We pursue our continuing series of visits to the Carnavalet Museum this week.  Today’s destination: a drawing room formerly in the hôtel particulier of the Dukes of Uzès.*  Its most noteworthy feature is a set of splendid boiseries, or carved panels.

View of a drawing room salvaged from the hôtel d’Uzès.

The boiseries of this drawing room were designed and executed in 1767 under the supervision of the architect Claude-Nicolas Ledoux, who was also responsible for the decoration of the Café Militaire, as explained in a previous post.

I didn’t mean to buy the November issue of Architectural Digest, I really didn’t, but I just couldn’t resist the travel feature.  It’s a 3-page spread about the Palazzina Cinese, a gem of a chinoiserie villa in Palermo.

The first page of the AD spread on the Palazzina Cinese.

By strict chronological reckoning, the chinoiserie decor of the Palazzina Cinese falls outside the 1682-1789 timeframe of the Versailles Century because it dates from after 1800.  The spirit of chinoiserie, however, is decidedly 18th century, so I rule it within bounds.  Basta!

The villa was purchased as a holiday home by King Ferdinand of Naples and Sicily* after he arrived in Palermo in 1799.  He’d been driven out of Naples by a republican uprising.  Fortunately, his other kingdom, Sicily, remained loyal.  He and his wife Maria Carolina, sister of Marie-Antoinette, settled down to life in Sicily, which included decorating their new folly.  They promptly settled on a decorative scheme in the ‘Chinese’ taste.

Actually, the rooms feature not just chinoiserie, but also turcquerie, which you can make out in the picture at top left on the second page of the article (see below).

The second page of the AD spread on the Palazzina Cinese.

You can read the full article with its high-quality photos on the AD website.  Check it out here: http://www.architecturaldigest.com/story/palermo-italy-casina-cinese.

*The 2 kingdoms were merged in 1816, after which the unified state was called the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies.

We’re not nearly done with our commemorative series of visits to mark the temporary closure of the Carnavalet Museum.  Today we go to the Café Militaire.

As I’ve remarked before, one of the wonderful things about this museum is that it preserves interiors from vanished buildings, such as the staircase of the vanished Hôtel de Luynes, which we inspected in a recent post.  Another one of these preserved interiors is that of the Café Militaire.

The decoration of this establishment was  commissioned from the young architect Claude-Nicolas Ledoux by the distiller Godeau.   The venue was a house built in 1761-62 by another architect on the site of what is now the Louvre des Antiquaires.  The house, which no longer exists, was in the ‘Greek’ style, so Godeau wanted a suitably ‘Greek’ decorative scheme.

According to the onsite info placard — from which I got all of this information, by the way — the architect opted for a martial scheme of 12 columns in the form of fascicles (vertical bundles) of lances topped by capitals in the guise of warriors’ helmets.

The paneling of the vanished Café Militaire preserved in the Carnavalet Museum.  Note the columns with the helmet capitals.

In our continuing series ‘in honour of’ the temporary closure of the Carnavalet Museum, we examine 4 chinoiserie panels from the former residence of the Duke of Richelieu in Paris.

Why 4?  They are meant to symbolize the 4 elements: Air, Earth, Fire and Water.

The first 2 of 4 chinoiserie panels: Air and Earth.

In the wake of the recent closing of the Carnavalet Museum for renovations, we’re touring some of its Versailles Century-related exhibits. Today we inspect what I’ve dubbed the ‘Green Salon.’

The ‘Green Salon’ in the Carnavalet Museum.

You see that info placard in the centre?  I usually photograph such things as a memory aid, but for some reason I forgot to snap it.  The official name of this room, not to mention its provenance, was on that placard. All memory of it is gone, and the museum’s website says nothing about it. Hence I’ve dubbed it simply the ‘Green Salon,’ after the mint-green trim on the boiseries.  It’s obviously from some Louis XV-era aristocratic residence in Paris, but if you know which one, please comment below.

In the wake of this week’s closing of the Carnavalet Museum for a 3-year program of renovations, I’ve decided to devote this and the next several posts to highlights of the museum’s collections.  Today we inspect the Escalier de Luynes, or the Luynes staircase, which was once in the now-disappeared Hôtel de Luynes, townhouse of the dukes of Luynes.*

Marble steps of the Escalier de Luynes in the Carnavalet Museum.

