Gaspard Dughet

Italian Landscape with Jack Players, a painting by Gaspard Dughet (1615 - 1675)

1656-1657

This painting, created during Zuccarelli's stay in England, represents the decisive moment when Macbeth, together with Banquo, meets the three witches who announce that he will be Ki...

In this painting, Gabriel de Saint-Aubin, the great chronicler of the reign of Louis XV, takes us to the annual parade of the Swiss Guards at the Plaine de...

This small landscape shows a hunting scene: two riders are chasing a stag with their dogs at the edge of a forest. Signed by Peter von Bemmel, it is typical of the production of this...

This replica of the last self-portrait of Jean-Baptiste Greuze painted in 1804, executed by his daughter Anna at her father's side and recently rediscovered, provides us with a poignant image of the great artist, represented with panache despite the disillusions of life. 1. Jean-Baptiste Greuze Jean-Baptiste Greuze was the sixth child of a roofer from Tournus and retained a certain rusticity in his behaviour from his provincial childhood, beyond his taste for describing picturesque scenes of the countryside. He initially started training with a little-known painter from Lyon, Charles Grandon, before his genius was recognised in Paris where he became a full-time student of the Académie (of Painting) in 1755. He exhibited his work for the first time at the Salon during the summer of 1755, before leaving on a trip to Italy in the company of Louis Gougenot, abbot of Chezal-Benoît. Upon his return to Paris, Greuze became a prolific painter, participating widely in the Salons held between 1759 and 1765, to which he sent no less than 63 paintings: numerous genre scenes (The Marriage Contract, The Beloved Mother), but also portraits of his family circle, of courtiers and art lovers, or of his colleagues. The Academy closed the doors of the Salons to him in 1767 for not having produced his reception piece within six months of his reception, as was the tradition. He worked actively on this painting (Emperor Severus rebukes Caracalla, his son, for trying to assassinate him ) until the summer of 1769, tackling historical and mythological subjects for the first time. Once this was completed, he was then fully admitted to the Academy, but as a genre painter, and not as an historical painter, which had been one of the greatest humiliations of his life. Greuze then refused any participation in events organised by the Academy or its successor, the Academy of Fine Arts until 1800. Abandoning history painting, he gave a new twist to genre scenes, bringing them closer to history painting, as in this pair of canvases which constitutes some of his masterpieces: The Paternal Curse: The Ungrateful Son and The Paternal Curse: The Punished Son . Married in 1759 to Anne-Gabrielle Babuti, the daughter of a Parisian bookseller, his marriage was unhappy and his wife probably frequently unfaithful. The institution of divorce enabled him to record their separation in 1793, keeping his two daughters Anna-Geneviève, born in April 1762, and Louise-Gabrielle, born in May 1764, with him. Little is known about his daughter Anna except that she was herself a painter and lived with her father until his death. It is likely that most of the paintings she produced up to that date were attributed to her father, whose technique she shared to a great extent, making it extremely difficult to establish an autonomous corpus of her paintings. Greuze died in his studio at the Louvre on March 21st 1805. The attention paid to the expressivity of his characters and the emotional charge they convey enabled Jean-Baptiste Greuze to enjoy immense popularity with the eighteenth-century public, and they still constitute Greuze's true modernity. As the artist said, "I dipped my brush in my heart". Greuze was also an exceptional draughtsman and a portraitist of immense talent and exceptional longevity who painted both the Dauphin (the son of Louis XV and father to Louis XVI) and the young Napoleon Bonaparte. 2. Greuze's self-portraits Greuze was very much influenced by Dutch paintings during all his life. While the source of his inspiration for genre scenes can be found in Gerard Dou...

In this masterly painting, Francesco de Mura presents the meeting of Herminia and the shepherds, a famous episode taken from the seventh canto of Torquato Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered...

Provenance: Dukes of Marlborough Collection, Blenheim Palace until its sale at Christie's London on 26 July 1886 (lot 172) English private collection until its sale at Christie's London on 11 December 1992 (lot 363) Erna Weidinger Collection (1923 - 2021) - Austria Literature : Georg Scharf - A list of the pictures in Blenheim Palace - Catalogue raisonné Part 2 - London 1862 (page 166 - number 199 "after Palma Giovane") Charles Davies...

