Jean-Etienne Liotard
A young Gentleman, wearing mole-coloured coat with silver buttons, white shirt and stock, white lace cuffs, his hair powered and tied with a black ribbon, a bicorn hat under his arm, c. 1753-55
Watercolour and bodycolour on vellum
Oval, 2 in. (51 mm) high
Philip Mould & Co.
To view all current artworks for sale visit philipmould.com We are grateful to Dr. Bodo Hofstetter for confirming the attribution of this miniature in correspondence with the previous owner....
To view all current artworks for sale visit philipmould.com
We are grateful to Dr. Bodo Hofstetter for confirming the attribution of this miniature in correspondence with the previous owner.
The Swiss artist Jean-Etienne Liotard, who painted this delicate portrait miniature, was a master of varied media – and he excelled in them all. As Christopher Baker points out, ‘Liotard does not fit neatly into the predetermined categories that have so often come to define art history’.[1] Liotard’s technical accomplishments – battling the challenges of rendering portraits with equal flair in pastel, portrait miniature (watercolour on vellum or ivory) and enamel – singled him at as unique within the swarm of portrait painters operating in the mid-eighteenth century.
Portrait miniatures, although rare in his oeuvre, suited Liotard’s forensically observed likenesses. Although only 34 miniatures are presently known, [2]Like John Smart (1741-1811), born almost forty years later, Liotard appears to have delighted in rendering every detail of a sitter’s face, focussing on irregularities. In The Gentleman's and Connoisseur's Dictionary of Painters, Matthew Pilkington wrote of Liotard’s portraits as an ‘exact imitation of life and nature'.[3] His lack of flattery is most evident in his numerous self-portraits, where in 1770 (at the age of 68) he showed himself laughing, his teeth rotten, his wrinkles creasing around his eyes and mouth.
No such irregularities can be seen in the current portrait miniature, of a young man, wearing a mole-brown coat, with silver buttons, his bicorn hat tucked under his arm. Liotard arrived in London in 1753, and it is likely that this portrait was painted between that date and his departure in 1755.[4] Liotard’s arrival in England came at a time when he was already well-known but was bolstered by sitters wishing to see him in person, partially to admire his appearance of Turkish costume and a beard which he had grown to his waist.
The sitter here is in a pose similar to that adopted at the time by patrons of Sir Joshua Reynolds (see, for example Reynolds’s portrait of George, Prince of Wales, circa 1759, Royal Collection, London). It may be that Liotard was adapting his somewhat unconventional style to fit the accepted standard of British portrait miniatures, for which there was a long national tradition. The sitter here holds, his hat under his arm, as seen in Liotard’s drawing of his fellow Genevan Jacob Tronchin (circa 1758) and others.[5] Liotard’s first training in Geneva was as a miniaturist and enameller, so it is perhaps no surprise that he felt entirely comfortable in this medium. During his time in Paris, where he lived from 1723, he was apprenticed for three years to Jean-Baptiste Massé (1687-1767), a portraitist and miniaturist.
For those lucky enough to sit to Liotard during his time in London, their portraits were highly prized. This is reflected in the expense of some of the original settings that survive – for example, a gold mounted, carved ivory snuffbox which houses the enamel of John Spencer, 1st Earl Spencer, from circa 1753-55.[6] The pair of portraits of Julie de Thellusson-Ployard and her husband, Isaac-Louis de Thelluson, drawn in pastel on vellum in 1760, show the couple flirtatiously wearing each other’s portrait miniatures in the year of their marriage – hers set into a diamond bracelet, his in a ring on his little finger. This gives some idea of how the present miniature may have been set originally – either in a jewelled locket or possibly in the lid of a snuffbox.
It is not surprising that Liotard’s portrait miniatures were often carefully framed by their new owners, as his prices far surpassed most portrait painters of the time (in any medium). Horace Walpole, who had already commissioned works from Liotard in Paris prior to the arrival of the artist in London, commented; ‘From having lived in Constantinople he wears a Turkish habit and a beard down to his girdle: this and his extravagant prices, which he has raised even beyond what he asked at Paris, will probably get him as much money as he covets for he is avaricious beyond imagination.’[7]
This understated portrait is an important addition to the small number of extant miniatures by Liotard’s hand. The portrait shows the artist’s distinctive way of working – using watercolour and bodycolour in the manner of a pastel. Although at present the sitter is unknown, the portrait also communicates something of Liotard’s extraordinary ability to convey the sitter’s character through their physiognomic features – something which Horace Walpole used (often to damming effect) to draw conclusions on the personality of those portrayed.
[1] C. Baker and D. Bull, Jean-Etienne Liotard: 1702-1789, London, Royal Academy of Arts, 2015, p. 13.
[2] M. Roethlisberger and R. Loche, Liotard, Doornspijk, 2008, p. 103.
[3] M. Pilkington, The Gentleman's and Connoisseur's Dictionary of Painters, London, 1770, p. 351.
[4] The dating of this miniature is based on the costume of the sitter. Although it is not possible to be precise, the costume is close to that seen on George Walpole, 3rd Earl of Orford (1730-1791), in his miniature portrait by Liotard dated 1751 (sold Christie’s, London, 20 November 2013, lot 204.
[5] Sotheby’s, London, Master Works on Paper from Five Centuries, 26 January 2022, lot 43; for another example, in miniature, see the work on vellum of an unknown young Gentleman, circa 1750, sold Sotheby’s, The Pohl-Ströher Collection of Portrait Miniatures, Part 1, 6 December 2018, lot 44.
