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In the heart of Banyuls-sur-Mer, in a setting where the sea and Mediterranean vegetation converse with the light, unfolds a singular and moving exhibition.30 July 2025
Maillol and Dina Vierny at Banyuls-sur-Mer, January 1944 © Louis Carré "Harmony", the last great sculpture by Aristide Maillol (1861–1947), offers an intimate glimpse into four intense years of creation, from 1940 to 1944, marked by isolation, war, and deep artistic commitment. Though unfinished at the time of the sculptor’s death, the work nonetheless joins the pantheon of his masterpieces, scattered across the globe—from American museums to Japanese gardens, from Israel to the very heart of Banyuls-sur-Mer, at the town hall. The genesis of this sculpture took place in exceptional circumstances: conceived in the solitude of the Vallée de la Roume, far from the tumult of Paris and in the midst of the violence of World War II, it forever seals the unique relationship between the artist and his young muse, Dina Vierny (1919–2009). More than a retrospective, the exhibition at the Musée Maillol is a true investigation, weaving together formal, historical, and human perspectives. It presents the various stages of creation—models, drawings, and sketches—as well as rare documents, letters, and archival material that reveal the silences and underlying tensions of the work. For behind the apparent softness of Harmony lies a story of struggle, resilience, and beauty at risk.
Maillol shaping Harmony, 1943, © Karquel
Dina Vierny posing for the sculpture Harmony in Aristide Maillol’s studio near Banyuls-sur-Mer, March 1941 © John Rewald
The first part of the exhibition immerses the visitor in the intimacy of Maillol’s studio—a space of tireless work and exploration. Here, one encounters the original torso, numerous subtly varied sketches, and previously unseen documents. The setting is that of an isolated farmhouse in the hills above Banyuls, where Maillol took refuge as early as 1939, fleeing the capital and the dangers looming there. In this rustic and contemplative environment, the sculptor embarked on a project he himself described as exceptional: a life-sized statue, modeled directly from the living figure of Dina Vierny. For the first time, he sought to come “closer to life,” to capture a presence more immediate, more real than ever before. Dina became omnipresent in this sanctuary—between the pink house in the village and the farmhouse nestled in the hills—posing for drawings, paintings, and numerous studies of extraordinary intensity.
Exhibition view showing the four stages of Harmony
But this apparent tranquility is fragile. The outside world is in turmoil. Far from being a passive muse, Dina is actively involved in the Resistance—traveling between cities, helping refugees, taking part in clandestine networks, and even singing in a cabaret in Marseille. Her arrest in Paris in 1943 deeply unsettles Maillol, who fears not only for his muse but also for his sculpture. Anxiously, he writes to his contacts: “The survival of my statue is at stake if it is not returned to me.” This sentence reveals both his profound attachment to the work and the dramatic tension that surrounds it. In a surprising move, Maillol appeals to Arno Breker, the official sculptor of the Nazi regime, in an attempt to secure Dina’s release. Her return in November 1943 allows the work to resume, but time is running out. In September 1944, Maillol dies tragically in a car accident, leaving Harmony unfinished, while Dina, back in Paris, takes part in the Liberation.
Aristide Maillol, Dina Posing for Harmony, circa 1940–1944
Exhibition view of Harmony. The Ultimate Work
The second part of the exhibition focuses on the sculpture as it stood at the time of Maillol’s death, illustrating the different stages and states that reflect an unfinished artistic quest. Visitors discover four sculpted versions of Harmony, all lacking arms. This detail is not a mere aesthetic coincidence: Maillol had envisioned a symbolic gesture, in which the right hand would gently support the left breast, evoking the form of a rose. It was art historian John Rewald, a witness to the posing sessions, who suggested the final title, Harmony. Far from diminishing the work, the absence of arms gives the sculpture a unique tension—a poignant expression of fragility and incompletion. The body appears suspended in a frozen, soft, sinuous movement, while the slightly tilted head with a faint smile evokes the figures of Southeast Asia that Maillol so admired. The piece thus bears the mark of his many influences, balancing Western heritage and East Asian inspiration, with purified forms, synthetic volumes, and a strict equilibrium of masses reminiscent of Cézanne. Maillol himself wrote of the statue: “It is the tightest, the closest to nature that I have ever made.” Stripped of any ornament, this work is nothing but the human body—vulnerable, yet standing with the dignity of a call for peace amid chaos.
