François-Thomas Germain, Firedog, 1757.

Bronze gilt, 59 x 60 cm. Musée du Louvre, Paris.

 

 

We must not omit Gallien, who modelled and executed several clocks of great size and showy design for the king, intended for the decoration of the state apartments of the royal palaces. The keepers of the king’s privy-purse gave him the order to design, cast and chase the superb clock on the mantelpiece of the Cabinet du Conseil at Versailles, when it was being renovated in 1756. It represented France, governed by wisdom and crowned by victory, extending her protection to the arts. Gallien was paid 6,500 pounds. We have an authentic account of the admiration it excited in the memoirs of the Duke of Luynes.

The charges of caprice and exaggeration may, no doubt, be urged against the bronzes of the Regency and Louis XV. The abuse of contorted endive, medallions with fantastic curves, and shells rolled in curious undulations is apparent. However, we find rich details in the candlesticks, candelabras, wall-light brackets, andirons, and other fireplace ornaments; they were so well-treated and spiritual in their whimsical eccentricity that the voice of criticism is silenced. We reach a time, though, in which all of this fancy exuberance was disciplined and toned down. Madame de Pompadour was tormented with dreams of the antique, and at her suggestion appeared the first seeds of the reform that will continue under Louis XVI. The change is notable enough that it was thought worthy of an especially distinctive name, the artistic favourite had the prudence to choose that of genre à la reine.

The Louis XVI bronzes require no description; they are easily recognised among all others, even by the least experienced, with their delicate intertwined groups to support the numerous stems which unroll their foliated scrolls and bloom into flowers that serve as sconces for innumerable lights. These cherubs are playing among garlands of flowers and acanthus whose numerous folds have the pliant grace of vegetable fibres. All this fine jewellery ornamentation rivaled other pieces and was made even softer due to the use of gold matte, which subdued the metallic glare. This type of polished and refined style harmonised well with that which Marie Antoinette sought to introduce. Placed upon the tables, delicate consoles, and mantelpieces of white marble, these bronzes beautifully accompanied the dainty porcelains of Sèvres, Dresden, and India. Certainly there is a wide difference between this triviality and the robust science of the 16th century, but in says a lot about the polished gallantry and we can see the last smiles on a society about to disappear in a storm of bloodshed.