Le souffre-douleur ennemi (The Enemy Scapegoat), Henry de Groux

Exhibition Label:
"Machine in a Void: World War I & the Graphic Arts," Mar-2010, Steve Goddard
In November 1916 the Galerie La Boëtie in Paris exhibited 279 paintings, pastels, drawings, sculptural works, etchings, and lithographs by Belgian artist, Henry de Groux. Included in the exhibition were 20 of the 40 etchings from de Groux's portfolio, The Face of Victory. In his preface to the portfolio, de Groux described the War as an “undeniable and colossal absurdity like a machine functioning in a void,” and an “opulent excess of perfect horror.” This view of horrifying and autonomous war running under its own momentum, beyond human control, recalls the misanthropic reflections of Céline, who served briefly in the War and later wrote, "A war had been switched on between us and the other side, and now it was burning!" For Céline, this incomprehensibility of war was due to humanity's inherent stupidities, while for the Catholic de Groux it had as much to do with loss of faith.

The 38 prints exhibited here are part of a group of 52 working proofs for The Face of Victory in the collection of the Spencer Museum of Art. These include variant states and printings, many with provisional titles scrawled on them. Most of these compositions, some of which are based on photographic reportage appearing in journals such as Le Miroir, were used in the finished portfolio, but not all of them. The Éclipse, for example, had been intended as a cover for the portfolio, but it was censored. The Éclipse shows a dark, skeletal face with Medusa-like, serpentine hair, eclipsing the radiant head of Jesus (who wears the crown of thorns and a rope around his neck), each surrounded with biblical texts. This was presumably the design that was also intended for the exhibition poster, and was censored, with the admonition "there must be no sadness, no ruins ... There must be no horror, no sadness. There must be no terror. But glory, heroic glory or symbols of hope, and of the sacred union."

There had, in fact, been a total eclipse of the sun on August 21, 1914, just as war was breaking out. De Groux turned to the heavens for another group of etchings that did notmake it to his finished portfolio, images of The Comet of War, which no doubt refer to a comet that remained visible throughout the war years. According to Popular Astronomy (no. 24, 1916), which also mentioned the 1914 eclipse:

A comet which will hold the name of “the Comet of War” has been visible the entire year in the sky. Discovered in December 1913 by Delavan at the La Plata Observatory, it is still visible at this time and will be for five years.

Perhaps the most moving assessment of de Groux's wartime art comes from his estranged friend and one-time collaborator, Léon Bloy, who wrote to the artist: "I cannot say in words the tremendous sadness that weighed on me when I looked at your drawings and paintings whose crucifying perspective overwhelmed me. The ruined things and the ruined men, the “descent into the abyss,” as you would call it, the shooting of innocent people and the massacre of captives, the grave-digging prisoners, the processions of the blind, the old people who can no longer cry and who wander amidst the rubble of their homes looking for something they had cherished, and finally, above all the rest, the amazing portrait of the imprisoned German officer who allowed himself to be drawn by you.