The avant-garde artist, an entrepreneur? Jan Toorop and Les XX's exhibition at the Haagsche Kunstkring

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The Avant-garde Artist,

an Entrepreneur?

Jan Toorop and Les XX‟s exhibition

at the Haagsche Kunstkring

Valérie Alexine Lewis 8 May 2015

Supervisor: Mw. dr. R. Esner

Second Reader: Dhr. dr. G.M. Langfeld

Universiteit van Amsterdam Faculteit der Geesteswetenschappen Masters Dutch Art Word count: 19.123

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Cover page: Portrait of Jan Toorop by Antoon Molkenboer drawn in the society album of the Haagsche Kunstkring. GAG, The Hague, archives of the HKK, No. 262, folder 41.

Foreword

Throughout this research many people have advised, supported, and encouraged me. I would like to thank all, and a few in particular. First of all, my supervisor Rachel Esner, who has given me insights and ideas to work on and always found a spare moment to answer my questions or help me out in case of doubt. She also handed me several important contacts, who, in their turn, provided me with new entries to deepen my research: Dr. Jan Dirk Baetens, Drs. Mayken Jonkman, and Noémie Goldman, thank you.

Secondly, I would like to thank my boyfriend Zeno Koenigs and my friends, who were all keen to hear my newest discoveries and appreciated my enthusiasm, despite their lack of knowledge in Art History. They were great library companions, right until closing hour, and served as good coffee-buddies.

Last of all, I would like to express my gratitude to both of my parents, who have supported me and have given valuable advice throughout its (sometimes seemingly eternal) process.

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A:

Solo exhibitions of Jan Toorop (when still alive). 69 B: Exhibitions in which Jan Toorop took part. 71 C: Letter from Toorop to Sala, Tuesday undated, No. 25. 75 D: Letter from Toorop to J.E. Langelaan-Rutgers, 17 March 1901. 76 E: List of exhibitions at Haagsche Kunstkring in which Toorop was

involved. 77

F: Letter from Maus to the Panorama Maatschappij 3 May 1889

with the stipulations for Les XX‟s exhibition. 77 G: Draft letter of Octave Maus [1889], inv. 5270. 78

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Introduction

“The dialogue of money and art is manifest in the language, in the institutions, and in the actions of modernist artists and their audiences. [...] This protean relationship has become so bound up with the rise of modernism and its accompanying discourses that they can never be separated.”

- Robert Jensen1

The Salon versus the dealer and the critic2

The seventeenth century in the Netherlands and Italy knew a buoyant market for contemporary art, yet it was not until the early-nineteenth century that the interest in this trade returned. The important developments, which the art trade experienced, mainly derived from commerce in prints.3 Famous art dealers like the British Thomas Agnew & Sons, Arthur Pond, Ernest Gambart and John Smith, the French Goupil & Cie., and the Dutch Frans Buffa & Zonen began their ventures in the 1820s with the sale of prints, exploiting their knowledge of authenticity, or connoisseurship by publishing engravings of their collections, alongside catalogues raisonnés.4 In the course of the 1850s, however, these print dealers increasingly opted for a trade in contemporary paintings and watercolours, which seemed to offer a brighter future in the market. Growing industrialisation had created a group of nouveaux

riches with their own particular interest in contemporary art.5 Rather than the immense historical masterpieces (machines) the Royal Academy and the Salon offered, they preferred smaller paintings of less formal themes, e.g. genre, landscape and still life, to decorate their homes with.6 Private dealers focused on this demand to serve their bourgeois clientèle, little suspecting that it would one day give them a virtual monopoly over the art trade.7

In France the Salon system, or Academic system, had dominated the art world both aesthetically and economically, and was controlled by the government‟s Académie de

1

Jensen, 1994, p. 10.

2

In their book Canvases and Careers, White and White juxtapose the rigid Salon system with what they call the dealer-critic system. Although I agree with the substantial role which art dealers and art critics had in changing the situation, I argue, in the course of the first chapter, that the entrepreneurial skills of the artist were of great importance too. Therefore, I prefer not to refer to the dealer-critic system, since it is not the sole alternative to the Salon system.

3

See White and White, 1965; Green, 1987; De Bodt, 1995; Dekkers, 1995; Jensen and Galenson, 2002, p. 145.

4

See Jensen, 1994, pp. 34 & 111; Helmreich, 2013, p. 91.

5

See White and White, 1965, pp. 8-10; Dekkers, 1995, p. 23; Jensen and Galenson, 2002.

6

White and White, 1965, pp. 90-92.

7

Neither the role of bourgeois clientèle nor that of private collectors should be neglected when we consider the growth in the trade of avant-garde art. Due to their enthusiasm for collecting and daring speculative ventures, they were often the source of avant-garde artists' prominence and success.

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Peinture et Sculpture (hereafter: Académie).8 The monopoly of the Salon was such that without showing at the Salon, no artist could establish his reputation and career. This state of affairs continued, though with diminishing importance, until the late 1870s.9 Yet, as the number of exhibiting artists grew, it became increasingly difficult for the Salon juries to find exhibition places for them (see illustration I.I). More and more artists, both unknown and established, found themselves being rejected from the Salon‟s exhibitions and, in turn, began to reject the Salon system as a whole.10

The modern art dealer was not blind to the speculative value of the emerging avant-garde, and hoped to obtain a monopoly over certain artists by seeking exclusive contracts and buying their entire oeuvres so as to influence the prices on the market.11 They also began to structure the exhibitions on an annual basis, and saw the benefit of developing a relationship with art critics.12 Those marketing strategies were generally first developed by the British, who already had a long commercial history in the field. Hence, unsurprisingly, it was London‟s exhibition and dealing scene which was key in influencing innovations in Parisian exhibition practice as from the 1870s. Now, not only were numerous shows

8_{Within the Salon system, talented artists were trained at the government‟s École des Beaux-Arts. They were}

instructed to employ traditional methods and styles and they could only advance if they passed annual examinations and participated in talent contests. After graduation, their main goal was to exhibit their latest artworks at the Salon, where a jury of different members – though most were associated with the Académie – determined who would be exhibiting at the world-famous annual or biennial exhibitions.

Jensen and Galenson were instrumental in instigating a discussion about terminology. While the Whites (1965, pp. 6-8) gave the term Academic system to describe institutional control over the art scene in France, Jensen and Galenson (2002, p. 140) renamed it the Salon system, arguing that the Académie was only one participant exercising control over the Salon, whereas the Salon itself exerted a continuous determinant influence over an artist‟s career. I believe the latter concept gives a clearer understanding of the ruling mechanism, so I will continue to refer to it as the Salon system.

