ART HISTORY ESSAY

The Art Institute of Chicago

Rediscovering Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec's "At the Moulin Rouge" Author(s): Reinhold Heller and Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec Source: Art Institute of Chicago Museum Studies, Vol. 12, No. 2, The Helen Birch Bartlett Memorial Collection (1986), pp. 114-135 Published by: The Art Institute of Chicago Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/4115937 Accessed: 29-01-2019 00:49 UTC

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Rediscovering

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec's

At the Moulin Rouge REINHOLD HELLER,

Professor of Art and Germanic Languages and Literature,

The University of Chicago

THOSE works of art with which we are the most familiar often are the ones we actually know least. As we confront these objects, our expectations- molded by prior knowledge and beliefs-obscure the reality before us. We confuse, in turn, many art works with the biographies of their makers. The lives of artists, especially of those who were working during the Post- Impressionist era-extending roughly from Seurat and Gauguin in the 1880s to Picasso in his initial years in Paris around 1900-are encased in an envelope of myth and legend that associates the art with an imagined bohe- mianism accented by sexual license, alcoholic excess, ge- nius merged with insanity, and deaths that are roman- tically youthful due to suicide or mysteriously decadent diseases. The art becomes a means of vicarious escape from our own lives into a novel and suggestive world whose diabolic excess we control through our ability to leave our aesthetic daydreams at will and thus avoid the final fates of those artists we have admired. In this proc- ess, the artworks lose their physical reality and become specters of themselves, ghostly apparitions of a cult whose shrines are the hushed halls of museums or gal- leries and whose sacred texts are the biographies, novels, and films filled with illustrations serving as rememo- rative substitutes for the art itself. Yearning for the famil- iar, we blind ourselves with comfortable precognition: We look through, not at, the works of art we know best and permit their aura to overshadow their material reality.

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec's At the Moulin Rouge (fig. 1), one of a series of Post-Impressionist master- pieces in the Helen Birch Bartlett Memorial Collection of The Art Institute of Chicago, surely has earned its place among such icons of comfortable familiarity. Illus- trated and discussed in the many volumes of writings on the legendary crippled, pathetic, but laughing dwarf of Montmartre; included in the numerous exhibitions of Lautrec's work that draw visitors by tens of thousands; among the most sought-out paintings at the Art In- stitute, At the Moulin Rouge is a work we may even find too familiar and one we avoid with some sense of embar-

rassment because of its, and Lautrec's, popularity. Our faith in our familiarity is misplaced, however: the paint- ing is not what we have wanted it to be. Much of what we have thought to be true about it for over eighty years is false. Recent examinations of the painting by the Art Institute's Department of Conservation, particularly by conservator David Kolch, reveal a painting we have never seen.

Before we turn to those findings, we should review what we have believed and what we do actually know. Prior to entering the collections of the Art Institute in 1928, At the Moulin Rouge was displayed at the museum from December 1924 to January 1925 in a Lautrec ex- hibition organized by the Arts Club of Chicago. From the works in that exhibition, Frederic Clay Bartlett and other Chicago collectors selected those that today form

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THE ART INSTITUTE OF CHICAGO VOLUME 12, NO. 2

Afuseum

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FIGURE 1 Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (French, 1864-1901). At the Moulin Rouge, 1894/95. Oil on canvas; 123 x 141 cm. The Art Institute of Chicago, Helen Birch Bartlett Memorial Collection (1928.610).

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the core of the Art Institute's enviable Lautrec collec-

tion.1 Before being purchased for the Chicago museum, the painting had been owned by Parisian collectors and art galleries since 1902, the year following Lautrec's death. It was ceded, along with other works in Lautrec's estate, to Maurice Joyant, codirector of the Galerie Manzi-Joyant in Paris and executor of the estate, by Lautrec's father, Count Alphonse de Toulouse-Lautrec, "with all my heart and without regret ... [because] you believe in his work more than I do and because you have been proven right."2 Joyant then apparently sold the painting to his partner, Manzi.3 Also in 1902, At the Moulin Rouge seems to have been included among the group of some fifty works by Lautrec exhibited at the April Salon des Independants.4 However, after that ex- hibition, the painting was not displayed in public again until 1914, when the Galerie Manzi-Joyant held a retro- spective exhibition.5 Although it may have been available in the intervening years at the Galerie Manzi-Joyant, for twelve years the painting essentially disappeared from public view. The 1914 exhibition was followed by an- other decade during which At the Moulin Rouge was again largely unseen.6 Not until after the 1924 Chicago exhibition did the painting become a consistent part of Lautrec's oeuvre in shows devoted to his work. Then, and particularly after it entered the Art Institute's collec- tions, the painting was on constant public display, either on loan to numerous exhibitions in the United States and

Europe, or in the Art Institute itself. The early exhibition history of the painting, there-

fore, is one filled with lengthy gaps during which it was not available to the public. Moreover, to this history of invisibility must be added even more significant years, because At the Moulin Rouge was apparently never ex- hibited prior to 1902, when Manzi purchased it.7 Today universally identified as one of Toulouse-Lautrec's most important works, and one of the few large paintings created by him, it seems never to have been shown by him either in an exhibition devoted to his own art or in

group exhibitions such as those of the Salons des Inde- pendants to which he consistently contributed. During Lautrec's lifetime, the painting remained in his studio. Lautrec's seeming reluctance to exhibit it deprives us of documentation that could establish the year in which he created it. Nonetheless, At the Moulin Rouge has consis- tently been assigned to 1892 since Maurice Joyant first listed it among a group of eight paintings with this title created in that year.8 These eight paintings are clustered around a grouping of four that explore various aspects of the nocturnal life of the famed Montmartre music hall

and that were exhibited in 1893 at the Galerie Goupil, which Joyant managed at the time.9 The painting now in the Art Institute was not among them, however. None-

FIGURE 2 Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. Le Divan

Japonais, 1892/93. Lithograph in four colors; 80 x 61.5 cm. The Art Institute of Chicago. Mr. and Mrs. Carter H. Harrison Collection (1949.1002).

theless, in Joyant's biography and monograph on Toulouse-Lautrec, which in 1926 established authorita- tively the compass and the chronology of Lautrec's works, he discussed the Art Institute painting as if it had been an essential component of the 1892 painting suite he had exhibited in 1893:

The renewal of the Moulin Rouge [under the new manage- ment of Joseph Oller in 1892] as new performers preferred by Lautrec were hired inspired him [to paint] . . . La Goulue and her Sister, The Dance or The Beginning of the Quadrille, La Goulue and her Sister Entering the Moulin Rouge, The Dancers, and finally: Au Moulin Rouge with several of his friends seen with La Macarona at a table.10

Joyant categorically stated: "This painting is one of the most important of all works by Lautrec. . . . It serves as

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Rediscovering Lautrec

the summation of all his studies of the Moulin Rouge." He went on to identify the persons seen in At the Moulin Rouge:

Seated around the table, from left to right, are M. Edouard Dujardin [a Symbolist poet, critic, and dramatist associated with the Revue Wagnerienne and the Revue Independante], La Macarona [a dancer], Paul Sescau [a professional photog- rapher], Maurice Guibert [a proprietor of the vineyard of Moht et Chandon champagne]; in the foreground to the right, seen full-face: Mile. Nelly C. [a name otherwise unknown]; in the central part: [the dancer] La Goulue adjusting her hair and silhouettes of [Lautrec's cousin] Dr. G. Tapie de Celeyran, and of Toulouse-Lautrec himself wearing his bowler hat.11

Joyant's ability to identify with certainty various fig- ures in the painting lends his information the quality of authority, as he intended, but this authority is under- mined by his failure to even mention other figures. Joyant's writings about Lautrec are filled with personal reminiscences about the artist and the people he be- friended.12 Joyant should therefore have been able to identify with little difficulty the woman seen from the

back, seated between Dujardin and Guibert. Her com- plex knot of fiery red hair, her tall hat of tulle and ostrich feathers, the gesture of her hand with little finger dain- tily extended-all these are identifiably the attributes of the dancer Jane Avril, described by Joyant himself as "Lautrec's most intelligent and complaisant model ... with her very fine but pale facial features, angular, al- most simian in figure and movement."13 Jane Avril ap- pears in the company of Dujardin, for example, in the 1893 poster for the music hall, Le DivanJaponais (fig. 2), in a pose quite similar to hers in At the Moulin Rouge, and in two painted sketches (figs. 3, 4), also closely related to her figure in the painting and certainly used by Lautrec as he worked out the composition. Another fa- miliar dancer whom Joyant knew and failed to identify in the Art Institute painting is the woman seen in profile near La Goulue in the background, and easily recog- nized as La Mome Fromage, so closely associated with La Goulue as to be called her sister by Joyant in the painting of La Goulue entering the Moulin Rouge (see fig. 5), as well as elsewhere.