Simone Cantarini (Pesaro 1612 - Verona 1648) Adoration of the Magi Oil on paper applied to canvas, cm. 16,5 x 24 – with frame cm. 22 x 29 Antique sh...

Adam-Frans van der Meulen (Bruxelles, 1632 - Paris, 1690) Louis XIV and his army at the crossing of the Rhine 12 June 1672 Signed A.F VANDERMEULEN at the right low corner Oil on can...

The splendour of the tragic sea Francesco Guardi and maritime painting in Venetian art No Venetian painter was a stranger to the sea. After all, Venice was not only one of the most prominent ports of the Mediterranean, but indeed a city literally submerged in the ocean from time to time. Curiously however, the famous Venetian school of painting showed little interest in maritime motifs, favouring scenes from the iconic architecture of the city rather than seascapes. That is why this painting is a particularly interesting window into not only the painter Francesco Guardi himself – but to the significance of the element of water in art history, in absence as well as in the centre of attention. Whether it be calm, sunny days with stunning views of the palaces alongside the canals of Venice or – more rarely – stormy shipwrecking tragedies at sea, water as a unifying element is integral to the works of painter Francesco Guardi (1712–1793). During his lifetime, Venetian art saw many of its greatest triumphs with names like Tiepolo or Canaletto gaining international recognition and firmly establishing Venice as one of the most vibrant artistic communities of Europe. While the city itself already in the 18th century was something of an early tourist spot where aristocrats and high society visited on their grand tour or travels, the artists too contributed to the fame and their work spread the image of Venice as the city of romance and leisure to an international audience, many of whom could never visit in person. Still today, the iconic image of Venice with its whimsical array of palaces, churches and other historic buildings is much influenced by these artists, many of whom have stood the test of time like very well and remain some of the most beloved in all of art history. It was not primarily subtility, intellectual meanings or moral ideals that the Venetian art tried to capture; instead it was the sheer vibrancy of life and the fast-paced city with crumbling palaces and festive people that made this atmosphere so special. Of course, Venice could count painters in most genres among its residents, from portraiture to religious motifs, history painting and much else. Still, it is the Vedutas and views of the city that seems to have etched itself into our memory more than anything else, not least in the tradition of Canaletto who was perhaps the undisputed master of all Venetian painters. Born into his profession, Francesco lived and breathed painting all his life. His father, the painter Domenico Guardi (1678–1716) died when Francesco was just a small child, yet both he and his brothers Niccolò and Gian Antonio continued in their fathers’ footsteps. The Guardi family belonged to the nobility and originated from the mountainous area of Trentino, not far from the Alps. The brothers worked together on more challenging commissions and supported each other in the manner typical of family workshops or networks of artists. Their sister Maria Cecilia married no other than the artist Giovanni Battista Tiepolo himself, linking the family to the most renowned Venetian name of the time. During almost a decade, Guardi worked in the studio of Michele Giovanni Marieschi, sometimes simply known as Michiel, a painted similar in both style and motif. Canaletto is, however, the artist Guardi is most often compared to since they shared a mutual fascination for depicting the architecture and cityscape of Venice. During the course of his career, Guardi tried his hand in many different genres. He was as swift in painting landscapes, Vedutas of Venice, sacred motifs, interiors and architectural compositions as he was in a number of other motifs. His style is typical of the Venetian school but also distinct and personal once we look a little closer. There is an absolute certainty in the composition, the choice of which sometimes feels like that of a carefully calculated photograph – yet it is also very painterly, in the best sense of the word: fluid, bold, sensitive and full of character. The brushwork is rapid, intense, seemingly careless and extraordinarily minute at the same time; fresh and planned in a very enjoyable mixture. His interiors often capture the breath-taking spacious glamour of the palaces and all their exquisite decor. He usually constructed the motif through remarkably simple, almost spontaneous yet intuitively precise strokes and shapes. The result was a festive, high-spirited atmospheric quality, far away from the sterile and exact likeness that other painters fell victim to when trying to copy Canaletto. The painting here has nothing of the city of Venice in it. On the contrary, we seem to be transported far away into the solitary ocean, with no architecture, nothing to hold on to – only the roaring sea and the dangerous cliffs upon which the ships are just moments away from being crushed upon. It is a maritime composition evoking both Flemish and Italian precursors, in the proud tradition of maritime painting that for centuries formed a crucial part of our visual culture. This genre of painting is today curiously overlooked, compared to how esteemed and meaningful it was when our relationship to the sea was far more natural than it is today. When both people and goods travelled by water, and many nations and cities – Venice among them – depended entirely on sea fare, the existential connection to the ocean was much more natural and integrated into the imagination. The schools and traditions of maritime art are as manifold as there are countries connected to the sea, and all reflect the need to process the dangers and wonders of the ocean. It could symbolize opportunity, the exciting prospects of a new countries and adventures, prospering trade, beautiful scenery as well as war and tragedy, loss of life, danger and doom. To say that water is ambivalent in nature is an understatement, and these many layers were something that artists explored in the most wondrous ways. Perhaps it takes a bit more time for the modern eye to identify the different nuances and qualities of historic maritime paintings, they may on first impression seem hard to differentiate from each other. But when allowing these motifs to unfold and tell stories of the sea in both fiction and reality – or somewhere in between – we are awarded with an understanding of how the oceans truly built our world. In Guardi’s interpretation, we see an almost theatrically arranged shipwrecking scene. No less than five ships are depicted right in the moment of utter disaster. Caught in a violent storm, the waves have driven them to a shore of sharp cliffs and if not swallowed by the waves, crushing against the cliffs seems to be the only outcome. The large wooden ships are impressively decorated with elaborate sculpture, and in fact relics already during Guardi’s lifetime. They are in fact typical of Dutch and Flemish 17th century ships, giving us a clue to where he got the inspiration from. Guardi must have seen examples of Flemish maritime art, that made him curious about these particular motifs. One is reminded of Flemish painters like Willem van de Velde and Ludolf Backhuysen, and this very painting has indeed been mistakenly attributed to Matthieu van Plattenberg...

