Sweet Briar College JYF in Paris Alumni Magazine - December 2018

Memories of Maurice Sérullaz—
“Life Lessons”
We remember some of our teachers,
not so much for specific bits
of information we learned in their
class but for principles we find useful
throughout our life. Monsieur Sérullaz
is one of those teachers I have never
forgotten.
One morning, we came upon some
students who had set up their easels
in front of one of the paintings. Each
was painting a reproduction of the
masterpiece hanging before them.
When I asked M. Sérullaz who they
were, he explained that these were
art students who were learning to
paint by a time-honored tradition the
French believe is the key to success in
any field: The first step is to learn from
the best. French art students were required
to copy a great work of art using
similar oils, mixtures (such as charcoal)
and brushes. “Only by learning
from a master can one strike out on
his own with his own style and technique.…Then,
If you wish to become
a Jackson Pollock and throw buckets
of paint on a canvas and call it art,
you are free to express yourself as you
like,” he said unenthusiastically. When
we visited the Musée d’Art Moderne
the last week of school to familiarize
ourselves with contemporary art, one
of my classmates pointed to an abstract
painting and asked M. Sérullaz
what he personally thought of it. With
Gallic disdain he replied, “It is nothing
more than beautiful wallpaper.”
I unwittingly applied this wisdom
on my final exam. M. Sérullaz asked
me to critique Van Gogh’s l’Église
d’Auvers-sur-Oise. Nervously searching
for an answer I remembered that two
of his favorite descriptive words were
luminosité and juxtaposition. I began my
critique with “cette peinture a une certaine
luminosité” followed by “la juxtaposition
des divers éléments est vraiment remarquable.”
I still remember his smile. He
knew that I had learned from the best.
Joe Carroll
University of Virginia
I still see him impeccably dressed,
with ramrod posture, and brisk movements.
Guiding his plodding battalion
of JYFs, he seemed to me to exude
a degree of pride as he took charge
of our group each time. We followed
20
M. Sérullaz’ treasured inscription to Joe Carroll
in his book
this energetic man, getting as close
as possible to him, as he revealed the
secrets of each impressionist work.
There was a hierarchy in the group,
with the more interested students
standing closer to Professor Sérullaz,
and those who were perhaps dehydrated
or with sore feet, falling toward
the back until they recovered.
During one afternoon slide session,
which I remember well, the projector
worker, dressed in his blue lab coat,
mistakenly placed a slide upside
down. A penetrating Non came rapidly
from our professor. This was quickly
followed by the slide upright but now
reversed right-to-left, again followed
by the same Non. The following trials
(I don’t remember how many) resulted
in another, and another mal-position,
again with a jarring Non following
each. I tried to see if the worker was in
tears, but it was too dark. Finally, the
slide somehow was placed correctly,
the session continued, and we were all
certainly awake by this time.
Did we realize how lucky we were
to be taking his course? Over our year
abroad, I woke to a world of remarkable
artistic sensibility, having seen
many of its finest examples, which
were presented in great depth by a
generous and highly accomplished
scholar. I treasure the gift from Maurice
Sérullaz to me, and to many of
us, that our appreciation and insight
might be able to grow over the years.
James (Jay) Lee
Yale University
I recall the early morning routine of
shivering outside the basement service
entrance to the Louvre a couple
of times a week, waiting to be admitted
to climb the staff stairs to access
our meetings with Professor Sérullaz in
the museum galleries before the Louvre
opened to the public.
His intimacy with the paintings was
a revelation, a permission, an obligation.
His insights were transformative
for me and opened windows in my
mind. Here is one example that is
on-going. Looking at a Cezanne still
life he said:
“Ce n’est pas une nature morte.
C’est, comme vous dites en anglais,
un “steel lyyyfe.”
And he went on to develop our
understanding of the pulsating inter-relationships
of forms, colors, lines,
volumes of mass and air, “la vie des
formes,”if you will.
I got it. I get it still. It was a lasting
gift.
Alan Weinstein
Princeton University
M. Sérullaz’ course changed the
direction of my life, and led me from
teaching French literature to being a
painter for the past 20 years.
www.wendyst.com. I, too, have a copy
of his book on French impressionists,
which he personally inscribed.
JYF alums may be interested to
know that the Sérullaz name is still
appearing in the New York art world.
In conjunction with the Delacroix exhibition,
now at the Met, his widow,
Arlette Sérullaz, has edited a catalog
for a current show of his works at the
Jill Newhouse Gallery in NYC. Here
is a link to a video made by Mme.
Sérullaz https://www.youtube.com/
watch?v=JqdDDxNHUCs. Her 114-
page catalog is on the web at https://
jngpublications.cld.bz/Delacroix-2018.
Heather (Holiber) Gerson
Brandeis University
I have vivid recollections of our
group trooping around the Louvre
and Jeu de Paume with our brilliant,
handsome, remarkable teacher. While
so many memories vanish from elderly
cluttered brains, those of art history
and appreciation with M. Sérullaz remain
clear and present. M. Sérullaz’