All language subtitles for [English] Delacroix_ From Paris to Morocco [DownSub.com] (1)

[narrator] From the 17th,
to the 29th of February, 1864,

Parisians all crowded
into the draw sales rooms,

to see the contents,
of the painter,

Eugene Delacroix's studio,
being auctioned off.

He was already one of the most
famous artists

of the 19th century, and was
considered the leading light,

of the romantic movement.
On his deathbed,

once he'd left all his worldly
goods to loved ones,

Delacroix expressed the desire
that the whole of his studio,

be put up for public auction,
when he'd gone.

[gavel sounding]
[speaking French]

Head auctioneers, Pierre and
Linei, presented to the crowds

all the works selected,
and duly expertise,

by monsieur Petit and Tedesco.

For 12 whole days, the Delacroix
canvases, water colors,

sketches, drawings, and objects,
were all sold off

to the highest bidders.

Collectors, dealers, friends,
admirers, and mere onlookers,

all flocked to the auction,
to see them.

And the takings were
most impressive, 379, 000

francs were raised.
The equivalent today,

of five or six million euros.

Among the works on sale,
were the sketchbooks

from the journey to Morocco,
that the painter made in 1832,

when he was 34 years old.

These seven books full
of sketches, drawings,

water colors, and on the spot
notes, were just a fraction

of the many real life images,
that Delacroix would capture,

more than a thousand of them
in total.

And they served right up until
his death in 1863, as a source

for 80 grand canvases,
that were surely among his most

emblematic works.

Eugene Delacroix's voyage
to Morocco, was to be

the foundation of a whole new
school of painting, Orientalism.

Eugene Delacroix was only
24 years old, in 1822,

when his work was hung
for the first time,

at the salon de Louvre.

It caused a sensation,
with its head on attack

on "official" paintings.
The painting and sculpture salon

at the Louvre was an artistic
event that had been going

on since the early 18th century.
It was a key event

for any painter, because of all
the commissions it brought.

Only work approved
by the Academy of Fine Arts,

could be exhibited.

At the 1822, Salon du Louvre,
Neo classicism, as practiced

by painters like,
Jacque Louis David,

or Antoine Gros,
was all the rage.

Subjects taken from Greek,
or Roman mythology,

accounted for the majority
of the themes on display.

They were the reference point,
for all that was beautiful,

and all relied heavily
on drawing skills, with color

merely serving to enhance
the line.

Delacroix was showing just one
large work, the Barque of Dante.

It marked his official debut
as a painter.

Delacroix was terrified,
when he went to the salon,

at the Louvre, to see his work.
It wasn't there,

"My painting's not here,
I haven't been selected".

He felt a hand on his shoulder,
"So Delacroix, happy?"

"Happy, why?
My painting's not here".

"What do you mean,
of course it is,

these gentlemen just moved

it yesterday to a prime location
in the main room,

cause for celebration."

[narrator] Taken from the Divine
Comedy of Dante Alighieri,

the Italian writer and poet,
of the middle ages,

the painting depicts Dante's
visit to hell, accompanied

by Virgil. We see them crossing
the underworld's river Styx.

With the Barque of Dante,
he's admired, largely admired.

And it's a breakthrough
painting, it's his first

painting in the salon.

In some ways, he's still very
much influenced by classicism,

but you can already see all
that romantic turmoil beginning

to emerge.
The paintings were bought

by the state, and exhibited
at the Luxembourg museum,

where they showed
the living artists.

So, it was quite a coup
for a beginner.

[narrator] Champions
of the Romantic movement

may well have been claiming
the work as a masterpiece,

but the critics were upset
by its chosen theme,

its innovative technique,
and its lack of a more

traditional, historical theme.

In the Barque of Dante,
we see Delacroix already

foregrounding color over line,

movement over stiffness,

and emotion over technique.

In his following paintings,
the observation of contemporary

life, would quickly become
a lasting source of inspiration,

to him.

Those first decades of the 19th
century, were a period of great

change in the arts.
A new generation of painters,

dealt in strong emotions,
rooted in reality,

and no longer
in antique mythology.

For example, Anne-Louis
Girodet's, The Revolt in Cairo,

chose an incident
from Napoleon Bonaparte's 1798

Egyptian campaign, and Delacroix
was to find it hung right beside

-his Dante.
-Delacroix goes to Luxembourg

museum, where they show
the living artists,

sees the revolt in Cairo,
and calls it in his journal,

a great style.

He was also thrilled
by The Raft of the Medusa,

by his friend,
Théodore Géricault.

Which was inspired by a tragic
event that occurred in 1816.

The two artists had first met
as students, in the studio

of the painter, Narcisse Guérin.
Delacroix would own several

paintings and a few sketches,
by Géricault.

Including a portrait
of a cavalry man,

which would feature in the post
mundus auction.

Delacroix would always remain
a close friend and admirer,

of the creator
of the Raft of the Medusa.

Delacroix was inspired
by the dramatic force

of contemporary subjects,
and sought to base himself

on real life stories,
that reflected his own

day and age.
So for the work he presented

at the salon of 1824,
he chose a hot subject,

the Massacre at Chios.

But one that, has deeply
impressed him, and one that,

comes in one case,
from a current event,

a dramatic event, that had
occupied the popular imagination

in France.

[narrator] He was portraying
the Greek war of independence

against the Turks,
which began in 1821.

What he wants in this painting,
is quite simply to show that

the aesthetics of ancient Greece
were, as a visual model,

over and done with.
The Massacre at Chios,

represented a clean break,
from classical,

historical painting.
And already, in his preparatory

sketches for the canvas,
we can feel the painter's

interests in oriental elements.

He breaks apart the oppositional
group, and it's evident

in the title,
scenes from the massacres.

So, we have these different
parts, and they relate

to one another, but we don't
have a monumental grouping,

the way that one would,
in a co, or in a necessary.

The expositions of the Louvre
gallery in 1826,

and the salon of 1827,
are both largely dominated,

by those painters' fascination
for the Greek war.

The works feature the Greeks
and the Turks, of course,

just like Victor Hugo does,

three years later
in his Orientalia.

[narrator] Three years
after the Massacre at Chios,

Delacroix drew
further inspiration

from the oriental aesthetic,

in his new canvas,
the Death of Sardanapalus.

It's the very model
of an oriental fantasy, as seen

by the western eye, exhibited
at the salon du Louvre of 1827,

it is totally rejected
by the critics.

"It is the worst painting
at the salon", "the eye cannot

untangle this confusion of lines
and colors",

"this Sardanapalus
is an artistic error".

The one that shocked people
the most, was the Sardanapalus,

because it was probably
the most audacious.

The others came in from
criticism, too,

both bad and good,
but mostly bad.

It was a huge scandal.

Less so for the nudes

that Delacroix put there
in the midst of butchery,

than for his use of colors
and its general composition.