9

This was sustained by an attractive system of medals and honours, a near monopoly in attracting serious publicity, and the artists‟ and public‟s belief that it was the only legitimate arena for the display and publishing of works of art: Jensen and Galenson, 2002, pp. 140-148.

10

Changing attitudes in the academic art world during the mid-nineteenth century were apparent in England as well as in France, yet the results differed greatly. While English artists continued to show at the Royal Academy while also presenting their work at innovative galleries like the Grosvenor Gallery (see illustration I.II), their French colleagues were forced to choose between the Salon or independent gallery exhibitions. The large amount of rejected submissions from well-known artists like Monet led the avant-garde to embargo the Salon. Audiences in England were, perhaps, more open to the alternative conceptions of art found at independent galleries, since the avant-garde artists who showed there enjoyed immediate success. As one will read in the following paragraphs, the English were innovative in many more ways. For the introduction, however, I have decided to continue with the French situation, mainly because the principal work of reference within this social-art-historical field, written by the Whites, discusses the French art world.

11

See White and White, 1965, pp. 98-99; Dekkers, 1995, p. 24. Jensen and Galenson (2002, p. 146) do not contradict this but do plead for a more nuanced description of the situation. According to them, the more successful galleries remained intimately connected with the Salon system, and more importantly, also sought exclusive contracts with renowned Salon artists.

On another note, it is said that whilst the French dealer concentrated on the artist‟s entire oeuvre, the British dealer focused more on individual paintings: Jensen, 1994, p. 35.

12

When art dealers started publishing specialised magazines on contemporary art, friendly art critics would be courted to review the dealers' exhibitions and praise specific artists, whose work was difficult to sell: see Dekkers, 1995, p. 24; Helmreich, 2013, p. 92.

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announced for both spring and winter, but the rich décor and variety of fashionable entertainments, charity events, and evening soirées attracted elite clients. 13 Novel developments in the 1880s created more specific kinds of exhibition: the group exhibition and the one-man show, or retrospective. Despite the fact that the avant-gardists did not form one specific école, they presented themselves to the public, with the collaboration of art dealers, as a group with a single identity. Even more commercially rewarding was the celebration of the individual artist‟s temperament, a characteristic of the artistic genius.14_{The belief,}

promoted by both dealers and critics as well as artists themselves, that such artists were given the transcendental gift of seeing nature‟s great truths, also served as a tool for mass merchandising an artist‟s oeuvre. As opposed to the glorification of a single machine, the total oeuvre of an artist, including drawings and unfinished work, became equally important. Along the same lines, the art dealer glorified the individual artistic genius for his „altruistic‟ motivation, thereby concealing the considerable profits such a speculative strategy generated.

These new developments in the art trade occurred alongside the development of art criticism as a legitimate profession. Whilst art dealers became entrepreneurial capitalists anticipating economic return from their speculation in the avant-garde, art critics made a literary career reviewing their art and became empowered spokesmen who could make or break an artist‟s (inter)national reputation.15_{Employed by artists and dealers, critics acted as}

the arbiters of taste and created an ideology for innovative art that coincided with the accepted pure painter role, but focused now on the “unknown genius”.16_{As ideologues and}

theorists, critics educated the public how to look at and appreciate avant-garde art, and developed theories that would aesthetically influence artists in the creative process. Like art dealers, critics possessed a particular aesthetic, which was in itself innovative and forward looking.

13

See Jensen, 1994, p. 41; Dekkers, 2013, p. 23. As from 1877, the exhibitions of the Grosvenor Gallery became increasingly influential. Its proprietor, Sir Coutts Lindsay, had created the gallery‟s international character and flair for exclusiveness by inviting renowned international artists by invitation only, forming a limited yet sensational collection. Charging visitors for entry, like an academic exhibition, the gallery ostensibly purported to be a place which was for looking not buying, thereby disguising the commercial enterprise with a façade of being above it: Jensen, 1994, p. 47.

14_{Temperament coincided with the arrival of the „nature‟ painters, i.a. the Barbizon school, whose artworks had to}

be understood as a reflection of the artist‟s temperament, i.e. a genially subjective experience of the objective world: Jensen, 1994, p. 40.

15

See White and White, 1965, pp. 95-96; Dekkers, 1995, p. 22.

16

White and White, 1965, pp. 94-95. In reference to Théodore Duret (cited in Jensen, 1994, p. 21), this “neglected genius”, was not neglected universally; it simply took the refined eye of the amateur to recognise the artist‟s great talent. Although he meant the connoisseur, it can work equally well in the context of the modern art dealer, who quickly saw the potential of an artist prior to his success.

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Nationalism versus Internationalism

Seeking to expand business beyond national borders, and thanks to the enhanced mobility provided by a new railway system, dealers began to focus on strategies that would put their enterprise on an international stage. In the mid-nineteenth century Paris, Brussels and London functioned as the main centres for the trade in modern art. To become successful, art dealers were not only required to travel through Europe to stay in touch with the crème of their European colleagues and so form international alliances, but also had to set up their headquarters and subsidiary galleries in these art centres.17

While it became ever more difficult to keep the best works in national galleries because of increasing foreign interest in acquiring them, expanding international relations generated the spread of international art fairs, which, in turn, stimulated global competition amongst artists. To keep up with this, the art dealer‟s chief role was to create international audiences for the artists he had under contract.18 Marketing their national „product‟, dealers such as the French Petit, Durand-Ruel, and Goupil, and the British Agnew and Gambart explored foreign grounds in search of new markets made up of the rich industrial elite.19

Other strategies included publishing sales catalogues and reproducing works of art in vogue. It was the Belgian art dealer Ernest Gambart (1814-1902), who developed the latter tactic during the 1850s and combined the sale of reproductions with travelling exhibitions of popular artworks.20 Such „benefit‟ exhibitions were arranged with an eye to publicity, since they attracted an enormous amount of public attention, whilst their apparently „educational' vocation discreetly masked their commercial character.21

Artistic ideals versus entrepreneurship

From the mid-century onwards, competition between foreign markets and a vast increase in artist candidates created a Darwinesque challenge to become famous. As the art world declined in terms of creative range, quality and identity under the grip of the rigid Salon

17

See Jensen, 1994; Dekkers, 1995; Jensen and Galenson, 2002; Baetens, 2010. Being a member of an alliance meant that the art dealer functioned as a middleman between his national art market and foreign galleries. A clear example was the Parisian art firm Arnold & Tripp, who not only collaborated with London-based Obach & Co, but also worked together with other Parisian art dealers like Goupil & Cie.

18

Jensen, 1994, p. 32.

19

Ibid, p. 33.

