A Portrait of the Duchess of Bassano by François Gérard
Two years after the formidable Portrait de Charles Ferdinand Théodore de Vassinhac d’Imécourt, another portrait by Baron Gérard, just as monumental and unprecedented, has appeared at auction, and has always remained with the model’s heirs.
The art of portraiture is also the art of the letter writing… “Madame de Bassano was too beautiful, her husband too powerful, she was too lavished by the favors of her sovereign, so that slander could not seek to harm her; it seeks with greater perseverance all kinds of merit, and leaves in peace only those who cannot inspire envy.” Georgette Ducrest, author of Mémoires sur l’impératrice Joséphine (the title chosen for the 2004 edition), looks back in 1810-1811 with considerable admiration on an impressive woman. Marshal Oudinot’s second wife, Eugénie de Coucy, presented to the Emperor in February 1813, had a similar sentiment: “Tall, beautiful, cold, the duchess impressed me greatly, and her patronage, natural as a result of the close relationship we had with her husband, did not help me, for gradually accustomed to the high position she occupied, she had never felt, or had forgotten, the anxieties of shyness.” His model’s personality suited François Gérard perfectly! He wasn’t exactly a ladies’ man, but rather a man with a talent for pampering women, preferably unattainable ones. This native of Rome, son of Cardinal de Bernis’ steward and an Italian woman, married his mother’s younger sister, Margherita, in 1794, just after the death of his mother Cléria, “for convenience and to avoid family breakup” — with whom he had no children, for reasons we can imagine. This history painter, trained by Jacques Louis David, offered France a host of paintings with eloquent subjects, but he was also an extraordinary portraitist, especially of women. It’s impossible not to be reminded of the great women of the First Empire portrayed by the artist, including the Napoleonic Madame Mère (three versions) and Josephine Bonaparte (St. Petersburg, Hermitage Museum), of course, but also and above all Juliette Récamier (Paris, Carnavalet Museum) and Thérésia Cabarrus, comtesse de Caraman (Carnavalet Museum).
“Tall, beautiful, cold, the duchess impressed me greatly”
The Duchess of Bassano, a Leading Lady
The “Imperial” portrait of the Duchess of Bassano in 1812 is majestic. That’s an understatement, but it has less to do with the display of wealth in the interior, where the lady strikes a nonchalant pose, than with the way the artist looks at her. François Gérard does not paint a “femme de” (“a woman of”), but a femme de tête (leading lady). Duchess since 1809, this daughter of the Mayor of Dijon, who married a brilliant cousin — in turn diplomat, General Secretary to the Consuls, Secretary of State, Minister of Foreign Affairs from 1811 — took her time before fully asserting her role. The Duchesse d’Abrantès, who devotes a long passage to the duchess in her Memoirs, writes that “When she married, she didn’t like the court, to which she went almost in spite of herself”, but, “appointed Lady of the Palace during the Empire, she then became one [of its] ornaments”. “When M. de Bassano moved to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, his position and obligations changed, and Madame de Bassano was given a salon, but a unique one, like none we have ever seen before”. In the Hôtel de Gallifet, now the headquarters of the Italian Embassy, the Duchesse de Bassano entertained hundreds of guests, including all that “the court had to offer”, such as the painters Gérard and Gros, who were “very often” in attendance. François Gérard was a free spirit who found it hard to lie. Some seven years earlier, in painting Talleyrand’s new wife — in a pose that already foreshadowed the portrait of the duchess — the painter had conveyed the beauty of his face, but also his lack of passion for the young woman. The Duchesse d’Abrantès, provocative as ever, wrote of her: “We know how useful she was in a salon; the shepherdess in which she sat served more than she did, and, what’s more, said nothing. In 1812, Gérard also painted a portrait of Countess Walewska (Paris, Musée de l’Armée) returning from her walk, in a dress very similar to the one depicted here, but here again, he paid little heed to the imperial mistress’s poise: one had given in, the other had resisted! Georgette Ducrest recalls a colorful exchange between the Emperor and the Duchess, which was recounted to her. The Emperor tried everything with the lady, who declared: “I am forced to inform Your Majesty that if his pursuits do not cease immediately, I will inform of the whole matter to the man who will always be the sole object of all my affections. I know him well enough to be certain that he would immediately resign all his positions and leave the court with me. — He wouldn’t dare, Madame. — Your Majesty is mistaken; he will dare anything to escape the grief of being convinced of the ingratitude of the man he loves most.”
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François Gérard (1770-1837)
Queen Hortense’s Belt?
The choices are in keeping with the character. Marie-Madeleine Maret opted for a black velvet gown, no doubt in homage to the productions of her favorite couturier, Leroy. Its originality lay in the pattern of the belt, dotted with metallic sequins adorned with stars. The memoirs of Louise Cochelet, Queen Hortense’s reader, mention just such a belt: “The Queen was godmother to several children, including a daughter of the Duchess of Bassano, and a daughter of the Duchess of Frioul. The first was named Claire, and the second Hortense. To mark the occasion, the queen presented exquisite gifts to the mothers of her two goddaughters. The Duchess of Bassano received a chased belt in solid gold, beautifully crafted; it was wide around the waist, held in place by a colored stone clasp; the ends fell to the feet. The belt was the queen’s own design: it was a fashionable innovation, as people then wore small, narrow belts, because waists were short; this became a means of lengthening them a great deal.” As it happens, Hortense Eugénie Claire Maret de Bassano was born in 1812… François Gérard also played with the embroidery of palms and flowers on the gown, to which the bouquets on the console jardinière — a rare detail in his work — are painted in paste. Playfully, Gérard placed the duchess in dialogue with the winged female figure, as Antoine-Denis Chaudet’s La Paix responds to her husband in her portrait commissioned in 1806 from Robert Lefèvre by the General Intendance of the Emperor’s household, and given to the sitter by Louis XVIII in 1815 (Paris, Musée du Louvre). The other, exactly contemporary portrait of the Duchess of Bassano by François Gérard, in which she appears in a white dress adorned with gold embroidery, has yet to be found. This work is known only through its ricordo, preserved at the Château de Versailles alongside the one in the present painting.
Friday 06 December 2024 – 13:30 (CET) – Live
Salle 1-7 – Hôtel Drouot – 75009 Paris
Thierry de Maigret