One of the things that makes the Carnavalet Museum so special is that it showcases complete rooms and architectural elements from buildings that no longer exist, or whose interiors have been completely altered.  In other words, the minds behind the museum were farsighted early preservationists who already in the late 19th century were salvaging priceless treasures of Paris’s built heritage that would otherwise have been lost forever.

It’s a sad day for museum lovers and Versailles Century enthusiasts.  As of today, 3 October, 2016, the Carnavalet Museum in Paris is closed for a massive 3-year program of renovations.  If all goes well, it should re-open in the autumn of 2019.

A facade in the main courtyard of the Carnavalet Museum.

In this edition of VC Museum Visits, we tour the Museum-School of Portuguese Decorative Arts in Lisbon.

Located in the shadow of an ancient Moorish wall in the hillside district of Alfama, this exquisite museum is run by the Ricardo Espirito de Santo Silva Foundation.*  It’s housed in the former palace of the Viscounts of Azurara, which the late Senhor Espirito do Santo Silva (1900-1955), a banker and lavish patron of the arts, purchased in 1947 specifically for the purpose of creating a museum.  A lifelong admirer of Alfama, Lisbon’s most historic district, he was also keen to preserve the skills and traditions of the artisans who lived in the area, hence the inclusion of a school in the foundation.

I knew I was going to love it as soon as I saw what was in the vestibule.

A Cinderella-like 18C carriage in the vestibule.

The Versailles Century (1682-1789) played out all over the world, thanks in large part to the colonial empires of the European powers, particularly Spain and Portugal.  The latter’s easternmost possession, Macau, is home to the beautiful St. Joseph’s Church.

Macau’s most famous church is of course St. Paul’s, of which only the iconic facade remains.  Most visitors to Macau see (or are taken to see) no other church.

The world-famous ruined facade of St. Paul’s, the iconic sight of Macau.

The victim of a catastrophic fire in 1834, St. Paul’s had also previously been the home of the first European institution of higher learning in the Far East, St. Paul’s College.

Today we visit Madame Victoire’s apartment at Versailles.

Louis XV had 8 daughters, of whom 7 survived to adulthood, and of whom 2 lived long enough to see the Revolution.  Mme Victoire, born in 1733, was the younger of those two.  Like all but one of her sisters, she was sent away from Versailles to the abbey of Fontevrault for her education.  As a Daughter of France, i.e. the daughter of a reigning king, she was called Madame rather than Mademoiselle even though she never married.  This portrait of her was painted when she returned to live at Versailles at the end of her schooling in 1748.

Mme Victoire by Nattier.  Credit: Wikipedia

Curiously, only one of the sisters married.  This was the eldest, Mme Louise Elisabeth, known simply as Madame, later as Madame Infante when she was married at 13 to the Infante Philip of Spain, a younger son of Philip V.  He later inherited his mother’s sovereign duchy of Parma,* thus making him and Mme Louise Elisabeth the founders of the house of Bourbon-Parma,** whose descendants now include all the Catholic royalties of Europe.

By the time their nephew Louis XVI came to the throne in 1774, only 3 of the sisters were left at Versailles: Mme Adelaide, Mme Victoire, and Mme Sophie, who died in 1782.  Mesdames Adelaide and Victoire remained in the apartments that we see today until the royal family were forced to leave the Chateau in October of 1789.  The sisters withdrew to their estate at Bellevue, from which they fled in 1791 to seek refuge in Italy.  Mme Victoire died of breast cancer in Trieste in 1799, leaving Mme Adelaide the sole survivor of the sisterhood until her own death the following year.

In her final years at Versailles, Mme Victoire luxuriated in a suite of 6 principal rooms: an antechamber, a salon, a large drawing room, a bedchamber, a small drawing room, and a library.  Few people at Versailles had such spacious lodgings.  Even duchesses had to make do with a garret if they were not in favour, and anyone who could afford it kept a house in the town of Versailles as an escape from their cramped quarters in the Chateau.