Joyant simply ignored the figures of Jane Avril and La Mome Fromage when he named the personnages of At

FIGURE 3 Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. Femme

de Dos (Jane Avril), 1892/95. Oil or gouache on cardboard; 59.7 x 39.4 cm. Upperville, Va., collection of Mr. and Mrs. Paul Mellon.

FIGURE 4 Henri de

Toulouse-Lautrec. Jane Avril, 1892/95. Oil or gouache on cardboard. Albi, France, Mus~e Toulouse-Lautrec.

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the Moulin Rouge. More problematic, however, is his identification of the large right-hand foreground figure as "Mlle. Nelly C.," someone whose name is connected with Lautrec at no other time. The name is, in fact, a fiction that permitted Joyant to hide the actual identity of the person depicted: the English (or perhaps Amer- ican) dancer May Milton.14 Lautrec created a poster for her in 1895 (fig. 6), apparently for a tour of the United States, and used its composition for a black-and-white lithograph illustrating her dance in the August 3, 1895, issue of Le Rire (fig. 7). Moreover, in addition to printed sketches for the poster, he painted her portrait (fig. 8) and exhibited it at the London branch of Goupil's in 1898.15 Her strange hat, perched on her head like a giant Art Nouveau insect with fibrous antennae and winglike bows, also appeared in Lautrec's cover of the sheet music for Yvette Guilbert's song "Eros Vann6" in 1894 (fig. 9). The features of the dancer seem to linger in those of the wearer of the hat as well.

Despite Joyant's failure to properly identify May Milton as the major figure in At the Moulin Rouge, he is the source of the most information about her, but his description is tinged with distaste and notes of disdain:

At the same time [as Lautrec discovered May Belfort, the Irish singer, in 1895] he also hunted down May Milton, but this May was no more than a dancer. Her pale face was clown-like and reminded one of nothing so much as a bull dog. Nothing in her face was attractive, but her movements' suppleness, her purely English choreographic training ... [were] a sort of revelation to us then. .. 16

Others inform us that May Milton became the close friend of Jane Avril and that the two were in each other's company constantly, so that the lime-green face of May Milton, complementing the red-orange hair of Jane Avril in the painting, may serve as a commentary on their relationship. After 1895, however, Milton disappeared from the retinue of Lautrec, possibly after leaving for her American tour. With May Milton seemingly moving off the canvas and away from the central group, the painting could well symbolize her departure from the milieu of the Moulin Rouge.

Neither Miss Milton's brief appearance on the stages of Montmartre nor her departure suffice to explain Joyant's negative references to her, or certainly the vi- tuperative description of her portrait (fig. 8) written in 1913 by Gustave Cocquiot:

I remember having seen-with what a shudder [frisson]- this [portrait of] May Milton . . . with her yellowish-white complexion that left the impression of a bladder skin thinly stretched over some magma alternating between yellow and whitish green. This painting is of a hideous terror. This mouth, rubbed red, drops open like a vulva, lacking reserve, without solidity. It opens and lets enter whatever will! And the painter of this dreadful image was a lover of women! What entangled sadism! . . . or perhaps a sort of sermon addressed to other men? It is a singular problem.17

Cocquiot's bizarre, deprecating comments suggest that he was thinking of the apparition of May Milton at the right of At the Moulin Rouge more than of her other portrait, and that he was attempting to impart an ap- otropaic value to it, again as if something about the

FIGURE 5 Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. La Goulue En-

tering the Moulin Rouge, 1891/92. Oil on cardboard; 79.4 x 59 cm. Philadelphia Museum of Art. Photo: M. G. Dortu, Toulouse-Lautrec et son oeuvre (New York, 1971), vol. 2. p. 243.

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FIGURE 8 Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. May Milton, 1895. Oil and pastel on cardboard; 65.9 x 49.2 cm. The Art

Institute of Chicago, bequest of Kate L. Brewster (1949.263).

Top left FIGURE 6 Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. May Milton, 1895. Lithograph in five colors; 83 x 62 cm. The Art Institute of Chicago, Carter H. Harrison Collection (1948.451).

Left

FIGURE 7 Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. May Milton, 1895. Lithograph in black. Published in Le Rire, Aug. 3, 1895. New York, collection of Herbert L. Schimmel. Photo: Nathan Rabin, New York.

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memory of May Milton was so unpleasant or scandalous as to require rejection and condemnation. What this might have been is open only to conjecture: might Miss Milton's relationship with Jane Avril have been a lesbian one? At the time of the painting, in his depictions of prostitutes, Lautrec demonstrated definite interest in what the French identified as l'amour anglais, but polite society would surely have condemned such relationships outside the "perverse" atmosphere of the brothel. Joyant's and Cocquiot's references to vulgarity, ugliness, troupes of dancing "girls," overly receptive female geni- tals, and sermons to men can all serve as disguised refer- ences to what they did not wish to mention overtly: female homosexuality. Similarly, if the figure on the

cover of "Eros Vanne" (fig. 9) can be associated with the English dancer, the song's rhythmic ennui, its celebra- tion of the tired sensibilities of nevroses, of "secret ma- neuvers to resuscitate senses now defunct," and of "the quest for novel frissons [thrills]," all cause an eros:

Very old, worn out and satiated Despite my twenty years, because I was born on a bed of tarnished roses and I am an exhausted Eros!18

Thus, the song may signal forbidden erotic pleasures shared by two women such as those Lautrec depicted in At the Moulin Rouge. With one of the women in pseudo-masculine dress, the potential for identifying them as lovers and, by implication, as Jane Avril and May Milton, cannot be readily dismissed.

The conclusion we tentatively reach must remain con- jecture, but it is one invited by the tone and content of Lautrec's ardent defenders as they discussed May Milton. Their need to denigrate-even annihilate-her memory appears to be the predominant motive, a motive that may explain the history of "vandalism" At the Moulin Rouge has suffered. The painting clearly shows, even in reproductions, that it is composed of two canvas segments: a rectangle measuring approximately one hun- dred and twenty-four by ninety-four centimeters and containing the group seated around the table; and a re- verse-L-shaped segment, somewhat irregularly edged, measuring in its lower arm some twenty-seven cen- timeters high while its vertical portion is approximately sixteen centimeters wide and contains most of the figure of May Milton. Despite the easy visibility of this seg- mentation, it was not mentioned by Joyant or by M. G. Dortu in her six-volume catalogue of Lautrec's paintings and drawings compiled in 1971 to supplant Joyant's sixty- year-old listings.19 Virtually all the literature on the painting, in fact, has been remarkably silent concerning the mounting of the two canvas segments on a new sup- porting lining canvas, the filling in with plaster of tack- ing holes surrounding the rectangle, and the efforts to touch up the junctures to make them less obtrusive. The first, and little noted, published mention (there are un-

FIGURE 9 Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. Eros

Vanne, 1894. Lithograph in black on tan wove paper; 49.6 x 33.9 cm. The Art Institute of Chicago, Carter H. Harrison Collection (1949.991).

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Rediscovering Lautrec

published ones in the Art Institute's conservation and curatorial files dating back to the 1930s) is contained in a 1956 book by Douglas Cooper:

In its original form this picture was a straightforward con- versation piece in which the spectator was imagined close to the table and looking down on the scene from just behind the back of the woman with orange hair. But Lautrec must have felt that this conception was too illustrative and banal, for at a later stage he enlarged his canvas. .... Then he brought all the pictorial science at his command into play in order to transform the impressionistic or photographic im- age into a no less realistic but pictorially more effective one.20

The joining of the two segments to transform a genre scene of people in a cafe, such as had become common since Edouard Manet and the Impressionists began their systematic exploration of this theme during the 1860s, into a more radical composition, with a partial figure pushed to the edge of the canvas-that is, linked to the art of Edgar Degas and Japanese woodcuts-was not discussed further until twenty-two years later, when Gale B. Murray reviewed Mme. Dortu's catalogue:

No information is offered as to the way works may have been repainted or otherwise altered. Au Moulin Rouge ... is again a most significant example, for at one point Lautrec radically enlarged and revised the painting by adding an extra piece of canvas and the prominent figure to the right. Dortu makes no mention of this fact and evidently did not find the reproduction of this painting in its original state, published in 1902.21

The photograph to which Murray referred (fig. 10) was republished shortly thereafter when the Art Institute organized a large exhibition of Lautrec paintings in 1979. In the catalogue, Charles Stuckey and Naomi Maurer referred to the photograph and, after identifying "Mlle. Nelly C." for the first time as May Milton, argued that the original painting of 1892 was revised by Lautrec after he met Milton in 1895.22 The dating of the painting to 1892, first supplied by Joyant and accepted by everyone after him, was thereby revised, but not rejected, largely on the basis of its subject matter.

