Art Eyewitness Review: Firing the Imagination: Japanese Influence on French Ceramics, 1860-1910 at the Philadelphia Museum of Art

 

Firing the Imagination:
Japanese Influence on French Ceramics, 1860-1910

Philadelphia Museum of Art

 August 31, 2024-August 17, 2015

Reviewed by Ed Voves

Original Photography by Anne Lloyd

Firing the Imagination is an intriguing exhibition which surveys the influence of Japanese artistic conventions on French ceramics during the age of Impressionism. Currently on view in the Colket Gallery of the Philadelphia Museum of Art (PMA), the exhibit provides new insights on the impact of Japonisme on decorative arts and craft, rather than exclusively on Impressionist painting.

The Colket Gallery, I recently discovered, is named for Tristram Colket, a  grandson of John Dorrance, the Campbell's Soup Company founder. Mr. Colket, who died in 2020, was a generous supporter of numerous worthy causes. But he was quiet, low-keyed benefactor, whose name did not often figure in newspaper headlines or advertisements. 

By a curious twist of circumstance, a similar lack of name recognition applies to the ceramic artists whose exquisite works are displayed in Firing the Imagination.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

Art works from the Firing the Imagination exhibit.

 At left, is a vase made by Théodore Deck & decorated by Marie-Caroline-Eléonore Escallier, c. 1870; at right, is a vase by Auguste Jean, 1885

Claude Monet, Edgar Degas and Paul Cezanne need no introduction. The same does not hold true for the remarkably long list of "potters" whose plates, vases, bowels and jardinieres grace the walls and display cases of the Colket Gallery. 

Edmund Lachenal, Ernest Chaplet, Joseph-Théodore Deck, Albert-Louis Dammouse - do these names sound familiar? Until I began visiting Firing the Imagination, I am chagrined to admit that I had not heard of a single one of these masters of art pottery.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

A selection of ceramic plates decorated with Japanese motifs, made in France by Felix Bracquemond and the J. Viellard Co., c. 1875-1880.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

Gallery view of the Firing the Imagination exhibition,

 showing a display of works by Edmund Lachenal, Léon Parvillée and other French ceramic artists of the late 19th century

How these beautiful Japanese-inspires ceramics found their way to the Colket Gallery is a fascinating story. It is a brilliant instance of "niche' collecting.

A New Jersey school teacher named Larry A. Simms focused his attention and financial resources on building a representative collection of works by overlooked Belle Epoque ceramic artists. With commendable generosity, Mr. Simms has donated much of his collection to the PMA. This is a major addition to the Philly Museum's impressive holdings of French nineteenth century art, brilliantly complementing its Impressionist paintings and Rodin sculptures.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

Gallery view of the Firing the Imagination exhibition

 in the Philadelphia Museum of Art's Colket Gallery

Of the artists collected by Simms, only one approaches the renown of the Impressionist painters. This is Felix Bracquemond, whose major claim to fame is his role as one of France's leading print makers. Bracquemond also designed Japonisme-inspired dinnerware including the "Parisian" and  "Rousseau" dinner services. Both are on view in the exhibit. Yet Bracquemomd's work in ceramics is often accorded only minimal attention. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

Gallery view of Firing the Imagination, with ceramic dinner ware, designed by Felix Bracquemond & others displayed on the walls.

Why painters, especially those working in oils, should be accorded precedence above artists engaged in other media is a question too weighty to be discussed here. But one aspect of the debate should be noted. Ceramic artists devoted themselves to a very dangerous form of creative enterprise. Until the 1970's, the glazes used to paint the various types of ceramic ware were lead-based. Inhaling the fumes during the heating process or touching dust-covered surfaces in the work room have claimed many a potter's life. 

Creating ceramics, therefore, is not a genteel, leisure pursuit. Even in today's safer conditions, it is an exacting discipline. There is plenty of hard labor involved and "brain work" too. One of the thematic displays of Firing the Imagination deals with the difficulty of using volatile, hard-to-control red glazes. 

As the exhibit wall text notes, European artists and chemists made concerted efforts during the late nineteenth century to "replicate the prized colors and surface effects of Japanese and Chinese ceramics." They were especially determined to match the deep red brown which the French called sang de boeuf, ox-blood.

