Meanwhile, people will wonder why Jean Colin’s impressionist masterpieces have remained unknown until now, about a hundred years after the facts. The answers are as simple as they are unreal. Broadly speaking, the long and the short of it is that Colin chiefly painted for the general public and that later nobody ever recorded and professionally defended his complete oeuvre. Rik Wouters had his passionate Nel, who – in spite of the fact that after his death she remarried twice – kept on defending Rik’s artistic legacy with heart and soul. Among other factors, we owe it to her enthusiasm that today Rik is one of the Belgian public’s favourites. At the time, a gallery owner or auction house would often organise one or several catalogued studio sales following the artist’s death. That had, for example, been the case with Colin’s teacher Isidore Verheyden and a number of great international masters, such as Edgar Degas. That way, one gets a posthumous picture of the oeuvre, while the unsold or consciously withheld art works will circulate in the end. Thus, creations for which the time was not yet ripe or which had not been popular with certain sections of the artist’s clientele get a second life. In the case of Jean Colin’s estate, things took a wholly different turn. After the death of his wife Hortensia in 1962 – Jean had predeceased her by about six months –, the youngest descendant of the Colin family was invited to verify matters. This was Florent Lebrun (father of Huguette and Nicole), who was married to Colin’s niece Susanne. At the time, the unsurpassed series of extraor- dinary beach scenes – or his ‘family album’ – and numerous top class impressionistic works mainly featuring Hortensia were among the unsold works and other paintings stored in Colin’s living quarters and studio. ‘One needs to learn how to look at art’, and this impressionistic collection for advanced art lovers was clearly not to father Lebrun’s taste. ‘The place is full of unfinished paint- ings,’ he is supposed to have said. ‘The cost of moving them will far exceed their value. And besides, where should all these paintings go?’ This was indeed about a collection fit for a museum, for to the uninitiated the casual brushstrokes and the seemingly careless realisation, typical of Impres- sionism, create the impression that they are unfinished paintings. Anyway, Florent Lebrun would not empty the studio and he let the policemen who had accompanied the locksmith, choose a few paintings for free, by way of presents. He also allowed local residents to carry off a ‘small work of art’. Florent Lebrun himself did not take one painting or object – if only as a souvenir – home with him. So, shortly after his death, there was still no interest in Colin’s impressionistic oeuvre; indeed, it was hardly possible to give it away for free. We already know that Colin never exhibited his series of exceptional beach scenes – he had ‘hidden’ them in his studio himself –, but a number of other, well-reasoned impressionistic paintings had been exhibited several times. Thus, thousands of visi- tors had had the opportunity to acquire such works, but apparently nobody wanted them. We are talking about almost all the paintings included in this volume – with the exception of the few that are housed in museums –, for these were still in Colin’s studio after his death. After all, to his pa- trons these impressionistic canvases had always seemed strange creations among his well-known realistic oeuvre. For instance, in April 1962, a few months after Jean’s death, Hortensia put a large series of twenty-four works up for sale at the Anderlecht Royal Art Society’s Salon de printemps [Spring salon]. Again, this is about a catalogue without illustrations and dimensions mentioned, but with selling prices added. Although this information is limited, we may deduce the subject from the titles and because we know which subjects Colin approached impressionistically during a certain period, we may state with certainty that it included a number of his masterpieces. For example: L’Heure du thé [Tea-time] at 12,500 Belgian francs (the currency in Belgium at the time) (cat. 2), La Lecture [The reading] at 14,000 Belgian francs (cat. 3), Printemps [Spring] at 30,000 Belgian francs (cat. 6), Ballerine [Ballerina] at 6,500 Belgian francs (cat. 10), Nu [Nude] at 7,000 Belgian francs (cat. 20) and Lecture au jardin [Reading in the garden] at 9,000 Belgian francs (cat. 24). The exhibition mentioned above also included four realistic pictures of Roma to be admired (cat. 17, 21, 22 and 23). Should you wish to get acquainted with that extensive part of Colin’s oeuvre, numerous images can be found on the internet. The only painting from that exhibition marked as ‘sold’ is catalogue number 17, Tête de Romanichel, which was translated as ‘Young Gypsy’, at 4,500 Belgian francs. All other canvases were returned to the studio. It is all the more remarkable that not a single impressionistic work was sold on that occasion, because shortly after an artist’s death there is usually a run on their best oeuvre. However, as we already noted, Colin was mainly known among the general public for his more realistic portraits and scenes, which to them were his absolute masterpieces. Tastes differ. After Colin’s own family had taken no steps towards clearing the studio, his wife Hortensia’s relatives came to take stock. Maurits Rawoens, who was married to Hortensia’s niece Leonie, took a real interest in what looked like ‘Ali Baba’s cave’. The whole of the estate was cleared on his initiative and under his direction. Beside himself and a few accomplices, his wife Leonie and his nephews Lucien and Jozef were also present. The latter two have testified about these specific days. The stocktaking reportedly focused on some three hundred framed paintings; it did not include unframed canvases, sketches, engravings, watercolours, charcoal drawings and the like. Furthermore, there were a number of sculptures by other artists – including Georges Minne 34 –, a collection of jewellery and valuables, precious decorative objects and antique furniture. It took several lorries to take away the contents of the studio. ‘An estate fit for a museum,’ I was told. However, no inventory was made, it seemed to be an enormous chaos. Maurits sold a part of the collection on the spot, at take-away prices, in order to cut transport costs. ‘Art by the kilogram.’ What was not sold there for almost next to nothing, Maurits moved to Ghent, where he lived. Next, his three children Achiel, Marcella and Ginette, were allowed to take their pick of the works from Uncle Jean’s collection for free. Other members of the extended family were allowed to acquire works from the estate of Aunt Hortensia and Uncle Jean at ‘familial’ prices, depending on size. ‘Art per square metre.’ In addition, paintings were also sold to third parties, cash down. In spite of the low selling prices, the story goes that one year after the clearance Maurits used the total proceeds to buy a house. 34 Georges Minne (1866-1941), Flemish sculptor, painter and draughtsman. He had also followed Charles Van der Stappen’s lessons at the Brussels Académie Royale des Beaux-Arts [Royal Academy of Fine Arts]. Minne worked in a symbolist style, enjoying – along with Fernand Khnopff and others – international recognition in symbolist and art nouveau circles during his lifetime. During the preparatory work on this book, I visited dozens of the descendants in Hortensia Martens’ extended family circle. They keep Jean Colin’s works because of their emotional value, mainly those which recognisably depict their great-aunt Hortensia. For most of them, the art-historical value is not important. After all those years, many of them still described the strongly impressionistic works of their great-uncle as ‘unfinished paintings’, ‘designs’ or ‘sketches’. ‘I have another Colin upstairs in the bedroom,’ somebody told me after she had shown me a dozen or so realistic Roma portraits, ‘but that will probably not be of any interest to you. It is only a sketch, a painting that Uncle Jean was unable to finish.’ The masterpiece in question has – to the owner's surprise – been included in this book, but out of respect I will not refer to the illustration. There is certainly nothing wrong with people rating an artwork by its emotional value alone, on the contrary, it does them credit. Nevertheless, I ought to explain a few things, if we are to understand why the masterly part of Colin’s oeuvre – or at least the way in which it appeals to us – has been virtually unknown until now. For instance, at another address a masterpiece – also included in this book – was found languishing in a workshop, covered with rubble, between the armrests of dilapidated chairs. ‘Is that a Colin?’ I asked after the top of a gilded frame had drawn my attention. ‘No, it’s not,’ the host replied. ‘Can I just take a look?’ ‘Go ahead.’ To our mutual surprise, I pulled a masterly impressio- nistic beach scene from under the debris. ‘Another Colin after all!’ the host exclaimed. And – believe it or not – at various addresses I had to find out that such top-class works from the impressionistic series in Colin’s ‘family album’ had been given away – again, as presents –, in one case even as a tip for a service rendered, because the people had no aesthetic taste for such works, which they believed did not depict their Aunt at all. However, Hortensia was often part of such scenes (#078: first on the left, #074: first on the right, #080: first on the left, etc.), but, due to the casual brushstrokes and the seemingly careless execution, she was unrecognisable to the uninitiated. The other figures featured in the beach scenes were – as was mentioned – only family members from Colin’s side, who were unknown to the descendants of the extended family anyway. Over the years, several of the in-laws who were related by marriage or their heirs also sold a number of works privately. One will understand that, once the experienced buyers – collectors, art dealers and gallery owners – had made their choice, the cream had been skimmed and from that moment on the exceptional impressionistic works were no longer part of these collections. Within art societies the adage that ‘knowledge is power’ also holds good. Thus, almost every member of the extended family confirmed they had been in possession of one or several beach scenes, as large numbers of these were present in Colin’s studio, but with the exception of Achiel no one still possesses any of these gems. To my knowledge, the only collection of these descendants that is still intact is that of Achiel Rawoens, ‘the last witness’, for Achiel cherishes each memory of his great-uncle and great-aunt as a treasure. Many years after the deaths of Jean Colin and his wife, Nicole married the art lover Bernard Évrard. The latter soon showed an interest in her great-uncle’s legacy. At that moment, Nicole owned only two of Colin’s creations, both of them portraits of herself. However, it did not take long for Bernard and Nicole to become zealous collectors of Colin’s work. As such, they managed to build up a sizeable collection and collect a large number of relevant authentic documents, with at the back of their mind the intention – in accordance with Achiel’s goal in life – of wresting Nicole’s great-uncle from oblivion, which has led to this publication. Obviously, this ‘tribute to Jean Colin’ is not an annotated catalogue, nor is it a complete inventory of his impressionistic legacy. First and foremost, the selection included here concerns paintings that are at present in the possession of both families, and in addition a few canvases from museums and some from private collections, insofar as we have been able to trace them. All over the world, there must be dozens – if not hundreds – of Colin’s important impressionistic works left to be discovered, proud masterpieces in private collections. We will be happy to add these to the archive of ‘The Friends of Jean Colin’ at a later stage. It is unimaginable that a laureate artist such as Jean Colin, who was so extraordinarily successful during his lifetime, has nevertheless fallen into oblivion. Therefore, it seemed reasonable that we should make this specifically Belgian and Brussels patrimony known to posterity and safeguard it for the future. And for the same reason, it seemed no more than appropriate to put a stop to this oblivion ● Copywright (C) Marc Pairon opus citat

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