YALE UNIVERSITY
ART LIBRARY

CATALOGUE OF PAINTINGS
BY IGNACIO ZULOAGA

a

CATALOGUE OF PAINTINGS
BY IGNACIO ZULOAGA

EXHIBITED BY
THE HISPANIC SOCIETY OF AMERICA,
MARCH 21 TO APRIL 11, 1909

WITH INTRODUCTION BY
CHRISTIAN BRINTON

THE HISPANIC SOCIETY OF AMERICA
NEW YORK 1909

Copyright, 1909, by
The Hispanic Society
of America

IGNACIO ZULOAGA
BY
CHRISTIAN BRINTON \

IGNACIO ZULOAGA

NOTHING could be more immature than the
contention that art should aim to be cosmo
politan in its expression. As a matter of fact there
never was a time when indiscriminate international
ism has not produced inferior results, or, conversely,
when a wholesome nationalism has failed to give
artistic achievement redoubled strength and signifi
cance. The most salutary influence in contemporary
art is precisely the realization that his innate and
fundamental racial endowment is the artist's richest
possession, — that it is, in short, his very reason for
being. Fortunately for painting in particular, those
conventions which have long exerted a dominant
sway over the destinies of art are rapidly losing their
ascendancy, and there are hence springing up on all
sides and in every land groups of painters who now
depict whatever they see fit and in whatever manner
their individual predilections may dictate. A certain
L 7 3

uniformity of technical standard must, of course, be
maintained, but beyond that there should be, and
happily there are, at last, no rules or restrictions.
Europe to-day offers the invigorating spectacle of an
almost complete decentralization in manners esthetic.
Not only are the larger countries in a sense inde
pendent of each other, but each state is in turn
divided into districts where the painters of a given
locality reflect with abundant zest the special charac
teristics of their surroundings. Throughout. Ger
many, Italy, Russia, Belgium, Scotland, Scandinavia,
and, to a- broader extent, France itself, there are at
present bands of fearless spirits who are daily enrich
ing the great treasury of art with their sound and
stimulating local as well as national flavor. Their
cohesive power is in most cases strong; they work
together and usually under the direct inspiration of
some sturdy and fecund soul who has sprung from
humble soil and consecrated to art his singleness of
aim and personal intensity of vision. Modern Ger
many can proudly point to Menzel and Bocklin, that
diverse and protean pair who crystallized, each after
his own fashion, a special segment of the Teutonic
esthetic consciousness. In Italy it was Giovanni
Segantini who gave his life even, for a similar cause,
and in Ilya Repin Russia found her long-looked-for

Portraits de la famille d'un toreador gitane

Mademoiselle Lucienne Breval dans Carmen

champion of the native genius. In Belgium it was
Constantin Meunier who rose from that black and
stifling industrial arena and modeled his heroic
miners and puddlers, while Scotland boasts her Glas
gow School, and Norway her Kroyer and Weren-
skj01d. It is such men as these who are the veritable
makers of modern art, and it is due to their invincible
nationalism as much as to any other factor that their
work owes its singular appeal. There is no thought
here of minimizing the part France has played in the
evolution of current esthetic development. It must
be acknowledged at the outset that her mission has
been the most important of all, that she has literally
animated the world with fresh and illuminating
ideas. In large measure she has been the inspiration
of every nation in turn, and this in itself is perhaps
greater than anything else she has accomplished.
Men like Courbet and Manet were universal art
forces, and yet even they, in the early stages of their
progress, were glad to look elsewhere, and, strangely
enough, it was to an old and in this respect new land
that they turned for initial guidance.
Partly because of her geographical isolation, and
partly also for reasons economic and social, Spain
was the last European country to feel the thrill of
latter-day artistic rejuvenation. The conquest of the

Pyrenees and the growing stability of the govern
ment have, however, within a few brief decades
wrought vast changes throughout the Peninsula.
The Spain of to-day is not, as many fancy, a nation
with a past but no future. Contrary to ignorant opin
ion the country is vigorous, progressive, and is making
rapid strides politically, commercially, and artistically.
Resplendent dreams of world-conquest have been re
nounced, the Church is preferring to earlier secular
activities higher spiritual aims, and internal dissension
has been almost entirely eradicated. Everywhere
across the face of this luminous land are signs of re
generation, and in almost every form of activity is the
latent vitality of the race asserting itself. The Span
iard himself is changing. He has in some measure
ceased to be fatalistic, and picturesque Carlist and
lethargic gipsy are alike making way for the ener
getic man of affairs. High statesmanship has beenj
shown in the treatment of the currency and th?
finances. Economic reform accompanies educational
advance. Under Alfonso XIII the never destroyed
vitality of the Spanish people is asserting itself,
and Spain is to-day looking toward the future with
mingled hope and confidence. "Resucita," the clos^
ing note of Galdos's stirring drama "Electra," ii
clearly the watchword of modern Spain, and in a

Paulette en danseuse

Pepillo, le matador

sense it epitomizes the situation as no other expres
sion can. This coming to fresh life, this resurrection,
rebirth, or whatever it may fittingly be termed, dates
of course from the Revolution of '68, "La Gloriosa,"
as it is fondly called, which was logically followed by
the adoption of the constitution in '76. Since these
two recent and memorable events, to which may be
added a third — that of the Spanish-American war —
Spain has substantially become another nation. She
is responding with alacrity to the resistless call of
progress and advancement, and seems, indeed, bent
upon compensating for any dignified somnolence in
the past by taking firm hold upon the issues of the
present. She is at last learning to look within, not
without, and that spirit of enterprise which once led
her so ruthlessly to subjugate other countries is now
guiding her toward the saner path of self-conquest.
It is to her art as well as to her literature that
one must turn in order to discover the image of this
New Spain, so long sought across hostile frontier and
distant sea, only to be found at last among the bare
sierras, the purple vineyards, and the stern, proud
hearts of the home country. It is the painter as well
as the novelist or dramatist who well reflects the
spirit of the hour and the vivid intensity of contem
porary life and scene. The tradition of Spanish art
on

at its best has ever been a tradition of fearless and
masterful graphic realism. From first to last this art
has remained objective and positive. It was for long
periods ardently Christian, but was never enslaved
by the sensuous afterglow of Renaissance paganism,
nor has it since become sentimental or fanciful.
Painters of other lands have rejoiced in the widest
latitude ; the truly Spanish artist has from the be
ginning known but two sources of inspiration-
Church and Country. Imagination has thus played
little or no part in the triumphs of these great chron
iclers whose canvases give such a complete picture.of
society no matter what the epoch may be. One after
another each of them has recorded with unflinching
accuracy the facts of that life which lay ever near at
hand. El Greco, Zurbaran, Velazquez, and Goya are
the glorious names in this conquest of truth, tinged as
it has been by the severity of less tolerant times, the
aristocratic dignity of the Court, or the restless tur
moil of revolutionary days. No Spanish historian
has been quite able to convey that sense .of verity
which characterizes the reticent, dark-robed nobles
of El Greco, the mystic exaltation of Zurbaran's
monks, themagic unity of Velazquez's vision, or the
sardonic levity of Goya's impulsive satires upon a
decadent monarchy. There are two notes which this '
on

