simultaneous. Interest in both types of subjects was awakened and de-
clined at the same time, from 1923 to about 1928. In the great still
lifes, enormous quarters of beef hang, entrails exposed, the internal sub- Pis. 65, 66
stance of their life analysed and painted with great care. Pheasants, geese
and other deplumed fowl are strung up by their necks. Large ominous Pis. 69-71,
face-like rayfish hover behind tables. Some critics have insisted that Sou- 62-64
tine wanted to project the spectacle of putrid flesh out of morbid interest
in decay. But a look at a painting like Kokoschka's Still Life with Tortoise
and Hyacinth — an image of mould, a veritable emblem of nausea — points ///. 20
up how far removed Soutine's work is from such romantic morbidity. The
fascination of flesh for Soutine resides not at all in Weltschmerz, but in its
character as the primary element, the primordial material. His passion is
for the texture and color of flesh. The dense, rich color-pigment of the
Beef is of the same order as the Girl in Pink and is also related to the Ceret PI. 45
landscape vision. Sometimes Soutine's portraits also resemble certain still
lifes in the way the form is flattened and stretched out at both sides, as
though the figure were being prepared for anatomical dissection.
The true analogy between the twenties still lifes and figure paintings lies
in Soutine's choice of uniformed figures. Uniforms are interesting visually Pis. 35, 46, 49-52
and significant spiritually. Uniforms undoubtedly appealed to Soutine by
their unified tonality and less varied textures than "civilian" garments.
And the effect of the uniform is to hide individuality, to de-personalize, to
cover uniqueness with anonymity. In Soutine's portraits of costumed fig-
19 Modigliani, Chaim Soutine, 1917, oil on canvas, 36!/s X23V4". Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C. Chester Dale Collection
20 Modigliani, Portrait of Soutine, 1917, pencil drawing on paper, 17 x 10%". Collection Lee Vandervelde, Los Angeles
ures the uniform serves as a sort of artificial skin, an extension, or analogy,
of flesh. He sought to translate both materials into a membrane of oil pig-
ment, for him a sort of protoplasmic source of all things. Except on one
occasion, when Soutine painted a professional model, he never painted a
nude. And in this work (reproduced Wheeler p. 92, see bibl. 78). the nude
woman stands so self-consciously, her posture of abashed timidity is so
painfully obvious, that one is touched by the artist's own embarrassment.
There is great irony in the fact that an artist whose brushstroke is so
sensual, and whose method depends so completely on the presence of
the model, should shrink from depicting the female body. But it is under-
standable in the light of the shtetl's severe injunction against witnessing
nakedness. By painting uniforms Soutine avoided these anxieties and
could work impasto as if it were living clay.
Painting in series became more necessary to Soutine in the "Paris
period," 1925-29. Subjects became more difficult to find and they took
on greater significance to the artist. He would not paint "variations on a
theme," however. His concern was to get the image right, no matter how
many trials it took. Some subjects were painted twenty times, and there is
startingly little significant formal variation to be found in such series. The
difference is in their quality, a matter usually of the vivid, febrile aliveness
of the surface.
Sometimes Soutine was led to a motif by the painting of an earlier mas-
///. 22 ter. Chardin's Still Life with Rayfish in the Louvre inspired Soutine to
make at least three paintings of this eerily human-like fish in 1924-25.
///. 21 Rembrandt's Beef Carcass, also in the Louvre, led Soutine to install a
carcass in his studio at Rue du Mont St. Gothard. He had to set up a
model. Once Soutine made an overnight train trip to Amsterdam just to
see Rembrandt's The Jewish Bride, then went directly back to his Paris
studio and tried to paint it from memory. He could not do it. and de-
stroyed his attempt. The choice and position of both these subjects, rather
than any specific stylistic feature, comprised the essential influence on
Soutine. These works are not "interpretations" of Rembrandt or Chardin,
nor are they paintings of paintings as. for example, are some of Picasso's
late paintings after Velasquez, They are singular in modern art as candid
acknowledgments of older work. Their modernity, compared to their
seventeenth and eighteenth century prototypes, rests in their great size
(the beefs are among the largest Soutines) , the striking vibrancy ( a result
of many daring contrasts of pure tones) and the prevailing sensuousness
of pigment, even into background areas.
It is now possible to present a full view of Soutine*s manner of working,
drawing upon the observations of a dozen personal acquaintances of the
artist. While Soutine's way of painting changed over the years, certain
consistencies remained. Always, the subject was his inspiration. As time
went on. fewer subjects presented themselves to him: longer were the
periods of lassitude and dejection.
In Paris during the twenties he would search the poultry shops with a
friend for a particular chicken, one with a "long neck and blue skin." His
friends recount how Soutine pronounced the word 'blue' with savor, al-
most gluttony —"You know, a beautiful 'bellue'." On one occasion, the
poulterer offered him a fat chicken, out of sympathy for Soutine's appar-
ent poverty, but Soutine insisted on buying an emaciated fowl: "I want
a very lean chicken with a long neck and flaccid skin." Finally, much to
the poulterer's bewilderment, he found the wretched specimen he wanted.
On the street he held up the bird admiringly and said. "I'm going to hang
it up by the beak with a nail. In a few days it should be perfect."" 1 Another ///. 23
friend of Soutine's recalls going with him to a butcher to buy a calf's head
and explaining to the butcher why he had to choose it himself. "You do
understand." he said. "I want a calf's head of distinction." 3 - The prob-
lems posed by obtaining live human models were of course somewhat
greater. There is a famous story about how Soutine became enraptured
with the wife of a proud peasant, how he implored the poor woman to
pose for him. persuaded friends to vouch for the purity of his motive, and
finally succeeded. But he failed to convince her husband. Finally, after
days of pleading and threatening, he managed to obtain the woman's serv-
ice. 3 " The act of pursuing, locating, seizing and fixing the model before
him is analogous to the passion with which he finally painted the subject.
When the sought-after subject was positioned, he would simply stare at
it for a long time before picking up charcoal or brush. In the words of his
mistress, "Mile. Garde," "Soutine set off in search of any trees worth
painting. At last he found a subject. As usual, he looked at the subject at
least ten times before deciding to paint it. He went, came back, returned
and made so much commotion running back and forth between our house
and the trees that it aroused the attention of the police who thought he
must be a dangerous madman." 34 He could not bear to have anyone watch
him while he painted, nor did he allow anyone to see his work until it was
finished and judged acceptable by him. Mile. Garde tells us, "He was so
bashful about his unfinished work that he would go so far as to write to
me, when we were apart, to tell me not to look at the paintings in progress
in his studio." 33 For a time in the thirties, Soutine had a chauffeur. This
man told Pierre Courthion in 1960 that when Soutine worked in the
country he would place himself with the easel so that no one could be
behind him. In painting the Tree at Vence, for example, he lodged him- Pis. 72, 73
self in a corner. Because of the security this spot offered him — as well as
the fact that to him this particular tree was, in his words, "like a cathe-
dral" 30 — he made a large series of paintings of it.
Once started. Soutine generally worked in a frenzy of exaltation oblivi-
ous to the weather or the human needs of his model. (Once a thunderous
cloudburst drenched both him and his subject but he forbade her to move
and nearly finished the painting during the storm.) It is said that one day,
in a fury of painting, he dislocated his thumb. Monroe Wheeler tells us
that "he kept his brushes immaculate, one for each nuance of color and
each magnitude of brush-stroke, beginning with about forty of them, and
discarding them on the floor as fast as he used them." 37 A lady painter
who once was privileged to watch him in his studio recounts that, "he flung
the colors onto the canvas like poisonous butterflies." 3S Another report of
Soutine working on the beef series in 1 925 has it that he "threw himself
from a distance bang bang bang at the canvas." 3 ' "He worked intensely
until he reached a state of exhaustion," reports the sculptor Chana Orloff .
"The rapidity of his execution was incredible. He would harbor an idea
for months, and then take up his brushes, abandoning them only when
the canvas was finished." 40 A model who posed for Soutine early in his life
in Paris described Soutine at work: "He turned as red as a crayfish, open-
ing his eyes wide, and his beautiful fingers rubbed his throat and caressed
his face. The emotion seemed to stimulate a sense of the colors in him, and
he muttered incomprehensible words between his clenched teeth." 41
"It all depends," Soutine said, "on the way you mix color, catch it,
place it." 42 Soutine's concern with getting the image exactly as he felt it,
and his relative lack of interest in fitting the image within the picture field,
is illustrated in the Portrait of a Child, painted over colorfully patterned ///. 24
linoleum; he was able to work directly on the inflected field without dis-
traction, an almost inconceivable approach for any other modern artist.
This single-minded concern for his own projected image is reflected in his
choice and use of canvas. It is well known that Soutine, beginning in the
early Paris years, would search the flea market to buy old, worthless
paintings, that he would scour, clean and then paint over them. At first
this may have been partly for economic reasons. But he maintained this
habit even when he could afford new canvases. Jokingly, perhaps, he men-
2 1 Rembrandt, Beef Carcass, 1 655, oil on wood, 37 x 26% ". Collection Musee du Louvre. Photograph courtesy Vizzavona, Paris
22 Chardin. Still Life with Ray fish. c. 1728, oil on canvas, 44% x 57V5". Collection Musee du Louvre. Photograph courtesy Vizzavona, Paris 39
tioned that "this vandalism, which makes me eliminate a bad painting,
obliges me to make a masterpiece." 43 He may have felt that the old bed of
paint was a better receiver of the textures he would add to it. He used to
say of the cleaned surface of the old canvases: "I like to paint on some-
thing smooth. / like my brush to slide."**
A number of Soutine paintings were photographed in 1933. These
photographs provide direct evidence that Soutine tacked his canvases
to the wall, only summarily marking off the edge, which allowed him to
cut down or enlarge the field of his painting after the image was realized. IU. 25
He had no real understanding of scale. In this deficiency, Kikoine's remark
that no painter from the shtetl could ever completely overcome the ab-
sence of a pictorial tradition is relevant. Soutine, however, did compose
in a fresh and often a sophisticated manner in regard to the inner har-
monies of the image, not in relationship of the image to the picture frame.
