There is a quaint little story concerning the inception of the Saxe Memorial which happily illustrates the mood in which Pigalle designed the work. The Marshal’s reputation for gallantry was by no means confined to military affairs. He was, perhaps, the only commander who ever entered into a campaign accompanied by a first-rate opera company. Pigalle was well aware of this. That no side of the dead commander’s character might be unrepresented, he added the figure of Love with torch reversed. “The Marshal cared equally for love and war. Love must figure among the mourners,” he explained. The Marshal’s friend objected, and finally Louis XV. was asked to intervene. To satisfy all parties, the King decreed that Cupid should wear a helmet—“the insignia of the genius of war,” as he explained. But Pigalle was not to be moved, “Aujourd’hui,” he said; “je plie, mais je me redresserai bientot.”
It will be seen that Pigalle proved right. To this day Love is without his helmet. Moreover, the tiny god is perhaps the most charming figure in the great monument, a lasting reminder that the genius of the eighteenth-century sculptor dealt more naturally with the dainty and the graceful than with the great and the sublime. Pigalle’s own reputation depends much more upon his charming “[Mercury putting on his Sandal]” (The Louvre) than it does upon the far more ambitious memorial at Strasbourg. This is equivalent to saying that Pigalle was at his best when he was most interested. The same remark applies to his fellow sculptors. Seeing that men’s interests had moved in the direction of the boudoir, a boudoir art naturally followed.
The demand for smaller works increased as the eighteenth century went on. No sculptor reached the height attained by Watteau and Fragonard in the sister art of painting, but an immense amount of fine sculpture was produced.
The typical Louis Quinze and Louis Seize style is well represented by the work of the Parisian sculptor, Etienne Maurice Falconet (1716-1791), a pupil of Lemoyne. His “[L’amour Menaçant]” is a charming instance of the skill with which the eighteenth-century sculptors adapted themselves to the wider range of subjects created by the new demand.
HOUDON
DIANA (BRONZE)
Louvre, Paris
Falconet shows the god of Love, with a finger of caution at his lips. The idea of the hand slyly stealing round to the quiverful of arrows slung across his shoulder is expressed with delightful art. The dainty work is remarkable for its grace and the vivacity of expression animating it. It is significant that the work was commissioned by Madame de Pompadour in 1756.
Two more sculptors call for notice before we close this chapter—Clodion and Houdon. Both were followers of Pigalle and both lived to a good old age and worked well into the nineteenth century. But in essence their work was dominated by the factors which moulded the rest of the sculpture of Louis XV. and Louis XVI.