Henri Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa French painter, draftsman, lithographer Date of Birth: 24.11.1864 Country: France

1. Biography of Henri Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa
2. In Search of a Suitable Apartment
3. The Life of Henri Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa
4. What the Rain Says. Lithograph, 1895.
5. Portrait of Oscar Wilde, 1895.

Biography of Henri Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa

Henri Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa was a French painter, draughtsman, and lithographer. His mother, Countess Adèle, knew everything about her son. She regretted a hundred times that he was born and that he destroyed himself with a wayward life as soon as he could. On his canvases, people appeared sad and frivolous, dissatisfied with their monotonous existence, yearning for bright days that they would most likely never have. But it was only after receiving a telegram that the countess realized that her unhappy son had been a genius since birth and, despite his deformity, had served beauty and goodness throughout his life.

In Search of a Suitable Apartment

In search of a suitable private apartment, Henri walked the streets and alleys of Paris. He was looking for a house closer to Montmartre, with a good view of the great and perhaps the most beautiful city on earth. Finally, he found such a house. Its landlady turned out to be Madame Lebeau, a middle-aged woman. "I like it here!" Henri declared from the doorstep, as if they had already made a deal. At first, Madame Lebeau was simply scared of his appearance. Not only was this young man of small stature, like a seven-year-old boy, but his face was not desirable either.
"Sir, first tell me who you are..." She hesitated, doubting his words. "Ah, yes!" he exclaimed, realizing he hadn't introduced himself, and laughed heartily, revealing his missing teeth. "I and a few other lunatics believe that I am an artist. And they call me Henri Toulouse."
"Toulouse?" The landlady doubted. "But that's the name of one of our provinces in the south. Are you joking with me, sir?"
"No, no, madam!" Now he was afraid that they wouldn't allow him to live in this house. "Toulouse is actually my last name. I have two more, no, three, but my father forbade me to use them. He doesn't like the paintings I create..."

The Life of Henri Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa

Madame Lebeau had a feeling that this young man, despite his appearance, was kind and decent. "Well, sir, if my price suits you, make yourself at home..."

When introducing himself to the landlady, Henri still concealed something. For example, his noble title. And what noble bloodlines! His full name sounded like this: Henri-Marie Raymond de Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa. If he started listing all his titles, it would take a long time: Marquis, Viscount, Chevalier... But no matter how much Henri hid his origins, Madame Lebeau eventually learned that her tenant was related to almost all the royal houses of Europe! He was born in 1864 in the ancient castle of Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa. He was born beautiful, a well-shaped child. From an early age, his large brown eyes radiated joy and boundless love for people. He was particularly attached to his mother, Countess Adèle. One day, the little boy confessed to her, and she scolded him for it, that he loved her even more than God. He soon preferred drawing to all childhood games. He started with a drawing of his dog, Dana, and then transferred his insatiable passion for drawing to people. He would follow his mother around, begging her to sit in a chair and pose for him. He did it so often and so persistently that Countess Adèle, a gentle and kind woman, but always melancholic for some reason, had to refuse him. "But mommy, I love you so much!" Henri persisted. "And I love drawing so much!"

He was unrelenting until the age of nine. Then a terrible misfortune befell him. He began to suffer from excruciating joint pain in his legs. The most experienced doctors, brought from Paris and other capitals of Europe, could not understand the cause. Following their advice, Countess Adèle took her son to the best resorts in the world. The pain would sometimes subside but then return with renewed force. Henri would sometimes cry out for hours on end. He underwent several surgeries, but none of them helped. Suddenly, as the pain had started, it suddenly disappeared. But another misfortune came: Henri stopped growing. Or rather, his shoulders and arms grew, while his legs and torso remained the same. His appearance changed drastically. His delicate, aristocratic nose turned into a bumpy potato shape. His lower lip sagged. His vision deteriorated so much that the boy had to wear pince-nez...

Count Alphonse de Toulouse-Lautrec rarely saw his son. Sometimes he would go to England for horse races, sail on his yacht, or live a luxurious life in Paris, staying for months in a luxurious hotel room. When he returned to Malromé from distant lands, he saw what had happened to his son and felt deeply offended. How could this dwarf in pince-nez be his heir? And would he continue the thousand-year-old lineage? Never! Count Alphonse de Toulouse-Lautrec quickly left Malromé...