The conclusion that, in 1895, Lautrec was dissatisfied with his 1892 composition and revised it by expanding it is the one we would most readily seek. In this case, it also conforms to our image of Lautrec as an artist who moved from a relatively traditional realism toward a more radically stylized art, especially in his lithographs. The figure of the woman cut off by the edge of the canvas, her face tinted green and yellow, seems a jarring contrast to the more naturalistic rendering of the re-

mainder of the painting, and thus appears to justify the conclusion that Lautrec painted this work in two cam- paigns, separated by three years. That conclusion is what the logic of art history and biography demands; but that conclusion is also totally wrong. At the Moulin Rouge was painted all at one time, but not in 1892; as we shall see, it was later cut, the L-shaped segment was removed, and still later it was added back onto the rectangle from which it had been separated.

The examination of the painting during the fall of 1985 by Art Institute conservator David Kolch shows in- controvertably that Lautrec's original painting was cut up.23 When the two canvas segments were inspected, the paint surfaces and manner of application were seen to be similar. In certain areas, such as the ballustrade at the lower left, which would have had to be partially painted over to make adjustments if the painting had been ex- tended, no sign of overpainting is to be found. Lautrec's practice of using paint thinned with turpentine until it soaked into the ground of the canvas would have made the duplication of surface qualities extremely difficult, if not impossible, without remnants of this process re- maining visible. X-radiographs of the painting, more- over, showed that brushstrokes of objects such as the bentwood chair extended from one canvas segment into the other. To the evidence of paint surface and brush- strokes can be added that provided by the weave of the canvas. Running horizontally through the canvas at sev- eral points are noticeably heavy threads; these "fat threads" cross the vertical seam joining one canvas seg- ment to the other, thereby demonstrating that the two segments were once of one piece, not two distinct can- vases later joined. The canvas painted by Lautrec must therefore originally have been at least its current size. The rectangular portion of the table group was later cut away and restretched to create the painting seen in the 1902 photograph, while the L-shaped portion was un- stretched, folded diagonally near its center (paint loss here indicates this), and presumably stored away. Re- joined again later to its severed segment on a lining can- vas, the seams resulting from this process were painted over to minimize and hide them. From this procedure of dismemberment and rejoining, the painting now in the Art Institute resulted.

The major question arising from this previously unrec- ognized process is, obviously, who cut the painting and when, as well as who patched it back together and, again, when? Was it Toulouse-Lautrec who initially re- moved the figure of May Milton and then preserved the canvas fragment with her on it, so that the executors of his estate were able to rejoin the two pieces? Or did Joyant both cut and then again patch the painting after the artist's death? Documentation that would defini-

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tively answer these questions does not seem to exist, and there are also no critics' descriptions of it during Lautrec's lifetime to provide clues as to its appearance then. But, by examining once more the painting itself, the information concerning it supplied by Joyant, and the photograph published in 1902, we can arrive at a reasonable conclusion as to the probable circumstances and dates of the creation and alteration of At the Moulin Rouge.

As we now know, the photograph thought to repre- sent an early stage of Lautrec's painting has been proven to be instead a "second stage"-in which the canvas was cut down and split in both dimension and content, with the offending image of May Milton removed. If the can- vas of the painting itself today continues to testify to us that, in its original conception, May Milton, whom Lautrec met in 1894 or 1895, was very much a part of it, the photograph of the reduced version (fig. 10) provides us with a date-1902--prior to which the dismember- ment took place. The circumstances of the photograph's publication may also tell us why this seeming "vandaliz- ing" of an artist's work happened at all. The photograph was published along with those of thirty-six other works by Lautrec in the April 1902 issue of Le Figaro Illustre, an issue under the editorship of the Galerie Manzi- Joyant and devoted to a celebration of Toulouse- Lautrec's work. The publication date coincided with that year's Salon des Independants (March 29-May 5, 1902), referred to above, where in the central gallery there ap- peared a memorial collection of the artist's paintings, and lithographs. Insofar as they can be identified, nine paint- ings listed in the catalogue were either then owned by Manzi or Joyant, or had recently been sold by their gallery. Many of these were included among the illustra- tions in this issue of Le Figaro Illustre, and presumably paintings such as At the Moulin Rouge, recently turned over to them by Count Toulouse-Lautrec, were among the forty or fifty additional paintings said to have been exhibited hors catalogue at the Salon.24 The other paint- ings illustrated in the special issue of the magazine were exhibited in the large retrospective of 200 works by Lautrec that took place at the Galerie Durand-Ruel from May 14 to May 31, 1902. This exhibition excluded works from the Manzi-Joyant inventory; these may, therefore, have remained available for viewing at their gallery. The selection of paintings at the Salon des Independants and the thirty-seven illustrations all functioned as advertise- ments of gallery inventories at a time when the artist's name continued to attract public curiosity, still only months after his death.

The presentation of Lautrec to the public of 1902 not only served commercial ends but also existed in the con- text of a more encompassing debate concerning the

FIGURE 10 Henri de Toulouse- Lautrec. A Table at the Moulin

Rouge. Photograph published in Le Figaro Illustre, April 1902. Photo:

New York Public Library.

health, or lack of it, of modern art and of the bohemian existence, whether real or imagined, of many contempo- rary artists. Lautrec's death in 1901 was surrounded by sensationalized gossip, fed in part by memories of his confinement to a mental hospital for three months dur- ing 1899. His stay in an asylum for detoxification, his reputation for sexual libertinage, and his association with entertainers of various types sufficed to make the artist's death at the age of thirty-seven a subject of popu- lar conjecture and tongue clucking, particularly when these were combined with the fact that he was "the last descendant of one of France's most noble and oldest families." "He died horribly," summarized the Lyon Re- publicain, "ruined in body and mind, in an insane asylum while subject to periodic fits of raging mad- ness."25 Toulouse-Lautrec's ancestry, physiognomy, life, death, and art-both its content and technique-seemed designed to demonstrate the truth of the then highly popular theories about the degeneracy in modern art and literature propagated by Max Nordau in his book Entar- tung.26 It was to counter the image of Lautrec as an insane artist that Manzi-Joyant published the richly il- lustrated issue of Le Figaro Illustre.

In this carefully orchestrated denial of such charges, in texts alternating between factual description and poetic metaphor, such Parisian critics as Arsene Alexandre (who had befriended Lautrec and had already written defenses of the artist), Julien Leclerq, and Roger Marx, and such German critics as Julius Meier-Graefe, Her- mann Esswein, and Julius Elias, admitted the alcoholism of their hero, but also identified him as a modern Dante who descended into the inferno of Montmartre and in-

cisively depicted what he witnessed. Thus, Alexandre wrote in 1899, "In his thirst for truth, this strange and intrepid small man descended into hell, and his bristling hair was singed [by] the abomination of alcohol." Over his entire oeuvre, Alexandre continued, should be posted the warning inscription of Dante's Inferno: "Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch'entrate! [Abandon all hope, you who enter here!]"27 This argument, which literally detoxified Lautrec by asserting his sanity and his noble nature in the midst of a degenerate milieu, was

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masterfully summed up by Elias in the liberal weekly Die Nation:

They say he was a repulsive dwarf with a horridly large head; and in reality he was only a pitiful boiteux [cripple]. They say he was a slovenly debaucherer, but he was a member of [one of] France's noblest families, was always on the best of terms with his parents, lived in ideal circum- stances that made him financially independent and disdainful of the tainted cash offered by dealers, and he was a noble man in every way: his mannerisms were not without a certain delicacy, and as a conversationalist he was unsur- passed. They go on to say that he lived in brothels and that he habituated the saloons and bars of the Boulevard de

