Provenance
Private collection, France;
sold Millon & Associés. Paris, December 8, 1997, no. 186 (as “Sarah Bernhardt”);
Private collection, France
The very dapper Georges Clairin (figs. 1a -c) studied in the workshops of the traditional painters
Isidore Pils and François-Édouard Picot before in 1861 entering the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris
and then first exhibited at the Salon in 1866. In 1869 he travelled to North Africa where he would
return several times, and this inspired both scenes of native life and fantasy.1 During the Franco-
Prussian War of 1870-71 he served in the Garde National and was posted as an attaché to the
French embassy in Tangiers.2 Later he had success as both a symbolist and decorative painter
especially of theaters. He even designed the décors for the first production of Bizet’s Carmen , but
Clairin was best known for his famous friends – the painters Henri Regnault, Jean-Léon Gérôme,
and Marià Fortuny, the composer Camille Saint-Saëns and, above all, the great actress Sarah
Bernhardt (1844-1923). They met about 1874,3 and he was first her lover and then one of her
closest confidants for nearly fifty years. The handsome Clairin, who has been described as “warm,
cultivated, amusing and critical in the way of a loving brother,”4 was “a hopeless romantic, who
dressed the part of a painter in the most expensive of bohemian clothes.”5 Proust’s friend, the
composer Reynaldo Hahn (1875-1947), who often visited Bernhardt late in her life, described
Clairin as a “delicate-minded, magnanimous artist.” And he related that Clairin called Bernhardt
“Dame Jolie,” and she called him “Jojotte.”6 In 1878 Clairin accompanied Sarah on her infamous
ascent over Paris in a hot air balloon (fig. 2 ), about which she wrote a charming account, In the
Clouds , illustrated with “delightful drawings” by Clairin.7 He also helped decorate her luxurious
new Parisian house on the corner of the Avenue de Villiers and the rue Fortuny with a fresco of
Aurora,8 and later in 1887, he was with her when she discovered the location of her dream escape
house in Brittany at Belle-Ȋ le-en-Mer. There she built a bungalow for him where he could work
and also take seaweed baths, and they spent many summers together playing tennis, dancing, and
entertaining (figs. 3a-b),9 and there he died. He also joined her on her tours to London in 1879 and
1896. But most importantly it was Clairin, along with the Czech artist Alphonse Mucha, who
provided posters and depictions of Madame Sarah that helped spread her image and fame. The
first sensational canvas was the over-life-size portrait of Sarah lounging at home with her sleek
wolfhound at her feet (fig. 4a). This was shown at the Salon of 1876 and won the praise of some
critics, but both Émile Zola and Henry James disliked it.10 Nevertheless, Clairin, who told a friend
that formerly his inspiration had been absinthe, but “now it’s Sarah,”11 went on to produce many
images of the “Divine Sarah” in allegorical works (fig. 4b),12 and in both private moments (figs.
5a-d) and in a variety of her theatrical roles (figs. 6a-j), although in some cases it is difficult to tell
them apart.
Bernhardt had immense talent to go with what Victor Hugo called “her golden voice.” The writer
Jules Lemaître outlined three causes for “the powerful attraction which Sarah Bernhardt exerts on
us.” These were first of all her intelligence; she “understands the parts she plays, constructs them
carefully and plays them without sparing herself.” The second cause was “her physical
appearance…heaven has endowed her with exceptional gifts; it has made her strange, surprisingly
slender and supple, and it has covered her thin face with a disturbing grace.” In addition to her
chameleon-like ability to adapt her persona to a wide-range of diverse characters from gypsies to
princesses, “she dresses and makes up delightfully... she resembles the fantastic queens of Gustave
Moreau, those dream figures, in turn hieratical and serpentine, possessing a mystical and sensual
attraction. Even in modern parts she keeps this strangeness which is given her by her elegant
thinness and her Oriental, Jewish type…But the greatest originality of this entirely personal artist
is that she does what no one had dared to do before her – she acts with her whole body.”13
Beyond all these stellar attributes, Bernhardt was a notably hard worker, continually performing
throughout her long life to support both herself and her extended family in a grand manner. She
and the French public of the late nineteenth century loved exotic costume dramas in which she
could indulge in elaborate costumes and passionate death scenes. Thus when Sarah took over
management of the Théâtre de la Renaissance in 1893, she presented a series of plays, both old
and new, ranging from the classic Phédra to Lorenzaccio by Alfred de Musset, and Gismonda by
her favorite playwright Sardou (who also wrote La Tosca for her). As she declared of her
approach, “In the theater the natural is good, but the sublime is even better.”14 Early in 1894 the
choice fell on a new play, written in verse, Sarah’s favorite format,15 by Armand Silvestre and
Eugène Morand with incidental music by Gabriel Pierné. This was Izeyl , which had its premiere
on January 24, 1894.16 Set in India it was a variation on the theme of Thais with a beautiful
courtesan converted by a holy man, a tale ultimately derived from the Biblical account of Christ
and Mary Magdalen. In this case the rather complicated plot centers on the part played by
Bernhardt – Izeyl, who is what the text describes as a “Nautch girl.”17 That was a term for a
specific kind of Indian dancer (fig 7a), who often performed at Hindu temples, but then in
European settings became a popular entertainer (fig. 7b). In the context of the play she is definitely
revealed to be a successful courtesan with a palace of her own. From here she sees and falls in
love with the prince, who will become the Buddha, but he refuses her advances, and after she
travels to his retreat, she is converted to his new religion and decides to give up all worldly
pleasures and goods. Izeyl is in the process of distributing her wealth when she is accosted by the
prince’s younger brother, who desires her passionately, and (much like Tosca in Sarah’s previous
stage success) she grabs a dagger and stabs him. For this murderous act she is condemned to
blindness and terrible torture after which she dies in the arms of the Buddha.