What was the cause of the terrible metamorphosis that happened to Henri? Nothing can be said for certain. It is possible that his parents were the main culprits: they were second cousins. People have long known that such marriages carry many dangers.

There was no hope for Henri's recovery. His life became a heavy ordeal. Only a few of his peers dared to befriend him. However, one girl seemed to go against everyone by meeting Henri. She highly valued his ironic wit, erudition, and above all, his talent. She enjoyed posing for Henri, admired his drawings. One day, Henri, overwhelmed with gratitude, gently touched her hand. The girl recoiled in horror and thereafter began to avoid him.

What was left for Henri? If everyone (except his mother, of course) turned away from him, he had to create his own world and live in it alone among the multitude of people. When he told his mother that he wanted to become an artist, Countess Adèle couldn't believe her ears. How could he work at an easel with his height? Who would agree to pose for him? And, in general, why was it necessary? The Toulouse-Lautrecs were very wealthy. They had luxurious estates with parks, fountains, numerous servants, and coachmen. She would live with him by the warm sea for a long time. What could be better: lying on hot sand, listening to the sound of the waves, not thinking about anything? "But mama, you know that I could hang myself from such a life! Given my height," Henri insisted.

The countess hired a teacher for him. Monsieur Prensto was a good person and an excellent teacher. But he didn't hear anything. However, he and Henri understood each other without words. The young Toulouse-Lautrec's first works convinced Prensto that this unfortunate boy had great talent. When the time came, Henri left home to live in Paris. He worked a lot, studying the techniques of the great artists. But it is no secret that in Paris, he developed a drinking problem. The restaurants and cafes where he lingered late into the night became a panorama of his life. Sipping vermouth, the small but never intoxicated Henri captured the images of nocturnal revelers with the burnt end of a matchstick on napkins. He tried to understand what had made them like this. The pursuit of pleasure? The emptiness of the soul? Or perhaps they wanted to buy here what they lacked at home - love? He transferred his sketches from paper napkins to canvas paintings. After several exhibitions, Henri Toulouse-Lautrec was talked about as a brilliant innovative artist. Year after year, he made more and more money. But while carefully paying off Madame Lebeau, Henri spent everything else on drinking and lent money to friends, most of whom saw no need to repay...

What the Rain Says. Lithograph, 1895.

Countess Adèle, who loved her son more than anyone else in the world and tormented by guilt towards him, often visited him in Paris. (Count Alphonse, when he was in the capital, avoided meeting him and called his son's paintings scribbles.) The mother tearfully pleaded with Henri to stop drinking. This only elicited bitter laughter from him. "Mom, you know that if I overindulge, I won't have to fall far... given my height."

It all ended with his mother taking the fatally ill but still young Henri back to Malromé. He once again became a child for her - a hardened one, writhing in physical and mental pain. "Little one," his mother called him again, and he, sitting in a chair with his eyes closed, smiled in response. He liked this game. But his condition worsened. First, he lost his legs, then his arms. When he also went blind, he had nothing left but to die.

Shortly before his death, a telegram arrived from Madame Lebeau in Malromé. "What good news does she bring?" Henri asked. The countess didn't answer right away. Just as she couldn't believe her ears when her son intended to become an artist, now she couldn't believe her eyes.

Portrait of Oscar Wilde, 1895.

"Henri, my dear, it's incredible... it says here that the Louvre Museum has acquired several of your paintings and plans to exhibit them!"

"How amusing," Henri smirked. "So, I will hang next to gentlemen like Leonardo da Vinci, Rembrandt, Goya? And yet, newspapers once wrote that my paintings belonged in the trash..."

Countess Adèle knew everything about her son. She knew that he had regretted his birth a hundred times. That he had destroyed himself as soon as he could with his wayward life. That his paintings depicted people as sad and frivolous, dissatisfied with their endlessly monotonous existence, yearning for bright days that they most likely would never have. But it was only after this telegram that the countess realized that her unhappy son had been a genius since the day he was born and, despite his deformity, had served beauty and goodness throughout his life...