Ernest Chaplet (1835-1909) led the way in developing a durable sang de boeuf glaze, for which he won a gold medal at the 1889 Paris World's Fair. Chaplet was a major innovator in the science of ceramics, though it should be noted that trying to get "just the right tone" of red still poses a challenge for potters.

A strikingly modern porcelain vase by Chaplet, drenched in sang de boeuf and dating close to the time of his award-winning success, is on view in the exhibition. If asked to date this magnificent vase, I would have thought that it had been created during the 1990's - or just yesterday!

Ernest Chaplet, Porcelain vase with sang de boeuf glaze, c. 1889

Equally impressive are examples of small vases which were glazed with traces of sang de boeuf, used to accentuate the other glaze hues. When such subtle color effects were applied to simplified, yet elegantly shaped pieces, as shown below, a true liberation of color and form occurred. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

A selection of small vases, glazed with accents of sang-de-boeuf. The vase, second from left, was made by Théodore Deck. All others were created by Albert-Louis Dammouse.

There are several dramatic story lines to Firing the Imagination which the wall texts explain in cogent and understandable terms. The ceramic objects d'art which we see in the exhibition testify to experiments in science, especially chemistry, as well as attempts to represent nature in tangible formats similar to what the Impressionist painters were doing in two dimensions. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

Glazed-stoneware dish, made by Albert-Louis Dammouse, c. 1900

A perfect illustration of this desire to "honor" nature is a glazed-stoneware dish, shaped like a lily-pad. It was created by Albert-Louis Dammouse around 1900, at the same time that Claude Monet was laying-out his water-gardens at Giverny. 

It is ironic that the French ceramics displayed in Firing the Imagination should have played an important role in the rise of the aesthetic of Modernism. It did not start out that way back in the 1860's when Japanese prints, followed soon after by Japanese craft objects, first reached Europe. 

Page view from Hokusai Gafu, vol. 1, 1849, an important source book for French artists, including Albert-Louis Dammouse & Felix Bracquemond

The amazement and exhilaration of European artists and the art-appreciating public in the West was so intense upon seeing the "floating world" images of Hokusai and Hiroshige that the immediate reaction was simply to imitate Japanese art. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

Plate made by Albert-Louis Dammouse, c. 1874, 

with decorative imagery based on a drawing by Hokusai, 1849

As a consequence of this enthusiasm for the art of  the "land of the rising sun", many of the ceramic plates and vases on view in Firing the Imagination appear to be authentically Japanese. In fact, not one was made in Japan. All are examples of French decorative art, though very much in l'esprit du Japon. 

In the case of the design for the parasol-carrying Japanese lady, Albert-Louis Dammouse borrowed this directly from a book of Katsushika Hokusai's prints (shown above). This book was the Hokusai Gafu, Volume 1, published in 1849. This publication date is important because it preceded the arrival of the U.S. Navy squadron which "opened" Japan's doors to the West in 1853. 

Hokusai Gafu was intended for a Japanese audience but it was perfectly timed to "fire" the imagination of Albert-Louis Dammouse, who transposed the parasol-carrying lady from a rainy landscape to a sparkling, blossom-strewn dinner plate.

Felix Bracquemond was similarly smitten by Hokusai's image and he lifted it, almost without alteration to the elegant vase below. If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, Japanese masters like Hokusai should have been very flattered.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

Felix Bracquemond's Vase, c. 1875

Real artists of talent and vision are never content to merely imitate. Very soon, French artists were drawing upon the Japanese aesthetic to create new art forms. Some of these, like the sang de boeuf-glazed vases, discussed earlier, helped set the trajectory of decorative arts towards the future.

Other French artists like Edmund Lachenel and Léon Parvillée, used Japanese motifs as a passport to realms of whimsy and wonderment that defy precise categorization - and are all the more enjoyable for just that reason. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

From left, Léon Parvillée's Figure of a Guardian Lion, c. 1880;

 Edmund Lachenal's Vase, c. 1885

Léon Parvillée was a multi talented French architect who worked in the Middle East for many years, restoring historic buildings. Parvillée's spirited rendition of a Chinese guardian lion, popularly known as a "fu dog", certainly captured the ethos of the orient. But closer inspection reveals more than a touch of Gallic bravado in this feisty temple guard. The brilliant handling of the blue and yellow glazes is impressive, as well.

