DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.61284#0048
DISCOURAGED ADMIRERS
ii
of their appearance, a career was open to her, and she became “ fashion-
able.” If the women were drawn to her studio because they longed to have
their charms rendered with the fullest appreciation on canvas, the men
often sat in order to make love to the artist. “ Several amateurs of my
face,” she tells us, “ desired me to paint their own faces, in the hope of
making a favourable impression on me, but I was so engrossed by my art
that they could not manage to distract me. . . . Whenever I saw that
they were trying to look tenderly at me, I painted them as if they were
lost in thought, which makes it impossible for the sitter to look at the
artist. Then, at the least movement of their gaze in my direction, I said
‘ I am doing your eyes ’ ; that vexed them a little, and my mother, who
was always in my studio on such occasions, and whom I had taken into
my confidence, laughed to herself.”
Among these “ amateurs ” were, it would seem, the Comte du Barry
(brother-in-law of the celebrated lady with whom Mademoiselle Vigee was
to become well acquainted in later years) and the Comte de Brie. The
attentions of this last gallant were worse than a nuisance ; he insulted
the artist by trying to buy her affection for cash. At the time of her
marriage, as we shall see later, he revenged himself for her refusal of his
“protection” by inventing and spreading scandalous stories against her
virtue.
It must not be supposed that Elisabeth Vigee was insensible to
admiration. She well knew that she was attractive, and she took every
reasonable care to look as nice as possible on all occasions. Her taste
in dress was simple, and she was one of the first women of any “ fashion ”
to see the folly of elaborately artificial hair-dressing, and of disguising the
natural figure by hoops and tight-lacing. How much she valued good
opinions on her personal appearance may be estimated from her own little
story of an incident at the Coliseum, a sort of gaudy “ Ranelagh ” of
plaster and gilt in the Champs Elysees. When darkness set in, the com-
pany at this resort used to leave the surrounding garden for the Rotunda,
where an excellent concert was provided. On the conclusion of the enter-
tainment, the women, as they went out through the portico, had to listen
to the audible criticism of the “ elegants.” One evening, as Mademoiselle
Vigee was coming down the steps with her mother, the Due de Chartres
(the Philippe Egalite of the Revolution), who was lounging there with his
equally disreputable friend the Marquis de Genlis (both uttering offensive
sarcasms on the women who passed before them), said out loud to his
ii
of their appearance, a career was open to her, and she became “ fashion-
able.” If the women were drawn to her studio because they longed to have
their charms rendered with the fullest appreciation on canvas, the men
often sat in order to make love to the artist. “ Several amateurs of my
face,” she tells us, “ desired me to paint their own faces, in the hope of
making a favourable impression on me, but I was so engrossed by my art
that they could not manage to distract me. . . . Whenever I saw that
they were trying to look tenderly at me, I painted them as if they were
lost in thought, which makes it impossible for the sitter to look at the
artist. Then, at the least movement of their gaze in my direction, I said
‘ I am doing your eyes ’ ; that vexed them a little, and my mother, who
was always in my studio on such occasions, and whom I had taken into
my confidence, laughed to herself.”
Among these “ amateurs ” were, it would seem, the Comte du Barry
(brother-in-law of the celebrated lady with whom Mademoiselle Vigee was
to become well acquainted in later years) and the Comte de Brie. The
attentions of this last gallant were worse than a nuisance ; he insulted
the artist by trying to buy her affection for cash. At the time of her
marriage, as we shall see later, he revenged himself for her refusal of his
“protection” by inventing and spreading scandalous stories against her
virtue.
It must not be supposed that Elisabeth Vigee was insensible to
admiration. She well knew that she was attractive, and she took every
reasonable care to look as nice as possible on all occasions. Her taste
in dress was simple, and she was one of the first women of any “ fashion ”
to see the folly of elaborately artificial hair-dressing, and of disguising the
natural figure by hoops and tight-lacing. How much she valued good
opinions on her personal appearance may be estimated from her own little
story of an incident at the Coliseum, a sort of gaudy “ Ranelagh ” of
plaster and gilt in the Champs Elysees. When darkness set in, the com-
pany at this resort used to leave the surrounding garden for the Rotunda,
where an excellent concert was provided. On the conclusion of the enter-
tainment, the women, as they went out through the portico, had to listen
to the audible criticism of the “ elegants.” One evening, as Mademoiselle
Vigee was coming down the steps with her mother, the Due de Chartres
(the Philippe Egalite of the Revolution), who was lounging there with his
equally disreputable friend the Marquis de Genlis (both uttering offensive
sarcasms on the women who passed before them), said out loud to his