Putti in a Circle Dance with a Dog

Entry

Everything in the scenes depicted on these two oval ivory reliefs seems to be in motion (for the other relief, see BK-2011-46-2). Dancing in a circle, the putti in the background move convincingly to the front of the scenes. By introducing variation in the poses of these round-bodied infants, the ivory-carver has managed to create a visually pleasing, concentrated and lightly frivolous scene. The playful motif of the dog on the one relief further demonstrates the sculptor’s sense of sculptural plasticity and his total mastery of composition within a limited plane.

In form, subject and style, the two present ivories are highly similar to a number of other oval-shaped ivory reliefs. Differences to be observed when comparing these works to four relief-carved ivories in a series preserved at the Bayerisches Nationalmuseum in Munich are so minimal that one can only conclude that all six are certain to have been made by the one and the same hand relying on the same models.² An almost identical ivory Putti in a Circle Dance, sold in London in 2001,³ can be added to this group, together with another piece that surfaced on the Belgian art market in 2012, which closely resembles the scene on the present Circle Dance of Putti with a Dog. This latter work, though qualitatively inferior, bears a signature and date on its reverse: JOA GVILLERMIN SCULP AVEN 1669.⁴ This inscription – clearly apocryphal and dating from the nineteenth or twentieth century – alludes to the name Jean Guillermin (1622-1699), a scarcely known French ivory-carver employed by the Parisian royal court and elsewhere.⁵ Last to be considered in the same group is a pair of related ivories formerly on the Amsterdam art market – one with a relief-carved scene of dancing putti and a jumping dog – and attributed to the Mechelen sculptor Lucas Faydherbe (1617-1697).⁶ The quality of these reliefs is likewise substantially inferior to that of both the Rijksmuseum pair and the series in Munich.

Significantly, the latter four works originally came from collections of the electors of the Palatinate in Düsseldorf. First mentioned in 1730,⁷ these ivories were utmost likely acquired by Johann Wilhelm, Elector Palatine (1658-1716) – a lover of opulence and art – for his art cabinet in that city.⁸ This likewise essentially provides a terminus ante quem for the Amsterdam pair. In the earliest descriptions of the Palatinate collection, the four reliefs are listed as anonymous works, followed by more optimistic attributions to sculptors François du Quesnoy (1598-1643) and Lucas Faydherbe (1617-1697) in the nineteenth century.⁹ In 1916, Berliner’s estimation of these works was less positive: ‘[...] that they cannot be credibly attributed to a prominent master. It can only be the work of a follower, who copied extractions from one or more foreign compositions.’¹⁰ Nevertheless, Berliner’s premise that these scenes were excerpts taken from other pre-existing compositions must be dismissed: the arrangement of the putti in the established oval format is simply too original and too successful for this to have been the case. The quality of the carving on both the Amsterdam and Munich reliefs, while inferior to sculptors like Du Quesnoy or Faydherbe, displays a level of technical and artistic mastery surpassing that of an ordinary sculptor. Similar in style and concept are three reliefs of music-making putti and recumbent naked women in the Louvre, all of which are attributed to an anonymous German ivory-carver active in the mid-seventeenth century, possibly in Ulm.¹¹

The idea of creating representations of dancing and playing putti was possibly motivated by an artistic rivalry with a renowned sixteenth- or seventeenth-century marble relief preserved since 1609 in the Borghese collection in Rome depicting three Sleeping Putti, of which countless replicas were made in the seventeenth century and later.¹² The maker of the ivory reliefs likely sought to devise a playful, dynamic equivalent to the marble relief that showed the sleeping infants after waking, when engaged as a group in a lively bout of play and dance. In doing so, he adopted the same oval format and visual compactness of the scene. Also relevant is an invention of the Bolognese painter Guido Reni (1575-1642), showing a group of fighting putti,¹³ and in a more general sense, the inspiration of the work of the fattore dei putti François du Quesnoy, the Flemish sculptor active in Rome whose playful, plump baby putti were copied prolifically. Du Quesnoy’s influence was particularly manifest in his native Flanders during the second half of the seventeenth century. Parallels are to be observed especially when comparing the Amsterdam ivories to Du Quesnoy’s marble relief of hovering, music-making angels adorning the Filomarino altar in the Santi Apostoli in Naples.¹⁴ This likewise clarifies the occasional attribution of a number of the ivory reliefs in this group to Faydherbe, a direct heir to Du Quesnoy’s artistic legacy. Ultimately, the maker of these reliefs must therefore be sought in Flanders in the second half of the seventeenth or early eighteenth century.