The exhibition highlights the striking contrast between the silence and softness of Harmony and the violence of the context in which it was created. The sculpture embodies a form of aesthetic resistance—an inner struggle between the desire for formal order and the chaos of the outside world. Between Maillol’s meditative focus and Dina’s committed energy, between the quest for a perfect form and the impossibility of completing the work, unfolds the full dramatic tension of this creation. The sculptor’s final notebook, presented here for the first time, contains a few poignant words addressed to Dina, whom he believed had been arrested once again. Even on the threshold of death, Maillol seemed convinced that she must still be “freed in order to continue the statue.” This bond—one of mutual admiration, confrontation, and deep friendship—runs throughout the entire exhibition.
Exhibition view of Harmony. The Ultimate Work
Exhibition view of Harmony. The Ultimate Work
Through a dense yet refined exhibition layout, the visitor is brought back to the essentials: a sculpture, a place, a human connection. The exceptional loan of Harmony, usually kept in the gardens of Banyuls’ town hall, allows it to be rediscovered in its original context. The scenography—subtle and contemplative—recreates the warmth of a studio nestled in the garrigue, with sketch-covered walls and the relentless pursuit of a master nearing the end of his journey. As Dina Vierny once said, “It is my portrait, and it is his testament.” This armless, unfinished nude may well represent the most perfect expression of Maillol’s art. It embodies an idea of beauty that transcends war, that resists pain and history, and that—even in its fragmented state—embraces the unwavering pursuit of a world in balance.
Harmony, left unfinished, never had the chance to fully become what Maillol had envisioned. And perhaps that is where its power lies: a suspended work, the result of four years of struggle and waiting, that distills the very essence of the sculptor’s practice. The pursuit of pure forms, the dialogue with the living body, and the desire to offer a promise of peace in the midst of chaos. By revealing the complexity of this creation—its formal beauty, its tormented history, and its unbreakable bond with Dina Vierny—the exhibition reminds us that true harmony does not lie in the absence of disorder, but in the ability to summon grace even within the deepest fractures of the world.
The first part of the exhibition immerses the visitor in the intimacy of Maillol’s studio—a space of tireless work and exploration. Here, one encounters the original torso, numerous subtly varied sketches, and previously unseen documents. The setting is that of an isolated farmhouse in the hills above Banyuls, where Maillol took refuge as early as 1939, fleeing the capital and the dangers looming there. In this rustic and contemplative environment, the sculptor embarked on a project he himself described as exceptional: a life-sized statue, modeled directly from the living figure of Dina Vierny. For the first time, he sought to come “closer to life,” to capture a presence more immediate, more real than ever before. Dina became omnipresent in this sanctuary—between the pink house in the village and the farmhouse nestled in the hills—posing for drawings, paintings, and numerous studies of extraordinary intensity.
Maillol and Dina Vierny at Banyuls-sur-Mer, January 1944 © Louis Carré In the heart of Banyuls-sur-Mer, in a setting where the sea and Mediterranean vegetation converse with the light, unfolds a singular and moving exhibition.
"Harmony", the last great sculpture by Aristide Maillol (1861–1947), offers an intimate glimpse into four intense years of creation, from 1940 to 1944, marked by isolation, war, and deep artistic commitment. Though unfinished at the time of the sculptor’s death, the work nonetheless joins the pantheon of his masterpieces, scattered across the globe—from American museums to Japanese gardens, from Israel to the very heart of Banyuls-sur-Mer, at the town hall. The genesis of this sculpture took place in exceptional circumstances: conceived in the solitude of the Vallée de la Roume, far from the tumult of Paris and in the midst of the violence of World War II, it forever seals the unique relationship between the artist and his young muse, Dina Vierny (1919–2009). More than a retrospective, the exhibition at the Musée Maillol is a true investigation, weaving together formal, historical, and human perspectives. It presents the various stages of creation—models, drawings, and sketches—as well as rare documents, letters, and archival material that reveal the silences and underlying tensions of the work. For behind the apparent softness of Harmony lies a story of struggle, resilience, and beauty at risk.
The first part of the exhibition immerses the visitor in the intimacy of Maillol’s studio—a space of tireless work and exploration. Here, one encounters the original torso, numerous subtly varied sketches, and previously unseen documents. The setting is that of an isolated farmhouse in the hills above Banyuls, where Maillol took refuge as early as 1939, fleeing the capital and the dangers looming there. In this rustic and contemplative environment, the sculptor embarked on a project he himself described as exceptional: a life-sized statue, modeled directly from the living figure of Dina Vierny. For the first time, he sought to come “closer to life,” to capture a presence more immediate, more real than ever before. Dina became omnipresent in this sanctuary—between the pink house in the village and the farmhouse nestled in the hills—posing for drawings, paintings, and numerous studies of extraordinary intensity.