"I don't like
reasonable paintings."

A cradle that Delacroix
would follow all his life,

maintaining like the poet
Charles Baudelaire

on the subject of his own
sultry, "The Flowers of Evil",

that beauty is always strange.

[Maurice] He paints and amazing
painting that shocks everyone.

They tell him it's a massacre
of painting itself.

This Death of Sardanapalus.

He based it on a text he read
by Berlioz.

In reality though, Delacroix
was depicting something.

His own world.

A world that, under Charles X,
is in total decay.

Everything's falling
apart, burning.

The palace is on fire.

[narrator] With Sardanapalus,

Delacroix appears to sense
that the French throne

was sitting on a time bomb.

History would soon prove
him right.

On the fall of Napoleon
after Waterloo in 1815,

Louis the XVI's two brothers
restored the monarchy

under the war bonds.

First came Louis XVIII,

then in 1824, Charles X.

His government,
full of reactionary ministers,

faced growing
popular discontent.

Two refill the states'
empty coffers,

Charles X tried
to distract the attention

of an increasingly
unhappy public

with his invasion and conquest
of Algeria.

Algeria was officially under

the wing of the declining
Ottoman Empire,

but it was ruled by the
regency of Dey Hussein Bey.

With social and political
crisis looming,

many Algerians sought freedom
by becoming nomads,

while others declared war
on their government.

By 1820, the country
had imploded.

The king of France seized
his opportunity.

Under the pretext
of a diplomatic incident,

he sent a fleet of 567 ships
to bombard Algiers.

And on the 5th of July, 1830,

Sidi Ferruch fortress

had obtained Dey
Hussein Bey's surrender.

While Charles X refilled
his coffers,

the French army set about
sacking the city.

The colonization of Algeria
had begun.

Back in France,

this desperate attempt
by the last of the Bourbons

to hang on to his throne
had failed.

And only days after
the conquest of Algeria,

Delacroix was to witness a new
French revolution.

For the 27th, 28th, and 29th
of July,

the "Three Glorious Days",
as they're known,

the king was overthrown,
and his cousin,

Louis Philippe I came to power.

Those three days of insurrection
left hundreds of those dead,

and Paris bloody and burning.

Delacroix seized
on the dramatic events

to produce an image
that would seal his reputation

across centuries,
across continents.

The painting entitled,
Liberty Leading the People,

would become a symbol,
a national icon.

[Delacroix] I took on a modern
subject, a barricade.

And I may not have fought
for my country,

but at least, I painted for her.

[narrator] It causes a scandal,
of course.

For many, the reputation
of France was sullied

by the sensual model
with her bare breast.

"Vulgar, ignoble",

"A common prostitute.
A fish wife",

were just some of the critics
epithets of the 1831's salon.

According to the press,

"Monsieur Delacroix had painted
our glorious revolution in mud."

Despite the feeding frenzy
of the press,

the canvas was bought
by Louis Philippe

and exhibited
at the royal museum.

In the autumn of 1831,

Delcroix was awarded
the Legion De Nier.

The Liberty Leading the People
is once again

someone coming out towards
the public,

just like in the
Barque of Dante.

Coming out into the public,

advancing towards them,
attacking them.

It's showing something.

[narrator]
If Liberty Leading the People,

originally entitled
Scene of the Barricades,

has become a worldwide symbol
of power to the people,

Delacroix himself wouldn't
have thought of it like

that when he was painting it.

At 32, he was neither daring,
nor a revolutionary,

and had very little
political awareness.

He himself admits that he lived
the events of July 1930

as just a passer-by.

As a painter, he was dependent
on state commissions,

so he couldn't break rank.

Did this mean Delcroix
was simply an opportunist,

eager to be in the new king's
good books?

Or was it his imagination

was fired by a new kind
of patriotism?

But along with all
the controversy
\N

and the official recognition,

with the close of 1831,
came the opportunity

to take an unexpected
and life-changing trip.

And the curious proposition
came from a total stranger.

In Mid-October 1831,

Charles-Edgar,
count of Mornay,

was summoned to the
Tuileries Palace by the king,

Louis Philippe.

Mornay was a young man
of the world,

who had started out in the army

and then at the court
of Charles X.

Although he had very
little experience

of international relations,

Louis Philippe was about
to entrust him

with a delicate mission.

Louis Philippe had inherited
the situation

in Colonial Algeria.

In the summer of 1831,

Morocco was providing aid
to an Algerian border district

that had broken away
from the province of Tlemcen,

and was stationing troops there.

This was a provocation that had
notched up the attention.

So in order to calm relations
between the two countries,

Louis Philippe decided to send
a special diplomatic mission.

His aim was to meet with
Sultan Moulay Abd al-Rahman,

and to obtain an agreement
that Morocco would not interfere

in French affairs in Algeria.

The mission was given a few
other diplomatic,

and commercial matters to look
into while there.

But its budget was so meager,

that it could only take along
one translator and a courier.

It was going to be a long trip.

They were to leave from Toulon
and head for Tangier,

where they were to meet
with the town's Pasha.

Then on horseback,
make the 200 odd kilometer

trek to Meknes ,
where the sultan resided.

Mornay, a keen fan of literature
and an art collector,

dreaded all the boredom
of the trip,

and insisted on having
a traveling companion.

Someone of an artistic bent.

His request was approved on the
condition that the chosen artist

should pay his own way.

Mornay's mistress,
Mademoiselle Mars,

undertook to find an artist

for Mornay to take along
with him.

It was Mademoiselle Mars who
introduced Mornay to Delacroix

at the Paris opera
on the evening of the 21st

of November, 1831,

At the premier of Meyerbeer's
Robert Le Diable.

She was one of Paris' most
famous actresses.

Was 53, Mornay, 29.

She was a member
of the Comédie-Française.

Stylish and with expensive
taste,

he, a party animal,
wealthy and generous.

They had with them the two

friends who'd arranged
for the painter

to join the Moroccan mission.

Duponchel, a set designer,

soon to become director
of the Paris opera.

And Bertin, a journalist
and a press baron.

The young painter was spirited,

he knew the ways of the world
and had an excellent character.

Qualities not to be sniffed at.

Since he'd be spending four
or five months with Mornay.

Charles de Mornay
and Eugene Delacroix

quickly found they had much
in common.

Mornay was persuaded
that he found Delcroix

the ideal traveling companion.

Delacroix was tempted.

But he was worried about
the departure date,

which left him only a few weeks
to prepare.

[bell rings]

Morocco was still
an unknown land.

Although the world of the Orient
had long been a source

of inspiration for artists.

Throughout the 17th
and 18th centuries,

Turkish exotica were the height
of sophistication.

And ever since Turkey
first sent representatives

to the French court,
the height of fashion, too.

But as yet no artist had
actually been to the Orient,

so fantastic visions worthy
of the Thousand and One Nights

flooded both fashion
and the decorative arts,

along with both plays
and operas.