A rectangular variant of the ivory with the Putti in a Circle Dance with a Dog, bearing the monogram ‘PH’ of the Dresden court sculptor Paul Heermann (1673-1732), survives in Braunschweig.¹⁵ Dated circa 1705, this carving has a composition virtually identical to that of the Amsterdam relief; deviations are limited to the slightly different positioning of the rightmost putto’s head and the rendering of the ground, which Heermann carved in greater detail. The relief is rectangular in form. Despite an agreement in style, the differences between this relief and the Braunschweig and Amsterdam ivories are still too great for them to have been made by the same hand. With respect to the treatment of the hair, for example, Heermann obviously lacks the skill possessed by the maker of the Amsterdam ivories, where the putti have been furnished with lively and varied coiffures. The same applies to the facial expressions: rendered with ‘empty’ gazes in the eyes and void of any detectible emotion, Heermann’s figures appear somewhat ‘lifeless’. In addition, the carving of the putti’s bodies on the Amsterdam and Braunschweig reliefs is more flowing, particularly observable on the central figure of the present ivory, with its back turned to the beholder. Lastly, the dog’s head on Heermann’s relief fails to convince, possessing an almost sheep-like expression. On the basis of these observations one may reasonably conclude that Heermann most likely based his works on the model of the maker of the Amsterdam and Munich reliefs – not the other way around. This is hardly surprising, as he is known to have adopted other artists’ compositions on more than one occasion. An ivory bearing his monogram preserved in the Rijksmuseum, for example, can be traced to Michelangelo’s lost model of Samson Fighting Two Philistines (BK-NM-674).¹⁶ Other works are based on compositions by the seventeenth-century Dutch painter Pieter Quast.¹⁷

The early Düsseldorf provenance of the four Munich ivories and the existence of the Heermann relief in the Braunschweig ducal collection leave little doubt that the maker of the Amsterdam and Munich reliefs should be sought among the ivory-carvers working for the princely courts of Middle Germany. The Düsseldorf connection even suggests an association with the late baroque style of the Flemish sculptor Gabriel Grupello (1644-1730), who, from 1695 on, served as Kabinettstatuarius to the elector in that city.¹⁸ While putti are rare in Grupello’s oeuvre, stylistic parallels can be discerned with respect to the overall plumpness and facial type of these ivory-carved infants, as well as the treatment of the hair, comparable to works such as his dynamic marble putto on the fountain of the salt-fishmongers in Brussels (1675), the half-naked child in the allegorical group of Faith, and the Amor figure from the statuary group of Venus and Amor from Château Mercerie (Magnac-Lavalette, Angoulême).¹⁹

Grupello first worked as an apprentice in the atelier of Artus Quellinus II in Antwerp, where he adopted the style of Rubenesque baroque. After spending a brief period in Paris around 1671, he developed a more elegant and less naturalistic classicism more akin to the international, Late-Baroque court style, which he brought to full fruition when in Düsseldorf from 1695 onwards. Grupello was also an experienced ivory-carver, as demonstrated by a number of surviving crucifixes.²⁰ His compositions were often imitated by his assistants and others, thus clarifying inconsistencies and quality variations observed in his oeuvre. Also noteworthy in this context is a painted portrait in Oxford, attributed to a follower of Michael Sweerts, which shows a sculptor holding an ivory-carved group of three dancing putti. Might this be a portrait of Grupello? Facial features corresponding to those known from other sources are undeniably present.²¹

On a final note, one other possibility must be considered: specifically, an identification of the ivories’ maker as the Mechelen sculptor Frans Langhemans (1661-1720). As a student of Lucas Faydherbe, Langhemans was certainly capable of having produced such a series of ivories featuring plumpish putti rendered in the spirit of Rubens and Faydherbe. He is also known to have spent a period of time, circa 1700, at the Düsseldorf court as sculptor ordinaris, possibly working as Grupello’s assistant. Unfortunately, there are no known documented works with which the ivories might be compared.²²

Frits Scholten, 2025