In this way, he is unlike most important twentieth century artists, to whom
the entire canvas surface is of crucial concern, so that inflections of the
field are metaphors of world-space. The supreme paradox in Soutine's
work is that, while above all it is born in the perceiving process, it is not
an art meant to be observed. That Soutine himself felt this way is strongly
suggested by the fact that he never had any paintings on his wall, not his
own or anyone else's, not even reproductions of old masters. His canvases
were carelessly strewn and stacked, unstretched. in a closet or locked
room. Soutine's art was made from urgent inner necessity. It demands to
be similarly experienced, not dispassionately contemplated. Soutine him-
self could not be dispassionate about his own work, as is indicated by his
reaction to one of his own paintings, a portrait of a small girl. He at-
tempted to retrieve this work from a dealer in order to repaint it. When
the dealer refused to relinquish it, Soutine grudgingly acquiesced, but
implored him, "Please don't look too closely at her feet. She is very poor
and her shoes need mending." 1 "' He thought of the personages in his own
art as real, living additions to the natural world. Soutine's paintings
should not be considered as examples in art history, or as a search for
formal solutions to painterly problems. As much as it often relates to
older painting. Soutine's art is eminently not about art.
Szittya relates that accomplishing a painting always made Soutine
sad. 46 The artist apparently could not conceive of his work as having
any real value, but he stridently maintained that, even so, it was better
than that of any other contemporary painter, "better than Modigliani.
Chagall and Kremegne. Someday I will destroy my canvases but they
23 Photograph of Soutine. Courtesy Roger- Viollet, Paris
are too cowardly to do it." 47 He lacerated and destroyed many of his
paintings with the same frenzy that attended their creation. Sometimes
he would lay out a series of works on the floor, as if they were on exhibi-
tion, study them for hours and then seize a knife and plunge it into
several works. He would destroy works immediately if anyone expressed
any reservation about their quality, or if the viewer happened to say
that they reminded him of another artist. Destroying his Ceret paint-
ings became for Soutine an actual diversion, strangely entertaining to
him, enjoyable like the savagery of the wrestling matches which he regu-
larly attended. He would install his mistress in a cafe, go in search of a
Ceret picture he had heard some dealer owned, exchange with him a new
picture for the old one, and ritually, happily, destroy it.
It should be noted that complete destruction was not always the in-
tention of his attacks, except that destruction vented upon the Ceret
pictures. Sometimes Soutine would lacerate a picture simply to cut out
the portion of canvas he liked. In a picture of a reclining female, for
example, Soutine focused upon the poignant expression of weariness in
the model's face — a weariness prompted by Soutine's forcing her not to
move for hours until she practically fainted. Having elicited the exact
mood he had wanted, Soutine hastily painted the face and figure. Later,
when he displayed the picture, he was dismayed when a viewer did not
comment on the enervated look in the model's eyes, and he promptly
slashed away almost all of the canvas, save for the face of the model. 48
In his overriding concern with the image (as opposed to the relationship
of image and field), Soutine was absolutely opposed to virtually all im-
portant twentieth century art. Soutine's desire was almost exclusively to
make the perception a concrete reality.
Acute observers have noticed that often Soutine's lacerations were
confined to the edges of the canvas, leaving the central image intact. (In
practically all of Soutine's still lifes and portraits, and in many of his
landscapes, the forms are centrally located in the picture field.) Rene
Gimpel records that Soutine told him that he often lacerated his canvases
"so that the dealers may recanvas them, as after the recanvasings they
are more beautiful than he could make them." 49 And Szittya relates that
once Soutine "discovered nine of his canvases that someone had re-
covered from the trash bins, repaired in a masterly fashion and carefully
resuscitated. They seemed newer than when Soutine had destroyed them.
It is said that he found them 'not so bad' and that he winked slyly." 50
Judging from the accounts now available, it appears that Soutine did not
24 Soutine, Portrait of a Child, c. 1934, oil on linoleum, 14'/s x 9". Photograph courtesy Max Kaganovitch, Paris
mind if the composition was altered to some degree, provided that there
was no tampering with his brushstroke. This sent him into a rage.
All observers of Soutine's work point out that he almost never sketched
or made drawings. Mile. Garde, who lived with him for four years, tells
us that he "never even drew mechanically, on paper napkins, as many
painters do," and that he always began by "putting paint directly on the
canvas without any preliminary drawing." 51 Of course Soutine was rarely
seen painting by anyone. Now evidence has emerged that indicates that
Soutine did sketch on canvas, at least sometimes, probably preparatory
to painting. Jean Leymarie published three such charcoal on canvas
sketches in 1963, and dated them 1937-41. 82 The style of these works,
however, bears no relationship at all to his painting of that time: they are
certainly connected to Soutine's portraits of about 1923.
The drawings reveal that Soutine was a draughtsman of elegance, ori-
ginality and unusual intensity. Now come to light after perhaps forty-five
years, their existence raises the question of the role of calligraphy in
Soutine's overwhelmingly painterly oeuvre. These drawings appear at
the time when Soutine's work takes on airiness and lightness and certain
fanciful delicate qualities completely unheralded in his earlier work. The
Cagnes period is characterized, indeed, by a shift from heavy, slashing
stroking to curvilinear, rhythmical gesticulations. Beginning at Cagnes
and until about 1929 there exists in Soutine's work an alternative ap-
proach (not yet discussed by critics) to the heavily impasted but fluid sur-
face so typical of the artist. An excellent example of this other manner is
the Pheasants, which is as ephemeral and subtle as it is sophisticated in its PL 69
design. When Soutine draws more and attacks the canvas less, he makes
more elaborate compositions, employing a greater number of objects.
Noteworthy too is the fact that in these more sophisticated works, the
painter distances himself from the objects: they are small in relation to
the total canvas surface. Beginning at least when he left Ceret, Soutine
was aware of the conflicting demands made by each approach, and of the
limitations inherent in each. (His later enmity toward Modigliani is inter-
esting in this regard, for once he scornfully declared that his deceased
friend's work "was not painting." 33 ) If Soutine captured the raw vigor of
lines and planes swarming on the picture surface, he lost the elegance of
rarefied, aloof formal organization, and vice versa. A synthesis was occa-
sionally reached: in the Woman in Red, for instance, a controlled, search- PL 41
ing outline encloses an ecstatic fluidity of direct stroking.
25 Photograph of Soutine unstretched canvas. Landscape, c. 1919. Whereabouts unknown. Photograph courtesy Giraudon, 1933 45
Dr. Albert C. Barnes' famous acquisition in 1923 of scores of Soutine
paintings (estimates vary from 50 to 100), as well as subsequent pur-
chases of Soutine's work by other collectors the following year, created
a demand for his paintings which continued throughout his life. After
this Soutine never again had to worry about financial deprivation. He
avoided the haunts of his earlier Paris years and broke relations with
most of his previous friends. He developed odd fetishes, such as buying
dozens of hats of exactly the same shape and gray color. He apparently
came to believe that clothing had almost supernatural powers. Once
during the Occupation, the Jewish artist was seen strolling nonchalantly
in a Paris street. Alarmed, a friend stopped him and warned him of the
danger of being recognized and apprehended, but Soutine tried to assure
his friend that he couldn't be recognized because he was wearing a new
blue hat. 54 Although Soutine had a full, thick shock of hair, he lived in
mortal fear of losing it and went so far as to engage the services of a nun
who visited him regularly to massage and treat it with a special tonic.
A friend recalls that on one occasion his anxiety grew to such proportions
that he clapped a raw egg on his head and covered it with a hat: he had
heard that this was a remedy for baldness. Soutine always had "hydro-
phobia," as Paul Guillaume humorously wrote in 1923, although his
seeming aversion to bathing was actually owing in part to his fear of
mechanical instruments. Mile. Garde tells us that some months after he
had moved into a modern apartment house, he hadn't had a single bath
because he didn't know how to work the water heater. 55
Soutine also had phobias which were much sadder and more serious.
He once told Henri Serouya that he was afraid to deposit money in a
bank because when he went there he would be overcome by a terrifying
conviction that the uniformed guard was going to creep up behind and
strangle him as he stood before the teller's window. 56 A still more disturb-
ing story concerns the illness which Soutine suffered when he found, in
an old discarded tin, a piece of ham he had thrown out. Soutine, who
suffered from ulcers all his life, imagined that the other part of the meat,
which he had cooked and eaten days before, was now rotting in his
stomach as it did in the garbage and that it would soon poison him. 07
Around 1929 Soutine's palette dims noticeably; the nervous heat of
PL 55 his color cools down. Even when, as in Young Woman in Red, he em-
ploys the red-blue combination — so typically French at first glance, but
actually alien to the calculated restraint of French painters in its high
saturation — the effect is one of emotional diminution, of resonance and
sonority. Accompanying this shift toward a more harmonious, if less
daring, chromatic homogeneity, is a blurring of the edges of shapes. The
outlines of the figures now do not have that earlier quality of searching
and exploration. This is often reflected in the facial characterizations of
the models, as timidity and passiveness replaces the more animated or
anguished expressions of earlier subjects. One thinks of the paintings
of the thirties as figure paintings, not as portraits. Rarely do the later
figures confront us directly. For the most part, they do not gesticulate,
but stand or lie inertly, their hands at their sides, or supporting the head. Pis. 75, 77, 78
They are tired. Their eyes are veiled or downcast. At times one has the 89, 90
sense that the later subjects indicate their feelings with identifiable facial 79-81
mannerisms, rather than having been conjured into life by the painter's
all-over inventive, ambiguous and impulsive stroking. To be sure, Soutine
chose different kinds of subjects. In the twenties the servants he portrayed
were those of the great Parisian night clubs and hotels, "characters" like
those encountered in George Orwell's book of the same period, Down
and Out in Paris and London. In the thirties, however, Soutine selected
domestics in bourgeois homes, simpler people, less ambitious and striv-
ing, and also less scarred by exploitation. Their garments are not the
bright pure colors of uniformed figures on public display but the less
assertive shades of household clothing. Soutine turns away from painting
dead animals and makes pictures of sheep, donkeys and pigs. The charac-
teristic tone in pictures beginning in the early thirties is sadness. The
surface of Soutine's work now is often filmy (his attraction toward Cour-
bet begins now). The exacerbated charge imbuing each thrust of paint
becomes diffuse and thinned. Correspondingly, the shapes are no longer
immersed in a dense field, so that near and far become one; now they
lie on the "ground"; they repose or float on the canvas surface. Again this
is reflected in an interesting way in the figure paintings. His models now
rest on the ground; they are not pressed into it as before. They may
stand between two flanking shapes, instead of being pinned up against
a drapery like a hanging fowl. Consonant with the quieter mood of land-
scapes of the early thirties, and with the increased distance between
painter and subject, is an alignment of forms into the middle-ground so
that often they are encased above and below by areas of sky and ground
roughly equal in size. Thus an image of the thirties is typically bracketed Pis. 84, 85, 87-89
within four flanking areas.
