Hit of Paris

At noon the visitors began tapping at the window of the Galerie Claude Bernard on Paris' Rue des Beaux-Arts, and all afternoon the crowd swelled. By the time of the official opening at 9 p.m., traffic was at a standstill, and police reinforcements had been called into action. By such signs, Parisians knew they were witnessing France's newest art-world success, Nuts-and-Bolts Sculptor Cesarsar Baldaccini. "Hail, Cesar!" roared Combat. "The Benvenuto Cellini of scrap metal." trumpeted France-Observateur. Wiping his brow, Gallery Owner Bernard beamed: "Even Picasso doesn't pull them in any better."

When tiny (5 ft. 4 in.) Sculptor Cesar saunters through his old Left Bank haunts these days, it is like a triumphal procession. Grave, bearded men bow in deference. Old friends cry out, "Congratulations!" Throwing himself into a chair at the Cafe Deux Magots, Cesar snaps: "Your coffee's no good. Bring me hot chocolate." Waiters rush to carry out his bidding. Both they and Cesar know that three years ago Cesar would have been unable to pay for a single cup of coffee or chocolate.

Nuts & Bolts. The son of a Marseille barrelmaker, Cesar began by making statuettes from the mud in the streets, won a government student grant of $11 a month and took himself to Paris, where miraculously he found himself accepted as a temporary pupil at the Beaux-Arts. He remained a student for 14 years. To stay alive, he sold coal and wood, painted houses, acted as a "jockey" at the greyhound races (he held the leashes).

Then a garage mechanic hired him and taught him welding. It was his salvation. Using his new-found trade, he was able to pitch in with two other students, submitted a project that won the Beaux-Arts' first prize. Made to look like a fish on the outside (to satisfy the Beaux-Arts) and a tangle of nuts and bolts inside (to satisfy Cesar), his piece was bought by France's Musee d'Art Moderne.

Prizes & Pedigree. Since then, there has been no stopping Cesar. "I am like a dog with a pedigree. I've won prizes," he says. "In the studio I want to shake things. I like things to be brutal. If I see that one of my pieces is pretty, I smash it--if I have the courage." Few of the 27 pieces (at $800 to $6,075)in last week's exhibition failed to pass Cesar's own standards of brutality and ugliness. Homage to Brancusi is a big iron egg covered with spikes. The Duchess is equipped with a gizzard made of welded bolts, rods and screws.

Standing behind his towering welded shields, Cesar now philosophically observes all Gaul at his feet. The only one who seems to have any doubts is Cesar himself. When passion is spent and the iron is cool, he views his own works with sobering detachment. Says Cesar: "I wind up foreign to my sculptures, and see them lucidly. The result is I'm always kicking myself in the rear."

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