Before Art nouveau: the invention, commercialization, and display of the modern interior in nineteenth-century France

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BEFORE ART NOUVEAU:
THE INVENTION, COMMERCIALIZATION, AND DISPLAY OF THE MODERN
INTERIOR IN NINETEENTH-CENTURY FRANCE

by

Anca I. Lasc

____________________________________________________________

A Dissertation Presented to the
FACULTY OF THE USC GRADUATE SCHOOL
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
In Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
(ART HISTORY)

August 2012

Copyright 2012 Anca I. Lasc

ii
Acknowledgements

Dissertation acknowledgements habitually leave the most important people
responsible for a project’s fruition last. I would like to reverse the order and first
thank the one person without whom this project would never have seen the light of
day: my partner of ten-years, Vlad Cristian Vicol. His pertinent advice, relentless
patience, unconditional love, and priceless emotional support throughout the many
years of planning, research, and writing that went into the crafting of this dissertation
have been invaluable. To say that life without him in Bremen, Los Angeles, Paris, and
back in Los Angeles would have been unbearable is an understatement. His name
deserves to be on this dissertation as much as my own.
Although thanking everyone who has helped bring this project to completion
would be close to impossible, it gives me great pleasure to express my gratitude for
my wonderful advisor and, really, my very own pillar of intellectual, emotional, and
(sometimes blatant!) financial support, Vanessa R. Schwartz. Her affinity for France
and for the study of nineteenth-century popular culture, as well as for the former’s
entertainment industries, picqued her curiosity about an art history project on proto-
Disneyesque theming in the cafés and cabarets of Belle Époque Montmartre. Little
did she know at the time how well acquainted (by necessity!) she would become with
an army of nineteenth-century furnishers – tapissiers, ébénistes, dessinateurs, and
menuisiers – and their arcane professional societies in a post-guild world. Vanessa
stood up to the challenge and embraced the world (not in a bit less ostentatious,

iii
theatrical, and glamorous) of the private interior wholeheartedly. I have been
fortunate to have her as a model all these years, and I am grateful for her having
accepted a Romanian “outsider” into her academic family. Since I first met her, she
has not stopped teaching me about history, work and academia, and, indeed, the art of
managing (and surviving!) everyday life. She has been a tower of strength and source
of inspiration, and I thank her for everything.
My dissertation committee also warrants special credit. Any project about the
history of the modern interior and the decorative arts within it would take the work of
Nancy J. Troy as a point of departure. I have been privileged to have Nancy not just
as a constant source of reference but also as an advisor for the dissertation itself.
Elinor A. Accampo has taught me about the history of gender and the history of
consumption, and has helped me become a more-rounded scholar from many points
of view. Although the last one to join the committee, Richard Evan Meyer has
patiently read the entire manuscript in a record time, and has provided valuable
feedback.
Other past and presend USC faculty members have seen to the completion of
this project at various stages in time. Malcolm C. Baker, Daniela Bleichmar, and
Karen Ann Lang helped push it forward while still at the merely embryonic stage of a
“dissertation proposal.” First as Graduate Advisor, and then as Department Chair,
Carolyn M. Malone has invisibly (and perhaps unknowingly) guarded over it ever
since I first moved from Europe to Los Angeles in 2004. She has been my first

iv
faculty advisor in many ways, and has backed up and encouraged my love of teaching
at points in time when everything else seemed to fail.
Many people outside USC have also contributed to this project. Sarah E.
Lawrence, Associate Professor of Design History at Parsons, The New School for
Design, and Gail S. Davidson, Curator and Head of the Drawings, Prints, and Graphic
Design Department at Cooper-Hewitt, National Design Museum, have served as
advisors to my project while I was a Smithsonian Institution Pre-doctoral Fellow in
New York. They both read and listened to chapters of my dissertation, arduously
preparing me for an academic life. Thomas W. Gaehtgens, Director of the Getty
Research Institute in Los Angeles, and Jörg Ebeling, Research Director at the
Deutsches Forum für Kunstgeschichte/Centre allemand d'histoire de l'art in Paris,
have unlocked the resilient world of French archives on my behalf. Throughout the
years I have come to learn that their names truly opened previously-invisible doors,
thus revealing entirely new avenues of research.
The staffs of too many libraries, museums, and archives, both in France and in
the United States, deserve special mention; and I am happy now to be able to
recognize many of the names below as dear friends. At the Bibliothèque Forney, in
Paris, Mme. Sabine Budin, Mme. Véronique Chateigner, and Mme. Isabelle
Servajean from the Service des catalogues d'art have accommodated my research
requests innumerable times, even when the library was under construction and was
closed to the general public. At the Musée des arts décoratifs, Mme. Odile Nouvel,
Conservateur en chef (en charge des collections XIXe siècle), has given me access to

v
collections not only from her own department but also to those from her colleagues’
divisions at the Musée des arts décoratifs and at the Bibliothèque de l’INHA. Mme.
Alice Thomine-Berrada, Conservateur du patrimoine at the Musée d’Orsay, has
opened further doors not only at the Musée d’Orsay but also at the École nationale
supérieure des beaux-arts. Finally, the private collection of Roxane and Florence
Quignard-Debuisson has provided a nineteenth-century oasis in the middle of the
bustling twenty-first century city. In the United States, I am especially thankful to
Rosemary Krill and the staff of the Winterthur Museum and Library, where I have
had the opportunity to reside as a fellow in the summer of 2011. And last but not the
least, Peter Bonfitto at the Getty Research Institute has helped further my project by
introducing me both to new sources and to incoming Getty scholars.
This list would not be complete without the recognition of my fellow USC
graduate students, who have read portions of my work and have provided feedback no
matter how remote their own area of research has been from my own. So I would like
to hereby thank Aleca Le Blanc, Amy Von Lintel, Cathrine Besancon, Chera Kee,
Jennifer Black, Jennifer Miller, Karin Higa, Katharine Wells, Kristine Tanton, Leta
Ming, Maria Webster, Rachel Middleman, Ryan Linkof, and Younjung Oh. They all
have helped me become a better thinker and a better writer.
Finally, without understanding my project, or even the meaning of a
“dissertation,” my grandparents have supported my work ever since I moved out of
my hometown and started living at what to them still seems like “the end of the
world.” I thank them deeply, and I wish they could have moved to America with me

vi
during the project’s completion. But my most sincere thanks are reserved for my
mother, the one person who, without my father, really has carried the burden of this
dissertation on her shoulders. I dedicate all my future career successes to her.

vii
Table of Contents

Acknowlegements ii
List of Figures viii
Abstract xxi
Introduction 1
Chapter 1: Redefining Eclecticism: Orchestrating the Private Interior in 24
Nineteenth-Century France, 1870-1914

Chapter 2: Selling Interior Decoration Designs: Upholsterers, Interior Decorators, 91
and the French Art World

Chapter 3: Commercializing and Aestheticizing the Interior in Visual Form: 167
Exhibiting Interior Decoration Designs

Chapter 4: Selling Furniture as an Image in Late Nineteenth-Century 252
Department Stores

Chapter 5: Le Juste Milieu: Alexandre Sandier, Theming, and the Development 340
of Art Nouveau in French Interiors of the Nineteenth Century

Conclusion 397
Bibliography 412

viii
List of Figures

Fig. 1: P. Brunet, “Fumoir Asiatique,” from Le Tapissier décorateur 23
de Paris (1879)

Fig. 2: Jules Verchère, “Intérieur de salle en style gothique,” from Le 23
Mobilier ancien & moderne (ca. 1880)

Fig. 1.1: Georges Rémon, “Salon d’attente Renaissance,” from Intérieurs 81
d’appartements modernes (c. 1892)

Fig. 1.2: Frontispiece, Gazette des beaux-arts vol. 1 (Jan.-Feb.-March 81
1859)

Fig. 1.3: Caran d’Ache, “Peintre member de l’Institut,” in Émile Bergerat, 82
“Les peintres chez eux,” La Revue illustrée (Dec. 1885-May 1886)

Fig. 1.4: Caran d’Ache, “Peintre Orientaliste,” in Émile Bergerat, 83
“Les peintres chez eux,” La Revue illustrée (Dec. 1885-May 1886)

Fig. 1.5: Caran d’Ache, “Peintre d’histoire,” in Émile Bergerat, 84
“Les peintres chez eux,” La Revue illustrée (Dec. 1885-May 1886)

Fig. 1.6: Édouard Bajot, “Fin du Gothique, Époque Louis XI - Bibliothèque,” 85
from Les Styles dans la maison française (c. 1889)

Fig. 1.7: Édouard Bajot, “Fin du Gothique, Époque Louis XI – Bibliothèque 86
[8: Table imitée du musée de Bruges; 9: Profil de la partie supérieure
de la cheminée; 10: Siège à haut dossier (la partie inférieure s’ouvre en
forme de coffre); 11: Partie supérieure d’un landier (fer forgé)],” from Les
Styles dans la maison française (c. 1889)

Fig. 1.8: Charles Kreutzberger, “Période Ogivale: Bibliothèque – Ensemble,” 87
from Du choix et de la disposition des ameublements de style (1898)

Fig. 1.9: Édouard Bajot, “Style Renaissance, Époque François Ier - Bibliothèque,” 88
from Les Styles dans la maison française (c. 1889)

Fig. 1.10: Édouard Bajot, “Style Louis XV (XVIIIe siècle) - Bibliothèque,” 89
from Les Styles dans la maison française (c. 1889)

ix
Fig. 1.11: Édouard Bajot, “Cabinet d’amateur Louis XIII,” from Intérieurs 90
d’appartements meublés (c. 1884)

Fig. 2.1: Jules Verdellet, “Drawing-Room-Greenhouse or Conservatory,” 148
from The Practical Art of the Upholsterer no. 5 (1883)

Fig. 2.2: Jules Verdellet, “Renaissance Dining-Room,” from The Practical 148
Art of the Upholsterer no. 3 (1882)

Fig. 2.3: Désiré Guilmard, “Renaissance Dining-Room Buffet,” from 149
D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble ancien et moderne: Collection de
meubles (1856)

Fig. 2.4: Désiré Guilmard, “Renaissance Drawing-Room Chair and 149
Armchair,” from D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble ancien et moderne:
Collection de sièges (1857)

Fig. 2.5: Désiré Guilmard, “Renaissance Drawing-Room Chair and 150
Armchair,” from D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble ancien et moderne:
Collection de sièges (1860)

Fig. 2.6: Désiré Guilmard, “Drawing-Room Window Curtain Design, 150
Galerie Louis XVI,” from D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble ancien
et moderne: Collection de tentures (1862)

Fig. 2.7: Désiré Guilmard, “Louis XVI Drawing-Room Sofa,” from 151
D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble ancien et moderne: Collection de
sièges (1862)

Fig. 2.8: Désiré Guilmard, “Louis XVI Drawing-Room Chair and Armchair,” 151
from D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble ancien et moderne: Collection
de sièges (1862)

Fig. 2.9: Désiré Guilmard, “Boudoir Interior,” from D. Guilmard, 152
Le Garde-meuble ancien et moderne: Collection de tentures (1862)

Fig. 2.10: Désiré Guilmard, “Boudoir Interior,” from D. Guilmard, 152
Le Garde-meuble ancien et moderne: Collection de tentures (1862)

Fig. 2.11: Friedrich Wilhelm Klose, Etruscan Room in the Palace at Potsdam, 153
watercolor (ca. 1840)

Fig. 2.12: Charles Giraud, Le Salon de la princesse Mathilde, 153
watercolor (ca. 1867)

x
Fig. 2.13: Claude Aimé Chenevard, “Décoration intérieure, dans 154
le Genre Egyptien,” from Recueil des dessins de tapis, tapisseries,
et autres objets d’ameublement (ca. 1830)

Fig. 2.14: Victor-Léon Quétin, “Fifteenth-Century Gothic Dining-Room,” 154
from Le Magasin de meubles 85 (ca. 1865-1895)

Fig. 2.15: Victor-Léon Quétin, “Fifteenth-Century Gothic Dining-Room,” 155
from Le Magasin de meubles no. 25 (s.d.)

Fig. 2.16: Victor-Léon Quétin, “Fifteenth-Century Gothic Bedroom,” from 155
Le Magasin de meubles no. 25 (s.d.)

Fig. 2.17: Jules Deville, “Bedroom,” watercolor (ca. 1850-1880) 156

Fig. 2.18: Jules Deville, “Window Curtain,” watercolor (ca. 1850-1880) 156

Fig. 2.19: Jules Deville, “Wall Elevation,” watercolor (ca. 1850-1880) 157

Fig. 2.20: C. Degas & Cie, “Upper-Gallery Drawing-Room,” developed surface 157
drawing (ca. 1870-1910)

Fig. 2.21: Jules Deville, “Bedroom,” watercolor (ca. 1850-1880) 158

Fig. 2.22: Jules Deville, “Bedroom,” watercolor (ca. 1850-1880) 158

Fig. 2.23: Jules Deville, “Bedroom,” watercolor (ca. 1850-1880) 159

Fig. 2.24: Jules Deville, “Bedroom,” watercolor (ca. 1850-1880) 159

Fig. 2.25: Jan van Eyck, The Arnolfini Portrait (1434) 160

Fig. 2.26: Jules Deville, “Bedroom,” watercolor (ca. 1850-1880) 160

Fig. 2.27: Jules Deville, “Lit à l’italienne,” from Dictionnaire du tapissier 160
(1878-1880)

Fig. 2.28: Jules Verdellet, “Croisée genre Pompéien,” from The Practical 161
Art of the Upholsterer no. 3 (1882)

Fig. 2.29: Jules Verdellet, “Croisée style Égyptien,” from The Practical 161
Art of the Upholsterer no. 4 (1882)

xi
Fig. 2.30: Désiré Guilmard, “Croisée de salle à manger,” from D. Guilmard, 162
Le Garde-meuble ancien et moderne: Collection de tentures (1857)

Fig. 2.31: Jules Verdellet, “Décoration pour n'importe quelle pièce d'un 162
appartement,” from The Practical Art of the Upholsterer no. 1 (1882)

Fig. 2.32: Jules Verdellet, “Croisée et tentures genre chiffonage,” from 163
The Practical Art of the Upholsterer no. 1 (1882)

Fig. 2.33: Jules Verdellet, “Perspectival View of a Bedroom Interior in 163
the Gothic Style,” from The Practical Art of the Upholsterer no. 4 (1882)

Fig. 2.34: Jules Verdellet, “Plan et elévation d’une chambre de jeune 164
demoiselle,” from The Practical Art of the Upholsterer no. 2 (1882)

Fig. 2.35: Lacroix, “Grand salon Louis XVI,” from Nouveau manuel complet du 164
tapissier décorateur (1901)

Fig. 2.36: G. Félix Lenoir, “The Horizontal Plane or Ground,” from Practical 165
and Theoretical Treatise on Decorative Hangings (ca. 1890)

Fig. 2.37: G. Félix Lenoir “Perspective Drawing on Squares or 165
Chess-Board Pattern,” from Practical and Theoretical Treatise on
Decorative Hangings (ca. 1890)

Fig. 2.38: G. Félix Lenoir, “Plan of a Drawing Room – Arrangement of 166
Furniture,” from Practical and Theoretical Treatise on Decorative
Hangings (ca. 1890)

Fig. 2.39: G. Félix Lenoir, “[Bedroom Elevation],” watercolor (1874) 166

Fig. 3.1: G. Félix Lenoir, [Bedroom], from Décors des fenêtres et des lits (1879) 229

Fig. 3.2: G. Félix Lenoir, “Salon Style Louis XVI,” from Décoration des 229
appartements (1887)

Fig. 3.3: G. Félix Lenoir, “Vestibule Style Louis XIII,” from Décoration des 230
appartements (1887)

Fig. 3.4: Auguste Caron, Interior décor for the first act of Moses (1827), 230
watercolor after the stage-set by Pierre-Luc-Charles Cicéri

Fig. 3.5: G. Félix Lenoir, “Baie sur un petit salon, cheminée Louis XIII, 231
Meubles Divers,” from Décors des fenêtres et des lits (1879)

xii

Fig. 3.6: Édouard Manet, Masked Ball at the Opera (1873) 231

Fig. 3.7: G. Félix Lenoir, Projet de décoration pour salle à manger Renaissance 232
(1870)

Fig. 3.8: Grand Salon du Pavillon de la Commission Française à l’Exposition 232
d’Amsterdam, Portefeuille de la Revue des arts décoratifs (1883)

Fig. 3.9: Pierre Mazaroz, “Salon de chasse,” from D. Guilmard, La Décoration 233
au XIXe siécle (c. 1870)

Fig. 3.10: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Intérieur de salon genre Louis XV,” 233
from D. Guilmard, La Décoration au XIXe siécle (c. 1870)

Fig. 3.11: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Cheminée salle à manger, genre 234
Renaissance,” from D. Guilmard, La Décoration au XIXe siécle (c. 1870)

Fig. 3.12: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, [Wall Treatment], from Décors intérieurs 234
(1869)

Fig. 3.13: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, [Cabinet], from Décors intérieurs (1869) 235

Fig. 3.14: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, [Ceiling], from Décors intérieurs (1869) 235

Fig. 3.15: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, [Interior View], from Décors 236
intérieurs (1869)

Fig. 3.16: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Cheminée pour un grand vestibule, 236
style Renaissance,” from L’Architecture, la décoration, l’ameublement
(c. 1873)

Fig. 3.17: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Élévation, pour un grand vestibule style 237
Renaissance,” from L’Architecture, la décoration, l’ameublement
(c. 1873)

Fig. 3.18: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Crédence pour un grand vestibule, style 237
Renaissance,” from L’Architecture, la décoration, l’ameublement (c. 1873)

Fig. 3.19: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Fontaine-lavabo, pour un grand 238
vestibule style Renaissance,” from L’Architecture, la décoration,
l’ameublement (c. 1873)

xiii
Fig. 3.20: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Chambre à coucher Henri II,” 238
from D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble: Collection de tentures (1882)

Fig. 3.21: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Fond du salon Henri II,” from 239
D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble: Collection de tentures (1882)

Fig. 3.22: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Meuble Henri II,” from D. Guilmard, 239
Le Garde-meuble: Collection de meubles (1882)

Fig. 3.23: Désiré Guilmard, “Intérieur de cabinet de travail d’amateur,” 240
from D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble ancien et moderne: Collection
de tentures (1863)

Fig. 3.24: Désiré Guilmard, “Intérieur de cabinet de travail d’amateur,” from 240
D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble ancien et moderne: Collection de
tentures (1863)

Fig. 3.25: James Roberts, The Queen’s Sitting-Room at Buckingham Palace, 241
watercolor (1848)

Fig. 3.26: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Portière, genre gothique,” from Le Carnet 241
du tapissier moderne (c. 1882)

Fig. 3.27: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Croisée pour vestibule, genre moderne,” 241
from Le Carnet du tapissier moderne (c. 1882)

Fig. 3.28: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Portière, style gothique,” from La Tenture 242
moderne (1878-82)

Fig. 3.29: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Croisée pour vestibule, style moderne,” 242
from La Tenture moderne (1878-82)

Fig. 3.30: “Pièce Directoire,” Rapport de la commission d’installation (1900) 242

Fig. 3.31: Georges Rémon, “Salon de musique, Louis XV,” from Intérieurs 243
d’appartements modernes (c. 1892)

Fig. 3.32: Georges Rémon, “Chambre à coucher, Louis XIII,” from Intérieurs 243
d’appartements modernes (c. 1892)

Fig. 3.33: Georges Rémon, “Salon Régence,” from Intérieurs d’appartements 244
modernes (c. 1892)

xiv
Fig. 3.34: Georges Rémon, “Salle à manger gothique,” from Intérieurs 244
d’appartements modernes (c. 1892)

Fig. 3.35: The Lady and the Unicorn, “Touch,” 15
th
century 245

Fig. 3.36: Georges Rémon, “Intérieur mauresque,” from Intérieurs 245
d’appartements modernes (c. 1892)

Fig. 3.37: Jean-Léon Gérôme, Femmes au bain, ca. 1876 246

Fig. 3.38: H. Sauvestre, “Chambre à coucher, genre grec,” from 246
D. Guilmard, La Décoration au XIXe siècle (c. 1870)

Fig. 3.39: Jean-Léon Gérôme, Le Roi Candaule, 1859 247

Fig. 3.40: H. Sauvestre, “Salle de bains, genre grec,” from D. Guilmard, 247
La Décoration au XIXe siècle (c. 1870)

Fig. 3.41: Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, La Source, 1856 247

Fig. 3.42: Jean-Léon Gérôme, Cléopâtre et César, 1866 248

Fig. 3.43: Jean-Léon Gérôme, Louis XIV et Molière, 1862 248

Fig. 3.44: Jean-Léon Gérôme, L’Intérieur grec. Le Gynécée, 1850 249

Fig. 3.45: Paul Delaroche, L’Assassinat du duc de Guise, 1835 249

Fig. 3.46: Émile Reiber, Reproduction after Jan Vredeman de Vries, 249
from L’Art pour tous (January 1868)

Fig. 3.47: Célestin-François-Louis Gosse, Louis XVI Boudoir, 1883 250

Fig. 3.48: Célestin-François-Louis Gosse, Louis XVI Boudoir, 1886 250

Fig. 3.49: Célestin-François-Louis Gosse, [Hindu-Style Boudoir], s.d. 251

Fig. 3.50: G. Félix Lenoir, Medieval Dining-Room, 1889 251

Fig. 4.1: Ch. Fichot, “Grands Magasins du Bon Marché – La Galerie
des tableaux,” L’Illustration (6 March 1875)

Fig. 4.2: “Grands Magasins du Louvre,” Le Monde illustré (1877)

xv
Fig. 4.3: Louis Abel-Truchet, “Croquis,” A la Place Clichy: Les Tapis,
les tentures, les sieges ayant servi à la decoration du Salon des Artistes
Français seront soldés avec des rabais énormes, Lundi 6 juillet ([Paris]:
[A la Place Clichy], [1903])

Fig. 4.4: Louis Abel-Truchet, “Croquis,” A la Place Clichy: Les Tapis,
les tentures, les sieges ayant servi à la decoration du Salon des Artistes
Français seront soldés avec des rabais énormes, Lundi 6 juillet ([Paris]:
[A la Place Clichy], [1903])

Fig. 4.5: Journal du Tapis Rouge: Echo des nouveautés Parisiennes
(1-10 Octobre 1886)

Fig. 4.6: Journal du Tapis Rouge: Echo des nouveautés Parisiennes
(1-10 Dec. 1888)

Fig. 4.7: Journal du Tapis Rouge: Echo des nouveautés Parisiennes
(1-10 Dec. 1888)

Fig. 4.8: Jules Carot, Catalogue Cover, Au Bon Marché Nouveautés: Album de
l'ameublement. Maison Aristide Boucicaut (Paris: [Au Bon Marché],
[1880])

Fig. 4.9: P.P., “Époque Louis XVI: Spécimen de lit grand modèle en noyer
sculpté…,” Au Bon Marché Nouveautés: Album de l'ameublement.
Maison Aristide Boucicaut (Paris: [Au Bon Marché], [1880])

Fig. 4.10: P.P., “Chambre à coucher Louis XVI,” Au Bon Marché Nouveautés:
Album de l'ameublement. Maison Aristide Boucicaut (Paris: [Au Bon
Marché], [1880])

Fig. 4.11: “Tapisserie et ameublements des Magasins du Bon Marché,” Au Bon
Marché Nouveautés: Album de l'ameublement. Maison Aristide Boucicaut
(Paris: [Au Bon Marché], [1880])

Fig. 4.12: Jules Carot, “No. 119: Cabinet de travail,” Au Bon Marché
Nouveautés: Album de l'ameublement. Maison Aristide Boucicaut
(Paris: [Au Bon Marché], [1880])

Fig. 4.13: E. Mathiot, “Cabinet de travail Louis XIII,” Au Bon Marché, Maison
Artistide Boucicaut: Nouveautés, Album de l'Ameublement (Paris:
[Au Bon Marché], [1885])

xvi
Fig. 4.14: E. M., “No. 96: Fauteuil Renaissance en blanc, 145 fr.,” Au Bon
Marché, Maison Artistide Boucicaut: Nouveautés, Album de
l'Ameublement (Paris: [Au Bon Marché], [1885])

Fig. 4.15: Emile de Ruaz, Catalogue Cover, Au Bon Marché Nouveautés,
Maison Aristide Boucicaut: Album de l'Ameublement. Tapisserie,
sièges & décors ([Paris]: [Au Bon Marché], [1899])

Fig. 4.16: Emile de Ruaz, “No. 5162: Chambre à coucher Louis XV,” Au Bon
Marché Nouveautés, Maison Aristide Boucicaut: Album de l'Ameublement.
Tapisserie, sièges & décors ([Paris]: [Au Bon Marché], [1899])

Fig. 4.17: Emile de Ruaz, “Intérieur de chambre à coucher, style Louis XV
galbé,” Au Bon Marché, Maison Aristide Boucicaut: Lundi 19
Septembre et jours suivants, Exposition spéciale de Tapis, Ameublements
([Paris]: [Au Bon Marché], [1898])

Fig. 4.18: E. Mathiot, “Chambre à coucher moderne,” Au Bon Marché,
Maison Artistide Boucicaut: Nouveautés, Album de l'Ameublement
(Paris: [Au Bon Marché], [1885])

Fig. 4.19: Victor-Léon Quétin, “Fifteenth-Century Gothic Bedroom,” from
Le Magasin de meubles no. 25 (s.d.)

