Friday, 24 December 1880

Having had bad dreams, I go to the studio, where Julian makes me the following offer: "Promise me the painting will be mine and I shall give you a subject that will bring you celebrity, or at least notoriety, two days after the Salon opens." Naturally I promise. He says the same to Amelie, and having had us write and sign the commitment with Magnan and Madeleine as witnesses, half laughing, half serious, he takes us to his office and offers me the task of painting a corner of our studio with three figures in the foreground, life-size, and others as accessories — and to Amelie, the entire studio of rue Vivienne, number 53, in small scale. Amelie bursts into tears immediately, and Julian increases the despair by emphasizing my strength in drawing, which allows me to do life-size figures, and by thrusting her insufficiency under her nose. He leaves, demonstrating the advantages of the subject for a good half hour, after which I return to my portrait, agitated, with a headache, and cannot do anything for the rest of the day. The aftermath of yesterday.
As for the subject, it does not appeal to me much, but it could be amusing, and then Julian is so gripped, so convinced, and cited so many examples that succeeded — and by men — whereas never has a women's studio been painted. Besides, since it would be an advertisement for him, he would do everything in the world to give me this famous notoriety he speaks of. It is annoying with Amelie; she will make a quiet little opposition that will difficulty the painting for me — it is already not easy, a big thing like that... well, we shall see.
At half past three we go down with Villevieille with the intention of seeing the fairground booths on the boulevards, but having had the idea of casting a glance at the boss's new studio, we go in. Villevieille, who plays like an artist, sits at the piano, and I set about writing doggerel verses for the boss. He comes in at that moment, and we spend two hours there, joined by my aunt who came to fetch me.
The studio is very nice, right next to the men's, on the mezzanine floor; a speaking tube communicates with the third floor of the ladies.
It was rather amusing; we talked a great deal about the painting. Julian wants it for several reasons: first, because he does not have time to do it himself; then, to please me! then, to infuriate Breslau and prove my strength to those who do not wish to believe in me. All that is well, but now I suspect he is offering me this thing so that I get bogged down in it and do nothing. It is stipulated that the painting belongs to him at whatever stage of execution I leave it. I graciously share my suspicions with him. He answers that I do not believe a word of what I say. Well, you understand — the studio is small, we are only twelve, but that is enough to hinder me with my large canvas; for in the end, one cannot ask the students to remain motionless and pose for two months for me. I do not understand how I shall do it; I would very much like to do something else, but what!