20

Gambart, based in London and owning affiliates in Brussels and Paris, not only bought paintings that had enjoyed success at Parisian and London Salons, but bought their reproduction rights as well. Subsequently, he organised travelling exhibitions for popular paintings, which would be transported to various cities at home and abroad, while additional profit was made by selling engravings: see Jensen, 1994, p. 34; Dekkers, 1995, p. 24.

21

In addition, Gambart cleverly followed the exhibition protocols of the Royal Academy and Salon by omitting prices in his exhibition catalogues and prefacing the volumes with a Committee of Artists, so as to create the illusion that his exhibitions were organised by artists who had complete control over the aesthetics: Helmreich, 2013, p. 92.

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system, artists began to exhibit in new independent galleries as a means of opposition.22 One result was that artists sought to differentiate themselves in order to attract a dealer‟s attention, whilst all the while recognising the commercial value of a group identity. Thus the avant-garde artist began to act as an economic agent and in so doing focused on new international contacts. These contacts made it possible for artists to show their work at salons and exhibitions abroad and to introduce the work of foreign artists to their home country.23 Such an exchange is illustrated by the artistic circle Societé des Vingt (hereafter: Les XX), who invited various international artists for their annual exhibition based in Brussels, and who had seen the Dutch artist and Vingtist member, Jan Toorop, return the favour by organising an exhibition for them in The Hague.24

Historiography

Over the past sixty years there has been a growing interest in interdisciplinary research methods in the field of the arts, which in time has led to the understanding of the importance of the art market in art-historical research.

The first publications about the artist‟s social and economic position appeared during the 1960s and 1970s. Several important publications that were written about the nineteenth-century French art market, many of them with different socio-historical perspectives, paved the way for a more interdisciplinary perspective on art history.25 During the 1980s, these publications adopt a new art-historical approach, called the social-art-historical approach, which treats art in relation to, and in interaction with its social context.

During this same period, a similar tendency is noticeable in the Netherlands, in which production, distribution, and the circumstances surrounding the creation of an artwork take centre stage in research, whilst form and content become less important.26 This increased concentration on socio-economic research methods is owed to John Michael Montias.27 He applied statistical and quantitative methods to research the economic position of artists living in seventeenth-century Delft, and studied various primary sources, such as the archives and household inventories of Delft and Amsterdam.28 Yet it was not until the 1990s, with the publications of Annemieke Hoogenboom and Chris Stolwijk, that socio-economic research 22 Jensen, 1994, pp. 39-40. 23 Stolwijk, 1998, p. 263. 24

The exhibition was held at the Haagse Kunstkring in 1892.

25_{Harrison White and Cynthia White‟s book Canvases and Careers from 1965 is still seen today as the main work}

of reference examining the fundamental changes in the French art world during the second half of the nineteenth century. Other articles are Raymonde Moulin‟s (1967) Le Marché de la Peinture en France, Jacques Lethève‟s Vie Quotidienne des Artistes Français au XIX siècle (1968), Albert Boime‟s Entrepreneurial patronage in nineteenth-century France (1976), Rediscoveries in Art from Francis Haskell (1976), and Linda Whiteley‟s 1979 publication Accounting for Tastes.

26

Stolwijk, 1998, p. 17.

27

Montias (1982). Artists and Artisans in Delft: A Socio-Economic Study of the Seventeenth Century.

28

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began on the nineteenth-century art market and the social status of Dutch painters. Both academics were able, by employing prosopographical research methods, to sketch a new image of the nineteenth-century artist as an entrepreneur, contradicting the image of the poor artist, victim of the capitalist art market. By the mid-1990s De Bodt and Dekkers research the late nineteenth-century Dutch artist in relation to the internationalisation of art and the art market. De Bodt‟s research is of specific significance, since it addresses the need for Dutch artists in the late nineteenth century to leave their country either temporarily or permanently to move to international artistic capitals.29 Her focal point becomes Brussels, the city between Paris and the Netherlands, and she examines the reciprocal influence of the Dutch artist colony on Belgium and their home country.

The research and publications mentioned above are key to the shaping and structuring of my own research on Jan Toorop‟s entrepreneurial role in marketing Les XX in the Netherlands.

Points of departure and approach

Dichotomies seem to form the leitmotif of the critical discourses in the European art scene of the mid-nineteenth century. Salon versus dealers and critics, national versus international, and artistic ideals versus commercial entrepreneurship operate on a level that imagines rather than describes the social reality of the fin-de-siècle. There also seems to be a clear disjunction between what the Whites believe was the catalyst of a new system and what Jensen and Galenson believe. Whilst the Whites argue that the rise of the new system was due to the dealers and critics, Jensen and Galenson contend that this was not the case at all. They argue that the artists were the true entrepreneurs of the multiple exhibitions system and that they continued to be far ahead of everyone. In my opinion, it seems better suited to take on a revisionist approach and argue for a middle way. There is no clear cut picture of whether it was a particular group that initiated the fall of the Salon system and the rise of the modern system. As I have tried to articulate in this introduction, each group – dealer, critic, and artist – began to think in radical alternatives during the mid-nineteenth century, and most importantly, there clearly existed a triangular contact between the dealer-critic-artist. The different parties may well have influenced one other, but they most certainly helped each other in a united effort to crack the rigid Salon system.

Therefore, I believe the developments in the then contemporary art scene can be understood as the process of three maturing professions in a new consumer society. From the trade perspective, artisan-dealers evolved from regional operators to professionally organised art dealers with established international networks. On the way, they began to

29

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develop marketing strategies such as annual exhibitions, exclusive group exhibitions and one-man shows, the sale of reproductions and engraved sales catalogues so as to gain a monopolistic position on the art market. From the publicity perspective, art critics started as the voice of the Salon and Académie but grew to become individual critical thinkers. Intertwined in the world of artists, they published reviews, became the ideologues of new artists, and theorised contemporary art seeking to influence the artist‟s aesthetic and educate the public‟s appreciation of modern art.

In the light of what will follow in this thesis, we should consider the perspective of art production. Artists were confined to the rigid Salon system and could hardly keep their heads above water with the growing competition. But as they entered the second half of the nineteenth century, avant-garde artists began to act as economic entrepreneurs who actively sought ties with art dealers, art critics, and fellow-artists to better define themselves in a competitive market whilst still aspiring to make their mark in history. This should be contrasted with the popularly-accepted, romantic image of the late nineteenth-century artist, who produced art for art‟s sake alone and starved in a garret.30_{In the opinion of several}

academics, and mine too, nineteenth-century artists were rather active entrepreneurs and undertook a great deal in order to extract the „maximum‟ profit from the supply and demand system.31 In reference to Toorop, many letters point to his personal contact with art dealers and critics and reveal a similar businesslike approach to selling and exhibiting his own artworks from the 1890s through to the 1920s.32 Given this, it becomes an inviting idea to examine whether Jan Toorop adopted this same active approach to promoting his artistic circle Les XX back in his home country, the Netherlands.33

Using these propositions as a foundation, this research will strive to answer the following questions: Could Jan Toorop, an artist representative of his time, be seen as the key figure responsible for the successful promotion of Les XX in the Netherlands through his organisation of the exhibition in The Hague? What part did art dealers and art critics play in these exhibitions? And to what extent did that exhibition provide a platform for the marketing of Jan Toorop‟s own work and further his future career?