Fig. 4.20: G. Félix Lenoir, “Lit de repos,” from Décors de tous styles:
Décors de fenêtres et de lits, ensembles d'intérieurs et dispositions
diverses (Paris: Chez l’auteur, 1879)

Fig. 4.21: T.M., “No. 5190: Décor de baie (séparant deux salons)” and
M.T., “No. 5191: Intérieur de salon Louis XV,” Au Bon Marché
Nouveautés, Maison Aristide Boucicaut: Album de l'Ameublement.
Tapisserie, sièges & décors ([Paris]: [Au Bon Marché], [1899])

Fig. 4.22: G. Félix Lenoir, Plate no. 41, from Décors de tous styles: Décors
de fenêtres et de lits, ensembles d'intérieurs et dispositions diverses
(Paris: Chez l’auteur, 1879)

Fig. 4.23: G. Félix Lenoir, “Baie sue un petit salon,” from Décors de tous styles:
Décors de fenêtres et de lits, ensembles d'intérieurs et dispositions
diverses (Paris: Chez l’auteur, 1879)

xvii
Fig. 4.24: “No. 5194: Décor de baie, fantaisie, séparant deux salons, Intérieur
de style Louis XVI,” Au Bon Marché Nouveautés, Maison Aristide
Boucicaut: Album de l'Ameublement. Tapisserie, sièges & décors
([Paris]: [Au Bon Marché], [1899])

Fig. 4.25: Catalogue Cover, Grands Magasins du Louvre: Exposition spéciale
de tapis, carpettes, rideaux, et étoffes pour ameublements, Lundi
prochain, 17 Sept (Paris: [Grands Magasins du Louvre], [1888])

Fig. 4.26: Catalogue Cover, Grands Magasins du Louvre: Literie, Tapis,
Ameublement, Carpettes, Exposition Lundi 17 Septembre 1899 (Paris:
[Grands Magasins du Louvre], 1899)

Fig. 4.27: Catalogue Cover, Au Bon Marché, Maison Aristide Boucicaut:
Lundi 19 Septembre et jours suivants – Exposition spéciale de tapis,
ameublements (Paris: [Au Bon Marché], [1898])

Fig. 4.28: Anonymous, “Garniture de croisée Bonne Grâce” in Grands
magasins du Printemps, Album illustré des ameublements (Paris: Jules
Jaluzot, 1881)

Fig. 4.29: Victor-Léon Quétin, “Fenêtre Henri II, à draperies,” from
Le Magasin de meubles no. 25 (Paris: V.L. Quétin, s.d.)

Fig. 4.30: G. Félix Lenoir, “Louis XIII Drapery” in Designs for Windows
and Beds (1879)

Fig. 4.31: Edvard Munch, Kiss by the Window, oil on canvas, 1892

Fig. 4.32: Gustave Caillebotte, Interior, Woman at a Window, oil on canvas, 1880

Fig. 4.33: Victor Rose, “No. 804-806: Meubles de Salon Coeur capitonné
(intérieur crn mélange),” Album de l'Ameublement des Grands Magasins
de Nouveautés du Tapis Rouge (Paris: [Au Tapis Rouge], [ca.1883])

Fig. 4.34: Alfred Guinard, “Fenêtre Henri II (Louvre),” from L’Ameublement 333
artistique: Carton du tapissier du XI au XIX siècle (Paris: l’auteur, 1881)

Fig. 4.35: “No. 18: Rideaux drap uni avec bandes…,” Album de l'Ameublement 334
des Grands Magasins de Nouveautés du Tapis Rouge (Paris: [Au Tapis
Rouge], [ca.1883])

xviii
Fig. 4.36: Alfred Guinard, “Fenêtre à lambrequin drapé (application), Style 235
Louis XIV” from L’Ameublement artistique: Carton du tapissier du XI
au XIX siècle (Paris: l’auteur, 1881)

Fig. 4.37: Victor Rose, “No. 10: Riche garniture de fenêtre…,” Album de 336
l'Ameublement des Grands Magasins de Nouveautés du Tapis Rouge
(Paris: [Au Tapis Rouge], [ca.1883])

Fig. 4.38: Catalogue Cover, Maison du Petit St Thomas: Album de 337
l'Ameublement (Paris: [Au Petit St-Thomas], [1890])

Fig. 4.39: “Salle à manger Henri II, en noyer ciré,” Maison du Petit St Thomas: 337
Album de l'Ameublement (Paris: [Au Petit St-Thomas], [1890])

Fig. 4.40: “Fumoir oriental: Tapisserie de la Maison du petit Saint-Thomas, 338
Paris,” Maison du Petit St Thomas: Album de l'Ameublement (Paris:
[Au Petit St-Thomas], [1890])

Fig. 4.41: “Salle à manger Henri II,” Back Cover (Paris: [Au Petit St-Thomas], 339
[1890])

Fig. 4.42: J. Hugard, “Décor de lit fantaisie, rideaux et draperies …,” A la Place 339
Clichy: Ameublements et meubles en bois, Lundi 4 Avril, Ouverture des
nouveaux salons de Tapisserie (Paris: [A la Place Clichy], [1898])

Fig. 5.1: Alexandre Sandier, “Bibliothèque – Côté mitoyen au salon,” from “La 383
Maison moderne IX: La Bibliothèque (fin),” Revue illustrée 2(22)
(June-Dec. 1886)

Fig. 5.2: Jules Verdellet, “Intérieur de boudoir, genre Louis XV,” from L'Art 383
pratique du tapissier (1882)

Fig. 5.3: E. Maincent, “Petits fauteuils fantaisie (Les bois laqués),” from 384
Le Garde-meuble: Collection de sièges 312 (1891)

Fig. 5.4: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Croisée de salon style Louis XIV,” 384
from La Tenture moderne: Collection variée de modèles de tous styles,
portières, garnitures de fenêtres, lambrequins, garnitures de lit, etc. ([1878])

Fig. 5.5: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Décor de croisée pour vestibule (Genre 385
Gothique Anglais),” from La Tenture moderne: Collection variée de
modèles de tous styles, portières, garnitures de fenêtres, lambrequins,
garnitures de lit, etc., vol. 2 ([1878])

xix
Fig. 5.6: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Croisée de fantaisie ou genre moderne,” 386
from La Tenture moderne: Collection variée de modèles de tous styles,
portières, garnitures de fenêtres, lambrequins, garnitures de lit, etc.,
vol. 2 ([1878])

Fig. 5.7: Henri de Noussanne, “Colonne,” from Le Goût dans l'ameublement 387
(1896)

Fig. 5.8: Henri de Noussanne, “Le retraite profane,” from Le Goût dans 387
l'ameublement (1896)

Fig. 5.9: Eugène Cottin, “Le retrait sacré,” from Henri de Noussanne, Le Goût 388
dans l'ameublement (1896)

Fig. 5.10: E. Maincent, “Croisée drapée avec ustensiles de marine & de pêche 389
employés comme ornements,” from Le Garde-meuble: Collection de
tentures 309 (1895)

Fig. 5.11: P. Brunet, “Croisée Gothique,” from Le Tapissier décorateur de 390
Paris (1879)

Fig. 5.12: P. Brunet, “Croisée Aubusson L. XIV,” from Le Tapissier décorateur 391
de Paris (1879)

Fig. 5.13: P. Brunet, “La Tragédie,” from Le Tapissier décorateur de Paris 392
(1879)

Fig. 5.14: P. Brunet, “La Comédie,” from Le Tapissier décorateur de Paris 392
(1879)

Fig. 5.15: P. Brunet, “Salle Aquatique Diurne,” from Le Tapissier décorateur 393
de Paris (1879)

Fig. 5.16: Alexandre Sandier, “Chambre de dame – Côté du lit,” from “La 393
Maison moderne: Chambre de dame,” Révue illustrée 13 (134)
(December 1891-June 1892)

Fig. 5.17: Alexandre Sandier, “Cabinet de toilette – Côté de la glace,” from 394
“La Maison moderne XIX: Cabinet de toilette,” Revue illustrée 14
(June-Dec. 1892)

Fig. 5.18: Alexandre Sandier, “Salon, côté de la salle à manger,” from “La 394
Maison moderne VII: Le Salon (fin),” Revue illustrée 2(18)
(June-Dec. 1886)

xx
Fig. 5.19: Alexandre Sandier, La Maison moderne X: La Salle à manger,” 395
Revue illustrée 3(32)” (Dec. 1886-June 1887)

Fig. 5.20: Alexandre Sandier, “Salle à manger – Petit côté du jardin,” from 396
“La Maison moderne X: La Salle à manger,” Revue illustrée 3(32)”
(Dec. 1886-June 1887)

Fig. 5.21: Alexandre Sandier, “Plafond,” from “La Maison moderne X: 396
La Salle à manger,” Revue illustrée 3(32)” (Dec. 1886-June 1887)

Fig. 6.1: Georges Rémon, “Chambre à coucher (vue d’ensemble en 405
perspective),” Intérieurs modernes (1900)

Fig. 6.2: Georges Rémon, “Chambre à coucher (face opposée au lit, vue 405
géométrale),” Intérieurs modernes (1900)

Fig. 6.3: Georges Rémon, “Chambre à coucher (détails de décoration: 406
1’armoire à glace, 2-chaise, 3-petite table, 4-chaise longue),” Intérieurs
modernes (1900)

Fig. 6.4: Georges Rémon, “Salle de bains (vue d’ensemble en perspective),” 406
Intérieurs modernes (1900)

Fig. 6.5: Maison Gouffé-Jeune, “Salle à manger gothique,” Gouffé-Jeune, 407
Catalogue d’ameublement ([1890])

Fig. 6.6: Maison Gouffé-Jeune, “Salle à manger Art Nouveau,” Gouffé-Jeune, 408
Catalogue d’ameublement ([1890])

Fig. 6.7: Édouard Bajot, “Boudoir,” L’Art nouveau: Décoration & ameublement 409
([1898])

Fig. 6.8: Édouard Bajot, “Bureau,” L’Art nouveau: Décoration & ameublement 410
([1898])

Fig. 6.9: Édouard Bajot, “Chambre à coucher,” L’Art nouveau: Décoration & 411
ameublement ([1898])

xxi
Abstract

This dissertation re-visits the history of the “modern” style in interior decoration.
Adopting the lenses of the emerging profession of the interior designer, which existed
in a parallel realm to that of official exhibitions dedicated to the “fine” arts, the
project re-writes the history of eclecticism as one about stylistic harmony and themed
décor. It analyses the aesthetic of the nineteenth-century bourgeois interior as
described in sources published during the second half of the century by professional
groups such as retailers, painters and sculptors, architects and illustrators, furniture
and stage designers, upholsters and cabinet-makers, and department store officials.
Together, their publications – prints and drawings, books and illustrations,
photographs, trade journals, and department store catalogs – came to influence the
shape and form the modern interior would take in the nineteenth century and the new
profession of the interior designer would adopt in the twentieth. Finally, the
dissertation argues that images of interior decoration designs were central to the
radical changes that took place in the making of the modern art market during the
second half of the nineteenth century, from the reintegration of the decorative arts
into a public circuit of significant state-sponsored exhibition to the eventual
development of the new aesthetic vocabulary of Art Nouveau.

1
Introduction

No decorative arts style has received more scholarly attention than French Art
Nouveau. Eminent historians, art historians, and museum curators alike have
invariably identified it as the “stylistic movement” which liberated decoration from
the grip of history and removed it from the shadows of the past.
1
Their interpretations
have almost invariably situated Art Nouveau within the European-wide search for a
unity of the arts, which had attempted “to disrupt the hierarchy of media,” to “reunite
art and craft,” and to “assert individual vision over function of materials.” The new,
“modern” style of interior decoration that French (and other European and American)
artists thus formulated was based in nature and, more importantly, was characterized
by a “total” aesthetic (Gesamtkunstwerk), which assured that every single element in
a room was designed and coordinated so as to contribute to the harmony of the
whole.
2
In short, Art Nouveau as a “new” style in interior decoration was both
responsible for and the outcome of a complete disavowal of historical eclecticism;
and, like Rococo interior ensembles, which historian Debora Silverman has identified

1
Debora Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle France: Politics, Psychology, and Style (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1989), Gabriel P. Weisberg, Edwin Becker, and Évelyne Possémé, eds.,
The Origins of L’Art Nouveau: The Bing Empire (Amsterdam: Van Gogh Museum, 2004), Gabriel P.
Weisberg, Art Nouveau Bing: Paris Style 1900 (New York: Abrams, in association with the
Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibition Service, 1986), Jean-Michel Leniaud, L’Art Nouveau
(Paris: Citadelles Mazenod, 2000), Paul Greenhalgh, ed., Art Nouveau: 1890-1914 (New York: Harry
N. Abrams, 2000), Stephen Eisenman, with Corinne Granof, eds., Design in the Age of Darwin: From
William Morris to Frank Lloyd Wright (Evanston, Ill.: Northwestern University Press, 2008), and
Victor Arwas, Art Nouveau: The French aesthetic (London: Andreas Papadakis, 2002) are just a few
of the numerous publications on the topic.

2
Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle France, p. 1 and p. 8, and Paul Greenhalgh, “Introduction:
The Style and the Age,” in Paul Greenhalgh, ed., Art Nouveau: 1890-1914 (New York: Harry N.
Abrams, 2000), p. 19.

2
as the primary starting point of the Art Nouveau movement in France, it was a real
“monument against bourgeois eclecticism.”
3
As such, scholars have held the new,
“modern” style of interior decoration that crystallized in France towards the end of
the nineteenth century responsible for the entombment of the cluttered interiors of the
past and the development of a new design aesthetic suitable to a new era.
Building on the current scholarship about Art Nouveau, this dissertation re-
visits the history of the “modern” style in interior decoration and re-positions its
origins earlier in the century in which it was born.
4
Adopting the lenses of the
emerging profession of the interior designer, which existed in a parallel realm to that
of official exhibitions dedicated to the “fine” arts, the project re-writes the history of
eclecticism as one about stylistic harmony and themed décor. By turning to the first
practitioners of this profession (“proto-designers,” as I will call them) and trying to
understand their artistic output, work-related arguments, group allegiances, and public
debates, the dissertation attempts to open a new window onto the formation of the
aesthetics of the private interior in the second half of the nineteenth century. In doing
so, it contends that current scholarship has not yet fully understood how nineteenth-
century citizens envisioned their interiors, blinded as it has been by a “modernist”

3
Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle France, p. 34. In fact, Silverman credits Edmond and Jules
de Goncourt with the rediscovery of private space conceived as an ensemble during the era of Louis
XV. See Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle France, p. 24.

4
Silverman dates the debut of the new style sometime between 1889 and 1900, a period which
witnessed a shift of emphasis from technology and industrial production to the domestic interior and
personal interiority. See Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle France. Other scholars observe the
new style coalescing around Siegfried Bing’s L’Art Nouveau gallery, in 1895. See especially
Weisberg, Art Nouveau Bing.

3
discourse that for too long has associated decoration with women, gender, and
unrestrained consumption.
5
To the contemporary eye, most nineteenth-century
bourgeois interiors were historically-accurate constructions of different spaces, other
times, and imaginary worlds. As a result, reading Art Nouveau as a reaction against
bourgeois eclecticism in decoration defines the movement as responding to something
that did not exist in the first place.
This projects attempts to redress the situation by understanding the aesthetic
of the nineteenth-century bourgeois interior as described in sources published during
the second half of the century by professional groups such as retailers, painters and
sculptors, architects and illustrators, furniture and stage designers, upholsters and
cabinet-makers, and even department store officials. Together, their publications –
prints and drawings, books and illustrations, photographs, trade journals, and
department store catalogs – not only contributed to the development of the profession
of interior designer in the second half of the nineteenth century but also helped define
the most desirable decorative styles that the modern interior should endorse. This
project, then, seeks to understand the relation of print culture to interior design and to
demonstrate how the marketing techniques developed by providers of furnishings and
interior decorating services in the second half of the nineteenth century came to
influence the shape and form the modern interior would subsequently take and the
new profession of the interior designer would adopt in the twentieth century.

5
Peter McNeil, “Designing Women: Gender, Sexuality, and the Interior Decorator, c. 1890-1940,” Art
History 17, no. 4 (December 1994).

4
Scholars such as Nancy Troy have already called for a re-evaluation of the
work of designers operating in a consumer market-place, long dismissed as
insignificant to an art historical scholarship primarily concerned with big names and
figures of genius.
6
Her research suggests that a much more porous relationship
existed between the worlds of fine art, decoration, and commerce than the modernist
discourse has led us to believe.
7
Developed by such early twentieth-century theorists
as the Austrian architect and designer Adolf Loos (1870-1933), a modernist,
functional aesthetic declared that the presence of ornament and decoration in general
was “a crime” that only resulted in childish babble, wasted labor, and wasted capital.
8

With theorists such as Loos, decoration was removed not only from the world of
“high” art but also from the discourse about modernism in general. But if Troy’s
focus has been the output of those designers associated with the world of fashion and
the ateliers d’art of early twentieth-century department stores, my research spans the
second half of the nineteenth century to show that the work of retailers and designers
was never separated from the world of fine art in the first place. Not only was the
work of those decorators that were part of the “trade” discussed and debated by the
same critics that analyzed the work of “fine artists,” including such names already

6
Nancy J. Troy, Modernism and the Decorative Arts in France: Art Nouveau to Le Corbusier (New
Haven: Yale University Press, 1991) and Nancy J. Troy, Couture Culture: A Study in Modern Art and
Fashion (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 2003).

7
Also see the more recent essay by Richard Meyer, “Big, Middle-Class Modernism,” in October 131
(Winter 2010), pp. 69-115.

8
Adolf Loos, “Ornament and Crime,” in Grace Lees-Maffei and Rebecca Houze, eds., The Design
History Reader (Oxford and New York : Berg, 2010), reprint of 1908 original.

5
familiar to art historians as Henry Havard (1838-1921) and Charles Blanc (1813-
1882), but decorators also produced and exhibited paintings at Salons and other
nineteenth-century exhibition venues that have traditionally been associated with the
world of fine art.
9
Such observations remove the discourse about the origins of Art
Nouveau from the 1890s and these years’ incorporation of the decorative arts within
the exhibition framework associated with the fine arts to a much earlier period that so
far has been deemed unworthy of art historical consideration due to its seemingly
unrestrained, eclectic mixtures of decorative styles from the past.
My research focuses on France, especially Paris, the quintessential modern
city and the “capital of the nineteenth century,” as Walter Benjamin asserted, and
spans the years between the wide-scale development of industrial production
beginning with Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte’s Second Empire and the proclamation of
Art Nouveau as the most distinctive French decorative style of the century around
1900.
10
During this period, France witnessed large-scale urban development,
including a boom in the retail industry and a widespread elaboration of commercial
display techniques. Places of leisure such as cabarets and department stores
welcomed their visitors in home-like, private settings, while private interiors opened

9
The separation between decoration and “high art” is historically studied by Peter Wollen,
“Fashion/Orientalism/The Body,” New Formations 1 (Spring 1987). As Wollen asserts, “the first wave
of historic modernism developed an aesthetic of the engineer, obsessed by machine forms and directed
against the lure of the ornamental and the superfluous.” See Wollen, “Fashion/Orientalism/The Body,”
p. 5. Modernist critics such as Clement Greenberg maintained that any references to decoration must
be removed from modern painting.

10
Walter Benjamin, “Paris: Capital of the Nineteenth Century,” Perspecta 12 (January 1969), pp. 165-
172.

6
their gates and showed their holdings and art collections in a manner similar to that of
public displays.
11
An artistic interchange between the private and the public realms
permeated everyday life and, through its contribution to image culture, the private
interior became central to the very definition of modern life itself, despite the fact that
our image of the modern city is one that opens more onto the street than the boudoir.
As scholars have noted, the new interior that emerged in the second half of the
nineteenth century assumed changes both in architectural form and in cultural
values.
12
Actual living spaces ranged from apartment buildings to newly-built
townhouses, but these often followed a similar floor pattern and architectural layout
in which inhabitants could move freely between private and public rooms.
13
With the
advent of new living quarters came the separation of work from home and,
consequently, an increase in the separation of spheres by gender, with women
habitually seen as confined to the home and men roaming freely all over the city.
14


11
For an account of the interplay between private and public spaces, see especially Elizabeth Emery
and Laura Morowitz, Consuming the Past: The Medieval Revival in Fin-de-Siècle France (Aldershot,
UK and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2003), Sharon Marcus, Apartment Stories: City and Home in
Nineteenth-Century Paris and London (Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: University of California
Press, 1999) and S. Hollis Clayson, “Looking within the Cell of Privacy,” in Peter Parshall, S. Hollis
Clayson, and Christiane Hertel, The Darker Side of Light: Arts of Privacy, 1850-1900 (Lund
Humphries, 2009).

12
Clayson, “Looking within the Cell of Privacy,” p. 43.

13
While the bedroom, for instance, was considered a private chamber in the home, the salon (drawing-
room), petit salon (parlor), and the dining-room were considered public spaces. So were the smoking-
room, billiards-room and study-cabinet, in wealthier dwellings. For more information on the layout of
private interiors see Monique Eleb and Anne Debarre, L’invention de l’habitation modèrne: Paris,
1880-1914 ([Paris] and [Bruxelles]: AAM/Hazan, 1995).

14
The story of the separation of spheres has best been told by Leonore Davidoff and Catherine Hall,
Family Fortunes: Men and Women of the English Middle Class, 1780-1850 (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1987). More recent scholarship, however, has brought such an argument under scrutiny,
and has carved for the modern woman its well-deserved place on the public scene, even inventing such

7
The private interior has been considered central to understanding the formation of the
bourgeoisie as the distinctly modern social class par excellence.
15
Building on the
scholarship of art historians such as Hollis Clayson, who have identified the private
interior as a “thematic hallmark of nineteenth-century art, a conspicuous presence in
both painting and the graphic arts,” my research shows that picturing the private
interior was itself a central feature of modernity.
16
Images of interior decoration
designs were central to the radical changes that took place in the making of the
modern art market during the second half of the nineteenth century, from the
reintegration of the decorative arts into a public circuit of significant state-sponsored
exhibition to the eventual development of the new aesthetic vocabulary of Art
Nouveau.
In 1879, for example, the French furniture designer (architecte
d’ameublement) P. Brunet won the silver medal at the Exposition internationale des
sciences appliqués à l’industrie for a sixty-plate book titled Le Tapissier décorateur
de Paris (The Upholsterer Decorator of Paris).
17
But rather than present his furniture

terms as the “female flâneuse.” See Anne Friedberg, Window Shopping: Cinema and the Postmodern
(Berkeley, Los Angeles and London: University of California Press, 1994), as well as the more recent
work on department stores, especially Erika Diane Rappaport, Shopping for Pleasure: Women in the
Making of London's West End (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2000).

15
See especially Michelle Perrot, ed., A History of Private Life IV: From the Fires of Revolution to the
Great War (Cambridge, Massachusetts and London, England: The Belknap Press of Harvard
University Press, 1990) for an account of the centrality of the private interior in the formation of new
social classes and new forms of sociability.

16
Clayson, “Looking within the Cell of Privacy,” p. 44.

17
P. Brunet, Le Tapissier décorateur de Paris (Paris: Librairie artistique, industrielle et littéraire Ch.
Juliot, 1879).

8
designs as stand-alone pieces ready to be adapted to and included in one home or
another, the artist chose to display them as part of unified interior compositions
complete with upholstery, decorative objects, and imaginary inhabitants. Thus an
“Asian Smoking Room” (Fig. 1) welcomed a group of languid women in exotic garb
instead of refined gentlemen in black frocks - eroticized odalisques that seemed to
have just stepped out of an Ingres or a Delacroix painting. Lying down in lethargic
poses, in rapture over languorous music and dream-inducing smoke, with breasts half
exposed, Brunet’s models followed a pre-established formula already promoted by
contemporary Orientalist paintings, and which also featured reclining women
surrounded by Eastern bric-à-brac, including the pipe and the coffee, music, as well
as low sofas, draperies, and fans.
18

Jules Verchère, another furniture designer (architecte-expert d’ameublement)
and winner of a gold medal at the same exhibition, also presented his works as part of
complete room ensembles. (Fig. 2) His book Mobilier ancien & moderne (Ancient
and Modern Furniture) followed Brunet’s practice of including human figures amidst
his furnishings. The image of a room decorated in the “Gothic Style” featured a
young man dressed in medieval attire, which both aligned the designer’s work with
the world of “high art” (especially that of troubadour paintings as well as the more
recent Pre-Raphaelite aesthetic) and confirmed the authenticity and accuracy of the

18
Art Historian Joan DelPlato establishes this vocabulary in her recent book on the representation of
the harem in nineteenth-century visual culture. See Joan DelPlato, Multiple Wives, Multiple Pleasures:
Representing the Harem, 1800-1875 (Madison and London: Fairleigh Dickinson University and
Associated University Press, 2002).

9
furniture and decorative objects in that room.
19
Such human figures rendered on paper
added educational goals to these draftsmen’s commercial ambitions. But while they
taught the general public something about nineteenth-century French art, exotic
destinations, or the national past, they also helped facilitate the viewer’s transposition
into the interior space represented. They promoted furniture pieces as desirable
commodities by virtue of viewers’ association with the characters they portrayed.
Equally significant, the pictures also planted the desire and offered an incentive to
purchase the decorating services of the artist responsible for the designs.
Such fanciful designs on paper as Brunet’s Asian Smoking-Room or
Verchère’s Gothic Room are neither integrated into the art historical canon nor do
they fully belong to the practical world of manufacturing workshops. Much like the
illustrations of IKEA catalogs today, which also employ “human mannequins” in
harmoniously-decorated interior ensembles in order to sell furnishings and other
interior decorating merchandize, these pictures open up a number of issues that are
central to this dissertation: the importance of picturing the interior as an appealing
image to nineteenth-century French middle classes, the democratization and
popularization of the art of interior decorating, the relationship between interior
decoration and fine art, and the relation between the aesthetic and the commercial
spheres in the latter half of the nineteenth century. Developed in an era that was
witness to the transition from a craft-based system of production to that of mass

19
Jules Verchère, Le Mobilier ancien & moderne (Paris: J. Verchère, [1880]). For more information on
Verchère, see Stéphane Laurent, “Jules Verchère, dessinateur d’ameublement,” Revista de História da
Arte e Arqueologia 2 (1996), pp. 139-48.

10
production, from pre-modern to industrial design, from guilds and trades to an open
market, these objects helped negotiate the professional status of their designers while
defining the aesthetic language of the modern interior for the public at large.
This dissertation, then, examines the art of interior design as it was formed
and represented in the prescriptive literature of the second half of the nineteenth
century in Paris, including in taste manuals, pattern books, watercolors and drawings,
illustrated magazines, and department store catalogs. Undeniably relevant as guides to
the construction of a “proper” interior, such objects seemed nevertheless to have lives
of their own. By examining five different aspects of the new profession of interior
design, I illuminate the role that print culture played in forming the modern interior,
in uniting the “high” and the “decorative” arts, as well as in laying the groundwork
for the development of new styles and the new profession of the interior designer at
the end of the nineteenth century. My approach in each of my five chapters is to
investigate the interior through a set of images. I pay special attention to the variety of
occupational groups involved in the private interior’s visualization and production, to
the various media that allowed the latter’s formulation and circulation in visual form,
and to the contributions these groups and their representational strategies made to the
development of the profession of interior designer. While the ultimate goal is to
understand the aesthetic development of the private interior through the advancement
of the profession of interior designer, my corpus of primary documents are visual and
textual representations of ideal interiors rather than of realized interiors themselves.