What Edmund Lachenal (1855-1930) intended to represent with the cheerfully bizarre vase, shown to the right of Parvillée's fu dog, is anyone's guess. The vase, shaped like a bottle gourd, was created around 1885. A gourd of the type known in Japan as a hyotan, it is symbolical of longevity and success. 

The two winged dragons, squaring-off on the gleaming blue surface of the vase are perhaps more indicative of the deep interior well into which Lachenal cast for ideas and inspiration. The winged-dragons are an indelible icon of East Asia, but here, in Lachenal's treatment, they breathe the air - and fire - of his French imagination.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

Edmund Lachenal's Vase (detail), c. 1885

From a conventional potter's apprenticeship, with Théodore Deck, Lachenel went on to become France's leading Art Nouveau potter. His individuality and originality could not be contained, even by the vast riches of Japonisme. 

The "show-stopper" of Firing the Imagination demonstrates to perfection how Lachenal and his colleagues drew inspiration from Japanese art and then in a process of personal alchemy - which is the essence of all art - created something new, something magical, something unforgettable.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

Edmund Lachenal's Vase in the Form of a Lantern, c. 1895

Lachenal's Vase in the Form of a Lantern is an homage to Japanese art and culture. But it is also a personal statement and a manifesto on behalf of all artists. Lachenal shows here that inspiration is only the beginning. Like the cheeky little bat hovering over the lantern's crinkled surface, Edmund Lachenal was determined to flap his creative wings - and did.

Thanks to the collecting genius and generosity of Larry Sims and this remarkable exhibition at the PMA, a vital chapter of French art has been brought to life. Little known ceramic artists have finally been given their due. And the imaginations of those fortunate to visit the Colket Gallery have been touched with fire.

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved                                                   

Original photography, copyright of Anne Lloyd

Unless otherwise noted. all art works are from the Philadelphia Museum of Art Collection, by gift of Mr. Larry A. Simms

Introductory Image: Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Gallery view of the Firing the Imagination exhibition at the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Art works from the Firing the Imagination exhibit. At left, is a vase made by Théodore Deck & decorated by Marie-Caroline-Eléonore Escallier, c. 1870. Earthenware with underglaze and enamel decoration: 10 ½ x 9 7/8 inches (26.7 x 25.1 cm); at right, is a vase by Auguste Jean, 1885. Glazed earthenware. Larry A. Simms collection.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) A selection of ceramic plates decorated with Japanese motifs, made in France by Felix Bracquemond and the J. Viellard Co., c. 1875-1880.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Gallery view of the Firing the Imagination exhibition, showing a display of works by Edmund Lachenal, Léon Parvillée and other French ceramic artists of the late 19th century

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Gallery view of the Firing the Imagination exhibition in the Philadelphia Museum of Art's Colket Gallery.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Gallery view of Firing the Imagination, with ceramic dinner ware, designed by Felix Bracquemond & others displayed on the walls.

Ernest Chaplet (French,1835-1909) Porcelain vase with sang de boeuf glaze, c. 1889. Porcelain: 11 ¾ x 10 x 10 inches ( 29.8 x 25.4 x 25.4 cm, Philadelphia Museum of Art photo.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) A selection of small vases, glazed with accents of sang-de-boeuf. The vase, second from left, was made by Théodore Deck (Porcelain: 6 x 4 inches (15.2 x 10.2 cm.). All others were created by Albert-Louis Dammouse.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Glazed-stoneware dish, made by Albert-Louis Dammouse, c. 1900. Diameter: 13 3/4 inches (34.9 cm)

Katsushika Hokusai Page view from Hokusai Gafu, vol. 1, 1849, an important source book for French artists, including Albert-Louis Dammouse & Felix Bracquemond. Open access image from Smithsonian digital library book.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Plate made by Albert-Louis Dammouse, c. 1874, with decorative imagery based on a drawing by Hokusai, 1849. Hard paste porcelain:  (diameter) 9 1/2 inches (24.1 cm)

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Felix Bracquemond's Vase, c. 1875. Made for Haviland & Co. Limoges, France.  Porcelain with hand-painted transfer images. Larry A. Simms collection.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) From left, Léon Parvillée's Figure of a Guardian Lion, c. 1880, Glazed earthenware: 8 1/4 × 9 × 5 inches (20.9 × 22.9 × 12.7 cm); Edmund Lachenal's Vase, c. 1885. Glazed earthenware: 17 3/4 × 8 3/4 × 7 inches (45.1 × 22.2 × 17.8 cm)

