Archive | 7:33 pm

The Other Savoy Girl

15 May

Maria Ana Carlotta Gabriela of Savoy, younger sister of the Comtesse de Provence and Comtesse d’Artois, sister in law to Madame Clothilde de France and cousin of the Princesse de Lamballe. Maria Ana was born in Turin on the 17th December 1757 and was married at the age of sixteen on the 19th March 1775  to her uncle, Prince Benedetto of Savoy, Duc de Chablais.

The Duc de Penthièvre

15 May

The Duc de Penthièvre and his daughter, Louise Marie Adélaïde de Bourbon, Duchesse d’Orléans, painted by Charpentier in 1768, probably as a companion piece to the better known ‘Le Chocolat’, which depicts the Duc with his family, enjoying a morning cup of hot chocolate.

Revolting peasants

15 May

In 1756, while the poor of France starved and struggled to survive, the two sons of the Duc de Bouillon posed as peasants or Montagnards for the artist Drouais. Charmingly clad in picturesque rags, surrounded by artfully placed mess, the elder of the boys, Jacques Léopold, Prince de Bouillon (1746-1802) is shown playing a hurdy gurdy, while his younger brother, Charles Louis, Prince d’Auvergne (1749-1767) plays with what at first glance appears to be a giant rat, but is in fact a Marmot.

This was a charming and common conceit in eighteenth century art, but also, to the eyes of a modern viewer, a rather tasteless one that ignores the real sufferings of the French poor at this time.

Miniature beauties

15 May

Long time readers of this blog will know that I really do adore miniatures and I thought I would share a few new discoveries with you all, including the one above which is of an unknown girl by Ignazio Campana.

The two daughters of the infamous Madame de Genlis, Caroline-Jeanne (1765-1786) and Pulchérie-Nicole (1766-1847). Caroline was to marry the Marquis de la Woestine and have three children: Eglantine, Charles-Alexis and Léocadie, before dying at the age of twenty one. Pulchérie (who was known as Péky), who married the Vicomte de Valence and had two daughters: Félicie and Rose.

The Canoness of Golmin, painted in 1780 by Nicolas Hallé.

A mother and child by Jean-Baptiste le Tellier.

An unknown girl, painted by Jean-Baptiste Augustin in 1790.

Another unknown beauty, painted by Jean-Baptiste Weyler. Clearly if you wanted your son to go into the painting miniatures profession, christening him ‘Jean-Baptiste’ was the way to go!

The Marquise de Flavacourt, painted by Pierre Adolphe Hall.

The Comtesse d’Estrades by Pierre Adolphe Hall.

La famille Léonard

15 May

This family portrait, painted in 1692 by the great Hyacinthe Rigaud really caught my eye just now. I don’t think that any other portrait painter of this era has so ably captured the extreme luxe and dissolute decadence of the final years of Louis XIV’s reign.

Madame de Chateauroux

15 May

An amazing portrait, allegedly of Madame la Duchesse de Chateauroux by Nattier. Madame de Chateauroux was one of the most rapacious and notorious of the mistresses of Louis XV before he turned his back on the grasping but lovely ladies of the aristocracy and made the middle class Madame de Pompadour his mistress instead.

Amusingly, the beautiful and seductive Madame de Chateauroux was the youngest of five daughters of the Marquis de Nesle and Mailly, only one of whom did not become a mistress of the young King. Her eldest sister, Louise Julie, the Comtesse de Mailly was first into the King’s bed in 1732 before being succeeded by the second sister, Pauline Félicité,  the Marquise de Vintimille who became royal mistress in 1740.

However, in 1742, Marie Anne, the Marquise de Tournelle and youngest and most beautiful of the sisters was introduced at court by the Duc de Richelieu and quickly superceded both of her elder sisters in the King’s affections, eventually being created Duchesse de Chateauroux by her smitten royal lover, who also arranged for her eldest sister, who was still his official mistress to be sent away from court.

Marie Anne’s triumph did not last long as she died very suddenly on the 8th December 1744. The story goes that Louis XV became seriously ill while overseeing his troops in Metz and had to have the last rites, which involved officially dismissing his mistress so that he could be recieved into heaven in a state of grace. When the news of his subsequent recovery reached the mournful Marie Anne in Paris, she was so thrilled that she immediately called for a rather unseasonable bath to be prepared so that she could look and smell her best for her lover. Only to be killed by the subsequent chill that she caught.

After her death, Louis XV rather half heartedly consoled himself with her elder sister, the third Mailly girl: Diane Adélaïde, the Duchesse de Lauraguais, but she was soon replaced by Madame de Pompadour. One can only wonder how the fourth girl: Hortense Felicité, Marquise de Flavacourt felt about this – I imagine her patiently waiting for her turn in the spotlight for all those years only to be disappointed.

Femme à sa toilette

15 May

Femme à sa Toilette, painted by Guillaume Voiriot in around 1760. I wrote about this painting back in the heady days when I first started this blog but am going to write about it again as I think that this must be one of my favourite eighteenth century portraits.

I first came across it while wandering around the Musée des Arts Décoratifs in Paris a couple of years ago. I’d just been gently scolded for taking photographs in the Jean Paul Gaultier exhibition in the Musée des Modes and so was too abashed to take photographs in its magnificent sister museum.

I was hiding from a particularly friendly curator when I turned a corner and saw this portrait hanging luminous and beautiful against a dark wall. I seem to recall the label saying that it depicted Madame de Montesson, the morganatic second wife of the Duc d’Orléans, but may be misremembering. I’ll check when I go back in a couple of weeks time!

Anyway, I stood for a long time in front of this painting, admiring Madame’s direct yet langurous gaze, the seductive ribbons on her bodice, the lavish falls of lace at her elbow and the exquisite feminine clutter on her dressing table. To me, this painting epitomises everything that I most love about eighteenth century France – serious luxury, the fact that it takes a while for you to realise that actually Madame is not as pretty as her exquisite surroundings make you think she is and the fact that in the midst of all the decadence and extravagence, Madame is caught in the act of reading a book and has her finger placed so that she can continue just as soon as the insolent viewer has moved on.

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