Candida riant

MMMMM

Mercedes

art always sounds, the note of reality and the note of
fluent pictorial passion, and that Spanish painting
which does not emphasize these twin qualities is un
worthy and ignoble.
From the passing . of Goya to the present time
Spanish art suffered a humiliating eclipse. It echoed
in anemic half-hearted fashion the classic and
romantic pretensions of her neighbor across the
Pyrenees, but nowhere revealed healthy, conscious
vitality. It required a great national quickening
along all lines of activity before painting could
regain her rightful position, and it was this move
ment alone which gave birth to the men of to-day.
There had been a few worthy pioneers such as Alenza
and Lopez, but they were unable to rescue art from
the course whence it had aimlessly meandered after
the death of Goya. The debased Davidism of Jose
de Madrazo, the facile, sparkling bric-a-brac of For-
tuny, and the theatric naturalism of Pradilla and
Casado del Alisal had successively vitiated Penin
sular taste almost beyond redemption, and nothing
less racial or less replete with reality than the can
vases of Sorolla, Zuloaga, Bilbao, and Anglada
could possibly have revived the esthetic prestige of
the country as a whole. They are patriots as well as
painters, these aggressive innovators. They are chil-
on

dren of "La Gloriosa," each of them, and their art
throbs with native warmth and intensity. They
labor for the most part out of doors in the sun, not in
the gloomy corridors and great, dim chambers of
palace or monastery. Within the past decade they
have utterly broken with influences Gallic' and
Italian. Names which a few years back loomed large
— Palmaroli, Rico, Zamacois, Villegas, Benlliure,
Jimenez, Sanchez-Perrier — and all the pretty apos
tles of Fortunyism have been rapidly fading- before
the dazzling solar effulgence of Sorolla and the mas
terly impersonations of Zuloaga. Inspiration with
them has been found at home, not abroad. Even the
student no longer deems it essential to go to Rome or
Paris. Madrid, Barcelona, Valencia, and Seville
offer more consistent and congenial opportunities, for
development. And, at the root of all, a splendid
nationalism has at last replaced an internationalism
whose fruits are ever scarce and ever bitter-sweet.
In 1870, the year Fortuny's "La Vicaria," that
consummate triumph of rococo artificiality, was. first
exhibited before the delighted Parisians, there was
born, on July 26th, in a vast, rambling sixteenth-'
century house at Eibar, in the Basque province, of
Guipuzcoa, the foremost of this redoubtable band, of
Spanish nationalists. While it need not, for num-
on

Le chanteur montmartrois, "Buffalo"

Paulette en costume de ville

erous subtle reasons, be claimed that Ignacio Zuloaga
is the greatest living Spanish painter, there is little
question that he is the most able and convincing
champion of the older traditions of Spanish pictorial
art. Others may have wandered farther in quest of
more modern technical methods ; Zuloaga has re
mained steadfastly rooted to the soil of his native
land and to the austere, haughty, and defiantly dra
matic spirit of her esthetic expression. It is no mere
accident that this young man should turn toward the
sovereign masters of the past for inspiration and
counsel. It is not by mere chance, but owing to the
immutable laws of social evolution, that he to-day
continues almost unbroken that fundamental artistic
legacy which has produced such men as El Greco,
Velazquez, and Goya. Ignacio Zuloaga comes of an
energetic, creative family, the direct descendants of
that ancient Celtiberian stock which early settled on
the southern slopes of the Pyrenees and has never
migrated and never been dislodged. After losing
their cherished fueros the Basques turned with superb
self-reliance to industrial problems, and it was in this
atmosphere of sturdy and independent initiative that
Ignacio grew to manhood. For generations the
Zuloagas have been craftsmen of the highest type.
They constitute what may be called a species of in-
on

dustrial dynasty. The boy's great-grandfather, Bias,
was armorer to the Life Guards, his grandfather,
Eusebio, a famous chiseler, armorer, and decorator of
his day, was the veritable organizer of the Armeria-
Real of Madrid, and his father, Placido, became the
foremost artist of Europe along the same lines.:
Placido Zuloaga, who was a pupil of his father and
also of Lienard, was virtually the rediscoverer of the
art of damascene, and his handiwork to-day adorns'
most of the museums and royal palaces of Europe;
He was a friend of Carpeaux and Barye. He studied
for long periods in Paris and Dresden, and developed
consummate skill in all manner of ornamentation in
bas-relief, chiseling, and incrustirig gold. and silver on
iron or. steel, besides sketching and modeling with
supreme facility. Placido's brother Daniel is head
of the now flourishing pottery revival at Segovia,
and'other. brothers have devoted themselves to brush
and canvas.
With such family proclivities it was inevitable that
Ignacio should have taken to artistic expression in
some form or another, accustomed, as he was from
childhood, to vigorous, conscious, and skilfully
directed creative effort, tempered always by the
zealous conservatism of the past. Yet, despite his
acknowledged position in the world of art, Placido
on

Les sorcieres de San Millan

10

Femmes au balcon (I)