Exhibition view showing the four stages of Harmony
But this apparent tranquility is fragile. The outside world is in turmoil. Far from being a passive muse, Dina is actively involved in the Resistance—traveling between cities, helping refugees, taking part in clandestine networks, and even singing in a cabaret in Marseille. Her arrest in Paris in 1943 deeply unsettles Maillol, who fears not only for his muse but also for his sculpture. Anxiously, he writes to his contacts: “The survival of my statue is at stake if it is not returned to me.” This sentence reveals both his profound attachment to the work and the dramatic tension that surrounds it. In a surprising move, Maillol appeals to Arno Breker, the official sculptor of the Nazi regime, in an attempt to secure Dina’s release. Her return in November 1943 allows the work to resume, but time is running out. In September 1944, Maillol dies tragically in a car accident, leaving Harmony unfinished, while Dina, back in Paris, takes part in the Liberation.
Aristide Maillol, Dina Posing for Harmony, circa 1940–1944
Exhibition view of Harmony. The Ultimate Work
The second part of the exhibition focuses on the sculpture as it stood at the time of Maillol’s death, illustrating the different stages and states that reflect an unfinished artistic quest. Visitors discover four sculpted versions of Harmony, all lacking arms. This detail is not a mere aesthetic coincidence: Maillol had envisioned a symbolic gesture, in which the right hand would gently support the left breast, evoking the form of a rose. It was art historian John Rewald, a witness to the posing sessions, who suggested the final title, Harmony. Far from diminishing the work, the absence of arms gives the sculpture a unique tension—a poignant expression of fragility and incompletion. The body appears suspended in a frozen, soft, sinuous movement, while the slightly tilted head with a faint smile evokes the figures of Southeast Asia that Maillol so admired. The piece thus bears the mark of his many influences, balancing Western heritage and East Asian inspiration, with purified forms, synthetic volumes, and a strict equilibrium of masses reminiscent of Cézanne. Maillol himself wrote of the statue: “It is the tightest, the closest to nature that I have ever made.” Stripped of any ornament, this work is nothing but the human body—vulnerable, yet standing with the dignity of a call for peace amid chaos.
The exhibition highlights the striking contrast between the silence and softness of Harmony and the violence of the context in which it was created. The sculpture embodies a form of aesthetic resistance—an inner struggle between the desire for formal order and the chaos of the outside world. Between Maillol’s meditative focus and Dina’s committed energy, between the quest for a perfect form and the impossibility of completing the work, unfolds the full dramatic tension of this creation. The sculptor’s final notebook, presented here for the first time, contains a few poignant words addressed to Dina, whom he believed had been arrested once again. Even on the threshold of death, Maillol seemed convinced that she must still be “freed in order to continue the statue.” This bond—one of mutual admiration, confrontation, and deep friendship—runs throughout the entire exhibition.
Exhibition view of Harmony. The Ultimate Work
Exhibition view of Harmony. The Ultimate Work
Through a dense yet refined exhibition layout, the visitor is brought back to the essentials: a sculpture, a place, a human connection. The exceptional loan of Harmony, usually kept in the gardens of Banyuls’ town hall, allows it to be rediscovered in its original context. The scenography—subtle and contemplative—recreates the warmth of a studio nestled in the garrigue, with sketch-covered walls and the relentless pursuit of a master nearing the end of his journey. As Dina Vierny once said, “It is my portrait, and it is his testament.”
This armless, unfinished nude may well represent the most perfect expression of Maillol’s art. It embodies an idea of beauty that transcends war, that resists pain and history, and that—even in its fragmented state—embraces the unwavering pursuit of a world in balance.
Harmony, left unfinished, never had the chance to fully become what Maillol had envisioned. And perhaps that is where its power lies: a suspended work, the result of four years of struggle and waiting, that distills the very essence of the sculptor’s practice. The pursuit of pure forms, the dialogue with the living body, and the desire to offer a promise of peace in the midst of chaos.
By revealing the complexity of this creation—its formal beauty, its tormented history, and its unbreakable bond with Dina Vierny—the exhibition reminds us that true harmony does not lie in the absence of disorder, but in the ability to summon grace even within the deepest fractures of the world.