Clichy and of the lower city. We should add that he was a constant patron of the Chat Noir and the cabarets later emulating it, that he was the particular friend of Rodolphe Salis, the chansonnier gentilhomme [gentleman singer], that

he knew the best and least actors personally, that he was welcomed in the boudoirs of the most genial and beautiful actrices and singers. It was in that world that he found his life's element as artist and as thinker. He knew life, and knew best la basse humanite [human lowlife], and this life left its mark on him-one day more harshly than this weak body born of a genetically exhausted nobility could bear. It attacked his nerves first, and he sought the narcotic of strong drink. But then they say: Lautrec died of alcoholism in an insane asylum. In reality, tuberculosis ended his life and he died in the arms of his mother. I was privileged to see a letter written by this loving mother in which she said: ". .. it was astonishing to us to see how, in spite of his illness, his intelligence and the lucidity of his mind remained so extraordinary. It was phthisis that took him away from us." Then, last of all, they say: Lautrec was not a painter! I could claim with just as much justification that in modern Prussia there are no generals.28

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Through a selective denying and affirming of general conceptions about Lautrec, mixed with irony and not a little pathos, the reputation of the man was defended from his attackers. If Lautrec the man could be retrieved

from ignominy by asserting his normality, even his no- bility, in a milieu of depravity, then much the same argu- ment could be effective for his art. Judged by his detrac- tors to be a perverse and pornographic caricaturist, not a true artist or painter, Lautrec was situated by his ad- mirers in a pantheon of artists and writers who recog- nized the bizarre beauty of ugliness. Greek mythology, Shakespeare, Victor Hugo, Baudelaire, and others were cited to establish the sanity of Lautrec's observations, and his art was given an honored genealogy that encom- passed the entire Middle Ages as well as a noble ancestry of individual geniuses:

Is it really necessary to indicate by citing names this series of geniuses, of unique talents, of free spirits in whom was perpetuated [the medieval] judgment-pessimistic, tragic, comic, laughing, loving-of the spectacle of life? Brueghel the Elder in Flanders, Holbein in Germany, Rembrandt in Holland, Michelangelo in Italy, Velasquez and Goya in Spain, the designers of woodcuts in Japan, Daumier in France: none of them hesitated before the horror and the

ugliness that confronted them to express the truth of their observation and the profundity of their thought.29

Safely surrounded by universally praised tradition, Lautrec's example then became a means of attacking the very bourgeois mentality and capitalist society that had been mounting an attack on the artist. Not he, but so- ciety, was decadent, nearing its own demise and an- nouncing its own death. Lautrec was the genius, the nineteenth-century Dante, who depicted this "divine comedy" of a dying century and a dying civilization. The milieu, not the artist, was crippled in body and mind, it was argued with mixed Darwinist and anarcho- socialist conviction, and Montmartre was the site in which was concentrated its modern inferno, "the neu- rosis of perverse orgies, the delerium of weakened senses whipped into arousal, the harsh biting laughter of des- pair drugged by alcohol and racing toward the abyss in a wildly danced chahut."30 Lautrec, the seer, also served as the summation of this declining civilization in the trag- edy of his life: "The fame of his family began in the Provence [during the Middle Ages] and ended between the locales of Aristide Bruant and the Moulin Rouge; between these temporal limits is inscribed the entire organic evolution of a great people's art and culture."31

It is within this context that we should consider At the Moulin Rouge and its transformation. It was given the title Une Table au Moulin Rouge (A Table at the Moulin Rouge) when it was illustrated, physically cropped, in

Le Figaro Illustre, and it was discussed under this title as well a few years later by the German critic Hermann Esswein. Using Lautrec's art as his focus, Esswein en- gaged in an extended discussion of decadence, and the issue of decadence in art, and concluded that it was the milieu, not the art, that deserved the epithet. In his argu- ment, the fragmented At the Moulin Rouge played a pivotal role:

[Lautrec] often ate in the company of these two women and three men about town and at this table they distributed themselves thus, five isolated figures surrounding its tor- turous barrenness, its void surface. But all five of them fail to notice the two female figures behind them to the right, whom only Lautrec sees. Two women, one fixing her hair with a masterful, lifelike gesture as the other, with hands on hips, stares into the room through rigidly glazed, wide open eyes. In these two secondary figures, as well as in the two character types who saunter past the seated group toward the locale's exit, the entire genius of the painter has been brought into focus. This is not just some ingratiating slice of life arbitrarily selected. In this painting we are convinced that the scene fully characterizes the milieu.32

In addition to summarizing the argument against Lautrec's decadence, this account makes clear how dif- ferent the effect of the painting fragment was from that of the entire composition. Closely focused on the table group, with the edges of the painting cropped and re- duced even further as they were folded back around the stretcher for tacking, the abridged composition placed the viewer (or the painter, as Esswein suggested) imme- diately behind Jane Avril, somewhat above her and ap- parently on a platform behind the railing seen at left. At eye level were the four background figures, who thus assumed the significant role attributed to them by Ess- wein. With edges cut close to the figures and with the light green background visually pressing forward, the space in the painting was compressed and collapsed, and the viewer's eye bounced in a claustrophobic circle among the brightly colored faces, hair, and skin of the women over the incommunicative shadows of the men. Viewed in this manner, the fragment is a powerful image in and of itself, and certainly capable of independent presentation, whether seen in formal or psychological terms. It would not be difficult to imagine Lautrec pre- senting it in this fashion as a variation on similar scenes by Degas, whom he admired, as well as on his own At the Moulin de la Galette of 1889.

Although the severed composition would have been effective, and therefore testifies to the artist's sensitivity to composition, it lacks the internal visual logic found in other Lautrec images, whether paintings or prints. Following, in particular, the example of Degas in crea-

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ting works containing unorthodox viewpoints and fre- quently cutting figures with the frame as if it were a physical limit imposed on the field of vision, Lautrec placed great emphasis on establishing the position from which a scene takes on its perspectival coherence. This is most noticeable in his lithographs, whose compositions tend to be bolder than those of his paintings. His con- cern for naturalistic vantage point and perspective seems to affirm allusions to volume and space, which his flat application of color seems to negate; it is in their tension that Lautrec achieved pictorial unity. As already pointed out, in the fragmented painting the viewer/painter would have to be immediately behind and slightly above Jane Avril. If one assumes this vantage point, one should also be looking downward onto her companions. How- ever, this is not the case at all. Instead, the viewer is at about the same height as the profile face of Maurice Guibert, able to see the undersides of the hat brims of La Goulue, Dujardin, and Sescau. The viewer must also move his eyes upward to gaze at the four background figures. It becomes apparent to the viewer, in trying to define where he is in relationship to the table group, that he is, in fact, somewhere to the right of the group, out of the rectangular space of A Table at the Moulin Rouge and directly at eye level with May Milton. The entire scene is plotted so as to appear as if the viewer had just encountered her yellow-green apparition and only then sees to the left the table group and the others in the Moulin Rouge, with its green walls, windows, and ex- panses of mirrors. May Milton is more, then, than a necessary component of the composition; she is the very fulcrum around which the entire composition was con- ceived. She could not have been added in a later rework- ing of the painting; without her, the painting of Lautrec and his friends in the Moulin Rouge lacks any focus. It should also be apparent that, with May Milton as an integral part of the original painting, it could not have been created prior to 1894 or 1895, when the artist met her.

While it is not possible to document that it was not Toulouse-Lautrec who cut down the painting, it is cer- tainly unlikely. Had he done so, surely he would have granted the fragment greater unity and logic. The 1902 photograph, when compared to the painting as it is to- day, does show some alteration, but all of it is concen- trated on erasing the presence of May Milton, not on reshaping the composition so that it gains independence without her. Her right sleeve, which would have re- mained in the rectangle's lower right corner, must have been overpainted with the ocher of the floor and with lines suggesting floorboards. Part of Guibert's coat may also have been touched up in an effort to blend the new paint of the alterations with the old, something that may

have caused the changes in Jane Avril's bentwood chair that are apparent in the photograph, although the latter may be touch-ups on the photograph for the sake of clarification.

