[accessibleimage] Fingers Taking the Place of Eyes in Fine Artistic Work.

A Blind Sculptor.

Fingers Taking the Place of Eyes in Fine Artistic Work.

THE NEW YORK TIMES, May 30, 1879, p. 3

From the Continental Gazette, May 15.

Much might be written about the difficulties with which the blind have to
contend. When they devote themselves to music, piano forte tuning, or
ordinary hand labor, it is easy to understand that they may attain to a
certain amount of proficiency. But when the question of art is concerned the
want of sight would appear to be an almost insurmountable obstacle to
success, rarely to be overcome except by the inspirations of genius.

M. Louis Vidal, the blind sculptor to whom we allude, was born at Nismes in
1831, and when a young man came to Paris, where he commenced his artistic
studies under the direction of MM. Burye and Rouillard. He was then, and has
ever since been, a true lover of art in every sense; but at the very early
age of 21 he was quite suddenly attacked with paralysis of the eyes, and
became completely blind. Having cultivated up to that time the excellent
notions he had received from such men of talent as Barye, Pradier, and
others, he did not allow the great calamity which had befallen him to turn
him from the career he had chosen, and he determined that his fingers should
replace his eyes in the execution of his artistic conceptions. In the course
of time his sense of feeling acquired an increase of power to such an extent
as almost to compensate for the loss of sight, and it was by the careful
manipulation of living subjects and of the works his colleagues kindly
placed at his disposal that he charged his memory with the forms and
outlines which his fineness of touch enabled him to reproduce at first in
the plastic clay and afterward in the block of marble.

The writer of this notice well remembers poor Vidal from 1855 to 1865.
During that time the blind sculptor used frequently to walk in the beautiful
gardens of the Luxembourg Palace, not then disfigured by intersections; and
he walked with such assurance that persons who did not know him would never
have supposed that he was blind. When his promenade was finished, he was in
the habit of going to the Café du Theatre du Luxembourg, which he entered
with as much confidence as any other person, to sit down quite calmly to
coffee and a game of dominoes, that he won more often than he lost. Wen once
he had felt the dots in the dominoes he knew how to play, and never made a
mistake. He has never quitted the neighborhood of the Luxembourg, where he
still lives in the Rue Denfert-Rochereau.

Unlike many of his blind predecessors, Vidal has produced several original
creations. He has exhibited for more than 20 years in succession, and
received a medal in 1861. Lions, panthers, dying stags, goats, cows, horses,
asses, tigers, bulls, and dogs are his subjects of predilection. Many of his
works, though produced slowly, have been purchased by the State on account
of their real merit, and the Empress Eugenie made the acquisition of one of
his productions during the reign of the late Emperor Napoleon III.

Vidal works at any hour'of the day or night, but prefers night time on
account of being able to work alone and in silence. He has been known to
invite a friend to his humble studio after nightfall, and to forget that his
invite was not blind and could not see in the dark. When reminded of the
fact, he would jocularly simulate great haste, go to the mantelpiece for
matches, and light a wax-candle without difficulty, as he would also a
cigar.  M. Vidal never says, "I feel," or "I touch," but "I see," and he is
terribly averse to being pitied for his calamity, of which he does not even
like to be reminded. He is an art critic, and may be seen at all the
exhibitions manipulating the pieces of sculpture in the minutest manner
previous to passing his opinion upon them, which he generally does most
judiciously and without any prejudice. His own love of art is so rooted In
himself that he is delighted when he encounters a work of merit which he can
cordially praise. Although only 48 years of age, he has already produced
enough to insure his reputation as a man of genius, and to give birth to the
regret on the part of his admirers that he lost the inestimable blessing of
sight, which might have enabled him to arrive at the very pinnacle of
sculptural art.

At the Paris Salon of 1879, just opened, M. Vidal has two exhibits:  No.
5409 in the official catalogue, a "Gazelle d'Algers," belonging to the
dowager Baroness de Rothschild, and No. 5,410, a "Tigre de Java," which is a
decorative piece of sculpture admirably executed.

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