Primary sources

For research purposes, I consulted the broad collection of letters from Jan Toorop in the archives of the Rijksbureau voor Kunsthistoriche Documentatie (RKD) and the Koninklijke

30

See Pfeiffer and Hollein (2014) for a romantic description of the bohemian life of the late-nineteenth-century artist in Paris.

31

See Green, 1989, pp. 29-30; Jensen, 1988 and 1994; De Bodt, 1995, p. 61.

32

RKD Archive: Archief Firma Sala & Zoonen (1850-1920) and Archief Firma E.J. van Wisselingh en Co (1891-1895).

33

Other artists that promoted their artistic circle during the late-nineteenth century are Walter Crane (Arts and Crafts Movement) and Camille Pissarro (Impressionist Collective).

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Bibliotheek (KB), both in The Hague. The RKD collection includes the archive of Firma Sala & Zoonen and the archive Firma van Wisselingh en Co – both art dealer firms that represented Jan Toorop – with the letters from Toorop to these dealers. The archive of the KB holds personal letters which Toorop received from his wife, family, friends, and colleagues. A third significant source is the archive of letters from Jan Toorop to Octave Maus, the founder and head of Les XX. These letters are located in the Fonds O. Maus in Archief voor Hedendaagse Kunst Brussel (AHKB), located at the Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium in Brussels. Finally, I have also examined the municipal archives of Amsterdam and The Hague, Amsterdam‟s Stadsarchief (ASA) and Gemeente archief „s Gravenhage (GAG) respectively, for any information about local art societies and exhibitions.

Research

I have structured my research into two sections. The first section of two chapters sketches out the theoretical framework in which the late nineteenth-century art market operated, looks at the role of artists within it, and analyses both the conditions and the time-frame. In addition, it examines the organisation of Les XX and the Haagsche Kunstkring (hereafter: HKK) in the context of the multidisciplinary art circle: a novel form of art society that sought to bring together all artistic disciplines.

The first chapter deals with the change in player status, or economic agency, of the artist in light of the nineteenth-century art market. I also elaborate on the dichotomy within the artist‟s identity, that of artistic ideals or art for art’s sake versus entrepreneurship.

Chapter two analyses contemporary artistic societies appearing in Belgium and the Netherlands. An exemplar of its type during the last two decades of the nineteenth century, Les XX serves as a perfect illustration of the concepts behind and the benefits of a multidisciplinary art circle. Following on, I explain the organisation and exhibition practices of Les XX and the HKK, the most progressive circles within Belgium and the Netherlands, respectively.

Section two contains the concluding chapter, number three, which sheds light on Jan Toorop, his standing within the late nineteenth-century art world and art society scene. It investigates his entrepreneurial skills, his organisational ability, and his membership of the HKK and Les XX. Close attention is paid to his relations with Dutch art dealers and critics, and to his role as a mediator in marketing Les XX in the Netherlands. To understand Toorop‟s motivation for bringing the art of Les XX to The Hague, I will investigate Les XX‟s exhibition at the HKK in 1892 and Toorop‟s activities in relation to that exhibition. Primary sources, such as contemporary newspaper articles and the correspondence between Jan Toorop and his art dealers, art critic-friends, artist-friends and other members of Les XX form the basis of this research section.

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The conclusion will place Toorop and Les XX‟s 1892 exhibition within the perspective of those key concepts of the late nineteenth-century art world set out in section one. Answers will be given to the research questions framed in this introduction and I shall finally reveal why it is imperative for future research to view avant-garde artists as entrepreneurs too.

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Chapter One

Entrepreneurial artists in the late-nineteenth century

“The makers and marketers of works of art are adversaries in collusion, who each abide by the same law which demands the repression of direct manifestations of personal interests, at least in its overtly „economic‟ form, and which has every appearance of transcendence [...]”

- Pierre Bourdieu34

Although artists had always necessarily been economically active to some degree in order to survive, it was during a period of new developments in the art world in the mid-nineteenth century that they began to assume a greater role in the economic circuit, although that always in disguised form. Due to the centralised art system in France, which had based all powerful cultural institutions in Paris, large numbers of students from all social classes, both national and international, were drawn to study and make a living there. With the increase of competition between foreign markets that followed in the second half of the century, the proliferation of artists caused an ever-greater competition for attention. As quality, differentiation and individual identity in the arts was perceived to have greatly diminished, the Salon system started to receive constant criticism from both inside and outside the Parisian art milieu.35 Institutionally, the system had failed to regulate the ever-increasing body of artists and now it seemed to have become incapable of producing truly great artists. Economically, it had not succeeded in ensuring even the basic welfare of French artists living in a market economy. So, artists began to align themselves against the Académie and the Salon, using the newly developed commercial gallery system as a platform of rebellion.36 This is when the paradox of the modern artist began to take form. Despite the advantages of frequent commercial exhibitions, artists tried to stay independent and appear to be above commercial interest. Yet by abandoning any commercial aspect to their art in favour of true,

pure art, artists were tacitly denying their right to make a living.37 Nevertheless, the circle of the Impressionists, and later avant-garde circles, depended on the market more than any of their commercially-oriented competitors.