Since traces of these changes are not discernible in the painting today, they must have been made in a manner that would have allowed them to be undone later on. It is possible that an easily soluble medium was used, or that the pigments used to cover what remained of May Milton were applied over a coat of varnish. These would be the techniques less of an artist altering his own work than of a restorer who had been instructed to make ad- justments in such a way that the painting could be re- stored to its original state. Thus, Joyant, rather than Lautrec, comes to mind as instigator of the alterations. Had the removal of May Milton taken place by Lautrec's hand, it would have been for unknown personal reasons, as former lovers might edit out the figure of a rejected, or rejecting, love from a photograph. By May 1898, such exorcising of May Milton from his oeuvre had not yet taken place, since Lautrec included her portrait in Goupil's exhibition of his work in London. Shortly thereafter, in January 1899, he was confined for detox- ification. During the two years remaining to him, he developed a painting style quite unlike that of At the Moulin Rouge. There is no evidence of this later mode in the corrections visible in the 1902 photograph. Again, all this suggests a posthumous change in, and entitling of, Toulouse-Lautrec's At the Moulin Rouge. As long as it remained in the artist's possession, May Milton was very much a part of the painting.

We can safely conclude, therefore, that At the Moulin Rouge was cut apart after the painter's death on Sep- tember 9, 1901, and certainly prior to publication of A Table at the Moulin Rouge in the April 1902 issue of Le Figaro Illustre. Similarly, the cutting and restretching must have taken place before the opening of the Salon des Independants on March 29, 1902. The alteration of the painting can be more closely dated to the weeks just after Joyant received the painting in the group of works deeded to him by the artist's father. He himself provided evidence suggesting this. In his book, Joyant described the painting as being signed by the artist with his mono- gram at the lower left of the canvas.33 There is no such signature today, however; instead, what we see is the small red cachet of the artist's encircled monogram which Joyant himself applied as executor of the estate in 1902. Apparently never intending to exhibit it, Lautrec had no reason to sign the painting, and it was left to Joyant to do after it came into his purview. Had the canvas already been divided at that time, the cachet would have been placed onto the rectangular fragment containing the seated figures at table. Instead, on the

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lower left corner of the L-shaped segment that is May Milton's realm, the cachet was stenciled prior to the cut- ting down of the canvas. It is one more factor affirming that At the Moulin Rouge was slit into separate sections under Joyant's immediate direction.

Why would the man who prided himself on being one of Lautrec's staunchest defenders, closest friends, first dealer, and the major authority on his art and life have done this to a work of art he was assigned to preserve? His very emotional involvement with the art and creator may well be the reason. May Milton was, after all, some- one whose brief stay in Paris seems to have left behind it a trail of animosity among those of Lautrec's acquain- tances who chose to write about her. The desire to eradi-

cate her presence in the work of Lautrec must have been strong. Popular and influential, the poster in which she figured could hardly be destroyed, nor could the por- trait in a private collection or on display at the rival gallery of Durand-Ruel be refuted. But the matter was different in a painting never seen before and in which her image seemed peripheral and easily removable from the main body of the picture. Even after he had restored the figure of May Milton to the canvas, Joyant continued denying her presence by identifying her as "Mlle. Nelly C." The effect of denying May Milton her identity was conceptually similar to, although certainly less drastic than, removing her figure from the painting.

To the complex of personal motivations must be added the commercial ones of an art-gallery director. The re- duction of the canvas did not deprive it of commercial value and, in fact, may even have enhanced it. In the climate of repeated charges against Lautrec of insanity, depravity, alcoholism, and general signs of degeneration, the garishly green, yellow, and white face of May Milton was hardly a ready argument for sanity of vision mea- sured in naturalistic terms. During this period, it was precisely the green faces or blue trees made by other artists that were constantly cited as symptomatic of their mental aberration.34 Even if May Milton's bizarre com- plexion derived from a naturalistic rendering of the effects of stagelighting, her discolored, masklike face could certainly have been detrimental to the image of a healthy Lautrec fostered by Manzi-Joyant, and would have been a liability in their inventory. Skillful cuts and minimal reconstructive painting were ready and viable solutions of the gallery for removing the undesirable aspects of one of its major holdings.

If it can be established that At the Moulin Rouge was taken apart during the early months of 1902, after it had entered the inventory of the Galerie Manzi-Joyant, it is less certain precisely when Joyant and Manzi chose to resurrect the original composition. Esswein's description of the smaller painting was published in 1909, sur-

prisingly without an illustration in an otherwise well- illustrated book that made ready use of Manzi-Joyant holdings. Perhaps, by that time, the two parts of the painting were being reunited onto the lining canvas that now supports them. The restoration of the original com- position was certainly completed by the June 1914 retro- spective exhibition sponsored by Manzi-Joyant. At the Moulin Rouge, then owned by Manzi, appeared in the catalogue listing accompanied by the description, "Por- traits of M. Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, of Dr. Tapi6 de Celeyran, Sescau, Maurice Guibert, La Macarona, La Goulue, etc." The "etc." may indicate that May Milton had been reunited with her friends. But again, unfor- tunately, the painting was not illustrated. A photograph of At the Moulin Rouge in its restored state, looking like it does today, did appear two months later, however, as a full-page plate accompanying a lengthy laudatory review of the exhibition in the August 1914 issue of the prestigious, aesthetically conservative art-historical pe- riodical, the Gazette des Beaux-Arts.35 Written by Gus- tave Geffroy, the article announced the ready assimila- tion of May Milton's gaudy face into an art establishment whose sensibilities were being accosted by yet more offensive visages portrayed by Fauvists, Cubists, and Futurists as modern artists increasingly re- jected the essentially mimetic values that Lautrec's art continued to maintain.

The restored painting nonetheless fails to reconstruct fully the composition that Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec painted during the 1890s. David Kolch's analysis of the canvas also revealed that several portions of the canvas on which the image was created are missing, having been removed in the course of the changes of 1902. Originally, At the Moulin Rouge may have been larger in one or both directions. At least the upper edge of the painting shows possible signs of having been trimmed, so that the precise dimensions of Lautrec's original painting can no longer be determined. It is likely, however, that little more than the inch required for a tacking margin would have been cut from the edges. However, within the cur- rent field of the painting, portions of canvas are absent as well: roughly an inch where the lower arm of the L- shaped segment and the bottom of the rectangular frag- ment are joined; and a smaller, erratically sized amount where the two pieces meet vertically (see fig. 11). The gaps, again, are the results of the painting's dismember- ing when a tacking margin was created around the rec- tangular portion seen in the 1902 photograph as it was attached to a stretcher. The process of folding and at- taching naturally would have damaged much of the pe- rimeter of this segment, and the areas that suffered the most loss must have been cut away when the two frag- ments were rejoined. Parts of the right-hand, vertical

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tacking margin, which would have included elements of May Milton's hair and dress, were retained, the holes patched with plaster, and the repair hidden with paint; but the horizontal tacking margin was simply removed, thereby leaving a space between the two segments when they were aligned. To fill in this gap, the two canvas parts were deliberately misaligned in the rejoining by shifting the entire rectangular portion downward an inch in relation to the other section. The resulting disjuncture is most readily visible immediately above and behind the head of May Milton as the border of the ocher wall paneling and the green-hued doors suddenly lifts with- out any justification for it in the architectural details of the room.

That this has never before been noticed was probably due to the manipulations the form of May Milton's odd hat has undergone. As seen in the cover illustration for "Eros Vann6" and in the portrait of May Milton, this hat was composed of a tulle bow from which sprouted two feathers, or rather the denuded rachis of two feathers with all but the tips of their vanes removed so as to result in a form reminiscent of the club antennae common to many beetles. The hat's Art Nouveau insectile reference is clear in the lithograph and the portrait, but in the reconstructed At the Moulin Rouge it has been lost, as the two antennae were incorrectly restored and joined by other, more bulbous or flowerlike forms. These were added by the restorer to disguise the disjuncture of the rejoined canvas segments and to cover parts of the repair process. Also altered to suit the incorrect alignment was the profile of May Milton's hair and the pattern of her collar. In their original form and position, their swirling lines directly joined with the similarly shaped silhouettes of the seated and standing figures so that an Art Nou- veau-like linear pattern moved gracefully through the entire composition, much as in Lautrec's lithographs. And, similarly disrupted were the lines of the floor- boards that originally formed relatively accurate per- spective patterns, as did the balustrade on the left, which now has a sudden bulge near the area of Jane Avril's chair to cover up the misalignment.

