Mephistopheles: A bronze figure, after the model by Mark Antokolosky (1843-1902), cast by Barbedienne, Paris

reddish brown patina, inscribed and dated 'Antocolsky/ Paris 1883', with impressed foundry mark

Christie's New York, 19 October 2001, lot 169

Excellent condition.
"In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective, qualified opinion. Prospective buyers should also refer to any Important Notices regarding this sale, which are printed in the Sale Catalogue.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF BUSINESS PRINTED IN THE SALE CATALOGUE."

Mark Matveevich Antokolsky rose from poverty to become one of the most important Russian realists of the nineteenth century.  The Tretyakov Gallery alone houses thirty of his works, including the bust of Mephistopheles as well as editions of the full-body version in marble and bronze.  The sculptor conceived the idea of portraying the demon made famous by Goethe’s Faust in 1874, produced the bust in 1877 and finished the full-body sculpture in 1883. The same year it was purchased by the Hermitage, and in 1897 it was moved to the newly-established Russian Museum in St Petersburg.  It represents the devil’s agent as a slender man lost in thought.

Having moved to St Petersburg from his birthplace Vilnius in 1862, Antokolsky spent seven years auditing classes at the Imperial Academy of Arts.  He became friends with the painters Viktor Vasnetsov, Ivan Kramskoi, and Ilya Repin, all of whom would later paint his portrait; he shared an apartment with Repin for two years.  Among his fellow artists Antokolsky discussed his reading, which ranged from Greek philosophy to the works of Darwin.  He was moved by men who sacrificed themselves for their ideas and ideals, sculpting Socrates, Spinoza and Christ.  The celebrated critic Vladimir Stasov championed Antokolsky’s art in critical essays and at public forums.  In a letter to Stasov, dated 10 November 1881, Antokolsky summarised his artistic credo: 'When it comes to art, the truth is the highest principle, but the more truth there is, the stronger the technique must be to capture it' (V. Stasov, ed., Antokolsky: His Creative Life, Letters and Articles, 1905, p. 441).

The sculptor moved to Rome in 1871 and in 1877 to Paris, where he completed Mephistopheles.  He chose to forgo any costume to underscore his subject’s timelessness and universality.  Only the goatee and slightly horned haircut signal the demon’s devilish nature.  His elbows and shoulders are sharp, his fingers long, his facial features lean, his skin taut over bone.  His posture is hunched and its tension is internal, as if the demon were gathering his thoughts and energies without any signs of danger or aggression.

On the day he completed the sculpture Antokolsky wrote to E. G. Mamontova, the wife of arts patron Savva Mamontov, delineating his artistic intentions in detail:  'My Mephistopheles represents the puzzlement, plague and putridity that poisons the air, that gets inside people and ruins them.  Mephistopheles is relentless evil, an evil without end; ruthless, repulsive, nesting in an ill body with a collapsing soul.  He is sick and suffering from having lived through everything, from decay, from an inability to take pleasure in life.  His spirit is lifeless, he is incapable of creation, and yet he cannot hide his envy, pride and weakness.  The warm spring rays of sunlight burn his skin and blind him.  All forms of happiness, be they laughter or the kiss of young lovers, annoy him.  He wants everything around him to be as dark, deathly, empty and lifeless as he is.  To walk in darkness, to dig the ground like a mole, to ruin, to beget suffering, to see blood and tears pouring down—these are the things that calm and settle him, although he never quite takes pleasure in them, so unquenchable is his lust for lifelessness' (ibid., p. 500).