At the very end
of the 18th century,

the artists who had accompanied
Bonaparte on his Egypt campaign

had return with,
for the first time,

a more realistic view
of the Orient.

Of course, artists have been
traveling for a long time.

But before the Egyptian
campaign,

which could be seen as the start
of it all,

there was already, for example,

apart from the grand tour
they took in Italy,

there was already this enormous
fascination for Greece.

"The Grand Tour"
as it was known,

which emerged
in the 17th century,

and reached its peak in the
18th, was an educational trip.

Usually through Italy
and Greece,

on which, aristocrats
and artists alike,

would complete their studies
and see some genuine antiques.

Delacroix had always refused
to take the Grand Tour,

but was all the same keen to
find new sources of inspiration.

Morocco might be just
the ticket.

[Delacroix] My dear friend,

I'm in the midst of a rather
big project.

I shall most likely be leaving
next week for Morocco.

Don't laugh, it's the truth.

I'm in rather a diver.

Despite what people often say,

Delacroix isn't a great
traveler.

He's actually quite
a stay at home.

He didn't travel very much
before in his lifetime

before Morocco.

He just gone to England
for three months.

And even that was pretty much
forced on him by his friends.

So the opportunity comes up
to go to Morocco.

But it isn't him who organizes
the trip.

It's the way he is.

He said he doesn't like to,
as he puts it,

shake the flask.

All the same, when he does
actually make a move,

he enjoys it, because
he's a melancholic type,

and it gets him out
of his melancholy.

He keeps the melancholy
for his journal

and his close friends.

When he's out socializing, he's
actually charming and cheerful,

which is indeed what draws
Mornay to him.

He gets the go ahead
from the ministry.

"Yes, you can go.

And we'll even pay for you boat
trip both ways.

But you must pay your own
expenses on board,

and once you get there."

He accepts.

[narrator]
Delcroix was an obsessive.

They say that when he packed
his things,

he was sticking a label on each
article of clothing,

saying what degree
of temperature it was for.

He was always an elegant
man but,

he never went for the bohemian
style of the romantics

with all its
imposed originality.

As for his artist materials,

like most of his contemporaries,

he didn't have much
a traveling kit.

The revolutionary tube of paint
didn't exist yet,

and prepared pigments dried out
too quickly in the open air.

It wasn't until 1841

that the American painter,
John Goff Rand,

filed the paten on the soft
airtight tin tube,

of ready mixed color.

Delacroix intended
to work outdoors,

so all he packed was light
equipment, pencils,

water colors and pastels.

Some say he invented
the travel sketchbook,

in which sketches and drawings,
along with his notes,

were his log book.

His departure date is decided.

Right at the end of the year,
at the 31st of December,

New Year's Eve,

normally, Delacroix spends
the day with friends.

It's a special occasion.

This time, though,
he'll exceptionally be spending

this New Year's Eve with
Charles de Mornay

and Mademoiselle Mars.

Eugene Delacroix was a man full
of contradictions.

Solitary, yet worldly.

Modern, yet also nostalgic.

A homebody, but exotic, too.

He was never what you'd expect.

So he found himself
divided between

his excitement about
a new experience,

and his fear of the unknown.

On the first of January, 1832,
at three in the morning,

Delacroix and Mornay said
their goodbyes

to Mademoiselle Mars,

and to Paris.

So they set off on January
the 1st in really,

really terrible weather.

[Delacroix] This damn journey
has been nothing but problems.

To start with,
freezing conditions

of snow all the way Lyon
to Avignon,

the like, of which I have not
seen in Paris for ages.

Then finally, from Marseille
to Toulon,

squalls of wind and rain
that pierce to the bone

and slowed us up considerably.

[narrator] Paris to Toulon
took three days

in particularly
in climate weather.

They're absolutely freezing.

And when they get to Toulon,

their translator's not there.

They have to wait for him.

So it all starts for Delacroix
with a wait.

Every time he goes anywhere,
he has to wait.

[narrator] The corvette,
The Pearl had last raised anchor

and set sail for Morocco
on the 11th.

The crossing from Toulon
to Tangier takes 10 days.

And very soon,
especially when it's calm,

he feels like a prisoner.

On the 20th of January, 1832,

The Pearl arrived off Gibraltar.

where she was immediately put
in quarantine

because of a cholera epidemic
in France.

They're in the middle
Mediterranean,

and there's cholera.

They're not allowed
to land anywhere.

But Delacroix risks getting
into the boat,

that goes for supplies,
vegetables, chickens, etc,

that they get from the people
of Kadeej

by haggling from a distance.

They would literally throw
the money across to them.

And without, as they were
supposed to do,

soaking it with vinegar.

[narrator] The Pearl out
of quarantine now,

was at last nearing Tangier.

The next day,
Delacroix and Mornay

are finally allowed
to disembark.

Although there's no dock,
no port.

So they have to land
in a small boat.

[Marie] The Moroccans carry
all the passengers

to the beach on their backs.

Then they lead them off
to a guardroom

for a welcoming ceremony.

And there Delacroix's eyes
are first opened to it all,

and the first thing that
strikes him is the simplicity

of the Moroccan way of dressing.

[traditional music]

[Delacroix] I've just arrived
in Tangier,

and taken a look around.

I'm just stunned by all
the things I've seen.

So much have I longed to gaze
on the Orient,

that I was all eyes.

I could hardly believe
what I was seeing.

I am at this moment like a man
who dreams and sees things

that he fears will slip away
from him.

[narrator] But the reality
of his mission

puts pain to any dreams.

All was not quite as planned.

The Moroccans and the French
were all talking away.

But nobody could understand
each other.

The one interpreter,
Monsieur De-Gard,

only knew the Arabic
of the Lebanon,

or Tripoli Arabic,
where he used to work.

He couldn't understand a word.

So he was pretty much useless.

Abraham Benchimol took over.

[Maurice] He was a local
merchant who worked at the same

time as a sort of translator.

So he ended up being
their interpreter.

[narrator] In Morocco,

the Jews were masters
of the art of translation.

The interpreters of choice of
both sultans and the Europeans.

They're referred
to as Torgemen, or Drugmen.

Vice Consul
Jacque de Nie Delaporte,

welcomed the mission
to the French embassy

and took care of protocol
with the local authorities.

[peaceful music]

[speaking in foreign language]

No sooner were they off
the boat,

than the delegation,
with Delaporte in the lead

followed by Mornay, Delacroix,
and Benchimol the interpreter,

headed to the Kasbah to visit
the Pasha of Tangier,

[indistinct]

In Morocco, the Pasha,
or the governor,

was the sultan's representative
in a city or a province.

Mornay was to provide the pasha
with a document

outlining their exact plans
for meeting the sultan.

Benchimol was called
in at the last moment

to act as interpreter.

