Hungry Heart

While working in his Paris studio in 1924, Chaim Soutine hung an actual side of beef as a model for his Carcass of Beef (above, from 1924). Soutine, who died on August 9, 1943, grew up in such poverty in his small Jewish town in Lithuania that we only know he was born sometime in 1894. Accustomed to hunger since childhood, Soutine saw the beef as a beautiful still life rather than a meal. Despite the protests of neighbors, who could smell the rotting meat, Soutine continued to paint, accustomed to hatred directed at him since his earliest years. His devoutly Jewish community condemned any form of art. Soutine actually received beatings at the hands of siblings and neighbors when he tried to draw. When one neighbor family beat Soutine for trying to draw their father, Soutine’s mother sued them for damages. Fittingly, Soutine used the money awarded to enter art school in 1909. After a year of scraping together enough cash to buy a fourth-class ticket, Soutine boarded a train to Paris and a life of more poverty and struggle, but freedom, finally, to pursue his art.

Once in Paris, Soutine soon united with equally poor, equally creative artists such as Amedeo Modigliani, Jacques Lipschitz, Marc Chagall, and Fernand Leger. Soutine and Modigliani shared rooms until Modigliani’s death in 1920, which wounded Soutine deeply. Soutine’s portraits, such as Pastry Cook with Red Handkerchief (above, from 1922-1923), show Modigliani’s influence in how they distort the human figure, but add a whole new level of violence beyond Modigliani’s contortions. Unable to hire models, Soutine painted anyone who would sit for him, including the simple waiters and cooks who lived and worked in his neighborhood. In 1923, Soutine’s ship finally came in in the person of Dr. Albert C. Barnes, who purchased sixty of Soutine’s paintings for his collection that would eventually become the Barnes Foundation. Never again would Soutine need to worry for money.

But new worries came in the form of anti-Semitism and the Fascist Nazi regime when they invaded France during World War II. When the Germans bombed Paris during World War I, Soutine fled to southern France and painted such Van Gogh-inspired, pseudo-Cubist works as Céret Landscape (above, from 1919). Unfortunately, nowhere in France could Soutine find safety from the Nazis. Soutine often slept in forests during rainstorms to elude capture, which exacerbated the stomach ailments he faced his entire life. Just two weeks before the liberation of France by the allies in 1944, Chaim Soutine died during a long-overdue operation on a massive stomach ulcer. From inconceivably humble beginnings, Soutine rose to the heights of the art world, painting an oeuvre that influenced later artists such as Francis Bacon and Lucian Freud and perhaps even the Abstract Expressionists. Ignoring the hunger in his belly, Soutine never failed to feed the hunger in his heart to create images reflecting his inner turmoil.

With Fearless and Eager Eyes

On August 30, 1891, in tiny Druskininkai in Lithuania, still under the rule of the Russian Tsars, Jacques Lipchitz was born. Lipchitz created some of the most beautiful Cubist sculptures ever made. Many of Lipchitz’s works grace the Philadelphia region, including The Spirit of Enterprise (above), which stands on the banks of the Schuylkill River along Kelly Drive, near Boathouse Row. At the base of the sculpture, the following quote from Theodore Roosevelt appears: “Our nation glorious in youth and strength looks into the future with fearless and eager eyes as vigorous as a young man to run a race.” From his humble beginnings to his prime in Paris to his American years after World War II, Lipchitz always looked “into the future with fearless and eager eyes” and never gave up his sense of wonder and hope for the world.


Lipchitz flourished among the artists of Montmartre and Montparnasse in the 1910s and 20s, befriending fellow Cubists Pablo Picasso and Juan Gris, among others. In 1922, Dr. Albert C. Barnes visited Lipchitz’s studio and not only bought several works but also commissioned a series of bas-reliefs for The Barnes Foundation. In exchange, Lipchitz introduced Barnes to his friends Chaim Soutine and Amedeo Modigliani. (Modigliani’s portrait of Lipchitz and his wife is above.) Thanks to this introduction, Barnes purchased several works by Soutine and Modigliani, helping bring not only Lipchitz’s stirring Cubist sculpture to America but also the works of these two unique masters.


Lipchitz fled Paris in 1940 with the help of American journalist Varian Fry just before the Nazis invaded. America became Lipchitz’s home for the rest of his life, and Philadelphia captured a special place in his heart. I’ve always loved his The Spirit of Enterprise and Government of the People (which stands in the Municipal Services Building Plaza in Philadelphia, near JFK Boulevard and Broad Street), but my favorite Lipchitz will always be his Prometheus Strangling the Vulture (above), which stands proudly at the top of the PMA’s famous “Rocky Steps.” Lipchitz takes the ancient myth of the vulture endlessly torturing Prometheus and rewrites the ending, allowing Prometheus to gain the upper hand and end his torment. Lipchitz’s sculptures always maintain this wonderful spirit of hope, even in the face of war and oppression, which has made him one of the most popular and accessible of modernist sculptors.

Peace Piece

When sent to England to help negotiate a peace treaty between Spain and Britain in 1629, Peter Paul Rubens painted Minerva Protects Pax from Mars (Allegory of Peace and War) (above) and presented it as a gift to King Charles I of England, hoping that the allegory wouldn’t be lost on him. Both diplomat and artistic genius, Rubens continues to bring peace to countless relationships today through every full-figured woman’s favorite adjective, “Rubenesque.”

Rubens holds the distinction of receiving knighthoods from both King Charles I of England and King Philip IV of Spain for his diplomacy. The charm and elegance found in Rubens paintings must mirror some of his own personal attributes. Friend of Jan Brueghel the Elder and Diego Velazquez and teacher of Anthony van Dyck, Rubens’ personality endeared him to many and amplified his influence within the art world then and since. Rubens’ Raising of the Cross (above) demonstrates the many Michelangelo-esque touches he brought to the Baroque style of religious art. The Renaissance certainly influenced Rubens’ painting, but his heightened drama and swirling action upped the ante of his 16th century predecessors.

One of the most iconic works at the PMA is Rubens’ Prometheus Bound (above). The Jacques Lipchitz Cubist sculpture of Prometheus Strangling the Vulture outside the PMA provides an amusing counterpoint to this classic work inside, with the bravura male torso straight out of classical sculpture coming to life in the futile struggle with the vulture. Rubens’ Prometheus Bound was one of the first paintings I remember seeing as a youngster and thinking of as truly great art, owing perhaps to the monumental size of the canvas and the easily understood narrative. Since those days, I’ve only grown to love it more and more.