Parisian private collection since 19th century ;

Sotheby's, London, Treasures, 6 July 2016, lot 29.

RELATED LITERATURE

A. Foray-Carlier et M. Kopplin, Les secrets de la laque française : Le vernis Martin, Paris, 2014.

M. Kopplin, European Lacquer: Selected Works, London, 2010.

R. Causa, Il presepe cortese, dans “Civiltà del Sett꧃ecento a Napoli 1734-1799”, II, 1980, pꦜp. 291-299.

R. De Simone, Il presepe popolare napoletano, 1998.

This painting, a true rarity of its kind, is an extremely refined and sophisticated object, primarily because of the technical processes used to create it. Starting from the lower part, small fragments of mother-of-pearl are incorporated into the paint, creating an effect of iridescent brilliance and luminosity. In addition, the painter applied the color to the entire painted surface in successive layers, using an amalgam of pigments mixed with gold and silver dust, giving the composition an unusual luminosity and airiness that contrasts deliberately with the blackness of the blue-night hue of the background. The servants' swords, the shell-shaped cartouche, the structure of the palanquin and many other details are inlaid with mother-of-pearl decorated with tiny “engraving” decorations, while the ogives at the base of the obelisk are made of gilded metal inclusions: The inclusion of t♎hese rare and precious materials undeniably helps to refine the object and make it a work of refined gold smithery, even more than a work of extraordinary 💃pictorial quality.

The subject of the painting is in keeping with the typical eighteenth-century taste for exotic representations, inspired by an imagined rather than actually known Orient, made up o👍f enchanting atmospheres and scenarios populated by emperors, dignitaries and servants, dressed in opulent multicolored robes and posing with an accentuated, almost caricat𝔍ure-like gestural expressiveness.

A production between Naples and Paris

Given the technical devices, the use of rare organic materials, the type of wood used for the support (walnut), the variation in style and, the particular subject of the representation, the work could be traced back to Italy, and in particular Naples. In fact, in the first half of the 18th century, the Neapolitan city, along with Venice, prided itself on the primacy of diplomatic and economic-commercial relations with the Ottoman Empire and, further east, with the Empire of the Rising Sun. In the political sphere, we need only recall the stipulation of the Treaty of Constantinople between the Kingdom of Naples and the Ottoman E🍨mpire (1741) and the arrival in Naples of El Haji Hussein Effendi and Mustafa Bey, the Sultan's ambassadors extraordinary. The magnificence of the robes, the armament of the horses, the extravagant gifts from the Sultan to the King, including an elephant, giraffes and monkeys; the festivities, processions and parades organized in the city, offered the Neapolitan population a kaleidoscopic image of an oriental world that, until then, had only been vaguely idealized. Naples played a leading role in spreading the new fashion for ‘Turqueries and chinoiseries’, which invaded furniture, objects and paintings and contaminated all the cultural expressions of the time, starting with theatre. In this respect, it is possible that the physiognomies of the Oriental characters in the painting were borrowed from the theatrical representations in vogue in Naples in the second half of the eighteenth century, inspired by Oriental dances. The Neapolitan origin of the object can also be advanced in terms of the subject represented, which is said to take the form of a particular variation of the ‘Georgiana’, an episode of oriental origin that contaminated Neapolitan nativity scenes during the 18th century: Circassian slaves (characterized by their corpulence, shaven heads and long moustaches) from the Caucasian regions, depicted as black or white depending on the interpretation, follow diaphanous princesses with delicate, feminine features, dressed in sumptuous gowns.

But there is another technical interpretation of this object, according to Mr. Sybe Wartena, senior curator of the furniture department at the Bayerisches Nationalmuseum in Munich. Gilding applied in a structured, marbled manner, either with shell gold or with gold leaf flakes, finds parallels in the French tradition of Vernis Martin. The application of mother-of-pearl inlays and fretworked fine metal motifs is common in Vernis Martin, but less so in imitations of Far Eastern lacquers beyond France. The use of metal inlays is unusual in all lacquer traditions, but at least one comparable object can be traced in the Parisian world using Vernis Martin: a solid mother-of-pearl snuffbox, inlaid with an ornamental frame of lozenges with interlaced flowers, dated 1747 (see M. Kopplin, European Lacquer: Selected Works, London, 2010, p. 180). 

Finally, the panel features a rather unique technical element: the application of ground mother-of-pearl scattered over the landscape floor. This is reminiscent of the metal powder of various sizes used in aventurine lacquer, very common in Vernis Martin. There is an interesting coincidence between the theme aᩚᩚᩚᩚᩚᩚ⁤⁤⁤⁤ᩚ⁤⁤⁤⁤ᩚ⁤⁤⁤⁤ᩚ𒀱ᩚᩚᩚnd one of the main areas of activity of the Vernis Martin workshops: the decoration of carriages and sedan chairs. The representation could allude to the field linked to this luxurious technique.

The composition is close to the decors designed by French painters such as François Boucher and Jean-Baptiste Pillement, who fused the elegant, carefree world of the rococo with the mysterious world of the Far East, and which were widely disseminated throughout Europe. Their work, moreover, involved freeing the repertoire of motifs from the tradition of Far Eastern models and turning towards a purely French lacquer style, mainly through the creation of pastoral, mythological and gallant scenes. Two pure⭕ly technical features of the panel point to a Parisian origin: the labels on the back. One oval label, probably dating from the second h🌠alf of the 19th century and reading ‘Emballeur Pape 5, Rue de la Terrasse, Paris’, proves that it was in Paris at the time, while the other, square, hand-cut and damaged label reads in handwriting: ‘Panneau Femme dans un Palanquin’ and numbers (inventory or room). The handwriting could well be from the 18th century and the paper is very worn.