The Art Of Jean Marc Nattier

( Originally Published 1902 )

ARSÉNE ALEXANDRE 'HISTOIRE POPULAIRE DE LA PEINTURE'

THE name Nattier calls up innumerable charming visions of pretty, blooming ladies with soft, caressing eyes, clad in the daintiest and most sumptuous gowns—gowns of velvets and silks and satins, gowns embroidered with gold and delicate with laces, gowns with the stiff bodices and swelling skirts of court or town, or those coquettish dishabilles which, if we are truly gallant, we will unquestioningly accept as the accredited garb of the Olympian goddesses and muses. Nor is the result less captivating when he clothes one of these delightfully frivolous little ladies in the tunic of a penitent Magdalene (a tunic, be it assured, of satin, and from the most fashionable tunic-maker, and which clings so coquettishly about her pretty limbs) and exiles her to a cave in the desert; and no less fascinating when he replaces the penitential tunic (ah! delicious little penitent—she has been careful not to forget her becoming court-plaster patches!) by the leopard's skin and quiver of the nymph a-hunting. How delicately graceful are these small heads, with the close-dressed powdered hair that gives them something charmingly boyish of aspect! They all wear, it may be, even the goddesses, a touch of rouge—perhaps the painter himself may have taught them how to lay it on most becomingly—but we acknowledge that it is quite in character and wholly deceptive. It is all, of course, as false, as theatrical, as one can well imagine, and yet somehow entirely unaffected and broadly simple. Reconcile the two if you can !

Casanova says that Nattier could paint an ugly woman, produce a perfect likeness, and yet make her beautiful. If he could he certainly solved a problem that has vexed artists since the beginnings of portraiture. We would not, however, be so ungallant as to suggest that he availed himself of this talent when he painted the numerous portraits of Louis XV.'s charming daughters, which are unquestionably his most important works. They hang, the gentle little ladies, unworthily, in the dusty galleries of Versailles, high up under the roof, in stifling heat in summer, bedewed with dampness in winter, with no care, apparently, for their rank, their delicate graces, or their fortunately solid painting. It seems strange that the authorities intrusted with these valuable pictures should be thus careless of them, since, in recent years at least, Nattier's work has been accorded the sincerest proofs of popular admiration. Whenever a picture of his has been sold it has fetched an extremely high price, and when one has appeared in a loan exhibition it has attracted much admiration.

In color, Nattier was fond of broad unbroken tones. Never was he more himself than when he had to paint a sweeping robe of rich blue bordered with fur, or a gown of warm, glowing red, shining here and there with gold; and yet, though he painted full colors without dulling them, he never made them garish. His eye for harmony was sure.

The quality of his talent is, as was his education, wholly French. The copies he made from Rubens' pictures were, his contemporaries assure us, far from being truthful renderings of the originals; and his journey to Amsterdam and The Hague was not undertaken because of an inclination to study Dutch or Flemish art, but solely to undertake commissions. His talent is peculiarly and thoroughly French in the fullest acceptation of the term. It is light of touch, graceful, easy, clear, and self-poised. Though he did not go beneath the surface, or attempt to portray character in his portraits, they are marked, one and all, with great charm, simplicity, harmonious effectiveness, perfect distinction, and true refinement.-ABRIDGED FROM THE FRENCH

ANDRÉ PÉRATÉ 'CHEFS-D' OEUVRE'

IN every one of Nattier's portraits, even those in which the subjects seem to have been most unpromising, we must admire the delicacy of modeling and the rich and subtle harmonies. In the eyes of this magician of the brush no woman could seem ill-favored--that she was a woman was enough for him. He once said to Casanova, and not without a touch of pedantry perhaps, "The gods have granted me a kind of magic—the power to transfer from my mind to my brush the divine charm of beauty,—a charm none can define, since none can tell wherein it lies, and yet one which all recognize and admire. But impalpable and fugitive as is the shade that separates beauty from ugliness, the effect of it is startlingly great to those who have no knowledge of our art."

