Original portrait of the painter Mai Trung Thu, known as Mai-Thu, inscribed on verso with his emblematic monogram in colored pen: "à l'abbé Guéniart en souvenir du séjour au S.U.J.A / Maï Thu / 14.6.57".
In this handsome portrait, Mai-Thu is surrounded by his paintings on silk - no fewer than seven, including a children scene closely related to his 1965 masterpiece (Aguttes sale, September 26, 2023). The great themes that made the Hanoi School painter famous are to be found here: ideal women, children's games, tea ceremonies... Each canvas is carefully framed, often in Mai-Thu's own tireless perfectionist hands.
The painter underwent several cures in the 1950s to treat his tuberculosis, including one at the Sanatorium Universitaire Jacques Arnaud (mentioned by its acronym the inscription), where he met Father René Quéniart to whom he gifted the photograph.
Exhibition catalogue listing 66 paintings by Félix Vallotton exhibited at the Druet gallery, 20, rue Royale in Paris, from 22 April to 3 May 1929.
Light worming to the first cover, otherwise a handsome copy.
Catalogue illustrated with 7 photographic reproductions of works by Félix Vallotton.
First edition, one of 100 copies on Japon, the only deluxe issue.
Navy blue half shagreen with slight color restoration, spine with five raised bands abundantly framed in gilt, blue watered silk flyleaves, marbled endpapers and pastedowns, original wrappers and spine preserved, gilt top edge, binding signed J. Querelle.
Autograph letter dated and signed by Antonin Artaud on Le Dôme brasserie letterhead, addressed to Maurice Martin du Gard, founder and director of Nouvelles Littéraires. 29 lines in blue ink in a nervous handwriting.
Traces of folds and small marginal tears inherent to postal dispatch and handling. Minor stains at the beginning of the letter.
Antonin Artaud fought to have his article on Balthus's painting, exhibited for the first time in France, published. He fiercely defended the artist he considered his 'double', so similar were they physically and intellectually.
Exhibition catalogue of Paul Gauguin's works at the Galerie Barbazanges, 109 Faubourg Saint-Honoré, from 10 to 30 October 1919.
Illustrated with Gauguin's splendid colour self-portrait with halo and serpent, wood-engraved by Jules Germain.
Essay by François Norgelet, entitled "Gauguin au Pouldu".
Catalogue of 28 works by Gauguin, including two lithographs and two plaster casts. Minute black spot in the margin of the front wrapper.
First edition, with the author's facsimile signature and date "october 1940" on the endpaper.
Split hinges, some foxing on the endpapers.
Publisher's sand-colored cloth binding, black title-label on the front cover.
Handsome copy of this notebook reproducing 82 sketches made in London air-raid shelters during the Blitz.
Autograph postcard signed by Jean Paulhan, 22 lines written in black ink addressed to Felia Leal the publisher of "Paroles transparentes", a work by Jean Paulhan decorated with 14 original lithographs by Georges Braque.
Central fold mark on the card which represents the painting by Georges Braque entitled: Cliffs and Boat.
Jean Paulhan asks for news of his correspondent: "Are you completely cured? What if it were me instead who came to your place?" and is amazed by the smallness of Parisian taxis: "These taxis for dwarf people are dreadful..."
From the narrowness of taxis, Jean Paulhan shifts to Gallimard's editorial timidity: "Imagine that G.G. keeps neither Blanchot, nor Noël Devaulx, nor... nor... [...] Basically G.G. is becoming Hachette and all the experience of the (young) nrf has to start over."
Autograph manuscript signed by André Breton, written in black ink on two sheets of green paper.
Horizontal fold to each sheet, pagination in red pencil on the 2nd sheet. Published in the journal Art, 1955.
“Yes I have sarcasm in my words, yes I do not know how to flatter and bend my back, how to beg in official salons […] I am nothing but a braying schemer, but if I had submitted - yes I would be comfortable."
Long autograph letter dated August 1896 and signed by Paul Gauguin to painter Daniel de Monfreid. Four pages in black ink on two lined sheets.
Small tears to margins not affecting the text, traces of folds inherent to sending.
In the midst of his descent into hell, abandoned in his Tahitian artificial paradise, Gauguin feels cursed : “Definitely, I was born under a bad star.”, he laments. His quest for primitive freedom leaves him in destitution and misery. Suffering agony, the painter sends paintings to one of his few supporters, his faithful friend Daniel de Monfreid - but writes the wrong address...
