Portrait of Jean-Louis Brousse-Desfaucherets by Marie-Guillemine Benoist: The Lost Painting from the 1806 Salon
This key work, presented in the Salon of 1806 by Marie-Guillemine Benoist, has remained since that period with the heirs of the model: Jean-Louis Brousse-Desfaucherets, a successful playwright championed by the Comte de Provence, Deputy Representative of the Third Estate of Paris and theater censor during the Empire.
Estimate: €120,000/150,000
Marie-Guillemine Benoist is the only pupil mentioned by Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun in her Souvenirs. Undoubtedly the most gifted, Marie-Guillemine Le Roulx de La Ville came from a family that considered the arts important. However, her father, director of the King’s Saltworks and assistant to the Farmers General administration, mentioned in the mid-1780s the “various circumstances” that had “altered [his] fortune instead of increasing it,” presenting his daughters’ artistic inclinations as a means of compensating them “for the good [he] could only have garnered for them by failing in [his] duties.” In 1786, the Mercure de France wrote of the time the young woman spent in David‘s studio. The rest is history. Her father had to defend himself against the intense displeasure of the Superintendent of the King’s Buildings, who disapproved of the master’s admission of women, but Marie-Guillemine Benoist stayed the course. She was constantly accused of using David’s help when she exhibited Innocence Vetween Vice and Virtue (private collection) at the 1791 Salon, and, at the following Salon, Psyche Bidding Her Family Farewell (San Francisco, Legion of Honor: see Gazette 2020 no. 20), when a critic wrote: “I would only say this of the famous artist: Miss So-and-so & Co. In truth, it takes considerable boldness to publicly exhibit works executed by umpteen hands.” Later, before one of her portraits, another critic exclaimed, ”It is worth mentioning that David did most of the portrait in question. It is pretty clear that in this little business, Madame Benoist is merely a figurehead.”
The Shadow of David
The fascination exerted by Marie-Guillemine, who became Madame Benoist in 1792, grew steadily over the years. The creator of the 1800 Portrait of a Black Woman (Paris, Musée du Louvre) was much talked about in the early days of the Empire, as Pierre-Jean-Baptiste Chaussard said in 1806 in Le Pausanias Français: “Madame Benoist’s talent and her admirable portraits are enough to arouse keen interest; but when we remember that she is the new Émilie of one of Dorat’s successors, the amiable Demoustier, who composed his Letters on Mythology to her (and was cut down, like Johannes Secundus, before his time), this interest is further spiced by curiosity, and doubled when we learn that she has since linked her fate to that of a man of letters, known for his fine translations and administrative work, and lastly, that she is one of Mr. David’s most esteemed pupils.” The gold medal at the 1804 Salon and a commission for a portrait of the First Consul certainly put paid to the endless rumors of David’s possible involvement in her works. The artist matched the ingenuity of Baron Gérard and effortlessly established herself as his rival.
The artist matched the ingenuity of Baron Gérard and effortlessly established herself as his rival.
Critics greeted her portraits with increasing acclaim: “an audacity and vigor that seem to illustrate the hand of a man long practiced in history painting;” “the overall quality and the exact relationship, age and movement of each character are, as we know, the signs of a true history painter.” With the Portrait of a Man, in which viewers and critics easily recognized the features of Jean-Louis Brousse-Desfaucherets, the painter achieved even further recognition. In the Gazette de France, art lovers read the following: “Madame Benoist, accustomed to receiving praise and applause during recent exhibitions for the grace, freshness and smooth, soft coloring of her fine portraits of women, is sure to enjoy a similar response this year for works of a different kind. I will mention, first and foremost, the portrait of the author of The Secret Marriage. Its striking resemblance is not its only merit: this painting is remarkably striking for its, warm, true colors, firm, broad touch, well-conceived layout and simple, natural manner. You would think it to be by one of our leading painters, who has, so to speak, tossed something off with ease in having to draw only a portrait.” Pierre-Jean-Baptiste Chaussard also referred to David: “The execution is so compelling that if this painting were anonymous, one would instantly attribute it to one of David’s most gifted pupils.” Marie-Guillemine Benoist’s debt to the Portrait of Cooper Penrose (San Diego, Timken Museum of Art) is obvious, but far from shameful, as references of this kind are common in the history of art. Now highly experienced, she perhaps felt stimulated by allusions of this kind, which might seem shocking today. In the 1804 Portrait of Baron Larrey (Toulouse, Musée des Augustins), the 1807 Portrait of Raphaël de Casabianca (Bayeux, Musée Baron Gérard), and that of Félix Baciocchi in 1806 (Rome, Museo Napoleonico), the artist matched the ingenuity of Baron Gérard and effortlessly established herself as his rival. At the peak of her art, she above all reveled in a power she lacked in her early days, particularly in her famous self-portrait, which shows her painting the figure of Belisarius (Karlsruhe, Staatliche Kunsthalle).
From Writer to Censor
Frédéric de Clarac rightly highlighted this “vigor” and Pierre Jean-Baptiste Chaussard appreciated this same “unusually firm stroke”, but the most interesting angle chosen by the artist — the sensitivity of the man of letters — was barely mentioned. With a few touches of white under the model’s eyes and a subtle flush on his cheeks, Marie-Guillemine Benoist shows the delicacy of a person who chose the famous Mariage Secret of his early days as his only claim to fame. The painter, her model and the public remembered not only the action taken by the Comte de Provence to overcome the reluctance of the Comédie-Française (which refused to perform the play) and its presentation at Fontainebleau, but also the topical subject matter: the love between a couple whose families opposed their union. Perhaps other, more recent disputes had prompted Jean-Louis Brousse-Desfaucherets to emphasise his status as a writer, especially as the story had a certain irony: he was now himself in charge of censoring his fellow students. By turning to Charles-Albert Demoustier’s “Émilie”, he indicated the long way he had come since his beginnings. Apart from the likeness, a true portrait painter will capture these unspoken aspects, impressions and the subject’s inner aspirations. Marie-Guillemine Benoist needed little effort to convey the truth, as her own story was as turbulent as that of her models: they had all feared for their lives during those revolutionary years. Whether crowned heads like Napoleon’s sister Elisa, Grand Duchess of Tuscany (Lucca, Villa Guinigi Museum) or simply writers now protected from the vicissitudes of the theater world, like Jean-Louis Brousse-Desfaucherets, they seemed — despite their origins and the treacherous times — to enjoy the benefits and peace of the “initial” First Empire. The portrait of the 1806 Salon is also a historical painting that tells the history of French society since 1789 through the personal story of one man.
Thursday 10 April 2025 – 09:30 (CEST) – Live
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Thierry – Lannon & Associés