Delacroix is at the embassy,

and wandered around the town
in the surrounding area.

[birds chirping]

He has some materials with him,
of course.

Sketchbooks and crayons.

He walks around sketching
everything he sees.

And above all, he is fixing
it all in his mind.

Every corner, as he says,

"A picturesque abounds.

And the sublime is so real,
it just slays you."

He's just blown away,
fascinated by all he sees.

The sunshine was doing the
usually frail Delacroix good.

He noted that he was in good
health.

Never normally a lazy man,

he seemed to be rather enjoying
the good life.

[Delacroix] I spend some
of my time working,

and quite a lot, taking it easy.

I take long walks around
the place,

which give me great pleasure.

And I enjoy delightful moments
in the garden

at the gates of town.

Lazing around under
the orange trees

covered in blossom and fruit.

It feels very like back
when I was a child.

Perhaps it reawakens in me
my first memories

of the midday sun
when I was little.

Delacroix is also a frequent
guest of Abraham Benchimol,

the interpreter,
and his very welcoming family.

[Maurice] Benchimol's family
home is open house to him.

And he even takes him to visit
his sisters,

his brother, etc.

[Marie] How the Jews first came
to Tangier has been lost

in the midst of time.

Up until the beginning
of the 18th century,

successive invasions
by the Spanish and the English

has decimated the community.

It would slowly re-establish
itself though,

and by 1835,
it was over 2,000 strong,

forty percent
of the town's population.

In Tangier, there was no
mellahs, as they were called.

A mellah was the quarter
where all the Jews lived.

Tangier was a big melting pot.

[narrator]
Delacroix soon learned

that the Muslims were reluctant

to draw them,
much less paint them.

[Delacroix] I was sketching
on the fly

and with great difficulty,

due to the Muslims' dislike
of images.

I did, nevertheless, manage
to get some, both men and women,

to pose for a few coins.

[narrator] Jewish women
didn't have any problem

with images though.

At Benchimol's,

Delacroix found some more
willing models.

Most of the Arab women
Delacroix paints,

are from Abraham Benchimol's
family.

His wife, his daughters,
his nieces.

They posed for him
very willingly,

unlike the Muslim women.

[Delacroix] Little by little,
I'm insinuating myself

into the ways of this country,

so as to be able to sketch it,
ease a lot of Moorish faces.

This forceful race in all
its aspects

will stay in my memory as long
as I live.

In them, I truly find all beauty
of ancient days.

As for Mornay, he was just
killing time.

He was looking for information
about the weapons,

the armories, and how many
cannons the Moroccans had

that they could eventually use
against France.

But Delacroix just wanted
one thing only:

to draw and paint.

All his sketchbooks
are extraordinary,

because they're living
document.

He was noting down
endless phrases.

Sometimes on the palm
of his saddle.

He'd turn a page, turn his book
upside down,

and write down
what he was seeing.

"Lovely monument",
"Gigantic tree."

Then when he got home
that evening,

by the light of a candle
or a lantern,

he could paint in a bit
of watercolor.

He had noted down blue,

so he had put some blue.

Or red, so a bit of red.

But just as base colors.

He had add to them from visual
memory to enhance the reds,

or transform the blues, etc.

[speaking French]

[narrator] One of the
highlights of the auction,

would be the presentation
of the seven sketchbooks

from the Moroccan trip.

Each full of detailed
annotations, drawings,

watercolors, sketches
and thoughts.

They had served as an memoir

of the creation of the
Orientalist canvases

that Delacroix had produced
once back in Paris.

Unfortunately, nobody
was willing to bid
\N

for all seven of them,

and they would end up dispersed
between several buyers.

Four of them can be seen today.

Three at the Louvre Museum,
and the fourth

at Chateau de Chantilly.

They stand to this day

as a testament to the power
of memory.

And still communicate all the
astonishment and fascination

of an artist for another culture

at a completely new aesthetic.

[clapping]

Then no longer static frames

that depict some spectacle
or other,

is conversions of sensations.

A great vitality
in his memories.

What concerned Delacroix,

was not to forget.

To hold on to all
these sensations he'd gathered

on the moment.

He was, as he put it,

certain that he'd only catch
a shadow of it.

And he said, too, that his
memories were like trees,

ripped from their home soil.

Though we know that he thought
he couldn't capture everything.

The journey itself is the raw
material to draw on.

But the artist is also well
aware that it can only be used

as work once
it's been decanted.

The sketchbooks are scenes
from life.

Generally, at the homes
of Buzaglo,

Benchimol and others.

[traditional music]

[clapping in rhythm]

Delacroix is invited
to a Jewish wedding.

He goes with Mornay,
and some others.

There's a party.

It's held nowhere special.

Just in a simple Hoggard.

[narrator] The Jewish wedding
depicts a humble,

intimate occasion.

It's set in a comfortable
home where Jews

and Muslims all mingle.

Both visitors and musicians.

They're all relaxed and at ease
as they chat,

or give a few coins to one
of the beggars.

[Delacroix] As a secretary
with a little bench,

and noting down all the presents
as they come in,

it's like that,
he says afterwards.

People came, people went,

people off the street,
neighbors.

It really was a family
atmosphere.

[narrator]
But this living reality

seems a little stiff.

A bit too precise
to be really natural.

The light coming from above
in the composition though,

creates a balance between
the two groups of characters.

Enhancing the perspective,
and adding rhythm to the colors.

[Maurice] When the bride,
who's hidden away upstairs,

has to leave her parents' house,

and be taken
to her husband's place,

there's a whole party
in the street.

Everyone's holding candles.

And there's a real atmosphere.

With tambourines and everything,
a real family occasion.

And again, don't forget
that Tangier is a small town,

and people all know each other.

They're all neighbors
and friends.

And this moment is a big party.

[chanting]

[narrator] Exhibited at the
Salon de Louvre of 1841,

the work appeared faithful to
the actual artist's experience,

and astonished the public
with its technical originality.

Indeed, the Jewish wedding
was to open the way

for the impressionists

with their emphasis on color
and on the moment.

The art critic Delacroix said
as he left the salon,

"At close, everything becomes
mixed up and vague.

And the eye becomes confused
by little brush strokes

of red, or yellow, or blue,

that all look random
all over the place.

[Maurice] Delacroix's job
is to be attentive.

He checks it all out,
he needs to know.

He writes notes about
the jewelry,

about the hairstyles.

Particularly, the Jewish
hairstyles.

With all the chains attached
to necklaces

that we see
in the Jewish wedding.

[Marie] Delacroix was so
fascinated by all the images

that besieged him in Tangier,

that he would almost forget
Mornay's diplomatic mission.

Their final destination is
Meknes, where the sultan lives.

But before they can go
to Meknes,

They have to wait for word
on the sultan.

And that's well coming.

The Moroccan trip
was punctuated by long waits,

and endless setbacks.

