Impressions of here and elsewhere: Jean-Pierre Beckius at the Villa Vauban

The legacy of Jean-Pierre Beckius extends far beyond the Moselle landscapes for which popular consciousness has deemed fit to remember him. The exhibition Impressions d'ici et d'ailleurs, at the Villa Vauban until 1 June 2025, brings the painter's multiple facets to the fore through the showcase of previously unknown artworks, ranging from family portraits to landscapes made during his various travels across Europe.

ROUX was graciously invited to attend a preview of the exhibition. We have had the pleasure of chatting with Lisa Bley, Beckius great-granddaughter, about his life and work. Here is, thus, a modest contribution to the discovery – or rather, rediscovery – of a Luxembourgish artist well worth the attention.

Auto-portrait, 1927 / © François Beckius or Dunja Weber

Jean-Pierre Beckius was born in 1899 in Mertert, amid the steep vineyards of the Moselle valley. Though the son of a winemaker, his calling as a painter came early on in his life. From 1914 to 1918, he studied at the Handwierkerschoul in Luxembourg City and, the following year, journeyed to Paris in order to perfect his craft.

These seven Parisian years, until 1926, during which he attended the Ecole nationale des beaux-arts, honed his skills under Fernand Cormon (whose workshop had fostered such figures as van Gogh and Toulouse-Lautrec), and learned to love the works of Camille Corot, were crucial in his artistic development.

Yet the most peculiar influence on his style came doubtless from his discovery of the impressionist painters. For Beckius would from that moment on remain an impressionist at heart, if never a particularly dishevelled one; rather, his sense of composition, his search for serenity and emptiness, even amid the bustle of the big city, make him lean towards the classicism of Corot, whose Barbizon school was but one of the precursors of the impressionist movement.

Thus the twilight of the evening paid respect to the twilight of the morn. As for all the fancy -isms of the time – cubism, fauvism, dadaism, etc – they only interested Beckius from afar. With impressionism, he had found his technique, the adequate tool to "reproduce on the canvas what he saw before him, what seemed worth it, what moved him" (Madeleine Frieden-Kinnen).

Between 1928 and 1930, Beckius visited Italy, staying, first, in Rome, then in Naples. The shimmering azure of the Tyrrhenian, the sun-basked piazze and shaded vicoli, far different from the colour palette of what he had hitherto been painting, must have been welcomed as both a change and a challenge.

Stendhal found that every time one travelled two hundred leagues north or south, there was occasion to write a different novel, each latitude having a distinct local colour for the artist to capture. See how the painter's artworks support this impression of the writer.

Sopra la città, Napoli, 1930. / © François Beckius or Dunja Weber

His marriage with Gabrielle Breyer, in 1933, was the other great event of his life. One cannot help but feel his devotion in the numerous portraits he painted of her until his death. This devotion was reciprocated, as "Gaby" never once reproached him the prolonged absences from home that his work as an outdoor painter, ever looking for the perfect meeting of light and landscape, required.

Beckius, it must be said, never had any other income than what he earned through his painting. This financial need to work, added to his tireless artistic drive and admiration for the master Rembrandt, must be what inspired the couple to spend their honeymoon in Amsterdam, between 1933 and 1934.

Trois facades, Amsterdam, 1933. / © François Beckius or Dunja Weber

Back from the Netherlands, Beckius and Gabrielle settled in his hometown of Mertert, near that Moselle which he knew by heart but could paint as if he saw it each time with newly-opened eyes. The region, its people, but also portraits of his own, growing family, make out this final artistic period of his.

The German occupation during World War II caused this already discreet man to withdraw from public life altogether, but did not change his painting habits in any significant way. Allegedly, friends of his family hid some of his paintings in barrels of Fiiz – a local apple cider – to prevent their theft by the Nazi regime.

In the absence of a record, there is no telling which ones nor how many weathered the war in such storage conditions, but some of the paintings displayed today might well owe their survival to this act of love and resistance.

Jean-Pierre Beckius died suddenly in 1946 at the age of 47 years, possibly from pneumonia he contracted during an outdoor painting session. Left in the wake of this tragedy were his widow and their six children, of whom the last one was born that very same year.

Time began its work, which selects, streamlines and caricatures our deeds, until the part flattersome and part belittling epithet of "painter of the Moselle" remained as the chief thing evoked by the name of Beckius. His descendants have lately taken upon themselves to promote and honour his memory.

There is but one Moselle landscape featured in Impressions d’ici et d’ailleurs, as a token. It is displayed right at the beginning, for the curious and incurious alike. The exhibition's design is to showcase the many and varied aspects of Beckius' career and insert them within the context of his all too short personal life.