In a series of landscapes painted between 1936 and the end of his life,
Soutine appears to have held himself at a distance in order to paint a
broader, more grandiose vision. The art of the thirties had aspired to-
ward a state of timelessness and permanence. In this final series, Soutine
aims for an expression of majesty. These are not tactile responses to
the dynamics of nature, involved with constant flux, immersion and self-
generation, as was true earlier. These landscapes are more legible, or-
ganized, calligraphic and lyrical than the earlier work of the thirties.
Some of the landscapes are reduced to focus on two children, a small boy
Ph. 87, 88 and girl holding hands, perhaps on their return from school. A series
of this theme, made in the late thirties, is unprecedented for its faintly
anecdotal nature and its distinct air of gentle, sweet pathos. In such
PL 76 images as individual children or mother and child together. Soutine re-
turns at the end of his life to themes not touched on since his first years
in Paris. Often one senses in these late works a yearning for a new, safe
childhood. The long receding road in many of them implies a heartsick
loneliness. In these portrayals a new stylistic element is introduced, the
darting flick which delineates foliage and suggests motion. In place of
the earlier brushstroke, which implied the involvement of the entire
body in the painting act, there is now the feeling that the stroke comes
from the wrist. The sentient visceral patch becomes a tensely charged
arabesque. Perhaps in these late works Soutine again attempted to resolve
the linear-painterly dichotomy. There are, then, profound differences
between Soutine's early and late manners. But it must be understood
that, regardless of the period, Soutine's "hand is the dancer, following
the rhythm of the disturbances of the soul." 58
From 1931 to 1935 Soutine spent his summers near Chartres at the
country chateau of patrons. His production declined sharply in this time.
The periods of waiting for inspiration became ever longer. He continued
his wandering in search of the right landscape, the right model. Mile.
Garde lived with him from 1936 until 1939. She relates that Soutine
would hunt for four-leaf clovers for hours on end.
Under the German Occupation, Soutine. as a registered Jew, was
forced to take refuge outside Paris in Champigny-sur-Veuldre and other
small provincial towns. Several times he was forced to flee from one
sanctuary to another when discovery by the Nazis threatened him. His
stomach ulcer became more painful and violent attacks of indigestion
became more frequent. In August of 1943 he suffered a severe rupture
of the ulcer. Because of the dangers of the Occupation, much time was
lost in removing him to a Paris clinic. Soutine died during the operation
on August 9, 1943.
1 Mark Zborowski and Elizabeth Herzog,
Life is With People, New York,
Schocken, 1962, p. 79.
2 Letter by Kikoine in Raymond Cogniat,
Soutine, Paris, Editions du Chene,
1945, p. 29.
3 Chana Orloff, "Mon ami Soutine,"
Preuves (Paris), November 1951, p. 18.
4 Cogniat, loc. cit.
5 Henri Serouya, Soutine, ( 1 960),
unpublished typescript in French, p. 16.
Translation of this and other
sections by Jane Livingston.
6 Loc. cit.
1 Zborowski, op. cit., p. 4 1 1 .
8 Ibid., p. 301.
9 Abraham J. Heschel,
"The Eastern European Era in Jewish
History," Yivo Annual of Jewish Social
Science, New York, 1946, p. 1.
Selected Short Stories of Sholom A leichem,
New York, 1950, preface.
Zborowski, op. cit., p. 413.
Irving Howe and Eliezer Greenberg, eds.,
A Treasury of Yiddish Stories,
Cleveland and New York,
Meridian, 1958, p. 8.
14 Bible, O.T., A. V. English, Apocrypha,
Wisdom of Solomon, Chapter 15:5.6.
15 Zborowski, op. cit., pp. 312-313.
16 Ibid., pp. 316-317.
17 Ibid.,p. 339.
1 8 Serouya, op. cit., p. 49.
19 Zborowski, op. cit., pp. 393-394.
20 Howe, op. cit., p. 11.
21 Emile Szittya, Soutine et son temps,
Paris, La Bibliotheque des Arts,
1 955, pp. 1 07- 1 08. Translation of this
and other sections by Jane Livingston.
22 Cogniat, op. cit., p. 29.
23 David Sylvester, Chaim Soutine,
London, The Arts Council,
1963, p. 12[bibl. 119],
24 Meyer Schapiro, Van Gogh,
New York, Abrams, 1951, p. 18.
Sylvester, op. cit., p. 7.
Jack Tworkov. "The Wandering Soutine,'
Art News, vol. 49, no. 7,
part 1, November 1950, p. 31.
Thomas B. Hess, Abstract Painting,
New York, Viking, 1951, pp. 69-70.
Told to the author in 1958
by Professor Meyer Schapiro
and subsequently by Jacques Lipchitz.
Tworkov, op. cit., p. 3 1 .
Roald Dahl, "Skin,"
in Someone Like You, New York,
Dell, 1965, pp. 91-106.
Les Peintres que j'ai connus,
Paris, Fayard, 1954, pp. 177-178.
Rene Gimpel, Diary of an Art Dealer,
New York, Farrar, Strauss
and Giroux, 1966, p. 377.
Monroe Wheeler. Soutine, New York,
Museum of Modern Art, 1950,
pp. 79, 81 [bibl. 77].
34 "My Years with Soutine,"
as told by 'Mademoiselle Garde"
to Michel Ragon, in
The Selective Eye, p. 146 [bibl. 24].
35 Ibid.,p. 145.
36 Pierre Courthion. Soutine,
unpublished typescript, (1960), p. 51.
37 Wheeler, op. cit., p. 75.
38 Szittya, op. cit., p. 38.
39 Paulette Jourdain as quoted
by Courthion, op. cit., p. 44.
40 Orloff, op. cit., p. 20.
41 Szittya, op. cit., p. 45.
42 Marcellin Castaing and Jean Leymarie,
Soutine, New York, Abrams, 1963,
p. 32 [bibl. 31].
43 Orloff, loc. cit.
44 Courthion, loc. cit.
45 Told to the author by
Max Kaganovitch in January, 1963.
46 Szittya, op. cit., p. 38.
47 Ibid., pp. 46-47.
48 Serouya, op. cit., p. 99.
49 Gimpel, op. cit., p. 375.
50 Szittya, op. cit., p. 103.
51 Garde, op. cit., p. 145.
52 Castaing and Leymarie, op. cit., p. 34.
53 Orloff, op. cit., p. 17.
54 Ibid., p. 21.
55 Garde, op. cit.. p. 144.
56 Serouya, op. cit., p. 41.
57 Loc. cit.
58 Tworkov, op. cit., p. 62.
26 Photograph of Soutine's last palette, 14 3 /s x 1 l 5 /s". Collection Museum of Modern Art, New York, gift of Pierre Loeb
Dr. and Mrs. Harry Bakwin, New York
Mr. and Mrs. Sydney R. Barlow, Beverly Hills
Mr. and Mrs. John A . Beck, Houston
Mr. and Mrs. Michael Bennahum, New York
Mrs. Andrew Best, London
Mr. and Mrs. Sidney F. Brody, Los Angeles
Comdr. Sir Michael Culme-Seymour , Bt., London
Nathan Cummings, Chicago
Mr. and Mrs. Otto Edler, London
Mr. and Mrs. Herman Elkon, New York
Mr. and Mrs. Henry David Epstein, New York
Mr. and Mrs. David Finkle, New York
Mr. and Mrs. Henry F. Fischbach, New York
Joseph H. Hazen, New York
Alfred Hitchcock, Los Angeles
Dr. Lucien Kleman, Paris
Mrs. Cecil Blaffer Hudson, Houston
Mrs. H. Harris Jonas, New York
Andras Kalman, London
Dr. and Mrs. Norman F. Laskey, Mt. Kisco, New York
Mr. and Mrs. Irving Levick, Buffalo, New York
Mr. and Mrs. S. J. Levin, Miami Beach
Pierre Levy, Troyes, France
Dr. and Mrs. Paul Todd Makler, Philadelphia
Mrs. Oscar Miestchaninoff, New York
Miss Carol Campbell Owen, Houston
Mr. and Mrs. Henry Pearlman, New York
Mrs. Sybil H. Perry, New Haven, Connecticut
Mr. and Mrs. Gregor Piatigorsky, Los Angeles
The Ritter Foundation, New York
Edward G. Robinson, Beverly Hills
Edmond Safra, Geneva
Mrs. Margaret Sangster, Hoylake, Cheshire, England
Mrs. Evelyn Sharp, New York
Dr. and Mrs. Howard D. Sirak, Columbus, Ohio
J. Spreiregen, London
Mr. and Mrs. Caleb Steinberg, Denver
Mr. and Mrs. Donald S. Stralem, New York
Lee Vandervelde, Los Angeles
Mr. and Mrs. Lew R. Wasserman, Beverly Hills
Mrs. Lloyd Bruce Wescott, Rosemont, New Jersey
Mr. and Mrs. Rodney L. White, New York
Richard S. Zeisler, New York
The Baltimore Museum of Art
The Art Institute of Chicago
The Cleveland Museum of Art
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
The Minneapolis Institute of Arts
Musee d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris
The Museum of Modern Art, New York
The Phillips Collection, Washington, D.C.
