CABLE STREET (formerly WITTY PARTITION)

  • ABOUT
    • About Us
  • CONTACT
    • Contact
    • Submissions
  • NEWS
    • News
    • LINKS
  • ISSUE 18: Cable St.
    • Table of Contents
    • A WORD
    • InSight Visitor
    • COLLOQUY >
      • Interview: Nandana Dev Sen
      • Poems: Nabaneeta Dev Sen
      • Read, See, Hear More
    • POETRY >
      • Trish Crapo
      • Kelly Egan
      • Michael Franco
    • TRANSLATION >
      • INTRODUCTION: Babel
      • Translation-and-Tradition
    • DRUMMINGS >
      • Djembe
    • Christina Lago
    • Editors' Pocket Anthology >
      • Our Reflections
    • Insight2 Seasonal
    • Troublemaker
    • MEMOIR-18
    • PORTFOLIO >
      • Nuran Akkaya
    • Ngugi
    • Vintage Amphora
    • ¡VIVA! >
      • Peter Brook
      • A FLOCK
    • SOUNDINGS >
      • Jimi Zhivago
    • REMARKABLE READS >
      • Paul Mugur
      • Brandon Rushton
      • Marcela Sulak
    • COLOPHON
    • Contributors18
  • ISSUE 17
    • Table of Contents
    • A WORD17
    • InSight 1
    • Flash Pocket >
      • Flash fiction intro
      • Susanna Drbal
      • Melanie Bush
      • Matt Gordon
    • POETRY >
      • G. Greene
      • Norman Fischer
      • David Robertson
      • Lisa Bourbeau
    • Essays >
      • THE BARD-
      • LORCA IN CUBA
    • Ad Astra >
      • Beatrix Gates
    • Romanian Pocket >
      • Seven Romanians
    • URBAN LEGENDS >
      • Randolph Petsche
    • CANONIZATION >
      • Steve Cannon
    • Soundings >
      • Cheb Khaled
    • MEMOIR-17
    • PORTFOLIO >
      • Couteau and David
    • Ngugi
    • Vintage InSight
    • REMARKABLE READS >
      • NOSTALGIA
      • ROTURA
      • Tiller of Waters
      • Sentsov
    • SUMMER READS >
      • Ninso John High
      • Rimbaud
      • Kaminsky
    • COLOPHON
    • Contributors17
  • Back Issues
  • EXTRA!
  • ABOUT
    • About Us
  • CONTACT
    • Contact
    • Submissions
  • NEWS
    • News
    • LINKS
  • ISSUE 18: Cable St.
    • Table of Contents
    • A WORD
    • InSight Visitor
    • COLLOQUY >
      • Interview: Nandana Dev Sen
      • Poems: Nabaneeta Dev Sen
      • Read, See, Hear More
    • POETRY >
      • Trish Crapo
      • Kelly Egan
      • Michael Franco
    • TRANSLATION >
      • INTRODUCTION: Babel
      • Translation-and-Tradition
    • DRUMMINGS >
      • Djembe
    • Christina Lago
    • Editors' Pocket Anthology >
      • Our Reflections
    • Insight2 Seasonal
    • Troublemaker
    • MEMOIR-18
    • PORTFOLIO >
      • Nuran Akkaya
    • Ngugi
    • Vintage Amphora
    • ¡VIVA! >
      • Peter Brook
      • A FLOCK
    • SOUNDINGS >
      • Jimi Zhivago
    • REMARKABLE READS >
      • Paul Mugur
      • Brandon Rushton
      • Marcela Sulak
    • COLOPHON
    • Contributors18
  • ISSUE 17
    • Table of Contents
    • A WORD17
    • InSight 1
    • Flash Pocket >
      • Flash fiction intro
      • Susanna Drbal
      • Melanie Bush
      • Matt Gordon
    • POETRY >
      • G. Greene
      • Norman Fischer
      • David Robertson
      • Lisa Bourbeau
    • Essays >
      • THE BARD-
      • LORCA IN CUBA
    • Ad Astra >
      • Beatrix Gates
    • Romanian Pocket >
      • Seven Romanians
    • URBAN LEGENDS >
      • Randolph Petsche
    • CANONIZATION >
      • Steve Cannon
    • Soundings >
      • Cheb Khaled
    • MEMOIR-17
    • PORTFOLIO >
      • Couteau and David
    • Ngugi
    • Vintage InSight
    • REMARKABLE READS >
      • NOSTALGIA
      • ROTURA
      • Tiller of Waters
      • Sentsov
    • SUMMER READS >
      • Ninso John High
      • Rimbaud
      • Kaminsky
    • COLOPHON
    • Contributors17
  • Back Issues
  • EXTRA!

3. A Shoulder to Lean on

In 1960, Jean‐Paul Crespelle (1910—1994), a French journalist who authored books about the Belle Époque artists of Montmartre and Montparnasse, published Modigliani: Les femmes, les amis, l’oeuvre…The title of Crespelle’s fourth chapter, “Un amateur aveugle” (A Blind Amateur), is an homage to Angély, about whom he writes…
Léon Angély, called “Father Léon,” was a little old white‐haired man whose figure was familiar to the people of the Butte. A retired clerk, he lived in a tiny apartment on rue Gabrielle filled with bric‐a‐brac. He was a kind of passionate second‐hand “Cousin Pons,” who spent most of his retirement buying paintings from the artists he met in the bistros around Place du Tertre. His taste was surprisingly good, but he never offered more than ten francs for a painting. This passion was not a disinterested one. Father Léon, not without reason, had told himself that among the rapins of Montmartre there would be some who would achieve success. So one day he might find himself commanding a collection that would be worth a fortune. His plan might have worked if he hadn’t lost his sight and, little by little, had gone blind. Despite this handicap, he refused to give in to bad luck and continued to buy paintings.
Picture

Sylvette David. Le Père Angély and Joséphine Visit the Bust of Sylvette. Devon, England. December 2021. Watercolor and India ink on Langton watercolor paper, 8.25 x 6.75 inches.

Leaning on the shoulder of a young girl who served as his guide, he went to the studios and had the paintings described to him. From what the little one told him, he made his choice, relying on his flair. It is remarkable that the rapins presented him only with works of quality; they made it a point of honor not to give him mere daubs.
 
In the end Father Léon was punished for his venal love of art. As the war depleted his resources, he was forced to sell his Modiglianis and Utrillos. He had nothing left when he died: it was in 1921, just when the popularity of the artists he had discovered began to soar. A few more years and Father Léon would have died a millionaire!...(Crespelle 1960)

The thematic structuring of this entry as well as Crespelle’s reference to “Cousin Pons” makes it clear that he’s also relying on the urtext of [Douglas’s] Modigliani biography, Artist Quarter… But he adds a tantalizing new ingredient: une fillette (a little girl). From what source does he draw this central figure? For the time being, we can only guess.
Picture
Next