Zuloaga was not a rich man, and, with the sound
practical instinct of his people, desired that the boy
should embrace some more lucrative calling. This
polished, magnetic, and self-willed parent, who was a
typical modern Cellini, first decided that his son mus't
prepare for a business career, then that he should
study engineering, and ultimately compromised in
favor of architecture. Against each of these proposi
tions the youthful Ignacio, who also had opinions of
his own, stoutly rebelled, with the result that he was
somewhat summarily placed in the workshop to learn,
as a long line of ancestors before him had done, the
intricate secrets of ornamental metal-work. It was
during this period that his native town was rapidly
winning her title as the Toledo of the north, and on
all sides could be heard the hum of fly-wheel and the
sound of the forge. With the persistence and ten
acity of his race Ignacio labored manfully along until
able to support himself by the deft labor of eye and
hand. His life was substantially that of a common
apprentice. There was little time for pelota or other
favorite pastimes, and, though he attended an occa
sional bull-fight and enjoyed watching the lithe dig
nity of the workmen or villagers as they paused by
the wayside for a friendly chat, he did not think, in
any specific way, of placing on record that varied
on

existence which teemed about him in such subtle and
colorful variety. He was quietly laying the founda
tions of future achievement, but art, as such, lingered
dormant within his brooding consciousness.
There is a distinct possibility that Ignacio Zuloaga
might have remained at Eibar and eventually have ,
succeeded to the paternal position had it not been for
a chance visit to Madrid, where he saw for the first
time the incomparable masterpieces of the Prado.
That which had so long been asleep suddenly awoke;
and the lad at once felt impelled to become a painten
Without in the least favoring the youth's ambitions
his father none the less bought him the requisite mate-i
rials, and day after day the embryo artist haunted the
galleries, finally, without previous instruction, pro--'
dttcihg a surprisingly reverent and efficient copy of
one of El Greco's aristocratic, black-robed noblemen.
Instinctively he" had gone straight to the sovereign
treasure-house of Spanish painting, stepping at once
into that splendid patrimony which had for years
been neglected. From the very outset he identified
himself with all that was most enduring and signifi
cant in the art of his country, nor did any subsequent
change of scene cause him to forsake his destined
field. Yet notwithstanding this early proof of ability,
neither Placido Zuloaga nor his wife had any desire
on

II

Vendangeurs revenant le soir

Vieilles maisons a Haro

to see their son launched upon an artistic career. His
efforts were ridiculed and his ambitions frowned
upon. Still, he persisted in his resolve, and was at
last reluctantly permitted to depart for Rome. He
was but eighteen at the time, and from thenceforth
determined to live upon his own slender resources,
which were now and then fortunately augmented by
the little help a fond mother could surreptitiously send
him. His going to Rome in the footsteps of Fortuny,
Pradilla, Villegas, and other Spanish painters proved,
however, like Sorolla's experience of a few years be
fore, a distinct artistic misfit, for there was little this
restless montahes could accomplish under the over
powering shadow of Raphael and Michelangelo.
After floundering hopelessly about for a few months
and suffering at least from academic malaria, he
wisely turned his face toward Paris. For reasons
less picturesque than economic he first settled on the
heights of Montmartre, taking lodgings in the rue
Cortot, directly behind the Sacre-Cceur. Although he
was fortunate enough to gain admittance to the Old
Salon of 1890, Zuloaga, during the early years of his
apprenticeship, betrayed a not unnatural lack of con
viction. His initial attempts were full of conflicting
ideals and cruel hesitation. He began painting por
traits, street scenes, and peasants in the open air. He
on

had hoped to find legitimate inspiration among the
French painters of the period, but, saving for such
advanced modernists as Gauguin and Toulouse-
Lautrec, he could see little to admire in the work of
those about him. He sold nothing and lived in prac
tical isolation, almost his only companions being two
compatriots, a painter, and the inimitable Paco
d'Urio, both as proud and as poverty-stricken as him
self. During these dark, hopeless days which he
cannot, even now, recall without a shudder, he moved
many times, usually by request, living by turns in
the rue Durantin, and the rue des Saules, and also
frequenting the little Spanish colony on the lie St.
Louis, of which Rusihol was a member. At intervals
he collected in his own studio in the rue Duperre, or
in one he could borrow for the occasion, a number of
canvases which he showed to his friends and a stray
dealer or so, yet invariably without pecuniary results.
Although he failed to dispose of a single picture dur
ing this bitter and shabby probation, he succeeded,
however, in making his appearance at the Salon du
Champ de Mars, in 1893, with two subjects, one being
a portrait of his grandmother, and the other that of
"The Dwarf of Eibar, Don Pedro." He had mean
while crossed the Channel to London, where, through
the kind offices of Mr. Oscar Browning and other
on

13

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Portrait de Marthe Morineau en Espagnole
14
friends and admirers of his father, he managed to
secure several commissions for portraits, and with
this welcome assistance returned to Spain, making
Seville his headquarters.
Meager and unhappy as it was, it is more than
probable that Zuloaga's Parisian exile proved of
benefit, for as soon as he returned to his native land his
starved artistic soul began to expand. It was there,
beneath the burning blue of the Iberian sky, not amid
that delicate, pearl-gray mist which envelops Paris,
that he regained confidence in himself. He must have
been hungering all the while for home, for he now
saw afresh the color and felt anew the fascination of
life in every quarter of the Andalusian capital. True
son of Spain that he was, he devoted himself to the
rendering of local life and scene in all their primal
flavor and accent. A pronounced gift for individual
characterization already animated those first some
what rigid attempts, which were, even then, instinct
with assertive force and histrionic veracity. It was
in 1895, under the auspices of Le Bare de Boutteville,
that the fruits of this Sevillian sojourn were exhibited
to the Parisian public, and yet, save for the discrimi
nating admiration of the American painter Dannat
and one or two enlightened amateurs, the event
passed unnoted. The French press and public were
on

not prepared to welcome a talent which was shortly
to capture all Europe, nor were the artist's years of
obscure endeavor yet at an end. Moreover, the Spain
which this young Basque painted with such subdued
richness and refined, silver-black severity was not- the
Spain to which the French, or indeed the Spaniards,
were accustomed. This Espana Blanca had nothing
in common" with the glittering rococo daintiness of
Fortuny, or the studio commercialism of the insuffer
able Jules Worms. Although treating everyday
themes, Ignacio Zuloaga was also, in a sense, bridg
ing, over the past. He was deliberately going back
to Goya and even beyond him. He was reading
Peninsular types and traits closer and deeper than
they had been read for nearly a century.
Discouraged by this continued lack of recognition,
and despairing, not of his art, but of his ability to
earn even a modest living by the brush, Zuloaga was
for the time being forced to renounce painting.
Though he might have subsisted upon remittances
from Eibar, or have returned at any moment to that
great house with its massive stairway and spacious
rooms, he was too proud to think of anything in the
nature of a compromise. Possessing a passion for
the past and all that appertains to bygone times, he
struggled along for awhile as a dealer in antiques
on

Portrait de Madame Bourdin

IS

i6

Portrait of Mr. F.