What with all his wanderings
and the obligatory

official visits,

Delacroix was starting to live
with a different rhythm.

Far from Paris,

from the commissions
and all the social duties

and left to his own devices
in a strange country,

he could concentrate on his work

during his long strolls
around Tangier,

on his goals
and on his thoughts.

Part of what is so compelling
to Delacroix himself,

is that he really is seeing

something that none of his peers
has seen.

Any traveler always tries first

to get to know the face
of the country they're going to

from books, documents, etc.

Delacroix had got the idea
the country was full of Turks.

[Delacroix]
When I got to this country,

I found nothing
as I expected it.

Any traveler always indulges
in pointless occupation

of trying to guess
in his imagination

at what the people and things
he has come in search of

will look like.

When Delacroix goes to Morocco
and discovers it himself,

he paints, basically, what he
has seen and experienced.

He compares it to Roman
antiquity.

And he just keeps on finding
these very different people

to what he imagined.

And he says, "For us,
this is a whole new people."

[Delacroix] You feel like
you're in Rome or Athens

with all the cloaks and togas,

all the thousands
of ancient wonders.

Some rascal mending the shoe
on the corner for a few pennies

looks just like Brutus.

Rome is not in Rome."

It's revalidating for him,
in a sense,

that he discovers this living
antiquity as he sees

it in Morocco.

He understand, too, that he's
seen more than he could possibly

really integrate
into what he knows.

He acknowledges that there
are distinctions that he can't--

He doesn't have sufficient
information to understand.

And in part, it's because he's
living in the moment,

and in part, it's because
there's no reliable source

to explain what it is
that he sees.

It's really a revelation.

And it's present there
in his paintings.

And these costumes,
he's so astonished to see,

and in all the fresh colors.

Because, as he says,

"Everything's white like
the ancient games in Athens."

[Delacroix] The clothes are
very uniform, and very simple.

Their different ways of wearing
them, though,

lend them an amazing beauty.

[chatter]

[Marie] Delacroix is not a fan
at all of the black costume

that's virtually the uniform
of the 19th century.

It's the way of dressing
that makes him feel restricted.

And it doesn't flatter his body
at all.

Whereas, these ancient-styled

costumes absolutely
fascinate him.

Baudelaire hasn't yet praised
the beauty of the black suit.

And he comes up
with this wonderful phrase,

"Grace takes revenge
on our styles."

He shows these people
of actual much more elegance,

that they're not all dressed up,
as in straight-jackets.

And that next to them,

Europeans look
rather ridiculous.

[dramatic music]

[narrator] On one of his
excursions in Tangier,

Delacroix witnessed a fight
between consul general's horse

and Mornay's.

[horse grunts]

It was a scene that was to
inspire a number of paintings

that showed fights
between horses.

In particular, Arab Horses
Fighting in a Stable.

[dramatic music]

[horse neighs]

[Delacroix] At first,
they were rearing up,

and fighting with a fury
that made me scared

for their owners,

but which was wonderful
for a painting.

I saw there, I'm sure of it,

all the most fantastic
and delicate imaginings

of glove and ribbons.

And then the grey laid his head
on the other one's neck.

Horses, that are found in many
of his compositions,

not just the Orientals,

completely fascinated him
in Morocco.

His sketchbooks are filled
with detail.

Not just about
the horses themselves,

but also about the riders.

The style of riding
was so different

to what he knew himself.

For instance, there's their
short stirrup.

And the way they sit,

or the shape of the saddle,

how they hold the reins, etc.

These are all the details.

They show the key
interest he takes

in their horse-riding style.

And that will appear from now on
in all his equestrian paintings.

Not just the Oriental ones.

[lively music]

[narrator] At last,
after a two month wait,

Mornay received word
from the sultan

on the 3rd March, 1832.

Delegation would still
have to wait for the end

of Ramadan though,

before it could leave
for Meknes.

They signal the end of Ramadan
by firing canons by the Kasbah.

Peoples' houses immediately
explode with joy.

They're rifle shots,

children riding around
the streets,

the shops are all open.

The pasha goes
by with his green flag.

The Jews are also happy.

And they're all out
from their balconies

and leaning
from their windows.

Hanging their finest rugs out
over the walls

to celebrate
the Muslim festival.

It's a friendly and convivial
gesture of solidarity

between the two communities.

It's a big party.

The end of Ramadan.

Delacroix, unaccustomed
to this kind of outburst,

watch the scene peeking through
the shudders of a closed window.

All this jubilance looked
to him like a kind

of collective hysteria.

He would name
the resulting painting:

The Convulsions of Tangier.

Word arrives at last
from the sultan.

And the mission leaves Tangier
for Meknes.

It's a 200-kilometer journey,

and the whole thing will take
them 10 days.

The convoys set off in the
morning of the 5th of March.

It was led by the Caid
Mohammed-Ben-Abou

that Delacroix was to paint
many times.

[Maurice] Abu Benabdemalek

was the commander of their
accompanying guard.

And Delacroix rode proudly
alongside him all the way.

These are people who had been
hired by rivals of the French.

And in reality,
Ben-Abou was an English agent.

[Marie] On the 6th of March,
they arrived at Lake Lao

and pitched camp at
[indistinct].

It's a whole caravan, really.

Because there's all
their luggage,

but there are also all the gifts
they had bought for the sultan.

Mornay had once again to call
on Abraham Benchimol,

who is following the convoy
to stand in for [indistinct].

On the 8th of March, they
forwarded the Makasine River,

a tributary of the Lucos.

Their journey was not without
it's dangers,

since just like the ones
in Tangier,

their horses would sometimes
throw their riders

to fight among themselves.

Delacroix found the violence
of this spectacle thrilling.

Quite a lot of empathy
for the people he met.

As he says in his memoirs:

"I met men who are more manly
than us."

This frenzy to see and drink
in all he sees,

is not like the way modern
tourists are constantly

taking photos.

He accumulates as many
as a thousand sketches

while he's there in Morocco.

Delacroix analysis
of the process of memory

was a very lucid one.

Indeed, he observed
it in himself.

[Delacroix] I only started
to achieve something possibly

good on my African trip

once I managed to forget all
the little details,

and to concentrate in my
paintings on what was striking,

what was poetic.

Up till then, I was driven
by my love of accuracy,

which too many people mistake
for the truth.

[narrator] Although it was an
official mission,

their camps were spartan
and uncomfortable.

The tents were pitched each
night in unknown

and sometimes dangerous spots.

These makeshift shelters

would feature a great deal
in the sketchbook.

Crossing the river
was the inspiration

for Moroccan horseman crossing
a ford,

which Delacroix would paint
fifteen years later.

We've seen it once again
the artist's desire

to show the moment itself
as would photography,

and art that was still
then in its infancy.

[wind rustling]

[horse neighs]

The mission's final encampment

was on the 14th of March at the
foot of Mt. Zerhoun

outside Moulay Idriss,

a town built on two
of its foothills.

