During their brief tenure in Waco, artist Reynold Arnould and his wife, novelist and art critic Martha, were the most famous faculty members at Baylor University – and almost certainly the most glamorous. The Arnoulds brought international attention to the campus before the siren call of Paris eventually, perhaps inevitably, lured them back home.
But just a few years after their departure from Baylor, Reynold’s name appeared again. Only this time, it was part of a puzzling and surprisingly audacious crime that remains unsolved to this day.
If you’re not familiar French artists from the second half of the 20th century, Arnould’s works – which range from abstract impressionism to modern portraiture – are still sold in art auctions and galleries, sometimes for tens of thousands of dollars. These major auction houses still provide excellent biographies of Arnould and a quick internet search reveals dozens upon dozens of articles about the man – many in French.
Arnould was born on Dec. 7, 1919, in Le Havre, and moved as an infant with his family to Rouen. A child prodigy, he began serious art training by age eight under the famed Impressionists Monet and Sisley. His first exhibition followed a year later at the Galerie Legrip in Rouen and by age 10 had been admitted to Rouen’s School of Fine Arts. At 12, he was presented to painter and critic J.E. Blanche. While still a teenager, Arnould was accepted to the School of Beaux-Arts in Paris. In 1938, still only 19, he won the Grand Prix de Romana.
In 1939 he became one of the millions of young men in France mobilized to face the threat of Nazi Germany. When the country fell in June 1940, Arnould fled into the countryside, continuing his studies of modern art – forbidden by the Nazis – relocating frequently throughout the German occupation.
Arnould’s most noted creation during this period was three large fresco murals a hundred meters square painted for a church high in the Pyrenees, accomplished through the heroic complicity of the townspeople and under the noses of occupation forces in 1942.
At war’s end, Arnould’s works, crafted in secrecy and sometimes hidden for months, were exhibited at Salon d’Automne and Salen des Tuileries in 1945 and at the Passedoit Gallery in New York in 1946. Other postwar exhibitions were featured in the Billiet-Caputo Galleries in Paris, the Gallery Gimpel Fils in London, the Dublin Art Museum, the Durand-Rue Galleries in New York. At some point during this period, Reynold and Martha Bouris (Marthe in the French-language articles) marry.
The best account of Arnould’s postwar years is from the Musée d’art modern André Mairaux.
This is where Baylor’s other superstar faculty member enters the picture – the legendary Paul Baker who, since his arrival in the 1930s, was building the Baylor theater department into a national powerhouse. Baker had organized and arranged entertainment for American soldiers in the European front and eventually was named chief of entertainment for the European Theatre of Operations in 1944. When Martha was placed in charge of a cultural reception for Allied troops following a theatrical production, the two met and made an immediate connection.
According to the Musée d’art modern’s site, the Arnoulds embarked from Le Havre for the United States on Jan. 31, 1946, on the Warren P. Marks Liberty ship as part of an exchange program to strengthen Franco-American cultural relations. The Warren P. Marks arrived on Feb. 17, and Reynould immediately went to work and presented an exhibition at Georgette Passendoit’s gallery from April 22-May 4 – the first exhibition in the U.S. by a French artist who had remained in France during the occupation. The exhibition consisted of 15 canvases, including two landscapes of New York City, painted shortly after the couple’s arrival.
Martha made an impression of her own. She is featured in a glamorous fashion photograph in the prestigious Town & Country magazine, posing pensively in front of a busy street scene. (The article notes that “her silver broadtail jacket is round-collared, petal-cuffed, Revillon Frères, John Frederics cloche.”) Through her friendship with French cultural attaché Claude Levi-Strauss, Martha was soon part of a lecture tour of the South, encouraging the study of the French language. One of her stops was at Baylor and the home of Paul and Kitty Baker. Discussions quickly began to bring Reynould to Baylor.
The Arnoulds returned to Paris at the end of May 1946 and continued to build their reputations, culminating with Reynold’s first major exhibition in Paris at the Billiet-Caputo Gallery (the future Galerie de France) from Feb. 5-28, 1949. The exhibition – a series of 145 portraits of a single model – was so successful that it earned a double-page spread in the immensely popular Life Magazine in the U.S. on Nov. 7, 1949. The paintings of the incredibly patient subject, the “plus-sized” restaurateur and art patron Camille Renault, evolve from formal portraits into abstract impressionism.
