Rodin, Ups & Downs
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It was Rilke who introduced me to the Hôtel Biron in 1908. He was also my secretary; our relationship was unusual, sometimes difficult. He wrote some beautiful lines about my art, but I didn’t recognize the great poet’s true worth when he was at my side.
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Antoine Bourdelle was a devoted assistant who worked his way up to become a marble carver in my studio. I was a witness at his wedding, but we grew apart after his divorce in 1910. His passion was different from mine, he was both a sculptor and a poet.
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I was a great admirer of Hugo, whose books were in my library. Once, during a meal in his company, I surreptitiously sketched him from every angle because he wouldn’t pose for his bust! I used the bust later to make his monument.
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Rose was truly heaven sent to be by my side! Dear Rose, my companion from the start… She suffered from my infidelity but I was loyal to her, she was my lifelong partner. I eventually married her in January 1917, just three weeks before her death.
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I used to let my models wander naked around my studio. Seeing them like that made me familiar with their every movement. I particularly remember Adele and Anna, two Italian sisters, a blonde and a brunette, both perfect in totally different ways.
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She joined my studio at the age of 17 as my pupil, assistant and muse – and soon became my mistress. I was drawn to her fiery temperament and outstanding talent. I called on her all the time, consulted her about everything. She was my ferocious friend!
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Camille wrote to me from the Château de l’Islette, asking me to buy her a bathing suit so that she could swim in the river. I loved to join her there, we were so happy in our secret place.
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I was a laborer. The rough hands you see here spoiled the plaster. I kept the habits of a stonemason from my days as an apprentice. I was like the Renaissance artists, who were craftsmen rather than fine gentlemen.
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The city of Calais commissioned me to sculpt the figure of a burgher; I proposed six sculptures. What interested me most was the expression of their suffering. I wanted the figures to impact viewers, to draw them into each personal drama.
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I had no fixed way of working, nature was my only guide. I did what interested me, when it suited me. Art was pleasure: an effort, but not a constraint.
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My statue of The Thinker was placed in the neighborhood where I grew up, in front of the Panthéon, thanks to a subscription organized by the people of Paris. Described by some as a “gorilla” and “an enormous brute,” The Thinker came to be seen as the incarnation of human thought.
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Many of my works were misunderstood, but The Kiss was an immediate success with the public. Yet I intended my art to express the spectrum of emotions, from the heights of ecstasy to the depths of agony.