Monday, 22 March 1880

I made the acquaintance the other evening at the Mouzays' of M. Horace de Caillas and his friend Beaumetz. They had invited me to come see their studios; I could not go because of the painting. So I wrote a note yesterday asking them to come see me. Now, but first let us record the visit of Papa Gavini, very pleased with the painting. So around three o'clock a gentleman enters -- I do not know which, Caillas or Beaumetz? I had to converse, and I did not know to whom I was speaking. But when Tony arrived it was worse; Caillas-Beaumetz seemed to want to make his acquaintance, and I did not know how to introduce them. Finally he leaves; I confide my confusion to Tony, and we think perhaps it was a third person or a thief.
Tony is astonished that I could have done what I have done in so little time.
For after all, it is the first time you have applied your studies.
Yes indeed.
Well, it is not bad at all, you know.
He takes off his overcoat, seizes a palette, and paints a hand for me -- the lower one -- in that whitish tone peculiar to him. You understand, it is not to have a painting done for me but to show me how I must do it (I have never painted more than one hand), since I repaint whatever he touches.
He touched the hair and I entirely redid it, just as with the hand. There is only the muslin sleeve that I leave by him, because that is pure skill and I have no scruples about it.
So he works on the hand for me, and I enjoy myself, and we chat. Around five o'clock the Tchoumakoffs and the Poitrineaus arrive.
All the same, except for the background, the hair, and the plush, it is dirty painting. It is shriveled work. I can do better. That is Tony's opinion, but nevertheless he is pleased and says that if there were any chance of being refused at the Salon, he would be the first to tell me not to send it. He says he is astonished to see what I have done.
It is well conceived, well arranged, well established. It is harmonious, elegant, graceful!
Oh! Yes, but I am displeased with the flesh tones!
And to think they will say it is my manner!! It is shriveled work!
I am obliged to resort to glazes! I who adore frank, simple painting, done at one go. I assure you it costs me to exhibit something that displeases me so much in execution, something so different from what I am accustomed to do... it is true I have never done anything that pleased me... but in the end, it is dirty, it is patched up.
Tony says that Breslau has this time come under the influence of Bastien-Lepage.
It is thanks to me; I extolled Bastien-Lepage to her. She is under my influence as I am under hers. Tony is as kind as possible. And to think I could have done better. Cursed modesty! Damned lack of confidence! If I had not been trembling and asking myself to be or not to be, I would have begun in advance...
Halt there! Let us not commit the folly of deploring a fait accompli.
I do not know why I think of Italy this evening. These are burning thoughts that I always try to avoid. I have stopped my Roman reading because it excited me too much, and I fall back on the French Revolution or Greece. But Rome, but Italy -- when I think of that sun, that air, of everything, I go mad.
Even Naples... O Naples in the evening... and what is curious is that there is no man in the affair. When I think I could go there, I go mad. It is so true that the stage sets of La Muette cause me a sort of emotion.

Notes

In English in the original.