This impalpable shade of separation betwixt ugliness and beauty vanishes under Nattier's brush. It fades beneath the witchery of a smile, the sparkle of a glance, the shimmer of gold-embroidered stuff's. His was the art of charm and grace; the art of creating fascination with a touch of rouge, and grace with a flowing line. FROM THE FRENCH

P.HÉDOUIN 'MOSAIQUE'

CELEBRATED as Nattier was in his own day, little information has come down to us concerning his life, and we find only brief mention of him by any of the eighteenth-century biographers; yet his art was more characteristic of that century than was that of any other French artist. With-out Nattier's portraits, indeed, how could we form any accurate idea of the pink-and-white complexions, the velvety cheeks, their fairness emphasized by tiny black patches of court-plaster, the ravishing eyes, and all the varied and coquettish costumes of the duchesses, the countesses, and the marchionesses —the fair charmers of the reign of Louis XV.?

Of that gay and brilliant world Nattier became the idol. Strong as this epithet is, it is nevertheless none too strong, for by all women, whether pretty or plain, he was known as "the Magician." It is easy to see why; for no painter ever succeeded so skilfully as he in not only concealing the defects of nature in his models, but in converting those very defects into charms. He knew how to give an interesting air to a plain face, a captivating vivacity to a dull blue eye, and to a bold black eye that was hard and forbidding he could impart so spiritual and tender an expression that the most timorous would be charmed. His brush, indeed, might be compared to the magic wand of Armida, for it bestowed beauty, grace, and piquancy upon every face that came under the spell of his enchantment; and perhaps the most wonderful thing about it all was that notwithstanding the flattering transformations which his models underwent, the resemblance which his portraits bore to their originals invariably remained striking.

If, however, I should be called upon to pass judgment upon Nattier as a painter, I should be obliged to admit frankly that in my estimation he is inferior to Rigaud and even to Largillière. He never possessed the force, scope, and style of the first of these portraitists, nor the breadth of execution nor unctuous coloring of the second. At first sight, it is true, Nattier's manner of painting has an exceptional fascination and charm. His touch was light and delicate, his color sparkling, and his draperies, painted in a way peculiar to himself, while they define the form beneath, float and flutter with an unparalleled airiness and grace. Finally, his compositions are always marked by both propriety and esprit. These qualities, however, are generally accompanied by a certain stiffness, a certain finical affectation, a studied and artificial air; and in consequence his portraits have none of that frankness, truth, and appearance of nature-that realism, in short—which are found in the works of the great masters.

As likenesses Nattier's portraits were said to be excellent, although it was admitted that he beautified even beauty itself. This method of painting, which contributed so largely to his success, especially among the ladies of the court, is not in my opinion true art as I understand the word. But after all, his talent, like that of the more gifted 'Watteau, was in perfect harmony with the spirit and the taste of the times in which he lived.

Nattier occasionally attempted historical painting; but there is nothing remarkable about any of his works in this kind that have come down to us. He lacked the boldness, force, and severe nobility which should characterize historical pictures, but painted them with the same delicacy and in the same somewhat affected manner as he painted the portraits of the pretty women of the court; and the very qualities that make these court portraits so indescribably charming become, in his historical efforts, serious faults.—FROM THE FRENCH

CHARLES BLANC 'HISTOIRE DES PEINTRES DE TOUTES LES ÉCOLES'

HE would paint an ugly woman and depict her features so accurately that the most scrupulous examination failed to discover any untruthfulness, yet nevertheless those who saw the portrait only would deem her beautiful. In some imperceptible way he had bestowed a real but undefinable beauty upon the whole." This is Casanova's dictum upon Nattier. The "imperceptible way" was the artist's gift of grace; a gift to which we owe so many charming portraits and so many charming painters of the French school.