and appraiser of those objets d'art in which Seville
so abounds. Meeting with scant success, he was next
compelled to accept a position as bookkeeper for a
mining company, but this, too, proving an unpropi-
tious expedient, he again found himself adrift.
There was literally nothing this resolute and volun
tary exile would not, and did not, suffer rather than
acknowledge defeat, and finally, like many another
of his courageous, clean-limbed countrymen, he en
tered the bull-ring as a pupil of the famous Carmona.
Yet, despite a brilliant beginning, Zuloaga was not
destined to duplicate the triumphs of Cuchares or
Lagartijillo, for having unfortunately been gored by
his eighteenth adversary, he in consequence promised
his distracted mother never to reenter the corrida.
It is necessary to recount in detail the picturesque
and stirring episodes of Zuloaga's career for, more
than with almost any other artist of the day, is his
work the product of just such varied and stimulating
experiences. Each circumstance in turn contributed
something to his development, and in no other way
could he have attained that breadth of view and vigor
of characterization which are the essence of his art.
For nearly three years he did not exhibit anything of
moment, though in 1897 he sent to the Societe Na-
tionale a portrait of himself in hunting costume, a
on-

work of which he is not, at the present writing, espe
cially proud. It was while recuperating in ascetic yet
languorous Segovia after his brief essay in tauromachy
that Zuloaga returned to the palette with renewed
enthusiasm, executing, among other canvases, the
memorable "Before the Bull-fight," or, as it is vari
ously known in Spanish, "Vispera de Toros" or "Antes
de la Corrida," which he sent to the Barcelona Exhi
bition of 1898. This particular picture proved the
turning-point of his artistic life. He had already
shown with success at the Catalan capital his
"Amiges," which had been purchased for the Muse©
Nacional, and, greatly to his satisfaction, he now
learned that, owing largely to the enlightened efforts
of the Antwerp painter De Vriendt, who was a mem
ber of the jury, his "Antes de la Corrida" managed
to carry off the gold medal. The following year he
was. equally fortunate, the triple portrait of "Daniel
Zuloaga and his Daughters" being the distinctive fea
ture of the Salon and later finding its home in the
Luxembourg Museum, which has since become so
partial to the younger Spanish school. The painter-
bull-fighter's long and hazardous prologue was at
last over; he settled down to his life-task in a mood
of manful sincerity, and with each effort revealed in
creasing decision of choice and distinction of style.
on

Portrait of Mrs. F.

17

i8

Portrait of Mrs. F., Jr.

Like Fortuny, who caught his single gleam of truth
and reality from the sun-scorched battle-fields of
Morocco, it required a goodly taste of that colorful,
animated outdoor existence which his countrymen so
love, to vivify the art of Ignacio Zuloaga. Nothing
he had witnessed during that active, observant period
was ever lost or ever went for naught. The entire
panorama of popular life and character was at his
finger-tips. He was at last able to give in its fullness
that intensified impression of things visible which has
ever been the dominant note of Spanish painting.
With such encouragement as he was beginning to
receive abroad, and also at Barcelona, it was but
natural, after having so long been held in abeyance,
that the artist's productive powers should have forth
with asserted themselves in no halting manner. Dur
ing the next few years he painted almost wholly in
Segovia and Andalusia, devoting himself with fervid
energy to the depiction of those solemn or sprightly,
those sullen or vivacious, native types which have
since become the insignia of his work the world over.
Once launched upon its course his star flashed rapidly
across the firmament of Continental art. Spain alone
hesitated to recognize him, not the least of his early
humiliations being the refusal of the local jury to
accept his "Before the Bull-fight" and other canvases
on

for admission to the Spanish section of the Paris
Exposition of 1900. On its appearance at Barcelona
the picture had been purchased by a couple of whole
hearted admirers and presented to Sehor Santiago
Rusihol, who placed it in his museum, Cau-Ferrat, at
Sitjes in Catalufia. Sehor Rusihol, wishing to
oblige the painter, willingly loaned the canvas' for
exhibition purposes, and great was their combined
chagrin when the jury refused it on the ridiculous
pretext of its size, at the same time brazenly admit
ting numerous larger compositions of appalling
mediocrity. The insult which he received at the
hands of his countrymen was nevertheless in a
measure compensated "for by the triumphant reception
of the rejected pictures at the Libre Esthetique.in
Brussels and the subsequent preemption of "Before
the "Bull-fight" for the Modern Gallery of the Bel
gian capital. -And so flattering was the offer made
for the picture that Sehor Rusinol generously re
nounced his prior rights, later accepting in exchange
the hardly less interesting "El Reparto del Vino."
Considering the condition of Spanish painting at
the time- it was hardly strange that his compatriots
should have failed to appreciate the art of Zuloaga.
His pronounced anti-academic propensities, his defiant
independence of attitude, and the fact that he had
on

Portrait of Mr. F. Jr.

19

Ma cousine Esperanza (I)

never risked formalizing his talent by tedious study
at the schools were points which these rigid gentle
men were unable to overlook. Barcelona, as has
already been noted, was the sole Spanish city to wel
come the new-comer, and for Barcelona he has always
retained a special fondness, sending, to the Exposi
tion Internacional de Bellas Artes, of 1907, no less
than thirty- four subjects, which occupied, in all, two
entire rooms. There is an undoubted affinity between
the intrepid Basque and the progressive Catalan, and
this at least partially accounts for the sympathetic
recognition Zuloaga has always encountered in this
particular city.
Although Spain as a whole is still hostile to the
painter, he has, during the past few seasons, proved
an immense favorite at each Salon, besides exhibiting
with continued success at the current displays in Ber
lin, Dresden, Frankfort, Munich, Vienna, Venice, and
London, where he invariably divides notice with the
strongest and most advanced men of the day. He
frequently figures at the International Society of
Painters, Sculptors, and Gravers, and also at the
Societe Nouvelle, while at the Diisseldorf Exhibition
of 1904 he was awarded the distinction, accorded
only to Menzel, Rodin, and himself, of being assigned
a special room where eighteen representative canvases
on

were placed on view. Scores of public and private
museums throughout Europe possess pictures from
this fertile brush, and there are at the present moment
few living artists whose productions are more sought
after or which command higher figures than those
of this painter who has not yet reached the age of
forty, and who, barely a dozen years ago, was unable
to boast a single patron or purchaser. A weaker
man would have succumbed under a similar weight
of obloquy and neglect. Zuloaga persevered, and in
the end conquered for himself an indisputable posi
tion in the world of modern painting.
There should be scant difficulty in accounting for
the vogue of this art which is at once so individual
and so traditional, so personal and yet so deeply an
chored in the past. It was an ethnic as well as an
esthetic thrill which the young painter gave a public
long satiated with studio abstractions and academic
conventions. It is to the lasting honor of Ignacio
Zuloaga that he has dedicated his gifts to the delinea
tion of episodes and incidents with which he is
familiar, not to themes for which he has little
sympathy and of which he possesses no first-hand
knowledge. That quality which this work above all re
flects is an abundant racial flavor. Always regional,
always topical, there is about these paintings an eth-
on

