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The Modern Relevance of the French Atelier Tradition
Growing out of a medieval system of tutelage and apprenticeship, the French atelier tradition lives on in many contemporary painters’ studio practices.
A telier practices exist at the core of Western art history. In studios across Europe, teams of artists and craftspeople worked together under the direction of one masterful eye and hand to generate some of the most important artworks in history. Around the 20th century, modern and contemporary art began to stress a more individualistic conception of the artist, and consequently deemphasized atelier traditions. However, this multifaceted system is still thriving and integral to many living artists, who both shed light on these traditional painting methods and give them new relevance today.
Since the Middle Ages, the French word atelier has described places where artists and artisans work and live. While the term is nearly synonymous with an artist’s studio, several principles distinguish ateliers as spaces for work, education and supervision. Dating back to the guild systems, eager students went to ateliers to apprentice for masters and hone their skills, eventually becoming independent journeymen and possibly even gaining the rank of full-fledged masters themselves. Ateliers are associated with a variety of mediums and goods but lent themselves particularly well to the production of master paintings, given the amount of labor it took to produce these marvelous feats, which were often undertaken as timely commissions. As with anything that has existed for hundreds of years, there have certainly been evolutions in painting ateliers; however, this line of pedagogy and production from one central figure has helped the atelier to remain so enduring.
Although non-French studios were not always called ateliers, many early examples across Europe embody the concept and its emphasis on a lineage of teaching through work in the studio. Both Leonardo da Vinci and Pietro Perugino were pupils of Andrea del Verrocchio. Perugino famously later became Raphael’s teacher after seeing the young artist’s talent. In learning from Perugino, Raphael copied the master’s technique so well that Vasari notes the precocious student’s work was often indistinguishable from Perugino’s. Later, Raphael developed his style to become one of the most famous painters of the Renaissance, but the soft gracefulness of his figures is indebted to Perugino. Vasari also recounts that Raphael’s appreciation and gratitude toward his former teacher extended to electing not to destroy a painted vaulting in papal apartments and halls that Perugino had painted out of respect.
Whether collegial or cutthroat, ateliers’ competing influence and production birthed prized works from the Renaissance and Enlightenment.
Not every atelier courted goodwill, though; some even resulted in outright animosity. As one of the Venetian school’s most notable portraitists, Jacopo Tintoretto was part of other artists’ and artisans’ ateliers before finding fame. Perhaps most remarkable was Tintoretto’s tumultuous and brief student tenure with Titian, under whom he was an apprentice, only to be ousted from the studio due to supposed jealousy over the young Tintoretto’s prowess or perhaps leaving because of Titian’s insufficient mentorship. Titian even went so far as to promote Paolo Veronese to the detriment of Tintoretto’s career. While not always collegial and quite cutthroat, these ateliers’ competing influence and production birthed prized works from the Italian Renaissance.
During the 18th and 19th centuries, the atelier system was at the height of its popularity and influence in France. Key to this was the notion of lineages within the teaching studios and their cascading influence. Jean-Léon Gérôme and Jules Joseph Lefebvre famously epitomized the notion of studios as spaces for teaching. In their dissemination of technique, both educated hundreds of artists globally who had a profound and vast influence on the 20th century, including Osman Hamdi Bey, Mary Cassatt, Thomas Eakins, Odilon Redon and Félix Vallotton. Along with their teaching in these cosmopolitan spaces, both artists were some of the earliest to have their studios photographed due to the medium’s advent. A photograph of Gérôme sitting in his atelier before paintings and sculptures in a sumptuously decorated space gives us a glimpse into the life of an artist rarely seen with such immediate detail.
In the 21st century, there have been many continuations of the atelier. The Cree artist Kent Monkman has perhaps most notably and overtly carried the tradition into contemporary art, drawing inspiration directly from the masters to build a transnational creative hub. Working across studios in Canada and New York, the artist models his space and practice after legendary figures such as Peter Paul Rubens and Eugène Delacroix: he starts with drawings, works his way up to color studies and finally scales up to grand paintings that are in dialogue with the history of painting and made alongside studio assistants.
The painter’s compositions emulate these European painters from a technical standpoint and are rife with allusions. However, Monkman uses his perspective as an Indigenous person to display powerful narratives of Native cultures with an emphasis on queer identities. This is punctuated by including his alter ego, Miss Chief Eagle Testickle, in the paintings, who represents the Indigenous Two Spirit tradition, a third gender and nonbinary sexuality that contrasts repressive heteronormative standards. Blending high European painting traditions, Indigenous representation and campy queer aesthetics, Monkman proves the vitality of the atelier while also subverting it.
Despite going through the hands of many, the work produced in ateliers returns to one artist. Part of this foundation is not just the production of the final product but numerous preparatory works on paper and small-scale oil sketches. These pieces, often more intimate, allow us to see the exacting thought processes of each artist – a revelation of their deftness.
Rubens’ extraordinary, modestly sized oil sketch Annunciation (circa 1628-29) – which was recently exhibited in Monkman’s studio during a collector event hosted by Sotheby’s – depicts the famous scene of Gabriel descending to deliver the news of the immaculate conception to Mary. Despite the innate grandeur of the moment and final painting’s 10-foot-plus height, Ruben’s early preparation presents a private, more quiet perspective to contemplate how artists produce images. In this charged scene, the fleshy expression of the Virgin appears overwhelmed by streaking light and a messenger coming from above. There is no fear or hesitation, though, rather a billowing sense of movement in each figure’s clothing and contorted body. These works directly from the artists are the heart of an atelier, pumping the creative vision that steers the rest of the system and is a reminder of the indelible role these spaces play in art history.
