Artwork of the Day
Henri II de Lorraine, marquis de Mouy
ca. 1651 · Engraving; first state of three (Petitjean & Wickert) · French
Image: The Metropolitan Museum of Art (Open Access, public domain)
Catalog Entry for Object #428510
Armorial Property-Ledger with a Nobleman's Head Attached
The plate was worked entirely with the burin, its steel-hard ground built from ruled parallels so fine they read as continuous tone until the eye leans close and the labour of each furrow declares itself; this is a first pull, taken before the copper was reworked, which is to say a proof of a technical claim as much as a likeness. Look first not at the face but at the small oval clamped to the base of the frame: a quartered escutcheon crowned by a pearled coronet, flanked by the granted words Cum Privilegio—a licensed monopoly—and the maker's Sculpebat et Excudebat. That cartouche outranks the head above it. It tallies marriages, fiefs, and inherited quarterings the picture itself can neither witness nor verify; the sitter's supposed character is thereby annexed to a register of holdings, the man appraised as the sum of the lands his shield asserts. That the burin is commanding I concede without reservation—the graded darkness of the ground, the individually turned ringlets falling to the parade breastplate, the stippled lace at the collar show a first-rank hand fully in possession of its plate, and the individualized three-quarter physiognomy, its curling hair and armor rendered hair by hair, echoes the meticulous courtier likenesses of contemporary Mughal miniature, where a face was likewise pinned to rank. But observe what the sheet actually performs. The concentric ruled ovals fence the bust like the walls of a treasury; the coronet grants permanence, the arms grant descent—together they attempt to fix a mortal countenance against death and to license that fixing by royal decree, as if a man could be filed among his own estates and thereby preserved. A tradition that turned its finest craft toward the arabesque understood that a fragment implies the whole and points the gaze past the finite toward what cannot be depicted at all; here the whole apparatus of privilege is marshalled to insist that a single perishable face is a subject fit for eternity, and it is not. So the picture that began by cataloguing one nobleman's possessions has, in the end, become a possession itself—accessioned, credited to a donor, added to another quartered ledger of holdings that mistakes acquiring the face for honoring it. Count the little compartments of that shield: each is an estate claimed, and now the sheet is one more. — FES