Portland Art Museum
Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam
The Tate Gallery, London
Galerie Beyeler, Basel
M. Knoedler and Co., Inc., New York
Marlborough-Gerson Gallery, Inc., New York
Perls Galleries, New York
E. and A . Silberman Galleries, New York
Galerie Andre Urban, Paris
CATALOG OF THE EXHIBITION
February 20-April 14, 196S
1 Portrait of a Nurse c. 1916, oil on canvas, 25'/2 x \9Vi" Los Angeles County Museum of Art
2 Still Life with Lemons c. 1916, oil on canvas, 25% xllVz" Mr. and Mrs. Irving Levick, Buffalo, New York
3 Flowers and Fish c. 1917, oil on canvas, 251/2 x 19%" Perls Galleries, New York
4 Spotted Vase c. 1917, oil on canvas, 25% x 18" Andras Kalman, London
5 Self Portrait c. 1918, oil on canvas, 2\Vi x 18" Mr. and Mrs. Henry Pearlman, New York
6 Red Gladioli c. 1918, oil on canvas, 2 1'/2 x 18" Mrs. Barnett Malbin (The Lydia and Harry Lewis Winston Collection),
7 Red Carnations c. 1919, oil on canvas, 22 x 18% " Mr. and Mrs. S. J. Levin, Miami Beach
8 Flowers and Fruit c. 1919, oil on canvas, 25 x 21" Mr. and Mrs. Henry David Epstein, New York
9 Landscape with Figure c. 1919, oil on canvas, 18x21 %" Perls Galleries, New York
10 Reclining Woman c. 1919, oil on canvas, 23% x 36V4 " Private collection, New York
1 1 Landscape c. 1919, oil on canvas, 18 x 24" E. and A. Silberman Galleries, New York
12 ViewofCeret c. 1919-20, oil on canvas, 2114 x 28%" Nathan Cummings, Chicago
13 Landscape at Ceret c. 1920, oil on canvas, 31% x 24" Galerie Beyeler. Basel, Switzerland
14 Landscape at Ceret c. 1 920-2 1 , oil on canvas, 24 x 32" Dr. and Mrs. Howard D. Sirak, Columbus, Ohio
15 Landscape at Ceret c. 1920-21, oil on canvas, 22 x 33" The Trustees of the Tate Gallery, London
16 HillatCeret c. 1921, oil on canvas, 2914 x 21%" Perls Galleries, New York
17 View of Ceret c. 1921, oil on canvas, 29V& x 29!<i" The Baltimore Museum of Art
Presented in Memory of George Siemonn by his Wife, Mabel Garrison Siemonn
18 Red Roofs, Ceret c. 1921-22, oil on canvas, 32 x 25 l /i" Henry Pearlman Foundation, New York
19 HillatCeret c. 1921-22, oil on canvas, 28% x 35%" Perls Galleries, New York
20 Landscape at Ceret c. 1922, oil on canvas, 31% x 34%" Dr. and Mrs. Paul Todd Makler, Philadelphia
21 Square at Ceret c. 1922, oil on canvas, 23% x 28%" Dr. and Mrs. Norman F. Laskey, Mt. Kisco, New York
22 Landscape c. 1922-23, oil on canvas, 25% x 15" Mrs. Cecil Blaffer Hudson, Houston
23 Landscape with Cypresses c. 1922-23, oil on canvas, 25% x 33" Mr. and Mrs. Caleb M. Steinberg, Denver
24 The Student c. 1921, oil on canvas, 28% x 23%" Mrs. Evelyn Sharp, New York
25 Praying Man c. 1921, oil on canvas, 35 Vs x 21 %" Dr. and Mrs. Paul Todd Makler, Philadelphia
26 Praying Man c. 1921. oil on canvas, 50% x 25" Private collection, Los Angeles
27 Portrait of a Woman c. 1922, oil on canvas, 45% x 22%" Mr. and Mrs. Gregor Piatigorsky. Los Angeles
28 Little Pastry Cook c. 1922, oil on canvas, 60% x 26" Portland Art Museum
29 Landscape with Flight of Stairs c. 1922-23, oil on canvas, 32 x 25" Mrs. Margaret Sangster, Cheshire, England
30 TheOldMill c. 1922-1923, oil on canvas, 26 1 /s x 32%" The Museum of Modern Art. New York
Vladimir Horowitz and Bernard Davis Funds
31 Landscape at Cagnes c. 1923-24, oil on canvas, 25 Vz x 31%" Dr. and Mrs. Howard D. Sirak, Columbus, Ohio
32 Landscape at Cagnes c. 1923-24, oil on canvas, 21 Vz x 25%" Mrs. Sybil H. Perry, New Haven, Connecticut
33 Farm Girl c. 1922-23, oil on canvas, 31'/2 x 17V4" Dr. and Mrs. Harry Bakwin, New York
34 Self Portrait c. 1922-23, oil on canvas, 3 1% x 24%" Musee dArt Moderne de la Ville de Paris
35 Pastry Cook c. 1923, oil on canvas, 25Vi x 19" Joseph H. Hazen, New York
36 Boy in Blue c. 1 924, oil on canvas. 36'/2 x 29" Mr. and Mrs. Henry F. Fischbach, New York
37 Portrait of a Man c. 1924, oil on canvas, 36 x 28" Mr. and Mrs. Gregor Piatigorsky, Los Angeles
38 Woman on Blue Ground c. 1924-25, oil on canvas, 24% x 19%" Musee dArt Moderne de La Ville de Paris
39 WomaninPink c. 1924-25, oil on canvas, 28V2 x 21%" Mr. and Mrs. S. J. Levin, Miami Beach
40 Woman Knitting c. 1924-25. oil on canvas, 25Vi x 32" J. Spreiregen. London
41 Woman in Red c. 1924-25, oil on canvas, 25 x 21" Dr. and Mrs. Harry Bakwin, New York
42 Portrait of a Woman c. 1924-25, oil on canvas, 32 x 22" Mr. and Mrs. Donald S. Stralem. New York
43 Woman in Blue Dress c. 1924-25, oil on canvas, 3Hsx 23%" Musee dArt Moderne de la Ville de Paris
44 GirlinPink c. 1924-25, oil on canvas, 29 x 21 Vz" Miss Carol Campbell Owen. Houston
45 GirlinPink c. 1924-25, oil on canvas, 34V2 x 25" Joseph H. Hazen, New York
46 The Communicant c. 1924-25, oil on canvas, 32 x 18%" Edward G. Robinson, Beverly Hills
47 Woman with Green Necklace c. 1926, oil on canvas, 35>/2 x 31%" Mr. and Mrs. Sydney R. Barlow, Beverly Hills
48 Portrait of Udo Einsild c. 1926, oil on canvas, 34'/2 x 20 5 /s" Mr. and Mrs. Herman Elkon, New York
49 Pastry Cook c. 1927, oil on canvas, 30% x 27%" Mr. and Mrs. Sidney F. Brody, Los Angeles
50 Choirboy c. 1927, oil on canvas, 24 1 /2 x 18" Mr. and Mrs. Michael Bennahum, New York
51 Hotel Boy c. 1927-28, oil on canvas, 28% x 36%" Mr. and Mrs. Lew R. Wasserman, Beverly Hills
52 Valet c. 1927-28, oil on canvas, 25 x 19V2" Nathan Cummings. Chicago
53 Portrait of Madeleine Castaing c. 1928, oil on canvas, 39% x 28%" Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
Bequest of Miss Adelaide Milton de Groot ( 1876-1967)
54 Portrait of Maria Lani c. 1929, oil on canvas, 28% x 23 1 /2" The Museum of Modern Art, New York
Mrs. Sam A. Lewisohn Bequest
55 Young Woman in Red c. 1930, oil on canvas, 31% x 23'/2" Mrs. Evelyn Sharp. New York
56 Still Life with Red Meat c. 1923-24, oil on canvas, 21% x 25%" Pierre Levy, Troyes, France
57 Calf and Red Curtain c. 1924, oil on canvas, 32 x 19" Lee Vandervelde, Los Angeles
58 FowlonTable c. 1924, oil on canvas, 25% x 31%" Dr. Lucien Kleman, Paris
59 5/(7/ Life c. 1 924, oil on canvas, 24 x 29V5 " M. Knoedler and Co., Inc., New York