Remembering the magic of everyday life moments in the art of David Teniers: The art of David Teniers the Younger (1610–1690) coincided with the heyday of the Flemish Baroque and captured a great variety of motifs of his time. In this painting of a seemingly simple peasant scene lies keys to understanding both the imaginative mind of Teniers as well as why this time period produced some of the most iconic works in all of art history.  As indicated by the name, Teniers was more or less born into his profession. As the son of David Teniers the elder, himself a painter who studied under Rubens, the younger David received training in art from a very young age and had no less than three brothers who also became painters. Because of his father’s frequent financial failures that even at times saw him imprisoned, David the younger helped to rescue the family from ruin through painting copies of old masters. Essentially, the young Teniers was confronted with painting as both a passion and creative expression as well as a necessity during difficult times, an experience that would shape much of his capacity and sensitivity in his coming life. Despite the hardships, the talent and determination of Teniers was recognized and quickly expanded his possibilities. He had already spent time in France and possibly also England when he was hired by his father’s former teacher Rubens to help with a prestigious commission with mythological paintings, now considered lost, for Philip IV the king Spain. In 1644–54 Teniers was appointed dean of the Antwerp Guild of Saint Luke, manifesting his esteemed position within the artistic community. A few years afterwards he took an important step when relocating to Brussels, where Teniers yet again found new career opportunities that would prove to be very successful. As the keeper of the collections of Archduke Leopold Wilhelm, a role similar to what we now refer to as an art advisor, Teniers purchased hundreds of important artworks that manifested the prominent status of the Archduke’s collection while at the same time providing an unusual access to inspiration and knowledge for Teniers himself. Since he kept on painting during the same time, his creative scope must have seemed almost bewildering in the great variety of images and stories that he surrounded himself with.  Regardless of how glamorous and culturally stimulating the career of Teniers was, he was as open to the charm and existential importance of everyday life as he was to works of great masters and luxurious collectibles. In his impressive repertoire of genres with everything from exquisite royal portraits, interiors, landscapes and history paintings he always added something new and inventive, highlighting the possibilities of art and importance of an experimental and intuitive mind. It is difficult to single out one aspect or genre to summarize his legacy, since it lies much more in the broad virtuosity across many motifs, although he is particularly remembered for farm scenes and meticulously depicted interiors where other paintings and artworks are captured with an astonishing precision. However, the fact that he is still today one of the most known and celebrated names of the Dutch Golden Age is a proof to the magic of his work, which continues to spark dialogue and wonder in the contemporary viewer of his works. The farm boy in the field in this painting, which likely dates to the mature part of his career, is a wonderful entry into the mind of Teniers. In the tightly cropped motif, we see him standing right in the middle of the busy harvest when men, women and everyone capable were sent out in the field to collect the crop that formed the very core of their diet and survival. In the background we see a fresh blue sky interspersed with skillfully painted clouds, some trees reaching their autumnal colours and in the far distance the glimpse of a small church and village. The presence of a church in a landscape, so typical of Dutch art, served both a symbolic and visual function as a representation of faith while at the same time defining scale and distance. In the field, the work is in full action with the farmers spread out in various