At
last, an engraver, after all these colorists! An artist
needed a considerable nerve, self-confidence and had to
feel a strong attachment towards Tahiti in order to dare
to try to render by the sole virtuosity of an engraving
tool on a brass plate what many others tried to do
before him using a palette containing all the colors of
the rainbow, mixed and combined in every conceivable
manner. Jacques Boullaire had this nerve as well as a
love for and mastery of such a difficult profession.
He
had been a sergeant in the Air Force during the First
World War and once he had put his decorations away in
the bottom of a drawer, he had let himself be drawn into
the advertising department of a large French car
company. He soon tired of catalogues and posters, and
went into original engraving: woodcarving, lithography,
graving tool and etching needle work. He had
well-established contacts with the "Crapouillot".
He seemed to be cut out for illustration work. He
started in 1928 by illustrating "Frederic and
Bergerette", a charming tale by Alfred de Musset.
In the following years, he worked on two very fine books
: "Cesar Birotteau" and "Mrs Bovary"
which came out at Mornay's. This was the beginning of
his career!
He
was drawn to the Pacific Islands as a result of his
marriage to Anne Hervé, a Breton, the daughter of a
French resident in the Tuamotu Islands, raised in the
rough and austere solitude of a Polynesian atoll where
she, too, delighted in drawing and painting.
Jacques
Boullaire then traveled in the Pacific Ocean and around
Polynesia; he was both curious and marveled by the
sights, his approaches were methodical. His profession
as an illustrator had already put him in a position as
an observer of different particular or characteristic
things. With a meticulous and endless passion, he took
down rapid graphic notes, sketches or more detailed
drawings. In a matter of a few seconds, using his pencil
in a confident manner and raising his glasses above his
forehead so as to see an entire scene much better, he
would grasp an air or an appearance, a facial expression
or a movement, or even a typically Tahitian way of being
: furtive movements or more stable postures. There is a
Tahitian Way of saying "goodbye" or
"yes", to call or to fear.
The
"vahine" were soon no longer a secret to him. Their gait
and posture, their corporal attitudes, the hair they are
so proud of : he has observed all this including their
arms tucked behind their backs as if "broken",
their robust body and their feet "gripping"
the ground thus giving them a stable position which is
heavily accentuated by the solidness of their lower
limbs. He especially details their faces, with crowns of
flowers or shadowed by blue-black manes and spectacular
headdresses, whose mysteries he is perpetually trying to
discover. He also studies candid faces which have
already taken on an expression of worried seriousness
and false melancholy; the faces of young girls, cheerful
dancing companions and expert revelers whose eyes are
sometimes blank or filled with a strange sort of
emptiness, more balanced and mature faces of married
"matrons", rather plump due to several
pregnancies; old women's faces which are long and thin
with deep wrinkles engraved by the hand of time.
Nothing
escapes his investigations and quests. He has depicted
in every type of light the large mounds of the Windward
Islands of the Society Group and the horizon on the sea
of the low lying islands, including all types of
landscapes. His sketch-books sometimes turn into
herbariums ,flowers, fruit or foliage, where he notes
down with great precision similar to that of a botanist,
his observations, occasionally matching on the same
page, the massive and outlined leaf of a bread fruit
tree and a sketch a large tree-bracken. Any centipede
going past would also appear in a documentary small
sketch.
At
the end of his first stay, he exhibited a few drawings.
He also carved two or three things on wood. I have heard
him say that the woodcarving entitled "Eia taoe
manao" which is in the catalogue of his works had
been carved on miro, a local type of rosewood and was
drawn by the printer juventin.
Under
fairly similar conditions, Boullaire spent three years
in the Pacific Ocean, after the war. "I have not
been disappointed. Papeete has hardly changed. In spite
of what people may say, the small town has remained one
of the most charming places in the world. Tahiti's
flora, its hills, its red earth and its lagoons have
nothing to equal them. Tiares, hibiscuses, frangipani
and flowered buraos smile to those who return and are
not the least bit surprised by their faithfulness.
Nightmarish Europe is far from our mind.
He
modestly added: "I get the impression that I did
not seen many of the amazing things in this strange land
known as Polynesia in 1937 - or that several things
escaped my notice when first stayed there. In order to
understand these impressions, you have to see, smell and
breathe in deeply and many times the essence of nature
there."
Once
he had gathered this gigantic oceanic harvest and had
carefully put it away in a certain order, in stacks of
portfolios put away in his studio, Avenue Foch,
Boullaire published prints and books to Tahiti's glory.
When
this work was being carried out, Boullaire
"re-lived" his Oceania, when in front of these
drawings and sketches. He once admitted to me "When
I see these cursory notes, I can visualize the
landscapes and the places. I remember what the weather
was like and what type of light there was. The noises of
the surroundings, the scents and the wind come back to
mind. My drawings enable me to rebuild my frame of
mind and to bring to the fore my impressions as an
artist. It is like magic, I feel as if I am there. Nature and the people are
present. And I work as if by
nature".
This
confession helps us to understand why these prints seem
so evocative. They combine two usually incompatible
qualities, what is finished and what has been taken.
They bring us both the spontaneous gushing of what has
been lived and the long meditated trait of what has been
chosen. They contain both the serenity and the rigor
of compositions realized in studios and the freshness,
the direct and spontaneous aspect of sketches.
Should
we wish to mention some more characteristic works of
Boullaire's among the hundred Polynesian gravings he
did, we could point out "Tapati poipoi", 1938,
a graving tool and chisel and wheel representation of a
little girl leaving the Protestant church on a Sunday ;
"Haere ori haere", 1946, an amusing lithograph
of a drive in a Moorea; "Pahi Nuku-Hiva",
1957, a lively and vigorous graving tool work showing
the preparations for the departure of a schooner going
to the Marquesas, around the quay in Papeete.
As
far as books are concerned, Boullaire published, during
the war and with restricted means, "Victor Segalen
and Oceania" and "Loti's Wedding" which
surpasses by far all other editions belonging to
book-lovers of these classics, in Tahiti. But his
masterpiece remains the etching tool work he did for
"My Island, Maupiti" which is an extract from
Andr6 Ropiteau's Books, who was a young vine-grower from
Burgundy and of good stock, totally devoted to his
island, until he met his death, fighting for it and for
French freedom, somewhere near Verdun. Having agreed to
illustrate this text for book-loving yachtsmen,
Boullaire, with his wonderful insight into art, and at a
time when access to Maupiti was not at all easy,
insisted on making the journey. He spent a few days on
this island, of only two hundred and thirty-one
inhabitants, to pervade himself of its magic and find
out how its prominent people lived. He wanted his
account to be true to reality. The quintessence of his
talent went into the making of his pictures and these
pages would remain amongst the best ever inspired by
Oceania.
One
of the advantages of engraving over painting is that you
can afford, without going mad, to hang an original
Boullaire in your house for less than the cost of a
Gauguin reproduction. Long lives engraving!
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