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Edmund Lachenal's Vase (detail), c. 1885

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Edmund Lachenal's Vase in the Form of a Lantern, c. 1895. Height: 11 1/4 inches (28.6 cm)

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Gallery view of the Firing the Imagination exhibition in the Philadelphia Museum of Art's Colket Gallery

 

 

Art Eyewitness Essay: A Late Winter Idyll at the Rodin Museum

 

                               Art Eyewitness Photo Essay:                         

   A Late Winter Idyll at the Rodin Museum

Original photography by Anne Lloyd

Commentary by Ed Voves

The calendar page has flipped to April 2025. It is time to bid farewell to March and prepare to greet spring in the first blush of its glory.

The magnolia trees are flowering. Forsythia bushes are clad in yellow-gold, as are the first of this year’s daffodils. Best of all, cherry and apple blossoms, delicate in pink and silvery white, are starting to appear. These are familiar sights which never grow old.

Normally, the passing of March is not an occasion for regret. The third month of the year is tricky and unpredictable. It dangles the promise of spring but is often slow to deliver. But when the first buds and blossoms reveal themselves – what wonder!

So, let’s drink a “cup of kindness” in honor of the month of March and, while we do, let’s not forget to praise the blue skies of March.

The late winter/early spring skies – when March is in a cooperative mood – have a clear, crystalline brilliance which other seasons often cannot match. The clarity of vision at this time of the year can be quite extraordinary. There is a sharpness to perception which, coupled with the chill of the air, creates a heightened state of awareness.

Taken to extremes, this visionary state can engender a form of "March Madness." It's easy to get carried away, snapping photos heedlessly - and forgetting that it's still winter.

With these thoughts in mind, Anne and I availed ourselves of the opportunity to do some urban landscape photography. The date was March 3, 2025 and the weather was perfect for our afternoon photo safari to the neighborhood surrounding the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) 

 The east entrance of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and the

 "Rocky Steps" as seen from Eakins Oval

Late winter sunlight is particularly effective in casting shadows from trees (still without leaves) and public monuments. The magnificent equestrian statue of General George Washington, created by the German sculptor Rudolf Siemering, never looks more “alive” than when it is seen in silhouette against the backdrop of a crisp, azure sky of March.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) 

 Statue of George Washington, created by Rudolf Siemering in 1897, located on Eakins Oval, in front of the Philadelphia Museum of Art 

There are plenty of locations in Philadelphia favoring such a photo “op”. We chose the Rodin Museum, located a couple of blocks from the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) 

 Exterior view of the Rodin Museum, Philadelphia 

The Rodin Museum is a text book example of classical architecture in a modern urban setting. It was designed by Paul Cret (1876-1945), the architect of the Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington D.C., to house an impressive collection of sculptures by Auguste Rodin (1840-1917).

The early movie theater mogul, Jules Mastbaum (1872-1926), had amassed these Rodin masterpieces and funded the construction of the museum and its surrounding gardens which he intended to bequeath to the city of Philadelphia. Sadly, Mastbaum died before the museum was built, but his wife, Etta, saw the project to completion.

The Rodin Museum opened in 1929 and is administered by the Philadelphia Museum of Art. The collection of Rodin bronzes, marble statues and plaster models is one of the largest outside of France. When we visited on March 3^rd, we were more interested in recording the effect of light and shadow on the exterior of the museum rather than the works of art on display in the interior.

Little did we know what “crafty” March had planned for us.

There certainly are outstanding sculptures adorning the exterior walls of the museum or positioned around it, in the open air. One of the most poignant and provocative works in the canon of Western art, The Burgers of Calais, is prominently displayed in the garden adjacent to the Rodin Museum. Since I discussed the Burgers in an earlier Art Eyewitness essay, I will  forgo making additional commentary in this post.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Auguste Rodin's The Burgers of Calais, 

modeled 1884-1895, cast 1919-1921

Instead let's begin with Rodin’s most familiar work. The Thinker, sits in thoughtful meditation at the entrance to the Rodin Museum campus. Originally conceived, in a much reduce scale, to crown the vast ensemble known as The Gates of Hell (about which more later), The Thinker has suffered from over-exposure. Kenneth Clark commented that when "seen in isolation, (it) is a tiresome generalization."