34 Bourdieu, 1980, p. 266. 35 Jensen, 1994, pp. 25-26. 36 Ibid, pp. 39-40.

37_{Ibid, p. 19. The artist‟s choice of commercial art over 'pure' art is essentially a choice between immediate}

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15 1.1. Avant-garde art or commercial art

1.1.1. The artist’s commercial disinterestedness

As commercial art expanded from the 1840s onwards, artists created an opposing position to

bourgeois art and social art, which can be characterised as art for art’s sake. Within the art

world, a clear distinction was made between the conservative commercial artists and the innovative avant-garde artists. According to the sociologist Bourdieu, artists were confronted with a commercial and artistic choice, they had to choose between popularity or privilege, i.e. becoming rich and famous now but forgotten tomorrow, or sacrificing financial stability for future renown.38 Via a symbolic revolution in favour of pure art, artists would free themselves from amoral „bourgeois‟ art and bourgeois demand, instead creating art that would not be sold to the mass public, but to other artists who could truly understand their work. Those who wanted to avoid assimilation at any price to the bourgeois art world and its concomitant of social ageing, had to refuse the outward social tokens of consecration, such as decorations, prizes and honours.39 The sacrifice of effectively having no market in the present would ultimately be rewarded by a deeper understanding of, and greater demand for their art in the future.40 This new autonomy of cultural production created a gap between supply and demand in the contemporary trade of avant-garde art.41

Yet to what extent is this true? How realistic is the situation of avant-garde artists not wanting to sell today in the hope of receiving eternal success tomorrow? In reality, in the late nineteenth century the avant-garde art world was in no way excluded from profiting economically. The pursuit of economic profit was undeniably part of artistic production, yet it took place in a strictly disguised form; it was defined by a public refusal of the commercial, in fact a collective disavowal of commercial interests and profits, leading artists to behave in an „anti-economic‟ and visibly „disinterested‟ way, yet always with an inherent economic

38_{Bourdieu, 1996, pp. 52-58. Bourdieu makes a distinction between avant-garde artists and „bourgeois‟ artists,}

explaining it in terms of their respective economic logics: the anti-economic economy of pure art and the economic logic of literary and artistic industries. The former chooses a long production cycle oriented for the future, accepting the financial instability risk inherent in cultural investments and on submission to specific laws of the art trade, and focusing on the creation of art for other “producers” (artists). The latter economic logic opts for a short production cycle oriented for immediate fame and money, and offers products on the market that respond to a pre-established demand, i.e. art for the mass-audience: see Bourdieu, 1983, pp. 331-332; Bourdieu, 1996, p. 142.

39_{Bourdieu, 1996, p. 123. Social ageing and the degree of consecration are two dominant concepts in Bourdieu‟s}

The Rules of Art. Whilst social ageing has to do with the choice of going for immediate success versus future success, the degree of consecration means the dedication to and worship of the making of pure art. Economic and social consecration, in the form of honours, prizes and commercial success, were believed to inhibit the production of avant-garde art.

40

Ibid, pp. 75 & 81.

41

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rationality.42 By behaving in this apparently anti-economic, disinterested manner, avant-gardists hoped to accumulate, besides monetary capital, symbolic capital too.43 In short, the art world of the avant-garde believed that if an artist/art dealer behaved in fully „disinterested‟ fashion towards the outside world, concealed his economic interest (even) from himself and from others, and converted economic capital into symbolic capital, he could gain the recognised, legitimate capital called „prestige‟ or „authority‟ together with commercial profits.44

Basically, he could have his cake and eat it. Both artist and art dealer could accumulate symbolic capital by making a name for themselves, devoting themselves entirely to pure art, and eventually have the power to give value to and take appropriate profit from the enterprise. In this context, disavowal was not a real negation of economic interest, but an ideological mask to increase symbolic capital.45

Charisma was the ultimate basis on which to accumulate this symbolic capital. Within the mechanism of the „charisma‟ ideology, it was the charisma of an artist or an art dealer that generated the belief in the value of a work of art, and thus the demand for the work of that artist. Through charisma, the producer, i.e. the artist, could determine the price of an artwork, not just by calculating the costs of production but also by adding a symbolic value. In Bourdieu‟s belief, however, it is the “cultural businessman”, in other words, the art dealer, who was the true producer of value.46 He is the one who consecrates the product, the artwork, which he has „discovered‟ and which would otherwise remain a simple natural product. He is not just the agent who gives the work a commercial value because he introduces it onto the market, nor is he just the advocate and defender of the artist; he is the one capable of proclaiming the value of the artist he defends, and most importantly, he acts like a „symbolic banker‟ investing his prestige and authority in the artist‟s cause.47_{In other}

words, “the dealer is the guarantor of the quality of the works”.48_{Due to the mechanisms of}

the avant-garde art world – in which the less visible the direct investment in the artist, the more productive it would be symbolically – dealers were forced to obscure their promotional

42

Bourdieu, 1980, p. 261. Bourdieu explains the denial of the commercial profits by using the concepts disavowal of the ‘economy’ and ‘disinterestedness’: whilst the former means a refusal/negation of economic prosperity, the latter describes a visible disinterestedness in everything to do with commerce and economy.

43

Ibid, p. 262. In reference to Bourdieu, symbolic capital should be understood as economic or political capital that is disavowed, but recognised as a credit which in the future, and maybe even in the present, guarantees economic profit. Having symbolic capital meant that artists received fame and were celebrated for the significance of their work – aspects which would also lead to economic success.

44

Although I agree with Bourdieu that economic rationality was never fully abandoned by either the commercial or the avant-garde artist, I do feel the need to plead for a more subtle perspective. In contrast to what Bourdieu suggests, I believe that in reality avant-garde artists did not always create consciously premeditated strategies to behave disinterestedly or distance themselves from commerce.

45 Bourdieu, 1980, p. 262. 46 Ibid, p. 263. 47 Ibid.

48_{R. Moulin, 1967, p. 329. Bourdieu‟s description of the art dealer‟s role in promoting the artist and his work}

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strategies. Hence, merely introducing the artist to select groups of potential buyers via group exhibitions and one-man shows was not enough. The dealer had to apply his endeavours to more discreet forms of „public relations‟, such as receptions and society gatherings – themselves, of course, being highly euphemised forms of publicity – as obvious commercial manoeuvres and the hard sell were not acceptable.49 The great dealers, according to Bourdieu, were inspired talent spotters who, guided by their disinterested, unreasoning passion for a work of art, „made‟ the artist, or helped him make himself, guiding him with their advice and freeing him from material worries.50 The dealer was the only one capable of organising and marketing the artwork, not only because he devoted most of his time to it, but also because this way the artist would not have to associate himself with such „demoralising and ineffective‟ tasks and could maintain the charismatic and disinterested image of himself and his work.51

1.1.2. Undervaluing the artist’s role of self-promotion

Bourdieu has given a detailed insight on the double identity, so to say, of the avant-garde artist and art dealer. Whilst maintaining the air of „disinterestedness‟ in their public performance, both dealer and artist sought economic profit and needed each other to attain it. When describing the nature of the relationships between artist and, dealer, critic, or public, it seems, however, that Bourdieu only stresses the importance of the last three and disregards the entrepreneurship of the artist himself.