11
Through popular advice manuals and pattern books, my first chapter,
“Redefining Eclecticism: Orchestrating the Private Interior in Nineteenth-Century
France, 1870-1914,” proposes a new look at what scholars of nineteenth-century
interiors have interpreted as the rise of the eclectic interior. By bringing together two
forms of advice literature that art historians to this point have treated separately, and
in which they have seen either women as house decorators or men as collectors, the
chapter argues that collecting and decorating were related activities in the second half
of nineteenth-century France. The common discourse about collecting and decorating
brought an unprecedented interest in the appearance of the private interior, a topic
that became a matter of concern for both the upper and the middle classes. The
nascent practice of interior design, therefore, was negotiated on paper as much as in
the real and fabulous interiors of the upper classes, which had for a long time kept an
eye on the harmony of their surroundings. Rather than representing an eclectic style,
the chapter identifies the ideal private interior in the second half of nineteenth-century
France as a harmoniously themed environment, distinguishable first and foremost
through stylistic unity and historical accuracy.
20

Chapter 2, “Selling Interior Decoration Designs: Upholsterers, Interior
Decorators, and the French Art World,” focuses on the work of the nineteenth-century
upholsterer and interior decorator Jules Verdellet (ca.1810s/1820s – ca. 1883) as
typical of a new kind of decorator. The chapter argues that, in an attempt to gain

20
For a history of how the upper classes have influenced the appearance of private homes in the
eighteenth century, see especially Joan E. DeJean, The Age of Comfort: When Paris Discovered
Casual -- and the Modern Home Began (New York: Bloomsbury, 2009).

12
commissions, upholsterer-decorators such as Verdellet positioned themselves as
providers of aesthetic capital through published models of interiors. In a world that
brought the inside out into the public eye through paintings, watercolors, prints, and
popular book and journal illustrations, publications such as Verdellet’s The Practical
Art of the Upholsterer were increasingly marketed as collections of works of art even
more so than as practical manuals. Available to the general public, such collections of
images promoted their authors as providers of interior decorating services while
disguising their commercial interests. Finally, as the ones most responsible for the
proliferation of the nineteenth century’s so-called “goût tapissier,” the chapter shows
that upholsterers originated the birth of the interior designer as a profession in the
nineteenth century.
Chapter 3, “Commercializing and Aestheticizing the Interior in Visual Form:
Exhibiting Interior Decoration Designs,” argues that, if generally rejected by the
established “high art” system, decorators found their way in through the back door –
namely, through mass-produced interior architecture images that were consumed by a
public even larger than the one that customarily attended the official Salons. This
chapter examines the work of decorators related to the world of theater, who also
published illustrated pattern books of interior decoration designs. Through prints,
watercolors, and especially book illustrations, these designers brought the fantastic
world of ephemeral décor to the private interior, while defining the latter and its
representation as an art form worthy of exhibit at official exhibitions in its own right.
By displaying their work in books, these decorators outsmarted the beaux-arts system

13
and made themselves known to a larger public that began to recognize the value of
their designs in new ways. Available in several formats (folios, octavos, etc.),
different media (lithographs, photographs, héliogravures, etc.) and at various prices,
publishers marketed pattern books and their images not least as collectibles to be
displayed in nineteenth-century French bourgeois interiors.
Department stores provided an ideal venue for the new blending of art and
commerce. In Chapter 4, “Selling Furniture as an Image in Late Nineteenth-Century
Department Stores,” I examine the advertising tactics of Parisian department stores
involved in the art and business of interior decorating in the latter half of the
nineteenth century. I investigate the way the stores sold furniture as an interior
landscape in mail-order furniture catalogs, and I identify direct links between the
world of “fine art” and the world of commerce at the time. This relationship allowed
for interior design concepts to be commercialized on a wide scale. The chapter, then,
also studies the democratization and popularization of the art of interior decoration
and design, which, through the department store, became available to the middle
classes. It argues that people of a relatively wide socio-economic status now could
dream about and even afford to recreate in three dimensions within their homes the
images that they would have admired on paper in books, journals, and catalogs.
The fifth and last chapter, Le Juste Milieu: Alexandre Sandier, Theming, and
the Development of Art Nouveau in French Interiors of the Nineteenth Century,”
examines the role played by a group of journals and the latter’s illustrations in the
formulation of Art Nouveau, the movement which art historical scholarship has most

14
often associated with completely unified interior décor at the time. In particular, it
studies the work of the architect and decorator Alexandre Sandier (1843-1914) in the
context of interior decorating manuals and illustrated journals in Third Republic
France. Following the innovations in interior décor popularized through such media
and encouraged by a new understanding of the petit salon’s and the boudoir’s proper
decoration, Sandier replaced the traditional forms and themes of history with new,
refreshing, and never-before-seen interior design combinations. His designs for
private interiors adopted and even pioneered the new aesthetic vocabulary of Art
Nouveau both in theory and in visual form.
Rather than developed entirely in the twentieth century, as current scholarship
leads us to believe, the profession of interior designer assumed traits that characterize
the profession before the development of the Art Nouveau aesthetic in the last
decades of the nineteenth century. While scholars focusing on interior design have
typically associated the development of the profession of the interior designer with
women such as the Americans Edith Wharton (1862-1937), Candace Wheeler (1827-
1923), and Elsie de Wolfe (1865-1950), I show that the new profession first became
popular in France, in the second half of the nineteenth century.
21
Art historians such

21
Anne Massey, “The Emergence of Interior Decoration as a Profession,” in Interior Design of the
Twentieth Century (London and New York: Thames and Hudson, 2001) and Penny Sparke, Elsie de
Wolfe: The Birth of Modern Interior Decoration (New York: Acanthus Press, 2005). Other scholars
find the origins of the profession of interior decorator in fashion, with such ventures as Paul Poiret’s
1911 Atelier Martine. See Penny Sparke, “Interior Design and Haute Couture: Links between the
Developments of the Two Professions in France and the USA in the Late Nineteenth and Early
Twentieth Centuries - A Historiographic Analysis,” Journal of Design History 21, no. 1 (2008), p. 103.
For more information on Poiret, see Nancy J. Troy, “Reconstructing Art Deco: Purism, the Department
Store, and the Exposition of 1925,” in Troy, Modernism and the Decorative Arts, and especially Troy,
Couture Culture.

15
as Anne Massey have identified the upholsterer, the cabinet-maker, and the retailer as
figures who had advised on the arrangement of interiors before what they have
labeled as the development of the profession of interior designer in the twentieth
century. However, the role these figures played in developing the rules of the game
that would become the art and business of interior decoration and design later on
remains to be further analyzed.
22
In order to understand the particularities of this new
profession, this dissertation argues for the importance of studying the display
techniques promoted by the furniture and the department store catalog together with
those images circulating via interior architecture pattern books and within such public
sites of conversation and debate as the illustrated magazine.
As the ones most capable of studying buildings from a structural point of
view, architects claimed the right to be the sole providers of interior design services
throughout most of the nineteenth century. But following the dissolution of guilds,
other design professionals, including upholsterers, cabinet-makers, retailers, stage
designers, and illustrators, made equal claims to the world of interior design. As
“proto-designers,” they proposed viable interior projects for a variety of clients, even
if primarily on paper, and despite the fact that the interior design profession had not
yet acquired its name. Much like real, three-dimensional interiors, illustrations of
interior decoration designs distributed through such media served as weapons on the
battleground for interior decorators’ public recognition and support. This dissertation,


22
See Massey, “The Emergence of Interior Decoration,” p. 123.

16
then, attempts to understand the separation of interior design from architecture, two
forms of art that have co-existed as one throughout the early modern period. But more
than this, it also argues that the new interior design profession emerged not only out
of the new stylistic principles and new aesthetic vocabularies of theming and
historicism but also from new sectors of commercial production, new spaces of
display, and especially from an openness and fluidity of people working between art
and design.
Finally, my project also addresses the literature which has associated the
practice of interior decoration with women due to its demand for “ornamental rather
than structural alteration, a reworking of surfaces, textures, fabrics, and finishes,
rather than a construction or substantial reshaping of space,” as art historian Richard
Meyer has observed.
23
As such, interior decoration has been separated not only from
architecture but also from the practice of collecting, a more “serious” activity, and,
therefore, the realm of men.
24
My research builds on the scholarship about the
obsessive accumulation and display of things in nineteenth-century bourgeois culture,
which has proposed eclecticism as the guiding force behind nineteenth-century
interiors as well as the direct result of women’s involvement in the decoration of
private spaces, to show that a complete identification of interior decoration with the
realm of women, or, at most, with that of effeminate or homosexual men cannot be

23
Meyer, “Big, Middle-Class Modernism,” p. 69.

24
See especially Leora Auslander, Taste and Power: Furnishing Modern France (Berkeley: University
of California Press, 1996).

17
taken for granted.
25
Indeed, with the advent of mass production, the availability of
cheaper furniture and inexpensive decorative objects, including fakes and copies after
more valuable and original antiques – the primary choice in decoration at the time –
raised serious concerns about the integrity and harmony of the décor of middle-class
interiors. Historians such as Deborah Cohen and Lisa Tiersten have taken great pains
to explain and establish the significance of a so-called “eclectic” décor in French and
British interiors of the nineteenth century, which seemed to purposely avoid any
decorating rules and restrictions.
26
Cohen has identified religion and issues of
morality as undergirding Victorians’ pursuit of an aesthetic of eclecticism at a time
when it became increasingly difficult to tell people apart and when possessions
became a way of defining oneself in society.
27
The more outrageous and
idiosyncratic the interior looked the better. Tiersten, on the other hand, has defined
the female consumer as an artist, and has labeled the decorative outcome of her
“eclectic eye” in the design of interiors as “marketplace modernism.”
28
On the

25
See Meyer, “Big, Middle-Class Modernism,” McNeil, “Designing Women,” Joel Sanders, “Curtain
Wars: Architects, Decorators, and the 20th-Century Domestic Interior,” in Harvard Design Magazine
(Winter/Spring 2002), pp. 14–20, and especially Lisa Tiersten, Marianne in the Market: Envisioning
Consumer Society in Fin-De-Siècle France (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001), Whitney
Walton, France at the Crystal Palace: Bourgeois Taste and Artisan Manufacture in the Nineteenth
Century (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1992, and Auslander, Taste and Power. On French
eclecticism in interior decoration see especially Rémy Gilbert Saisselin, The Bourgeois and the Bibelot
(New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1984).

26
See Deborah Cohen, Household Gods: The British and Their Possessions (New Haven: Yale
University Press, 2006) and Tiersten, Marianne in the Market.

27
Cohen writes: “Victorians, caught between the commands of religious restraint and the lure of their
newfound wealth, came up with an ingenious solution. Things had moral qualities.” See Cohen,
Household Gods, p. x.

28
Tiersten, Marianne in the Market, p. 7.

18
contrary, this dissertation proves not only that nineteenth-century men and women
were equally involved in decorating their private abodes but also that the private
interior scarcely was the home of such an eclectic array of objects as we thus far have
believed.
29

Finally, the nineteenth-century interest in period rooms and the present-day
attempt to achieve their accurate reproduction in both American and European
museums in recent times have led scholars to treat nineteenth-century illustrations of
interiors as transparent representations of contemporary homes.
30
Yet my more
nuanced analysis of the circumstances behind the circulation and display of these
images, including the institutional histories of the publishing houses that brought
them to light and the interior decorating businesses that used them as models, reveals
how concerns such as artistic reputation and financial gain informed their production
and affected their final appearance. As art historian Charles Rice asserts, it was only
from the beginning of the nineteenth century that the interior came to mean “the
inside of a building or a room” as well as “a picture or representation of the inside of

29
Deborah Cohen also establishes a role for men in the decoration of private interiors. Yet she fails to
see any guiding principle behind the decoration of private interiors in Victorian England. To her, the
virtue of these homes came exactly from their eclectic nature.

30
See especially Peter Thornton, Authentic Decor: The Domestic Interior, 1620-1920 (New York:
Viking, 1984), Mario Praz, An Illustrated History of Interior Decoration: From Pompeii to Art
Nouveau (London: Thames and Hudson, 1964) and Charlotte Gere, Nineteenth-Century Decoration:
The Art of the Interior (New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1989). For more information on the history of
period rooms in museum displays of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries see Amelia Peck, ed.,
Period Rooms in the Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art and H.N.
Abrams, 1996) and Bruno Pons, French Period Rooms, 1650-1800: Rebuilt in England, France, and
the Americas (Dijon: Faton, 1995).

19
a building or room.”
31
According to Rice, the representation of the private interior as
a picture cannot provide direct access to historical conditions of domesticity at the
time.
32
In line with Rice’s argument, rather than consider these images as transparent
representations of real interiors in existence at the time, this dissertation analyzes
pictures of imaginary interiors in and of themselves. As such, many of the interior
decoration designs discussed in this dissertation are able to illuminate the inextricable
relationship that existed between the fine and the decorative arts during this period –
with many of these illustrations of interiors occupying both spaces at the same time –
as well as to suggest a range of aesthetic experiences that go beyond such frivolos
“fine arts” and “decorative arts” distinctions.
By focusing on French sources, until now scarcely treated in a design history
literature still indebted to the Anglo-American world and such movements as the
Eastlake style in the United States and the Arts and Crafts movement in Britain, the
project departs from prevalent modernist discourses that favor such “star” figures as
William Morris and John Ruskin in order to re-contextualize nineteenth-century
interior decoration through its artistic and commercial histories as evidenced in the
period’s print media.
33
Reconsidering the intersections between the visual, the

31
Charles Rice, The Emergence of the Interior: Architecture, Modernity, Domesticity (London and
New York: Routledge Taylor & Francis Group, 2007), p. 2.

32
Ibid., p. 5.

33
Many recent publications treat the Arts and Crafts and the Aesthetic movements as the two
quintessential modern design aesthetics. See, for example, Charlotte Gere, Artistic Circles: Design and
Decoration in the Aesthetic Movement (London: V & A Publishing, 2010), Wendy Kaplan, ed., The
Arts & Crafts Movement in Europe & America: Design for the Modern World (New York: Thames &
Hudson with the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, 2004), Peter Stansky, Redesigning the World:

20
material, and the imaginary, my research shows that illustrations of interiors did more
than serve as two-dimensional blueprints for the construction of three-dimensional
settings. Richly colored and beautifully designed, these images on paper functioned
as advertising schemes for the artists and enterprises that produced and popularized
them, contributed to an interest in and the development of the profession of interior
designer and of decorative themes and styles such as Art Nouveau, and were
consumed as works of art in their own right – admired, collected, put on library
shelves, hidden inside cabinets, and hung on private walls. As such, they mirrored the
viewing patterns of those art objects that art historians such as Hollis Clayson and
Peter Parshall have termed the “arts of privacy.” Such artworks included prints and
drawings, watercolors and books, medals and coins, small sculptures, and erotica.
They encouraged a mode of seeing characterized by secrecy and seclusion.
34

“Sequestering an object establishes the conditions for experiencing it,” as Peter
Parshall asserts, and the nineteenth-century bourgeoisie delighted in collecting small-
scale items for their viewing pleasures.
35
Circulating either as prints or in bound
editions of books, interior decoration designs, I suggest, became valuable collectibles
that were part of a set of objects found in most middle-class homes.

William Morris, the 1880s and the Arts and Crafts (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1985),
Lucia Van der Post, William Morris and Morris & Co (London: V&A Publishing, 2003), Diane
Waggoner, ed., “The Beauty of Life:” William Morris and the Art of Design (New York: Thames &
Hudson, 2003).

34
See Peter Parshall, “A Darker Side of Light: Prints, Privacy, and Possession,” in Peter Parshall, S.
Hollis Clayson, and Christiane Hertel, The Darker Side of Light: Arts of Privacy, 1850-1900 (Lund
Humphries, 2009), p. 3.

35
Ibid., p. 4.

21
Lying somewhere between two-dimensional representations and the world of
three-dimensional objects, interior decoration designs appealed to viewers’
imaginations as fantasy spaces onto which any and all desires could be projected.
Building on the work of scholars such as Marge Garber, who has drawn parallels
between a thriving porn industry and the business of twentieth-century real estate
advertising, this dissertation underscores the role of nineteenth-century imagination in
the development of the profession of interior designer and the formulation of new
decorative styles such as Art Nouveau.
36
Such an interpretation takes the practices of
interior decorating and design away from current debates about gender and decorating
in a feminized private sphere still clinging to the past and re-positions them in the
broader, and perhaps more meaningful contexts of collecting, professional networks,
commercial emporia, and art exhibitions, all of which responded to the needs and the
desires of the contemporary world and its modernity. Most of the artistic output that
was geared towards the private interior in the second half of nineteenth-century
France may not have developed one “consistent” style that would inhabit each
mansion and apartment or individual room all-over the country. However, it invented
a “system” of interior decoration, which saw that unity and harmony, as expressed
through one main theme, would guide the design of each interior. When read in the
context of the artistic output of the entire second half of the nineteenth century, new,
“modern” styles such as Art Nouveau appear integrated into this larger system instead
of standing out from it; and, rather than looking back to the past, the nineteenth-

36
Marjorie B. Garber, Sex and Real Estate: Why We Love Houses (New York: Pantheon Books, 2000).

22
century proto-designers studied in this dissertation were busy inventing the future. It
is to them that we owe the look of modernist interiors in the twentieth century, as well
as the importance of interior design as a marketable profession even up to this day.

23

Fig. 1: P. Brunet, “Fumoir Asiatique,” from Le Tapissier décorateur de Paris (1879)
Fig. 2: Jules Verchère, “Intérieur de salle en style gothique,” from Le
Mobilier ancien & moderne (ca. 1880)

24
Chapter 1:
Redefining Eclecticism:
Orchestrating the Private Interior in Nineteenth-Century France, 1870-1914

In or around 1892, the architect and decorator (architecte décorateur) Georges
Rémon (ca. 1853/54-ca. 1931) proposed the surprising inclusion of a reproduction
after Venus de Milo (late 2
nd
century BC) right next to one after the Florentine
sculptor Giambologna’s Mercury (ca. 1565) within a waiting room decorated in the
style of the Renaissance. (Fig. 1.1) Rémon’s pattern book, Intérieurs d’appartements
modernes (Interiors for Modern Apartments), rendered decorative schemes for
modern dwellings, while also encompassing such designs as a Louis XV bedroom, an
Oriental smoking-room, and a Gothic library, which, like the Renaissance waiting
room, were decorative themes already well-established within the revivalist canon
characteristic of the nineteenth century French historicist aesthetics in decoration.
37
A
student and nephew of Alexandre-Eugène Prignot (1822-ca. 1885), who himself had
studied under the chief decorator of the Paris Opéra, Pierre-Luc-Charles Cicéri
(1782-1868), Georges Rémon was in all probability the son of Henri Alphonse

37
Georges Rémon, Intérieurs d'appartements modernes (Dourdan: E. Thézard Fils, [1892]). I have
determined the book’s approximate publication based on Camille Krantz’s Rapports sur l’Exposition
internationale de Chicago en 1893: Comité 34, Imprimerie et Librairie – Cartographie (Paris:
Imprimerie Nationale, 1894). The Librairie spéciale d’architecture E. Thézard Fils is listed as having
sent Rémon’s Intérieurs d’appartements modernes as part of its exhibit. Moreover, the Winterthur
Library owns a copy of Rémon’s book that was signed and dated by the British architect W. F. Randall
(William Frederick) in 1892. For more information about the age of historicism and its effects on
interior decoration in nineteenth-century France see the catalogue Un Âge d’or des arts décoratifs,
1814-1848, Galeries nationales du Grand Palais, Paris, 10 octobre – 30 décembre 1991 (Paris:
Réunion des Musées Nationaux, 1991). For a key text about the development of a new interest in
history at the same time, see Stephen Bann, The Clothing of Clio: A Study of the Representation of
History in Nineteenth-Century Britain and France (Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University
Press, 1984).

25
Rémon (1819-ca. 1900). Born in Hampstead, United Kingdom, probably in 1853/54,
at the time when Henri Alponse was working on the decoration of the Cliveden
House near Windsor, Georges Rémon appears to have contributed designs of interiors
to various publications up until 1931, the year in which he possibly died.
38

Throughout his career, the artist published more than a dozen books and exhibited
watercolors at the 1885 and the 1891 Salons, the 1889 Paris Exposition universelle,
and the various exhibitions of the Union Centrale des Arts Décoratifs.
39
An
architecte-décorateur, Rémon had achieved wide public recognition by 1900, when,
together with Henri Rémon (possibly his father), he became the official decorator of
the Centennial Museum of Furniture and Decoration (Musée centennal du mobilier et
de la décoration) at the Exposition universelle.
40
How could a respectable decorator

38
Like Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, Henri Alphonse Rémon had also been a student of Cicéri. At the
time when Henri Alphonse Rémon was there, Prignot was also working in England, most notably for
the furnishing firm of Jackson and Graham. See the entry on “Alexandre Eugène Prignot” in Ulrich
Thieme and Felix Becker, Allgemeines Lexikon der bildenden Künstler von der Antike bis zur
Gegenwart, vol. 27 (Leipzig: Verlag von E. A. Seemann, 1933), pp. 401-402, as well as the entry on
Henri Alphonse Rémon in Ulrich Thieme and Felix Becker, Allgemeines Lexikon der Bildenden
Künstler von der Antike bis zur Gegenwart, vol. 28 (Leipzig: Verlag von E. A. Seeman, 1934), p. 149.
For an extensive biography of Cicéri, see Catherine Join-Diéterle, Les Décors de scène de l’Opéra de
Paris à l’époque romantique (Paris: Picard, 1988), especially p. 260; and for Cicéri’s birth and death
dates, see the Getty Union List of Artist Names,
http://www.getty.edu/vow/ULANFullDisplay?find=Ciceri&role=&nation=&prev_page=1&subjectid=
500028495 (visited September 1, 2011). For more information on Prignot, see Olivier Gabet, “Le XIX
siècle, l'âge d'or de l'ornemaniste,” in L'Objet et son double: Dessins d'arts décoratifs des collections
du Musée d'Orsay (Paris: Musée d'Orsay, 2006), p. 13. Also see entry no. 157 on Rémon in the 1885
Architecture section of the official Paris Salon, in Pierre Sanchez and Xavier Seydoux, eds., Les
Catalogues des Salons, vol. 14 (Paris: Echelle de Jacob, 1999-2010).

39
Some of Rémon’s publications are Soixante planches de peinture décorative (Dourdan: Librairie
spéciale d’architecture, É. Thézard fils, [1880-1900]), La Décoration de style (Dourdan: E. Thézard,
[1900s]), and Intérieurs d'appartements modernes, all published by É. Thézard.

40
Maurice Le Corbeiller, Musée Centennal des classes 66, 69, 70, 71, 97: Mobilier et décoration à
l’Exposition universelle internationale de 1900, à Paris, Rapport de la commission
d’installation (Saint-Cloud: Impr. Belin, 1900).

26
such as Rémon, responsible for the Centennial Museum and the historically-accurate
period rooms installed therein, engage in such “decorative blunders” as placing an
antique sculpture discovered not earlier than 1820 within a Renaissance decorative
scheme?
41
While a reproduction of Giambologna’s bronze sculpture Mercury of ca.
1565 seems a reasonable choice for such an interior, how can one explain the
presence of Venus de Milo in the same room?
Indeed, the private interiors during the second half of the nineteenth century in
France, England, and America have traditionally been seen as assemblages of
unrelated objects of radically different aesthetic values and backgrounds, not unified
by theme, and amalgamated in one setting without rhyme or reason. “Too much of
anything from anywhere in the same space” is how scholars such as Rémy G.
Saisselin have defined the so-called “bourgeois style” of the nineteenth century.
42

Displaying an “accumulation” of things, from valuable art objects to mass-produced
fakes, imitation-furniture, and decorative items, private interiors have generally been
described as “cluttered.”
43
Oriental objects set in neo-Medieval or neo-Renaissance
settings or Ancient artifacts displayed in Renaissance-themed interior environments
have been seen as characteristic of a bricabracomania thought to be on rampage at
the time. As a consequence, the bourgeois interior filled with bric-à-brac has often

41
For an account of Venus de Milo’s discovery in 1820 see William Tufts Brigham, Cast Catalogue of
Antique Sculpture: Illustrated by Photographs with an Introduction to the Study of Ornament (Boston:
Lee Shepard & Co, 1874).

42
Saisselin, The Bourgeois and the Bibelot, p. 68.

43
Ibid.

27
been characterized as eclectic.
44
Yet a study of the ideal private interior, as it was
represented in French collecting and decorating advice manuals at the time, suggests
that a very strict set of guidelines governed the interior decorating practices of upper
and middle-class Parisians.
45
By bringing together two forms of advice literature that
scholars of the nineteenth century have separated so far, one dedicated to women as
house decorators, the other dedicated to men as collectors, this chapter argues that
rather than eclectic interiors (as they might appear to an untrained eye) decorated in
various styles, they were, in fact, carefully orchestrated decorative ensembles guided
by the rules of historic revivalism and themed décor, which attempted to create a
collection of different times and places through interior decoration.
46
Its aesthetic
output long dismissed as insignificant due to inaccurate renditions of styles from the
past, the interior decor promoted by private interiors in the second half of the

44
On French eclecticism in interior decoration see Saisselin, The Bourgeois and the Bibelot, Gabriel
Badea-Päun, Le Style Second Empire: Architecture, décors et art de vivre (Paris: Citadelles et
Mazenod, 2009), Odile Nouvel-Kammerer, Le Mobilier Français: Napoléon III, années 1880 (Paris:
Éditions Massin, 1996), and Janell Watson, Literature and Material Culture from Balzac to Proust:
The Collection and Consumption of Curiosities (Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University
Press, 1999). On French eclecticism in architecture, see Jean-Pierre Épron, Comprendre l’éclectisme
(Paris: Instiut Français d’Architecture/Norma Editions, 1997).

45
Rachel Rich explains how any form of advice literature, regardless of whether it came in the form of
written advice manuals or illustrated pattern books, should be considered as a source for understanding
the ideal rather than reality in interior decoration. See Rachel Rich, “Designing the Dinner Party:
Advice on Dining and Décor in London and Paris, 1860-1914,” Journal of Design History 16, no. 1
(2003), pp. 49-61. For more information on the various types of advice literature for the home, as well
as their status between fact and fiction, advice and advertising, production and consumption, also see
Grace Lees-Maffei, “Introduction: Studying Advice: Historiography, Methodology, Commentary,
Bibliography,” Journal of Design History 16, no.1 (2003), pp. 1-14.

46
For the development of non-historic and non-exotic interior design themes that nevertheless
followed a similar decorative principle, see Anca I. Lasc, “Le Juste Milieu: Alexandre Sandier,
Theming, and Eclecticism in French Interiors of the Nineteenth Century,” Interiors: Design,
Architecture, Culture 2, no. 3 (November 2011), pp. 277-305.