When viewed in the sharp, piercing light of a sunlit March afternoon, The Thinker is able to defy even Clark's otherwise astute judgement.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

 Auguste Rodin's The Thinker, modeled 1880-81,

 enlarged 1902-04, cast 1919

In one of the alcoves on the front of the museum building stands The Age of Bronze. This superb work, one of Rodin's finest in my estimation, pivots on his feet with arms stretching upward, as if breaking free from the metallic grip which has confined his spirit. Perhaps it would be better to think of this statue not as a man of bronze, but as a new incarnation of "The Thinker." Finished with brooding reflection, he stands, springing into life. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)

Views of Auguste Rodin's The Age of Bronze,

displayed on the facade of the Rodin Museum

That we can read or imply thoughts, emotions, muscular movements into inert bronze statues testifies to the power and insight of Rodin as a maker of public art. 

Rodin's bronzes were made to be seen out-of-doors. Exposed to, enveloped by and brought to "life" by sunlight, a Rodin bronze exudes a sense of energy than corresponds to Henri Bergson's concept of Élan vitale. However impressive a gallery setting may be for a Rodin bronze, artificial light does not have the same "conjuring" effect.

Great works of public art are creatures of shadow, as well as light. The interplay of constantly shifting light, transitory shadow and solid, enduring bronze and stone was present everywhere we looked during our visit to the Rodin Museum.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) 

 Sunlight and shadow on the Rodin Museum entrance

In the case of the Rodin Museum, a major factor in the interaction of light and shadow is the parallel row of tall trees which extend along the Benjamin Franklin Parkway in front of the museum.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) 

 Tree-lined sidwalk in front of the Rodin Museum

When the afternoon light strikes these trees, it casts their shadow upon the facade of the Rodin Museum. The effect is unsettling. The stone walls and columns now bear the ghostly imprint of stately trees which appear to be growing-up from below the payment to embrace the building, clinging to it like ivy.

Of course, the image of shadow upon stone can be accounted for by the laws of optics. The precisely articulated landscape design of the Rodin gardens and the classical architecture of the museum stand four-square against descriptions such as "the effect is magical" or "mystical nature has asserted itself over the hand of man."

Yet, there is a dramatic clash of ideals which is integral to the structure and mission of the Rodin Museum. Paul Cret, a French-born architect schooled in the principles of Beaux-Arts design, created a building which is emblematic of the Age of Reason. Auguste Rodin's oeuvre proclaims what Kenneth Clark called the Romantic Rebellion which overturned the classicism which Cret's design evoked. 

This creative conflict or dissonance is staring one in the face when you behold the monumentally huge doors of the Rodin Museum, The Gates of Hell.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) 

 Auguste Rodin's The Gates of Hell, modeled 1880–1917, cast 1926–28

Rodin's The Gates of Hell are completely at odds with classicism and reason, even with Dante's poem which it is supposed to illustrate. It is hard tell who among the writhing, contorted figures emerging from its surface is damned and who is saved. The Gates of Hell  offers so few concessions to our human sensibilities that a lot of times when I visit the Rodin Museum, I give it a quick glance - and a shudder - and walk inside through less intimidating doors.  

 However, with the luminous March sunlight at work, in tandem with the corresponding shadows, Rodin's Gates of Hell arrest one's attention with irresistible force. I had to look, had to ponder the meaning of the disturbing drama which Rodin modeled on it surface. A glimpse in passing just would not do.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) 

 Details of Auguste Rodin's The Gates of Hell 

When I did manage to wrench my eyes away from the "continuous swirling and floating in Art Nouveau rhythms"  which characterize The Gates of Hell, "tricky and unpredictable" March had a surprise planned for us, once we were inside.

The interior of the Rodin Museum is a beautifully proportioned space with abundant room to take the measure of the works of art by the great French master. Since paintings and works on paper are seldom displayed at the Rodin, there are several windows which open the main-floor area to natural light.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) 

 Interior view of the Rodin Museum,

 showing the museum's central display gallery

The Rodin Museum is an almost idyllic spot, year-round, and during Philadelphia's hot, humid summers it is an oasis for the body, as well as the mind. The month of March, as I hinted earlier, had something else in store for us, in one of the side galleries of the museum: a light show which would dramatize Rodin's most controversial work, his 1898 monument to the French literary lion, Honoré de Balzac.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) 

 Auguste Rodin's Balzac. Modeled 1898; cast 1925.

