Contemporary artistic creations in the 19th century were traditionally presented in the Salon Carré of the Louvre, during an exhibition called ‘Salon de l’Académie des Beaux-Arts’ held every two or three years, then every year from 1833 onwards. Any living painter could apply, but a jury composed of members of the Académie des Beaux-Arts (Academy of Fine Arts) decided who was accepted, and did not always look favourably on works that went against tradition. Critics paid close attention to these exhibitions: Heinrich Heine, Théophile Gautier, Charles Baudelaire and the Goncourt brothers all left precise, detailed descriptions of the paintings, sculptures and drawings that were presented to a considerable audience, as Parisians of the time were very fond of contemporary art.
The Salon was so popular with crowds that artists submitted many pieces, determined to participate. The jury therefore had to turn many of them down, most often because of their mediocrity. Honoré Daumier here makes sport of the reaction of one of these artists, who slashes his canvas in his rage at not having been selected. The caption ‘Ungrateful homeland, you will not have my work’ refers to the purchase of some works at the Salon for the Royal Museum, an honour most artists aspired to.
A painter, identified by long hair, a wide-brimmed hat and his hands in his pockets, talks to one of his peers. But since clothing is not enough to make the artist, these two characters visit a Salon from which their works have obviously been rejected—their judgment of this exhibition is commensurately harsh! The engraving shows a considerable attendance that speaks to the popularity of contemporary art at the beginning of the 19th century. The proximity of the paintings to each other is notable; this allowed more to be put on display, but made it difficult to show them off. It was nearly impossible to properly see the works hanging high in the corners, such that each work’s placement reflects the jury’s true preferences.
The Salon was such a popular event for Parisians that illustrators liked to sketch the scenes that repeated each year: the amazement of the bourgeoisie, the weariness of the visitors, the words of children, the sharp opinions of bearded and dishevelled painters, people arguing about the works… The Salon was an exhibition, but it was also a show.
“Whenever you have gone to take a serious look at the exhibition of works of sculpture and painting, such as it has been since the Revolution of 1830, have you not been seized by a sense of uneasiness, weariness, sadness, at the sight of those long and over-crowded galleries? Since 1830, the true Salon no longer exists. The Louvre has again been taken by assault—this time by a rabble of artists who have stayed on there.
In other days, when the Salon presented only the choicest works of art, it conferred the highest honour on the creations there exhibited. Among the two hundred paintings selected, the public could still choose: a crown was awarded to the masterpiece by hands unseen. Eager, impassioned discussions arose about this or that picture. The abuse showered on Delacroix, on Ingres, contributed no less to their fame than the praises and fanaticism of their adherents. Today, neither the crowd nor the criticism grows impassioned about the products of this bazaar. Forced to make the selection for itself, which in former days the examining jury made for it, the attention of the public is soon wearied and the exhibition closes.“
Balzac, Pierre Grassou, 1839 (Translation Katharine Prescott Wormeley)
“To say nothing of those artists rejected, the Salon is lacking many masters. Mr Ingres, who takes even the highest praise as criticism, does not want to face the harsh light of the Louvre; Delaroche no longer exhibits; Ary Scheffer, Gleyre, Schnetz, Amaury Duval, Decamps, Cabat, Aligny, Jules Dupré and Meissonier have all abstained. Well, despite all these absences—voluntary or not—the young French school has in its veins a blood so vividly crimson that no void is felt! — Uno avulso, non deficit alter; students take the place of the masters with dignity and, frankly, it might not be wise for the masters to stay too long out of the ring. After a time, they may come back to find that they are met with skill that matches their own, and comes with more youthful vigour.
This exhibition, which lacks the appeal of most of the famous names, is no less interesting for that reason. Critics, less distracted by celebrities, will be able to look at modest talents and shine light on some new personalities.”
Théophile Gautier, Salon de 1847