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Constable v. Delacroix But let’s face it, this confrontation is pure romance with a capital R. It’s what the business is all about. Passion, commitment, character, cohesion, all-round quality, the temperament for the big occasion and set piece, control, desire and, of course, in Delacroix’s case, that unmistakable gallic flair. And if you don’t believe me think of the French national squad before Delacroix came along and you’ve got it in a nutshell. Ingres was consummate at leading the line and David could operate comfortably from both sides. Then there was Vernet who was dependable enough and Baron Gros, remember him, who was solid at the basics and the old school’s last line of defence. But really with all of these you’re still talking competent journeymen. They kept a good shape, their approach was always simple in outline, but they were still classical, did it by the book. Reliable, sound technique, tight at the back, lovely clean sheets, that’s true enough, but just a wee shade predictable. With Ingres you know what’s coming, but with Delacroix anything goes and anything can happen and his first touch is unbelievable. Un-be-leevbull. There’s more colour to him all round, more options, more spine and shape. But let’s face it, the style’s changed forever and nowadays at this level you need something a little bit special and Delacroix’s got it by the bucketload. He writes his own script and sings from his own songsheet. You’re talking energy and enterprise, taking chances, building from the back. He’s criticised for being hot-headed, red-blooded, all the rest of it, overly theatrical too, but look at him in this passage here. The originality and skill of it. Here he comes, the blue flash in the foreground, and there’s that first touch. Incredible. The challenge comes in and he takes it on. He stops the movement dead with the deftest touch and control, then a change of tempo and colour and he’s off down the line again round the outside, changing emphasis and speed here, then he flicks it inside and back out again. That’s true ability for you. He’s the consummate artist, like the conductor, bringing all the elements together. All the rest just fits into place. His is a new school of thought requiring the complete re-writing of all the textbooks. Everyone else is trying to catch up with him. But let’s face it, I mentioned Delacroix’s flicks there. There’s no question that he learned these from Constable, whose whole approach is flicks interspersed with beautifully controlled dribbles that he makes look so easy. They say with Constable he’s an out and out right winger and his control and pace, and the flicks too, make him perfect for that. And it’s true to a certain degree, but remember when he started he couldn’t get in his local Academy because they hated his style. They just didn’t see it. They called him scrappy and coarse but he stuck to his guns, kept returning to basics, kept faith in his roots and his natural instincts as if he knew they’d come to love him for it in the end. If there’s a criticism of Constable it’s that he can drift in and out, he loses concentration and it’s the reason why he’s considered a bit of a luxury. They tried teaming him up with Jimmy Turner but it did nae work. They were completely different temperaments, both far too selfish, neither really a team player. There was that famous occasion when they were playing together trying to score against each other. Imagine that. The irony of course is that what Constable learned originally by watching the French when he was an apprentice – you remember Claude, what an artiste he was, even the Italians worshipped him – he then gave back to them with that little bit extra penetration and vigour. But let’s face it, while the English management didn’t really appreciate him, the French, and Delacroix in particular, took him to their hearts. They realised what an original ability he had. We all remember the amazing exhibition in Paris, when he ran rings round everyone. What an impression he made. Even the French President was clapping him by the end. That was what sealed it for the French. After winning the medal it was only luck that he didn’t end up with a French contract. They’d never seen the like of it. They were used to rigidity, set patterns and then along comes this hick Tractor Boy from across the Channel, big heart roaming freely like a breath of fresh air. Delacroix could say he was moving in that direction anyway and beginning to favour that style hisself but it was Constable showed him route one. But let’s face it, if you’re a manager you’d have to prefer Constable. He’s a church-going lad, stable marriage, supportive family, writes his thank-you letters on time. With Delacroix there’s always a big question mark over his temperament. He’s a bit of a flash harry, bit wild and there’s a tendency to showboat. There’s also a few disciplinary problems, brushes with authority, and he’s out clubbing a wee bit too much for most people’s liking. He likes the limelight for its own sake whereas Constable, he’s out there on the heath rain or shine training every day, working at the control and perfecting that little touch so the execution always lives up to the idea. But let’s face it, at this stage of their careers it’s a tricky call but because of that all-important element of surprise and the way he covers the space, the sheer class and freshness of his technique, Delacroix shades it. He’s the complete package. From: The Jackdaw No. 27 April 2003 |  | ||||||||
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