Sculpture Studio

You are now entering the studio where Émile Antoine Bourdelle settled down, soon after his arrival in the Impasse du Maine in 1885, and where he worked for over 40 years, until his death.

This space includes architectural features typical of an artist’s studio from the late 19th century. Look at the impressive high ceiling and large north-facing windows: they evenly distribute sunlight across the whole room. The cast iron stove used to warm the place, which was damp due to the clay, sculpting stands were supporting artworks in progress and a grinding machine was used to sharpen the tools. Given the weight of the materials, sculptor’s  studios were traditionallly located on the ground floor. The only thing missing here is Bourdelle himself and his team of assistants and practitioners, who were tasked with carving marble blocks.

Did you notice the mezzanine? It is a distinctive feature of the studio. Bourdelle used to sleep there in the early days of his career, which explains why fabric has been installed on the railing to conceal the private space. He used to store his artworks in display cases and set up his copying press there. This press was used to copy documents before the invention of photocopiers! The mezzanine also provided the sculptor with a convenient vantage point to examine his monumental artworks from above.

Up until the First World War, Bourdelle designed his masterpieces in this room: Head of Apollo, Torso of Pallas in marble, Hercules the Archer, Carpeaux at Work, Dying Centaur…

Slowly, Bourdelle started taking over the surrounding workshops. This first studio then became a studiolo, a study ideally suited for meditating, drawing, or having conversations. There, the artist received personnalities from the whole world , and sometimes modelled their busts.

Upon the artist’s death in October 1929, the studio was turned into a sanctuary. Most of the artworks and items from Bourdelle’s collection were left in their place. Dying Centaur, one of his most iconic artworks, was placed in the center of the room. You could almost think that the sculptor had just left. Everything has been meticulously preserved:  the Hungarian point floorboards, the paneling, the colour of the walls, the traces  of successive layouts (nails), the signs of time (cracks) and even Bourdelle’s own graffiti on the walls! The restoration work undertaken in 2022 was an opportunity to consolidate the building, stabilise flakes of paint on the walls, restore the artworks, and replace the damaged textiles. 

Romanian Woman and modelling

Romanian Woman is one of the most beautiful female busts made by Antoine Bourdelle, inspired by one of his student at the Académie de la Grande Chaumière, Fanny Moscovici. Moscovici also worked as a practitioner in his studio for three years, from 1925 to 1928.

This artwork in unbaked clay was modelled by the artist on a metal frame coated with plaster. Come closer and look at the small clay balls flattened under the sculptor’s thumb. The parallel lines here are marks left by what is called a ribbed loop tool, used to work on clay. The artwork was still damp when it was moulded, in order to cast a more robust plaster copy. The clay was damaged during this operation, but Bourdelle still wanted to keep it. During the drying process, the clay shrunk and this caused many cracks to appear. This artwork stands as a rare and fragile testimony of the original modelling born from the artist’s hand. Bourdelle especially liked the suppleness of clay and the fact that it allowed him to work quickly: “Life is short, you must hurry to make your work,” as he used to say.

Simu and the pointing process

Bourdelle made the portrait of Anastase Simu, a collector and founder of the Romanian Modern Art Museum in Bucharest, who bought Bourdelle sculptures for the museum’s collection. This first marble statue was left unfinished in the studio, probably due to unsufficient depth in the back of the block. Besides the marble, you can examine the plaster cast that was used as reference during the carving process, using the pointing technique. This technique consisted in setting small pyramids topped with nails, called base points. These points were set on both sides of the base and at the top of the head, forming a triangle in space. They supported the nails of the pointing machine – a copy of which can be found in the nearby techniques room.

The points drawn on the plaster model acted as references to precisely determine the shape of the artwork. Each point was then transposed onto the roughed-out marble block, thanks to the articulated arm of the machine. On the unfinished marble, we can clearly see the holes made during the transfer of points, which were to be abraded in the final stages.

There is another unfinished marble statue in the studio, the Bust of Henriette Vaïsse-Cibiel. This time, the artist probably abandonned the marble block due to its defects, replacing it with a stone of better quality.

Wall of Casts

Plaster reproductions allowed artists to study reference sculptures, in order to muse on them or draw inspiration from them. They were made by casting a mould from the original artwork. Every drawing school or school of fine arts had its own collection of casts, mostly comprised of artworks from Antiquity or the Renaissance, for educational purposes. Artist’s collections were quite different: elaborated according to their tastes, discoveries, and travels, it is unique and personal. Bourdelle’s collection shows the wide range of his inspirations. If antique references were commonplace, medieval artworks were more unexpected.

In 1907-1908, Bourdelle had already set three plaster casts on the wall of his studio: two Greek artworks, the Head of Horse from the Parthenon and the Apollo of Thera, a gift from Rodin, as well as a medieval statue, the Head of King David from Reims cathedral, placed on a capital.

Later on, he added the head of Michelangelo’s Dying Slave, Two Figures from the Prambanan temple in Indonesia, a Buddhist relief, and medieval artworks from Vézelay, Chartres, and most of all Reims – notably the famous Smiling Angel.

Armchair and rustic furniture

Located under the windows of the studio, this neo-Gothic armchair was carved by Bourdelle’s father, a cabinet maker and wood carver. Thanks to him, Bourdelle learned to copy ancient furniture in his youth. Through this, he gained a sense of architecture, which helped him understand the structure of an artwork. Soon after his arrival in Paris, Bourdelle made his parents move in with him, despite his limited resources. His father carried on his business in the Impasse du Maine until the age of 82. The artist preciously kept several seats made by his father. He asked great personnalities of this world to pose for him on them, like the president of the Argentinian Republic Marcelo de Alvear.

