.jpg?w=1)
.jpg?w=1)
.jpg?w=1)
拍品專文
In a three-year span, from 1785 to 1788, Angelica Kauffman took up the ancient Roman subject of Cornelia, Mother of the Gracchi on three occasions in history paintings made for three distinguished patrons. In Naples in 1785, she painted the subject for her most important British patron, George Bowles (today in the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, Richmond). The success of Bowles’s painting prompted Caroline, Queen of Naples, to commission a second version of the composition as a gift for her sister, Maria Christina, Archduchess of Sachsen-Teschen (today in the Schlossmuseum, Kunstsammlungen zu Weimar). Finally, Kauffman painted her third and final essay on the subject – the present picture – for Prince Stanislaus Poniatowski of Poland when he visited Rome in 1788. While the painting for the Queen of Naples replicates that made for Bowles almost exactly – save for the composition being reversed – Poniatowski’s painting differs in significant ways from the earlier depictions.
The 1st-century Latin author Valerius Maximus (4:4) recounts the tale of Cornelia, Mother of the Gracchi. Second daughter of the Roman general Scipio Africanus. Cornelia was the widow of Tiberius Sempronius Gracchus, a Roman senator. She was renowned for her modesty and virtue. Cicero praised her gifts as a writer, and fragments of letters reputed to be from her hand are preserved in Nepos. She bore twelve children, three of whom reached maturity: a daughter, Sempronia, and two sons, Tiberius and Caius.
The ancient account tells of Cornelia being visited by an ostentatious Camparian matron who, after displaying her splendid jewelry, entreated the Roman widow to favor her with an exhibition of her treasures. With that, Cornelia welcomed her two sons declaring: 'These are the only jewels which I can boast.' Scorning vanity in favor of maternal devotion to her children and pride in their excellent upbringing made Cornelia a popular symbol of feminine virtue and a favorite subject of late eighteenth-century Neoclassical painting.
In the present work, Kauffman sets the scene in a severe, windowless stone interior. Cornelia stands, slightly right of center, addressing her celebrated rebuke to the opulently dressed matron who sits to her left, an open jewel box resting on her lap. Cornelia reaches out her arms toward her two sons who enter the room holding hands and carrying scrolls and schoolbooks. The picture displays the artist’s style at its most elegantly restrained and austere and is among her most classicizing works, its shallow space, warm coloring and spare figural arrangement reflecting her knowledge of Pompeiian wall paintings. The most significant change that Kauffman makes between the present painting and her previous renderings of the subject is in the pronounced role given to Cornelia’s dutiful daughter, Sempronia, who sits at a small table between her mother and her returning brothers, toward whom she casts her gaze. She holds a distaff, and beside her is a basket of needlework, symbolic of the domestic arts, attributes often given to Cornelia herself. Notably, the girl is not mentioned by Valerius Maximus, whose text served as Kauffman’s source, and is rarely featured prominently in depictions of the subject. Thus, Cornelia’s gesture may be understood to include her daughter among her treasures, as well as her sons.
The completion of the painting for Prince Poniatowski was noted by the artist in her Memorandum of Paintings in January 1788, along with a pendant representing Brutus Condemning his Sons to Death for Treason (today lost). Evidently, Kauffman intended the pairing to contrast the joys of virtuous Roman motherhood, represented by Cornelia, with the tragic responsibilities of virtuous Roman fatherhood, as seen in the story of Lucius Junius Brutus, who made the fateful decision to order the execution of his beloved sons for the crime of treason against the state.
Cornelia’s three surviving children grew to be exemplars of the Roman virtues their mother instilled: Sempronia married the Roman hero, Scipio Aemelianus, while Tiberius and Caius became senators who championed the cause of radical agrarian reform and gave their lives resisting anti-republican forces. Their history may have appealed to Kauffman’s patron, as Prince Stanislaus Poniatowski (1754-1833) — Polish nobleman, diplomat and nephew of the last king of Poland – was himself a liberal activist who advocated for the emancipation of the serfs and issues of agricultural reform.
Dr. Bettina Baumgärtel has confirmed this work will be included in the upcoming catalogue raisonné on the artist. We are grateful to Professor Wendy Wassyng Roworth for her assistance cataloging this lot, as well as her support for the attribution on the basis of photographs.
The 1st-century Latin author Valerius Maximus (4:4) recounts the tale of Cornelia, Mother of the Gracchi. Second daughter of the Roman general Scipio Africanus. Cornelia was the widow of Tiberius Sempronius Gracchus, a Roman senator. She was renowned for her modesty and virtue. Cicero praised her gifts as a writer, and fragments of letters reputed to be from her hand are preserved in Nepos. She bore twelve children, three of whom reached maturity: a daughter, Sempronia, and two sons, Tiberius and Caius.
The ancient account tells of Cornelia being visited by an ostentatious Camparian matron who, after displaying her splendid jewelry, entreated the Roman widow to favor her with an exhibition of her treasures. With that, Cornelia welcomed her two sons declaring: 'These are the only jewels which I can boast.' Scorning vanity in favor of maternal devotion to her children and pride in their excellent upbringing made Cornelia a popular symbol of feminine virtue and a favorite subject of late eighteenth-century Neoclassical painting.
In the present work, Kauffman sets the scene in a severe, windowless stone interior. Cornelia stands, slightly right of center, addressing her celebrated rebuke to the opulently dressed matron who sits to her left, an open jewel box resting on her lap. Cornelia reaches out her arms toward her two sons who enter the room holding hands and carrying scrolls and schoolbooks. The picture displays the artist’s style at its most elegantly restrained and austere and is among her most classicizing works, its shallow space, warm coloring and spare figural arrangement reflecting her knowledge of Pompeiian wall paintings. The most significant change that Kauffman makes between the present painting and her previous renderings of the subject is in the pronounced role given to Cornelia’s dutiful daughter, Sempronia, who sits at a small table between her mother and her returning brothers, toward whom she casts her gaze. She holds a distaff, and beside her is a basket of needlework, symbolic of the domestic arts, attributes often given to Cornelia herself. Notably, the girl is not mentioned by Valerius Maximus, whose text served as Kauffman’s source, and is rarely featured prominently in depictions of the subject. Thus, Cornelia’s gesture may be understood to include her daughter among her treasures, as well as her sons.
The completion of the painting for Prince Poniatowski was noted by the artist in her Memorandum of Paintings in January 1788, along with a pendant representing Brutus Condemning his Sons to Death for Treason (today lost). Evidently, Kauffman intended the pairing to contrast the joys of virtuous Roman motherhood, represented by Cornelia, with the tragic responsibilities of virtuous Roman fatherhood, as seen in the story of Lucius Junius Brutus, who made the fateful decision to order the execution of his beloved sons for the crime of treason against the state.
Cornelia’s three surviving children grew to be exemplars of the Roman virtues their mother instilled: Sempronia married the Roman hero, Scipio Aemelianus, while Tiberius and Caius became senators who championed the cause of radical agrarian reform and gave their lives resisting anti-republican forces. Their history may have appealed to Kauffman’s patron, as Prince Stanislaus Poniatowski (1754-1833) — Polish nobleman, diplomat and nephew of the last king of Poland – was himself a liberal activist who advocated for the emancipation of the serfs and issues of agricultural reform.
Dr. Bettina Baumgärtel has confirmed this work will be included in the upcoming catalogue raisonné on the artist. We are grateful to Professor Wendy Wassyng Roworth for her assistance cataloging this lot, as well as her support for the attribution on the basis of photographs.