Assuredly Louis XV.'s queen, Marie Leczinska, was not beautiful; she was the Cinderella of that brilliant court. Yet when we look at Nattier's portrait of her we find her charming, and marvel that those dimpled hands and rounded arms, as white as ivory, could not confine her flighty husband. When we recall her story, and remember how she was elbowed aside into the shadow, ever protesting from her obscurity, with a somewhat bourgeois prudery perhaps, against the follies of the butterfly life about her, and mark how the painter has somehow contrived, by the border of black fur which winds about the folds of her red velvet robe, to suggest her lifelong exile from her native Poland, the image of the queen takes on a strong fascination for us, and we pay tribute to the subtle art of the painter.

Nattier was never a great artist; but he was the painter of pretty women par excellence. If his drawing was slightly insipid and cold, his brush was endowed with suppleness and grace; and the harmony of his coloring is sometimes so remarkable that it produces the effect of those splendid ancient tapestries which, mellowed by time, have faded into a magical harmony. He was, nevertheless, in no wise afraid of pure colors, and boldly transferred to his canvases the vivid tones of the splendid stuffs with which the court ladies of his day were wont to adorn themselves,—the flame-color or bright greens of their ribbons, the violet or scarlet of their taffeta or velvet mantles, the blue or corn-color of their silks, and their white satins; but he blended, combined, and harmonized the strong tones so cunningly, and so warmed his chiaroscuro to meet them, that the effect is never harsh nor crude.

Costume played no less an important part in his canvases than in women's portraits by all artists, but he was by no means dependent upon the sheen of rich stuffs, the cloud of delicate laces, or the gleam of gold. Indeed he was especially fond of posing his sitters as mythologic or allegoric figures whose costumes counted but slightly, and such subjects are not the least delightful of his works; nor, in spite of their fantastic quality, do they cease to be truly historical in the broader Sense.—ABRIDGED FROM THE FRENCH

W. BURGER 'GAZETTE DES BEAUX-ARTS': 1860

JEAN-MARC NATTIER was a court painter with all the accomplishments and all the faults peculiar to that species of fashionable manufacturer. He imparted an appearance of youth and nobility to his models, frequently deviating from nature to bestow a sort of conventional flattery upon people to whom aristocratic birth had not always lent distinction or charm; and, as a natural consequence, his portraits are marked by no depth nor individuality of character.

All the princesses painted by Nattier so strongly resemble one another that they might easily be mistaken for one and the same. Upon leaving the gallery at Versailles, where so many of his portraits are collected, one remembers but a single face, a description of which would answer for the passport of any pretty woman,—a round face, a nose of no particular kind, a medium-sized mouth, and a pink-and-white complexion. Sometimes this same charming lady appears disguised as a vestal virgin seated in a temple near the sacred fire, and she is also to be met with under the titles of Mademoiselle de Lambesc as Minerva arming her young brother the Comte de Brionne, and Madame la duchesse d'Orléans as Hebe holding an urn of nectar in her hand. But Nattier was unquestionably an able artist, and painted with marvelous skill the gleaming satins, lustrous silks, and costly brocades—all the accessories in short, however trifling, that we see in his sumptuous and stately portraits.—FROM THE FRENCH

OLIVER MERSON 'LA PEINTURE FRANÇAISE AU XVIIe ET AU XVIIIe SIÈCLE'

NATTIER, whose fame was very great about the middle of the eighteenth century, and who was subsequently almost forgotten, seems to have recently sprung again into a singularly exaggerated popularity. His early vogue was due to the fact that, as Mariette puts it, "his method of painting charmed those, particularly the ladies, to whom fine colors and smooth finish were the first of things in art." They flocked to his studio, the fair ones and the plain; and, since even the ugly among them found that, by some miracle, they had become lovely on his canvases, it is not surprising that the gallant painter became the fashion. His trick of subtly flattering his sitters by representing them as Olympian goddesses added too to his popularity in that artificial age.

But times have changed; and it is difficult to account for the newly arisen vogue of our own day for Nattier. He has not one single quality of real eminence: his drawing is often incorrect, his technique without salient merit, his color lacks any unusual charm, novelty, or distinction, and his allegory seems to modern eyes little short of ridiculous. Surely the merit of having flattered his sitters, of having rouged their cheeks and brightened their eyes, seems hardly enough to set this "pupil of the Graces and painter of Beauty" above even the worthiest of his contemporaries.