From 1917 on, Bourdelle’s financial situation allowed him to fill his studio with beautiful old furniture, like the church stalls or the credence with neo-Gothic pannels located under the mezzanine. True to his rural and humble roots, he combined them with more rustic pieces of traditional furniture, like the Breton cupboard with circular motifs , the Gothic cabinet, or the large rustic table.

Sculpture stands and plinths

The studio displays a wide range of sculpture stands. Thanks to their rotating tops, the sculptor could turn the artwork and model it on all sides. The height of the top was often adjustable with a screw or a rack and pinion. Originally intended for work, the sculpture stands were regularly used as plinths by Bourdelle to display his sculptures.

He paid special attention to the harmony between an artwork and its plinth, because they both had to “balance their volumes and harmonise their profiles.” He did not hesitate to display his artworks on ancient plinths that had caught his eye. He accumulated a great variety of supports and assembled them in his own personnal way. For instance, he placed a Corinthian capital on a wooden column, a millstone on a granite cylinder, or even a four-headed Romanesque capital on a square pillar. He even created plinths from scratch, like the plinth of Spirits with Mask, displayed by the wall opposite the windows. He adorned it with two low reliefs designed for the Théâtre des Champs-Elysées. This hybrid item is at the same time a pedestal and an artwork!

Bourdelle’s medieval collection

Over time, Antoine Bourdelle gathered a collection of ancient artworks uncovered at antique dealers, and mixed in with his own creations across the studios.

Prior to 1910, he hung from the mezzanine his Great Christ on the Cross in wood from the 14th century. Ten years later, he added two carved wood beams, acquired during a trip to Brittany. On one of them, can be seen angels and on the other one, a monk fighting a dragon. On top of them, he put two busts from the 14th century, a Virgin and a Bishop, in polychrome wood.

Among the stone statues of his collection, you may notice an acephalous sculpture – meaning with no head – of Saint Catherine from the late 15th century , as well as a Virgin Nursing the Child from the 14th century, where only the nourishing breast is shown. Its synthetic nature, geometric drapery, and sharp curve of the hip are all in keeping with the formal research of the sculptor and resonate with his Saint Barbara.
A painted keystone from Lorraine from the 14th century portrays the Trinity, with God, Christ on the Cross and the Holy Spirit as a dove.

These artworks demonstrate Bourdelle’s taste for medieval sculpture and polychromy – as himself liked to add colour to his own plaster casts.

Armless Self-Portrait

Move closer to the wall opposite the windows. There, you will discover a statuette made by Antoine Bourdelle as a self-portrait, displayed on the plinth of Spirits with Mask. Bourdelle is seen wearing his famous corduroy suit, which was then the workman’s uniform. This way, he portrayed himself as a craftsman, proud of his roots, who believed that work was a virtue. Stocky (he was 1.58 m in height), head leaning forward like a ram’s, bushy beard, bulging forehead – he seems to be lost in his own creative thoughts.

This figure modelled around 1907-1908 is reminicent of Rodin’s Walking Man, which had just received critical acclaim at the 1907 Salon, or of Matisse’s Serf. It may seem strange that a sculptor would portray himself without arms, as if unable to work. But for Bourdelle, hands were not what made a sculptor, the mind was. His lack of arms, and subsequently of gesture, brings into focus the forehead and the thoughtful expression on his face. The artist depicted himself during the primordial stage of an artwork’s creation, its mental conception. As he often repeated to his students, to create, you have to cultivate your mind, which will lead your hand.

Dying Centaur

Dying Centaur is one of Antoine Bourdelle’s major artworks. The man-horse is dying in a magnificent tension. His torso is soaring towards the sky, while his head drooping over his shoulder and his still quivering beastly body are caving in. His outstretched arm is holding the lyre, as if for one last song. So many regrets in this mythical being breathing his last breath.

Because Bourdelle considered this mythological being as his double. He often portrayed himself as a centaur, perfect embodiment of the artist by his hybrid nature, both human and beastly, but also an allegory of Mind controlling Matter.

Upon the death of the sculptor in 1929, his widow Cléopâtre organised a reposing room in the studio, where students, friends and personalities – joined by many strangers – came to pay their respects. The Centaur then returned to the studio where he had been created. His head leaning over the coffin, he seemed to weep for his creator. The artist is dead, but he remains alive in his creation. Through some sort of transfiguration, the Centaur now embodies Bourdelle – his very presence within the studio. He has become the guardian of the sanctuary.

Torso of Pallas

Pallas – meaning “young girl” in Greek – is one of the names used to qualify the goddess Athena, the warrior virgin pictured here. In 1903, Bourdelle modelled in clay a life-sized female torso, crowned with a head of harsh demeanour, seemingly hiding a portrait. This work stands as a major milestone in the evolution of Bourdelle’s production. It revealed the artist’s admiration for the simplified volumes of archaic Greek sculpture. Look at the shapes of her bust, thighs and arms. The entire statue perfectly fits inside a cylinder. This geometrical construction owes much to Cézanne. The broken edges of the arms are an allusion to antique fragments. Monolithic, virginal, and concise, the marble sculpture of Pallas is truly the torso of a goddess!

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