The removal of portions of canvas and the misaligned joining of the parts of At the Moulin Rouge disturbed the relaxed and undulating linear unity Lautrec had given his composition, so that May Milton now intrudes more harshly than before, her form angularly juxtaposed to the remainder of the work. This is also due, in part, to the contrast of the garish coloration of her face to the more muted tones dominant elsewhere. This is probably the result of attempts to restore and preserve the contro- versial portion of the painting. The painting today has at least one layer of glazing and probably more. While this serves to unify and protect the paint surface, the glazing

or varnishing of paintings was contrary to Lautrec's practice during the 1890s. Like many other artists of the time, he experimented with various techniques and ma- terials in his painting and also with the resulting surface effects. During the late 1880s, he began to show a prefer- ence for painting with oils thinned with turpentine and sometimes mixed with gouache or crayon on cardboard and, from 1890 to 1894, apparently ceased to use canvas almost totally.36 The choice of a nondurable and non- noble cardboard material on which to represent scenes of caf6, theater, and brothel life surely appealed to Lautrec at a time when many of his friends and support- ers openly espoused political anarchism, with its abso- lute rejection of the existing social order and values.37 Whether or not Lautrec's cardboard paintings were ma- terial manifestations of a socio-anarchist advocacy, with their turpentine-dispersed pigments, they presented a surface quality quite unlike the oily and viscous surfaces of traditional oil paintings or those of the Impres- sionists, especially after varnishing. Paint and turpentine on cardboard creates a more mat surface, in vogue at the time. Lautrec developed a technique in which sheets of thin, subtly nuanced color arranged in veil-like, flatly rendered planes defined his figures. Like the linear pat- terns of the original At the Moulin Rouge, the flat, planar color layers have an effect closely resembling that of his lithographs. Varnish on such a surface would de- stroy the intended effect, and in the process at least some of the colors would also be altered.

All this has happened to At the Moulin Rouge. Al- though painted on canvas, not cardboard (which is, we should note here, material evidence that the painting was created in 1894 or later), the canvas was primed with gesso tinted to take on the color of cardboard, and this brownish tone serves as the color base of much of the painting. The paint applied to this ground is mostly the thinned oil paint Lautrec had used on his cardboard paintings and was likewise intended to melt into its sup- port so as to create a soft, mat surface. The rich yet subtle variations of dark violets and browns that form the coats and dresses of the figures in the painting have also been lost beneath sheets of yellowing glazing.

The face of May Milton appears less affected by this darkening and dulling process than does the remainder of the painting, perhaps because when the rectangular fragment was varnished she escaped that fate. However, the L-shaped section was certainly varnished when it was reattached and when the painting was restored at the Art Institute in 1935.38 The muted colors of the table

group were originally more closely related to the now strong contrast of May Milton's facial colors. The red- dish tones of hair and the whites of the women's skin, the tablecloths, and the reflected lights acted as constant

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FIGURE 11 Hypothetical reconstruction of At the Moulin Rouge (fig. 1).

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accents within the tonal harmonies of greens, ochers, violets, and browns offered by clothing, floor, bal- ustrade, and walls. In that admixture of colors and hues, the limelit face of May Milton alone attracted them all, uniting in its form what is otherwise dispersed through the composition. Thus, she was as crucial to the colora- tion of the painting as to its composition. Joyant's inter- ference with the painting negated the look Lautrec sought to impart to his paintings, a look whose source is the compositional and coloristic practices he developed in his lithographs.

In recent studies and exhibitions devoted to Toulouse-

Lautrec, the preeminence of his lithographs over his paintings has been repeatedly asserted.39 The litho- graphs, it is argued, often derive from one or more painted compositional studies, or even finished paint- ings, so that the artist must have viewed these as purely preliminary to the prints and clearly subordinate to them. More likely, Lautrec rejected any such hierarchy of media. His interest in lithography reflected a desire to extend the meaning and application of art outside the traditional limits of the "fine arts." In being executed on cardboard, the paintings came to participate in the essen- tial temporary and disposable nature of posters or adver- tising brochures such as he designed for Yvette Guilbert. The technique constituted a denial to painting of its tra- ditionally noble and elevated position and function by rejecting the physical components assigned to it, so that even the paint itself was thinned to liquid consistency to take on the quality of lithographer's ink. For Lautrec, paintings and prints devoted to the low life of Montmartre functioned as a visual accusation against the society in which he was relegated by virtue of his hand- icap to the role of eternal child. In At the Moulin Rouge, he expanded his repertory of ink and painted cardboard by applying consistently lessons learned in lithog- raphy-a manner of drawing and the use of large, flat color areas-to the medium of oil paint now on its tradi- tional canvas support, but with a gesso ground tinted the color of cardboard. Rather than being a painting from which lithographs were derived, it is a painting derived from lithographs-a painting almost disguised as a lithograph.

These considerations are useful as we return to the

question of when Lautrec painted At the Moulin Rouge. Joyant's attribution of the painting to 1892, which has been consistently followed until now, no longer can be defended on stylistic grounds, on the use of materials, or iconographically, since May Milton was not part of Lautrec's milieu until 1894 and 1895. Technique also ties the work closely to the manner of other paintings on canvas known to have been created between 1894 and

1896, such as The Salon in the Rue des Moulins (fig. 12)

or Marcelle Lender Dancing the Bolero in "Chilperic" (fig. 13). Painted on canvas prepared with tinted gesso, these too display a concern for broad planes of color and thinned veils of pigment, but not the flowing Art Nou- veau lines of At the Moulin Rouge. The painting was definitely not executed before 1894, nor after 1896, when Lautrec assumed a style of greater sketchiness and loose brushwork. It is most likely that At the Moulin Rouge was painted late in 1894 or, more probably, in 1895.

This revised dating gives the image a different position in Lautrec's life than previously assumed. By grouping At the Moulin Rouge with other Moulin Rouge paintings of 1892, Joyant distorted the painting's position in Lautrec's career. The effort to extract May Milton may underlie this move, but the commercial virtue of a paint- ing capping an already successful suite of paintings pre- viously sold to collectors surely must also have been a consideration. Placed back into the milieu of 1895, the painting takes on different, and possibly more signifi- cant, connotations for Lautrec and the development of his work. If 1892 represented the renewal of the Moulin Rouge as noted dancers and singers were hired away from other music halls, by 1895 this energy was fading. La Goulue and others who had brought fame to the locale were leaving or had already gone. La Goulue set out to present her belly dances and can-cans at local fairs, and invited Lautrec to provide the exterior of her booth with paintings.40 Possibly, this commercial pro- duction of publicity images on canvas for La Goulue reawakened in Lautrec an interest in painting on canvas, while the scenes he executed depicting La Goulue's "Moorish Dance" and her performance at the Moulin Rouge that was admired by Jane Avril, Maurice Guibert, Paul Sescau, Tapie de Celeyran, and Lautrec-all repre- sented in At the Moulin Rouge-served as inspiration for creating his own private image of a milieu whose dissolution was imminent. Thus, At the Moulin Rouge is a memorial image that is a composite of past activity and of prior depictions by Lautrec of the persons participat- ing in the scene.

Indeed, the practice of utilizing previous composi- tions and portions of compositions is one Lautrec fa- vored in his lithographs; as we have said, his painted images and printed derivatives could be separated by years. At the Moulin Rouge demonstrates the same prac- tice. The figure of Jane Avril seen from the back relates to the poster of Le Divan Japonais from 1892-93, as well as to the two oil sketches that more precisely duplicate the pose, both probably from 1893 or 1894. The face of May Milton is an adaptation of her painted portrait, possibly also done in 1895 while Lautrec worked on her poster, but is stylistically related to works of 1894 as well. The face of La Macarona in turn derives from

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FIGURE 12 Henri de Toulouse- Lautrec. The Salon in the Rue

des Moulins, 1895. Oil on canvas, 111.8 x 132.8 cm. Albi, France, Musee Toulouse-Lautrec.

FIGURE 13 Henri de Toulouse-

Lautrec. Marcelle Lender Dancing the Bolero in "Chilperic," 1895/96. Oil on canvas; 145.4 x 150.2 cm.

New York, collection of Mrs. John Hay Whitney. Photo: John D.

Schiff, New York.

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Rediscovering Lautrec

FIGURE 14 Henri de Toulouse-

Lautrec. La Macarona as a Jockey, 1894. Oil and gouache on card-

board; 51.8 x 38.7 cm. The Art Institute of Chicago (1954.22).