The Arnoulds’ arrival in Waco, even though it was initially as an interim appointment for the winter 1949 term, was heralded by local, state, and even national newspapers. The Lariat alone printed dozens upon dozens of articles on the glamorous couple in the next few years, beginning Nov. 2, 1949, with the first announcement of the appointment and the fact that he will bring his current exhibit from the Durand-Ruel Gallery in New York with him. Reynold told Baylor officials that, in addition to teaching fresco techniques, he hoped “to see many landscapes I have not seen.”
The front page of the Nov. 15 edition features a large photo of Reynold, looking like a mixture of 1950s’ Alain Delon and today’s Adrian Brody. By month’s end, Arnould’s paintings of Renault had been mounted in the Student Union Building’s galleries. Another front-page article on the exhibit claimed that “between 600 and 700 people” had streamed to the Union’s main lounge. Doors had been scheduled to open at 4 p.m., but “so many people were there early that the doors were opened a little after 1.” Among those present were Baylor President W.R. White; Dr. W.E. Martin, president of Sullins College in in Bristol, Virginia; and much of the Baylor administration and faculty.
In January 1950, the Alpha Delta law fraternity had commissioned – and Reynold had produced – a portrait of longtime law school Dean Allen G. McDonald, the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts had announced that Arnould’s latest exhibition would open in March at the museum, and Arnould welcomed his first international student, Michal Kozlowski, who had travelled from Poland to study with him. Kozlowski, whose scholarship was provided by the Polish Combatant’s Association, had spent five and a half years in a German concentration camp in Westphalia and reported that Baylor students and faculty made “him feel at home” – no small feat, considering that this was during the height of the Cold War with the Soviet Union and its “allies.”
Reynold also found time to sit for his first interview with The Lariat. He said that Martha had just traveled to Paris for a month to oversee some of their French interests, then returned to Waco. Reynold added that, while he hoped he could return to America after his interim position was completed, he was determined to complete as many pieces of art in Texas as possible. “In New York, the atmosphere is like steel or a razor’s edge,” he said.
Reynold was especially fascinated in American football, constantly sketching the players and spectators at Baylor games, describing it as akin to a “revival of the knights of the Middle Ages.” In summer of 1950, he committed to teach in Middlebury, Vermont, before returning to Paris to design the sets and costumes for the Paris Opera Ballet.
Judging by the letters to the editor and editorials, the Arnoulds’ presence on campus was well received by students. One art student, Corida Burge, said she now spent a lot of time explaining modern art to her fellow students. “This increase of interest has been stimulated by the presence of Reynold Arnould, famous French artist, who has been teaching during the winter quarter,” she said. Burge noted that art classes were burgeoning and that there has been a “tremendous increase in the circulation of art books magazines.”
The Arnoulds sailed back to France following the completion of the term in March, but by June 1950 Baylor announced that Reynold had accepted a one-year position as chair and faculty member with the Art Department, beginning in September. Dean Monroe S. Carroll told The Lariat that the “favor with which the artist was received by students” as well as “Central Texas art lovers” had prompted the appointment. Carroll added that, once the appointment was made official, 65 students immediately signed up for Arnould’s classes.
The Arnoulds were happy as well. “There’s a sort of freedom in Texas that is found nowhere else in the world,” Reynold said. “The vast open spaces, and the bright, clear skies lend to that sense of freedom. And the spirit of the people –aggressive but ever friendly – is especially helpful to the creative arts.” Reynold also mentioned his passion for Southwest Conference football.
The couple found a home at 412 N. 24th St. and renewed their friendship with the Bakers. According to The Lariat, Martha, who “was well accepted in Waco social and cultural circles,” rejoined her husband in October and continue writing on Roman frescoes and manuscripts of the Middle Ages.
But when Martha returned home, the Waco Tribune-Herald reported that she was accompanied by their cat, Texanne. One distinctive feature of Texanne, who also appeared in a number of Reynold’s paintings, was the Egyptian scarab and the two medals on her collar, presents of the captains of the ships Liberte and Île de France. Martha had been invited to teach art history at Baylor, though she admitted she had been spoiled teaching the course in Paris with “so many examples of famous art within a radius of 20 miles.”
The Arnoulds’ two-year stay in Waco went without incident once students got used to photographers and journalists from magazines like Time and Life appearing on campus periodically. The Bakers and Arnoulds continued to travel, sometimes in support of the Baylor Theatre’s increasingly prominent national profile. Reynold often drew or painted the well-known theatrical and motion picture actors who came to Baylor during that period, particularly Charles Laughton. Laughton, a guest of the Bakers, once compelled Paul to accompany him to the Arnould’s house at 2 a.m. According to the Tribune-Herald, Laughton “couldn’t sleep, so he wanted to talk and he wanted some strong black coffee,” which Martha sleepily made, then retired back to bed.
