777 - Bust of Madame Chauvire(?), after Jean-Baptiste Pigalle (1714–1785) Sculpture in terracotta.

Bust of Madame Chauvire(?), after Jean-Baptiste Pigalle (1714–1785) Sculpture in terracotta. Base in brecciated marble in white and bordeaux tones. France, 19th century. (minor losses to the patina) H.: 72 cm Essay: Madame Chauvire (?) A terracotta bust in the style of Jean-Baptiste Pigalle and eighteenth-century revivalism Among the works that MATER is offering for sale at its inaugural auction is a female bust, in patinated terracotta, set upon a turned plinth of brecciated marble. The young woman depicted turns her head slightly to the right; on her face, the introspective gaze and reserved smile convey the figure’s demure expressiveness, which the sculptor contrasts with the restrained sensuality of a suggestively bare bosom. Her hairstyle, piled high and encircled by a star-adorned diadem, flows into wavy locks that cascade in voluminous strands over the nape of her neck and her right shoulder; the bodice with its gathered pleats and the cloak draped à l’antique – a device that sets the subject apart from the fashion of the time – complete a figure whose attire embodies conventions common in eighteenth-century French sculptural portraiture,1 as seen in busts by masters such as Lemoyne, Pajou, Caffieri or Houdon. The reverse, treated only superficially and marked by spatula strokes, reveals a work intended for frontal viewing within a domestic setting. In its materiality, this bust encapsulates the imagery of the French court portrait of the second half of the eighteenth century and, simultaneously (as will be seen), the obsession with which the elites revived it in the following century. It is, in all likelihood, a nineteenth-century copy of a terracotta bust attributed to Jean-Baptiste Pigalle (Paris, 1714–1785), now in the collection of the Michele and Donald D’Amour Museum of Fine Arts in Springfield (Massachusetts, USA), in which tradition identifies Madame Elise Chauvire (?) 2, a figure of obscure biography, on whom we shall dwell later. A comparison between the two examples – in terms of composition, the modelling of the hair, the arrangement of the folds and even the treatment of the reverse side – leaves no room for doubt as to the direct affiliation of the bust now presented with the model held in Massachusetts; however, the differences in execution and surface finish, discussed below, place it at a later date, which we believe can be pinned down to the nineteenth century. A descendant of a line of master cabinetmakers based in Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs (Paris)³, Jean-Baptiste Pigalle trained under Robert Le Lorrain (1666–1743) and, from 1734, at the Académie Royale de Peinture et de Sculpture, which he entered through the influence of Jean-Baptiste Lemoyne, his mentor and lifelong friend⁴. Having completed his training, at his own expense, within the circle of the Académie de France in Rome⁵, he presented his admission piece in 1744 – *Mercure attachant ses talonnières*⁶ – and was then admitted as a full member of the Academy (having been provisionally admitted in 1741). His career spanned major monumental projects, such as the mausoleum of Marshal de Saxe (Strasbourg, 1753–1776) or the monument to Louis XV (Reims, 1765), and more intimate works, exemplified by the bust of Madame de Pompadour (marble, 1748–51) ⁷, the Self-Portrait or the daring Nude Voltaire (marble, 1776)⁸: portraits in which Pigalle reveals a disconcerting naturalism, attentive to the character of his subjects, with whom he almost always maintained friendships or personal affinities⁹. Terracotta occupies, in this context, a place of choice. A material, by definition, for sketches10 (or rough sketches11), terracotta had, at least since the late 17th century, been a source of attraction for various collectors12, who sought in the clay – as opposed to the coldness of marble, produced by commissioned artists – ‘le feu et le véritable talent de l’Artiste’, as La Live de Jully¹³ remarked regarding his collection of models. It was in France, throughout the 18th century, that this form of collecting found its most intense expression. In this context, moreover, the very status of terracotta underwent a transformation as it gradually became a medium for compositions on gallant themes – nymphs, bacchantes, satyrs – or for certain genres of figurative sculpture, such as the portrait bust, intended for private enjoyment¹⁴; many of the terracottas by Claude Michel, known as Clodion (1738–1814), are no longer, for example, models for a subsequent stage of the composition, but autonomous works which, although moulded, retained the appearance of freshly modelled clay – a characteristic of sculpture produced for luxury consumption, within a culture of growing commercialisation¹⁵. It was within this world that the female terracotta portrait flourished, featuring a bare bosom¹⁶ and drapery à l’antique: a formula that deliberately suspends the sitter between the