There is only one contemporary 'painter of women' from life (which rules out van Dongen), the Italian Modigliani; a painter of nudes who would have been even less acceptable than Renoir if he had been painting at the time when, as well as the Livre d'Or des AF, the Nu au Salon was published.

Modigliani, whose origins were quite bourgeois, has been exhibiting between the Fauves and the Cubists for more than ten years. But if I had to name a famous successor to Renoir, I'd say that, true to Cezanne's example, Modigliani would be hard to beat.

Modigliani is our only painter of nudes.... A police inspector, or maybe an inspector from the Beaux Arts, once had Modigliani's contributions taken down in I don't remember which gallery. And yet what spiritually glows forth from so much beautiful, rich, plump material, slimmed down by the controlled magnificence that the artist has striven hard to refine, he who admired the naivety and the resourcefulness of the Italian artisan painters .... (1920)

From: Ambrogio Cerom, Tout 1'ceuvre peint de Modigliani, p. 10f


Having just married the young Renee-jean, Kisling invited the wedding guests to his studio. Max Jacob was also there and delighted his friends with one of his incomparable impersonations. Modigliani, who was already drunk long before the civil marriage ceremony, interrupted him several times and, with a subservience which was highly unusual coming from him, begged to take part in the performance: 'Max, please can I play Dante? I know Dante so well.... No one knows Dante as well as I do. Please, Max, may I?'

In place of Max, who would no doubt have given in to him, the assembled throng answered 'No!' Whenever Max Jacob performed it made us all laugh, whereas Modigliani would have spoiled everything. So did he capitulate? No way! When the guests asked Max Jacob to play Shakespeare, Modigliani could no longer restrain himself We were also all in agreement and let him have his way. 'Max,' the brilliant drunkard said, 'let me play the ghost!' How could anyone refuse this man, who so rarely pleaded for anything?

The drunken Modigliani was brilliant. He rushed into the small room adjoining the studio, the 'bridal suite'. He came out again swathed in classic sartorial fashion in a white sheet. At the door he started playing the part of the ghost of Hamlet's father:
-'God or man, which art thou?'-with such panache that Max Jacob, at times an outstanding actor, at once ceased his impressions. He clearly realized that he could not outshine Modigliani.

Now Modigliani was free to shout, now he alone dominated the stage, playing to an elite audience. Straight away our Amedeo instinctively found the right words. At first they seemed meaningless, but by pronouncing or screaming them in his own unique way he made them serve his purpose, namely to communicate to the spectators that a dead being can continue to plague the living from beyond the grave, and also to astound and scare diem. And so suddenly he began yelling-I don't think you hear this call nowadays but at the time you heard it every day in the streets of Paris-'Barrels, barrels, have you any barrels?'

This was so beautiful, so perfect that no one laughed immediately.

'Barrels! Barrels!...' A voice from beyond the grave, in the guise of a cooper! The accursed ghost, condemned for all eternity to roll before him his cask full of hideous memories, full of sin, full of pangs of conscience and tears! The brand-new Madame Kisling, nee Renee-Jean, broke this awe inspiring spell with the pained scream of a young bride and dutiful housewife: 'My bridal linen!'

The ghost of Modigliani was already on the stairs. On the floor below he knocked at the door of Ernest de Charnaillard still crying: 'Barrels, barrels, have you any barrels?'We only caught up with him when he reached the front door. We recovered the bride's linen, but Modigliani disappeared muttering jumbled verses to himself.

From: Giovanni Scheiwiller, Amedeo Modigliani-Selbstzeugnisse, Photos, Zeicbnungen, p. 60f