60 Still Life with Turkey c. 1924, oil on canvas, 21 % x 31%" Pierre Levy, Troyes, France
61 Still Life with Fish, Eggs and Lemons c. 1 924, oil on canvas, 25% x 31% " Marlborough-Gerspn Gallery, Inc., New York
62 Still Life with Ray fish c. 1924, oil on canvas, 32x25%" The Cleveland Museum of Art. Gift of Hanna Fund
63 Still Life with Ray fish c. 1924, oil on canvas, 36 x 32" Dr. and Mrs..Paul Todd Makler, Philadelphia
64 Still Life with Ray fish c. 1 924, oil on canvas, 32x39%" Mrs. Oscar Miestchaninoff, New York
65 Carcass of Beef c. 1925, oil on canvas, 45 x 31" The Minneapolis Institute of Arts
66 Beef c. 1925, oil on canvas, 65% x 45 %" Stedelijk Museum. Amsterdam
67 Rabbit c. 1 925-26, oil on canvas, 28% x 1 8% " Perls Galleries, New York
68 Pheasant c. 1925-26, oil on canvas, 10% x 39%" Dr. Lucien Kleman, Paris
69 Pheasants c. 1926, oil on canvas, 21% x 14%" Galerie Andre Urban, Paris
70 Fowl c. 1926, oil on canvas, 38x28%" Private collection, New York
71 Hanging Turkey c. 1926, oil on canvas, 36 x28%" Richard S. Zeisler, New York
72 Small Town Square, Vence c. 1930, oil on canvas, 28 x 18*4" Art Institute of Chicago. Joseph Winterbotham Collection
73 Tree at Vence c. 1930, oil on canvas, 32x2454" Mrs. Lloyd Bruce Wescott, Rosemont, New Jersey
74 Waiting Maid c. 1933, oil on canvas, 18% x 16%" Mrs. Andrew Best, London
75 Servant Girl in Blue c. 1 934, oil on canvas, 20% x 20% " The Ritter Foundation, New York
76 Small Boy c. 1934, oil on canvas, 20% x 14%" Comdr. Sir Michael Culme-Seymour. Bt., Leicestershire, England
77 Sleeping Woman c. 1934, oil on canvas, 16 x 13" Mrs. and Mrs. John A. Beck, Houston
78 Portrait of a Young Woman c. 1935, oil on canvas, 20 x 18" Mrs. H. Harris Jonas, New York
79 Portrait of a Man c. 1935, oil on canvas, 22 x 13%" Dr. and Mrs. Harry Bakwin, New York
80 French Cook c. 1 936, oil on panel, 26x18" Mr. and Mrs. Rodney L. White, New York
81 Woman in Profile c. 1937, oil on canvas, 18% x 1 1" The Phillips Collection, Washington, D. C.
82 The Old House c. 1 934, oil on canvas, 1 8% x 24% " Mr. and Mrs. David Finkle, New York
83 Landscape c. 1936, oil on canvas, 23% x28%" Perls Galleries, New York
84 The Tree c. 1937, oil on canvas, 28 x 25" Alfred Hitchcock, Los Angeles
85 Windy Day, Auxerre c. 1939, oil on canvas, 19% x25%" The Phillips Collection, Washington. D.C.
86 Trees at Auxerre c. 1939, oil on canvas, 28% x 23%" Mr. and Mrs. Otto Edler, London
87 Return from School after the Storm c. 1939, oil on canvas, 17x 19%" The Phillips Collection, Washington, D. C.
88 Two Children on a Road c. 1 939, oil on canvas, 15% x 12% " Perls Galleries, New York
89 Girl at Fence c. 1942, oil on canvas, 33 x 25%" Nathan Cummings, Chicago
90 Woman with Umbrella c. 1942, oil on canvas, 20% x 13%" Edmond Safra, Geneva
1 Portrait of a Nurse c. 1916, oil on canvas, 25 Vi x 19'/i" Los Angeles County Museum of Art
2 Still Life with Lemons c. 1916, oil on canvas, 25% x 21 Vz" Mr. and Mrs. Irving Levick
3 Flowers and Fish c. 1917, oil on canvas. 25' i x 19 3 s " Perls Galleries
4 Spotted Vase c. 1917, oil on canvas, 2556 x 18" Andras Kalman
5 Self Portrait c. 191 S, oil on canvas. 21 ': x IS" Mr. and Mrs. Henrv Pearlman
6 Red Gladioli c. 1918. oil on canvas, 21 ] /2 x 18" Mrs. Barnett Malbin (The Lydia and Harry Lewis Winston Collection)
7 Red Carnations c. 1919, oil on canvas, 22 x 18%" Mr. and Mrs. S. J. Levin
8 Flowers and Fruit c. 1919, oil on canvas, 25x21" Mr. and Mrs. Henry David Epstein
10 Reclining Woman c. 1919, oil on canvas, 23'/i x 36%" Private collection
11 Landscape c. 1919, oil on canvas, 18 x 24" E. and A. Silberman Galleries
12 ViewofCeret c. 1919-20, oil on canvas, 21 Vi x 28 3 4" Nathan Cummings
9 Landscape with Figure c. 1 9 1 9, oil on canvas, 18 x 21 V4" Perls Galleries
16 Hill at Ceret c. 1921, oil on canvas, 2914 x 21 5 /e" Perls Galleries
13 Landscape at Ceret c. 1 920, oil on canvas, 31% x 24" Galerie Beyeler, Basel, Switzerland
15 Landscape at Ceret c. 1920-21, oil on canvas, 22 x 33" The Trustees of the Tate Gallery
14 Landscape at Ceret c. 1920-21, oil on canvas, 24 x 32" Dr. and Mrs. Howard D. Sirak
17 View ofCeret c. 1921, oil on canvas, 29'/s x 29Vi"
The Baltimore Museum of Art Presented in Memory of George Siemonn by his Wife, Mabel Garrison Siemonn
18 Red Roofs, Ceret c. 1921-22, oil on canvas, 32 x 25VS" Henry Pearlman Foundation
19 HillatCeret c. 1921-22, oil on canvas, 28 5 /s x 35 3 4" Perls Galleries
20 Landscape at Ceret c. 1922, oil on canvas, 3 \ 3 /s x 34 1 /s" Dr. and Mrs. Paul Todd Makler
21 Square at Ceret c. 1922, oil on canvas, 23 3 4 x 28 3 4 " Dr. and Mrs. Norman F. Laskey. Mt. Kisco
22 Landscape c. 1922-23, oil on canvas, 25 !4 x 15" Mrs. Cecil Blaffer Hudson.
23 Landscape with Cypresses c. 1922-23, oil on canvas, 25Vi x 33" Mr. and Mrs. Caleb M. Steinberg
27 Portrait of a Woman c. 1922. oil on canvas. 45 3 -i x 22 7 * " Mr. and Mrs. Gregor Piatigorsky
28 Little Pastrx Cook c. 1922. oil on canvas. 60 1 4 x 26" Portland Art Museum
24 The Student c. 1921. oil on canvas. 2S ? s x 23 3 -i " Mrs. Evelyn Sharp
15 Praying Man c. 1921, oil on canvas, 35 3 s x 2 1 ! 4 " Dr. and Mrs. Paul Todd Makler
29 Landscape with Flight of Stairs c. 1 922-23. oil on canvas. 32 x 2:>" Mrs. Margaret Sangster
26 Praying Man c. 1921. oil on canvas. 50', i x 25" Private collection
30 The Old Mill c. 1922-1923. oil on canvas, 26>s x 32?s" The Museum of Modern Art. Vladimir Horowitz and Bernard Davis Funds
31 Landscape at Cagnes c. 1923-24, oil on canvas, 25 1 2 x 3 1 3 4 " Dr. and Mrs. Howard D. Sirak
32 Landscape at Cagnes c. 1923-24, oil on canvas, 21 Vi x 25 3 A" Mrs. Sybil H. Perry
34 Self Portrait c. 1922-23, oil on canvas, 31 Vs x 24% " Musee d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris
33 FarmGirl c. 1922-23, oil on canvas, 3P/2 x I7V4" Dr. and Mrs. Harry Bakwin
36 Boy in Blue c. 1924, oil on canvas, 36V'2 x 29" Mr. and Mrs. Henry F. Fischbach
35 Pastry Cook c. 1923. oil on canvas. 25 1 2 x 19" Joseph H. Hazen
38 Woman on Blue Ground c. 1924-25. oil on canvas. 24 ? s x \9 ? i" Musee cTArt Moderne de La Ville de Paris
37 Portrait of a Man c. 1 924, oil on canvas, 36 x 28" Mr. and Mrs. Gregor Piatigorsky
39 Woman in Pink c. 1 924-25, oil on canvas, 28V4 x 2 1 \\ " Mr. and Mrs. S. J. Levin
41 Woman in Red c. 1924-25, oil on canvas. 25 x 21" Dr. and Mrs. Harry Bakwin
42 Portrait of a Woman c. 1 924-25, oil on canvas, 32 x 22" Mr. and Mrs. Donald S. Stralem
43 Woman in Blue Dress c. 1924-25, oil on canvas, 31% x23-V 8 " Musee d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris
40 Woman Knitting c. 1924-25, oil on canvas, 25Vi x 32" J. Spreiregen
44 Girl in Pink c. 1924-25. oil on canvas. 29 x 21 1 h " Miss Carol Campbell Owen
45 Girl in Pink c. 1924-25, oil on canvas, 34!/i x 25" Joseph H. Hazen
47 Woman with Green Necklace c. 1926. oil on canvas. 35' i x31%" Mr. and Mrs. Sydney R. Barlow
50 Choirboy c. 1927. oil on canvas, 24V4 x 18" Mr. and Mrs. Michael Bennahum
46 The Communicant c. 1924-25, oil on canvas, 32 x 18 3 /4" Edward G. Robinson
48 Portrait of UdoEinsild c. 1926, oil on canvas, 34'/2 x 20%" Mr. and Mrs. Herman Elkon
51 Hotel Boy c. 1927-28, oil on canvas. 2SVa x 36% " Mr. and Mrs. Lew R. Wasserman
49 Pastry Cook c. 1927, oil on canvas, 30Vs x 27!4" Mr. and Mrs. Sidney F. Brody
52 Valet c. 1927-28. oil on canvas. 25 x 19 1 2 " Nathan Cumminss
53 Portrait of Madeleine Castaing c. 1928, oil on canvas. 39 3 s x28 7 s" Metropolitan Museum, Miss Adelaide Milton de Groot Bequest
54 Portrait of Maria Lani c. 1929. oil on canvas, 28% x 23 Vi" The Museum of Modern Art, Mrs. Sam A. Lewisohn Bequest
55 Young Woman in Red c. 1930, oil on canvas, 31 Vs x 23 Vi" Mrs. Evelyn Sharp
56 Still Life with Red Meat c. 1923-24, oil on canvas, 21 V* x 25 5 s" PierreLevy
57 Calf and Red Curtain c. 1 924, oil on canvas, 32 x 19" Lee Vandervelde
58 Fowl on Table c. 1924, oil on canvas, 25 5 /s x 31%" Dr. Lucien Kleman
59 Still Life c. 1924, oil on canvas, 24 x 29Vi" M. Knoedler and Co., Inc.
60 Still Life with Turkey c. 1924. oil on canvas. 21V4 x 317s" Pierre Levy
61 Still Life with Fish, Eggs and Lemons c. 1924, oil on canvas, 25Vi x 31%" Marlborough-Gerson Gallery, Inc.
62 Siill Life with Ray fish c. 1924. oil on canvas. 32 x '.
The Cleveland Museum of Art. Gift of Hanna Fund
63 Still Life with Ray fish c. 1924, oil on canvas, 36 x 32" Dr. and Mrs. Paul Todd Makler
64 Still Life with Ray fish c. 1924, oil on canvas, 32 x'39',i" Mrs. Oscar Miestchaninoff
65 Carcass of Beef c. 1925, oil on canvas, 45 x 3 1" The Minneapolis Institute of Arts
67 Rabbit c. 1925-26, oil on canvas. 28>/2 x 18 7 s" Perls Galleries
66 Beef c. 1925, oil on canvas, 65 3 /s x 45 !4" Stedelijk Museum
68 Pheasant c. 1925-26, oil on canvas, 10 5 s x 39 3 /s" Dr. Lucien Kleman
69 Pheasants c. 1926, oil on canvas, 21% x 14'/s" Galerie Andre Urban
70 Fowl c. 1926. oil on canvas. 3S x 28 1 2" Private collection
71 Hanging Turkey c. 1926, oil on canvas, 36 x 28 1 . i" Richard S. Zeisler
72 Small Town Square, Vence c. 1930, oil on canvas, 28 x 18V4" Art Institute of Chicago, Joseph Winterbotham Collection
73 Tree at Vence c. 1930, oil on canvas, 32 x 24 1 4" Mrs. Lloyd Bruce Wescott
74 Wailing Maid c. 1933. oil on canvas, 18% x 16Vs" Mrs. Andrew Best
75 Servant Girl in Blue c. 1934, oil on canvas, 20\a x 20 5 s" The Ritter Foundation
76 Small Boy c. 1934, oil on canvas, 20'i x 14 3 4" Comdr. Sir Michael Culme-Seymour. Bt.
78 Portrait of a Young Woman c. 1935, oil on canvas, 20 x 18" Mrs. H. Harris Jonas
77 Sleeping Woman c. 1 934, oil on canvas, 1 6 x 13" Mrs. and Mrs. John A. Beck
80 French Cook c. 1936, oil on panel, 26 x 18" Mr. and Mrs. Rodney L. White
79 Portrait of a Man c. 1935, oil on canvas, 22 x OVi" Dr. and Mrs. Harry Bakwin
81 Woman in Profile c. 1937, oil on canvas, 18Vi x 11" The Phillips Collection
35 Windy Day, Auxerre c. 1939, oil on canvas, 19'/2 x 25? s" The Phillips Collection
86 Trees at Auxerre c. 1939, oil on canvas, 28% x 2314 " Mr. and Mrs. Otto Edler
82 The Old House c. 1934, oil on canvas, 18V4 x 24'.4" Mr. and Mrs. David Finkle
'*■- . .-^*g&<*-' a -* s 7- .'