positions, all in the midst of hard and sweaty labour. While they are portrayed as having nothing else than the work on their mind, our farm boy seems to have his attention directed elsewhere. Standing there with his white, half open shirt, flowy curls and strong, sturdy body; his gaze is directed away, out of the picture and the scythes in his hands. He looks almost smirking, expressed with tremendous subtlety in the slight smile of his lips and big eyes, being just in the middle of losing focus on the work. What is it that steals his attention? What has he seen, or realized, or felt – to break him free of the arduous task of harvesting, if but for a moment? Here starts the wondering and the questions that are the hallmark of a great piece of art. Instead of explicitly locking in the motif in overly clear symbolism Teniers has chosen an open ended, subtle yet striking moment for us to consider. While it of course can be related to numerous other farm scene depictions of this time, and clever usages of gazes and real-life scenes to underscore various moral or symbolic meanings, the painting can be much more of a contemplation than an explanation or illustration. The ordinary nature and understated yet emotionally textured composition of the motif gives greater space for our own reactions and thoughts. Has he seen a pretty farm girl just passing by? Is he fed up with the farm life, joyously dreaming away for a minute, imagining another future? Or is he simply in need of distraction, looking away and ready for anything that can steal his attention? One quality that never seem to have escaped Teniers was that of curiosity. During all of his career he constantly investigated, expanded and experimented with not only the style and technique of painting, but with the vision of art itself. Being credited with more or less introducing farm motifs for a broader audience not only tells us of his ability to understand the demand for different motifs, but the sensitivity to transform seemingly ordinary parts of life into deep aesthetic experiences, far beyond their expected reach. The farm boy in this painting is, of course, exactly that. But with the help of one smirk the entire picture is charged with a different energy, awakening many contrasts and relationships between the calm landscape, the hard work and his own breach of effectivity, holding sharp scythes while thinking or seeing something else. It is no wonder Teniers chose to work with farm scenes as a way of investigating these intricate and delicate plays on expectations and surprises, clarity and ambivalence. It invites us to an appreciation of human everyday life that connects us with the people of 17th century...

David Teniers the Younger (1610-1690) Follower of A Peasant Removing a Plaster: The Sense of Touch signed T on the table oil on panel panel size 7,20 x 5,55 inches (18,3 x 14,4 cm)...

We are delighted to present a significant piece from the Dutch School, most likely dating back to the late 17th century. This captivating painting showcases the dynamic force of nature with three ships vigorously navigating through stormy waters. The foreground is a scene of nautical struggle, as figures are depicted working intensely with the sails, steering, and bracing against the tumultuous sea. In the serene background, the silhouette of a quaint town emerges, with spires from churches and the outlines of various buildings is visible. This juxtaposition of the calm town against the chaotic foreground serves as a powerful reminder of the unpredictability of life and nature. Dominating the canvas, the sky occupies two-thirds of the painting, filled with brooding clouds that occasionally break to reveal patches of blue. The presence of birds adds a dynamic element to the otherwise ominous atmosphere. While the artist remains unknown, the work is quintessentially Dutch in its execution, with meticulous attention to detail and a profound understanding of maritime life. The painting's oval shape is quite distinctive and is complemented by a suitably antique octagonal black frame, which adds to its historical charm. This piece is a testament to the mastery of Dutch maritime painting...