Lautrec's portrait of her as a jockey, published in the February 1894 issue of Le Figaro Illustre (fig. 14); the costume was changed, but the white face covered with rice powder and with heavily colored features remains the same. Dujardin's characteristic profile reverses that seen in the Divan Japonais poster. Sescau and Guibert appear either separately or together in several paintings, any of which might have presented a model portrait, but photographs too might have been used, just as one of Toulouse-Lautrec in the company of his cousin Tapie de Celeyran at the Moulin Rouge (fig. 15) surely was the source of their grouping in the background.

In 1890, Lautrec represented many of the members of his milieu in the painting showing the dancer Valentin le Desoss6 teaching the quadrille naturaliste to a new dancer at the Moulin Rouge; At the Moulin Rouge: The Dance (fig. 16), exhibited at the Salon des Independants and then publicly displayed in the foyer of the Moulin Rouge itself, is in many ways the antithesis of the Chi- cago picture. The 1890 painting was a public one in every sense, depicting the entertainment at the caf6-concert and dance hall along with the audience that participated vicariously in the energetic spectacle of the dancers. The raucous gaity and movement, the anonymous intermin- gling of people seen in that painting contrast sharply with the private world of the later work where women and men sit, stand, or saunter silently, without com- munication or focus, in isolation one from the other. They are gathered together in a scene of personal and sexual tension in an atmosphere of anxious ennui; both dancers have ceased performing and their male admirers have lost interest. In fact, the powerful motion and focal attraction of May Milton's figure and face, pushing out of the framed limits of the painting, threatens to pull the entire composition off the canvas itself.

In this way, May Milton functions in a manner con- trary to figures situated at the periphery of other Lautrec paintings, where they are seen walking into an interior or acting as enframing and stabilizing elements (see fig. 16). Likewise, similar yet different from the group in other Lautrec paintings are the men and women seated at the table and staring blankly past each other. Uncom- municative figures seated and drinking in a cafe, with or

without dancers or singers providing entertainment above and behind them, had become a virtual trademark of the "painters of modern life" from Manet, the Im- pressionists, and Degas to less adventurous but suc- cessful artists such as Jean Franqois Raffaelli (also cham- pioned by Arsene Alexandre, incidentally). Lautrec adopted such scenes as he began to explore the world of Montmartre entertainment, first in illustrations for periodicals such as Aristide Bruant's Le Mirliton, or the more popular Courrier Frantais and Paris Illustree dur- ing 1886-89, and then in paintings exhibited at the Sa- lons des Independants beginning in 1890. They func- tioned essentially as images that presented a young artist with a persona established in an association of style and subject matter that countered the world of artistic and social propriety with an adopted argot and a posture of

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perpetual antagonism and cynicism. As Lautrec "de- scended" into Montmartre's music and dance halls, it had become the site of artistic, literary, and musical bohemias advertising themselves under the names of Hydropathes, Incoherents, Hirsutes, and Zutistes. They occupied the Parisian "mountain" as if it were a "venge- ful and clamorous citadel from which projectiles [rained] heavily onto the pontifs of the boulevards and onto the mummies of the Academy."41 Along with poets and art- ists came professional entertainers, dancers, and singers to replace the unpaid amateurs or semiprofessionals of the Moulin de la Galette or the Elys6e Montmartre. When the Moulin Rouge opened in 1889, many of the most popular performers, previously amateurs or part- time dancers, were hired and efforts made to entice the

FIGURE 16 Henri de Toulouse-

Lautrec. At the Moulin Rouge: The Dance, 1890. Oil on canvas; 116.8 x 152.4 cm. Philadelphia Museum

of Art.

bourgeois and upper-class patrons who had mixed with the more plebian inhabitants of Montmartre at the other cafes-concerts. Toulouse-Lautrec's painting of the dance at the Moulin Rouge and his other images of the dance hall's entertainment and entertainers publicized and cele- brated not so much a vulgar, proletarian world as one that was becoming socially acceptable, a place where bourgeois and aristocrat could experience anti-bourgeois and anti-aristocratic plebian entertainment. It was a demimonde straddling professionalism and amateurism, respectability and vulgarity, the upper-middle and lower classes. This was a perfect setting for an aristocratic painter who could share in the world of the entertainers without being part of it, could indulge in alcoholic ex- cess without suffering its financial consequences, could paint without needing to sell his art, and could adopt the role of commercial lithographer despite his financial in- dependence in an existence balanced between reality and amusement.

At the Moulin Rouge represents a private world, not a public one. Here, the entertainers and the entertained fuse their existences, at a moment when they are about to be forced apart. Lautrec would frequent the Moulin Rouge less and less and instead would become part of the more sedate realm of literati and artists associated

with Thadee Natanson's periodical La Revue Blanche. The Montmartre dance halls, too, continued their move- ment toward respectability and professionalism as innu- merable imitating institutions appeared in Paris and else- where to draw away more and more of the audience and performers. The entertainers went on tour, collected governmental awards, and signed contracts with the newly fashionable Olympia music hall. By the mid-1890s, the Montmartre Lautrec had celebrated and whose image he had propagated was dying. At the

FIGURE 15 Photograph of Toulouse-Lautrec and Tapie de Celeyran at the Moulin Rouge, c. 1894. Photo: M.G. Dortu, Toulouse-Lautrec et son oeuvre (New York, 1971), vol. 1, p. 98.

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Moulin Rouge seems to have been painted by him to memorialize this world, which had embraced him. He consciously entered this "inferno" in rejection of his aristocratic background and values, but his entry was made possible only by his social status and his continu- ing reliance on it. Emerging from the private realm of Lautrec's memories, At the Moulin Rouge is a devotional image that immortalized this milieu just as it ceased to exist. Joyant's manipulation of Lautrec's image deprived it of its function as a document of this passing away. The Moulin Rouge was no longer for Lautrec a place of joy, abandon, and easy pleasure in which La Goulue danced her provocative chahut while circling on slender legs, her skirts hiked, her face a mask of overt sensuality. This artificial, exciting world of makeup and movement, sex

and alcohol came to a disturbing halt in the painting At the Moulin Rouge and was replaced by a silent ennui and separation, by rumors of forbidden attachments and bit- ter separations. The painting is the melancholy counter- point to the painted chahuts in other works, a pictorial equivalent to the song of the Moulin Rouge:

On the mount of Martyrs I grind down dreams and harmony. I grind down gold and remorse, Redemption and shame I grind down a better future.42

It is an image the myth of Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec and commercial concerns sought to destroy.

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NOTES

1. For the exhibition history of At the Moulin Rouge, see M.G. Dortu, Toulouse-Lautrec et son oeuvre (New York, 1971), vol. 2, p. 258, entry for painting no. 427. Hereafter, all paintings by Lautrec will be identified according to Dortu's numbering: (P.) and the number.

2. Maurice Joyant, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, 1864-1901 (Paris, 1926-27), vol. 2, p. 133.

3. Dortu (note 1), vol. 2, p. 258, identified Manzi as the first owner, as did Joyant (note 2), vol. 1, p. 275. Neither indicated the date of acquisition, but evidence to be discussed later in this article identifies the painting as part of Lautrec's estate in 1902.

4. Paris, March 29-May 5, 1902. It was not listed in the cata- logue, which includes the following works by Lautrec: 1025, Scene de theatre; 1026, Etude d'acrobate; 1027, Nu; 1028, Por- trait; 1029, Portrait; 1030, Femme en peignoir; 1031, Les Am- bassadeurs; 1032, Femme en clown; 1033, Jeanne [sic] Avril; 1034, Lithographies. Joyant (note 2), vol. 2, p. 255, noted that at the Salon was a "retrospective of H. de Toulouse-Lautrec. The catalogue does not contain titles. About 50 to 60 num- bers." However, as seen here, the catalogue did contain titles, but of far fewer than fifty to sixty works, and it is likely that this inventory of paintings was expanded to include newly available paintings. See text, p. 122, for discussion of this.

5. Dortu (note 1), vol. 2, p. 258; Joyant (note 2), vol. 1, p. 275. The 1914 exhibition at the Galerie Manzi-Joyant consisted of 201 works; the catalogue, Exposition retrospective de l'oeuvre de Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1864-1901) (Paris, 1914), with an introduction by Arsine Alexandre, listed At the Moulin Rouge as no. 32.

6. Dortu (note 1), mentioned an exhibition of French art in Barcelona in 1917, with the painting cited as no. 2038, but it has not been possible to confirm this exhibition.