84 The Tree c. 1937, oil on canvas, 28 x 25" Alfred Hitchcock
83 Landscape c. 1936, oil on canvas, 23'.j x 2SI-4" Perls Galleries
87 Return from School after the Storm c. 1939, oil on canvas, 17 x 19'/4" The Phillips Collection
Two Children on a Road c. 1939, oil on canvas, 15% x MVi" Perls Galleries
89 GirlatFence c. 1942, oil on canvas, 33 x 25',-S" Nathan Cumminss
90 Woman with Umbrella c. 1942, oil on canvas, 207s x 13M" Edmond Safra
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/ have no recollection of my first encounter witli Soutine's work. I must
have known about Soutine by the early thirties. I recall an exhibition of
French moderns in the Museum of Modem Art where I saw for the
first time Soutine's "Beef." I thought then (I don't recall the year) that
it was the best and most powerful painting in the exhibition. It made
everything else look too decorative.
In the thirties Soutine was popular with and influenced a number
of social realist painters — among them Jack Levine. The advanced
painters that I met on the WPA project leaned mostly towards
Cubism, Constructivism and Surrealism. Mondrian was beginning to
be a great influence.
In the late forties the rise of abstract expressionism with some roots
in surrealism and in Freud was a rebellion against Cubism.
Constructivism, geometric painting and social realism — the European
schools. The trend towards abstraction removed it too far from
Soutine whose work was grounded in direct observation of nature.
The Abstract Expressionists' belief in spontaneity and in an actively
articulated surface disposed the painters of that movement towards
an appreciation of Soutine. But Soutine, essentially tradition based, was
crowded out of modern art history by anti-traditionalist art movements.
So that no matter how big his personal stature was, his influence
on other painters was not too significant. I personally know of no
abstract expressionist painters whose work showed a Soutine influence.
The exception may be De Kooning whose interest in Soutine may
have had some influence on his "Woman" series — but this is a
speculation that I cannot base on anything factual.
I myself was intensely moved by Soutine and still am. But my
commitment towards abstraction, the trend away from working from
nature, left little room for a Soutine influence.
On the whole, my judgment is that Abstract Expressionism influenced
a deeper appreciation of Soutine but that his influence was sidestepped by
the urge towards abstraction.
BOOKS AND ARTICLES
Guillaume, Paul. "Soutine," Arts a Paris
(Paris) . no. 7, January, pp. 5-6.
Barnes, Albert C. "Soutine," Arts a Paris
(Paris), no. 10, November, pp. 6-8.
Barnes. Albert C. The Art in Painting,
New York, Harcourt. Brace, pp. 1 15, 283, 305,
307, 326-330, 3 illus.
George, Waldemar. "Soutine," A mour de I'Art
(Paris), vol. 7. no. 1 1, Nov.. pp. 367-370, illus.
George. Waldemar. Artistes Juifs: Soutine. Paris
Editions "Le Triangle." 16 pages of text. 16 plates.
Faure, Elie. Soutine. Paris. Editions Cres.
12 pages of text, 32 illus. [Reprinted 1934 with
additions: Ombres solides, Paris, Societe
francaise d'editions Iitteraires et techniques.]
Drieu la Rochelle. Pierre. "Soutine." Formes
(Paris), no. 5, May. pp. 4-5.
Sachs, Maurice. "Soutine," Creative Art,
vol. 1 1, no. 4. December, pp. 272-278.
George. Waldemar. "Soutine et la violence
diamatique," Amour de VArt (Paris), vol. 14.
pp. 150-152. [Reprinted in Rene Huyghe,
Histoire de Vart Contemporain. la peinture.
Paris. Alcan, 1935, pp. 150-152 et passim.
Biographic and bibliographic notes p. 152.]
Georges — Michel. Michel. Peintres et sculp-
teurs j'ai connus, 1900-1942. New York,
Brentano's, pp. 180-190.
Sachs. Maurice. "Contres les peintures
d'aujourd'hui," La Nouvelle Revue Francaise
(Paris), vol. 43, July,pp.28-42;Soutine,pp. 39-40.
Collie, Andree. "Souvenirs sur Soutine,"
Le Spectateur des Arts. (Paris), no. 1,
December, pp. 14-18.
Serouya. Henri. "Soutine," Les Letlres
Francoises (Paris) . December 2.
Cogniat, Raymond. Soutine. Paris. Editions
du Chene. 1 1 pages of text, 45 plates.
Tworkov, Jack. "The Wandering Soutine,"
Art News. vol. 47, no. 7, part I, November,
pp. 30-33, 62, illus. pp. 30-33.
Hess. Thomas B. Abstract Painting, New York.
Viking, pp. 69-70, ill.
1 7 Lipchitz, Jacques and Dorothy Gees Seckler.
"I Remember Modigliani," Art News, vol. 49,
no. 10, February, pp. 26-29, 64-65.
1 S Orloff . Chana. "Mon ami Soutine," Preuves
(Paris), November, pp. 17-21. [Reprinted in
abridged English translation. Jewish Chronicle
(London), November 1, 1963.]
1952 19 Cogniat, Raymond. Soutine. Geneva. Paris,
New York, Skira. 2 pages of text; biographical
and bibliographical information: 6 plates.
20 Werner. Alfred. "Chaim Soutine: Self-Liberation
Through Art," Chicago Jewish Forum, vol. 10, no. 3,
Spring, pp. 176-184, illus. pp. 177, 179, 181.
1953 21 Greenberg. Clement. "Books in Review: Two
of the Moderns." Commentary, vol. 16, no. 4,
October, pp. 386-389. [Review of bibl. 19.]
1954 22 Lassaigne, Jacques. Soutine. Paris, Hazan.
7 pages of text, 20 plates.
1955 23 Szittya. Emile. Soutine et son temps, Paris.
La Bibliotheque des Arts. 125 pages including
19 illustrations, chronology and bibliography.
1956 24 Fels, Florent. "Haim Soutine," L'ArtVivantdel900
a nos jours: 1914-1950. vol. II. Geneva, Cailler.
25 "Garde, Mile." (GerdaGroth). "Mes annees
chez Soutine (propos recueilles par M. Ragon),"
L'Oeil ( Paris) . January. [Reprinted in English
translation, TheSelectiveEye. Lausanne. Bernier;
New York, Reynal, 1956' 1957, pp. 142-146.]
1957 26 D'Ancona. Paolo. Some A spects of Expression-
ism: Modigliani. Chagall, Soutine. Pascin.
Milan. Edizioni del Milione. pp. 5 1-67. 9 plates.
George, Waldemar. Soutine. Paris, Art et Style.
7 pages of text. 3 1 plates.
Courthion. Pierre. Soutine. [Unpublished
manuscript translated into English by
Mrs. Eleanor Levieux.]
Serouya. Henri. Soutine. [Unpublished
manuscript in French.]
Greenberg, Clement. Art and Culture. Boston,
Beacon Press, pp. 115-119.
Sperber. Manes. "Sur l'art juif." L'Arche
( Paris) , August-September.
Castaing, Marcellin and Jean Leymarie.
Soutine. Paris and Lausanne, La Bibliotheque
des Arts. 33 pages of text; 45 plates. [English
translation. New York. Abrams, 1963.]
33 Sylvester. David. "Soutine," The Sunday Times
Colour Magazine ( London) . September 15,
pp. 3-9. illus. pp. 3-9.
1964 34 Tuchman. Maurice. "Portraits de Soutine,"/* rt de
France (Paris), vol. IV, pp. 206-217, illus. pp. 207-2 1 7.
1966 35 Forge, Andrew. Soutine, London. Spring Books.
38 pages of text and illustrations; 48 plates.
[Selection of paintings drawn from Arts
Council of Great Britain catalog; see bibl. 119.]
36 Gimpel. Rene. Diary of an Art Dealer,
New York, Farrar. Strauss and Giroux, pp. 362,
365, 372, 376, 377, 378-379, 381.
37 Negri, Renata. Soutine, Milan, Fratelli Fabri.
5 pages of text and illustrations; 15 color plates.
EXHIBITIONS. CATALOGS, REVIEWS
1927 Paris, Galerie Bing.
3S Review: Charensol, Georges. "Soutine."
Art Vivant (Paris), vol. 3, 1927, p. 547.
1 930 Paris, Theatre Pigalle. May. [Group exhibition
sponsored by Art Vivant.] 4 works.
39 Review: Gauthier. Maxmilien. "Notices
Bio-bibliographiques: Soutine," Art Vivant (Paris),
vol. 6, no. 30. May 15,1 930. pp. 417. 43 1 . ill. p. 422.
1935 40 Chicago, Arts Club. December. 20 works.
Catalog with text by Edouard-Joseph, translated
1936 41 New York. Valentine Gallery. February.
2 1 works. Catalog.
42 Reviews: Sayre, Ann Hamilton. "Soutine of
the Ecole de Paris in His First New York
Exhibit," Art News, vol. 34, no. 19, February 8,
1936. pp. 5. 7, illus. p. 7.
43 "Tortured Forms." Art Digest, vol. 10, no. 10,
February 15. 1936, p. 12.
