Thierry de Ville d'Avray

Ms. Tracey Albainy of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts has been generously corresponding with me regarding the collection of Thierry royal French furniture recently restored by the BMFA's efforts in conjuction with museums and companies around the world. I'd like to share a little of her writing with you for she tells of the magnificent work the museum has accomplished:

8 March 2006

Dear Ms. Albainy,

First, may I congratulate the museum on such a very fine conservation/restoration, and in recognizing the value of preserving these magnificent artworks.

I'm very grateful to you for taking the time to contact me regarding the Thierry de Ville d'Avray suite of furniture. I was browsing through my old copies of L'Objet d'Art and came across their cover story of the furniture in their January 2003 issue. It goes into depth as to the restoration process and includes photographs which give me a fairly decent idea of how the frames were conserved of further damage to the wood. The article is divided into two parts, and the second regarding the technical processes is where my French is stronger. I am more curious about Xavier Bonnet's article which seems to be verifying the little written documentation available that the museum's furniture was indeed that ordered by Thierry for Fontainebleau and that it is determined in part by these few surviving records but also in the details of the carving and construction (a la anglaise) which differs in later nineteenth century reproductions? The frames were originally to be painted, not gilded? The fabric also was listed in the inventory as blue-gray and white in an arabesque design? How close do you feel the recreated fabric matches the original colour-way? Is the particular symbolism represented in the chosen design relevant to Thierry? (The forgers seem to be hammering a Coat of Arms? The sea-horses and hunting dogs represent? I'm curious about details - such as why the frames went to Los Angeles for the cleaning and retouching of the gilding, as well as how many restorations the pieces have been subjected to over the years?

Please forgive me for going on and taking your time. I have a great love of French furniture and this sort of restoration is seldom done. I understand that your particular type of restoration was developed here in the US, at the Getty? Do you think personally think it maintains the integrity of the original artistry? I lived in Los Angeles for a number of years and spent much time at the Getty enjoying their very fine collection, as well as the pieces at the Huntington. (There is even a small collection formerly owned by the Doheny family at St. John's Seminary in Camarillo.) And of course in New York we have the Frick and the Met. I've seen the best collections in Paris, though not yet the Wallace in London. Steible's has had a pair of Foliot Louis XV fauteuils on their web-site which are truly amazing. So, I feel very ignorant to not have realized we have such a treasure residing in Boston.

I will see if I can purchase the Apollo magazine from the BMFA store - or go to Apollo, which I believe sells back issues on-line. You are telling me, though, that there is no BMFA catalogue containing the suite's history (which I find fascinating), restoration and photographs? Is the furniture on display in it's entirety? We've spoken of taking the train to see the suite one weekend soon.

Again, you are very, very kind to respond so kindly and quickly to my interest. I am

Sincerely Yours,

Don Larson

Her response:

Dear Mr. Larsen,

I apologize for the delay in responding. I have just returned from the art fair in Maastricht--an extraordinary experience I recommend highly!

Xavier Bonnet's article in L'Estampille/Object d'Art is a superb reference for the conservation project. Xavier, as you now know, was one of the team of upholsterers who researched the original upholstery treatment by Claude-Francois Capin and recreated it using the wealth of documentation they had available. Because the suite was paid for by the Crown, it was extensively documented. We had at our disposal an unprecedented amount of physical and written documentation for this project, so very little interpretation was necessary. In addition to the order in the registers of the Garde-Meuble, we also had the account books of the individual craftsmen responsible for the project to provide details of the work.

To answer your questions in order:

The original suite was ordered for Thierry's apartment in the Hôtel du Garde-Meuble in Paris, not the château of Fontainebleau. I think that the confusion arose because the silk lampas was originally designed for the King's Gaming Room at Fontainebleau. As a perquisite of his royal appointment, Thierry had access to the leftover yardage stored in the Garde-Meuble and consequently used the same silk for his bedroom.

We reproduced the silk lampas using a large panel--either a bedhanging or a portiere--comprising three complete widths seamed together. This panel, given to the Museum of Fine Arts by a direct descendant of James Swan, is the only surviving document of the complete pattern, which measures approximately 11 feet 7 inches in length and includes four major motifs representing the Four Elements: spaniels (Earth), winged sea horses (water vapor, or Water), river gods (Water), and a cyclops forging Jupiter's thunderbolts (Fire). Although the Lyons firm, Reboul, Fontebrune et Compagnie, originally woven the three-color silk lampas for the King's Gaming Room at Fontainebleau, there are no royal symbols included in the pattern. The elegant pattern is a characteristic neoclassical arabesque design attributable to Jean-Demosthene Dugourc. In addition to the lampas, the Museum also had in its storerooms fragments of the original woven borders in two widths and a variety of passementeries, which also served as documents for reproduction.

The registers of the Garde-Meuble described the colors as blue, white and grey, though the panel clearly shows them to be a turquoise blue, cream, and taupe. We identified the original colors by opening the seams of the panel, exposing areas of unfaded textile, and had the silk fibers dyed to match. There is no doubt in my mind that the colors we used are accurate.

The conservation project comprised three parts: the treatment of the gilded frames, the reproduction of the lampas and trims, and the reupholstery. The gilding conservation was done by Cynthia Moyer, a private conservator working under the supervision of Brian Considine in the objects conservation laboratories at the J. Paul Getty Museum. Brian and Cynthia are Paris-trained specialists in 18th-century French gilding and we chose them for this treatment because of their highly specialized training and understanding of period gilding. The Getty Museum generously offered Cynthia the use of their facility so that she would have adequate insurance coverage, the equipment required, and a photo lab at her disposal. At the same time, the Getty was interested in researching the suite. All the pieces had undergone one or more restorations during their long history; most had a later toned varnish on top of the gilding to even out the color and to fill in areas of loss. Cynthia removed this varnish, filled in areas using 18th-century gilding techniques, and lightly burnished areas, as appropriate. Many pieces had retained the majority of the original gilding, as well as the gesso underlayer. Each piece had a different history, as the suite was divided in the 1820s between the three Swan daughters and the pieces had descended through several branches over the family. The amount of restoration depended on how much the pieces were used; the firescreen and bed, for example, had had little restoration and represent the most authentic surfaces.

