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Provenant d'une collection privée
Marie Laurencin (1883-1956)
Femme à la rose blanche
Details
Marie Laurencin (1883-1956)
Femme à la rose blanche
signé et daté 'Marie Laurencin 1928' (en bas à droite)
huile sur toile
55.2 x 46.3 cm.
Peint en 1928
signed and dated 'Marie Laurencin 1928' (lower right)
oil on canvas
21¾ x 18¼ in.
Painted in 1928
Femme à la rose blanche
signé et daté 'Marie Laurencin 1928' (en bas à droite)
huile sur toile
55.2 x 46.3 cm.
Peint en 1928
signed and dated 'Marie Laurencin 1928' (lower right)
oil on canvas
21¾ x 18¼ in.
Painted in 1928
Provenance
Galerie Paul Rosenberg, Paris.
Galerie de l'Elysée, Paris.
Collection particulière, Europe; vente, Christie's, Londres, 24 juin 1997, lot 218.
Acquis au cours de cette vente par le propriétaire actuel.
Galerie de l'Elysée, Paris.
Collection particulière, Europe; vente, Christie's, Londres, 24 juin 1997, lot 218.
Acquis au cours de cette vente par le propriétaire actuel.
Literature
D. Marchesseau, Marie Laurencin, Catalogue raisonné de l'œuvre peint, Tokyo, 1986, vol. I, p. 213, no. 464 (illustré).
Further Details
Dans son Carnet des Nuits, à la fois ouvrage autobiographique et recueil de ses poèmes, Marie Laurencin avoue son attachement à la tradition symboliste qu’elle découvre notamment dans sa jeunesse à travers la lecture des Fleurs du Mal de Charles Baudelaire. Sensible aux symboles des parfums, des fleurs, de l’exotisme et des couleurs, elle teinte sa peinture de cette influence moderne tout en gardant une réserve presque classique. Dans la présente œuvre transparaissent également des réminiscences de sa période espagnole – lorsqu’elle fuit la Grande Guerre accompagnée de son mari le peintre et pacifiste allemand Otto de Waetjen – souvenirs suggérés par le voile, la mantille, la rose et le motif du vêtement de la jeune fille qui rappelle les tissus mauresques. Toutefois, la figure se fait ici plus paisible que dans ses œuvres des années 1914-20, moins grave, plus empreinte du style enfantin que l’artiste développe pendant les années folles. Dans un style légèrement fantaisiste, elle pare désormais ses modèles de fleurs, de plumes, de perles et de rubans. Ici, une femme gracieuse au sourire énigmatique semble rêver, tandis que la palette délicate irise la toile de ses couleurs pastel. Au milieu de ce visage diaphane, deux grands yeux noirs paraissent faire entrer le spectateur dans le secret autant qu’ils le défendent.
In her Carnet des Nuits, which is both an autobiographical work and poetry collection, Marie Laurencin professes her affection for the symbolist tradition she had discovered in her youth when reading Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Baudelaire. She was attached to the symbolism in perfumes, flowers, exoticism and colours a modern influence which she incorporated in her painting while exercising nearly classical reserve. This work also reveals glimpses of her Spanish period, when she and her husband were fleeing World War I: these memories are suggested by the veil, the rose and the pattern on the young woman’s garment which calls to mind Middle-Eastern fabrics. The figure here, however, is more peaceful than in her works produced between 1914 and 1920...less serious, more infused with the childish style the artist developed during the Roaring Twenties. In a slightly whimsical style, she began adorning her models with flowers, feathers, beads and ribbons. Here, a graceful woman with an enigmatic smile seems to be dreaming, while the pastel hues of the delicate palette lend an iridescence to the canvas. In this middle of her diaphanous face, two big black eyes appear to draw the viewer into her secrets as much as they forbid it.
In her Carnet des Nuits, which is both an autobiographical work and poetry collection, Marie Laurencin professes her affection for the symbolist tradition she had discovered in her youth when reading Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Baudelaire. She was attached to the symbolism in perfumes, flowers, exoticism and colours a modern influence which she incorporated in her painting while exercising nearly classical reserve. This work also reveals glimpses of her Spanish period, when she and her husband were fleeing World War I: these memories are suggested by the veil, the rose and the pattern on the young woman’s garment which calls to mind Middle-Eastern fabrics. The figure here, however, is more peaceful than in her works produced between 1914 and 1920...less serious, more infused with the childish style the artist developed during the Roaring Twenties. In a slightly whimsical style, she began adorning her models with flowers, feathers, beads and ribbons. Here, a graceful woman with an enigmatic smile seems to be dreaming, while the pastel hues of the delicate palette lend an iridescence to the canvas. In this middle of her diaphanous face, two big black eyes appear to draw the viewer into her secrets as much as they forbid it.
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Anika Guntrum