And in which, no foreigner
was allowed to set foot.

On the 15th of March,
the convoys set off for Meknes.

[Delacroix] A morning start,
fine weather.

The town of Sehorne
was at smoke.

The mountains on the horizon
to the right

half hidden by clouds.

Into the mountains and further
down the road,

first sight of the big valley
in which lies Meknes.

[narrator] Before they entered
the town,

Delacroix and Mornay took a tour
all around Meknes

and its round parts.

Meknes dated from the 11th
century.

It became the capital of Morocco
at the end of the 17th century

under the reign of the powerful
Sultan Moulay Ismail.

He build a splendid,
Hispano-Moresque citadel,

guarded with high walls, pierced
by nine monumental gates.

[chanting]

The delegation were guests
at a huge fantasia

organized just for them
by the sultan.

[indistinct] was a spectacular
musical performance

in honor of guests of the realm,

as an entertainment
and highlight of their trip.

An extravaganza of multi-colored
ballets and burnaces,

caftans and capes,

and dazzling horsemen
brandishing their rifles,

in a tournament of flags
fluttering drapery.

Salvos that left behind them
long trails of powder and smoke.

Sights that would be forever

ingrained on the artists'
imagination.

Those powdered trails would echo
through his entire memoir.

[traditional music]

He loved it all so much,

that he painted a beautiful
water color for Mornay

entitled: Arab Fantasia
at Meknes.

[horse snorting]

[gunshots]

The audience with the sultan

would feature in the second
sketchbook.

Delacroix would do many
sketches of the ceremony.

[traditional music]

They headed to the Darab Kabeer
district

to a big square where they
would meet the sovereign.

[Maurice] They arrive,
and they are sat in a corner,

and told to wait.

So they just watch.

There are the [indistinct]
the sultan soldiers,

and then his majesty
himself arrives,

alone on horseback,
and preceded by his ministers.

[hailing in unison]

[Delacroix]
From the narrow doorway,

they emerged first
at short intervals.

Small detachments of eight
or ten black soldiers

in pointed bonnets,

who then stood off to left
and right.

Then two men bearing lances.

Then the king came towards us
and stopped very close.

[narrator] Delacroix captures
with respect

and precision the entire aspect
of this ritual.

Including the Koran and the
prayer beats of the sultan

as commander of the faithful.

Baudelaire would say
this painting:

"The composition is excellent.

There is something unexpected
about it.

For it is so true and natural."

From the 23rd of March
to the 14th of April,

Delacroix explored the town
of Meknes.

The fruit market, the Mellah,
or Jewish quarter,

the greeneries, and the ancient
royal stables.

Theses stables were built
in the 17th century

by the Sultan Moulay Ismail.

And according to legend, could
hold up to 12,000 horses.

The alignment of
their white-washed clay pillars

offered striking perspectives

that Delacroix duly noted
in his sketchbook.

[Delacroix] An architect
who truly fulfills

all the conditions of his art,

seems to me a phoenix more
rare than a great painter,

or a great poet,
or a great musician.

It's clear to my eyes

that a reason to this lies
in that essential combination

of great common sense,
and great inspiration.

The practical details

that are the starting point
of great architecture

those crucial details go before
any ornamentation.

[narrator] In a letter dated
the 2nd of April,

Delacroix told a friend how
he longed to return to France.

On the 4th, Mornay sent
a letter informing

the chief of military staff
in Algeria

that Morocco was abandoning
its designs on the regions

of Tlemcen and Oran.

And promised to withdraw
its troops to Algeria.

The diplomatic mission had been
a success,

and its departure from Meknes
for Tangier

were set for the 5th of April,
1832 at 11 a.m..

Stuck yet again waiting
for official decisions,

Delacroix took the opportunity
to visit Seville,

where he found many similarities
to all he'd seen in Morocco.

[Delacroix]
I'm back from Spain,

where I spent several weeks.

I saw Cadiz and Seville.

There in Spain, I found
everything I had left behind

with the moors.

Charles de Mornay has to report
on his mission

to the French government's
representative in Algeria.

So Delacroix leaves Algeria
with a mission.

First to Oran,
and then to Algiers.

Legend has it, that during his
brief three-day stay in Algeria,

Delacroix was able to penetrate
the most closely guarded

part of a Muslim
household barren.

He managed to satisfy
his curiosity,

thanks to the help
of Viktor Provelle,

a port engineer,

who managed to convince a former
pirate to let them visit

his house.

[Delacroix] The women
of Algiers are considered

by the Orientals
to be the prettiest

of the whole Barbaricas.

They know how to enhance
their beauty with rich silks,

and velvets embroidered
with gold.

Their complexion
is remarkably white.

Real flowers, roses,
and jasmines are often woven

into their elegant hairstyles.

When having been led down
darkened corridors,

we entered into
their private domain.

Our eyes were dazzled
by the brilliant light,

and by the fresh faces
of the women and children,

which suddenly appeared in that
profusion of silk and gold.

The Women of Algiers
is an exceptional piece

that reveals Delacroix's
feelings about visiting

that house.

There's a beautiful women
lying there,

that he sketched in a pastel.

Delacroix wanted to do
something more Algerian.

So to that end,
he used some objects
\N

he hadn't seen in Morocco.

The hookah, for example.

Hookahs are smoked all over
the Ottoman Empire,

and Algeria was Ottoman
at the time.

An hookah is heir to order.

Next to the hookah,

delighted, he's put a kanoon,

a little clay brazier.

So that's earth and fire.

And the way the hookah's tube
curls around

is quite exceptional,
and quite erotic, too.

And then, the black woman
passing by.

She's indifferent,
magnificent, majestic.

And the way she's lifting
her foot;

one thing you always find
in Delacroix,

is women's' feet.

He was always obsessed
by their beautiful feet

when they took off their
slippers and went barefoot.

[Christine] We also have
in this painting

a kind of intrusion.

An intrusion by a man
into a place, where normally,

he's not allowed to be.

And a European man at that.

And an intrusion that represents
the sometimes predatory attitude

of the Orientless-painters
to bring back a trophy.

A not uncommon criticism
of them.

[narrator]
In Women of Algiers' apartment,

underneath the nonchalance
and the deceptive sweetness,

we can see the artist' desire
to denounce on canvas

and cryptic images, the ravages
perpetrated by French troops

in their recently
colonized Algeria.

In the background,
there's a cupboard.

It's open, dark, empty.

It recalls all the ravaging,

and the plundering
of the French army.

And that hookah?
Guess where he bought it.

A junk shop in Paris.

Everything, every little detail
in this painting

has something to say.

He's giving clues, and thereby,
telling a story.

What was his reaction
to all the abuse?

The multiple abuses carried
out by the French army,

following the conquest
in 1830.

He writes, "I saw. I saw.
I saw."