28
nineteenth century set the standard for such later decorative styles more readily
associated with modern design as Art Nouveau while providing the necessary
ingredients for the development of the interior designer as a profession.
Scholars of private spaces in the modern world have traditionally portrayed
interior decorating as the affair of women, and have separated it from the more
serious pursuit of collecting, an activity that was suitable to men.
47
Scholars such as
Leora Auslander have associated women’s consumption of goods with the making of
family and class in the first part of the nineteenth century, and with that of the nation
in the second part.
48
Consequently, they have established women’s role in the
nineteenth-century home primarily as decorators. Contemporaries advised women not
to desire material goods too much, since, especially with the rise of department stores
in the second half of the nineteenth century, they risked developing kleptomaniac
impulses.
49
Forms of consumption associated with men, were, however, tied to the

47
The architect Joel Sanders has pointed out how profound social anxieties about gender and sexuality
have separated interior decorating (the affair of women) also from architecture (a manly pursuit). See
Sanders, “Curtain Wars.” Indeed, current scholarship on interior decorating still defines the first
professional interior decorators as women. See Anne Massey, Interior Design of the Twentieth Century
(London and New York: Thames and Hudson, 2001), especially Chapter 5, “The Emergence of
Interior Decoration as a Profession.” In another publication, Massey explicitly connects the profusion
of upholstery and cloth in nineteenth-century homes to a feminine influence in interior decoration, with
women’s tastes seen as closer to nature than culture. See Anne Massey, Chair (London: Reaktion
Books, 2011), p. 109. A similar view is also shared by Sparke, who identifies Elsie de Wolfe (1865-
1950) as the first professional interior decorator. See Sparke, Elsie De Wolfe. Richard Meyer, on the
other hand, has pointed out how this identification of interior decoration with femininity has been
extended also to “effeminate, homosexual, or otherwise ‘unmanly’ men.” See Meyer, “Big, Middle-
Class Modernism,” p. 70.

48
Auslander, Taste and Power, p. 278 and 295-302.

49
Ibid.

29
self, such as collecting and dandyism.
50
Since the private consumption of collectibles
paralleled the world of museums, “it is not surprising,” Auslander suggests, “that the
form of private consumption most closely resembling state consumption should have
been the one defined as ‘appropriately’ masculine.”
51

While historians of British material culture in the nineteenth century such as
Deborah Cohen have begun to acknowledge the prominent role that men played in the
decoration of their private interiors, scholars of nineteenth-century France have
largely maintained the separation of public and private spheres, characterizing the
home as a feminine realm and the home’s decoration as a feminine undertaking.
52

When they nod to the various continuities between collecting and decorating, they see
both as characterized by clutter and eclectic arrangements.
53
Literary historian Janell

50
Auslander asserts: “Consumption for the self, understood to be some kind of autoeroticism, was to
be reserved for men.” See Auslander, Taste and Power, p. 301.

51
Ibid., p. 302.

52
Cohen, Household Gods. While the separation of spheres has been challenged by a number of
scholars, most notably by Sharon Marcus, who has pointed out continuities between private and public
spaces in nineteenth-century apartment buildings, and Anne Friedberg, who has traced the presence of
the female flâneuse in the public realm, men’s role in French homes still needs to be more fully
understood. See Marcus, Apartment Stories and Friedberg, Window Shopping. Like Leora Auslander,
Whitney Walton and Lisa Tiersten also portray decorators as women and collectors as unmarried men.
See Walton, France at the Crystal Palace and Tiersten, Marianne in the Market. The work of
Katherine M. Kuenzli is an important exception. In her book, The Nabis and Intimate Modernism,
Kuenzli challenges binaries such as masculine/feminine and private/public by focusing on a group of
fin-de-siècle male artists that consistently worked as decorators for the private realm. See Katherine M.
Kuenzli, The Nabis and Intimate Modernism: Painting and the Decorative at the Fin-de-Siècle
(Farnham, Surrey, England and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2010).

53
In her book on Art Nouveau, historian Debora Silverman is one of the few scholars to have clearly
articulated the connections between collecting and decorating in nineteenth-century France by pointing
out the importance of harmonious interior ensembles. She, however, draws her conclusions from the
private collection and interior decorating schemes of the brothers Edmond and Jules de Goncourt, two
Parisian dandies who limited their collecting and decorating vocabulary to the eighteenth century. See
Debora Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle France: Politics, Psychology, and Style (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1989). Another exception is the work of Elizabeth Emery and Laura

30
Watson, for example, has identified a direct relationship between decorating and
collecting. In her book, Literature and Material Culture from Balzac to Proust: The
Collection and Consumption of Curiosities, Watson defines eclecticism as “the
incorporation of collecting into the home interior.”
54
While she maintains that
collecting cannot be dissociated from decorating, nor vice versa, Watson sees
harmonious interior ensembles emerging only in the later years of the nineteenth
century with the fin-de-siècle “artistic interiors” of such aesthetes as Edmond de
Goncourt (1822-1896) or Robert de Montesquiou (1855-1921).
55
On the contrary, this
article argues that before the fin-de-siècle and beyond the homes of rich collectors
and aesthetes, French interior decoration was chiefly characterized by harmonious
decorative ensembles that carefully avoided eclectic or miss-matched combinations of
objects and instead favored accurate renditions of different times and places that
translated into whole-room surrounds. By recognizing collecting and decorating as
related activities that involved and interested men and women alike, the article will
study advice manuals on collecting and decorating together, and will position them as
two literary forms that falsely appear to have attracted audiences of different genders.

Morowitz, who clearly connect collecting and interior decorating in a chapter titled “From the Living
Room to the Museum and Back Again: The Institutionalization of Medieval Art.” See Emery and
Morowitz, Consuming the Past. Emery and Morowitz connect the medievalesque décor of wealthy
apartment dwellers with private collections such as those of Alexandre du Sommerard at Cluny. While
they acknowledge the reanimation of other styles and themes from the past in private dwellings at the
time, the authors choose to focus on medieval revivals since, they argue, medievalism appealed to a
variety of social groups in a way that other eras did not. See Emery and Morowitz, Consuming the
Past, p. 8.

54
Watson, Literature and Material Culture, p. 58.

55
Ibid., pp. 64-65. Watson defines the “artistic interior” as “an intimate interior focalized on a highly
subjective total artistic experience.”

31
By redefining interior décor in non gender specific terms, a more complete image of
the nineteenth-century private interior will emerge.
Before we move to an analysis of the written discourse concerned with the
proper arrangement of the private interior, it is important briefly to dwell on the
social, cultural, and economic conditions under which such manuals emerged. While
the first part of this chapter outlines the changes in the art market and the perception
of the past in the first half of nineteenth-century France, the second part introduces
collecting and interior decorating manuals from the second half of the century that
were written by both men and women alike. These manuals produced a popular visual
culture of thematic interior decorating that can be better understood in relation to the
cultural changes experienced by the French population in the aftermath of the French
Revolution.
56
The chapter concludes with an examination of the work of the furniture
designer (architecte d’ameublement) Édouard Bajot (1853-1900s) in order to
understand how the theoretical tenets put forth in writing by collecting and decorating
advisors assumed visual form in images such as Georges Rémon’s.
As cultural historian Rosalind Williams has explained, starting with the
second half of the nineteenth century, many more people had “considerable choice in
what to consume, how and how much” in addition to the “leisure, education and

56
Tom Stammers also asserts that “the new opportunities for collecting and thinking about the bric-à-
brac of history” should be counted among the legacies of the 1789 Revolution. See Tom Stammers,
“The Bric-à-Brac of the Old Regime: Collecting and Cultural History in Post-revolutionary France,”
French History 22, no. 3 (September 2008), p. 314.

32
health to ponder these questions.”
57
The steady increase in purchasing power was
matched by technological changes, which lowered the cost of existing consumer
goods while providing entirely new ones.
58
Cheaper items produced under the new
factory system, or with new machines, proved irresistible to a new society which was
both financially and intellectually ready to consume for the home. Yet the wide
availability of objects and decorative choices during the Second Empire also installed
among contemporaries the fear that the French were not able to judge between good
and bad art anymore, or between successful and unfortunate decorative effects in their
homes.
A new regard for the past resulted in a better understanding of earlier
decorating styles, to the extent that many attempted to perfect the reproduction of a
specific period style within their homes by making all objects in a room belong to that
style. The 1830s have been characterized as a period of frenzied historicism in
France. The past served as the basis for novels, theaters, and museums; and French
people of disparate social backgrounds developed a taste for this past and its material
culture. Before this time, when such works of literature as Victor Hugo’s Notre-Dame
de Paris (1831) were published or such coherent displays of antiquities as Alexandre
du Sommerard’s collection in the ancient town-house of the Abbots of Cluny were
formed (beginning in 1832), curiosities from the past had not been objects of

57
See Rosalind H. Williams, Dream Worlds: Mass Consumption in Late Nineteenth-Century France
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1982), p. 4.

58
Ibid., p. 10.

33
commerce in France.
59
In the immediate aftermath of the 1789 Revolution and the fall
of the monarchy, a rejection of everything that had to do with the ancien régime had
caused the large-scale destruction of royal castles, aristocratic mansions, and church
holdings. Homes and monasteries were stripped of their decoration, furniture was
burned, and paintings were sold, while gilded decorations and bronze sculptures were
melted down to make new money for the nation and weapons for the army.
60
By
contrast, starting in the 1830s, King Louis-Philippe himself encouraged the recreation
of historically accurate period style decorative schemes in the royal palaces that he
restored, including Fontainebleau, Compiègne, Pau, Trianon, and Versailles.
61
As art
historian Rainer Haaff explains, “from about 1830/40 to the turn of the 20
th
century,
Historicism developed as a series of stylistic reversions to, and borrowings from,
earlier period styles.”
62
Beginning in the Second Empire, Neo-Gothic, Neo-
Renaissance, Neo-Classical, and Neo-Rococo interiors were thus not uncommon in
France.

59
See Auguste Luchet, “Les Arts Parisiens: Le Meuble,” in Rodolphe Pfnor, ed., Ornemenation
usuelle de toutes les époques dans les arts industriels et en architecture 16 (1 Oct. 1867), p. 28.

60
See Édouard Pommier, L’Art de la liberté: Doctrines et débats de la Revolution française (Paris:
Gallimard, 1991); Dominique Poulot, ‘Surveiller et s’instruire:’ La Révolution française et
l’intelligence de l’héritage historique (Oxford: Voltaire Foundation, 1996); and Erika Naginski, “The
Object of Contempt,” in Howard G. Lay and Caroline Weber, eds., Yale French Studies: Fragments of
Revolution 101 (2002), pp. 32-53.

61
The king had the various chambers in châteaux from the ancien régime restored in their original
styles or, as Leora Auslander explains, in styles deemed appropriate “to the different functions of the
rooms.” See Auslander, Taste and Power, p. 163.

62
Rainer Haaff, Louis-Philippe Möbel. Louis-Philippe Furniture: Bürgerliche Möbel des Historismus.
Middle-Class Furniture of the Historicism (Stuttgart: Arnoldsche, 2004), p. 11.

34
But if upper-class Frenchmen, including the new, so-called “triple aristocracy
of money, power, and talent” (or “of the bank, the ministry, and mass media”), could
afford such holistic design schemes for their private homes, the common
understanding until now has been that the middle and the lower-middle classes did
not partake in such endeavors, because they lacked the knowledge or the financial
means to do so.
63
The removal of the Bourbon branch of the royal family from power
and its replacement by the Orléans branch following the Revolution of 1830, with
King Louis-Philippe d’Orléans assuming the French throne, catalyzed the emergence
of a new upper class (“the elegant life,” or la vie élégante, as Balzac famously called
it) from a peripheral position to the center of Paris’ high society.
64
A new social class
that had no blood ties to the old French aristocracy, la vie élégante of the July
Monarchy (1830-1848) enjoyed substantial wealth and could afford to hire architects
and decorators to design and organize its private homes. But in the second half of the
nineteenth century, a plethora of publications about how to obtain the desired
decorative effects with less rather than more means, together with a growing market
in antiques and reproductions after antiques, suggests that less wealthy patrons could
achieve similar holistic design patterns in their dwellings. Old fabrics, old pottery,
and especially old furniture were sold “aged and dismembered,” including “panes and
cornices, a head, a foot, the top without the bottom, the door without the cupboard or

63
The expression was coined by Anne Martin-Fugier, La Vie élégante ou la formation du tout-Paris
1815-1848 (Paris: Fayard, 1990), p. 23.

64
Ibid. Balzac coined the term in an 1830 article published in La Mode.

35
the cupboard without its door.”
65
Starting during the middle of the nineteenth century,
when original objects became scarcer and prices rose too high, the growing interest in
such antiques allowed for restored fragments, adapted pieces, and re-accommodations
of antique objects to be produced. When not even these restorations and adaptations
sufficed, the Parisian furniture industry delved into the business of antique imitations,
thus permitting even more people to acquire furnishings in the style of their dreams.
66

Illustrated journals and auction houses provided a context in which to see and
understand the various objects resurfacing from the past. Published for the first time
in 1859, the Gazette des beaux-arts vouched to become one of the most important
source-bases of information regarding all matters of art and taste that were of direct
relevance to the amateur collector, including the new archeological discoveries made,
the new artists to have gained fame, the art objects recently acquired by both private
and public collections, and, last but not least, the holdings of the amateur collections
put up for sale.
67
As Charles Blanc, the journal’s editor, informed his readers, the
magazine was expecting in 1859 to have as many as ten thousand subscribers, all of
whom were interested in matters of art and taste, as well as in the collection and
preservation of art and historical curiosities. Only fifteen years earlier, Blanc

65
Turgan, “Fabrique d'ameublements en bois massif de MM. Mazaroz Ribaillier et Cie,” in Les
Grandes Usines: Études industrielles en France et à l'étranger, vol. 5 (Paris: Michel Lévy Frères,
1870), p. 181. Turgan also mentions the contribution of Victor Hugo to the development of the taste
for antiques. Also see Luchet, “Les Arts Parisiens,” p. 35.

66
See Turgan, “Fabrique d'ameublements en bois massif,” p. 182, who explains that the Maison
Mazaroz et Ribaillier started with repairs and then moved to the fabrication of outright copies.
Department stores also sold furniture copied after antiques.

67
Charles Blanc, “Introduction,” La Gazette des beaux-arts 1, no. 1 (1859), p. 11.

36
continued, such a publication would barely have attracted an audience larger than
eight hundred people.
68
He attributed this change to an interest in the arts among the
newly rich middle classes, the success of the universal exhibitions, and people’s
increased ability to travel throughout world.
69

The Gazette defined the collector as one of the most important figures within
the Parisian landscape; and it vouched to be the organ that would speak directly to his
interests.
70
The journal’s frontispiece (Fig. 1.2) summarized the credo of the
magazine and foreshadowed the types of objects it would discuss throughout: the
Parthenon frieze formed the basis of the composition as one of the building-blocks of
Western art, while at its summit one could see the portrait-medallion of Leonardo da
Vinci, “the most complete artist of modern times.”
71
In addition, all the other objects
of art and curiosity that could embellish an amateur’s collection were present in the

68
Ibid., p. 5.

69
Ibid., pp. 5-6.With the development of the railroad and the steam ship, travel was many times faster
and was made accessible to larger segments of society. For more information o the development and
influence of travel in the nineteenth century see Wolfgang Schivelbusch, The Railway Journey: The
Industrialization of Time and Space in the 19th Century (Berkeley: University of California Press,
1986). The first universal exhibition took place in London, in 1851, followed closely by a second that
was put up by the French in 1855. For a brief summary of the universal exhibitions see Paul
Greenhalgh, Ephemeral Vistas: A History of the Expositions Universelles, Great Exhibitions and
World’s Fairs, 1851-1939 (Manchester and New York: Manchester University Press, 1988).
See Blanc, “Introduction,” pp. 5-6.

70
Ibid., p. 11. Few women were praised as collectors in the second half of the nineteenth century. The
trend was to regard women collectors as sexually transgressive. Willa Silverman explains how women
who collected books were labeled lesbians, given the association of collectibles with women
themselves. See Willa Z. Silverman, The New Bibliopolis: French Book-Collectors and the Culture of
Print, 1880-1914 (Toronto, Buffalo and London: University of Toronto Press Incorporated, 2008), p.
157. For further connections between collecting, the fin-de-siècle interior, prostitution, and fetishism
see Emily Apter, “Cabinet Secrets: Fetishism, Prostitution, and the Fin de Siècle Interior,” Assemblage,
no. 9 (June 1989), pp. 7-19.

71
Ibid., p. 13.

37
display, as defined by the arts of painting and sculpture, relief carving and ceramics,
engraving, as well as the productions of the goldsmith’s and the silversmith’s art.
Thus the “high” arts and the decorative arts received equal attention, as they would in
the interior of a collector at the time.
The amateur collector also received pride of place in Blanc’s 1859 account
and thus was upheld as worthy of emulation by French citizens. The printed accounts
and sales catalogs of such amateur collections as those of Debruge Duménil, François
Sauvageot, or the Prince Soltykoff furthered the presence of curiosities and antiques
on the art market of mid-nineteenth-century France and encouraged their collection as
art objects by the middle classes.
72
Indeed, through the sale of private collections and
their popularization in journals such as the Gazette des beaux-arts, the French public
learned about objects and acquired more information about collecting; and venues
such as the Hôtel Drouot, the foremost auction house in Paris, opened the art world to
a larger public than ever before.
73


72
Edmond Bonnaffé, Causeries sur l'art et la curiosité (Paris: A. Quantin, Imprimeur-Éditeur, 1878),
pp. 6-7, listed these collections as some of the most important in France. Also see Jules Labarte,
Description des objets d’art qui composent la collection Debruge Duménil précédé d’une introduction
historique (Paris: Librairie Archéologique de Victor Didron, 1847); Hôtel de ventes mobilières, Objets
d’art (Paris, 1850); Hébert, commissaire-priseur, Catalogue d’une belle collection de tableaux des
écoles italienne, flamande, hollandaise et française, provenant de la succession de feu François
Sauvageot, et dont la vente aura lieu le 15 janvier 1833, à six heures du soir, et jours suivans, au
domicile du Défunt, rue de Vieux-Marché, no. 10, à Dijon (Dijon: chez M. Hébert, commissaire-
priseur, et chez M. Febyre, 1833); Pierre Dubois, Collection archéologique du Prince Pierre Soltykoff:
Horlogerie, description et iconographie des instruments horaires du XVIe siècle, précedée d’un abrégé ́
historique de l’horlogerie au Moyen Age et pendant la Renaissance (Paris: V. Didron, 1858).

73
The Hôtel Drouot auction house opened its doors to the public in its new premises in 1852. See
Stammers, “The Bric-à-Brac of the Old Regime,” p. 302. According Edmond Bonnaffé, between 7
October 1876 and 27 June 1877, the Hôtel Drouot published a total of 648 catalogues for the season:
244 for paintings, 127 for books and prints, 12 for coins and antiques, 11 for autographs, 19 for
earthenware, 6 for weapons, and the rest for other curiosities. See Edmond Bonnaffé, Le Commerce de
la Curiosité (Paris: Honoré Champion, 1895), p. 229.

38
Going to the auction house became a favorite past-time of both the upper and
the middle classes in the second half of the nineteenth century. If we are to believe
contemporary accounts, the grands amateurs, who only bought objects of high value,
were rivaled there by the large number of curieux, who collected everything they
could lay their hands on, as well as by the Parisian élégantes, who attended the Hôtel
Drouot sales in order to participate in refined conversation and to learn the amusing
slang of the connoisseurs.
74
The Hôtel Drouot topped the sales of the Parisian art
market in 1878, when it sold about 45,000 paintings per year, 150,000 other objects
of art and curiosity, 30,000 drawings, 120,000 prints, and at least a million ancient
books. Followed closely by about 2,500 other independent merchants and dealers in
curiosity, and other brokers from the provinces or from abroad, it was by no means
the only venue for the exhibition and purchase of collectibles.
75
The products that
dealers and merchants of antiques sold, original or fake, were acquired by a varying
group of social classes.
Indeed, a minor gap seemed to separate imitations and fakes. Entire
commercial undertakings were based on the production of fakes. With the new
discoveries made in chemistry, objects could be aged: potassium sulfate aged gold
and oxidized silver, potassium permanganate stained nineteenth-century wood and
made it look old, chloride ammonia colored bronze and gave it the patina of time,


74
See Paul Ginisty, Le Dieu Bibelot: Les collections originales (Paris: A Dupret, 1888).

75
See Bonnaffé, Causeries sur l'art et la curiosité, pp. 8-9.

39
while vitriol faded fabrics and made them appear older than they actually were. In
addition, intentional fractures, parts knowledgeably broken off and subsequently
restored, foot knocks, hammer blows, and other such “wise” methods shrewdly
contributed to the aging effect of furniture.
76
As art historian Stephen Bann explains,
“the critical preoccupation with authenticity, and the transgressive wish to simulate
authenticity, are, in a certain sense, two sides of the same coin.”
77
One could
generalize: the preoccupation with the past and the desire to own the past helped
promote a culture that had to multiply fakes, thus erasing any boundaries between
them and originals.
Thus, when shopping at the Hôtel Drouot, buyers were humorously warned by
the popular journal La Vie parisienne, that all illusions of obtaining a Raphaël,
Rembrandt, or Velasquez had to be left aside. If an artwork had cost one hundred
francs, one had to forego the hope that its actual value was one hundred thousand and
accept that its real price probably amounted to no more than 100 cents.
78
Belgium
produced Memlings and Van Eycks in the dozens, while Paris itself boasted a Greuze
and Boucher factory, the critic, collector, and art historian Edmond Bonnaffé

76
Ibid, pp. 216-217.

77
Bann, The Clothing of Clio, p. 2. Bann identifies this trend to have started in the second half of the
eighteenth century in England, with literary forgeries such as Macpherson’s epic poem Ossian.

78
Champfleury, “Soixante conseils aux collectionneurs qui fréquente l’Hôtel Drouot,” in La Vie
parisienne (1863), p. 31.

40
announced his readers.
79
Moreover, given that not even “high art” dealers could boast
an endless source-base of Leonardos, collectors were advised to choose skillful and
smart imitations of old masters over fakes.
80
In an age where fakes and forgeries
reached such unexpected heights, it should come as no surprise, therefore, that good
reproductions and honest imitations were highly appreciated. As another critic
explained, no one could own the real Venus de Milo but the Louvre; and yet – a good
reproduction of it was welcomed everywhere.
81

Thus the practice of collecting and the general availability of collectibles
familiarized the general public with art objects from the past, inspired the production
of both good and bad imitations of those objects, and caused the middle and even the
lower classes to bring such reproductions into their private homes.
82
Writers and

79
Bonnaffé, Causeries sur l'art et la curiosité, p. 211. Written as a fictional dialogue between the
author and one of his friends, the chapter on “La Contrefaçon” discusses the value of collecting at the
time.

80
Charles Blanc, Le Trésor de la curiosité tiré des catalogues de vente de tableaux, dessins, estampes,
livres, marbres, bronzes, ivoires, terres cuites, vitraux, médailles, armess, porcelaines, meubles,
émaux, laques et autres objets d’art, vol. 1 (Paris: Chez Vve Jules Renouard, 1857), p. VI.

81
Émile Cardon, L’Art au foyer domestique (La Décoration de l’appartement) (Paris: Librairie
Renouard, H. Loones Successeur, 1884) p. 35.

82
Janell Watson explains how “the chain of social imitations commonly known as fashion motivated a
series of manufactured imitations, copies and reproductions of the objects necessary to furnish
fashionable ... interiors.” According to her, the nineteenth-century “chain of imitations” functioned in
the following way: “In the case of the nineteenth-century bibelot-filled interior … members of the
cultural elite imitate collectors and artists; artists imitate a romanticized image of themselves; the
newly wealthy imitate the cultural elite; the middle classes imitate representations of the decor of their
cultural superiors that they see in shop windows, in the newspapers, in novels, and in the theater.” See
Watson, Literature and Material Culture, p. 31. Indeed, the imitation of the styles of the ancien régime
aristocracy within the private interiors of nineteenth-century French middle-classes has often been a
favorite topic of discussion among historians of the visual culture of private life. Both Leora Auslander
and Whitney Walton have explained how the French middle-classes adopted the language of
decoration previously reserved to the aristocracy in order to either legitimize themselves as its
successors or to proclaim their amalgamation with the new ruling class in nineteenth-century France.
See Auslander, Taste and Power and Walton, France at the Crystal Palace.

41
critics often commented upon what they called the manie du bric-à-brac et du bibelot,
and accused collectors of popularizing it, encouraging it, and sustaining it.
83
Invented
as a category in the 1840s, the bibelot, an item of curiosity, defined an array of goods,
“from mass-produced trinkets to priceless collectors’ items,” including old furniture,
valuable art pieces, industrial reproductions, decorative objects, and “worthless
junk.”
84
The quintessential object of modern material culture, as literary historian
Janell Watson calls it, the primary characteristic of the bibelot appears to have been
its superfluousness, or its lack of any use-value.
85
Knick-knacks, curiosities,
collectibles, antiques, and other objets d’art, or the entire world of objects that could
be purchased from dealers, merchants, auction houses, and the newly-rising
department stores, fell under this category. The accumulation of one bibelot after
another, without any regard to its value, beauty, or history (especially when acquired
from Meccas of consumption such as the Bon Marché or the Grands Magasins du
Louvre), it was feared, would lower French artistic standards and affect the innate
good taste that all French were deemed to have.
86
But if the upper classes could afford
the services of expert decorators well-versed in the art of interior décor in arranging
their collectibles or bibelots, the middle and the lower-middle classes were still in


83
See Edmond Bonnaffé, Les Collectionneurs de l'ancienne France: Notes d'un amateur (Paris: Chez
Auguste Aubry, 1873), p. iv.

84
Watson, Literature and Material Culture, p. 2 and p. 6.

85
Ibid.

86
The consumption of bibelots, especially when purchased from department stores, has traditionally
been read as a feminine undertaking. See especially Tiersten, Marianne in the Market.

42
need of guidance. This state of affairs encouraged the publication of a series of
treatises directed to the middle classes that explained how to achieve a successful
interior arrangement and private collection with less rather than more means.
Scholars have largely neglected the permeable boundaries between collecting
and decorating during Second Empire and especially Third Republic Paris because
they have relegated the activity of decorating to women and that of collecting to men.
Yet the concern with collecting and decorating permeated different social classes and
involved both men and women at the same time. Domestic advice manuals, which
provided guidelines on the management of all matters of private life, including the
bearing and raising of children, housekeeping, and the rights and wrongs of interior
decoration, also included suggestions for the selection and management of collectible
items or bibelots.
87
The lavish attention bestowed by scholars upon such treatises
makes it easy to overlook how men, too, were subject to interior decorating advice.
Manuals of advice on collecting instructed their readership on how to arrange one’s
collectibles in one’s home, including furniture and decorative objects. Thus, not only
was there a permeability of boundaries between collecting and decorating at the time,
but critics who wrote about one activity also wrote about the other.