[6] This enamel miniature is part of the Rosalind and Arthur Gilbert Collection, on loan to the Victoria and Albert Museum [Gilbert 408-2008].
[7] Letter to Horace Mann, Walpole, Correspondence, 20:362.
We are grateful to Dr. Bodo Hofstetter for confirming the attribution of this miniature in correspondence with the previous owner.
The Swiss artist Jean-Etienne Liotard, who painted this delicate portrait miniature, was a master of varied media – and he excelled in them all. As Christopher Baker points out, ‘Liotard does not fit neatly into the predetermined categories that have so often come to define art history’.[1] Liotard’s technical accomplishments – battling the challenges of rendering portraits with equal flair in pastel, portrait miniature (watercolour on vellum or ivory) and enamel – singled him at as unique within the swarm of portrait painters operating in the mid-eighteenth century.
Portrait miniatures, although rare in his oeuvre, suited Liotard’s forensically observed likenesses. Although only 34 miniatures are presently known, [2]Like John Smart (1741-1811), born almost forty years later, Liotard appears to have delighted in rendering every detail of a sitter’s face, focussing on irregularities. In The Gentleman's and Connoisseur's Dictionary of Painters, Matthew Pilkington wrote of Liotard’s portraits as an ‘exact imitation of life and nature'.[3] His lack of flattery is most evident in his numerous self-portraits, where in 1770 (at the age of 68) he showed himself laughing, his teeth rotten, his wrinkles creasing around his eyes and mouth.
No such irregularities can be seen in the current portrait miniature, of a young man, wearing a mole-brown coat, with silver buttons, his bicorn hat tucked under his arm. Liotard arrived in London in 1753, and it is likely that this portrait was painted between that date and his departure in 1755.[4] Liotard’s arrival in England came at a time when he was already well-known but was bolstered by sitters wishing to see him in person, partially to admire his appearance of Turkish costume and a beard which he had grown to his waist.
The sitter here is in a pose similar to that adopted at the time by patrons of Sir Joshua Reynolds (see, for example Reynolds’s portrait of George, Prince of Wales, circa 1759, Royal Collection, London). It may be that Liotard was adapting his somewhat unconventional style to fit the accepted standard of British portrait miniatures, for which there was a long national tradition. The sitter here holds, his hat under his arm, as seen in Liotard’s drawing of his fellow Genevan Jacob Tronchin (circa 1758) and others.[5] Liotard’s first training in Geneva was as a miniaturist and enameller, so it is perhaps no surprise that he felt entirely comfortable in this medium. During his time in Paris, where he lived from 1723, he was apprenticed for three years to Jean-Baptiste Massé (1687-1767), a portraitist and miniaturist.
For those lucky enough to sit to Liotard during his time in London, their portraits were highly prized. This is reflected in the expense of some of the original settings that survive – for example, a gold mounted, carved ivory snuffbox which houses the enamel of John Spencer, 1st Earl Spencer, from circa 1753-55.[6] The pair of portraits of Julie de Thellusson-Ployard and her husband, Isaac-Louis de Thelluson, drawn in pastel on vellum in 1760, show the couple flirtatiously wearing each other’s portrait miniatures in the year of their marriage – hers set into a diamond bracelet, his in a ring on his little finger. This gives some idea of how the present miniature may have been set originally – either in a jewelled locket or possibly in the lid of a snuffbox.
It is not surprising that Liotard’s portrait miniatures were often carefully framed by their new owners, as his prices far surpassed most portrait painters of the time (in any medium). Horace Walpole, who had already commissioned works from Liotard in Paris prior to the arrival of the artist in London, commented; ‘From having lived in Constantinople he wears a Turkish habit and a beard down to his girdle: this and his extravagant prices, which he has raised even beyond what he asked at Paris, will probably get him as much money as he covets for he is avaricious beyond imagination.’[7]
This understated portrait is an important addition to the small number of extant miniatures by Liotard’s hand. The portrait shows the artist’s distinctive way of working – using watercolour and bodycolour in the manner of a pastel. Although at present the sitter is unknown, the portrait also communicates something of Liotard’s extraordinary ability to convey the sitter’s character through their physiognomic features – something which Horace Walpole used (often to damming effect) to draw conclusions on the personality of those portrayed.
[1] C. Baker and D. Bull, Jean-Etienne Liotard: 1702-1789, London, Royal Academy of Arts, 2015, p. 13.
[2] M. Roethlisberger and R. Loche, Liotard, Doornspijk, 2008, p. 103.
[3] M. Pilkington, The Gentleman's and Connoisseur's Dictionary of Painters, London, 1770, p. 351.
[4] The dating of this miniature is based on the costume of the sitter. Although it is not possible to be precise, the costume is close to that seen on George Walpole, 3rd Earl of Orford (1730-1791), in his miniature portrait by Liotard dated 1751 (sold Christie’s, London, 20 November 2013, lot 204.
[5] Sotheby’s, London, Master Works on Paper from Five Centuries, 26 January 2022, lot 43; for another example, in miniature, see the work on vellum of an unknown young Gentleman, circa 1750, sold Sotheby’s, The Pohl-Ströher Collection of Portrait Miniatures, Part 1, 6 December 2018, lot 44.
[6] This enamel miniature is part of the Rosalind and Arthur Gilbert Collection, on loan to the Victoria and Albert Museum [Gilbert 408-2008].
[7] Letter to Horace Mann, Walpole, Correspondence, 20:362.