Three times. "I saw."

He's outraged.

In his memoirs, he enumerates
all the brutality.

Whole gardens ripped up,

walls destroyed all over
the place to make windows,

and streets widened
to let cars through.

All with no thought for the need
for shade.

Cemeteries defiled.

He details it all, and he adds:

"Apparently, with our tailcoats
and our caps,

we were going to bring
to African soil

a new climate, and a new way
of life."

His condemnation
of this barbarity

is relentless.

He talks of ruthless courage.

It's a brutal overturning
of a whole way of life,

one he has tasted and fallen
in love with in Morocco.

[narrator] But the early 20th
century politics

were to betray his convictions.

These images that Delacroix
brought back from Morocco

would be hijacked and diffused

in the promotion of that very
colonialism he so despised.

Orientless painting in general,

embraces these views.

You can see them in brochures
and advertisements.

Particularly, during
the interwar years,

with their horsemen,
and their concubines.

Paintings are a big part
of the evolution of tourism.

[dramatic music]

Still shocked
by his Algerian experience,

Delacroix boarded the Pearl
back to Toulon.

Quarantined once again,

he busied himself classifying
his material.

[Marie] Back in Paris, Delacroix
is completely disorientated.

He's like a stranger
in his own land.

He feels out of place.

Morocco is a shock to the
system, France even more so.

He shuts himself in his studio
and he won't see anyone.

Nothing interests him.

He's always been a sociable man,
but now it all looks stupid

to him, useless, uninteresting.

So for days, weeks even,

He just completely cuts himself
off from anyone.

It takes him a long time
to get his bearings again.

Now he knows there's another
way of living.

And this may well transform
his whole life.

So while it's well known,
for example,

that he paints the street scenes
in Meknes,

it's among the first two works

that he does after the trip
to Morocco.

Which he doesn't have
the opportunity to show

until the salon of 1834.

It's time for the salon.

The first canvas is supposed
to be a street in Meknes.

But in fact, it's Tangier,
at the foot of the Kasbah.

There's a city berber.

This berber features
in several paintings.

There's an Arab man lying there
in the doorway.

Right off to one side,

there's a Jewish woman
with a young boy,

always by her side so she won't
be taken as a prostitute.

Then he does
The Women of Algiers.

The Women of Algiers
is a response on his part,

Everyone's been expecting
this great painter,

this famous painter, who's gone
off for a mission

that everyone's been
enthusing about.

[narrator]
Public and critics alike

were disappointed
by the intimate nature

of the canvases presented
at the salon.

People were expecting the kind
of epic and bloodthirsty scenes

That Horace Vernet had brought
back from Egypt.

What we tend not to focus
on is the painting

that was not accepted
in the salon of 1834,

which is a collision
of Arab horsemen.

In addition to these two very
static scenes,

one, an close interior
with women in a private scene.

The other, a street scene

available to the view
of any passer-by.

There's also this extraordinary
vision of cladding horsemen,

that's painted
with extraordinary vigor,

and movement, and color.

That if it had been seen by
the salon audience at that time,

would've added another dimension
to what he wanted to show

as part of his experience
of having been there.

[narrator] On his return
from Morocco,

and using all the precise
indications in his sketchbooks,

Delacroix started work on a
series of Orientalist paintings.

His journey to Morocco
represents an important advance

in the way the west view
the history of the Orient.

His paintings, that resulted
from his exploration

of their country,
were the very first to reflect

the daily life
of the Moroccan people.

Delacroix painted the Orient
that he observed, noted down,

and sketched, more like an
ethnologist than a painter.

[Delacroix] Is it possible
to recount faithfully

all the different impressions,

even the simple events
of a journey?

I challenge anyone on their
return from an interesting trip

to put down on paper
all the many emotions

they have gone through.

They'll, I'm sure,
just throb their hands

at the apparent impossibility

of conveying to the reader
all the variety

of their experience.

When I go back still full

of such new and varied sights
and sounds,

it seemed important to reproduce
absolutely everything.

With a distance I now have
from it all,

I believe I can see what is
important and what is not.

He works a lot.

And his studio is not like those
of other painters of his time,

which are pretty much open shop
with people coming and going.

Very open, very sociable places.

Delacroix's studio
is not like that.

It's not to say
he has no visitors,

but people just don't drop
by like that.

And the studio becomes
vigorously protected.

From the moment he takes
into his service,

his governess,
Jeanne-Marie Le Guillou,

who keeps an eye on everything
and keeps it all going.

She looks after him, of course.

But she's almost like
a secretary, too.

And she's an excellent cook
as well.

She even lays out his palette.

He grows very fond
of her, indeed.

She'll stand by him
until his death.

Working in his studio
from seven in the morning

until late at night,

he allowed himself
few distractions.

Ever since the 1830s,

his cousin Josephine de Forget,

the niece of
Josephine de Beauharnais,

first wife of the
Emperor Napoleon I,

has been his mistress.

He kept up a correspondence

with his 'comforter'
as he called her,

in his love letters to her
right up until his death.

So he's had a stable,
long lasting relationship.

But he's also really valued
his freedom.

He's someone who never married.

Never had children,
and never wanted to.

And who has always been
dedicated to his art.

And he clearly stated
that painting is the most

demanding of mistresses.

And if you abandon her,

or you don't pay her
enough attention,

she'll really make you pay
for it.

So he's really passionately
devoted to his art.

There's a certain contradiction
to his personality, of course.

I think he was, all his life,
extremely careful

to create intensive
working conditions

that excluded all sorts
of distractions.

And you can see this asceticism

if you read his journals
in their entirety.

But all the same,
I think he lived this voyage,

this particular distraction
to the full.

[traditional singing]

[narrator] In 1847,
with the help of his notes,

Delacroix looked back at the day
the sultan of Morocco

summoned his little
personal orchestra

to brighten up one of the
mission's last evenings

in Meknes at their guesthouse
in [indistinct].

It was a trio. Two musicians
and a female singer.

From his sketchbook,

he was able to reproduce all
the feelings

he had at the time.

Delacroix was a good musician.

And he had been impressed
by the melodies and the rhythms

of Oriental music.

He brought back from his journey
a number a string instruments

and small drums.

There's not a single European.

And in absolutely all
those paintings,

from the Jewish Wedding
or the Fanatics of Tangier,

to The King of Morocco Coming
Out of his Palace,

you won't see
a single westerner.

He wanted his work to keep
a Moroccan harmony.

[narrator] Delacroix had
to find Parisian stand ins

for the Moroccan characters.

He was faithful to his models,

so he asked the young Laura
to pose for several of them.

One can't help noticing
a disturbing similarity

between Liberty Leading
the People

and one of the Women of Algiers,

Greece on the Ruins
of Missolonghi,

and The Orphan Girl
at the Cemetery.