Whilst he considers critics and dealers to have been crucial in promoting a more general appreciation of the arts and a more widespread marketing of cultural goods, Bourdieu does not adequately consider the significant role the artist played in promoting himself. He argues that the dealer was the guarantor of the value and quality of works of art, and that the artist was entirely dependent on the dealer‟s eloquent strategies of public promotion. Although I agree that the dealer‟s expertise in this regard was important, I do not agree that it was a one-way arrangement, but rather a collaborative game played between the two agents. I also believe that the exhibitions and one-man shows organised by art dealers were really a way for artists to promote themselves commercially whilst wearing the helpful disguise of the dealer‟s symbolic conviction. Hence, artists were very aware of the

usefulness of dealers in the promotion of their art. Bourdieu sees dealers as necessary

agents for the success of an artist because of their influential opinions, their devotion to pure art, and their execution of public relations tasks – tasks that would taint both the artist‟s pure and disinterested image and his artwork – but in so doing he undervalues the artist‟s active 49 Bourdieu, 1980, p. 264. 50 Ibid. 51 Ibid.

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role as an economic agent.52 It seems as though he believes this is not a role that artists took, even if he did recognise the economic rationale underpinning art production. As Jensen comments in “Marketing Modernism”,

the „alienation‟ of the artist was, at least as far as the market was concerned, largely a fiction that served rather than denied the commodification of art. The dialogue of money and art is manifest in the language, in the institutions, and in the actions of modernist artists and their audiences.53

As we shall see the artist was engaged both in the forming of his public identity and the promotion of his work. My proposition is that the avant-garde of the late nineteenth century was inherently commercial and that the artists themselves were active entrepreneurs.

1.2. Artistic self-promotion

1.2.1. Active agency

As part of his self-promoting strategies, the „artist as economic agent‟ often resorted to the auction house to sell unsold or brand-new artworks, and regularly collaborated with art dealers for their valuation expertise.54 These alliances also permitted the artist to maintain a certain degree of control over the prices of his work in other auctions or exhibitions. Furthermore, the relationship with the art dealer generated exclusive contracts, which suited the dealer, but most definitely suited the artist too, who was now given a predictable income instead of having to wait until his works were sold. By the 1880s, artists were increasingly able to take advantage of competing art dealers, as is the case of Claude Monet.55 While Petit had acquired a handful of paintings in the early 1880s, his main rival Durand-Ruel (see illustrations 1.1-1.2) bought a large number of Monet‟s works later in the decade. Nonetheless, even though Monet had been exhibiting at Petit‟s gallery for some years, the artist was still financially dependent on acquisitions by Durand-Ruel. Finally, in 1887 Monet changed dealer-patron and lived off the purchases Theo van Gogh had made in name of Boussod, Valadon et Cie.56_{This kind of relationship between artist and patron was not just}

about money, it was also about recognition and praise. Was it artistic temperament that led

52_{Tasks that, in Bourdieu‟s opinion (1980, p. 264), were “both ridiculous, demoralizing and ineffective.”} 53

Jensen, 1994, p. 10.

54

See Bourdieu, 1980, p. 262; Green, 1987, p. 33.

55

See White and White, 1965, pp. 126-129; Jensen and Galenson, 2002, p. 158.

56

Boussod, Valadon et Cie. was formerly known as the gallery Goupil & Cie., yet changed owners and name in 1884: see Dekkers, 1995, p. 23.

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avant-garde artists to send accusing letters to their dealers, alternating between pleas and demands for money and accompanied by threats to change dealer and allegiance, or even to sell privately to amateurs?57 Artists needed a salary, a steady income, which could not always be granted by a single dealer due to the unpredictability of sales, hence playing off one dealer against another became a necessary strategy.

This play of patronage was, however, not at all self-evident. Artists had to apply active agency in order to attract a dealer‟s attention. Due to the small space a gallery offered, dealers could only manage a modest selection of artists and therefore chose only those artists who stood out from the mass.58 As a result, artists sought to differentiate themselves on grounds of quality, individuality and the merit of their ambition for a place in art history. While the first two could mainly be accomplished by individual effort, the last could only be achieved in collaboration with art dealers and art critics. Only with the phenomenon of the retrospective and the theorisation of technique and aesthetics could the originality of an artist‟s work possibly be historically guaranteed.59_{To market himself, the independent artist}

had to become an entrepreneur: he had to gain access to the public by finding a gallery who would want to manage him and by befriending art critics who could review his work positively. He would also need to innovate to achieve distinction. Hence, “the use of avant-gardism and the following „isms‟ were not just the creative flow of a generation, but a mentality, haunted by the need for originality, by the need to supersede one‟s competitors, by the desire to get a piece of the market share, to be discussed.”60_{The term unknown, or}

neglected, genius was thus a ruse by the artist, critic and dealer to increase publicity and

create a myth around the artist. This strategy went hand in hand with the tactic of forming artistic groups with specific aesthetic identities. By the late 1880s, the public tended to think that a movement naturally created artistic leaders who would become canonised masters. Since such Sociétés and masters continued the tradition of high-art, they also guaranteed historical significance to their members. Consequently, if an artist was a member of a Société with a specific aesthetic programme, that would increase his fame more than would promotion in galleries and public reviews alone.61

57

A good example is the following letter from Monet to Durand-Ruel: “You are not going to believe that I doubt you. No, I know your courage and your energy...Briefly, tell me the situation; are you certain that you can give me some money today? If not, I am going to take up my former method [of] running about to the amateurs...Send your reply by the bearer [of this letter], it irritates me to come continually to the shop to importune you”: White and White, 1965, p. 127. 58 Jensen, 1988, p. 361. 59 Ibid; Jensen, 1994, p. 23. 60 Jensen, 1994, p. 15. 61 Ibid, p. 108; Jensen, 1988, p. 361.

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1.2.2. Sociétés

As from the 1860s, artists‟ Sociétés became increasingly fashionable; such enterprises made a great show of pure artistic ideals to mask the intimate relationship between artists and specific dealers.62 Committed to the promotion of art, these new societies focused on acquiring a specialised market, whereby private speculation was often clothed in the attractive mantle of free avant-gardism. They did so by concentrating on elite audiences and were themselves composed of an elite group of artists. Responding to the needs of their clientèle, such Sociétés promoted themselves by holding exclusive concerts and parties, whilst also printing catalogues and art magazines – devoted to their members– to enlist art critics in the service of their commercial goals. Avant-garde artists likewise saw in Sociétés the solution to preserve their image of independence. The Société would exhibit and sell their work, whilst simultaneously promoting their aesthetic values in in-house periodicals. It seemed to be an attempt to have one's cake and eat it, with artists believing that through Sociétés there could be “purity in exhibiting and propagating a doctrine that would not subvert the dignity of art and that could be kept separate from commerce, without limiting commerce.”63

Consequently, these elitist artist Sociétés, together with, and alongside the art dealers, became the answer to promoting art in the late nineteenth century.