Published in Lettres de Paul Gauguin à Georges-Daniel de Monfreid, 1918, p. 146, n° XXIII; our letter reveals the name of Émile Schuffenecker, his friend and associate on the Paris stock exchange and then Pont-Aven - anonymized in the published version - whom Gauguin vilifies on numerous occasions in these pages.
This exceptional missive was written in Tahiti, where the painter had returned the previous year, bidding a final farewell to the old Europe. Gauguin had just come out from a stay in hospital in Papeete to treat his bruised legs following the beating he had received in Concarneau two years earlier for defending his muse, Annah the Javanese. The painter could not escape the aftermath of this altercation and suffered from a terrible purulent eczema on his leg, as well as syphilis, drowning his torments in alcohol. The letter is a perfect example of Gauguin's correspondence from the summer of 1896 which "smells of the fever that has seized a mind overheated by pain and lack of sleep" (David Haziot). In his confusion, the painter misspelt the address of Monfreid's studio at the Cité Fleurie, a famous chalet-like artists' residence where Gauguin had stayed : “I sent you a bunch of paintings last month. I'm afraid for them because it seems to me that I put 55 Bd Arago instead of 65” This mailing included his composition Eihaha Ohipa, painted in his studio in Punaauia and now kept at the Pushkin Museum in Moscow. Shipped via a naval officer - fees to be paid by Monfreid - the paintings did not arrive until November. Beyond his feverish fears, Gauguin delivers in these lines a true manifesto of his integrity as an artist - the perfect counterpart to his famous Christlike self-portrait Near Golgotha, painted around the same period. To him, his destiny and generosity are nothing short of Christ-like: “in the most difficult moments of my life, I more than shared with unfortunate people and never had any reward other than complete abandonment”. He had in fact helped display Schuffenecker's paintings in Impressionist exhibitions, saved his friend Laval from suicide and opened his purse to so many others. Instead of returning the favor, Schuffenecker prefers to feel sorry for himself: “Schuff really wrote me a crazy and unfair letter and I don't know what to answer because he is a sick mind [...] he would be more unhappy than me who has glory, strength and health. Let's talk about it! I'm good at making others jealous, he says”. Gauguin, who had always refused to make concessions and compromise, is finally betrayed by one of his closest relations, Schuffenecker, who becomes in the letter a true Judas Iscariot: “Schuff has just made a useless petition, I believe, for the State to come to my aid. This is the thing that can offend me the most. I'm asking friends to help me out for the time it takes to get back the money I'm owed, and their efforts to recover it, but begging the State was never my intention”. The painter reaches a point of no return, not only bruised in his flesh, but also in his self-esteem: “All my efforts to fight outside the official arena, the dignity I have strived for all my life, are now losing their character. From this day I am nothing but a braying schemer, but if I had submitted - yes I would be comfortable. Really, this is a sorrow that I didn't intend to have. Definitely, I was born under a bad star.” After this final abandonment, Gauguin gave free rein to his artistic and sensual frenzy in his Maison du Jouir in the Marquesas.
Suffering and penniless, Gauguin proclaims his distress and shattered pride - a Nabi Christ abandoning his cross, ready to fall into lust and the intoxication of the paintbrush.
Autograph letter dated and signed by Edgar Degas, addressed to the dealer Charles Deschamps, director of Durand-Ruel’s London branch. Three pages in ink on a bifolium.
Minor marginal tears not affecting the text, folds from mailing.
Recently returned from New Orleans, Degas writes to his London dealer to announce the imminent arrival of a delicate composition of dancers, Le Foyer de la danse à l’Opéra de la rue Le Peletier, now held at the Musée d’Orsay: "In the meantime you will receive the little picture you saw in progress and which you had the idea of selling to Mr. Huth - May you succeed! [...] As for the price, it seems to me that £150 to £200 is fair" Deschamps fulfilled the painter’s wishes and sold the painting to Louis Huth, financier and patron of Whistler, for £140. The canvas would later enter the distinguished collection of Isaac de Camondo.
Degas turned towards London at a time when the English art market offered relief from the collapse that followed the Franco-Prussian War of 1870. He placed great hopes in this expanding British market, fuelled by lucrative blockbuster exhibitions drawing millions of visitors; Degas’s canvases were shown in eight exhibitions of the Société des Artistes Français. Although he often mentions financial difficulties in his correspondence "At the end of the month I have quite a lot to pay. If some money came in, I would be delighted [...] - Take care of me, my dear Deschamps, I would be most obliged - Tell me also if the season is not too far advanced. I fear it is" his career across the Channel was flourishing and his sales profitable. The painter does not fail to salute the "French colony" of expatriate artists, Giuseppe de Nittis and his close friend James Tissot, whose financial success provided Degas with an example of how effectively a French painter’s work could be marketed in England. Unlike Tissot, however, Degas refused to adapt to market taste, focusing instead on defending the Impressionist cause in France and abroad.