As the Arnoulds’ tenure at Baylor came to an end, Reynold collaborated on two final projects with Baker. First, Reynold agreed to create more than 30 costumes and design all sets for the Baylor Theatre production of Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure in spring 1951. Measure for Measure featured 10 different stage settings, the Tribune-Herald reported that each set represented “varied aspects of life in Renaissance Vienna.” Reynold, a longtime friend of French designer Jacques Fath, had previously designed costumes for different Paris ballet and opera companies. The most audacious aspect of the production, however, was that Reynold painted the designs directly on the actors’ bodies.
Reviews of the production, which drew critics and theater-goers from across the state, were uniformly excellent and illustrations for the production appeared in several French magazines and newspapers.
As for the second project, the Arnoulds co-created one of the University’s first study abroad programs in Paris for summer 1952. The Tribune-Herald’s article noted that for $900 (which included airfare, room, board, and tuition), 25 students would study art, theater, and French with the Arnoulds and the Bakers and spend a week in the 13th century Abbey de Royaumont, 20 miles from the City of Lights.
At the end of the fall semester Reynold and Martha (and Texanne) returned to Paris for good. Reynold’s career continued to flourish in France and his artwork still sells for impressive prices 40 years after his death on May 23, 1980, in Paris.
But Arnould’s legacy at Baylor contains one last twist. On Thursday, June 13, 1957, Baylor officials reported that one of three paintings by Reynold hanging in the lobby of the Baylor Theatre had been stolen. The fresco painting, colorfully depicting a spectator at Arnould’s first football game in Baylor in fall 1949, had been loaned to the University by the artist – and thus was not covered by Baylor’s insurance. The painting, 18 by 30 inches on inch-thick plaster reinforced by wire, was mounted on a wooden frame and weighed more than 100 pounds. The theft generated national interest and coverage.
The Tribune-Herald said that Beth Wear of the theatre staff reported the disappearance of the painting on Wednesday. The painting, the newspaper said, was one of eight Arnould had loaned to the school when he left Baylor in 1952. Baker told reporters that students, staff, and faculty were in the building at all hours during the day and that it would have been difficult to steal such a prominent work of art, particularly since the building was generally locked by 10:30 p.m. “Somebody just broke in and stole it,” Baker said sadly.
Professor Austin Kilian said that the fresco, painted using ancient techniques on plaster, was extremely fragile and would shatter if dropped. A similar painting of actor Charles Laughton, which had been given to the department by Stanley Marcus, was valued at $1,000, and Baker suggested that the football fresco was of equal value. An article in The Baylor Line added that the heavy wires supporting the piece had been “neatly clipped with wire-cutters.” The theft, the article said, had been “deliberately planned” and may have been “the work of some unknown person who may have had a grudge against the theater.” Police reported that they, at that time, had no clues.
Left: An excerpt from the July-August 1957 issue of Baylor Line Magazine describes the theft.
Above: Charles Laughton by Reynold Arnould | Courtesy of Martin Museum of Art
Alas, no mention of Reynold Arnould’s stolen fresco appears in subsequent issues of The Baylor Lariat, The Waco Tribune-Herald or The Baylor Line, which suggests – alas – that the theft still remains unsolved.
Fortunately, illustrations of Arnould’s work appear in a host of online art auction sites, as well as various articles and essays on 20th century French artists. His portrait of Dean McDonald can still be seen (by appointment) at the Baylor School of Law. The Martin Museum of Art also still retains one of Reynold’s paintings in its permanent collection, though it is not currently on display.
However, though Arnould also donated paintings to both the Baylor Theatre and the Baylor Student Union, neither has any of his artwork on exhibit.
The auction sites James Worrall and Hanina Fine Arts say that Arnould was an “astonishingly talented painter.” The popular art site easel.net says that Arnould has been “recognized for his contributions to the abstract art movement, particularly for his dynamic and colorful compositions.” Looking at his paintings online, you can see that incredibly wide diversity of his art.
So. What to think of Reynold Arnould today?
Just this: That it would be very nice to someday see an exhibition of Arnould’s work at his adopted Texas home on the Baylor University campus.