87
Primarily dedicated to a female readership, such manuals positioned women as the ones responsible
for the future well-being of the nation, including the education of offspring and the maintenance of
proper aesthetic standards. For an account of women’s roles in Third Republic France, see especially
Elinor Ann Accampo, Rachel G. Fuchs, and Mary Lynn Stewart, Gender and the Politics of Social
Reform in France (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1995). For more information on the
role of women as interior decorators, see Tiersten, Marianne in the Market and Walton, France at the
Crystal Palace.

43
Published in 1884, the Grammaire de la curiosité (L’Art intime et le goût en
France) (A Grammar of Curiosity (Private Art and French Taste)) by Spire Blondel
(1836-1900), an art historian, critic, and collaborator at the Gazette des beaux-arts,
praised the benefits of collecting by emphasizing the role that art, and curiosities in
general, played in the creation of a relaxing and agreeable atmosphere in one’s
home.
88
Citing the historian and literary critic Edmond de Goncourt (1822-1896),
Blondel argued that this newly found bliss of chez-soi could and should be enhanced
by the display of art:
“Today, when everybody, regardless of social standing, seeks to relax from
the strain of every-day work in the calm of his home, le chez-soi has ceased to
be the monotonous … environment of earlier times. ... the human being... has
been pushed to desire that the four walls of his home be agreeable, pleasing
and entertaining for the eyes; and this surrounding décor he has searched and
naturally found in the object of pure art, or in that of the industrial art, which
is more accessible to everyone.”
89

Blondel’s art for the home, or “l’art intime” (private art) as he called it, knew
no limits: paintings, watercolors, drawings and prints, sculptures, busts, groups and
reliefs, bronzes, marbles, terra cottas, ceramics, earthenware, porcelains or biscuits,
enamels, miniatures, boxes, and fans – all received equal attention in the pages of his

88
Spire Blondel, Grammaire de la curiosité (L’Art intime et le goût en France) (Paris: C. Marpon et E.
Flammarion, 1884). For more information on Spire Blondel, see Hélène Favrel, “Blondel, Spire,” in
Philippe Sénéchal and Claire Barbillon, eds., Dictionnaire critique des historiens de l’art actifs en
France de la Révolution à la Première Guerre Mondiale (Paris: INHA),
http://www.inha.fr/spip.php?article2203 (visited May 31, 2011).

89
Ibid., p. 1. The quote can be found almost entirely in Edmond de Goncourt’s La Maison d'un artiste
(Paris: Ernest Flammarion, [1931 reprint of 1881 original]), p. 8. For more information on Jules and
Edmond de Goncourt, see Dominique Pety, “Goncourt, Jules et Edmond (de),” in Philippe Sénéchal
and Claire Barbillon, eds., Dictionnaire critique des historiens de l’art actifs en France de la
Révolution à la Première Guerre Mondiale (Paris: INHA), http://www.inha.fr/spip.php?article2342
(visited May 3, 2011).

44
book.
90
Mechanical reproductions of original works of art, such as those
commercialized by the Maison Barbedienne and obtained through mathematically-
precise reductions of established masterpieces at a pre-determined scale were also
praised.
91
Ancient works such as the Venus de Milo, one of the most publicized
archeological discoveries of the nineteenth century and on display in the Louvre at
the time, or Paul Dubois’ Renaissance-inspired Florentine Singer of 1865, which won
the médaille d'honneur at the Salon and a copy of which was prominently displayed
in the salon de conversation of the Princesse Mathilde, were just a few of the
artworks whose copies Blondel deemed worthy of display in the private home.
92

Together, these “thousand and one objects of art and curiosity,” disparagingly
called bibelots, were the finery of the furniture assembled in various rooms of the
home. They completed the furnishings, embellished them, and contributed to the

90
Ibid., p. 5.

91
On the business partnership of Achille Collas and Ferdinand Barbedienne, see Meredith Shedd, “A
Mania for Statuettes: Achille Collas and Other Pioneers in the Mechanical Reproduction of Sculpture,”
Gazette des beaux-arts 120, no. 1482-1483 (August 1992), pp. 36-48.

92
Blondel, Grammaire de la curiosité, pp. 37-38. Venus de Milo, one of the most publicized
archeological discoveries of the nineteenth century, was found in 1820 in an excavation on the island
of Milo (ancient Melos) and entered the Louvre in 1821. See Tufts Brigham, Cast Catalogue of
Antique Sculpture. In 1883, plaster cast reproductions of the original could be purchased directly from
the museum for the price of 140 francs a piece, while a reproduction of the upper half (the bust) was
available at the price of 12 francs a piece, and a mask of Venus’ face at the price of only 2 francs a
piece. See Musée National du Louvre, Catalogue des moulages en vente au palais du Louvre, pavillon
Doru (Paris: Imprimerie nationale, 1883). According to Tufts Brigham, so widespread was the practice
of purchasing reproductions of museum-owned artworks at the time that such reductions as those of
Venus de Milo could be ordered even from as far as the United States, either directly from the Bureau
de Vente du Moulage at the Palais du Louvre or from private makers of plaster casts such as
Barbedienne or Gherardi in Paris, or Domenico Brucciani in London at varying prices depending on
size and form.

45
general atmosphere of the house.
93
But this profusion of objects had no value when
taken on their own. The importance of each and every object on display lay in the
coherence of the final ensemble, furniture and collectibles included. A bronze, a
watercolor, a terra cotta, a Venetian chalice, a genre painting, unrelated as they may
seem, formed a single whole. “Unite them,” Blondel urged his readers, “skillfully
bring them together in the middle of a surrounding which shall serve as their frame
and shall enable them to mutually assert each other.”
94
Disparaged by some, the
bibelot (l’art intime par excellence) became the building-block of nineteenth-century
interiors for others.
Indeed, the critic, art historian and fine-arts inspector Henry Havard (1838-
1921) pointed out how the distinction between the beaux-arts on the one hand and the
arts décoratifs or the so-called “industrial arts” on the other made no sense to
nineteenth-century French citizens: “it would be impolite to pretend that the painting
hung in a drawing room [salon], the sculpture placed in a garden, or the bust ornating
a staircase do not decorate this wall, this stairway, this garden, this drawing room.”
95

Havard’s assertion was taken one step further by the nineteenth-century writer
Auguste Luchet, who expanded the definition of “furniture” so as to include all items

93
Blondel, Grammaire de la curiosité, p. 1.

94
Ibid., p. 12.

95
Henry Havard, Les Arts de l’ameublement: La Décoration (Paris: Charles Delagrave, [1889]), p. 4.
Henry Havard acted as inspecteur des beaux-arts from 1887 to 1917. For more information on Havard,
see Rossella Froissart-Pezone, “Havard, Henry,” in Philippe Sénéchal and Claire Barbillon, eds.,
Dictionnaire critique des historiens de l’art actifs en France de la Révolution à la Première Guerre
Mondiale (Paris: INHA), http://www.inha.fr/spip.php?article2362 (visited September 22, 2010).

46
of interior decoration per se. According to Luchet, furniture included everything that
served “to fill and adorn a house, without being part of it.”
96
Thus, “a painting is a
piece of furniture; a sculpture is a piece of furniture; the rock-crystal chandelier of the
throne-room at Fontainebleau ... is a piece of furniture; all the bronzes, all the
metalwork, all the jewelry, all the enamels, almost all the marbles, all Sèvres, all
Dresse, China, and japonismes are furniture.”
97
So, indeed, by dissolving the
boundaries between the “high” and the “decorative” arts, now all subsumed under the
general category of “furniture,” the “collectible,” or, more generally, the “bibelot,”
nineteenth-century French critics appear to have consistently blurred the boundaries
between collecting and decorating.
Collectors as famous as the man of state Adolphe Thiers (1797-1877)
understood the nonsense of such distinctions very well. When Thiers’ art collection
entered the Louvre upon his death, Charles Blanc wrote a catalog that detailed the
statesman’s collecting choices.
98
Entries 143 (Praxitèles, Faune, half-size) and 144
(Anonymous, Mercure, same size like 143) listed two marble reproductions after
antiques executed by the sculptor Henri-Charles Maniglier (1826-1901).
99
Of these

96
Luchet, “Les Arts Parisiens,” p. 2.

97
Ibid.

98
See Charles Blanc, Collection d’objets d’art de M. Thiers, léguée au Musée du Louve (Paris: Jouaust
et Sigaux, 1884).

99
Maniglier was among the sculptors responsible for the execution of the monumental statues adorning
Napoléon III’s new Louvre. He also carved a relief for Charles Garnier’s new Paris Opéra. See
“Unknown Artist, French School: Henri-Charles Maniglier (1994.83),” in Heilbrunn Timeline of Art
History (New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000),
http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/works-of-art/1994.83 (visited May 3, 2011).

47
two statues, the first was praised as a wonderful reproduction of a masterpiece, while
the second, the catalogue explained, featured in the collection only because it formed
a decorative pendant to the Faune. Not only was Thiers collecting originals and
copies on the same par, but he was also doing this with an eye towards decorative
matching. As Blanc asserted, the collector went as far as including reproductive
paintings after the Sistine Chapel as background to his collection of marbles, bronzes,
terra cottas and ivories, among which were reproductions after Michelangelo’s statues
for the Medici tomb in Florence, again by Maniglier.
100
The aim of the collection had
been to create a history of art dominated by the Italian Renaissance and its
masterpieces.
101

If collecting might be seen as a form of decorating and vice versa, how could
a successful interior arrangement be obtained? Henry Havard’s L’Art dans la maison
(Grammaire de l’ameublement) (Art in the House (A Grammar of Furnishings)),
perhaps the most widely disseminated interior decorating and taste manual at the
time, offered advice. Published in at least six editions until 1887, Havard’s
Grammaire was honored with a subscription from the Ministère de l’instruction
publique et des beaux-arts, which declared it an indispensable read for the students of
the Écoles Normales, whose libraries all owned copies, as well as for decorators, art
students, architects, and furniture-makers in addition to a general public eager to

100
Ibid, pp. VII-VIII.

101
Ibid., p. VIII.

48
tastefully arrange its homes.
102
Like Jules Deville (1825-1890), one of Paris’ most
fashionable and successful upholsterers and none other than the president of the
Chambre syndicale des apprentis tapissiers at the time, who argued that “every
decoration has to start from a style or a principle,” Havard was of the opinion that, in
order to be successful, any decoration “must proceed from a unique departure point.”

103
All the objects used in the furnishing and decoration of a room had to have a direct
correlation between them. Such correspondences could be obtained through
similarities, analogies of form and color, or – and this was Havard’s personal
recommendation – through the successful coordination of the entire architectural
ensemble of a room.
104
As he explained, “each form, individually taken, has a precise
value and significance all of its own. But when the form becomes part of an

102
Henry Havard, L’Art dans la maison (Grammaire de l’ameublement), fourth edition (Paris:
Librairie illustrée, Édouard Rouveyre, 1883), p. VI. Starting at least with 1883, and aiming to reach as
wide of an audience as possible, Havard’s Grammaire was published in fifty installments, which could
be purchased one at a time, thus dividing the total price of the publication throughout time. See
Havard, L’Art dans la maison, p. VI. The fifth edition, from 1887, was smaller in format and sold at a
cheaper price. It thus became available to a public even larger than before, including craftsmen and the
working classes in general. As the introduction stated, “when one thinks of the expensive mistakes it
[this book] could prevent and the futile expenses it can help avoid, one will undoubtedly find its
purchase price to be ... out of proportion with the innumerable services that the book can provide.” See
Havard, L’Art dans la maison (1883), p. VI. Havard’s Grammaire de l’ameublement also served as a
model for Blondel’s 1884 Grammaire de la curiosité. See Blondel, Grammaire de la curiosité, p.1.

103
Jules Deville, Dictionnaire du tapissier critique et historique de l'ameublement français depuis les
temps anciens jusqu'à nos jours (Paris, Lièges, and Berlin: C. Claesen, 1878-1880), p. 239. The
original quote reads: “à toute décoration il faut partir d'un style ou d'un principe.” Also, see Havard,
L’Art dans la maison (1883), p. 218. The original quotes read: “La beauté dans la décoration, résultant
de l'introduction de la variété dans l'unité, toute décoration bien comprise, doit procéder d'un point de
départ unique.” For more information on Deville, see Xavier Bonnet, “Deville, Jules,” in Philippe
Sénéchal and Claire Barbillon, eds., Dictionnaire critique des historiens de l’art actifs en France de la
Révolution à la Première Guerre Mondiale (Paris: INHA), http://www.inha.fr/spip.php?article2283
(visited May 31, 2011).

104
See Havard, L’Art dans la maison (1883), p. 218.

49
ensemble, this value and this significance become completely relative.”
105
Thus, for
example, no matter how superbly drawn, marvelously executed, and pure of lines a
fifteenth-century church-stall was, it produced a most miserable effect when placed in
a Louis XV interior.
106

Variety in unity and a unique departure point were the main guidelines that
both taste educators such as Havard and practitioners of interior decoration and
design such as Deville recommended. When applied to the historicist tendencies in
interior decorating characteristic of the period, these recommendations translated into
the application of a single period style to the decoration of a single room.
107
Should
the head of the household not have adhered to these prescriptions and set out to
thoughtlessly create an interior of an eclectic hodge-podge of furniture pieces and
draperies of all forms, colors, and styles, he should know that his drawing room
resembled “an upholsterer’s storeroom” rather than a tasteful environment.
108
A
house or an apartment could contain multiple styles, but they each had to be restricted
to one individual room. The bricabracomania so deplored by scholars of nineteenth
century interiors did not translate at the level and unit of the regular bourgeois room
once people followed taste educators’ advice.

105
Ibid., p. 221.

106
Ibid.

107
The artist’s studio, the collector’s interior, the petit salon, and the boudoir were exceptions to this
rule. It would be interesting to note, however, that the bourgeois was already following a certain
“principle” of decoration when trying to recreate the atmosphere of an artist’s studio or a collector’s
interior in his house. For a discussion about how these rooms affected interior decorating towards the
end of the nineteenth century, see Lasc, “Le Juste Milieu.”

108
Deville, Dictionnaire du tapissier, p. 240.

50
Another influential treatise and nineteenth-century best-seller on how to
decorate the private home was the Comtesse de Bassanville’s 1878 L’Art de bien
tenir une maison (The Art of Good Housekeeping).
109
Dedicated primarily to a female
readership, the manual reached multiple editions and could be found in many homes.
Amidst very practical advice about how to remove and store wall hangings, draperies,
and curtains when leaving one’s town house for the countryside during summer, how
to clean and polish marble surfaces, or how to treat one’s servants, de Bassanville
also provided decorating instructions. Part of a larger literature dedicated to women,
including such other works as de Bassanville’s two-part Le Trésor de la maison (The
Treasure-Trove of the Home) (1867-68) or Louise d’Alq’s La Science de la vie (The
Science of Life) (1882, new edition), L’Art de bien tenir une maison defined
“desirable” taste in decoration in much the same way that interior decorating
grammars such as Henry Havard’s or collecting grammars such as Spire Blondel’s
did.
110
No matter how rich or poor one was, when decorating one’s interior, one

109
Anaïs Lebrun (Comtesse de) Bassanville, L’Art de bien tenir une maison (Paris: A. Broussois,
1878).

110
See Anaïs Lebrun (Comtesse de) Bassanville, Le Trésor de la maison: Guide des femmes économes
(Paris: Brumet, 1867) and Anaïs Lebrun (Comtesse de) Bassanville, Le Trésor de la Maison, Seconde
partie: Guide des mères de famille (Paris: P. Brunet, 1868); see also Louise d'Alq, La Science de la
vie: Conseils et réflexions à l'usage de tous. Nouvelle édition, corrigée et augmentée. La seule
autorisée par l'auteur (Paris: Bureaux des Causeries Familières, [1882]). Mme d’Alq was the alias of
Marie de Saverny, according to Michel Vernes, “Bric-à-brac de l’art industriel,” in Divagations
(Orléans: Éditions HYX, 2000), p. 195. Other authors of such studies are: Mme Th. Alcan, known as
the Vicomtesse Nacla, the Baronne Staffe, Mme Daniel Lesueur, Mme Pariset, etc.

51
always needed to stay within a chosen style and avoid anachronisms at all costs:
“Choose an epoch and remain completely faithful to it,” de Bassanville argued.
111

Thus, as Spire Blondel would advise about a decade later not to stray from the
consecrated rules of proper decoration and not to amass object upon object in a desire
to obtain magnificence at the risk of sacrificing good taste, so the Comtesse de
Bassanville warned her readers that “combining furnishings and decorations in the
style of Louis XV with furnishings and decorations in the style of Louis XIV or Louis
XVI would create a dissonance of the worst possible taste.”
112
Such mistakes as
placing a plaster-cast of Michelangelo’s Moses in a Louis XV boudoir filled with
Sèvres porcelains and Saxony celadons had to absolutely be avoided.
113
Considered
by such prescriptive literature as a total work of art, the interior decoration scheme of
an individual room was obtained through the coordination of all the objects within it;
and particular attention had to be paid to staying within the pre-established “style” or
“theme” chosen, or what Deville had called the “principle” behind any decorative
ensemble. Applied everywhere, this common rule was to be reflected not least in the
choice of fabrics used in the upholstering of furniture. As one critic would later assert,
“beware to never commit the outrageous mistake of covering furniture of a well-

111
De Bassanville, L’Art de bien tenir une maison, p. 83. The original quote reads: “Adoptez donc une
époque et restez-y complétement fidèle.”

112
Ibid., p. 83.

113
Blondel, Grammaire de la curiosité, p. 350.

52
defined style with a material that has no style at all or which displays an entirely
different style.”
114

Those with lesser means could achieve the same results that the richest of the
rich could. If the former class could not afford an interior filled with objects original
to the time that they tried to recreate, taste advisors suggested that imitations be
used.
115
The critic, art historian and fine arts director Charles Blanc (1813-1882)
himself explained how there should be no difference between an original object and
its imitation: “Between a golden object and an object made of gold there is no
difference for the man of taste, who appreciates what is given to him as a spectacle.
The general rule that one should not produce in one medium what can be better made
in another does not apply to industry, as long as the latter can achieve perfect
resemblance. Imitation is only blamable when it cannot go beyond mere
similarity.”
116

The overall attempt to abide by the rules of historic revivalism meant that
taste educators by the beginning of the twentieth century even advised against
introducing a newly-made copy of an object from the past in a room that attempted to

114
Mme. Daniel Lesueur, Pour bien tenir sa maison (Paris: Pierre Lafitte et Cie, 1911), p. 28.
Similarly, old furniture demanded an antique spatial arrangement, which was the only way to properly
distinguish it from its architectural surroundings and yet make it part and parcel of the whole.

115
See, for example, de Bassanville, L’Art de bien tenir une maison, p. 81. Also see Henri de
Noussanne, Le Goût dans l'ameublement (Paris: Librairie de Firmin-Didot et Cie, 1896), p. 163.

116
See Charles Blanc, Grammaire des arts décoratifs: Décoration intérieure de la maison (Paris:
Librairie Renouard, 1882), p. 82. Blanc acted as Directeur de l’administration des beaux-arts between
1848 and 1851 and, again, between 1870 and 1873. For more information on Charles Blanc, see Claire
Barbillon, “Blanc, Charles,” in Philippe Sénéchal and Claire Barbillon, eds., Dictionnaire critique des
historiens de l’art actifs en France de la Révolution à la Première Guerre Mondiale (Paris: INHA),
http://www.inha.fr/spip.php?article2201 (visited January 11, 2011).

53
recreate successfully the atmosphere of that epoch, unless the object were made to
show its age. Thus, “never install a brand-new Louis XIV chair in your drawing-
room,” they argued; rather, “insist that it display the patina of time... or of the dealer
in secondhand goods.”
117
The desire for historical accuracy went even as far as to
have the authors recommend the use of purposefully-aged copies of old furniture
pieces. Advisors urged readers to go to museums to find good examples of old
furniture they could imitate in their rooms and to learn the general appearance of a
specific style from the past in order to explain the latter’s specificities to their chosen
decorators.
118
A visit to the Apollo Gallery at the Louvre would reveal the correct
form and shape of furniture pieces by André-Charles Boulle (1642-1732); one to the
Garde-meuble would provide examples of tapestries and draperies from the time of
Louis XV or Louis XVI; while a visit to the Musée de Cluny would familiarize the
viewer with furniture objects from the Middle Ages.
119

How, then, given this plethora of advice about harmonious decorating, can
one explain choices such as Rémon’s of placing Greek antiques within Renaissance
interiors and thus apparently committing an anachronism of the worst possible kind?
The answer may be found in an 1876 book by the art historian and collector Albert

117
Lesueur, Pour bien tenir sa maison, p. 28.

118
Vicomtesse Nacla (Mme. Th. Alcan), Le Boudoir: Conseils d'élégance (Paris: Librairie Ernest
Flammarion, [1896]), pp. 245-47.

119
Ibid. As Nacla pointed out, the ancient fabrics, draperies and dresses Louis XV or Louis XVI could
very well be imitated by skilled artisans, but these imitations could not be sold for antiques.

54
Jacquemart (1808-1875).
120
Titled Histoire du mobilier: Recherches et notes sur les
objets d’art qui peuvent composer l’ameublement et les collections de l’homme du
monde et du curieux (A History of Furniture: Research and Notes on the Art Objects
That Can Compose the Furnishings and Collections of the Man of the World and of
the Curious), and preceded by an introduction by Henry Barbet de Jouy (1812-1896),
the curator of the Medieval and Renaissance galleries at the Musée du Louvre,
Jacquemart’s book presented a history of “furniture” as understood in the second half
of the nineteenth century. From art objects to furnishings and household utensils –
what Henry Havard was to call “la décoration mobile” – everything was included
under this rubric.
121

Jacquemart took historicist furnishings as his point of departure and explained
to his avowed male readership of collectors and curieux how recreating a truly
accurate historic interior (furniture and art objects included) was a complicated matter
once original furniture pieces could not be procured anymore. An arduous collector,
Jacquemart was one of the few who did not approve of altering or adapting old

120
See Albert Jacquemart, Histoire du mobilier: Recherches et notes sur les objets d’art qui peuvent
composer l’ameublement et les collections de l’homme du monde et du curieux (Paris: Librairie
Hachette et Cie, 1876). For more information on Albert Jacquemart, see Laurence Tilliard,
“Jacquemart, Albert,” in Philippe Sénéchal and Claire Barbillon, eds., Dictionnaire critique des
historiens de l’art actifs en France de la Révolution à la Première Guerre Mondiale (Paris: INHA,
forthcoming), http://www.inha.fr/spip.php?article2372 (visited May 31, 2011), which I have not had
the chance to read. For more information on Henry Barbet de Jouy, see Geneviève Bresc-Bautier,
“Barbet de Jouy, Henry,” in Philippe Sénéchal and Claire Barbillon, eds., Dictionnaire critique des
historiens de l’art actifs en France de la Révolution à la Première Guerre Mondiale (Paris: INHA),
http://www.inha.fr/spip.php?article2180 (visited May 31, 2011).

121
As opposed to “décoration fixe,” which was part of the architecture, the “décoration mobile” was
not literally attached to it. It comprises the furniture and any other objects of decoration. See Havard,
L’Art dans la maison, especially pp. 219-20.

55
furniture to suit modern needs or of using modern imitations in lieu of originals to
complete room ensembles. Thus, he offered a new solution to the problem of
historical accuracy: rather than using imitations or ill-arranged adaptations of old
furniture to create an accurate ensemble d’epoque, the young collector and head of the
modern household in search of a historic décor could introduce “oriental” objects,
antiques, and rich carpets in the historical interiors he devised instead.
Throughout different times and in different places, Jacquemart explained,
“oriental” objects had decorated private spaces.
122
Unlike Western antiques, which
belonged to clearly-defined historic eras and geographic locations, “oriental” objects
were a-historic and were generally understood to come from a variety of geographic
locations. They could be old or new, and could have originated in either an
independent country or in one of the Western colonies. In fact, French historians such
as Madeleine Dobie have explained how many eighteenth-century objects in
“oriental” styles, rather than imported from China, Japan, or other Eastern countries,
were instead produced by slave labor in French colonies in the New World but made
to look like they had come from Asia.
123
In their dwellings, the Romans had actively
sought the company of precious objects procured through commercial activities in
far-away lands. In France, Jacquemart continued, the fashion for the exotic had been
introduced during the Middle Ages in the aftermath of the Crusades; and it had

122
Jacquemart, Histoire du mobilier, p. 20.

123
Madeleine Dobie, “Orientalism, Colonialism, and Furniture in Eighteenth-Century France,” in Dena
Goodman and Kathryn Norberg, eds., Furnishing the Eighteenth Century: What Furniture Can Tell Us
about the European and American Past (New York and London: Routledge Taylor & Francis Group,
2007), pp. 13-36.