1936 New York, Mrs. Cornelius J. Sullivan Gallery.
February-March. 14 works.
44 Review: Sayre, Ann Hamilton. "New Exhibi-
tions of the Week: The Early and Mature Work
of Chaim Soutine," Art News, vol. 34, no. 23,
March 7. 1936. p. 10.
1937 New York. Mrs. Cornelius J. Sullivan Gallery.
March-April. 1 5 works.
45 Reviews: Breuning. Margaret. "Current Exhibitions:
Notes," Parnassus, vol. 9, no. 4. April 1937, p. 44.
46 DIavidson], M[artha]. "New Exhibitions of the
Week: The Growth of Soutine's Magnificent
Talent," Art News. vol. 35. no. 28, April 10,
1937. pp. 14-15.
1937 47 London. The Leicester Galleries. April.
33 Works. Catalog with text by Maurice Sachs,
reprinted from bibl. 6.
48 Review: Apollo, vol. 25, May 1937, p. 297.
New York. Valentine Gallery. May.
49 Reviews: Bird, Paul. "A Soutine Boom?," Art
Digest, vol. ll.no. 16. May 15. 1937, p. 20, ill. p. 20.
50 Breuning, Margaret. "Seeing the Shows :
Soutine," Magazine of Art, vol. 30, no. 6,
June 1937, pp. 388-389.
5 1 D[avidson], M[artha]. "New Exhibitions of
the Week: Soutine in His Most Important
American Show," Art News, vol. 35, no. 32,
May 8, 1937, p. 15, ill. p. 15.
52 '"Eliptic Emotions,'" Art Digest, vol. 11, no. 17,
June 1937, p. 22.
1937 53 Paris. Petit Palais. "Les Maitres de l'art
Independant, 1895-1937." June-October.
1 2 works. Catalog with text by Albert Sarraut.
1938 London. Storran Gallery. November. 12 works.
1939 New York, Valentine Gallery. March-April.
54 Reviews: Brian, Doris. "Soutine Turns to
Classicism: His Recent and Earlier Manner
Contrasted in a New Show," Art News, vol. 37,
no. 25, March 1 S. 1 939, p. 7. illus. p. 7.
55 "Some Call it Classic," Art Digest, vol. 13,
no. 13. April 1, 1939, p. 17, ill. p. 17.
56 Sweeney. James Johnson. "Exhibitions in
New York: Twenty-three Paintings by Soutine."
Parnassus, vol. 1 1. no. 4. April 1939, pp. 21-22.
57 "Van Gogh of Our Time." Newsweek, March 27,
1939, p. 27.
1940 5S New York. Carroll Carstairs Gallery.
April-May. 12 works. Catalog with text by
59 Reviews: Lowe. Jeannett. "The New and the
Old Soutine: Cross-Section of the Emotional
Painter." Art News, vol. 38. no. 29, April 20,
1940. pp. 11. 21, illus. p. 11.
60 "New York Sees Soutine. Tragic Lithuanian." A rt
Digest, vol. 14. no. 14. April 15. 1940. p. 9. ill. p. 9.
61 McCausland. Elizabeth. "Exhibitions in New
York: Three Frenchmen: Rouault. Soutine,
Derain," Parnassus, vol. 12, no. 5, May 1940. p. 40.
1943 62 Washington. D.C.. Phillips Memorial Gallery.
January-February. 23 works. Catalog with
text by Duncan Phillips.
1 943 63 New York, Bignou Gallery. March-April.
18 works. Catalog with text by Albert C. Barnes.
Reviews: "The Passing Shows: Chaim Soutine,"
Art News, vol. 42, no. 4. Apr. 1 . 1943. p. 23, ill. p. 23.
R[iley], M[aude]. "Placing Soutine," Art Digest,
vol. 17.no. 13. April 1. 1943, p. 17,31. p. 17.
New York, Niveau Gallery. October. 13 works.
Catalog with text by Michel Georges-Michel.
Reviews: Breuning. Margaret. "Soutine
Memorial," Art Digest, vol. 19, no. 2,
October 15, 1944, p. 15.
F[rost]. R[osamund]. "In Memoriam: Soutine
Over 20 Years," Art News, vol. 43, no. 13,
October 15, 1944, p. 14. ill. p. 14.
Paris. Salon d'Automne. [For comment, see bibl. 12.]
Paris, Galerie de France, "Retrospective
Soutine, 1894-1943." January. 40 works.
Catalog with text by Louis Parrot.
Review: Arts (Paris), no. 1, January 31, 1945, p. 1.
7 1 Boston. Institute of Modern Art. "Chagall and
Soutine." January-February. 23 works.
Catalog: Art Panorama, An Illustrated Catalog,
Boston. 1945, pp. 13-16, ill. p. 15.
1947 72 London, Gimpelfils, "Soutine: 1895-1943."
April-May. 1 8 works. Catalog with text by
1947 Paris. Galerie Zak. Nov.-Dec. 19 works.
73 Reviews: Arts (Paris), no. 143, Dec. 5, 1947, p. 2.
74 Boers, Frans. "Kroniek: Soutine." Kroniek
van Knnsr en Kultuur (Amsterdam), vol. 9,
no. 2. February 1948, p. 64.
75 Z[ahar], M[arcel]. "Soutine," Panorama des
Arts. 1947. Paris, Aimery Somogy. 194S,
pp. 239-241. ill. p. 240.
1949 76 New York. Yan-Diemen-Lilienfeld Galleries,
"Soutine and Utrillo." January. 7 works. Catalog.
77 Review: S[harp], M[arynell]. "Soutine and Utrillo."
Art Digest, sol 23.no. S.Jan. 15, 1949, p. 14, ill. p. 14.
1 950 Paris, Galerie Bernier. "Presence dans la
Nature." ( With Loutreuil. Marquet. Vuillard,
Desnoyer and Gruber.)
1950- 78 New York. Museum of Modern Art and
1 95 1 Cleveland Museum of Art. November 1 950-
March 1951. 75 works. Book-catalog with text
by Monroe Wheeler; 1 1 6 pages including
77 illustrations: chronology by Jean-Pierre
Brasseur: bibliography by Hanna B. Muller.
79 Reviews: Adlow. Dorothy. "Two New Shows,"
Christian Science Monitor Magazine,
November 11, 1959. p. 8. ill. p. S.
SO "Art: Hot and Heavy." Time. vol. 56, no. 20,
November 13. 1950. p. 44. illus. p. 44.
81 Breuning, Margaret. "The Cataclysmic World
of Chaim Soutine." Art Digest, vol. 25, no. 4,
November 15. 1950. p. 11. illus. p. 11.
S2 Burrows. Carlyle. "Soutine on Exhibit at
Museum of Modern Art," New York Herald
Tribune. November 1, 1950.
83 Francis, Henry S. "Important Exhibitions,
January and February, 1951," The Bulletin of
the Cleveland Museum of Art. vol. 38, no. 1,
84 Greenberg. Clement. "Art Chronicle: Chaim
Soutine." Partisan Review, vol. 1 8, no. 1,
January-February 1951. pp. 82-S7.
85 H[ess]. T[homas] B. "The Coming Season :
Pioneers of the Avant-Garde." Art News.
vol. 49. no. 6. Oct. 1950. pp. 13.57. ill. p. 13.
1951 86 London, Royal Academy of Arts, "L'Ecole de
Paris." 4 works. Catalog with text by Jean Cassou.
1951 San Francisco, California Palace of the Legion
of Honor, "Miro and Soutine." December.
Review: Ballard. Louise. "Art," Arts and
A rchitecture. vol. 6S. no. 11. Dec. 1 95 1 , p. 11.
Venice. XXVI Venice Biennal Exhibition. 35 works.
Catalog with text by Jean Leymarie, pp. 178-183.
Reviews: Arcangeli, Francesco. "Corote
Soutine a Venezia," Paragone.no. 33. 1952, pp. 5S-64.
Guzzi.Virgilio. "The XXYIth Biennal
Exhibition at Venice," East and West. vol. 3, no. 3.
Oct. 1952. pp. 179-188, ill. p. 182 (Soutine p. 184).
Veronesi. Guilia. "Chaim Soutine," Emporium.
vol. 116. 1952. pp. 48-52.
Zervos. Christian. "Coup d'oeil sur la XXVI e
Biennale de Venice," Cahiersd'Art. vol. 27, pan 2.
1 952, pp. 273-2S7 (Soutine pp. 278, 2S0-281).
Paris. Galerie Andre Weil. September. [Exhibition
sponsored by the Societe des Amis de Soutine.]
Review: Serullaz. Maurice. "D'une exposition
a ['autre: Soutine." France Illustration, no. 402,
September 1953, p. 68. illus. pp. 68, 69.
London. Redfern Gallery. "Russian Emigre
Artists in Paris." November. 4 works. Catalog
with text by Alexander Watt.
New York. Perls Galleries. November-
December. 2 1 works. Catalog.
Reviews: Coates. Robert M. "The Art Galleries:
Soutine and Modigliani." New Yorker, vol. 29,
no. 40. Nov. 21. 1953. pp. 105-106. 10S. 110.
G[uest], B[arbara]. "Reviews and Previews:
Chaim Soutine." Art News. vol. 52, no. 8,
December 1953. p. 42. ill. p. 42.
Werner. Alfred. "New York: Soutine: Affinity
for an Alien World," Art Digest, vol. 28, no. 4,
November 15. 1953, pp. 17-18, ill. p. 17.
New York. Perls Galleries, "The William
March Collection of Modern French Masters."
October-November. 9 works. Cataloa.
1956 100 Paris, Maison de la Pensee Franchise,
"Soutine. 1894-1943." March-April. 26 works.
Catalog with text by Elie Faure.
101 Reviews: "Painters of Rage and Storm." Time,
vol. 67. no. 2 1 , May 2 1 , 1956, p. 92, ill. p. 93.
102 Schneider. Pierre. "Art News from Paris:
Soutine, Barye," Art News. vol. 55, no. 3,
May 1956. p. 16.
1956 103 Chicago. Arts Club. October. 16 works. Catalog.
104 Review: Speyer. James A. "Art News from
Chicago," Art News, vol. 55, no. S,
December 1956, p. 49.
1958 105 New York, HirschI and Adler Galleries, Inc.,
"Soutine and His Circle in Paris." June.
7 works. Cataloa with text bv Arbit Blatas.