Nobody has noticed
that in the Barque of Dante,

both Dante and Virgil,
as well as the plague victims

that are trying to stop
the boat,

are all the same model.

He used a model from Goya's
studio, whose name was Swiss.

And he used the same model
for all the characters.

[narrator] Delacroix found
another source of models

in the new medium
of photography.

Unlike most of his
contemporaries

who were mistrustful of it,

he was curious, and convinced
that it would save a great deal

of time with life models.

So he had photographer,
Eugene Drawer,

take a series of steady,
both male and female nudes

that he himself posed.

He would use them
for future paintings.

He sometimes carried
these photos around with him,

so he can still paint in places

where no life models
were available.

On one occasion, though,

displeased by one of the shots,

he wrote in his journal,
"I find it terrifying,

a sad effigy.

For heaven's sake,
let it not survive,

the result of that moment."

Although frequently slammed
by the critics,

by 1833, Delacroix was accepted

as a great establishment
painter.

Louis Philippe's minister
of public works

commissioned him for his first
large-scale project.

Consisting of a ceiling
in eight large sections,

with four freezers
and eight pillars,

the throne room
of the Palais Bourbon.

Five years later, he's asked
to decorate the library

of the parliament building

followed by the senate of the
Palais du Luxembourg.

Although, Eugene Delacroix
professed himself
\N

to be a confirmed Atheist,

in 1849, he received his last
public commission

for the Church of Saint-Sulpice
in Paris.

It would take him 12 years
to finally complete it in 1861.

He really wheeled and dealt
to get this last commission.

And it wasn't easy.

Everyone was laughing at him
and saying he was incapable

of finishing a painting.

People were saying that most
of his works were done

by his assistants,

and were all painted for him,

while he simply
did the sketches.

Some were even claiming he had
lost the use of his hands.

[speaking French]

[narrator] That number 297
at the Drawer auction,

was some preparatory sketches

for one of the master's
final works,

and perhaps his most personal,

Jacob Wrestling with the Angel.

Despite the importance
of the work,

Delacroix was left complaining

bitterly that the officials
hadn't shown up

at the opening of the holy
angels chapel in St. Sulpice.

[clapping]

It's tough to just wait for days
on end. Two whole days

for visitors who never show up.

To whom he sent letters
and invitations,

but who never come.

Delacroix is there, and he's
giving himself entirely.

He's laying himself bare.

He's left these two
majestic paintings.

They're not frescos,
they're paintings.

And they symbolize his whole
life, his journey, his doubts,

his passions.

And in them, he's left here
and there little clues.

Not to mention the Heliodorus,

where there's no angel,
no more angels.

And angels don't have wings
anymore.

No painting by Delacroix
is just a picture.

There's something hidden
in all of them.

That's the way it is,
his whole life long.

And even when he paints
the Church of St. Sulpice,

he throws in something
that reminds him of his journey

to Morocco.

Fancy daren't put right there
at the feet of Jacob

fighting with the angel,

the sword of Ben-Abou.

The sword of Ben-Abou,
Ben Abdemalek gave to him.

[narrator] Eugene Delacroix

started writing his journal
at the age of 24.

He would keep it up throughout
his whole life.

In it, every evening, he would
tell of his daily life,

along with notes
and reflections on art,

on his research, and his joys
and disappointments.

There's no order to it,
and no plan.

But the journal of Delacroix

is considered one of the most
important documents

in the history of art.

[Delacroix] What I desire
above all,

is not to lose sight
of the fact that I'm writing

for myself alone.

Thus, I hope I will remain true,

and I shall be the better
for it.

[narrator]
As the years went by,

partly for reasons of health,

the painter withdrew gradually
from public life,

and would only see
a few close friends.

He retired to his house
in Champrosay

a few kilometers from Paris
on the banks of the Seine.

In the last decade of his life,

he only took part in one salon.

That of 1859, where his work
was once again sneered at.

Delacroix was by now even more
favoring color over line,

which so invokes impressionism.

At the same time,

surging younger painters
were discovering his art,

and appreciating
its innovative nature.

He never wanted to be a teacher,

but he would become for them
a kind of spiritual master.

Some would even make a cult
figure of him.

As in this painting,
Homage to Delacroix,

painted after his death
by Fantin-Latour,

who shows himself surrounded
by the painter's drouthier.

Whistler and Manet,
and the poet Baudelaire.

Baudelaire expressed unbounded
admiration for Delacroix.

He was someone of an amazing
understanding of him.

[Christine] Baudelaire says
of his paintings:

"It's as if the color thinks
for itself.

Independently of the objects
it's dressing.

And it's possibly
Women of Algiers

in their apartment

that best represents
the brilliant colors

and all that expressiveness."

Delacroix was wary
of Baudelaire.

He takes him a bit too lightly,
I feel.

Baudelaire gives him the
"Flowers of Evil"

in a beautiful hardback edition,

and he takes ages to even reply.

He even says in his journals,

"Baudelaire is not one
of my friends."

[narrator] Delacroix would be
an inspiration

to those that followed.

Van Gogh would borrow Pieta,

as well as the Good Samaritan.

While Manet would paint a new
Barque of Dante.

And [indistinct], a detail
from the Jewish wedding.

Today, from country to country,
generation to generation,

Liberty Leading the People

has become a world-wide
manifesto of popular power,

and the revolt
against injustice.

Rarely has a painting
been so often recycled,

hijacked, and glorified.

As for the so-called naturalist
Orientalism of Delacroix,

it, too, has had its followers.

The late 19th century painters,
Madame Au Cousteau,

Eugene Fermont,

Reisman,

And Gerome would all paint

their own experiences
of the Orient.

One though, would break from
the prevailing romanticism.

Olympia, Manet's realist

caused a scandal
at the 1863 salon.

He had dared to paint
a courtesan

with the rough feet of someone
who had to walk around.

In the 20th century,

Métis continued the tradition
with some of his odalisque.

We pass through Métis
after Delacroix

to get to Picasso.

And that's what
it's so often about.

A homage to the great precursor.

[narrator]
Orientalism had been born

of colonialism,
and would die with it.

Egyptian independence in 1953,

followed by Morocco
and Tunisia in '56,

and Algeria in '62.

All had a lot to do with the
end of the artistic movement.

North Africa,
depicted by those Europeans,

no longer corresponded
to how things were.

And contemporary
North African artists

could now express themselves

and exhibit in galleries
and museums worldwide.

Delacroix never returned
to Morocco.

He would keep on over
and over again,

right 'till the end painting
the Orient.

Right up to this last work,

Arab Skirmishing
in the Mountains,

which he finished just days
before his death.

A last farewell to the country,
to the people,

the culture, and the colors
he discovered there.

[somber music]

The thousand and one scattered
little fragments of life

captured on paper in the
sketchbooks Eugène Delacroix,

will long remain the key
to his great masterpieces,

with all their perfumes
of the Orients.