ROBERT NANTEUIL. JEAN LORET
Size of the original engraving, 10⅛ × 7⅛ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
The masterly portrait of Turenne, engraved in 1663, after a painting by Philippe de Champaigne, is one of the engraver’s most vigorous plates, of a size somewhat larger than had hitherto been his wont. From this period date the life-size portraits, thirty-six of which were completed before he died in 1678, the last four years of his life being devoted entirely to these large plates—seven of them of the King himself. They were obviously intended to be framed and hung above the high wainscots used in those times, and although they do not show Nanteuil at his best, and—in the majority of cases—are, in part, the work of assistants, they are a remarkable performance.
Nanteuil established the tradition of portrait engraving in France once and for all, and although his successors, profiting by his example, have left us many superbly engraved plates, none of them were able to combine the qualities of great engraver with great portraitist, which make Nanteuil supreme in the history of portrait engraving.
The nineteenth century has produced three master portrait etchers. Of what previous century can we say as much? Other portraits may possess more charm, but none have a greater measure of dignity than those by Alphonse Legros. He has been called a “belated old master,” and in his portrait plates are combined the qualities which prove him to be a master indeed—not old, in the sense of out of touch with his time, but displaying the same qualities which make the portraits of Rembrandt or Van Dyck so compelling and of such continuing interest.
Cardinal Manning—the triumph of spirit over flesh—simple, austere; G. F. Watts, in which the gravity and beauty of old age is portrayed as no one since Rembrandt has portrayed it, are plates which will assure his artistic immortality.
Mr. Whistler, when asked which of his etchings he considered the best, is reported to have answered, “All.” Fortunately for us, in the case of his portraits he has indicated his preference. “One of my very best” is written beneath a proof of Annie Haden, now in the Lenox Library; and Whistler, in the course of conversation with Mr. E. G. Kennedy, told him that if he had to make a decision as to which plate was his best, he would rest his reputation upon Annie Haden. It is the culmination of that wonderful series to which belong such masterpieces as Becquet, Drouet, Finette, Arthur Haden, Mr. Mann and Riault, the Engraver. Whistler himself never surpassed this portrait, which for perfect balance, certainty of hand, and sheer charm, is not only one of the most delightful portrait plates in the history of the art, but one of the few successful representations of the elusive charm of young girlhood.
J. A. McN. WHISTLER. ANNIE HADEN