1.3. Entrepreneurial strategies

1.3.1. Enlarging business skills

In order to become a successful artist, i.e. maintaining a comfortable lifestyle alongside the status of a pure painter, one had to actively work on one‟s business skills. This meant that artists had to seek recognition and support from any dealer who seemed approachable. The Impressionists were particularly good at this (see table 1). Camille Pissarro, for example, dealt largely with Père Martin, a smaller dealer who was willing to buy regularly from the artist, yet the low prices Pissarro received, „forced‟ him to sell paintings to Durand-Ruel as well. By the late 1880s, Pissarro had exhibited with Petit too, and was represented at the end of his career by Boussod & Valadon through Theo van Gogh (see illustration 1.3). This turned out very positively for the artist, as he made 4500 francs in 1887 alone.64 Willem Roelofs did not remain with one single art dealer either. While his colleague Anton Mauve had a long-term contract with the Hague-based Goupil & Cie. (see illustration 1.4), Roelofs

62

See Jensen, 1994, pp. 84-86.

63

Ibid, p. 298n22. The Société Nationale des Beaux-Arts and the Société des Aquafortistes were exemplars of how an artist organisation could have publicity, be publicly visible, and still remain independent and uphold the quality of its art.

64

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did not seem to find anyone capable of looking after his interests.65 In other words, anyone who wanted to succeed financially had to play the game. If he was capable of assessing his position on the market, an artist could cleverly refuse a dealer‟s offer if it seemed inadequate. Monet, for example, even after Eugène Murer bailed him out of financial trouble, instructed the collector to choose as payment, “pictures of smaller dimensions...for after all, you wouldn‟t want me to make you a present.”66_{Despite the benefits of acting relentlessly in their}

own self interest, many artists also attempted to avoid such quarrels by creating their own market outside the dealer circuit.67

Gathered from White & White, 1965, pp. 134-138.

1.3.2. Employing the exhibition as a commercial stage

One of the first strategies developed was to make a name through independent exhibitions. The taboo within the avant-garde art scene against such exhibitions, perceived as highly commercial practices, was not as strong in England as in France, but even in London there had always been difficulties surrounding artistic self-promotion.68 In due course, avant-garde artists claimed that their status as artists was as important as any individual work of art. An understanding of this enables one better to interpret Whistler‟s reply to critic John Ruskin's charge at trial that he asked two hundred guineas for a painting that took two days labour – “I

65

De Bodt, 1995, p. 128. Roelofs was one of the first generation Dutch avant-garde artists to make a career in Brussels.

66

Ibid, pp. 138-139. Eugène Murer, also known as Hyacinthe-Eugène Meunier (1841-1906) was an avid collector of Impressionist art.

67_{See Dekkers, 1995; De Bodt, 1995, pp. 129-130. Whilst Roelofs sought clients outside the dealer‟s network,}

American Impressionist artist Mary Cassatt, too, had found a small number of American collectors for her artistic circle. Being a modest collector of her colleagues‟ work herself, she convinced her family and close friends to buy Impressionist paintings, including her brother Alexander, his business associate Frank Thomson, friend Louisine Elder who married Henry Havemeyer, and Anne Riddle Scott. Based on consultation with Cassatt, the Havemeyers and the Potter Palmers began to collect Impressionist art in 1889, which would later become the two largest Impressionist collections in America. Eventually, it was Cassatt (!) who introduced the two collectors to Durand-Ruel and his sons, which developed into an transnational venture to New York on Durand-Ruel‟s side: see Jensen and Galenson, 2002, pp. 39-40.

68

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ask it for the knowledge I have gained in the work of a lifetime.”69

Another strategy that became profitable was exhibiting work at Sociétés, as referred to earlier. Due to the economic crisis in the 1880s in France subsequent to, inter alia, the collapse of the stock exchange in 1882, the dealer‟s commercial position worsened. This caused many artists to seek financial support and opportunity at the exhibitions of Sociétés like the Dutch Arti et

Amicitiae, the French Société des Aquafortistes or the Belgian L’Essor, where selling was

still done on consignation and only claimed 5% of the sales price. Furthermore, such exhibitions became valuable ideological platforms. By combining the oeuvres of various artists and creating a sophisticated ambience through well-selected and well-displayed artworks, the select public was encouraged to view the entire exhibition as a work of art in itself. A reviewer wrote, "The visitor is struck, on entering the gallery, with a curious sense of harmony and fitness pervading it, and is more interested, perhaps, in the general effect than in any one work."70 This created an environment in which artists with a talent for self-promotion could prosper. An artist who was particularly good at this was Whistler, who revolutionised the exhibition practice of artists.71 Drawing on his experiences as a member of England‟s elite society and as an intimate participant in the Parisian art scene, he believed that his artistic identity, his self-presentation and his entire oeuvre, were a

Gesamtkunstwerk.72

1.3.3. Engaging on an international level

Artists' fortunes, luckily, were not solely in the hands of dealers or the local art scene, as they could actively promote themselves and their work internationally. Knowing that many Sociétés were receptive to the possibility of exhibiting foreign artists, they could submit their work to a range of exhibition selection committees in the hope of being accepted. The extant draft letters of Hendrik Willem Mesdag, dated between 1871 and 1875, demonstrate how the

69

Ibid.

70

Anderson and Koval, 1994, p. 197.

71

Jensen, 1994, p. 42. Pissarro considered Whistler to have carried out his schemes on a greater scale than the Impressionists ever did. In a letter dated 28 February 1883, Pissarro responded to his son‟s description of Whistler‟s 1883 exhibition at the Fine Arts Gallery of his Venetian etchings, “I should say that for the room white and yellow is a charming combination. The fact is that we ourselves made the first experiments in colours: the room in which I showed was lilac, bordered with canary yellow. But we poor little rejected painters lack the means to carry out our concepts of decoration. As for urging Durand-Ruel to hold an exhibition in a hall decorated by us, it would, I think, be wasted breath. You saw how I fought with him for white frames, and finally I had to abandon the idea.” Reprinted in Pissarro & Rewald ,1981, pp. 5-6.

72

Whistler believed that every aspect was intrinsically a work of art: from the clothes he wore, to his manner of speech, to the letters he wrote, to his works of art, to his exhibitions, to his catalogues. He believed that there was no such thing as bad publicity, considering that any form, positive or negative, contributed to an artist‟s fame cf. “there is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about “ (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray (1891), Chapter 1). Whistler's publications possess a manifesto-like quality, The Gentle Art of Making Enemies first published in 1890, was largely a compilation of critiques of his work and his rebuttals.