Cynthia discovered traces of the bluish-white paint under the gilding through microscopic analysis. This physical evidence confirmed the information provided in the account book of the Parisian painter-gilder Louis Chatard, who entered a charge for painting the ten pieces of furniture, then, in a later entry dated August 1787, crossed out the painting and wrote in gilding. Clearly, Thierry de Ville d'Avray visited the workshop while work was in process and had a change of heart!

Finally, Xavier's article is the best explanation of the non-interventive upholstery method employed for the set. Non-interventive methods were first explored by American conservators in the 1970s as a means of preserving the original tacking margins of historic furniture. The most common technique is to carve a simulation of the original seat profile out of Ethafoam, a hard foamlike material resembling styrafoam, and then cover the foam seat with the finish fabrics. The technique developed by Remy Brazet is far more satisfying. Under Remy's direction, a furniture restorer created beechwood frames to fit into the upholstered openings. Remy, in turn, tacked the foundation materials--i.e. the webbing, horsehair, and coarse textiles stretched over the horsehair--into these drop-in frames. The finish fabrics were then glued onto thin pieces of flexible plywood cut to follow to the line of the tacking margins. The result is a traditional horsehair upholstery without any tacks inserted into the original wood frames--a result that is very convincing and historically appropriate.

Xavier also discusses at length the seat profiles, which are based on fragments of the original 1787 upholstery (found in the MFA's storerooms) and the account book of the upholsterer Claude-Francois Capin. The rounded seats were surprising at first, but unequivocally correct.

There, unfortunately, isn't a catalogue on the suite and the conservation project. The Apollo article does, though, provide a concise summary and before and after images.

Thank you, again, for your interest in the project. Please let me know when you plan to visit--it would be a pleasure to meet you.

With best wishes,

Tracey Albainy

My follow up letter:

15 March 2006

Dear Ms. Albainy,

My partner, Mark, and I had the great privilege of residing for about three years in Amsterdam, in a smaller seventeenth century row house on the Keizersgracht. Our neighbors in the 'achter huis' were a marvelous Dutch family, Jan Martin and Monique Wilschut-Brink, with a great and noble lineage; and it was they who introduced us to the Maastricht fair . Monique is an antiquaire/designer and as it is a small world I though you may know of her. So, I am very happy to hear of your journey - and not a little envious for we haven't travelled for some time! Nevertheless, your automated reply let me know you were out of town until today, or now yesterday, the fourteenth - so it is indeed a kindness to hear from you so quickly upon your return. I hope the jet lag has not taken too much of a tole.

Such a wealth of information you've taken the time to share. Thank you! It is a wonderful glimpse back in time. I love that Thierry perhaps attempted economy (slightly) by using the store of silk and by originally suggesting the painted frames instead of gilding. Yet, at the same time having the same fabric as the King speaks of his pride, while the decision to gild surely confirms the same. The impact of the realities of politics and the loss of the furniture for basic goods must have been heart wrenching. These images are what, for me, makes the conservation process priceless. We have this amazing vision of how our societies differ over time but, charmingly, remain the same, too. A little glimpse into the minds and hearts of the people who used these furnishings daily to live and we find their motives not unlike ours today. Over the years I have had the honor of being caretaker to far lesser pedigree furnishings and when you touch the wood or gilding and let fingers glide over carvings made so long ago you wish to hear their many whispered stories. I had for a while a small country fall-front secretary, Louis Seize, original marble and brasses, and at least old leather. The walnut would make you gasp, it was so smooth and sensuous, and I often wondered whose correspondence was written at this small desk: were births and deaths recorded there? Love letters written? Simple housekeeping books kept, accurately or not! Thank you for clarifying M. Bonnet's article for me. My little French is a dangerous thing!

The 'four elements' motif of the silk is somewhat rare I would think? At least as compared to the seasons, or references to the arts and sciences (such as the Boucher cartoons at the Frick.) I at least have not seen it before. If it was chosen for the kings gaming room does it suggest, perhaps, his passion for lock-making? The refined arabesque design is very beautiful. When you find the little area of unfaded silk in a fold of the upholstery how is it able to be conserved for later restores? I think of the complexity of the conservation/restoration processes and it reminds me of the very systems/guilds set in place to assure the original refinement and excellence of the furniture. The Getty has a small marquetry table which was copied in several stages of production to show the entire creative process - extraordinary work. It of course makes perfect sense that the Getty would be at the forefront of surface restoration. Water gilding is a technique I hope to learn, if only for my own pleasure. At any rate the frames of your pieces are exquisitely patinated. My congratulations to Ms. Moyer and Mr. Considine.

And of course my most sincere congratulations to you, Ms. Albainy, and your staff for investing so much of yourselves in this process. I hear the great pride and passion in your writing for this collection and it is justifiably very well deserved. I will not feel too guilty, then, for having pressed for details, for I hoped you enjoyed telling the stories as much as I have enjoyed hearing them from you.

When I do make it to Boston to see the collection I indeed hope we may meet, your schedule permitting. Lunch, or at the very least coffee, would be my privilege with neither being repayment enough for this measure of your time you have shared with me.

Thank you!

My Very Best Regards,

Don