Part 2 - École des Beaux-Arts

"It is about the fifteenth of October, after the long summer vacation, that the doors of the great École des Beaux-Arts are thrown open."
 
"The first week, called "la semaine des nouveaux," is devoted to the initiation and hazing of the new students, who come mostly from foreign countries and the French provinces. These festivities can never be forgotten—by the nouveaux." - La semaine des nouveaux – newbies week.
 
These initiation festivities varied but they certainly left a mark on the new students at the École as one example below testifies. Another example mentioned in the book is, 'the paint brush duel' as illustrated by Edouard in Picture 3 above.

"Early on the fifteenth of October, with his head erect and hope filling his soul, Bishop started for the Beaux-Arts, which was in the Rue Bonaparte, quite near to where both he and Edouard lived."
 
The École des Beaux-Arts was in close proximity to where both Edouard and Bishop lived. In fact, it was 800 metres and an 11 minute walk for me to make the same journey that they would have made.
 
"The gates of the École des Beaux-Arts aren’t that different to those today and are guarded by two prominent busts as they were back in 1898. The bust to the left as pictured above is Pierre Paul Puget (16th October 1620 or 31st October 1622 to 2nd  December 1694) and was a French Baroque painter, sculptor, architect and engineer. The bust to the right as pictured above is Nicolas Poussin (?? June 1594 – 19th November 1665) and was a leading painter of the classical French Baroque style. Until the 20th century he remained a major inspiration for such classically-oriented artists as Jaques-Louis-David, Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres and Paul Cezanne."
 
Bishop was a student of the artist Gérôme a successful academic artist and one of Emperor Napoleon's favoured painters, he taught at the École des Beaux-Arts for over forty years
 
"It is only in this government school of the four arts that the typical Bohemian students of Paris may be found, including the genuine type of French student, with his long hair, his whiskers, his Latin Quarter "plug" hat, his cape, blouse, wide corduroy trousers, sash, expansive necktie, and immense cane. The Ecole preserves this type more effectually than the other schools."
 
"After the money had been collected from all the nouveaux the entire atelier of over sixty students, dressed in working blouses and old coats, formed in line, and with deafening shouts of "A boire! à boire!" placed the nouveaux in front to carry the class banner, and thus marched out into the Rue Bonaparte to the Café des Deux Magots, singing songs fit only for the studio. Their singing, shouting, and ridiculous capers drew a great crowd. At the café they created consternation with their shouting and howling until the arrival of great bowls of "grog Américain," cigarettes, and gâteaux. Rousing cheers were given to a marriage-party across the Place St.-Germain. After yelling themselves hoarse and nearly wrecking the café, the students marched back in a disorderly mob to the Ecole." - A boire – to drink!
 
Then the real trouble began.
 
"The guardian having conveniently disappeared, the students closed and barricaded the door. "A poil! à poil!" they yelled, dancing frantically about the frightened nouveaux; "à poil les sales nouveaux! à poil!" They seized a student and stripped him, despite his desperate resistance; then they tied his hands behind him and with paint and brushes decorated his body in the most fantastic designs that they could conceive. His oaths were frightful. He cursed them and swore to have the blood of all Frenchmen. He called them all types of names and the students enjoyed it immensely. "En broche!" they yelled, after they had made him a spectacle with the brushes; "en broche! Il faut le mettre en broche!" This was quickly done. They forced the student to his haunches, bound his wrists in front of his upraised knees, thrust a long pole between his elbows and knees, and thus bore him round the atelier at the head of a singing procession. Four times they went round; then they placed the helpless student on the model-stand for future reference. The bad French that the victim occasionally mixed with his tirade indicated the fearful damnation that he was doubtless dealing out in his own language." - A poil les sales nouveaux ! – get naked, you dirty newbies! - En broche Il faut le mettre en broche! - On a spit! He needs to be put on a spit!

