Painting of the Day: Portrait of a Lady called Jeanne de Marigny, 1650-1660

Portrait of a Lady Called Jeanne de Marigny
1650-1660
Either Charles Beaubrun or Henri Beaubrun or both
The Victoria & Albert Museum

This elegant painting of a richly dressed woman is curious in a variety of ways. To begin with, though the painting is said to be of a woman named Jeanne de Marigny, no one is quite sure who she is. No other portraits of the sitter survive, no are any records of her to be found.


Another odd thing about this painting is that it has been attributed to two artists and may be the work of one of them or both of them. Said to be the work of Charles Beaubrun and/or Henri Beaubrun, the canvas shows hallmarks of the hand of both artists. The Beaubrun were cousins—both of whom worked in the courts of Louis XIII and XIV and are virtually indistinguishable in both style and subject matter.

Nevertheless, it’s an exquisite painting and though we don’t really know who she is or who painted her, this canvas is an interesting glimpse into the style and fashion of the Seventeenth Century France.

Her Majesty’s Furniture: The Tulip and Crown Cabinet, 1780

Cabinet
French
Gobelins Workshop, Adam Weisweiler
1780
The Royal Collection

From the Gobelins (an interesting name) Workshop in Paris, this remarkable hardstone inlay cabinet is the work of famed cabinet maker Adam Weisweiler. An intricate puzzle of Oak, ebony, hardstones, tortoiseshell, brass, pewter, mahogany, boxwood, purplewood, gilt bronze, brocatello marble, this handsome cabinet caught the eye of King George IV while still the Prince of Wales.


It is said that the Prince of Wales was drawn to the pattern of tulips and crowns. However, it’s more likely that he was attracted to the cabinet because of his love of French craftsmanship. Regardless of his reasons, it was a smart purchase, and though it was packed away for many years, it now is one of the centerpieces of the furniture exhibit of The Royal Collection.

Painting of the Day: “The Alarm; La Gouvernante Fidèle,” 1723



The Alarm
Jean-Francois de Troy
1723
The Victoria & Albert Museum





One of the most popular painters of Parisian court life, Jean-Francois de Troy was just as celebrated for his skill as he was for his slightly tawdry subject matter. This is an excellent example of some of Troy’s romantically-charged handiwork.


Here, we see a scene of two lovers sharing a clandestine meeting in a garden. Their rendezvous is interrupted by a wild-eyed maid whose come to communicate something to her mistress. Perhaps her husband has returned, perhaps her father, perhaps, even, his wife.

With a typically Eighteenth Century color palette of russets, blues, pinks and greens, the painting is alive with color and motion and feels just as vibrant as they day it was completed in 1723.

Treat of the Week: Perfect Profiteroles

A profiterole, known in the U.S. as a cream puff, or, in France as a “choux à la crème,” is a delicious pastry shell filled with rich French pastry cream. The shell of the cream puff is formed from choux paste which is piped onto a baking sheet and then puffed during the baking process. Choux paste (Pâte à choux) is the term given to a type of pastry dough which contains butter, water, flour and eggs and puffs due to its high moisture content as opposed to a rising agent such as yeast. This process has been employed by bakers since the mid Sixteenth Century.


The hollow pastry balls are filled with pastry cream (sometimes whipped cream, ice cream or even a savory Pâte can be used). The profiterole can be topped with a glaze of chocolate or caramel, powdered sugar, fruit or other frostings. When a group of profiteroles is assembled into a pièce montée, it is called a croquembouche. Croquembouches are often served at weddings and on Christmas in France.

It’s been a long time since my mother has prepared some of her magnificent cream puffs, so the appearance of these profiteroles was an especially nice surprise this weekend. With their delicate French pastry cream and tender choux shell (there’s a tongue twister), they’re perfect already, but even more so when topped with a lovely chocolate ganache.

If you’d like to try your hand at making profiteroles, you can find a variety of online recipes. Select the one that most appeals to you, and then try some different fillings. You can’t go wrong.

 

The Art of Play: A Rare Antique Sand Toy, 1850-1870

Sand Toy
French, 1850-1870
Gerard Camagni
The Victoria & Albert Museum

This unusual and exceptionally beautiful toy dates between 1850 and 1870 and comes from France. Sand toys are particularly rare—prone to damage from wet weather and their fragile natures.


Sand toys function by the power of falling sand which is distributed through a complicated system of hoppers and paddle wheels which served to “animate” a paper figure within a glass case. Given the nature of the mechanism, sand toys didn’t function very well except in extremely dry weather. They were very often broken from the shaking of frustrated children who wanted to mechanism to work in all conditions.

This exquisite toy of glass, paper and wood is intricately decorated and features a figure of a woman in Eighteenth Century dress. Upon the release of the sand, she dances within her glass case.

Remarkably undamaged, this beautiful antique is part of the collection of the Victoria & Albert Museum.

Precious Time: The Apollo Clock, Late Seventeenth Century



Clock
French
Late Seventeenth
Century
The Royal Collection



King George IV—even as a young prince and Prince Regent—had an insatiable desire to collect objects, especially those related to King Louis XIV of France and Versailles. His lust took Charles Foster Kane-like proportions, so much so that he often never even displayed the items which he collected, but kept them in storage after spending thousands of pounds on them. Was he a Royal hoarder or just passionate? We’ll never know. However, looking at his huge assemblage of items, we do know that he had very good taste.

George IV had such a desire to collect that he was known, as one does, to send his staff members out shopping for him. A favorite was His Majesty’s pastry chef, François Benois who often shopped for the Prince Regent/King. On one of his shopping expeditions in Paris, Benois came upon this important tall-case clock which had belonged to King Louis XIV as evidenced by Louis’ emblem, the mask of Apollo, which is nestled into the elaborate cresting of the case. Of course, Benois knew he had to return with this rather enormous timepiece and took great pains in doing so.

Upon arrival at Carlton House, this late Seventeenth Century clock—which George IV was said to greatly admire—was packed away in storage, never being displayed. Unlike Louis XIV, George IV had space issues in his residences. Presumably Louis never ran out of room at Versailles, but Carlton House wasn’t without its limits. Why George IV didn’t use this clock at the Brighton Pavillion, we’ll never know. However, it’s long life in storage has preserved it quite well so that future generations will be able to enjoy its magnificence.