Bernhardt, interested in all aspects of contemporary culture, dabbled in mysticism, ésotérism ,
exotisism , and spiritualism. She was known to recite the poems of Sar Joséphin Péladan, the
founder of the Rose+Croix Society.18 In France during the late nineteenth century there was
something of a craze for theories and things Indian and Buddhist, as witnessed, for example, in the
poetry and prose of Jean Lahor and the Parnassiens as well as by paintings and prints by Gauguin
and Paul Ranson (figs. 8a-b).19 The playwright Lugné Poë even wrote at this same time two Hindu
dramas.20 The authors of Sarah’s play revealed in an interview that they had actually read
Buddhist texts and found there accounts of courtesans converted by Buddhist princes, but for their
purposes, they invented the more “harmonious” name of “Izeyl.”21
This play with its mix of melodrama and religion in what was characterized as “virile poetry”22
had grand sets evocative of India by several designers. The first act (fig. 9a) was done by a wellknown
stage and opera designer, Marcel Jambon, and the third (fig. 9b) by the distinguished team
of Amable Petit and Eugène-Benoît Gardy.23 Both Clairin and Bernhardt had a hand in devising
the costuming. The premiere of a play with Sarah was news, and a number of sketches of the
dramatic action appeared in both French and English journals (figs. 10a-e). The play, or at least
Sarah’s performance, was well received by the press and public.24 One critic described her as “a
delicious and troubling synthesis of all the mysterious painters like Gustave Moreau.”25 And a
writer in Le Figaro observed, “What makes the greatness of this artist, and which I have never
more clearly seen than this evening, is the mixture in her of the poetry of an impersonal, mythical
being with an almost frightening precision of movement….In the third act she wears a costume
which clings to her figure so that she seems to be naked.”26 Despite this and the sumptuous sets
and costumes, the play ran for only two months, and then in June 1894 Bernhardt took it to Daly’s
Theatre to open her London season (fig. 11a). The magazine Punch concluded it’s rather tongue in
cheek review of “Sarah Chrysostoma” (fig. 11b) with the opinion: “Not exhilarating, but
memorable.”27 Later in 1896 Bernhardt performed the play in French with the original sets and
costumes a few times on her tour to the United States, first in New York at Abbey’s Theatre28
where some photographs of the final scene were made (fig. 12a) and then at the Brooklyn
Academy of Music and Boston’s Tremont Theater during March (fig. 12b). 29 Here critics wrote:
Sarah Bernhardt has not been seen in Boston for four years and Izeyl is one of the most sensational
novelties of a decade on the Paris stage… Bernhardt’s art was evidenced in all its power in the third
act. No one can portray pure, unbridled passion as she can. There is in her nature an immense
sympathy with primeval traits. She is not modern. She has nothing to do with self-restraint...She is
an animal. She weeps, she laughs, she rages. Why? Because she feels like it.30
She then took it on to Baltimore and Canada;31 and she even recorded one of its dramatic passages
when in New York, but the fragile cylinders do not seem to have survived.32 As late as her 1905
tour to America, a photo of Bernhardt in Izeyl (fig.13a) was still being used for publicity, and upon
her death a photo of her as Izeyl (although misidentified) was included in the montage of images
in The New York Times (fig. 13b).33
Fortunately, a great many photographs by the era’s greatest portrait photographer, Félix Nadar
(figs. 14a-c) and others (fig. 14d), as well as the period sketches and cartoons in the press allow us
to appreciate and identify Bernhardt’s richly adorned costume. The key feature of this in the early
acts was a large flower jewel, a blue enamel lotus, designed by the leading art nouveau jeweler of
the day, René Lalique (fig. 15),34 which she wore, like a corsage, in the center of her chest.35
Looking carefully at the present painting, one does see such a jewel. Certainly the hair style is
different, and there is no moment in the play when she sits in a courtyard in this manner. However,
the English translation of the play states that Act III, “the strong act of the play,” takes place in the
court room of Izeyl’s palace, which, sounding a lot like Sarah’s own home (fig. 16), is described
as “skins of rare animals, magnificent brocades, exquisite flowers are everywhere in reckless
profusion.”36
It was Clairin’s general approach in his theatrical depictions of Sarah to portray her in costume as
the central figure and to then extrapolate all the surrounding action or ethos of the particular play.
