A line of French soldiers marches down a rain-wet path, mouths open in song. Theophilus Steinlen’s title loosely translates to “Song of the Road” or “Song of the Way” and illustrates a relatively calm moment in the midst of one of the most devastating events in world history: the Great War, or World War I. In 1915, about the time when Steinlen created this lithograph, it was thought that this was truly going to be the “war to end all wars” as its scope of reach and terrible toll seemed, at the time, to be the worst in human history. Steinlen had heretofore been a champion of lower class society, especially those in the arts. He became a kind of documentarian of the lives of those who traditionally had been swept under the rug, and was known for his posters and advertisements for such venues as le Chat Noir, which hosted musicians and performers who pushed against the status quo.
However, when war broke out in 1914, Steinlen’s artistic path changed course and he began to capture the oft-overlooked fallout endured by the families of dead soldiers. As well, he turned his gaze to quieter moments experienced by soldiers as they prepared to ship out, rather than focusing on the carnage of the battlefield. In “Chanson de Route” he illuminates the gritty morale of the young men who march toward what increasingly felt like certain doom. They sing, heads high, shoulder to shoulder, bracing themselves for what greets them through the ever-powerful balm of music.