In 1925 the art critic André Warnod, defending artists at the Salon des Indépendants marginalised because they were foreign, wrote in Comœdia: “Can we regard as unwanted an artist for whom Paris is the Promised Land, the hallowed ground of painters and sculptors?” In his article criticising racism in the French art world Warnod coined the expression “School of Paris”. Since, this has come to denote less a movement than the generation of painters and sculptors of all nationalities drawn to Paris from the turn of the 20th century.
Many of these men and women were Jewish artists who had arrived in Paris before 1914 from European cities and provincial Jewish towns in the Russian Empire: Germans like Lou Albert-Lasard and Rudolf Levy, Bulgarians like Jules Pascin, Hungarians like Béla Czóbel and Alfred Reth, Poles like Mela Muter, Simon Mondzain and Marek Szwarc, Russians like Marc Chagall, Sonia Delaunay, Adolphe Feder, Michel Kikoine, Jacques Lipchitz, Mane-Katz, Chana Orloff, Chaim Soutine and Ossip Zadkine, Czechs like Georges Kars and Italians like Amedeo Modigliani.
They came in search of emancipation and a great many were eastern European Jews fleeing discrimination and poverty. Fascinated by republican France, they had been familiarised with the 19th-century French masters and the Impressionists by their teachers in Krakow and Munich. Often denied access to artistic training by education quotas in the Russian Empire, they came to Paris to come to grips with modernism and freely become creators in their own right.
Their sheer number gave rise to a belief in the existence of a “Jewish School” and fuelled the virulent anti-Semitism in the 1920s. Beyond their common desire to free themselves from the constraints of Jewish life, pursue their art and achieve a degree of recognition, all shared a rejection of systems and a will to take the individual path that their newly acquired status could at last permit. In fact, they were never a “school” as such, but artists linked by the history and ideals they shared and, for some, their tragic destiny.