Delacroix In the course of our chit-chat, Geffroy mentioned the decline in the reputation of Delacroix, saying: "Just because he saw with different eyes puts him outside the academic philosophy; actually I don't attach much importance to this because I believe his historical place is secure; that no one can take this away from him. These damn cycles of appreciation make very little sense; good art is good art no matter how you look at it; the trouble with the present scene is that the artists who run the Academie are almost totally blind to any form of expression different than their own: a concept that has all sorts of dangerous implications. Baudelaire, who was unusually sensitive to the artistic variations, said he could not understand why there was such a fuss about style, which he considered incidental to the underlying poetry, that, in his words: 'Style is merely the means to an end: it is not the end itself; nor should any special importance be attached to it.' Delacroix," Geffroy continued, "was far above this kind of prattling about classicism, the antique, etc, doing what he did superbly: saying all he could say through his heart and deepest emotions."

I agreed: "He is a man for all time; his achievement lies beyond the comprehension of the fools who run the Ecole des Beaux-Arts; he belongs with the greatest of French painters!" When Geffroy and I discussed contemporary art we were not always in agreement, but I was careful to maintain a respectful attitude; it went along like this, relatively smoothly, until Geffroy said that teaching methods as practiced by the academicians, in his estimate, were not destructive to the individuality of the students, pointing out that some of the dissidents had been subjected to it without apparent harm. I instantly denied the validity of the statement, losing my composure, throwing my hands up in the air in exasperation. "The teaching," I shouted angrily, "is tied to a rotten and corrupt system; freedom of expression is a myth perpetuated by bigoted theorists who assign the truth only to themselves. I am not prepared," I said to Geffroy, my voice tense with anger, "to use the word unprincipled to describe these people, but as an expert on such matters, you can draw your own conclusion. Let me say to you that the system of art as we know it today, whether you discuss teaching or those who are in it to profit from the monopoly, is on precarious ground. No one, I repeat that, no one, not even the State, can protect a bad idea which has extended beyond its time!" Aroused by my own words, I added: "You will forgive me, Geffroy, if I frankly tell you that critics don't know the first thing about painting and painters: art is not a commodity that can be analyzed for its ups and downs like the stock market."

from Pour Moi, Cezanne

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