Continue reading to learn about some of the things that stuck out to us about his paintings.

Fascination with time and decay

Among the subjects Jean-Pierre Beckius explored in his work, architectural ruins hold a special place. The artist seemed to be drawn in by the mystery of time – a mystery under the power of which even the most grand and enduring structures are eventually softened, reclaimed by nature and gradually transformed into poetic monuments to the impermanence of all things.

The exhibition features Beckius' studies of Roman ruins, their gracious, classical forms rendered luminous in golden light. According to one of his close friends, Beckius "took more pleasure from the Colosseum in Rome in its present-day form of ruin than in its former marble-clad splendour, in which it would have pricked the eyes of the Romans before".

A reserved and introspective man, Beckius is said to have felt most at peace either in untouched natural settings or among ruins where nature had begun to "regain the upper hand over the cultural work of man".

Laerensmillen avec jonc, 1924. / © François Beckius or Dunja Weber

Perhaps even more revealing than his Roman studies is Beckius' lifelong engagement with the Laerensmillen, an abandoned mill in eastern Luxembourg, near the Moselle river. Familiar to him since childhood, the Laerensmillen seems to have ignited an early fascination with decay and transformation.

The haunting allure of the town's derelict structures – a universal feature of childhood imagination – found its most enduring expression in Beckius' work. Across countless sketches and paintings, he returned to the mill time and again to capture its evolution across many seasons and years.

Laerensmillen with Reeds, Laerensmillen in Spring, Laerensmillen with Roses – all throughout the paintings we witness the artist's meticulous attention to the site, striving to record its every possible mood. Snow-laden rooftops, summer's wild encroaching greenery – each image presents a fragment of the mill's changing character.

As Beckius revisits the Laerensmillen year after year, season after season, he seems to merge with the place itself and become its spectral inhabitant, the very spirit that haunts it.

In his Laerensmillen's Attic, the viewer is placed into the unusual perspective of a bird's eye view from the mill's exposed attic. Together with Beckius, we are gazing through the deteriorated wooden floor structure inside of the house's "mind" space, trying to comprehend the building's structural workings from within.

The fresh, lively greenery seen through the window contrasts sharply with the coldness of the slightly rotten, worn-out building interior, but our gaze is nevertheless directed within the house. Could it be that, for Beckius, the Laerensmillen was not just a ruin but a metaphor for the human mind – a repository of memory, an ever-changing reflection of the self? Seen this way, the quest to comprehend the Laerensmillen becomes a quest of self-knowledge.

Grenier Laerensmillen, 1924. / © François Beckius or Dunja Weber

Gabrielle Beckius-Breyer: muse within the artist's world

Another significant theme in Beckius' work is the figure of his wife, Gabrielle. Evidently, the then fashionable subject of bustling social life generally failed to captivate artists' imagination, and the wild and seductive scenes of Paris bistros and ballrooms left him cold. Gabrielle, however, was an exception.

Though Beckius inhabited a world largely of his own making – introspective, quiet, and, at times, melancholic – it was far from a desolate, haunted place. Beside the artist stood she who was his spouse, his life partner, the mother of his children, and his muse: Gabrielle.

Gaby en rouge, 1933 / © François Beckius or Dunja Weber

Angel Gabrielle portrays her standing contemplatively among the ruins of the Laerensmillen. The painting's interplay of light and shadow imbues her figure with otherworldly qualities, giving her the wings of an angel. Here, Beckius elevates his wife's presence into something divine, eternalising his love much as Dante immortalised Beatrice. The ruins, a subject of eternal reflection in his art, become a sanctuary for this deeply personal tribute.

Gabrielle is dressed in a red coat in Angel Gabrielle – a motif that recurs in other portraits where she appears in a red cardigan or dress. Was red her favourite colour, or was it Beckius' preferred way of painting her? Whatever the reason, this colour becomes a signature of her presence in his works.

Her red silhouette – a guiding flame illuminating his path, a symbol of warmth and vitality – stands as a gentle, steadfast spirit companion, grounding the artist's introspection in a sense of love and belonging.

L’ange Gabrielle, undated. / © François Beckius or Dunja Weber

Our warmest thanks to Lisa Bley from the Jean-Pierre Beckius Legacy collective for the help and advice she provided us during the making of this article. Find out more about the Jean-Pierre Beckius Legacy collective at beckius.art.

Roux Magazine

Roux Magazine is made by students at the University of Luxembourg. We love their work, so we decided to team up with them and bring some of their articles to our audience as well. You can find all of their issues on Issuu.