56
provided a true revelation at the time in terms of interior decorating.
124
During the
seventeenth century, people were overtaken by a fad for Indian and Chinese fabrics
and decorative objects, all of which culminated during the time of Louis XV with the
taste for Chinoiseries and the introduction of porcelains everywhere in the home.
125

Out of all collectibles, Jacquemart concluded, the ones less difficult to arrange within
one’s house were those of “oriental” provenance. They were good accompaniments to
any historic style: François I had displayed them in his interiors in spite of his
preference for the works of the Italian Renaissance; Louis XIV combined the
furnishings and porcelains of China and Japan with French decorative work and
bronzes; the subsequent French monarchs encouraged their collection and display to
such an extent that, by the end of the eighteenth century, such objects had become the
preferred choice in decoration.
126
Therefore, should one not find a proper
seventeenth-century curtain, one could replace it with an “oriental” one. Similarly,
should one not be able to procure a medieval writing desk, an “oriental” one would do
just as well. What to an untrained eye might seem an eclectic interior, which mixed
exotic objects with others made in various old French styles, to the trained eye of a
nineteenth-century person was an accurate representation of a specific historic era.
To Jacquemart’s theories of collecting, the Comtesse de Bassanville replied
with further attention to the spatial organization of rooms and their decoration. When

124
Ibid, pp. 19-20.

125
Ibid., p. 20.

126
Jacquemart, Histoire du mobilier, pp. 24-25.

57
describing the proper arrangement of a dining room furnished in sculpted oak, which
was very fashionable at the time, she advised her readers to choose a Renaissance or a
Louis XIII style. As she explained, oak furnishings were last encountered in Europe
during the reign of Louis XIII. Therefore, everything in the room had to be
reminiscent of the seventeenth century: walls could not be covered in painted paper
but in real wood, leather, or good imitations of either of the two; and, rather than
paintings, pottery had to hang on the walls.
127
Particular attention had to be paid to
the kind of pottery chosen for display. As the Comtesse explained, “when one wants
to stick to historic truth, and to the epoch, these plates must be earthenware: …
porcelain, not having been discovered in Europe until the beginning of the eighteenth
century, it would be an anachronism to mix Sèvres porcelain from the times of Louis
XV with furnishings reminding the reign of a Valois.”
128

Like Albert Jacquemart, de Bassanville recommended the use of Chinoiseries
in general and of Chinese porcelains in particular. The Dutch, who had engaged in a
feverish commerce with China, flooded the European market with Chinese products
towards the end of the reign of Louis XIII.
129
So she agreed that in a nineteenth-
century Renaissance room, “oriental” objects were allowed, just as they had been
during the Renaissance. Scholars have interpreted such combinations of objects in
Eastern and old Western styles as eclectic decorating schemes without rhyme or

127
See de Bassanville, L’Art de bien tenir une maison, p. 115.

128
Ibid.

129
Ibid., p. 116.

58
reason. Such arrangements of exotic pieces in Medieval or Renaissance rooms or of
Ancient artifacts in Renaissance-themed interiors were, quite the contrary, thoroughly
thought-out coherent ensembles, guided by rules familiar to nineteenth-century
Parisians. One could have all the bric-à-brac one wanted in one’s room, as long as
one respected the particularities of the time and place one aspired to recreate. The
mixing of styles within one room was allowed, even encouraged, as long as the
decorative principles of the epoch cited were maintained. If Greek antiques such as
the Venus de Milo had no place in a rich, armor-filled medieval setting, which had
banished all things of Classical Antiquity, it could nevertheless be a pendant to
weaponry and Giambologna’s Mercury in one from the Renaissance, as proven by
Rémon’s design.
Indeed, the preoccupation with maintaining historical accuracy in the
decoration of one’s private interior was a larger phenomenon and spurred numerous
debates throughout the Western world. Although France had long been considered the
leader of taste and dominated the market for decorative arts and luxury objects, it was
not the only nation in the nineteenth century that attempted to create historically-
accurate or exotically-inspired harmonious interior decorating schemes. With the rise
of nation-states at the time, each European culture began searching in its own past the
inspiration for new decorative themes. Thus Old English, Altdeutsch, or Old Colonial
were interior decorating styles that flourished in Britain, Germany, or the United
States, respectively, along with traditional French styles like Louis XIII, Louis XIV,

59
or Louis XV.
130
French decorators, too, sometimes made distinctions between
English, French, and Italian Renaissance interiors, while also proposing modern
“English” bathrooms or study cabinets.
131
Besides the various eras of history, the
world thus also was a large pool from which new styles and themes could be
chosen.
132
And the concern for historical accuracy in interior décor was shared by
most Western countries. In Britain, for instance, Mrs. Haweis advised against the
inclusion of objects produced by Victorian manufacturers in a room furnished in the
Georgian style. Similarly, early English artworks had no place in a Japanese-styled
room.
133
Writing after the Comtesse de Bassanville, Haweis also warned her readers
that “Chinese art would be fish-out-of-waterish in an early English home,” since
China was not open to the West until the sixteenth century, and modern Chinese
work, especially, “would dispel the illusion of antiquity, and at once betray that the
room was spurious.”
134
Unlike French advisors, however, British authors, including
Mrs. Haweis, found “eclectic” room arrangements preferable to those decorated in a

130
For an account of larger tendencies in interior decorating in the West, see Stefan Muthesius, The
Poetic Home: Designing the 19
th
-Century Domestic Interior (London: Thames and Hudson, 2009).

131
Adrien Simoneton, La Décoration intérieure (Paris: La Décoration intérieure, 1893-1895).

132
When focusing on American interiors, Kristin Hoganson has pointed out how the American
bourgeoisie made a conscientious effort to stage the world in their private interiors in order to claim a
certain cosmopolitanism. The 1882 Chicago house of Bertha Honoré Palmer, for instance, included a
Spanish music room, an English dining room, a Moorish ballroom, a Flemish library, as well as French
and Chinese drawing rooms and an Egyptian bedroom. See Kristin Hoganson, “Cosmopolitan
Domesticity: Importing the American Dream, 1865-1920,” The American Historical Review 107, no. 1
(February 2002), pp. 55-83.

133
Mrs. H. R. Haweis, The Art of Decoration (London: Chatto and Windus, Piccadilly, 1881), p. 28.

134
Ibid.

60
specific historic style, since they were more manageable.
135
Defined in opposition to
“the aimless conglomeration of totally discordant periods and schools” in one interior
setting, eclectic rooms nevertheless required that no one predominant style could be
identified.
136
Since Gothic, Oriental, or Renaissance arches or moldings demanded
furniture in similar styles, a room should have sufficient variety so that its harmony
could parallel that found in a “Christmas pudding.”
137
Yet the types of room designs
that Mrs. Haweis singled out as examples for her readers still revolved around one
central theme that could be interpreted in various ways. Thus, for example, “A
Renascence [sic] Eclectic Room” accommodated works spanning two centuries, from
both Northern and Southern Renaissance Europe, while also allowing Classical
Antiquity and the Orient to contribute objects: “But the work of at least two centuries,
all the world over, is ready to hand, Northern and Southern interpretations of that
overpowering movement; moreover the old world may contribute, for genuine classic
fragments in marble, bronze, or glass, may mix with Raphaels and Murrilos on the
walls, Vandykes, and Durer prints, autotypes of the old masters’ sketches, and even
photographs of fine pictures, as well as Venetian glass, Brussels and Arras tapestry,
old Oriental tissues and panels of leather, or leather paper.”
138
While British authors
catalogued such arrangements “eclectic,” to French authors they were no less than

135
Ibid., pp. 28-29.

136
Ibid., p. 201.

137
Ibid., pp. 202-203.

138
Ibid., p. 204.

61
“accurate” renditions of styles from the past. More open to incorporating “eclectic”
decorative schemes in their private dwellings, the former also allowed for objects in
the Empire style to inhabit the same space as antique and Renaissance objects.
139

Characterized as “classic revivals,” furniture and objects in the Empire style could
thus accompany antique busts and Renaissance tapestries in “eclectic” British
interiors in the “Renascence style.”
Critics were in disagreement about what style belonged in what room, French
critics were in disagreement. If a Renaissance theme were seen as suitable for the
dining room, it was no less appreciated in the hallway, the study, or even in the
bedroom. Critics acknowledged the wonderful effects produced in a bedroom by a
beautifully-carved columned bed and sculpted Renaissance buffet. The only
disadvantage that one could find when recommending a Renaissance bedroom over a
Louis XV or a Louis XVI one was the impracticality of sculptures, which were
veritable dust-traps requiring many hands for cleaning.
140
Therefore, it did not matter
what theme or style one chose for the decoration of a specific room. What did matter
was the accuracy in reproducing the period style of the time and the place chosen.
Thus no clear-cut separation was made between “masculine” (dining room, office,
smoking room) and “feminine” rooms (salon, boudoir, bedroom) in terms of
decoration – allegedly more somber for the male-inhabited ones (usually thought to
be decorated in Gothic, Henri II, Louis XIII, or the styles of the Italian Renaissance)

139
Ibid.

140
See de Noussanne, Le Goût dans l'ameublement, p. 167 and p. 168.

62
and lighter for the female-inhabited ones (Louis XIV, Louis XV, Louis XVI).
141
What
scholars have interpreted as a gendered divide in terms of interior decorating styles
was actually informed by personal preferences or practical considerations such as
cleaning. Thus, even though the hallway was seen as the “preface” of the household,
and as the single room which informed the visitor of the social status, character,
fortune, and taste of the apartment’s owner, it could be decorated in any style ranging
from the sobriety of the Renaissance and the Louis XIII styles to the pomposity of
Louis XIV, the rococo frivolity of Louis XV, or even the neoclassical severity of the
Louis XVI style.
142

Agreement on what style belonged in what room was not easily reached since
some advisors wanted to push historical authenticity to its limits. If the artist and
decorator G. Félix Lenoir suggested that the salon could be decorated in all styles and
fashions, “the correct rendering of which makes the originality or style of value,”
Henry Havard argued that some styles did not fit as well in any room.
143
For example,

141
Auslander, Taste and Power, p. 280, argues the opposite: “The most ‘public’ of rooms, the dining
room, was almost always furnished if not in Henri II then in Louis XIII. Because Henri II and Louis
XIII were explicitly defined as masculine, they were also often seen in a study (by definition
masculine), but very rarely in a bedroom or boudoir (by definition feminine).” Also see Juliet Kinchin,
“Interiors: Nineteenth-Century Essays on the ‘Masculine’ and the ‘Feminine’ Room,” in Pat Kirkham,
ed., The Gendered Object (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1996), pp. 12-29. More recently,
Katherine M. Kuenzli has convincingly argued that the Nabis’ decorative work consistently blurred the
boundaries between masculine and feminine spaces inside the home. Kuenzli explains: “their [the
Nabis’s] idiom remains the same whether they painted for a man or a woman, for a space given over to
intellectual work or to a morning toilette. This essential sameness suggests a new understanding of the
home as a totality in which social and gender identities were deemed irrelevant to aesthetic
experience.” See Kuenzli, The Nabis and Intimate Modernism, p. 13.

142
Havard, L’Art dans la maison (1883), pp. 301- 302.

143
G. Félix Lenoir, Practical and Theoretical Treatise on Decorative Hangings or Guide to
Upholstery, translated by C.-J. Cassirer (Brussels: E. Lyon-Claesen, [1890]), p. 101.

63
in a feudal mansion from the Middle Ages, or in an antique villa, there had been no
such thing as a reception room. Only with the beginning of the reign of François I,
when women finally had access to the court, would one witness the birth of the salon
as understood in the nineteenth century.
144
“Let’s limit to the last three centuries,”
Havard explained, “the series of models and examples borrowed from past epochs”
that could serve as patterns for this room.
145
Similarly, given that one would rarely
have encountered bathrooms during the Renaissance, the seventeenth, or even the
eighteenth centuries, when running water was still a luxury and one relied on one’s
servants to provide it (if one washed at all), it made no sense to decorate nineteenth-
century bathrooms in royal styles. The Roman thermal hot springs or the Turkish
baths would provide better examples if one wanted to maintain a semblance of
historical precision.
146

If historical accuracy was desirable in the salon and the bathroom, it was no
less desirable in the billiard room or in the smoking room. According to the Comtesse
de Bassanville, the smoking room was better set off by furniture, carpets, and
upholstery designed in an Eastern style, as it was in the East that one could “better
comprehend the appeal of dreams created amidst clouds of tobacco smoke.”
147

Furthermore, should one choose the fashionable Japanese style for the billiard room,

144
Havard, L’Art dans la maison (1883), p. 306.

145
Ibid.

146
De Noussanne, Le Goût dans l'ameublement, p. 180.

147
Baronne Staffe, La Maîtresse de maison, 29th edition (Paris: Victor Havard, 1892), p. 46.

64
one committed a serious anachronism: “Billiards has not really been a game that
flourished in the provinces of Mikado. Louis XIII, enamored with this game, could
easily become upset by this choice.”
148
The author thus recommended the style of
Louis XIII for this room, if one had not already used it for another chamber such as
the dining-room.
149

One was discouraged to repeat the same style more than once in the
decoration of different rooms belonging to one apartment. As Mme. Daniel Lesueur
would later emphasize, should one choose the eighteenth century for the petit salon,
one could reserve the Louis XIV style or that of the Renaissance for the salon.
150

Only when the two rooms were contiguous, and opened up as a single large room,
should they be decorated in the same style.
151
The specific attention paid to what style
could go in each room pointed not only to a preference for historical accuracy in
decoration but also to a desire not to repeat the same theme twice. As it generally
made no sense for a collector to possess objects that were alike, so it made no sense
for the nineteenth-century individual who decorated his or her home to have two
rooms in the same style. Thus, one can easily conclude that decorating was at the time
a specific kind of collecting, but one which was concerned with the whole apartment

148
De Noussanne, Le Goût dans l'ameublement, p. 185.

149
Ibid., pp. 185-186.

150
See Lesueur, Pour bien tenir sa maison, p. 27: if the eighteenth century was a good fit for the petit
salon - “one could reserve for the grand salon the beautiful Louis XIV, Renaissance or Louis XIII
furniture… . ”

151
Ibid., p. 23.

65
or house rather than with each object displayed in part. One collected the world as
much as one collected the past or worlds of fiction; and one created a museum of
themes and styles in one’s home as a sequence of all-surrounding environments.
Henry Havard evoked the impact that nineteenth-century private interiors
made on contemporary viewers when he stated that an apartment allowed the dining
room to contradict the salon, thus creating the impression of crossing two centuries
when moving from one room to the next.
152
Seen as a “disorderly passion” that had
taken over the Parisian population in the aftermath of the 1848 Revolution and the
installation of the Second Empire, this desire to have a Medieval, a Renaissance, a
Louis XIV, Louis XV, Louis XVI, as well as a Neo-Greek environment in one’s
apartment transformed nineteenth-century apartments into private collections of some
sort.
153
“It is not ... the inspiration found in a particular moment from the past that
constitutes the distinctive character of our epoch,” Havard continued; rather, “it is the
fact of not having renounced ... any of our earlier preoccupations; of having brought
into the present not two, not three, but five or six styles that respond more or less

152
Henry Havard, Histoire et philosophie des styles (Architecture, ameublement, décoration), vol. 2
(Paris: Librairie générale d'architecture et des arts industriels Charles Schmid, 1900), p. 682. This very
same paragraph was identically cited earlier in Havard’s Grammaire de l’ameublement, p. 2, and has
usually been interpreted as evidence for nineteenth-century eclecticism and pastiche in interior design.
See especially Tiersten, Marianne in the Market, p. 79.

153
Jules Deville, Recueil de status et de documents relatifs à la Corporation des tapissiers de 1258 à
1875 (Paris: Imprimerie centrale des chemins de fer A. Chaix et Cie, 1875), p. 398.

66
precisely to our personal needs.”
154
So the nineteenth-century home functioned like a
meta-collection, just like the universal expositions did.
People sought inspiration from the past earlier on as well, including in the
fields of architecture and fine arts. But now, one did not merely seek inspiration in the
past; rather, one tried to relive that past, to recreate it in one’s present, to imaginarily
travel back in time without ever leaving one’s home. Thus, one can almost conclude
with Havard that the originality of the nineteenth century in terms of decoration is to
not have any originality at all.
155
As Édmond Bonnaffé pointed out, previous
generations, so much praised for their originality, had only been able to create a new
style after having destroyed the achievements of those that had preceded them. “How
can one proclaim to be satisfied when the masterpieces of gothic art were pushed into
the wastebasket once the Renaissance arrived? Or when the seventeenth century had
to bury all the achievements of earlier times in order to persuade the world that
French art started with Louis XIV?” – Bonnaffé asked.
156
For him, the nineteenth
century was different. It had the duty to inventory, restore, collect, and preserve the
past and its styles.
157
What scholars up to this day have interpreted as a lack of
originality in decoration, had in fact been considered a virtue and not a lack at the

154
Havard, Histoire et philosophie des styles, p. 682.

155
Ibid., p. 683.

156
See Bonnaffé, Les Collectionneurs de l'ancienne France, p. ix.

157
Ibid., p. x.

67
time.
158
Decorating equated collecting and homes became encyclopedia of past times
and different places.
The vogue for themed, historic rooms was such that it was widely recognized
and even caricatured in the press. Cooperating with the artist Caran d’Ache (1859-
1909) for an 1886 article titled “Our Painters at Home,” a writer for the popular
journal La Revue illustrée created a comic portrait of a French painter of his time.
Inspired by the main styles in vogue at the Salon, including history painting,
orientalist painting, and troubadour painting, Caran d’Ache imagined the private lives
and homes of the artists who espoused them. As the article explained, “one assumes
that a painter of Roman history is a gentleman like you and I, dressed in black, armed
with an umbrella, endowed with a landlord and at ease with the telephone, as if all of
this would be possible! No, the painter of Roman history lives like a Roman.”
159

Caran d’Ache illustrated this way of living in a series of drawings representing the
main events in the daily life of a painter and member of the Academy (Fig. 1.3). The
artist woke up in his bedroom, decorated in the antique style; his bathroom, also
styled in the antique, flaunted a Roman bath; breakfast, served by the painter’s female
slave, followed the traditional Roman custom of lying down on one’s side while
eating. As his entire house displayed an antique décor, the artist himself was dressed

158
Jean-Pierre Épron also acknowledges this fact. According to him, following the collapse of the Old
Régime along with the tight control of the Académie d’architecture over what was good and what was
bad taste in architecture, the architectural models to be followed were extended to all periods of history
and not only to those of Greece and Rome. In this context, when history opened up its immensity of
references, “no perspective, no doctrine, no theory could be considered final.” See Épron, Comprendre
l’éclectisme, p. 19.

159
Émile Bergerat, “Les peintres chez eux,” La Revue illustrée (Déc. 1885-Mai 1886), p. 336.

68
in the antique style and wore a toga, enjoyed Roman activities, such as traversing the
streets of Paris in a chariot, and, in the evening attended Greek plays. By contrast, an
orientalist painter (Fig. 1.4) slept in an improvised tent guarded by lions in his
bedroom, took a Turkish bath, smoked a hookah, and enjoyed belly-dancing before
sitting down to work. A troubadour painter (Fig. 1.5) awakened to the sound of the
horn, replaced a frugal breakfast with a full medieval banquet, and chose as his
favorite promenade Cluny, Paris’ museum of the middle ages. Themed interiors, the
article suggested, engendered themed lives and naturally inspired themed works of
art.
Scholars have pointed out to the significance of turning themed period rooms
into topics of humor.
160
The fact that such rooms were caricatured in the press meant
that the conventions of interior decorating they displayed were broadly understood
and adopted by the public at large. In order for a theme to work and the illusion to be
complete, such popular texts suggested that all elements of an interior – hosts and
their costumes included – needed to cohere in a carefully-orchestrated ensemble.
Another publication titled Le Goût dans l'ameublement (1896) by the critic Henri de
Noussanne also confirmed the existence of multiple themed environments in
nineteenth-century bourgeois homes. De Noussanney joyfully challenged his readers
to find a head of a French administrative bureau who did not own a Henri II dining-

160
See especially Jeremy Aynsley, “The Modern Period Room – A Contradiction in Terms?” in Penny
Sparke, Brenda Martin, and Trevor Keeble, eds., The Modern Period Room: The Construction of the
Exhibited Interior 1870 to 1950 (London and New York: Routledge, 2006), p. 8. Aynsley discusses the
work of the British cartoonist Osbert Lancaster, especially the latter’s 1939 publication, Homes Sweet
Homes.

69
room or a Pompadour bedroom.
161
He contrasted the fantasy of a Henri II dining-
room, with its low-backrest chairs specifically designed so as to accommodate
women’s ample headdresses from that time, with the reality of the room’s nineteenth-
century male host, tightly-fitted in his suit, newspaper folded up by his glass, and
uncomfortably seated in his medieval banquet chair.
162
A similar discordance was
produced, de Noussanne suggested, when, in a blue, white, and gold Pompadour
bedroom redolent of the smart and secret life of a Regency marquise, instead of the
traditional powder box, frills, flounces, and smart gown prepared for madame’s next
public appearance at Versailles, one found the marquise’s nineteenth-century
counterpart amidst Venetian mirrors and frail ceramics, done up in a bicyclist’s
costume.
163
“Disenchantment!” de Noussanne cried – and allowed readers to partake
his disappointment.
In order for the theme to work and the illusion to be complete, nineteenth-
century writers like de Noussanne suggested that all elements of an interior – hosts
and their costumes included - needed to cohere and work together in a carefully-
orchestrated imaginative ensemble. Anything that could endanger the “veracity” of
the imaginary experience sought out through the interior decoration of a room would
have to be glossed over and harmonized within the larger whole. Should all details be
carefully attended to and arranged with an eye towards the elimination of

161
De Noussanne, Le Goût dans l'ameublement, p. 5. For more information about Henri de Noussanne,
please refer to Chapter 5.

162
Ibid., p. 11.

163
Ibid., p. 12.

70
anachronisms, a Pompadour bedroom could be a great fit for any nineteenth-century
owner. “Nothing is conclusive,” de Noussanne continued, “elegance will always
remain elegant, and even in the gracious setting of a Trianon bedroom or a pompous
décor of a Versailles drawing-room ... one can never bring a false note should one
know how to stylishly set it off with a laced cambric ... gown.”
164

The furniture designer (architecte d’ameublement) Édouard Bajot (1853-
1900s) adhered to these rules when imagining decorative schemes for private
interiors. His work provides an example of how the theoretical guidelines described
in advice manuals on collecting and decorating might have found practical
applications. Starting in the 1880s and until the early 1900s, Bajot published
numerous volumes dedicated to interior decoration and design, including a series of
books illustrating historic ornaments for architects and decorators,
165
a comprehensive
three-volume encyclopedia of furniture from the fifteenth century to his present
day,
166
a collection of nineteenth-century art furniture inspired by original historic

164
Ibid., p. 145.

165
Édouard Bajot, Frises et moulures ornées: Recueil de documents de styles Gothique, François Ier,
Henri II, Henri III, Henri IV, Louis XIII, Louis XIV, Louis XV, Louis XVI, Empire, tirés des principaux
musées, palais, châteaux, grandes collections, etc. (Paris: Charles Schmid, [1905]); Édouard Bajot,
Profils et tournages: Recueil de documents de styles Gothique, François Ier, Henri II, Henri III, Henri
IV (Paris: Schmid, 1899); Édouard Bajot, French Styles in Furniture and Architecture: 1500 Examples
of Structural and Ornamental Details of Original Work in Gothic, François I, Henri II, Henri III,
Henri IV, Louis XIII, Louis XIV, Louis XV, Louis XVI, Empire, and Modern, Chronologically Arranged
(New York: Paul Wenzel, [1890s]), very likely an English-version of Profils et tournages.

166
Édouard Bajot, Encyclopédie du meuble du 15e sièce à nos jours: Recueil de planches contenant
des meubles de style de toutes les époques et de tous les pays, depuis le XVe siècle jusqu’à nos jours,
classées par ordre alphabétique, avec une notice historique, 2000 meubles de style reproduits à grande
échelle (Paris: C. Schmid, [1901-09]).

71
sources,
167
as well as several pattern books of room ensembles dedicated to the
interior decoration of the private home.
168
From fifteenth-century decorative schemes
to nineteenth-century ones, including Art Nouveau, Bajot’s designs for room settings
paid attention to every detail of decoration, while always focusing on the ensemble as
a whole. The success of his publications is confirmed not only by their circulation and
translation into other languages such as English but also, and more importantly
perhaps, by the publication of later, modified editions of these books.
169


167
Édouard Bajot, Les Meubles d’art au XIXe siècle composés d’après les documents anciens des
principales époques de la Renaissance (Paris: Librairie artistique, industrielle et littéraire de Ch. Juliot,
[1886]).

168
Édouard Bajot, Intérieurs d’appartements meublés, vus en perspective dans les styles du XVe au
XVIIe siècles (Liège and Paris: Ch. Claesen, [1884]); Édouard Bajot, Les Styles dans la maison
française: Ornementation et décoration du XVe au XIXe siècle, à l’usage des architectes et
décorateurs, tapissiers, fabricants, artistes et amateurs (Paris: Librairie d’art industriel et d’économie
domestique Édouard Rouveyre, [1889]); Édouard Bajot, L’Art Nouveau: Décoration et ameublement
moderne (Paris: Ch. Schmid, [1898]); Édouard Bajot, Décoration intérieure d’appartements:
Ensembles d’intérieur vus en perspective, meubles, sièges, tentures, etc., dans les styles Gothique,
Renaissance, François Ier, Henri II, Louis XIII, Louis XIV, Louis XV et Louis XVI (Paris: Ch. Juliot,
1885).

169
The Getty version of Bajot’s French Styles in Furniture and Architecture belonged to H.R. Wilson.
Each page bears a stamp which says “property of H. R. Wilson, architect.” At least in one instance,
Bajot collaborated with the editor Charles Claesen, who had offices in Paris, Liège, and Berlin and
who also distributed his publications in Bruxelles through his agent, E. Lyon-Claesen. For later
editions, see especially Charles Kreutzberger, Du Choix et de la disposition des ameublements de style:
Étude des meubles au point de vue de leur destination variée depuis les salles d'apparat jusqu'aux
petits appartements dans lesquels se traduisent toutes les exigences de la vie privée,deux cent vingt
documents, dessins de Ch. Kretuzberger d'après les reconstitutions d'art ancien relevées par Édouard
Bajot, à l'usage des architectes et décorateurs, tapissiers, fabricants, artistes et amateurs, ces études
comprennent vingt intérieurs d'appartement: escaliers, antichambres, vestibules, salons, petits salons,
salles à manger, cabinets de travail, chambres à coucher, bibliothèques, vus en perspective et
accompagnés de deux cents détails d'ameublement ou motifs d'ornementation: armoires, bahuts,
baldaquin, buffets, bureaux, canapés, chaises, cheminées, consoles, corniches, draperies, dressoirs,
étagères, fauteuils, fenêtres, lambrequins, lambris, lits, moulures, panneaux, plafonds, portières,
poutres et poutrelles, tentures, tables, etc. (Paris: Édouard Rouveyre, 1898). Kreutzberger’s
publication reproduces Bajot’s images from Les Styles dans la maison française sometimes identically,
sometimes with minor modifications.

72
Available in several formats, with illustrations ranging from cheaper wood
engravings to the more expensive phototypies, which mechanically reproduced the
artist’s drawings without the interference of a printmaker’s hand,
170
and to the even
more lavish and costly, hand-colored special editions,
171
Bajot’s books were
dedicated to a varied public, including architects, decorators, upholsterers, furniture-
makers, artists, amateurs, bibliophiles, and other interested parties. An advertisement
for Bajot’s ca. 1884 Intérieurs d’appartements meublés (Interiors for Furnished
Apartments) describes the appeal of such publications in the advice they could
provide to both decorators and their clients. According to the advertisement, the
book’s interior views of dining rooms, libraries, bedrooms and salons, all reduced to
the same scale of one to ten for easier comprehension, “will initiate the furniture
maker and the upholsterer, as well as their client in the impression that an apartment
executed in a specific historic style should give.”
172
Publishing houses prided in such
publications due to their inclusion of lesser-known old furniture pieces taken from
public museums and private collections, in the drawing of which Bajot was an expert.