Pelerin

Juge de village

nographic fidelity which is unmistakable. There is
no ill-digested cosmopolitanism here; this art not
only speaks Spanish, as it were, but has mastered
idiom and dialect as well. Not only is the nationality
of these sitters at once apparent, it is also possible to
tell at a glance from what province they come and to
what particular social stratum they belong. In
Zuloaga's canvases can be studied as nowhere, save
from the originals themselves, those deep-rooted
racial factors which have molded into distinct types
the seductive Andalusian, the aggressive Basque, the
haughty Castilian, or the languorous and passionate
Segovian. The art of Zuloaga, like that of his great
predecessors, is an art which is based upon observa
tion, which is founded not upon vague esthetic
formulae but upon the definite aspect of the world
external. Like the solemn, disdainful Velazquez,
Zuloaga cares for little besides truth and a compelling
manipulative mastery. His work is never complicated
by abstract ideas. He never forsakes the realm
of actuality or of highly specialized feeling. And
yet, while this art takes its material direct from life,
it is itself by no means an abjectly realistic reflection
of life. Contrary to his more prompt and explicit
Valencian contemporary Sorolla, the painter of Eibar
composes his pictures with consistent deliberation.
on

Always sensitive to the efficacy of a well-balanced
design, he detests everything which suggests a servile
copy of nature. There is nothing instantaneous in
the entire gamut of Zuloaga's art. He arranges each
canvas with an eye for dramatic climax, using land
scape and other accessories merely to heighten' and
enforce the desired impression. He is a realist- only
in so far as reality coincides with his conception of
the task in hand. In the treatment of single figure
or of larger schemes Zuloaga displays the same full
ness of vision and completeness of suggestion, i Be
hind his' expressive silhouettes, just as behind
"Philip" or "Baltasar Carlos," sweep the tawny hills
of Castile and Aragon. A sense of receding space is
always one of the special charms of his outdoor pic
tures. Each and all they are effective in placing and
adjustment, and, while the painter makes no undue
sacrifices to insure his appeal, he seems to possess, in
a superlative degree, the scenic gift.
Despite his independence of spirit, Zuloaga has not
escaped, nor does he wish to escape, the broader con
ventions of Peninsular painting in general. He is
always seeking, and finding, more or less marked
similarities between present existence and the noble
and salient characteristics of the past. He asked the
immortal "Consuelo" of the Bremen Museum to pose
on

23

Candida serieuse

Mendiant espagnni

24

for him because he saw in her "a certain Goyesque
air," and, frankly, the faces one meets in these huge,
affirmative pictures are the faces known to Spanish
art as well as to Spanish society for centuries. Un
broken and scarcely unchanged throughout the ages
have come down to us profiles that are Cesarean, a
dusky beauty that is Saracenic, and the erect carriage
of cavaliers whose insolent grace was the marvel of
many a European battle-field. If Zuloaga's men and
women suggest those of El Greco, Velazquez, or Goya
it is because he is depicting their actual descendants,
not merely imitating the modes of former days. The
grave grandees of each pintor de camara still walk
the streets of Madrid muffled in their dark cloaks, the
pallid esthetics of Zurbaran still live among the Anda-
lusian sierras, and the same dwarfs and beggars that
look at you from the walls of the Prado also shuffle
by in tattered swarms, or sun themselves beside a
church door. It is this racy and picturesque life
which Zuloaga seeks above all else to place on record,
and it is these popular types unspoiled by ruthless
modernism which he pursues into the farthest corners
of his native land. In this zealous quest of congenial
models he hesitates at nothing. He will haunt for
hours a fiesta on the outskirts of some provincial
town, or hasten away to the mountains, passing
on

months at a time with smugglers and muleteers, with
the superstitious fanatics of Anso in the extreme
north of Aragon or with the monkish cutthroats of
Las Baluecas, a little village on the southern boundary
line of Salamanca. His experiences have been innu
merable, and he does not fail to recount them with a
fund of descriptive detail. His hostess during some
forty days spent at Anso was none other than a pro
fessional sorceress, and in the course of such pilgrim
ages he has often been forced to subsist upon roots
like the poorest native, and has at times encountered
irredeemable ignorance and suspicion. A few years
since he was actually accused of being a countei feiter,
and not long afterward, while alone in his automobile,
was mistaken for the devil and knocked insensible by
a vicious and well-directed hail of missiles. . It is
unknown, almost inaccessible Spain that he loves be
yond all, and the most savage and solitary spots in
the kingdom are as familiar to him as the Rambla or
the Calle de las Sierpes.
It is by such means and such means only that
Ignacio Zuloaga could have selected that rich and
varied assortment of models which give his art its
singular and often sinister distinction. All Spain lies
open to him, but from all Spain he chooses only that
which is congenial to his temperament. A street
on