7. Neither Dortu (note 1) nor Joyant (note 2) identified exhibi- tions of At the Moulin Rouge prior to that of 1914 (see note 5). However, in Toulouse-Lautrec en Belgique (Paris, 1955), Dortu, M. Grillard, and J. Adh6mar suggested that the paint- ing was included at the ninth Les Vingt exhibition under the title Nocturne (see Les XX Bruxelles: Catalogue des dix exposi- tions annuelles [Brussels, 1981], p. 272, no. 7). No evidence for this bizarre identification is provided. Currently, we do not know what painting, drawing, or lithograph (the catalogue fails to distinguish among them) may have been entitled Nocturne in Brussels, but it was certainly not At the Moulin Rouge, since, as this article will demonstrate, the painting did not yet exist in February 1892. In matching At the Moulin Rouge with the titles of Lautrec

paintings in exhibitions during his lifetime, the sole possible identification is with Un Coin du Moulin Rouge, exhibited at the seventh exhibition of Peintres Impressionistes et Sym- bolistes, which opened at Le Barc de Boutteville in Paris on July 10, 1894. The exhibition has previously not been consid- ered in the literature on Lautrec, so no effort to identify this

painting has been made. As with the Brussels Nocturne, how- ever, a precise identification is currently not possible. One cannot deny unequivocably that At the Moulin Rouge was this painting, but it is highly unlikely. Stylistic, technical, and icon- ographic reasons for this will be considered in the course of this article, but here it should be noted that the title is not one that fits the painting well, whereas other paintings of the time could more readily fit the title's description. Also, all other paintings exhibited by Lautrec at this time bear his signature, while At the Moulin Rouge does not, displaying only the stamp of his estate. The proof is circumstantial, not absolute, but argues strongly that the painting was not exhibited either in 1894 or earlier. Between 1894 and Lautrec's death, no exhibited work can be identified with At the Moulin Rouge.

8. Joyant (note 2), vol. 1, pp. 274-75.

9. The suite of four Moulin Rouge paintings exhibited by Joyant at Goupil's in 1893 can be identified as follows: Jane Avril Entering the Moulin Rouge (Dortu [note 1], P417); La Goulue at the Moulin Rouge (Dortu [note 1], P422); La Goulue Entering the Moulin Rouge (Dortu [note 1], P423); At the Moulin Rouge: The Waltzing Couple (Dortu [note 1], P.428).

10. Joyant (note 2), vol. 1, pp. 137-39.

11. Ibid., p. 138. Joyant had already similarly described the painting's subjects in his 1914 exhibition catalogue. See Exposi- tion retrospective ... (note 5), no. 32.

12. Much of what we know concerning the dancers and singers of Montmartre is due to Joyant and other acquaintances of Lautrec such as Gustave Cocquiot. One of the major prob- lems, however, with our knowledge of Lautrec and his milieu is our dependence on such reminiscences, which tend to be highly subjective with an emphasis on colorful anecdote rather than consistent biography. Too frequently, as well, these "rem- iniscences" failed to be published until a half century after Lautrec's death, so that their reliability can be questioned. Among the first to write such a study of Lautrec and his work was Cocquiot, in Lautrec (Paris, 1913) and its revised version, Lautrec ou quinze ans de moeurs parisiennes (Paris, 1921). The context in which this type of approach to Lautrec developed is discussed later in this article.

13. Joyant (note 2), vol. 1, p. 139.

14. The identification of "Mlle. Nelly C." as May Milton was first made by Charles Stuckey and Naomi Maurer, Toulouse- Lautrec: Paintings, exh. cat., The Art Institute of Chicago (1979), pp. 187, 247.

15. Joyant (note 2), vol. 1, p. 288; Dortu (note 1), vol. 3, p. 348, P.572.

16. Joyant (note 2), vol. 1, p. 198.

17. Cocquiot, Lautrec ou quinze ans... (note 12), pp. 154-55.

18. "Trts vieux, malgr6 mes vingt ans/Use blas6; car je suis nd/Sur un lit de roses fan~es/Et je suis un Eros vann6!" Maurice Donnay, "Eros Vann " (Paris, 1894), n.pag. See also

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Rediscovering Lautrec

the discussion of this poem by Wolfgang Wittrock in Toulouse- Lautrec: The Complete Prints (London, 1985), vol. 1, p. 31. 19. See note 1.

20. Douglas Cooper, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (New York, 1956), p. 96.

21. Gale B. Murray, review of M.G. Dortu's Toulouse-Lautrec et son oeuvre (note 1), in The Art Bulletin 58, 1 (Mar. 1978), pp. 179-82.

22. Stuckey and Maurer (note 14), p. 187.

23. David Kolch's memo to Reinhold Heller, Jan. 23, 1986, summarizes the findings.

24. See note 3.

25. As cited by Joyant (note 2), vol. 2, pp. 129-30.

26. The first of several French editions of Nordau's book was published in Paris in 1894 as Degenerescence.

27. Arsine Alexandre, "Une Guerison," Le Figaro (Mar. 30, 1899), as cited by Joyant (note 2), vol. 2, p. 124.

28. Julius Elias, "Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec," Die Nation 19, 51 (Sept. 21, 1901), pp. 809-901. Also compare Arsine Alex- andre, "Toulouse-Lautrec," Le Figaro Illustre 20, 145 (April 1902), p. 2: "It is possible, in Paris, to be at once a celebre and unknown. Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec has become one of the most striking examples of this misconception between public opinion and the actual person."

29. Gustave Geffroy, "Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1894-1901)," Gazette des Beaux-Arts, ser. 4, 12 (Aug. 1914), p. 89.

30. Erich Klossowski, Die Maler von Montmartre, vol. 15 of Die Kunst, ed. R. Muther (Berlin, 1903), p. 52.

31. Elias (note 28), p. 901.

32. Hermann Esswein and A.W. Heymel, Toulouse-Lautrec, vol. 3 of Moderne Illustratoren (Munich, 1909), p. 36.

33. Joyant (note 2), vol. 2, p. 250.

34. Compare Edvard Munch's complaint of 1891: "[People] do not believe that these impressions, these instant sensations, could contain even the smallest grain of sanity. If a tree is red or blue, or a face is blue or green, they are sure that is insanity."

Cited in Reinhold Heller, Munch: His Life and Work (Chi- cago, 1984), p. 65.

35. Geffroy (note 29), between pp. 100 and 101.

36. Joyant (note 2), vol. 2, p. 66, was surely mistaken in dating Lautrec's interest in the technique to an exhibition of paintings by Raffailli in 1890, since his use of the turpentine-thinned oil paint on cardboard appears at least as early as his studies for the illustrations of the essay "L'Ete ' Paris" by Emile Michelet, published in Paris Illustree, July 7, 1888, pp. 426-27.

The following paintings on canvas, traditionally dated to the years of 1893 and 1894, should be attributed to different years, either earlier or later, when the stylistic characteristics and techniques they display appear in other works by Lautrec:

Monsieur Boileau (Dortu [note 1], P.465); The Loge at Mas- caron Dore (Dortu [note 1], P.470); Man, Woman and Dog

(Dortu [note 1], P.494); Doctor Tapi' de Celeyran in a The- ater Aisle (Dortu [note 1], P.521); In the Salon of the Rue des Moulins (Dortu [note 1], P.559); In the Salon of the Rue des Moulins (Dortu [note 1], P.560).

The fact that they correspond to lithographic compositions or biographic events of the years 1893-94 does not preclude their having been painted earlier or later. In fact, given Lautrec's habits, it is likely that the dates of paintings do not correspond to such external factors at all.

37. Among critics praising Lautrec's work and also advocating the principles of anarchism were Arsene Alexandre and Gus- tave Geffroy. See John Rewald, Post-Impressionism: From van Gogh to Gauguin, 3d ed. (New York, 1978), p. 141.

38. Portions of the painting had lost paint and were blistering, particularly the face of Sescau, which was heavily retouched. (As noted in the files of the Department of Conservation, The Art Institute of Chicago, 1935.)

39. See particularly Wittrock (note 18).

40. Joyant (note 2), vol. 1, pp. 84-86.

41. Michel Herbert, La Chanson a Montmartre (Paris, 1967), p. 65.

42. Maurice Boukay, "Le Moulin Rouge," as cited by Klos- sowski (note 30), p. 49: "Sur la montagne des Martyrs/Je mouds le reve et l'harmonie/Je mouds l'or et les repentirs/Le rachat et l'ignominie/Je mouds un avenir meilleur."

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