170
Both the Décoration intérieure d’appartements and the Intérieurs d’appartements meublés included
reproductions in phototypie of the artist’s drawings. The volumes cost 60 and 70 francs, respectively.
See the advertisment for the Décoration intérieure d’appartements at the back of Bajot’s Les Meubles
d’art, and in Claesen’s Catalogue illustré des livres de fonds (Liège, Paris and Bruxelles: Ch. Claesen,
1886) available at the Bibliothèque Nationale, respectively.

171
The price of a lavishly hand-colored volume of Intérieurs d’appartements meublés in the author’s
hand was no less than 500 francs. Only ten editions were produced, but the author has not been able to
find any so far. See Charles Claesen, Catalogue illustré des livres de fonds.

172
See Charles Claesen, Catalogue général d. tentures, ébénisterie, menuiserie, décoration intérieure
(Paris, Liège and Bruxelles: Ch. Claesen, [1884]), p. 10.

73
Bajot’s Les Styles dans la maison française (The Styles in the French Home)
of ca. 1889 was a practical book, which presented interior ensembles and furniture
details together, in one publication. To each general view of a room-setting such as
plate VI, a “Bibliothèque Fin du Gothique” (“Late-Gothic Library”) corresponded
details of the individual furniture objects or decorative fixtures that composed that
room. (Fig. 1.6) Thus, plate IV illustrated the sculpted-oak decoration on either side
of the table, the frieze-like relief decoration of the monumental fireplace, the high-
backrested chair, and the wrought-iron firedog (Fig. 1.7 – numbers 8-11,
respectively); while plate V included details for the sculpted oak stool, the wood
paneling, the oak dresser, a sculpture base, and an iron support for a wall-light. A
craftsman or interior decorator working from Bajot’s models could thus have easily
manufactured or commissioned any of these items and could have included them in
his own work so as to create a historically-accurate, themed architectural ensemble.
The book operated as a practical guide and visually illustrated how the theoretical
principles set forth in writing by decorating advisors could be applied to real interiors.
By 1893, when the publishing house of Édouard Rouveyre participated at the World’s
Fair in Chicago, Bajot’s Les Styles dans la maison française had achieved the status
of a classic. Its value was compared to that of Henry Havard’s Grammaire de
l’ameublement, which, as we have already seen, was recommended reading for all
parties interested in home decorating.
173


173
Krantz, Rapports sur l’Exposition internationale de Chicago.

74
While Bajot’s Les Styles dans la maison française did not initially incorporate
text alongside images, a later edition of this book, titled Du Choix et de la disposition
des ameublements de style (Of the Choice and Arrangement of Furnishings in
Various Styles) (1898), included a small textual description of each interior ensemble
rendered. Also published by Édouard Rouveyre, who might have maintained some
publication rights over Bajot’s plates, Du Choix et de la disposition des
ameublements de style presented illustrations that Charles Kreutzberger copied from
Les Styles dans la maison française and improved.
174
The dates of the interiors
proposed slightly changed (for example, the Louis XI “Bibliothèque Fin du
Gothique” from the fifteenth century became a “Bibliothèque Période Ogivale,” dated
more precisely to the years 1422-1461 of Charles VII’s reign), but the order in which
the illustrations were presented and their general outlines remained the same.
175
Thus,
Bajot’s design for the Louis XI Gothic Library, which we have seen earlier, was not
much different from Kreutzberger’s rendition of it (Fig. 1.8). While a general
preference for more ornament can be seen throughout the latter design, including in
the wall-paper, ceiling and window-curtain patterns, Kreutzberger remained faithful
to his model and, although he removed a superfluous flag from the corner of the

174
Charles Kreutzberger (1829-c. 1900s) was a painter of portraits, genre scenes, landscapes, who
showed at the Salon of 1863. See E. Bénézit, Dictionnaire critique et documentaire des peintres,
sculpteurs, dessinateurs, et graveurs de tous les temps et de tous les pays par un groupe d’écrivains
spécialistes français et étrangers, vol. 8 (Paris: Éditions Gründ, 1999), p. 45.

175
It is interesting, however, to note how the notion of what was acceptable for public viewing had
change between 1889 and 1898: among the minor changes that Kreutzberger made to Bajot’s drawings
was the censorship of certain body-parts that now appeared too exposed. For example, in the
illustration of a Renaissance bedroom, he added clothes to a sculpture of Diana represented by Bajot in
the nude.

75
room, he nevertheless maintained the same objects and the same general decorative
lines that Bajot had imagined in his initial drawing.
The innovations brought by Kreutzberger’s edition, however, can be found in
the textual explanations that it provided for Bajot’s choices of the various furniture
pieces and decorative objects displayed in his imaginary interiors. We thus find out
how, with each illustration, the imagined décor reflected the realities of the time-
period the artist attempted to recreate. In our example of the library “Fin du
Gothique” manuscript-holders were employed instead of modern shelves. There was
no need for a more complex piece of furniture to store books when the latter did not
yet exist and when, besides engravings, manuscripts were the single main elements of
a library.
176
A cabinet with shutters, as the image showed, would have provided
enough storage-space for such holdings. The writing-desk, on the other hand, was
indispensable - not least because the reader, none other than the nineteenth-century
head of the household, was also going to be, like his medieval predecessor, a well-
versed manuscript “illuminator.”
177
Bajot reserved the tallest chair in the room, not
shown in the image but prescribed as a necessary component of the interior ensemble
and included in the details, for the host. For guests, a smaller-sized bench, barely
visible in the lower left-hand corner, could be moved around at will.
178
The text thus
described the decorator’s intention of transposing both visitors and hosts into an

176
Kreutzberger, Du Choix et de la disposition des ameublements de style.

177
Ibid.

178
Ibid.

76
imaginary world of the past, where one’s daily habits and social interactions had to
change accordingly. Interiors directed their owners on how to behave.
Should a medieval theme not seem satisfactory for a modern library, the
nineteenth-century home owner could choose to have this room decorated in a
different style. Indeed, Bajot carefully provided other examples throughout his book,
thus offering decorating alternatives. A library in the style of the Renaissance from
the era of François I served as a counterpart to the medieval library that we have just
seen. (Fig. 1.9) If no shelves were allowed in the Gothic interior, two large bookcases
now stood on each side of the reading-desk, with books carefully arranged behind the
two drop-down curtains that protected them. With the invention of the printing press
in the 1440s, the reader was told, manuscripts had become a thing of the past. Scribes,
copyists, and illuminators had much less work to do; and reading began to take
precedence over writing. Books thus began to line up on shelves, and appropriate
book-cases replaced manuscript-holders.
179

Louis XV was yet another style that Bajot proposed for a modern library. (Fig.
1.10) Rather than protected by a mere set of curtains, shelves of books were now
layered behind glass doors; and the host, rather than a mere “illuminator,” was a man
of taste - an enlightened, encyclopedic soul, like his eighteenth-century predecessor
had been. His knowledge covered all fields of the arts and sciences, including
philosophy, metaphysics, and even archeology, and his library had to accommodate

179
Ibid.

77
the numerous books that encompassed these disparate bodies of knowledge.
180
Here,
too, the secret of providing a realistic experience of an eighteenth-century
environment lay in the details. It did not suffice to own a large number of books
carefully placed in a historically-accurate setting, curvilinear rococo-style furniture
and highly-decorated wood paneling included. Rather, books had to be supplemented
by “exquisite miniatures” and “venerable art relics,” as well as by “medals and
jewelry … from exotic countries,” all hidden away in drawers and dens which
maintained a sense of secrecy.
181
An accurate Louis XV library décor, therefore, also
had to include things from far-away lands, which permitted the Gothic illuminator to
become an amateur collector. What in our eyes today might seem an eclectic interior
that mixed rococo objects with antiques and oriental pieces was only a reiteration of
an accurate French eighteenth-century room for a nineteenth-century home owner.
The color of the epoch was thus also introduced in even the smallest details.
Whoever desired to display a Renaissance or a Gothic library in his or her home had
to be well-versed in the history of the specific period cited. Before becoming a
successful decorator, one had to be a thriving antiquarian. One had to know what
kinds of books had been used and when, what their format had been, as well as how
they had been employed. One had to make concessions to the period chosen and
eliminate anachronisms from one’s interior setting: books rarely belonged in a Gothic
room dedicated to manuscripts (if at all) and large folios were usually preferred in a

180
Ibid.

181
Ibid.

78
Renaissance-themed library. Once collectibles were added to the room, the
nineteenth-century inhabitant was imaginarily transported to the age of curiosity and
frivolity that characterized the eighteenth century of philosophers.
Like Rémon shortly after, in his ca. 1884 publication Intérieurs
d’appartements meublés, Bajot employed sculptural reproductions of figures from
classical mythology to render a Louis XIII interior. (Fig. 1.11) An inverted copy of
Apollo Belvedere can be seen in the foreground on the left, while a possible replica of
Jean-Antoine Houdon’s much later marble statue of the Greek goddess Diana (ca.
1776) poses as its pendant in the background.
182
The Renaissance obsession with
antiquity and classical mythology was thus reflected in this nineteenth-century
remake of an interior from that epoch. For the nineteenth-century inhabitant of such
an interior it did not matter that neither of these two works belonged to the
Renaissance. While Apollo Belvedere was a classical work rediscovered during the
Renaissance and considered to be one of Antiquity’s most accomplished artworks
throughout the eighteenth and the nineteenth centuries, Houdon’s sculpture was an
eighteenth-century work that only had in common with the Renaissance the
fascination with classical mythology. By referencing classical mythology in a
Renaissance setting, however, Bajot stayed within the chosen style, thus avoiding
blatant anachronisms. His work thus respected the theoretical prescriptions imposed

182
Houdon’s marble version of Diana, which preceded the bronze version currently in the Louvre, can
be seen in the Museu Calouste Gulbenkian in Lisbon. The Apollo Belvedere was rediscovered during
the Renaissance, and in the nineteenth century it was located in the Vatican. Marble copies of this
sculpture could be purchased from the Maison Barbedienne for as little as eighty francs a piece,
although one could also pay as much as 825 francs for the same work. See Maison F. Barbedienne,
Catalogue des bronzes d'art (s.l.: s.n., 1875).

79
by decorating advisors, and, while seemingly eclectic, it nevertheless obeyed their
rules and regulations.
In an attempt to provide models for successful recreations of historic or exotic
settings, a plethora of books was published in the last quarter of nineteenth-century
France. Interior design schemes often maintained the general impression of a single
chosen theme all throughout. Decorators created the semblance of a past time through
allusion to its specific artworks, architectural buildings, intellectual pursuits, or
collecting practices. Such references, including copies of well-known works of art,
used a visual language that was already familiar to those who visited public spaces
such as museums or universal exhibitions, or who read about private collections in the
illustrated press. If the reader of interior decoration pattern books such as those by
Édouard Bajot did not immediately recognize the style or the theme of the room
proposed through the style of the carpets, window hangings, or wallpaper employed,
familiar imagery or reductions of famous sculptures offered cues about the correct
period the interior attempted to recreate.
A fevered discussion was taking place in the literature on collecting and
decorating at the time – whether dedicated to men or to women – about what kinds of
objects should be used in a specific interior, how they should be used and when. Taste
instructors debated the role and quality of imitations, argued over the latter’s
suitability in the home, and tried to establish when and where such objects were
allowed, if at all. When studied in their original context, rather than unconditionally
eclectic, interior decoration designs present themselves as accurate renditions of

80
historically-remote or exotic spaces that could be collected in private apartments.
Without necessarily acknowledging it openly, educators were both contesting and
complementing each other’s arguments. The printed medium of the book proved to be
a fertile ground for such discussions, thus establishing the common theoretical
grounds of the late nineteenth-century popular visual culture of interior decorating.
Thinking about the nineteenth-century practice of interior decorating in non gender
specific terms allows us not only to recognize the permeability of boundaries between
collecting and decorating at the time but also to understand the complexities of
interior décor in a culture overwhelmed by an abundance of goods. A new aesthetic
was being developed in the collecting and decorating manuals of the second half of
the nineteenth century, which was less about the past and more about the present.
Conversations always kept an eye on the theatricality of the rooms, the accurate
rendition of another world or period style, as well as on the creation of holistic design
schemes that could promote imaginary time-travel through interior decoration.
Decorators and furniture designers like Georges Rémon and Édouard Bajot helped
give these theories visual form, thus proposing to the late nineteenth-century public
decorating schemes that abided by the rules advisors established in writing. Rather
than a superficial activity that resulted in random associations of objects in space,
interior decorating in the age of historicism was, as I hope to have showed, a complex
matter that deserves further attention from present-day scholarship.

81

Fig. 1.1: Georges Rémon, “Salon d’attente Renaissance,” from
Intérieurs d’appartements modernes (c. 1892)
Fig. 1.2 : Frontispiece, Gazette des beaux-arts vol. 1
(Jan.-Feb.-March 1859)

82

Fig. 1.3 : Caran d’Ache, “Peintre member de l’Institut,” in Émile
Bergerat, “Les peintres chez eux,” La Revue illustrée (Dec. 1885-
May 1886)

83

Fig. 1.4 : Caran d’Ache, “Peintre Orientaliste,” in Émile Bergerat, “Les
peintres chez eux,” La Revue illustrée (Dec. 1885-May 1886)

84

Fig. 1.5: Caran d’Ache, “Peintre d’histoire,” in Émile Bergerat, “Les
peintres chez eux,” La Revue illustrée (Dec. 1885-May 1886)

85

Fig. 1.6: Édouard Bajot, “Fin du Gothique, Époque Louis XI -
Bibliothèque,” from Les Styles dans la maison française (c. 1889)

86

Fig. 1.7: Édouard Bajot, “Fin du Gothique, Époque Louis XI – Bibliothèque
[8: Table imitée du musée de Bruges; 9: Profil de la partie supérieure de la
cheminée; 10: Siège à haut dossier (la partie inférieure s’ouvre en forme de
coffre); 11: Partie supérieure d’un landier (fer forgé)],” from Les Styles dans
la maison française (c. 1889)

87

Fig. 1.8: Charles Kreutzberger, “Période Ogivale: Bibliothèque –
Ensemble,” from Du choix et de la disposition des ameublements de
style (1898)

88

Fig. 1.9: Édouard Bajot, “Style Renaissance, Époque François Ier -
Bibliothèque,” from Les Styles dans la maison française (c. 1889)

89

Fig. 1.10: Édouard Bajot, “Style Louis XV (XVIIIe siècle) -
Bibliothèque,” from Les Styles dans la maison française (c. 1889)

90

Fig. 1.11: Édouard Bajot, “Cabinet d’amateur Louis XIII,” from
Intérieurs d’appartements meublés (c. 1884)

91
Chapter 2:
Selling Interior Decoration Designs:
Upholsterers, Interior Decorators, and the French Art World

The critic, art historian, and fine arts inspector Henry Havard (1838-1921) proclaimed
in 1900 that painting, with its fabled references to history and literature, was the
quintessential art of nineteenth-century France, thus confirming the art critic’s
Charles-Ernest Beulé’s (1826-1874) earlier assertion that public taste demanded from
the arts that which it also required from drama.
183
“The public,” Havard explained,
“once it sets its heart on one art, desires to see the latter’s reflection in all others.”
184

The art of interior decoration offered no exception.
185
Colorful and rich fabrics helped
create fanciful decorative schemes, where any architectural elements referring to a
world beyond, including window frames, door cases, and valances, were carefully
concealed.
186
Interiors became worlds onto themselves, like paintings with a story to
tell. This chapter examines the development of the profession of interior decorator in
the nineteenth century through the eyes of the upholsterer, a professional category

183
Havard’s view had gained currency at least since the Second Empire, when Charles-Ernest Beulé
asserted: “We want … to be amused at all costs, and we are more open to odd artworks than we are to
beauty. Public taste demands from the arts that which it requires from drama, from the novel… . This
is why painting reigns supreme.” See Charles-Ernest Beulé, Causeries sur l’art (Paris: Didier, 1867) as
quoted in Havard, Histoire et philosophie des styles, p. 692. For more information on Charles-Ernest
Beulé, see Isabelle Bardies-Fronty, “Beulé, Charles-Ernest,” in Philippe Sénéchal and Claire Barbillon,
eds., Dictionnaire critique des historiens de l’art actifs en France de la Révolution à la Première
Guerre Mondiale (Paris: INHA), http://www.inha.fr/spip.php?article2199 (visited June 21, 2011,
forthcoming).

184
Havard, Histoire et philosophie des styles, p. 695.

185
Ibid., p. 692.

186
Ibid., p. 696.

92
most frequently associated during the period with the reign of the so-called goût
tapissier. The chapter positions the work of the upholsterer in relation to a growing
visual culture of the interior which was also supported by other professional groups,
including but not limited to cabinet-makers, illustrators, architects, and department
store employees.
Indeed, taste advisors often compared the end-result of an interior ensemble to
the effect of a well-proportioned and well-organized painting, where every element
had to cohere in order to successfully contribute to the final effect.
187
Harmony in
decoration, which often translated into interiors designed in a historically accurate
manner, was everyone’s goal and was attempted everywhere. Country-wives such as
Gustave Flaubert’s (1821-1880) heroine of 1856, Emma Bovary, nearly ruined their
families in order to achieve this uncontested harmony in decoration.
188
Enchanted by
Parisian fashion and dazzled by the powerful advertising campaigns of shrewd
marchands de nouveautés who advanced credit for women shoppers, Madame
Bovary acquired silk to upholster her furniture, lace to trim her armchairs, long
yellow drapes to adorn her windows, and several carpets to soften her floors.
189
When
her family’s fortune could not provide for such extravagances, haunted by creditors,

187
Blondel, Grammaire de la curiosité, p. 354.

188
Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary (Paris: Michel Lévy, 1857). The novel had already appeared in
the pages of the literary magazine La Revue de Paris in 1856.

189
Emma procured most items of interior decoration from M. Lheureux, described by Flaubert as both
a marchand d’étoffes (cloth-salesman) and a marchand de nouveautés. Lheureux’s commerce included
everything, from travel items and dress-fabrics to lace for upholstering and material for window-
curtains. When in need of money, both Emma and Charles Bovary appealed to M. Lheureux, who also
operated as a pawn-broker.

93
the profligate heroine took her life. In the hyper-commercialized world of the
nineteenth-century, where each and every object could be clad in cloth, including a
vase, a painting, or a piano, one would expect that upholsterers would have sold their
services in a blatant way. Instead, their main goal was to subvert the commercial
aspect of their profession by emphasizing artistic skill. More specifically, then, this
chapter examines the strategies that renowned French upholsterers from the second
half of the nineteenth century used in order to attract clients and to sell the idea of the
complete interior, the apex of aesthetic refinement, as we have seen in Chapter 1, to
their customers.
For a publication intended as a guide to the arrangement of private interiors to
openly admit that one of its proposed designs had never materialized in the real world
and was too large [gigantesque] for a nineteenth-century middle-class home was the
exception rather than the rule. Yet this was how the upholsterer and decorator Jules
Verdellet (ca.1810s/1820s – ca. 1883) described his illustration of a Moorish
Drawing-Room-Greenhouse or Conservatory [Salon-serre ou veranda] in his serial
publication The Practical Art of the Upholsterer [L’Art pratique du tapissier].
190
(Fig.

190
Jules Verdellet, L’Art pratique du tapissier no. 5, fourth edition (Paris: Charles Claesen, 1883), pp.
25-26. L’Art pratique du tapissier was first published between 1871 and 1871 in five series of twelve
plates each. While the exact birth date of Jules Verdellet is not know, he seems to have died around
1883, since he was referred to as “the late M. J. Verdellet” (feu M. J. Verdellet) in a publications
catalog by the Belgian publishing house of Charles Claesen. See Ch. Claesen, Catalogue général. D.
tentures, ébénisterie, menuiserie: Décoration intérieure (Paris: Librairie spéciale des arts industriels et
décoratifs Ch. Claesen, Libraire-éditeur, [1883]). I have determined the catalog’s publication date to be
1883 since Verdellet’s L’Art pratique du tapissier, advertized in it, was published entirely in its fourth
edition only in 1883. In 1851, Verdellet published the Manuel géométrique du tapissier (Paris:
L'auteur, 1851) under the auspices of the Chambre syndicale des tapissiers, so he must have been in
his late 20s or 30s by then. See Jules Verdellet, Manuel géométrique du tapissier, third edition, revised
and improved (Paris: Chez l'auteur et chez les principaux éditeurs, 1877).

94
2.1) Featuring a tent-like construction made of an all-fabric casing that included
walls, windows, floor, and ceiling alike, Verdellet’s room would have served no
practical purpose except to provide a space for social gathering, conversations
energized by the murmur of a water-fountain and the soft breeze caressing the foliage
adjoining the walls. In attempting to sell his upholstering services to as large a client-
base as possible, Verdellet adopted a non-commercial look for what undoubtedly was
a very commercial publication that advertised his business in the vein of a trade
catalog. Dealing in idealized interiors, Verdellet and others like him showcased a
nineteenth-century display of virtuosity. However, rather than subverting the spirit of
commerce through such means, this chapter will show that upholsterers were, in fact,
honing in on it.
In an attempt to gain commissions, which would secure a steady income,
nineteenth-century upholsterers positioned themselves as purveyors of taste by
publishing models of interiors. In a world that brought the inside out through
paintings, watercolors, prints, and popular books, serial publications such as The
Practical Art of the Upholsterer were increasingly marketed as collections of works
of art even more than as pattern books or practical trade manuals. Available to the
general public without trade-specific, practical information about the cutting, sowing,
and display of materials, such collections promoted their authors as providers of
interior decorating services and served as marketing tools, all the while hiding

95
commercial interests behind an artistic aura.
191
Illustrations of interiors thus helped
create demand for the upholsterer’s services while also being sold in large numbers as
artworks and possibly as collectibles. As this chapter will show, in order to be
successful, an upholsterer and decorator such as Jules Verdellet was compelled to
present himself not only as a businessman and a professional but also as a talented
artist. As such, he helped define the new profession of interior decorator for the
public at large.
When the nineteenth-century cabinet-maker Henri-Auguste Fourdinois (1830-
1907) wrote about the state of the French furniture industry in 1885, he proclaimed
that his country’s production and artistic skill lagged far behind those of its
neighboring countries.
192
One of the reasons he cited for this failure was the
intervention of the upholsterer, who, “only seeing the possibility of breaking a deal,”
usually chose the items specific to his trade in the composition of an interior
decorating scheme.
193
“And there goes your town-house invaded by rag,” the author

191
Each plate from L’Art pratique du tapissier was accompanied by a descriptive text that addressed
practical solutions for the composition of the various interior decorating schemes that the book
proposed. However, the text was only available to the community of upholsterers. While the general
public could access Verdellet’s illustrations, it could not procure the written explanations that
accompanied them. See Jules Verdellet, L’Art pratique du tapissier no. 1, fourth edition (Paris: Charles
Claesen, 1882), p. 14.

192
Fourdinois explained how the French, rather than regard the British and the German attempts to
revive their national industries as a threat to French production, including the creation of design
museums, the formation of design schools, and the publication of books to enhance public taste, had
considered such activities as an homage to the innate French taste in furniture and interior decorating.
He wrote: “Convinced of our proverbial superiority, proud of our successes at universal exhibitions,
we let go, regarding with a benevolent indulgence these efforts, which, taken against us, were still an
homage given to our taste.” See Henri Fourdinois, De l'état actuel de l'industrie du mobilier. Extrait de
la Revue des Arts décoratifs d'avril 1885 (Paris: Édouard Rouveyre, s.d.), pp. 1-2.

193
Ibid., p. 10.

96
concluded.
194
As one of the leading furniture-makers in nineteenth-century France,
Fourdinois’ opinion may very well have been shared by many other furniture
producers and architects at the time.
195
More interestingly, it has also influenced
scholars’ writings about nineteenth-century French upholsterers since. Despised by
their contemporaries and dismissed as insignificant, nineteenth-century French
upholsterers were scapegoats for everything that went bad in interior decoration at the
time. Contemporaries blamed them for the obsession with styles from the past as well
as for the profusion of drapery in any one private interior. As a consequence, the
interior decorating aesthetic of the entire second half of the nineteenth century
became known as “the upholsterer’s taste” (le goût tapissier), a style which scholars
continue to scornfully label this way up to this date.
196

This chapter, then, proposes a fresh look at the activity of nineteenth-century
French upholsterers especially through the published work of Jules Verdellet, an
upholsterer and decorator strongly involved in the professional life of his trade. It
argues that a re-evaluation of the artistic practice of the nineteenth-century
upholsterer is needed before one can fully begin to understand how the profession of
the interior designer was developed and such artistic movements as Art Nouveau

194
Ibid.

195
As we shall see, architects, upholsterers, cabinet-makers, and art dealers competed against and
highly criticized each other throughout most of the nineteenth century. Since all of them claimed the
right to operate in the field of interior decorating and design, they often launched extensive diatribes
against each other.

196
See DeJean, The Age of Comfort, p. 164: “What now seems the stuffed-to-the-gills, bloated look of
many nineteenth-century interiors is a direct result of what has been called ‘the reign of the
upholsterer.’ It was interior decoration at the service of an entirely new definition of comfort, no longer
orthopedically sound, no longer clean-lined, no longer seductively harmonious.”

97
managed to merge the “high arts” and crafts as well as art and commerce towards the
end of century.
197
Moreover, if the entire art of nineteenth-century French interior
decoration has largely been denigrated until the emergence of Art Nouveau,
considered as a breakthrough from traditional historic styles, and, hence, worthy of
inclusion in the art historical canon, it is because of a lack of understanding of the
innovations brought about by other professional groups such as that of the
upholsterer.
198
By looking at who some of these upholsterers were, what kind of work
they did, and how they navigated the realms of the “high” and the decorative arts at
the time, the chapter also illuminates the beginnings of the profession of interior

197
See Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle France, p.1.

198
While numerous books have been dedicated to the French Art Nouveau and its effects on interior
decorating, including Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle France, Gabriel P. Weisberg, Art
Nouveau Bing: Paris Style 1900 (New York: Abrams, in association with the Smithsonian Institution
Traveling Exhibition Service, 1986), Jean-Michel Leniaud, L’Art Nouveau (Paris: Citadelles Mazenod,
2000), Paul Greenhalgh, ed., Art Nouveau: 1890-1914 (New York: Harry N. Abrams, 2000), and
Stephen Eisenman, with Corinne Granof, eds., Design in the Age of Darwin: From William Morris to
Frank Lloyd Wright (Evanston, Ill.: Northwestern University Press, 2008), comparatively fewer books
have been dedicated to the decorative arts of the period immediately preceding the opening in 1895 of
L’Art Nouveau gallery by Siegfried Bing, which provided the new aesthetic movement with its name.
Among these, with the exception of Badea-Päun, Le Style Second Empire, most have been written by
museum curators or published in conjunction with museum exhibitions, including Nouvel-Kammerer,
Le Mobilier français, Gabet, Le Décorateur et l’amateur d’art: Décors intérieurs (Milan and Paris: 5
continents and Musée d’Orsay, 2008), Un Âge d’or des arts décoratifs, and Catherine Arminjon,
Yvonne Brunhammer, et al, L’Art de Vivre: Decorative Arts and Design in France, 1789-1989 (New
York: The Vendome Press and Cooper-Hewitt Museum, 1989). Most of these books treat the
nineteenth-century interior decoration produced by famous architects such as Félix Duban (1797-
1870), Eugène-Emmanuel Viollet-le-Duc (1814-1879), and Pierre Manguin (1815-1869) for the rich
interiors that they worked for, including Dampierre, Pierrefonds, Roquetaillade, the Hôtel Païva, etc.
More recently, scholars have also begun to look at French cabinet-makers and their role in interior
decorating. See, for example, Camille Mestdagh and Pierre Lécoules, L'Ameublement d'art français
1850-1900 (Paris: Ed. l'Amateur, 2010), Auslander, Taste and Power, especially pp. 225-254, Denise
Ledoux-Lebard, Meubles et ensembles époque Second Empire (Paris: Charles Massin, 1966), and
Olivier Gabet, “Sources et modèles d’un ébéniste au XIXe siècle: L’exemple d’Henri Fourdinois
(1830-1907),” in Bulletin de la Société de l’histoire de l’art français (2002), pp. 261-279. To my
knowledge, however, there currently exists no comprehensive study dedicated exclusively to French
upholsterers.