Nattier had, be it admitted, moments of superiority, especially when, as portraitist to the royal house of France, he painted his noble portraits of the queen and princesses in court dresses or in the garbs of mythology. These works, if not of the sincerest art, are at least stamped with distinction and truly royal elegance.—FROM THE FRENCH

PAUL MANTZ 'GAZETTE DES BEAUX-ARTS': 1894

AT about the period when Nattier was at the height of his esteem with the fine ladies of Louis XV.'s court the witty Cochin was publishing' in the 'Mercure' a series of ironical essays hitting off the foibles of that frivolous world. One of these skits thus satirizes the contemporary fashion for allegorical portraits of women:

"Our ladies are represented," he writes, "almost indecently naked, their only garment a tunic, which leaves throats, arms, and legs uncovered. This garb, which is in reality none, is eked out by a piece of silk, blue, violet, or some other color, wrapped about them in such a way as to serve no useful purpose, although it must be cumbersome to wear nevertheless, since it contains many yards of fine stuff. Some of these ladies are crowned with blades of wheat or other such rustic adornments, most appropriately fastened with strings of rich pearls. Their most common amusement, it appears, is to lean upon earthenware pots filled with water which they are invariably tipping over, apparently for the purpose of watering the gardens at their feet. This leads us to believe that they must be unusually fond of horticulture-a supposition confirmed by the fact that they are always represented in the midst of the open country. Another favorite recreation with them seems to be the raising of birds, even of those sorts most difficult to tame, such as eagles, which we frequently observe them attempting to nourish with white wine out of golden cups. They seem, however, to be most thoroughly successful in the breeding of turtle-doves, for these gentle birds flutter about some of them, especially those of more melancholy humors, in great numbers."

Although Nattier is not named, it is clear that the writer's irony is directed at his portraits, with their diaphanous draperies, their flowing urns, their agricultural attitudes, and their Hebes attempting to "nourish eagles with white wine out of golden cups." But, if we must admit that Nattier's allegorical subjects are mere theatrical nonsense, we should remember that he was constrained by the fashion of his times. The painter Raoux had shown the way to Olympus before him, and had depicted Mlle. Prévost as a bacchante, Mile. Journet as a priestess of Diana, Mlle. Quinault as Amphitrite, as Silvia, and as Thalia, not to mention the host of actresses to whom such masquerading came more naturally. Nattier but carried the fashion further, and subpoenaed, as it were, all the fairer denizens of Olympus. How many noble ladies became Hebes, or Floras, or Auroras under his brush!—nay, even the most unoffending of the bourgeoises were transformed into muses at the very least. How many white-armed nymphs tilt urns to irrigate symbolic reeds !—for Nattier was allegorical even to his minor accessories; and never was there a more lavish use of turtle-doves and white-wine-nourished eagles than in his pictures.

To name all his shortcomings at once, we may as well confess that he was frankly a mannerist, and that instead of modifying his processes according to his models, and instead of searching for their individual characteristics, he preferred to adhere to his own rather limited type; that he was least successful in his portraits of men, since he so softened their features as to make them effeminate,—a tendency towards oversoftness for which he was not, however, wholly to blame, for it marked all the painting of his time. He seems, moreover—gallant courtier that he was—to have been unwilling to admit that any woman could be ugly, and was from first to last a persistent flatterer.

Admitting all these faults, however, I believe that we owe a long unpaid debt of recognition to Jean-Marc Nattier; and even at the risk of bringing down upon my devoted head the contempt of purists and of those enamored of the "grand style," I must frankly confess that I cannot join the ranks of those who scorn him. As a painter he possessed no mean ability; his coloring, at the very least, was always effective and agreeable, and he was undeniably the possessor of a most distinctive and individual quality of charm. Theatrical he was, it is true, but he was the court painter of a theatrical age; and we may well ask if, on the whole, the Court of Louis XV. could have found a better historian.—ABRIDGED FROM THE FRENCH