It is interesting to notice how keen the artist was that the plates should be satisfactorily printed on a special kind of paper for an edition of “Les trois femmes.” The long letter relating to this happens to be in existence, and no doubt many another, even more lengthy and detailed, was written by Choffard, who generously dealt out valuable advice to author and publisher. In this instance, as no doubt in all Choffard’s correspondence, the proposals he makes are worded so tactfully as to leave the reader under the impression that the artist is quite willing for his advice to be disregarded. Choffard’s sensitive refinement must indeed have been visible in many ways besides in his art.
Although “enfant des quaies,” as he called himself, yet this self-educated genius had innate refinement and possessed a marvellous power of discrimination and judgement how best to treat delicate passages, intricate subjects, and uninteresting themes, whether the composition had to be confined to the minute dimensions of a tiny fleuron or whether the subject was to occupy a folio page.
“Notice sur l’art de la gravure en France” came from the pen of Choffard. The engraver resented his own art lacking an historian, and therefore became its champion. Had not voluminous books been published on painting and sculpture, yet the sister art had only incidental remarks passed upon it? To fill this void, there appeared in 1804 a little volume written concisely by an eminently capable judge of the talents of past and contemporary engravers. Choffard shows remarkable fairness in dealing with draughtsmen of different styles, of many lands, and of varied temperaments, and is broad-minded in all matters where our countrymen are not concerned. It is only natural that a Frenchman should look on his British neighbours with a frown in the eventful year when Napoleon was elected emperor! Great as were Choffard’s anti-British prejudices, it must be admitted that they did not prevent him from praising the talent of Ryland, and of mentioning the names of many other British engravers. Now and again, in perusing the pages of the little book, one alights on a date which is at variance with our modern historians’ statements, a fact that is hardly worthy of mention, considering exactitude troubled eighteenth-century writers far less than it does contemporary biographers in these scientific days.
The charming vignette Choffard executed for his volume is said, by some, to represent the artist, as a young man, in his studio and would suffice to make the book live and be collected, whatever may be its literary merits or demerits. It is curious to note that a host of the artist’s illustrations are contained in works wholly unworthy of Choffard’s great results, or else they illustrate literature that is very little read in modern times.
Pierre-Philippe Choffard was an exceptionally prolific artist, and, as has been said before, loved his work passionately. An hour before his death he still had his thoughts bent on art and sent to fetch paper on which to draw a reduction of a picture by Legrand. The dying artist had formed the resolution to write a more extensive work than his first successful “Notice” on the art of engraving, and this reduced plate would have been contained within its pages had fate been kinder.
On the seventh day of the month of March in the year 1809 the world lost its greatest “maître ornemaniste” by the death of Pierre-Philippe Choffard.
The eighteenth century was a period when letter-writing, diaries, and memoirs were greatly in vogue; yet rarely on these milestones of the past appears the name of Choffard, proving how uneventful must have been his life. Notwithstanding this probable fact, we cannot but regret that our artist did not leave his life impressions, which would have been full of interest, since he met and associated with all the leading talent of his day.