This can be seen in his paintings of her in the roles of Ophelia, Théodora, Cléopatra, L’Aiglon,
and St. Théresa (figs. 6b, e, f, g, and h). In the present painting he appears to give similar treatment
to the Indian tinged Izeyl . Not only is the costume appropriate, but, as can be seen in several of
Nadar’s staged photographs (figs.17a-c) and one of the journal sketches (fig. 18), a distinctive
prop was a huge fan of peacock feathers, which was in some cases held by her servant behind her
head. Just such a fan can be seen on the ground at the left corner of Clairin’s painting, but he also
incorporates it to create a halo-like effect for his leading lady. Her very rigid pose with crossed
legs is reminiscent of Indian sculptural images of the seated, meditating Buddha (figs. 19a-b). In
addition her grim, set face with its ferocious intensity and the fact that her right hand is clutching a
dagger also remind one of Indian bronze sculptures of Kali the all-powerful Hindu goddess, the
destroyer of evil, who is often shown brandishing a knife (fig. 20). And in fact the directions of the
play specify that Izeyl’s own palace is across from a temple dedicated to Kali, “the goddess of
death.”37 For inspiration such Indian works of art could be seen in Paris at the Musée Guimet
which had opened in 1889. Thus, this painting, like the play itself, combines both Hindu and
Buddhist elements, so that when all is considered, it does seem reasonable to conclude that this
painting is indeed Clairin’s highly evocative response to Izeyl. To the Indian-inspired elements
Clairin goes over the top in adding his own fantastic invention of the pair of frightening Oriental
dragon fish flanking the space above Izeyl. He had employed a similar decorative motif in his
watercolor of Sarah wearing a kimono (fig. 21).
Even the original frame has the lotus motif, possibly derived from Owen Jone’s well-known
Grammar of Ornament (fig. 22a)38 and also frequently used in designs by Mucha (fig. 22b), which
is appropriate for both an Indian or an Egyptian subject. The same tile wall with its combination of
lotus and peacock feather patterns is also found in what has usually been described as Clairin’s
painting of a North African Ouled Naïl dancer (fig. 23).These semi-nomadic residents of Algeria
and Morocco in their highly elaborate costumes (fig. 24)39 had indeed been seen and depicted by
Clairin (figs. 25a-b), but here he is clearly combining the memory of them with elements from
Izeyl , most notably the flower ornament and large fan. In fact several of the photographs and
sketches of Sarah as Izeyl show her in the dramatic pose of holding up her arms to spread a
magnificent cape behind her head (figs. 26a-c), so one could well identify this work as well as
“Bernhardt as Izeyl.”
It was Marcel Proust in his grand survey of French nineteenth-century society, Remembrance of
Things Past , who, portraying Sarah in the guise of his character Berma, rightly noted: “She
contrived to introduce those vast images of grief, nobility, and passion, which were the
masterpieces of her own personal art.”40 Clairin captured this, but he was not the only artist to be
entranced by Sarah Bernhardt. Among the many who depicted her in different media were her
other close life-long friend, Louise Abbéma, and also Gustave Doré, Toulouse-Lautrec, Bastien-
Lepage, Alfred Stevens, Lalique, and, just about the same time as she was appearing in Izeyl ,
Gérôme made a striking bust of her as the embodiment of tragedy and comedy (fig. 27). In this
painting of Bernhardt as Izeyl, Clairin has put Sarah’s face exactly in the center of the
composition, so that she dominates the entire richly contrived setting. And it is her eyes which
rivet the viewer. This but confirms the observation of a contemporary biographer who wrote,
“That which gave to Sarah’s face its unique and fascinating character are her eyes – these, her long,
strange, superb eyes of which the pupils seemed to change their color with variations of light, as if
to accent the changes in her physiognomy; they seemed like old gold when the artist was
dreaming; or dark blue when smiling; and like light green when anger contracted her brow.”41