"A circle was then formed about him, and a solemn silence fell upon the crowd. A Frenchman named Joncierge, head of the reception committee, stepped forth, and in slow and impressive speech announced that it was one of the requirements of the Atelier Gérôme to brand all nouveaux over the heart with the name of the atelier, and that the branding of the student would now proceed. Upon hearing this, he emitted a fearful howl. But he was turned to face the red-hot studio stove and watch the branding-iron slowly redden in the coals. During this interval the students sang the national song, and followed it with a funeral march. Behind the student’s back a second poker was being painted to resemble a red-hot one."
 
"The hot poker was taken from the fire, and its usefulness tested by burning a string with it. The student grew deathly pale. An intense silence sat upon the atelier as the iron was brought near the helpless young man. In a moment, with wonderful cleverness, the painted poker was substituted for the hot one and placed quickly against his breast. When the cold iron touched him he roared like a maddened bull, and rolled quivering and moaning upon the floor. The students were frantic with delight."
 
"It was some time before this student could realise that he was not burned to a crisp. He was then taken across the atelier and hoisted to a narrow shelf fifteen feet from the floor, where he was left to compose himself and enjoy the tortures of the other nouveaux. He dared not move, however, lest he fall; and because he refused to take anything in good- nature, but glared hatred and vengeance down at them, they pelted him at intervals with water-soaked sponges."
 
At the end of a year the nouveau drops his hated title and becomes a proud ancient, to bully to his heart's content, as those before him.
 
I’m sure that was a great relief to them all.
 
"The models—what stories there are! Every Monday morning from ten to twenty present themselves, male and female, for inspection in puris naturalibus before the critical gaze of the students of the different ateliers. One after another they mount the throne and assume such academic poses of their own choosing as they imagine will display their points to the best advantage. The students then vote upon them, for and against, by raising the hand. The massier, standing beside the model, announces the result, and, if the vote is favourable, enrols the model for a certain week to come."
 
"There is intense rivalry among the models. Strange to say, most of the male models in the schools of Paris are from Italy, the southern part especially. As a rule, they have very good figures. They begin posing at the age of five or six, and follow the business until old age retires them. Crowds of them are at the gates of the Beaux-Arts early on Monday mornings. In the voting, a child may be preferred to his seniors, and yet the rate of payment is the same,—thirty francs a week."
 
"Perhaps the most famous of the models of Paris was Sarah Brown, whose wild and exciting life has been the talk of the world. Her beautiful figure and glorious golden hair opened to her the whole field of modeldom. Offers for her services as model were more numerous than she could accept, and the prices that she received were very high. She was the mistress of one great painter after another, and she lived and reigned like a queen. Impulsive, headstrong, passionate, she would do the most reckless things. She would desert an artist in the middle of his masterpiece and come down to the studio to pose for the students at thirty francs a week. Gorgeously apparelled, she would glide into a studio, overturn all the easels that she could reach, and then shriek with laughter over the havoc and consternation that she had created. The students would greet her with shouts and form a circle about her, while she would banteringly call them her friends. Then she would jump upon the throne, dispossess the model there, and give a dance or make a speech, knocking off every hat that her parasol could reach. But no one could resist Sarah."
 
Fortunately, or unfortunately, I was not subjected to any of the above antics during my visit to the École des Beaux-Arts. My visit was a much more sedate affair. That said, how joyous it must have been to have been a part of the whole initiation process even if it left one embarrassed for a time. Their journey as artists had truly begun and in spectacular fashion.
 
So, it seems that life was never dull for both our artist friends at the École des Beaux-Arts and so we shall leave them to their fun and studies and catch up with them on the Boulevard Saint Michel where we shall join them in the cafes of their choice. 

All text taken from, Bohemian Paris of Today (Chapter 2 - Ecole des Beaux-Arts) by Cucuel and Morrow and Illustrated by Edouard Cucuel - 1899. All photos - Craig R. Whitfield (2026)