106 Reviews: Hoffmann, Edith. "Current and
Forthcoming Exhibitions: New York,"
The Burlington Magazine, vol. 100, no. 665,
August 1958, p. 296.
107 P[orter], F[airfield]. "Reviews and Previews:
Soutine and His Circle in Paris," Art News,
vol. 57, no. 4, Summer 1 95S, p. 1 6.
1959 108 Paris, Galerie Charpentier, "Cent Tableaux
de Soutine." Fall. 1 19 works. Catalog with
text by Waldemar George and M. Castaing.
109 Reviews: Berger. Rene. "L'Ete a Paris,"
XX'Siecle. vol. 21, no. 13, December 1959
(supplement), p. 50, ill. p. 51.
1 10 Mock, Jean Yves. "Notes from Paris and
London: Soutine at the Galerie Charpentier,"
Apollo, vol. 70, no. 415, September 1959,
p. 60. ill. p. 60.
1 1 1 Schneider, Pierre. "Art News from Paris:
Russian Expressionists." Art News. vol. 58,
no. 6, September 1959. p. 47.
1 1 2 Sylvester. David. "Soutine Reconsidered in
Paris Exhibition," The New York Times,
September 6, 1959.
1 13 Watt, Alexander. "Paris Commentary,"
Studio, vol. 158, no. 799, November 1959,
pp. 123- 124. ill. p. 122.
1959 114 Manchester. Crane Gallery, "Soutine and
His Circle." December. 1 work. Catalog.
1959 115 New York, Knoedler Gallery, "Paintings,
Watercolors and Sculpture from the Collection
of Mr. and Mrs. Henry Pearlman." January-
February. 6 works. Catalog.
1960 116 London, Crane Kalman Gallery, "Soutine and
His Circle." March-April. 4 works. Catalog.
1 17 Reviews: Duerden, Dennis. "Soutine and
His Circle," Art News and Review, vol. 12,
no. 7, April 27-May 3, 1960.
1 IS Shipp. Horace. "Current Shows and
Comments: The Dark is Light Enough,"
Apollo, vol. 7 1, no. 422, April 1960, p. 92
1960 119 New York. Knoedler Gallery, "The Colin
Collection: Paintings, Watercolors, Drawings
and Sculpture." April-May. 16 works. Catalog.
1963 120 London, Tate Gallery and Edinburgh Arts
Festival. August-November 1963. 57 works.
Retrospective organized by the Arts Council
of Great Britain, directed by David Sylvester.
Catalog with essay by David Sylvester and
catalog notes by Maurice Tuchman: 28 pages
including 32 illustrations. [Essay reprinted in
abridged form : "Soutine, The Impact of
Infighting," Art News. vol. 62, no. 6, October
1 963, pp. 22-27, 48-52, illus. pp. 22-27.]
Reviews: Amaya, Mario. "Modigliani —
Soutine," Financial Times (London) ,
October 1, 1963.
Baro, Gene. "International Reports: Abun-
dance and Synthesis," Arts, vol. 38, no. 3,
December 1963, pp. 41-42, ill. p. 41.
Brett, Guy. "Modigliani and Soutine at the
Tate," Manchester Guardian, October 1, 1963.
Burn, Guy. "Soutine and Modigliani,"
Arts Review (London), October 5, 1963, p. 3.
Dickson, Elder T. "International and Scottish
Painting at the Edinburgh Festival,"
Studio International, vol. 166, no. 847,
November 1963, pp. 204-205, ill. p. 203.
126 Forge, Andrew. "Discovery," New Statesman,
October 4, 1963, p. 456.
127 Hall. Douglas. "The Stature of Soutine,"
Apollo, vol. 7S, no. 20 (new series), October
1963, p. 310, ill. p. 311.
128 Irwin, David. "Current and Forthcoming
Exhibitions: Edinburgh," The Burlington
Magazine, vol. 105, no. 727, October 1963,
pp. 462, 465, illus, p. 464.
129 Melville, Robert. "Retrospective at the Tate,"
Architectural Review, vol. 134, November
1963, p. 360.
1 30 "Modigliani and Soutine —Two Painters of the
20th Century," Illustrated London News,
September 14, 1963, p. 389, illus.
1 3 1 Russell, John. "The World of Art : Outcast
among the Great," The Sunday Times
(London), August 18.
1 32 Smith. Sydney Goodsir. "Works by
Contrasting Masters," The Scotsman
(Edinburgh), August 19, 1963.
133 Stone, Peter. "Pictures from an Exhibition:
Modigliani and Soutine at the Tate," Jewish
Chronicle (London), Oct. 4, 1963, p. 7, ill. p. 7.
1963 134 London, Crane Kalman Gallery, "Soutine-
Modigliani et Leur Temps." October. 1 work.
1964 135 New York, The Solomon R. Guggenheim
Museum, "Van Gogh and Expressionism."
July-September. 5 works. Catalog with
text by Maurice Tuchman.
1966 136 Paris, Orangerie des Tuileries, "Collection
Jean Walter-Paul Guillaume." 22 works.
Catalog with text by Michele Bundorf and
137 Review: de Forges, M. T. and G. Allemand.
"Orangerie des Tuileries: La Collection
Jean Walter-Paul Guillaume," Revue du
Louvre, vol. 16, no. 1, 1966, p. 64.
1927 138 Raynal, Maurice.
Anthologie de la peinture
en France de 1906 a nos jours,
Paris, Editions Montaigne, pp. 287-290.
[English translation, Modern French Painters,
New York, Brentano's, 1928, pp. 137-152.]
1930 139 Drieu la Rochelle, Pierre. "Soutine."
Formes (Paris), no. 5, May, pp. 4-5.
1931 140 Bazin, Germain. "Un Nouveau Fauvism:
Aujame," Amour de Van (Paris), vol. 12,
1934 141 Edouard-Joseph.
des artistes Contemporains, 1910-30, Paris,
Librarie Grand, pp. 310-311.
1937 142 Escholier, Raymond.
La peinture francaise XX e Siecle,
Paris, Floury, pp. 136, 138.
1940 143 Wilenski, Reginald H. Modern French
Painters, New York, Reynal & Hitchcock,
1941 144 Douglas, Charles. Artist Quarter:
Reminiscences of Montmartre and
Monlparnasse, London, Faber & Faber,
pp. 3 1 6-320 et passim.
1942 145 Wheeler, Monroe,
20th Century Portraits,
New York, Museum of Modern Art, pp. 16,
89, ill. p. 89. [Exhibition catalog.]
1944 146 Carco, Francis. L'Ami des Peintres, Geneva,
Editions du Milieu du Monde, pp. 46-47.
147 "Sifriat Poalim," Worker's Book Guild.
Amedeo Modigliani, Jules Pascin, Chaim
8 pages of text in Hebrew, illus.
1945 148 Delmas, Gladys.
"French Art During the Occupation:
Soutine," Magazine of Art,
vol. 38, no. 3, March, pp. 87-88.
149 Georges-Michel, Michel. Chefs-d'oeuvre
de peintres contemporains. New York,
Editions de la Maison franchise, pp. 201, 203.
150 San Lazzaro, G. di. "Ricorde di Soutine,"
Tre Arti (Milan), vol. 1, no. l,p. 8, illus. p. 8.
1947 151 Lassaigne, Jacques. Cent chefs-d'oeuvre des
peintres de I'Ecole de Paris, Paris,
Editions de la Galerie Charpentier,
pp. 104-106, 119-121, 200-201, illus.
Text in French and English.
152 Raynal, Maurice. Peintres du XX e Siecle,
Geneva, Skira, pp. 26-27, illus.
153 Venturi, Lionello. Pittura Contemporanea.
Milan, U. Hoepli, p. 23.
1 948 1 54 Soby, James Thrall. "Two Painters of
Tragedy: Rouault and Soutine," in
Contemporary Painters, New York,
Museum of Modern Art, pp. 12-18.
1950 155 History of Modern Painting: Matisse, Munch,
Rouault, Fauvism, Expressionism, Geneva,
Skira, pp. 122-129, 145-146.
1951 156 Georges-Michel, Michel. "Chaim Soutine,"
Biennale di Venezia, no. 4, April, pp. 7-9,
illus. pp. 7-9.
1 57 Lassaigne, Jacques. "Presence de Soutine,"
Revue de la Pensee Francaise (Paris),
vol. 10, no. 12. December,
pp. 41-44, illus. pp. 42-43.
158 "A Study of Soutine," The Times Literary
Supplement (London), no. 2, 570, May 4,
1 952 159 Morris, Wright. "The Violent Land, Some
Observations on the Faulkner Country,"
Magazine of Art, vol. 45, no. 3, March,
pp. 99-103, ill. p. 99.
1 60 Michonze, Gregoire. Les Lettres Francoises
(Paris), July 23-26.
161 Sachs, Maurice. Tableau des moeurs de ce
162 Dorival, Bernard. Les Etapesde la peinture
francaise contemporaine, vol. 3, Paris, Gallimard,
Gallimard, pp. 187-193, 197, 199,200-205,
pp. 187-193, 197, 199,200-205,207-208.
1958 163 Heron, Patrick. The Changing Forms of Art,
New York, Noonday, pp. 146-148.
1959 164 de Mazia, Violette.
"Continuity of Traditions in Painting,"
Art and Education, New Jersey,
The Barnes Foundation Press, pp. 1 03- 1 1 6.
165 Diwo, Jean. "Soutine le dernier maudit," Paris
Match, no. 539, Aug. 8, pp. 63-69, illus. pp. 63-69.
166 Geraldy, P. "Chaim Soutine ou l'enfant
manque," Le Figaro (Paris), August.
1 67 Revol, J. "Soutine, Matiere Suppliciee,"
La N olivette Revue Frangaise (Paris), August.
168 Sterling, Charles. Still-life from Antiquity
to the Present, New York, Universe Books,
pp. 53,97, 115-1 17, ill. p. 103.
169 Talphir, Gabriel. "Chaim Soutine
( 1 894- 1 943 ) ," Cazith, A rt and Literary
Journal (Tel Aviv), vol. 17, no. 195-196,
August-September, pp. 1-3.
1 960 1 70 Chapiro, Jacques. La Ruche, Paris, Flammarion,
pp. 37-44, 50, 85-88, 101, 1 10, 127-128, 134, 147.
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