II,

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Le vieux marcheur
25
26

A St.-Cloud

scene, a group of manolas leaning from the balcony,
or a glimpse of the crowded corrida are sufficient to
furnish him with the requisite graphic essentials for
compositions into which he pours all the magical pic
torial genius, actual and inherited, at his command.
Considering the fact that he had himself been a mata
dor, his early canvases naturally depicted bull-fights
and bull-fighters, "Before the Bull-fight," "The Bull
fight in my Village," and the fluent and elegant
"Promenade after the Bull-fight," which figured so
notably at the Salon of 1901, forming an unparalleled
trinity of its kind. During- those first expansive years
when he was winning his initial laurels in Paris, Bar
celona, Brussels, and Berlin his vivacity and industry
were little short of phenomenal. He passed with
zest from one theme to another. The success of
"Daniel Zuloaga and his Daughters," with its dark-
clad figures standing sharply against the blue Sego-
vian sky and wide-horizoned plain, was quickly
followed by canvases which for versatile beauty of
coloration and flexible, authoritative handling he has
scarcely surpassed. In the old, lean days when he
exhibited in the rue Lepeletier, it was "White Spain"
which he painted. As his eye became more eager and
his palette more opulent he added tone after tone.
He attempted none of the clear, prismatic triumphs of
on

his colleagues ; he rather grew enamoured of deep reds,
raisin browns, olive greens, orange yellows, and the
swarthy hue of countenances long exposed to sun and
wind. It was a defiant, self-sufficient art which this
young Basque sent out into the world. Something in
the nature of a subtle contempt for less lavishly en
dowed talents seems always to cling about these
canvases which, one and all, vibrate with the rhythmic
intensity of the Peninsular temperament.
Although he painted with ready distinction family
groups and society, as it were, on dress parade, Zu
loaga also descended into that dark and semi-savage
underworld of love, passion, and hatred which for
ever seethes about the roots of the Spanish tree of life.
He knows intimately the ma jas and giianas of the
Sevillian Triana, and naturally they, too, figure in
his work with their mouths red as open wounds, their
glistening, carnivorous teeth, their avid glances, and
insinuating gait. Here also has Zuloaga extended
the scope of his art and added not a little to the
treasury of human emotion. It is true that he had a
predecessor even here in the tense and mercurial
Goya, but Zuloaga's feeling for color is. far more
symphonic than that of the elder man, though they
both share, in treating- such themes, a similar acerbity
on

2.7

Castillo de Turegano

and nervous alertness of touch. As he grows more
and more familiar with these creatures his accent be
comes more pronounced. The infectious and some
what ingenuous coquetry of "Lola la Ghana," now
in the Marcel collection in Paris, blends into a more
insistent artifice with "Pastorita," belonging to Herr
-Koch of Frankfort, while the sprightly anticipation
of "Preparing for the Bull-fight" acquires quite an
other significance in the famous "Coqueteria de
Ghana," owned by Herr Rothermundt of Dresden.
The action, too, acquires more rapidity, the expectant
charm of "Consuelo's" pose becoming alive with
frenetic fire in "The Spanish Dances." While we
have, in "Tentacion," a manifest tribute to Goya, this
particular phase of Zuloaga's art stands well upon its
own feet, achieving its mature apotheosis in such can
vases as "A Street Scene" and the "Calle de Amor."
Just as in the "Promenade after the Bull-fight" he
attained the fullness of his expression in treating such
subjects, so in the "Calle de Amor" he again demon
strates his ability to compose a large canvas in quite
another manner and with types wholly different. He
has frankly no equal in depicting these wilful, unre
deemed creatures whose badges are a thick coating of
rice powder and a saffron-hued mantilla, and who
on

ever lie in wait for the weak or the unwary, yet who
never found their true interpreter until Zuloaga ren
dered them in all their flaunting, instinctive character.
As his art attained increasing finality his types
naturally became more highly individualized. The
broad, scenic quality of the "Promenade after the
Bull-fight" and the somewhat studied grouping o^
the "Calle de Amor" found their antitheses in numer
ous works dedicated to single figures only, among
them being such obviously masculine creations as the
picador, the matador, and the torero. For blunt,
ruthless power of characterization the scarred, leath- •
ery countenance of "El Coriano" occupies a place
quite by itself in this gallery of corrida heroes, nor
has the painter since excelled the stolid, standing ' ,
likeness of "El Buholero," about whom clings the ;
mingled dust and blood of countless bull-ring com- .
bats. This latter picture, of which Herr Sparkuhle
of Bremen is the fortunate possessor, has been re
cently supplemented by the "Vaquero," also a full
length and a further demonstration of Zuloaga's sym
pathy with kindred types.
Yet another territory has been conquered by this
restless though consistent seeker after local color,
and it is the shabby, shifting kingdom of laconic
dwarfs, ragged mendicants, bronzed water-carriers,
on

28

Sepulveda

and itinerant venders of every description who form
such an integral portion of Spanish outdoor life.
Needless to add, he is as much at home in the province
of the picaresque as anywhere else, for it is a world
which has been peculiarly dear to Iberian author and
artist since the author of Lazarillo and Murillo.
For anything comparable to the early portrait
of "The Dwarf of Eibar, Don Pedro," to "Los
Bebedores" of the National Gallery of Berlin, or to
the sun-tanned and doubtless salacious interlocutor in
"A Smart Retort," it is, however, necessary to go
straight to Velazquez. It is the painter of "The
Topers" of the Prado and kindred compositions, not
the softly affable Murillo who could, when he wished,
reveal a like fund of sardonic strength and stark
brutality of statement. It has been Zuloaga's good
fortune to have followed certain of these hereditary
types still farther afield,and in doing so he has broad
ened as well as intensified the range of his art. Even
beside such convincingly realized impersonations as
"El Coriano" and "El Buholero" take just place a
number of single figure studies, which include "The
Image Seller," "The Honey Vender," "The Pilgrim,"
"The Watchman of Segovia," with his staff and lan
tern, and a much older picture entitled "The Poet,
Don Miguel," which has found its home in Vienna.
on

? '?

They are all trenchant and full of surety of stroke.
Old Spain rises vividly before you in gazing at these
canvases. They form a priceless series of docu
ments for the future historian, and, to the simple
lover of art, they carry their own incomparable
graphic message.
For a long time, as may readily be imagined,
Zuloaga maintained no regular studio, preferring to
carry about him over the rugged face of Spain
brushes, colors, and canvas, thus being free to select
whatever happened to fit his mood or his feeling for
the picturesque. He would hastily install an assort
ment of local models in a room in his hotel, in sunlit
patio, or on sloping sierra-side open to the sky and
the four winds of heaven. Of late, however, he has
divided his time between Paris and his native land,
and, fond as he is of his home at Eibar, he frankly
admits that he finds the atmosphere of Segovia more
to his esthetic liking. "I can feel something tugging
at my soul every time I leave Eibar," he says, yet it
is in the matchless, Middle-Age town of Segovia
that he elects at present to paint. He there boasts
two studios, the first vast, imposing, and gloomy,
consisting of nothing less than the nave of the an
cient church of San Juan de los Caballeros, an old
Roman structure abandoned since the days of Philip
on

t ii

¦ ha*.