He also devotes a passage to a voracious collector of his works, the baritone Jean-Baptiste Faure, patron of his celebrated series of canvases on the Paris Opéra and owner of Manet’s Déjeuner sur l’herbe: "I ought to have been in London some time ago, according to what I said. I am not there because the picture for [Jean-Baptiste] Faure is not finished, and I would not like to meet him there without being able to give him better news, and I hardly have time to dawdle if I want not to arrive on the 1st of September with nothing to deliver to him". Ironically, Faure would later reproach Degas for leaving his canvases unfinished (!) and even sue him a few years afterwards.
A rare and exceptional letter tracing the history of one of Degas’s celebrated works and his dealings with dealers and collectors, on the eve of the first Impressionist exhibition to be held the following year.
Autograph letter dated and signed by Antoni Tàpies addressed to his close friend, art critic Georges Raillard, the greatest French specialist of his work (16 lines in blue ballpoint pen from Barcelona).
Fold marks inherent to the letter's mailing, envelope included.
Having directed the French Institute of Barcelona from 1964 to 1969, Georges Raillard befriended and collaborated with numerous Spanish and Catalan artists including Joan Miro and Antoni Tapies, whose biographies he would also write.
The Catalan artist regrets not being able to participate in the farewell dinner organized by his friends Georges and Alice Raillard but does not despair of seeing them again soon in order to maintain their friendship: "En réalité c'est pour vous dire un simple au revoir car nous espérons que bientôt nous aurons le plaisir de vous voir de nouveau à Paris où nous désirons vivement pouvoir continuer notre amitié..." ["In reality it is to say a simple goodbye as we hope that soon we will have the pleasure of seeing you again in Paris where we keenly wish to be able to continue our friendship..."]
Autograph letter dated and signed by Antoni Tàpies addressed to his close friend the art critic Georges Raillard, the greatest French specialist of his work (19 lines in blue ballpoint pen from Barcelona).
Fold marks inherent to the letter's envelope placement, envelope included.
Having directed the French Institute of Barcelona from 1964 to 1969, Georges Raillard formed friendships and collaborated with numerous Spanish and Catalan artists including Joan Miro and Antoni Tapies, whose biographies he would also write.
The Catalan artist relays the notion of "art impliqué" recently employed in Catalonia: "... je viens de voir une citation... dans laquelle on dit "art impliqué" - que nous avions pensé que était intraduisible, ou que n'avait pas de sens en français - " ["... I just saw a quote... in which they say 'art impliqué' - which we had thought was untranslatable, or had no meaning in French - "] and used previously: "... une expression qu'avait été employé par Etienne Souriau en France et que le jeune esteticien catalan Robert de Ventos s'aurait approprié..." ["... an expression that had been used by Etienne Souriau in France and that the young Catalan aesthetician Robert de Ventos would have appropriated..."]
Antoni Tapies would like to use this "new notion" that is ultimately old in order to make some modifications to their previous joint works: " ? Nous permettrait ça de remettre le titre au chapitre : "Academia del social i l'implicat (mot entouré) qu'on avait laissé par "art fonctionnel" ? Je ne suis pas sûr et je te laisse à toi de décider." ["? Would that allow us to restore the title to the chapter: 'Academia del social i l'implicat' (word circled) that we had left as 'functional art'? I'm not sure and I leave it to you to decide."]
Finally, he congratulates his friend Georges Raillard for his latest preface: "Merci encore une fois pour le préface que tu as fait, que j'ai aimé beaucoup ! " ["Thank you once again for the preface you wrote, which I loved very much!"]
Manuscript list by André Malraux (20 lines in blue ballpoint pen) providing details and instructions for André Parinaud concerning the publication of his works forming the "Ecrits sur l'art" collection illustrated with photographs by Roger Parry.
Fold marks inherent to postal mailing.
Resistance member and contributor to Combat, André Parinaud was a journalist, columnist, art critic and writer. From 1959 to 1967, he held the position of editor-in-chief of the important weekly Arts bringing together the elite of French creation in all artistic fields : literature, painting, theater, cinema... He would then conduct more than 1000 radio interviews with the greatest writers and artists including Salvador Dali, Louis-Ferdinand Céline, Colette, Paul Léautaud, André Breton, Georges Simenon and André Malraux... While continuing to work at O.R.T.F. and on radio, he founded several festivals or artistic events such as Le Festival international du film d'art, l'Académie nationale des arts de la rue.
