Pigeon Tower at Bellevue FWN 270 1889 60cm x 84 Cleveland USA
The battle had been raging for well over two years: how best to commemorate the centenary year of the French Revolution, 1889. As with many wars, it is the heat of the battle that crystalizes the central issue – The Eiffel Tower!
The Traditional camp: it was fear of its permanence, the prospect of the Eiffel's iron monstrosity dwarfing all the great Parisian monuments for years to come. A Committee of Three Hundred was formed – one member for each metre of the tower – consisting of some of the most illustrious names in French art and letters: artists Ernest Meissonier, Jean-Leon Gérôme, Adolphe Bouguereau, Antonin Mercié; writers Guy de Maupassant, Romain Rolland; musicians Jules Massenet, Charles Gounod; and, most telling of all, Charles Garnier, architect of the Opera House. The list of signatories to the protest was practically a roll call of all the outstanding proponents of tradition in literature, art, music and architecture: “Honoured compatriot, we come, writers, painters, sculptors, architects, passionate lovers of the beauty of Paris -- a beauty until now unspoiled -- to protest with all our might, with all our outrage, in the name of slighted French taste, in the name of threatened French art and history, against the erection, in the heart of our capital, of the useless and monstrous Eiffel Tower. Is Paris now to be associated with the grotesque and mercantile imagination of a machine builder, to be defaced and disgraced? Even the commercial Americans would not want this Eiffel Tower which is, without any doubt, a dishonour to Paris.” (Arthur Chandler: revolution).
Stone is so symbolic: of a society that is stable and permanent; that is well-ordered, built on strong foundations, carved with dedication and love of duty by craftsmen, who hand their craft down from generation to generation, where everything and everybody has its proper place. Within that space, it is a place of warm belonging and safe space. It was not so much the fear of the permanence of the Tower, but its underlying insinuation – that an old order, a traditional value-system may be passing into history.
The Modern camp: Monsieur Eiffel, the chief engineer, was used to criticism, but never so vehement, and never from such a league of illustrious names. He replied in measured tones that engineers, too, have their standards of beauty no less worthy than those of the fine arts. His tactics were not to engage in a war of words, but to get the job done! The French Government would not have to finance the Tower. He made an agreement with the Government that he would finance the Tower provided he could reap the rewards, or bear the losses, of its use for fifty years. To this end he set up a limited company, so that in the event of losses, he would not be personally liable. He invited all the democratically elected local Town Hall Mayors through-out the whole of France to a Grand Opening Dinner. The final coup d’etat was to invite all the countries of the world which were Republics – Great Britain did not attend, the United States of America most certainly did! Monsieur Eiffel was an entrepreneur; and became a very rich man.
Iron and steel are so symbolic of a society that is efficient and pragmatic, not hung up on elaborate ideals of truth and beauty, nor merely concerned with the finer things of life; but inviting as many people to participate in the festivities as possible. The Tower must be the highest building in the world, not dominating all around, but merely showing that it can be done! Cathedrals and Grand Palaces have taken decades to construct; the Eiffel Tower, a mere two years.
There was also something of a ‘special relationship’ developed between the French and the Americans, sealed by a few initiatives at the Eiffel Tower. Edison's inventions provided every evening with a dazzling illumination of the tower. A series of powerful incandescent lights played over the surface of the tower and through the waters of the fountains at the tower's base. At the foot of the Eiffel Tower was another exhibit made possible by American inventiveness: the Telephone Pavilion. This structure served as the telephone communications center of the ‘exposition universale’, and the exhibits proudly showed the progressive extension of telephone lines from Paris to the outlying provinces. (Arthur Chandler: revolution).
But the ‘piece de resistance’ was: The Otis lift. The engineer of the American firm of Otis subjected the Otis lift to a final test before handing it over for public use. The lift was fastened with ordinary ropes, and this done it was detached from the cables of steel wire with which it is worked. What was to be done was to allow the lift to fall, so as to ascertain whether, if the steel cables were to give way, the brakes would work properly and support the lift. Two carpenters, craftsmen of the old order, armed with great hatchets ascended to the lift; at a given signal, a blow cut the rope and the enormous machine began to fall. Everyone was startled, but in its downward course the lift began to move more slowly, it swayed for a moment from left to right, stuck on the brake, and stopped. There was a general cheering. Not a pane of glass in the lift had been broken or cracked, and the car stopped without shock at a height of ten meters above the ground. (Arthur Chandler: revolution).
Meanwhile
The Impressionists were quiet
Renoir had gone down to Provence, renting Cezanne’s sister’s house at Montbriand. The World Fair in Paris was another world away. They were not moved to engage in that battle; instead, they set their spirit in the open air, walking to Bellevue, and Mont Saint Victoire, and set up their easels side by side: gazing on a different kind of Tower, for pigeons. Here, in Cezanne’s painting, we notice the complementary colours, the different view-points taken that elongate the upper slope of the roof in comparison to the lower slope; the diagonals of the blue brushstrokes of the sky pointing in the opposite direction to the upper part of the tower; the dynamic tensions of the axial tipping of the tower itself, within the geometric crisscross of horizontal and vertical planes; the coolness of the emerald green, the warmth of the orangey-red, the contrast of the Naples yellow of the tower, and the blue of the sky…
It is not stone nor steel that is the symbol of this new value-system, but a tapestry of complimentary colours, each contributing to the harmony of the whole, integrating diverse viewpoints and dynamic tensions; yet, held together within a deep sense of belonging, and sufficient efficiency: a new poise – a recognition of the wonder of the ordinary. This new, post-modern value system would focus on the abundant diversity of human cultures.
And, in our days, this value-system would include not just
the beauty of diversity, but the pain as well
- in an attempt to hold the human suffering
that has been unseen in previous value-systems:
suffering, in the collective,
with a new dedication to those people and groups
who have been previously marginalized or discounted by society,
and suffering, in the individual,
with a heightened awareness of psychic pain, trauma, and mental health.
Jeff Salzman (adapted)
To acknowledge and hold human suffering in each and every manifestation: this is the Great Work of the Post-Modern Value-System, in which we now live…
Renoir 1889
1976 photo John Rewald