Ill, the other being the Canonjia, a lordly resi
dence with great thick walls and windows overlook
ing the wide, sweeping plain of Castile dotted with
convents and cut by the sinuous windings of the
Eresma. He remains in the church until the Novem
ber frosts drive him forth, whereupon he repairs to
his atelier in the Canonjia, and there in seclusion
works upon canvases which more and more reflect
the imperishable qualities of an art whose prestige
he seems destined to uphold. His temperament is
yearly becoming at once more creative and more re
flective, and while other men may champion the
extremes of modernity, he confidently harks backward
to the triumphs of bygone days. Yet he is still an
insatiate wanderer. Every summer he spends several
weeks touring through Spain in his motor, often
accompanied by his stanch friend and admirer,
Auguste Rodin, who is ever enthusiastic over the
plastic grace and sculpturesque mien of even the sor
riest wayfarer who, as a rule, comports himself like
a soldier of Spinola or, indeed, some far-off Arab
tribesman. Next to painting, Zuloaga prefers the eager joys
and unexpected triumphs of the antiquary and col
lector, the large pecuniary rewards of recent years
having enabled him to accumulate a remarkable array
on

of Spanish masters numbering somewhat over three
hundred in all. With his knowledge of art both
classic and contemporary he has managed to acquire
for a mere pittance several of the foremost existing
examples of El Greco and Goya, besides numerous
sculptures by- Montanes de Roldan, Alonso Cano,
and other artists of their times. In order properly
to house his purchases he has built himself a minia
ture museum in the garden adjoining the family
home at Eibar, and now, as always, the source of his
inspiration remains the simple dignity of the ancient
world as continued in the shifting pageant of modern
existence. Alike in its virtues and its defects, there
are numerous affinities between the art of Zuloaga
and that of his great forebears of the brush, just as
there are between the Spain of yesterday and the
Spain of to-day. It would hence be manifestly ab
surd to expect a man of similar birth and training
to be other than he is or to paint but as he paints.
However positive, even emphatic, it may seem to us,
the ardent pictorialism of his manner is essentially
true to Peninsular life and esthetic ideals. There
are. touches here of bitterness and cruelty, of the
sanguinary and the macabresque, yet those very
qualities which may appear unreal or exaggerated to
foreign eyes are in fact reality of the most explicit
on

30

Pepilla la gitane.

kind. And herein lies the strength of an art the
graphic verity of which, though at times some
what deliberate and insistent, must in the main pass
unchallenged. And, after all, Zuloaga has amply
earned the right to depict his country and his coun
trymen as he may deem fit. He is a Spaniard
through and through. He has for years read Span
ish character in its most secret and intimate phases,
and no one knows better than he that behind the
laugh of cigarrera and the defiant bearing of torero
lurks a latent diabolism which has not yet been sub
dued. Nor does any one realize more clearly that the
majority of his own virile, sultry figures are stenciled
against a background which still remains sinister and
inscrutable. Such is Ignacio Zuloaga, and such is the art of
Zuloaga. With the exception of a stray canvas or so
exhibited at the Carnegie Institute in Pittsburg, our
citizens have until the bringing to America of the pic
tures now exhibited had no means of forming an esti
mate of the work of this powerful and gifted painter.
These forty-two canvases represent the most recent
and most significant phase of Zuloaga's art, "Mile.
Lucienne Breval dans Carmen" and "Les Sorcieres
de San Millan" being fresh from last season's Salon,
and being, in fact, the oldest pictures in the collection.
o*n

It is the same and yet another Zuloaga who here
confronts us. In studying this art, which is at once
so austere and fastidious, and so full of native ani
mal grace and nervous ferocity, it must be remem
bered, first of all, that this man is not a pure and
simple realist. There is more ancient Spanish abso
lutism here than is at first apparent, and considerably
more than there was in Zuloaga's work of a few
years since. Like Goya, and Daumier, and Millet,
Zuloaga's sense of form is primarily creative. While
rejoicing in their picturesqueness and fervid actuality,
he does not portray these types with painstaking fidelity.
His realism is broadly emotional, rather than minute,
and that which he gives us is not so much a transcrip
tion as a translation. He paints with a species of
fierce joy, and the result possesses a tyrannical seduc
tion from which it is impossible to escape. He. in
tensifies, he concentrates, he composes ; and this, and
this alone, is the secret of an art which has been per
sistently mispraised and misunderstood. Glorying in
an ancient and pregnant esthetic basis, and refractory
to external influences, this resolute Basque has gone
his way alone. During the past few years he has
wrapped himself still tighter in his native capa and
is striding along the pathway of art at his own gait,
02n

31

Ma cousine Esperanza (II)

He boasts, it is true, a few disciples, but none is in the
least worthy to follow in his footsteps.
It cannot be denied that there are certain dangers
which inevitably lurk in a method as arbitrary as
that of Zuloaga. Gathering, as he does, so much
from within and from the ever-present past, it has
been difficult for him at times to resist the temptation to
repeat certain gestures, attitudes, and scenes. These
figures do not always vibrate in unison either esthetic
or vital. There are touches of the mechanical here
and there, and the hand of the mannerist is some
times visible. For those who believe above all in
the infinite flexibility of external phenomena, there
is .too much similarity, for example, between certain
of the groups of manolas leaning upon a balcony rail,
just as there formerly was between the seated three-
quarter lengths of "Lola la Ghana" and "Pastorita."
And, while a certain consistency of feeling should, of
course, be maintained throughout, it is possible that
the carnal equation has more than once been over
emphasized, for now and then, as for instance in
"Lassitude" and "The Old Boulevardier," the scarlet
trail of the serpent spreads itself across an art never,
indeed, far removed from the by-paths of sensu
ality.
osn

Zuloaga is in no sense an outdoor painter. His
coloring reflects not the coloring of nature, but the
seductions of a richly sonorous palette. He mani
festly lacks the crisp brilliance of Eliseo Meifren and
the chromatic iridescence of Joaquin Sorolla, whose
eye is ever refreshed by the sun, the sea, and the inex
haustible variety of nature. He is innately proud,
independent, and sufficient unto himself, and it is
just possible that the sudden and wide-spread vogue
which he has enjoyed may have bred within him a
certain lack of vigilance, an element of that easeful
arrogance and superiority which has more than once
proved disastrous to the race to which he belongs.
And, finally, possessing no such salutary counter
poise as the other men enjoy, there is a possibility
of his entering and remaining within that prison-
house of passion "and fatalism at the doors of which
he now stands.
It need not be assumed that this' particular attitude
toward the' later, aspects of Zuloaga's art is in any
degree academic or suppositious. In the Goyesque
"Sorceresses of San Millan" is ample proof of this
growing diabolic tendency, and he is, furthermore,
working upon several themes of a kindred nature.
He recently substituted for the bespangled attrac
tions of the Macrena the purple vineyards of La
o*n