Upon entering this gallery, on the northwest corner of the museum, we were amazed to behold the room and the statue of Balzac bathed in fiery light. It was the kind of blood-orange hue which J.M.W. Turner would have used to paint burning Parliament buildings. But there were no nearby buildings afire and it was still almost two hours until sunset.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) 

 Gallery view of the Rodin Museum, showing Balzac, background,

 and Colossal Head of Balzac, foreground 

By some "trick" effect of late winter sunlight, a setting was created worthy of Balzac, one of the titans of 19th century Romanticism. The blazing orange light also recalled the violent reception of Rodin's Monument to Balzac by the literary society which had commissioned it in 1891. It was not until 1939 that a bronze cast of the Balzac statue was finally put on display in Paris. 

By contrast, the smaller version in the Rodiin Museum collection was cast in 1925. It shares the gallery with the Colossal Head of Balzac, which is a 1925 cast of one of the final studies for the controversial plaster model which was rejected in 1898.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) 

 Rodin's Colossal Head of Balzac

There is also an actual plaster model of a naked Balzac, without his famous dressing gown which he habitually wore while writing. This was one of the many studies made by Rodin during the seven year project. By another uncanny act of illumination, a piecing beam of light streaked across the gallery floor, aimed directly at the plaster model. We could not have planned all of these "fireworks" even if we had tried.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025) 

 Late afternoon light effects at the Rodin Museum,

 as described in the text above.

And then the sunlight shifted. The light in the gallery faded.  The show was over.

The results of our photo safari had far exceeded our expectations. We were truly gratified, even a bit mystified. Had these remarkable images and the thoughts and reflections they engendered merely been an accident of timing and good luck?

I could not help but think of the famous lines from William Blake's The Marriage of Heaven and Hell.

“If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern."

Did the doors of perception open for us, even if but a narrow chink? If so, I can hardly think of a better place for that to happen than the Rodin Museum on a sunny, late-winter afternoon during the month of March.

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved

Original photography, copyright of Anne Lloyd

Introductory Image: Anne Lloyd, Photo (2025)  Detail of Auguste Rodin's Balzac. Details and credits below.

 All photos illustrating this essay were taken by Anne Lloyd on March 3, 2025.

Significant works of art discussed in this essay include:

The Gates of Hell, modeled 1880–1917, cast 1926–28. Created by Auguste Rodin (French, 1840–1917), bronze, 20 feet 10 3/4 inches × 13 feet 2 inches × 33 3/8 inches (636.9 × 401.3 × 84.8 cm) Philadelphia Museum of Art, Rodin Museum Collection.  Bequest of Jules E. Mastbaum, 1929

The Age of Bronze. Modeled 1875-1877; cast 1925.  Created by Auguste Rodin  (French, 1840 – 1917). Cast by the founder Alexis Rudier, Paris (1874–1952) Bronze:  67 x 23 5/8 × 23 5/8 inches (170.2 × 60 × 60 cm) Weight: 314 lb. (142429.47g) Philadelphia Museum of Art, Rodin Museum Collection.  Bequest of Jules E. Mastbaum, 1929

Balzac. Modeled 1898; cast 1925. Created by Auguste Rodin  (French, 1840 – 1917). Cast by the founder Alexis Rudier, Paris (1874–1952) Bronze:  41 3/4 x 15 3/4 x 13 3/4 inches (106 x 40 x 34.9 cm) Philadelphia Museum of Art, Rodin Museum Collection.  Bequest of Jules E. Mastbaum, 1929

Colossal Head of Balzac. Modeled 1898; cast 1925. Created by Auguste Rodin  (French, 1840 – 1917). Cast by the founder Alexis Rudier, Paris (1874 – 1952) Bronze: 20 x 16 1/2 x 15 1/4 inches (50.8 x 41.9 x 38.7 cm) Philadelphia Museum of Art, Rodin Museum collection, Bequest of Jules E. Mastbaum, 1929.