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artist wrote insistently to committee members in Berlin, Breslau, Vienna, Ghent, Reims and Paris, in which he advertised himself as an artist of considerable reputation, and demanded a prominently visible place at the exhibition in question.73 From those same letters one can see that he also managed to expand his network of European art dealers to Bismeyer & Kraus in Düsseldorf, L. Sacksen & Co in Berlin and Goupil & Cie. in The Hague and Paris. In 1871 he additionally had contact with the London-based dealers Wallis (the successor of Gambart at French Gallery) and Maclean, whilst also visiting Pilgeram & Lefèvre in Paris. Nonetheless, negotiations with foreign art dealers remained difficult and time-consuming and little would sometimes come of them.

Conclusion

Artistic competition is as old as the high-art tradition itself, but it was given new meaning in the mid-nineteenth century due to institutional and commercial pressures. To sell well as a

pure artist, economic interests had to be concealed by the adoption of specific strategies.

Recognising the commercial values of „disinterestedness‟ and group identities, avant-garde artists began to act as economic agents in disguise, as entrepreneurs who formed artist societies and sought ties with art dealers and art critics to define themselves in a competitive market and to become part of the modern art canon. They undertook marketing activities to promote themselves by enlarging their business skills through the play of patronage and price protection, by employing the exhibition as a stage for commerce and ideology, and finally, by engaging on an international level with foreign dealers and societies. The market was, after all, truly an intrinsic part of artistic practice.74

73

See De Bodt, 1995, pp. 140-144. Mesdag was a pupil and colleague of Roelofs.

74

Bourdieu (1980, p. 266), even goes so far to say that most painters were deeply self-interested, calculating, obsessed with money and ready to do anything to succeed.

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Chapter Two

Multidisciplinary art circles in the Fin-de-Siècle

75

“Je désirais bien qu‟il ya un cercle pareil [comme Les XX] en Hollande. Mais que voulez-vous? Ce pays? Nous n‟avons même un palais des Beaux-Arts ou le gouvernement nous donne la liberté d‟y exposer la-dedans, comme en Belgique [.]”

- Jan Toorop, April 189276

During the nineteenth century artists founded artistic circles as a means of encouraging the socio-economic status, professionalization, and specialisation of the contemporary artist and improving the contemporary art market. In the Netherlands, for example, the foundation of circles like Arti et Amicitiae (Arti) (1839) and Pulchri Studio (Pulchri) (1847) was a reaction to the absence of government support and the difficulty for professional artists to participate in government policies.77 In the hope of setting themselves apart from the bulk of amateur artists, professionals collaborated with one another and with art dealers to organise exhibitions of living masters, artistic discussions and soirées artistiques – all in the hope of establishing their own market. With such events, artists sought to persuade an elite audience that was already appreciative of contemporary art to become amateur members of the circle and to buy their works.78 The assurance of having a regular group of clients was an essential motive for an artist to become a working member of a circle, especially when that circle focused on a very specific niche.79 Soon, these art societies had become an intrinsic part of the art world and would lead the art scene and the modernisation of art taste, together with art dealers.

The multidisciplinary art circle was a subcategory of the art circle. The name, taken directly from the French and Francophone Belgian scene, implied an artistic circle where each artistic discipline had equal importance and ties were formed between various artists from those disciplines. The last quarter of the nineteenth century saw the emergence of avant-garde societies, such as the early Cercle Artistique et Littéraire de Bruxelles and

75

The term multidisciplinary is introduced by Van Kalmthout (1998) to describe the new wave of artistic circles, and make a distinction from the societies, which developed in a later stage, that only focused on one discipline and also named themselves „artistic circle‟.

76

Letter from Jan Toorop to Max Elskamp, Katwijk, April 1892. KBB, Brussels. Cited in Tibbe, 1981, p. 137.

77

See Stolwijk, 1998, p. 116.

78_{The idea of having working members and amateur members is very specific for Dutch art circles – contrary to}

the artist-only art circles in France, Belgium and England – and illustrates their commercial character. To become an amateur member, however, one needed to be part of the wealthy, male upper-class.

79

Such specialised artistic circles are the Dutch drawing circle Hollandsche Teeken-Maatschappij, the Dutch etching circle Nederlandsche Etsclub, St. Lucas circle for students and alumni of the Dutch Rijksacademie, or the Belgian Société Belge des Aquarellistes and the Société Libre des Beaux Arts, for watercolour painters and Fine Arts artists respectively.

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Cercle Artistique et Littéraire d’Anvers, and the modern L’Essor, Les XX, and the HKK,

together with a new modern artistic ideology in Europe: the Gesamtkunstwerk. Yet the idea of an alliance of all artistic disciplines in combination with full artistic freedom – unity-in-diversity – also served the commercial purpose of attracting a diverse amateur audience.80

2.1 The foundation for multidisciplinary art circles

2.1.1. Art societies in Belgium and The Netherlands, 1835-1880

Société, cercle, cercle littéraire, and cercle artistique were all originally French terms which

spread to neighbouring countries. Belgium began to develop its scene of artistic societies in 1835 in Ghent with the Société Littéraire, yet the first multidisciplinary circle was founded in Brussels in 1844 by a number of musicians, sculptors, writers, painters and draughtsmen, named Cercle Artistique et Littéraire de Bruxelles (hereafter: CALB). 81 This art circle would become one of the most powerful and leading circles of Belgium, causing many other Belgian cities to follow in their footsteps. The cercles artistiques believed foremost in the unification of amateurs and practitioners of all visual art disciplines.82 Through press and publicity strategies, such as setting up their own bulletin and sending invitations to or announcements of new exhibitions, circles hoped to build relationships with journalists and sister societies, inside and outside the country. A factor that played a crucial role in this flourishing growth of art societies was the financial and official support of the Belgian government, which helped artistic circles gain official status.83 Until the 1880s, this status brought with it the obligation for all Belgian artists to become members of such a circle. In point of fact, an artistic circle was the place where artists could best promote their work, network with other artists, and make professional connections with the crème of the Belgian art scene, such as print dealers, art dealers, journalists, critics, patrons or collectors. Unfortunately these cercles artistiques had some disadvantages, especially with regards to the opportunity to exhibit. The CALB, for example selected works for exhibition on the basis of lots drawn from a painting tombola. Only after being challenged by new, more modern societies such as Société Belge des Aquarellistes (1856), Société des Artistes (1861), and

Société Libre des Beaux Arts (1868) (see illustration 2.1), did the CALB begin to actively

80

Van Kalmthout, 1998, p. 22.

81

Ibid, p. 42.

82_{Both artist-members as well as amateur members were represented in the circle‟s board. In addition, the}

multidisciplinary society was divided into various committees, each with its own particular field , responsible for organising specific activities in that field.

83

The avant-garde artist, an entrepreneur? Jan Toorop and Les XX's exhibition at the Haagsche Kunstkring