L'actrice Pilar Soler

32

Rioja, where he was engaged in painting the swarthy
vintners celebrating their local saturnalia, while still
another departure is that poignant conception entitled
"The Penitents," which is full of dramatic, sanguin
ary exaltation. Most significant of all are, however,
two compositions which he has barely planned. One
is called "The Victim," and shows a miserable dis
emboweled charger being led from the bull-ring by
an Andalusian picador with the cruel, indifferent
profile of a Nero, while just above him one catches
sight of a couple of manolas in white mantillas, their
penciled eyes flashing, their painted lips breaking into
heartless laughter. The other subject, which is
known as "The Processional," discloses a long file
of pilgrims in the rugged mountains of Toledo on
Resurrection Day, bearing crosses, banners, and flar
ing candles, the priests bending forward under the
weight of their vestments, the whole scene bathed in
livid yellow mist, and each frenzied face eagerly
awaiting the miracle of miracles.
It cannot fail to be obvious that art such as this
has little to do with the accepted conventions of to
day. It goes deeper into the past and looks further
into the future than most current production, and it
is needless to expect that the painter who spends his
time in the solemn nave of San Juan de los Caballeros
09n

or behind the grim walls of La Canonjia is going to
make any sort of compromise with advanced modern
ism. Zuloaga frankly admits that when these' two
latter canvases are finished they will merely offer the
critics of Madrid another opportunity to attack him,
and he is undoubtedly accurate in his prognostica?
tions. For, like most of his countrymen, they are still
steeped in Fortunyism, are still attending- "The
Spanish Marriage" or dreaming in "The Garden of
the Poets," whereas this fearless young montanes
is reviving as best he can an older and a braver tradi
tion — a tradition which began with Ribera and
which, fortunately, did not end, as many thought it
had, with Francisco Goya. In a sense the entire evo
lution of Spanish society is symbolized in the art of
Zuloaga. He epitomizes, as no painter of his time
has/that pride and chivalry, that ardor and passion,
and those dark centuries of cruelty, which constitute
the birthright of latter-day Spain. His work is a
reincarnation of the past in terms of the present. He
illustrates better than almost any one the principle of
artistic atavism. He is profoundly strong, racial,
and national because he has the courage to express
himself; and, by expressing himself, he cannot fall to
suggest that larger heritage of which he shares but
a slender portion.
o°n

I/acteur Zambilli

33

CATALOGUE

L'attente

34

NOTE
When arrangements were made with Senor Zuloaga
for the exhibition of his paintings by The Hispanic
Society similar arrangements had not been completed
with Senor Sorolla. The pictures arrived simul
taneously in New York and in order that their ex
hibition to American art lovers might not be delayed,
an arrangement was made through the kindness and
courtesy of the director of the Buffalo Fine Arts
Academy, and they were loaned for exhibition in
Buffalo. At a later time twelve additional paintings
were secured from Senor Zuloaga, and these are pre
sented now for the first time.
The Board of Trustees of
The Hispanic Society of America.
New York, March, 1909.

35

L'anachorete

CATALOGUE

(The artist has given all titles in French.)

i Portrait de la famille d'un toreador gitane
Portrait of the family of a Gipsy bull-fighter

Portrait de Mile. Lucienne Breval dans
Carmen
Portrait of Mile. Lucienne Breval in Carmen
Lucienne Breval is the pseudonym of Lucienne Breun-
wald, a lyric artist of Swiss birth resident in Paris,
who was educated at the Conservatoire and whose
principal roles are La Walkyrie, L'fitranger, Sa-
lammbo, Armide, Iphigenie and Ariane.

Paulette en danseuse
Paulette as danseuse
oo

4 Pepillo, le matador
Pepillo, the bull-fighter
The matador is specifically the bull-fighter who gives
the bull the final thrust. Pepillo, 'Joe-'

5 Candida riant
Candida laughing

6 Mercedes Mercedes

7 "Buffalo," le chanteur montmartrois
"Buffalo," the singer of Montmartre

8 Paulette en costume de ville
Paulette in walking costume

9 Les sorcieres de San Millan
The sorceresses de San Millan

io Femmes au balcon (I)
Women in a balcony (I)

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36
Femmes au balcon (II)
II Vendangeurs revenant le soir
Vintagers returning in the evening

12 Vieilles maisons a. Haro
Old houses at Haro
Haro is thirty and a half miles northwest of
Logrono. It is one of the chief places in the wine
growing district of the Rioja and has 7,900 inhab
itants.

13 Toreadors de village
Village bull-fighters

14 Portrait de Marthe Morineau en Espagnole
Portrait of Martha Morineau in the costume of a
Spanish woman

15 Portrait de Madame Bourdin
Portrait of Madame Bourdin
o5n

1 6 Portrait de Mr. F.
17 Portrait de Mrs. F.
18 Portrait de Mrs. F., Jr.
19 Portrait de Mr. F., Jr.

20 Ma cousine Esperanza (I)
My cousin Esperanza (I)

21 Pelerin Pilgrim

22 Juge de village
Village judge

23 Candida serieuse
Candida, serious

o«n

37

Le nain Gregono

24 Mendiant espagnol
Spanish beggar

25 Le vieux marcheur
The old 'Boulevardier'

26 A St. Cloud
At St. Cloud

27 Chateau de Turegano
Castle of Turegano
Turegano is a historic town of the province of Sego
via, on the highroad from Segovia to Riaza. It now
numbers 1544 inhabitants.

28 Sepulveda Sepulveda, a very ancient town of 2371 inhabitants,
northeast of Segovia.

29 La Virgen de la Pefia
09 n

30 Pepilla la gitane
Pepilla the Gipsy

31 Ma cousine Esperanza (II)
My cousin Esperanza (II)

32 L'actrice Pilar Soler
The actress Pilar Soler

33 L'acteur Zambilli
The actor Zambilli

34 L'attente Expectation

35 L'anachorete The hermit

o<>n

38

Ma cousine Candida

36 Femmes au balcon (II)
Women in a balcony (II)

^] Le nain Gregorio
The dwarf Gregorio

38 Ma cousine Candida
My cousin Candida

03n