This unattributed portrait of Letizia Bonaparte, which today hangs in the Imperial Mother’s bedroom in Musée National de la Maison Bonaparte in Ajaccio (Corsica), is remarkable for several reasons. Most notable is that fact that despite being painted in the early nineteenth century (that is, during the sitter’s later life) it does not show her as the familiar matronly Madame Mère with her stern expression and stately antique-style pose, but rather gives a vision of a fresh-faced young woman. The pink lips, bright eyes and blushing complexion all imply that this is Letizia in the first flush of youth, if not a newlywed (she married in 1763 at the age of thirteen) then certainly still in the early years of her marriage.
Intriguingly, the work’s composition recalls a portrait by the studio of court painter François Gérard, now in the Musée Fesch. It is true that the Gérard portrait presents Letizia in her late fifties, draped in finery, within a classical or stately setting, as is suggested by the column and drapery behind her, and yet the similarities with the anonymous painting are striking: this is the same woman, with the same long nose and dark curls, in the same pose. In fact, it is almost as if the painter here was working with the Musée Fesch picture as a model and making deliberate variations (choker round the neck instead of pearls, imperial bees on the veil instead of stars, bare right shoulder instead of cascading ringlets). As early inventories show, this portrait has been hanging on one side of the fireplace opposite a portrait of her son Louis Bonaparte since 1832. This juxtaposition then – of the mother of the First Napoleon facing the father of the Third – is not a homage to the Second Empire.
What we have here is a depiction of the coquettish young bride who sent the bill for her wedding clothes (dress, mantillas, corsage, flowery skirt and several pairs of shoes) to the miserly Bonaparte uncle, the archdeacon Lucien. As all contemporaries noted, she was slim, delicate, and well proportioned, but above all stunningly beautiful. There are very few depictions of Letizia in her youth, before her son’s meteoric rise to fame: the family had neither the means nor a reason to avail themselves of grand portraiture. This portrait, then, sits somewhere between depiction and imagination, reminding us of the Bonapartes’ endless ability to control (and even invent) their image.
Text written by Jean-Marc Olivesi, curator of the Musée National de la Maison Bonaparte.
2015, Tr. FWC. Ed. PH.