The Memoirs of Madame Vigée LebrunVigée-Lebrun, Louise-Elisabeth
History
The Memoirs of Madame Vigée Lebrun
Vigée-Lebrun, Louise-Elisabeth
Painters -- France -- Biography; Portrait painting, French -- 18th century; Vigée-Lebrun, Louise-Elisabeth, 1755-1842
My mother was now proud of my face and figure; I was growing stouter,
and presented the fresh appearance proper to youth. On Sundays she
took me to the Tuileries. She was still handsome herself, and after
the lapse of all these years I am free to confess that the manner in
which we were so often followed by men embarrassed more than it
flattered me. Seeing me so irremediably affected by our cruel loss, my
mother deemed it best to take me out of myself by showing me pictures.
Thus we went to the Luxembourg Palace, the gallery of which then
contained some of Rubens's masterpieces, as well as numerous works by
the greatest painters. At present nothing is to be seen there but
pictures of the modern French school. I am the only painter of that
class not represented. The old masters have since been removed to the
Louvre. Rubens has lost much by the change: the difference between
well or badly lighted pictures is the same as between well or badly
played pieces of music.
We also saw some rich private collections, none of which, however,
equalled that of the Palais Royal, made by the Regent and containing a
conspicuous number of old Italian masters. As soon as I entered one of
these galleries I at once became exactly like a bee, so much useful
knowledge did I eagerly gather while intoxicated with bliss in the
contemplation of the great masters. Besides, in order to improve
myself, I copied some of the pictures of Rubens, some of Rembrandt's
and Van Dyck's heads, as well as several heads of girls by Greuze,
because these last were a good lesson to me in the demi-tints to be
found in delicate flesh colouring. Van Dyck shows them also, but more
finely. It is to these studies that I owe my improvement in the very
important science of degradation of light on the salient parts of a
head, so admirably done by Raphael, whose heads, it is true, combine
all the perfections. But it is only in Rome, under the bright Italian
sky, that Raphael can be properly judged. When, after years, I was
enabled to see some of his masterpieces, which had never left their
native home, I recognised Raphael to be above his high renown.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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