An amusing coincidence

Some years ago, while rooting around an antiques shop in Suffolk, we came upon an amusing little painting of six officers in red coats, seen from the back, with a small dog peeping between their legs. We bought it for the modest sum of, if I remember well, £20, and it is now on the wall of our coatroom.

Sadly, no, it did not turn out to be a mislaid Rembrandt. But imagine my surprise when, visiting an exhibition at our local cultural centre, Les Franciscaines, I saw the original! Which is ten times the size of ours.

The artist is called Félix Philippoteaux (1815-1884) and the painting, The Duke of Orléan’s Gentlemen. It portrays six of the duke’s officers, seen from the back, who were easily recognisable by their contemporaries simply by their height, demeanour and, of course, their distinctive clothing. The men formed the duke’s close entourage and were an essential part of life at court, following him on his travels from château to château.

This anecdote apart, the exhibition was entitled Seen from the back, and contained an interesting mixture of periods and styles, of people painted, or photographed, from the back. This view has been used by many painters over time, to illustrate situations and moods.

See, for example, the wonderful feeling of peace conveyed by the painting below. The shutters have been closed against the midday heat and bright light, giving off a subtle lavender gloom.

Workmen were also often portrayed from the back, as in the famous painting by Gustave Caillebotte, Les raboteurs de parquet. Here we have workers in the industry which was the origin of Venice’s wealth: salt, or the “white gold.”

In the painting below, we have the crowd looking at a luminous fountain at the 1889 Exposition Universelle, in Paris. Where, as regular readers will remember from a previous post, Rosa Bonheur met and painted Buffalo Bill.

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec shared a love of dancers and horse racing with his friend Edgar Degas. This lithography is a masterpiece of mouvement—horse and rider as one in a supreme effort. Notice the interesting and daring viewpoint.

And for something more modern, an oil painting of a nude model by Raoul Dufy.

Although I cannot say I like it, I include this highly weird, if not downright disturbing, surrealist photo by Joel-Peter Witkin (1939-) It is supposed to be a version of Ingres’s La baigneuse de Valpinçon. The violin holes have been replaced by scars which suggest that a pair of wings have been torn out.The maimed back is an allegory of the loss of liberty.

The exhibition was beautifully curated and featured many other interesting works. As for the Franciscaines itself, it is a stunning cultural centre which hosts regular high-quality exhibitions, concerts, talks and other events. It contains over 30.000 books and films which can be borrowed, has plenty of comfortable nooks and crannies in which to enjoy them on the spot, organises children’s workshops and also has a lovely informal restaurant and a shop with books and gifts.

Above is the central hall, a place usually full of people reading the papers and magazines on offer, kids perusing BDs (bandes dessinées, or comic books and graphic novels which the French adore), even people lounging or having a quick snooze on the sofas.

The place was built in 1875 as an orphanage for the children of men lost at sea. It was run by a Franciscan order of nuns and served as a hospital during the first war. Following various changes, the nuns moved to a new building in 2011 and the place was acquired by the city of Deauville. After major work was done by the brilliant architect Alain Moatti, the object being to put all sorts of cultural objects—be it books, art, music etc—at the reach of the public, it was inaugurated in 2021. It has been a huge success, and I encourage any visitors to Deauville to go and see it.