98
designer in the second half of the nineteenth century, as well as his ambivalent
relationship to both art and commerce – two phenomena that, until now, have largely
been attributed in France to the proponents of Art Nouveau.
199

Lastly, nineteenth-century upholsterers deserve a new look, even if only to
demystify their role as "bad guys" in the story of a nineteenth-century taste overcome
by clutter, imitations, and cloth. Indeed, by looking at publications produced by such
upholsters as Jules Verdellet, one can notice how these artists’ activities were part and
parcel of the times in which they lived – both influenced by the artistic world around
them and a direct response to the challenges posed by other professional communities
involved in the design of the private interior. Architects, cabinet-makers, dealers in
antiques, illustrators, and even department stores – all wanted a share of the lucrative
business of interior decoration. This chapter, then, ultimately argues that, rather than
the only one responsible for shaping nineteenth-century French interior design, the
upholsterer was just one among many professionals accountable for the so-called
nineteenth-century goût tapissier.
The chapter begins with a short introduction to the development in the
nineteenth century of the field of interior decorating to which several professional
groups such as upholsterers, architects, cabinet-makers, and dealers in antiques
subscribed. After briefly portraying the various groups involved in the art and
business of interior decorating, it proceeds to examine the growing market for interior
decoration designs, which had had a direct impact on the visual presentation and

199
Nancy J. Troy, Modernism and the Decorative Arts, p. 173.

99
underlying purpose of publications by late nineteenth-century French upholsterers
such as Jules Verdellet. The chapter concludes with an examination of the work of
Jules Verdellet, a prominent upholsterer and decorator in the second half of
nineteenth-century France.
Interior decoration as a practice was well established by the end of the
nineteenth century. Scholars have pointed how out the origins of the term “interior
decoration” lie at least at the beginning of the century, with the British painter and
architect Thomas Hope’s (1769-1831) publication Household Furniture and Interior
Decoration of 1807.
200
A friend of Charles Percier (1764-1838), Hope openly
acknowledged his debt to the renowned French architect.
201
Percier, too, in
collaboration with Pierre-François-Leonard Fontaine (1762-1853) had also used a
similar term in his 1801 publication Recueil de décorations intérieures [Compendium
of Interior Decorations], thus pushing the origin of “interior decoration” as a term
even further back in time.
202
For other scholars, the birth of modern interior
decoration coincided with the period 1840-1850, when the new fortunes following the
onset of the July Monarchy allowed bourgeois Parisians to commission new and

200
Gere, Nineteenth-Century Decoration, p 47.

201
See Thomas Hope, Household Furniture and Interior Decoration Executed from Designs by
Thomas Hope (London: Longman, Hurst, Rees & Orme, 1807). Charlotte Gere also mentions that a
close relationship existed between Thomas Hope and Charles Percier. See Gere, Nineteenth-Century
Decoration, p. 24.

202
Penny Sparke, The Modern Interior (London: Reaktion Books, 2008), p. 91. Also see Charles
Percier and Pierre-François-Leonard Fontaine, Recueil de décorations intérieures, comprenant tout ce
qui a rapport à l’ameublement comme vases, trépieds, candélabres, cassolettes ... miroirs, ecrans, etc.
(Paris: Chez les auteurs, 1801).

100
fabulous mansions from modern architects from scratch.
203
Yet others have found the
origin of the term as early as the end of the seventeenth century, when the expression
“interior decoration” appeared in the private correspondence of Nicodemus Tessin the
Younger and Daniel Cronström, two Swedes looking to France for the newest
achievements in private domestic architecture.
204
According to the literary historian
Joan DeJean, interior decoration crystallized as a new professional field once
“compilations of designs for fireplaces and wall treatments,” which “showed how
mirrors and a few well-chosen objects could be used to create a total look for a small
part of a room,” were published by such architects as Robert de Cotte (1656-1735),
Pierre Le Pautre (ca. 1660-1744), and Jean-Baptise Le Roux (ca. 1677-1746), in the
mid-eighteenth century.
205

Although the practice of interior decorating might have already been formed
and its parameters outlined early in the eighteenth century, the term “interior
decorator” for what we think of as the practitioner of interior decorating did not gain
common currency and was not entirely defined until much later.
206
As late as 1881,

203
See especially Gabet, Le Décorateur et l’amateur d’art, pp. 10-12.

204
See especially DeJean, The Age of Comfort, p. 144. DeJean convincingly argues that “prior to the
seventeenth century’s final decades, there was no need for the phrase interior decoration, for the
concept of decoration barely existed. During all the centuries when households were often on the
move, a room’s ornamentation was limited to fireplaces, wall hangings, and ceiling decoration.” See
DeJean, The Age of Comfort, p. 145.

205
DeJean, The Age of Comfort, p. 146.

206
Jeremy Aynsley and Francesca Berry, “Introduction Publishing the Modern Home: Magazines and
the Domestic Interior 1870-1965,” in Journal of Design History 18, no. 1 (2005), see the profession of
the interior decorator beginning to crystallize in Europe starting with the 1870s, as a consequence of
the new genre of magazine publishing about the modern domestic interior: “Out of a new genre of
publication, modern professional roles for men and, increasingly, for women emerged – those of the

101
the interior decorator as a professional was still in search of a title. A publication
dedicated to the 1878 Paris Universal Exhibition suggests the impoverished
vocabulary that existed to describe the activity of one of the most famous interior
decorating businesses at the time. To explain the work of the French upholsterer and
decorator Henry Penon, responsible for the Pavillon de l’Impératrice at the 1867
Paris Exposition universelle, including the latter’s architecture, furniture, paintings,
and sculptures, the 1881 book used such words as upholsterer (tapissier), decorator
(décorateur), cabinet-maker (ébéniste), and draftsman (dessinateur)
interchangeably.
207

The fact that the interior decorator as a professional had not by 1881 received
a universal name is even more surprising given the plethora of pattern books and
specialized journals that provided illustrations of interior architectural ensembles
beginning in the mid-nineteenth century. Yet their authors did not see themselves as a
group or even as part of the same professional field. To describe the similar services
that they all offered, they added to the old trade denominations of architect
(architecte), upholsterer (tapissier), cabinet-maker (ébéniste) or carpenter
(menuisier), terms as varied “decorator,” “draftsman,” and “architect.” One thus
encountered an array of expressions that each described similar professional

in-terior designer and the design journalist,” p. 5. See also Grace Lees-Maffei, “Introduction:
Professionalization as a Focus in Interior Design History” Journal of Design History 21, no. 1 (2008),
pp. 1-18.

207
Turgan, Les Grandes usines, p. 174. For an account of Penon’s Pavillon de l’Impératrice see Jules
Diéterle and Digby Wyatt, “Ouvrage de tapissier,” in Michel Chevalier, ed., Exposition Universelle de
1867 à Paris: Rapports du Jury International (Paris: Imprimérie et librairie administratives de Paul
Dupont, 1867), p. 7.

102
activities: “upholster-decorator” (tapissier-décorateur), “architect-decorator”
(architecte-décorateur), “artist-decorator” (artiste-décorateur), “painter-decorator”
(peintre-décorateur), “draftsman-decorator” (dessinateur-décorateur), “furniture
architect” (architecte d’ameublement), “creator of ensembles” (ensemblier),
“upholsterer-draftsman” (tapissier-dessinateur), “draftsman in carpentry and
furniture” (dessinateur en menuiserie et ameublement) or, simply, “decorator”
(décorateur).
208
Providers of interior decorating services often used one or more such
titles to describe their work. While they were trained primarily in one area (as
upholsterers, cabinet-makers, illustrators, architects, stage designers, etc.), most
professional groups specialized in full interior decorating services and advertized
complete interiors. The inventiveness of these terms culminated in the definition put
forth by the famous nineteenth-century writer and collector of eighteenth-century
objects, Edmond de Goncourt (1822-1896). For Goncourt, the only alternative to his
career as a writer would have been one that, maybe in the absence of a better term, he
humorously labeled an “inventor of interiors” (inventeur d’intérieurs).
209

Indeed, after the 1791 suppression of guilds, nothing seemed unusual to the
nineteenth-century Frenchman in the use of several terms - despite their consistent

208
See P. Brunet, Le Tapissier décorateur de Paris; Eugène Prignot, Le Siège moderne par Eug.
Prignot, architecte-décorateur à Paris, chevalier de la Légion d’honneur (Liège, Paris, Berlin: Ch.
Claesen, 1885); Victor Champier, “Les artistes de l’industrie – Constantin Sévin, artiste décorateur,”
Revue des arts décoratifs (December 1888 – February 1889), pp. 161-176; A. Louis Rey, Choix de
compositions diverses et motifs variés d'ornementation extraits des oeuvres de A. Louis Rey, peintre
décorateur (Paris: A. Calavas, 1884); Édouard Bajot, Les Meubles d’art au XIXe siècle composés
d’après les documents anciens des principales époques de la Renaissance par E. Bajot, architecte
d’ameublement … (Paris: Librairie artistique, industrielle et littéraire de Ch. Juliot, [1886]); Jules
Verdellet, Perspective Industrielle par Jules Verdellet, tapissier dessinateur (s.l.: s.n., s.d.).

209
De Goncourt, La Maison d'un artiste, pp. 26-27.

103
overlap in meaning - to describe the same design preoccupations. Before the French
Revolution, the various guilds (carpenters, cabinet-makers, upholsterers) had
controlled the prices, quality, and work conditions very strictly as well as maintained
a monopoly on the production of any given object.
210
If, in the 1780s, an upholsterer
was part of a guild half artisanal and half retail, and his occupation was defined as
that of a merchant who bought, produced, and sold “all kinds of tapestries and other
furnishings,” competition had been seen as inimical to consumers’ interests and an
intense specialization and collaboration had governed all trades.
211
Following the
abolition of guilds, carpenters, cabinet-makers and upholsterers, rather than be
responsible for the production and commercialization primarily of those objects
specific to their trade (be that woodwork, furniture, or upholstery), started to produce
or procure everything that was needed for the furnishing and arrangement of
interiors.
212
In the absence of any clear regulations, everybody could do everything;
and what they all wanted to do was get a share in the lucrative business of interior

210
See especially Auslander, Taste and Power, pp. 86-98.

211
Natacha Coquery, “Fashion, Business, Diffusion: An Upholsterer’s Shop in Eighteenth-Century
Paris,” translated by Kathryn Norberg and Dena Goodman, in Goodman and Norberg, eds., Furnishing
the Eighteenth Century, pp. 63-77. The 1777 Almanach du Dauphin described upholsterers in the
following way: “The upholsterers are Merchants who buy, produce, and sell all kinds of tapestries and
other furnishings,” as cited in Coquery, “Fashion, Business, Diffusion,” p. 63. Coquery explains how
in the context of great specialization and division of labor, the work of the upholsterer “was only
possible with the help of numerous artisans and merchants.” Merchants often worked together and
“’paid’ one another by reducing their running debt.” See Coquery, “Fashion, Business, Diffusion,” p.
72. Through tight commercial activities and powerful networking, they did not interfere with each
other’s work.

212
See Jean Feray, Architecture intérieure et décoration en France, des origines à 1875 (Paris: Berger-
Levrault, Caisse nationale des monuments historiques et des sites, 1988), p 329. Feray explains how
carpentry workshops surviving the Revolution, including that of Georges Jacob, became institutions
responsible for “everything necessary to for refurnishing official buildings.”

104
decorating, which, especially in the aftermath of the whole-scale reconstruction of
Paris during the Second Empire, was a necessity to many middle and upper-class
Parisians who had changed homes.
213
If no one can ascertain the exact date when
interior decoration as a practice was born, or the interior decorator as a professional
officially christened, one thing appears to be clear: by the end of the nineteenth
century the existence of interior decorating as a professional activity could not be
contested.
The overlap of professions and trades, along with their duties and
responsibilities had always been seen in a negative light, both at the time and in more
recent scholarly volumes.
214
In the nineteenth century, the responsibilities of
upholsterers versus those of architects and, respectively, of cabinet-makers were

213
Under the reign of Napoléon III, Paris witnessed large-scale works of modernization, which
included the re-building of entire streets and the construction of entirely new boulevards, the
arrangement of public parks, and the creation of a modern sewage system. The way Paris looks today
is largely defined by this mid-nineteenth-century urban aesthetic.

214
Stefan Muthesius makes a similar argument in “Communications between Traders, Users and
Artists: The Growth of German Language Serial Publications on Domestic Interior Decoration in the
Later Nineteenth Century,” Journal of Design History 18, no. 1 (2005), p. 18. He explains how
modernist art history so far has maintained a theory of deterioration in the decorative arts, from the
early years of the nineteenth century onwards. For him, one of the reasons for this alleged deterioration
“was held to be precisely the new industrialization and commercialization, which, by definition,
included new methods of communication. Conversely, the allegedly consistent quality of all work
before 1830-40 was due to the state of pre-industrialization and pre-commercialization and thus pre-
communication.” Indeed, industrialization, commercialization and mass reproduction, or
communication, have been seen as the three inter-related forces, which, together, brought down the
quality of the decorative arts throughout the nineteenth century. Many are those who have treated the
whole of the nineteenth century and its artistic accomplishments as eclectic, unresourceful, and prone
to copying the past outright. See especially Saisselin, The Bourgeois and the Bibelot. A similar view
has been held with regards to the decorative arts in Britain, where the Arts and Crafts movement has
traditionally been seen as the hero that saved the day from the “ghastliness of Victorian taste.” See
Peter Stansky’s review of Lara Kriegel’s Grand Designs: Labor, Empire, and the Museum in Victorian
Culture (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2007), in H-Albion (2008), which explains this
position. With Kriegel and other recent publications such as Cohen’s Household Gods, Stansky sees a
revisionist movement settling in, which emphasizes continuity over rupture, and which attempts to
show “that nineteenth-century taste was not as benighted as one might have thought.”

105
constant sources of contention and debate among the various parties involved as well
as with the public at large. The contributions of “non-specialists” to the “specialized”
arts of upholstery, furniture-making, and architecture were often derided, to the extent
that that the importance of the field of interior decoration itself (understood as an
amalgamation of these various specialist trades at once) was diminished and its
existence as a coherent profession obscured until much later in the century. Architects
and cabinet-makers derided the contribution of upholsterers in the field of interior
decorating, arguing that upholsterers had no knowledge beyond the positioning of
drapes; while the latter constantly denigrated the former two based on architects’ and
cabinet-makers’ inexperience with fabrics and the latter’s arrangement within interior
settings.
215
Yet all of these professional groups provided decorating services and
competed against each other for the right to claim the activity of interior decorating
within their professional sub-groups.
216


215
From auctioneers (commissaries-priseurs), now in charge of selling both old and new objects at
once, and cabinet-makers (ébénistes), who also took charge of upholstery, to owners of curiosity shops
and architects, who proposed similar services, not few were those involved in the business of interior
decorating. See Deville, Recueil de status, pp. 399-401. The upholsterer Jules Deville explained how
young architects desiring to put all the finishing touches related to a specific commission, furnishings
included, should be reminded that their rigorous mathematical studies were in opposition to the special
skills required to physically manipulate fabrics, to arbitrate disputes between economical mothers and
fashion-oriented daughters, or to understand, when establishing prices, that an outline for a specific
decorative item would weigh more in the price of a finished product than the sum of all materials put
together to form it. All issues considered, upholsterers were in a better position to judge the best
materials, best prices, and best models for any piece of furniture or drapery in an interior. For more
information on Deville, see Bonnet, “Deville, Jules.”

216
If anybody could be a decorator, the first interior decorators had been the architects. DeJean argues
that the first architect to work in the field of interior decoration was Charles Le Brun, when he became
associated with the Gobelins Manufactory, the official supplier of the Crown’s furnishings since 1667.
See DeJean, The Age of Comfort, p. 104: “From then on, the Gobelins had the capacity to produce
every kind of decorative object. Le Brun thus became the first architect to design furniture and to
oversee every aspect of its production, and the Gobelins began to produce the first furniture taken
seriously enough to be documented.” Also see Auslander, Taste and Power, p. 91. Indeed, all-

106

throughout the nineteenth century, architects deplored their long-lost right to be the sole designers of
buildings, exteriors and interiors included. Bemoaning architects’ gradual conversion into “specialists”
dedicated primarily to the construction and balancing of buildings, the architect, designer, founder of
the illustrated magazine L’Art pour tous, and art director at the famous nineteenth-century silverware
manufactory the Maison Christofle, Émile Auguste Reiber (1826-1893) reminded of architects’
multiple responsibilities the century before. By referencing the career of Juste Aurèle Meissonnier
(1695-1750), he declared the nineteenth-century architect to be the direct inheritor of the eighteenth-
century architectural practice that had seen the architect responsible for all products of the industrial
and the decorative arts, including piers and mirrors (general decoration), ceilings and panels
(decorative painting), frames and edges (ornament), as well as chairs, tables, sofas, mirrors and clocks
(furniture).See Émile Auguste Reiber, “Ensemble de décorations intérieures. Salon et cabinet par J.A.
Meissonnier,” in L’Art pour tous 2, no. 43 (1862), pp. 170-171. Following Reiber’s tenets, two years
later, César Daly, the famous architect and founder of the extremely successful periodical Revue
générale de l'architecture et des travaux publics, urged his coworkers to conceive the furnishings of a
house as fixed appendices to the larger building. He suggested that the different decorative elements
that traditionally surmounted the fireplace as accessories be an integral part of that fireplace, which
itself was to be part of the general architectural ensemble. See César Daly, L'Architecture privée au
XIXme siècle sous Napoléon III: Nouvelles maisons de Paris et des environs, vol. 1 (Paris: A. Morel et
Cie, 1864), p. 14. Indeed, as scholars have noted, in a well-off private household of the nineteenth
century, the architect often was the appointed director of artistic operations. He designed the building
and also took care of its interior aspect - furniture, draperies, windows, and table utensils included. See
especially Nouvel-Kammerer, Le Mobilier Français, p. 16. Examples include Félix Duban’s
decorative ensemble for the Salle de Minèrve at the Château de Dampierre meant to host the duc de
Luynes’ collection of antiques, Jules Février’s (1842-ca. 1910) interior ensembles for the private
mansion of the banker Émile Gaillard, collector and aficionado of the Renaissance, and Pierre
Manguin’s work for the Marquise de Païva. Manguin, for example, imagined every single element for
the marquise de Païva’s home and provided drawings for the different decorative objects it included. In
most of the cases, he addressed himself directly to producers for their fabrication. Thus, the paintings
he ordered from the Maison Grand at Lyon, the curtains for the drawing-room from the Maison
Lefébure, and the furniture from the Maison Kneib. For more information on Manguin’s work see
Victor Champier, “Une visite à l'Hôtel Païva. La décoration sous le Second Empire,” extrait de la
Revue des Arts décoratifs (Paris: s.d.), pp. 20-21. For Duban’s work at Dampierre, see Gabet, Le
Décorateur et l’amateur d’art, p. 11. For Février’s work at the Hôtel Gaillard see Jean-Louis
Gaillemin, “Hôtel Gaillard: un classement attendu,” Connaissance des arts (April 2000). Furniture
producers also presented complete furnishing ensembles, which included not just furniture per se, but
also the wall-hangings, window-curtains, mirrors, stuccowork, and wall paneling. See Nouvel, Le
Mobilier français, p. 19. Also see Jules Diéterle and Digby Wyatt, “Ouvrages de tapissier et de
décorateur,” in Michel Chevalier, ed., Exposition Universelle de 1867 à Paris: Rapports du Jury
International (Paris: Imprimérie et librairie administratives de Paul Dupont, 1867), p. 7. The Maison
Mazaroz, Ribaillier et Cie, famous producers of Renaissance-style furniture, is a fitting example. By
1870, not only did it produce furniture made in most styles, but it also promised to match the furniture
with walls drawn in appropriate fabrics, thus assuming the traditional role of the upholsterer. See
Turgan, “Fabrique d'ameublements en bois massif,” pp. 194-195. By 1880s, it became a matter of pride
for a furniture business to admit that everything that was related to the interior decoration of a house
was directly produced by their workshops and did not require any outside contributions. The 1884
commercial catalog of the famous furniture producers Damon et Cie, successors of Krieger, expressed
exactly this pride when it stated that everything related to a complete installation was produced in the
house rather than commissioned from auxiliary factories. See Établissements Krieger et Damon & Cie,
Catalogue commercial (Paris: s.n., [1884]), from the collection of the Bibliothèque des arts décoratifs,
p. 2.

107
Indeed, one could almost say that not until the formulation of Art Nouveau,
which has until recently been considered the preeminent aesthetic movement in the
decorative arts of the nineteenth century, was the interior decorator as a professional
recognized.
217
Writing about the group L’Art dans tout active especially between
1896 and 1901 at La Galerie des Artistes Modernes, the art historian Rossella
Froissart Pezone explains how “in terms of the arts of interior décor, the relationship
between the artist and a gallery owner was just beginning to be conceived as was that
between an artist and a producer.”
218
So not until the establishment of art galleries
such as Siegfried Bing’s L’Art Nouveau (1895), André Marty’s L’Artisan moderne or
Julius Meier-Graefe’s La Maison Moderne (1899) did artists come together as interior
decorators. This view follows very closely the opinion of critics from the nineteenth
century, who wrote about the decorative arts and deplored the desire to imitate the
past and blamed the supremacy of historicism in interior decoration on the
inexperience of the different decorators at work, on their lack of cohesiveness as a
group, as well as on the coexistence of as many opinions and practices as the number
of those desiring to create fashionable interiors. All of these evils were seen to
culminate later in the century with the success of the widely popular furnishing
sections of the newly-developed grands magasins – where the clerk himself assumed

217
With Siegfried Bing, towards the end of the century, the art dealer and the dealer in antiques also
became an interior decorator. For example, the Maison Carlhian et Beaumetz, originally established in
Paris in 1867 as import-export house also provided interior decorating services to an upper-class,
cosmopolitan clientele. See Vincent Bouvet, “La Continuité du grand goût: La Maison Carlhian ou le
Louis XVI moderne,” Monuments historiques 195 (March 1995).

218
Rossella Froissart Pezone, L’Art dans tout: Les arts décoratifs en France et l’utopie d’un art
nouveau (Paris: CNRS, 2004), pp. 68-69.

108
the role of interior decorator.
219
Yet a closer look at the professional life of such early
decorators as the upholsterer Jules Verdellet will show that they already had the
mechanisms established which allowed later aesthetic movements of the interior such
as Art Nouveau or L’Art dans tout to exist in the first place.
Because the general aesthetic of the nineteenth-century art of interior
decoration favored a profusion of drapery and heavy ornamentation, French
bourgeois interiors from the time have been associated until now with what has
degradedly been called the reign of the upholsterer (la régne du tapissier).
220
The
upholsterer was faulted for this preference and blamed for encouraging the taste for
over-decoration – a situation which, according to present-day scholars, could only
lead to eclectic and mismatched interiors.
221
Yet nothing could be further from truth.

219
The buyer, portrayed by Deville as constantly moving around and not interested in acquiring a set
of furnishings that would last forever, preferred low-cost furniture that could be easily replaced with
each changing fashion. See Deville, Recueil de status, p. 399. The department store clerk, young, blunt
flatterer, and master at chitchat, was present to save the day and always managed to sell his wares
despite his ignorance of the clients’ interiors or his cluelessness about matters of style. See Deville,
Recueil de status, p. 400. The original quote reads: “Le marchand d'étoffe est presque toujours
représenté par un jeune homme, beau causeur, bon vendeur, mais qui ne sait pas quelle est la différence
des styles, qui confond le Louis XVI avec le seizième siècle, qui ne connaît pas l'appartement pour
lequel est destinée l'étoffe demandée, qui a toujours un article soi-disant exceptionnel, flatteur sur le
comptoir, mais laissant des regrets lorsqu'il est employé.”

220
The modernist critic Sigfried Giedion faulted the upholsterer with debasing the cabinetmaker’s
craft: “his [the upholsterer’s] peculiar function began around 1800 with profuse curtains, crossdraped
at the windows (croisée) and hanging on the walls. Later, under the Restoration, he also took
possession of the furniture. At his hands chair and sofa became bulky pieces of upholstery.” Sigfried
Giedion, Mechanization Takes Command: A Contribution to Anonymous History, revised edition
(London, 1969), p. 364, as cited in Massey, Chair, p. 104. Giedion also asserted that that, under the
upholsterer’s influence, “furniture was being camouflaged as cushions.” See Massey, Chair, p. 105.
The profusion of upholstery and cloth in nineteenth-century homes has also been linked to a feminine
influence in interior decoration, whose tastes have been regarded as closer to nature than culture. See
Massey, Chair, p. 109. From here, Massey continues to explain that “the role of the upholsterer had
been transformed into that of the interior decorator by the early twentieth century, a professional role
pioneered and populated by women.” See Massey, Chair, p. 109.

221
DeJean, The Age of Comfort, p. 164.

109
The upholsterer never acted in a vacuum, and he never influenced his
contemporaries’ taste in decoration solely on his own. He was part and parcel of his
time, just one piece in the larger puzzle formed by all those who claimed the right to
being called decorators – be they architects, painters, illustrators, or furniture-makers
by training. It was against this cultural background and in relation to such other
professions that the upholsterer had to re-define his work and himself - not least as an
interior decorator.
Jules Verdellet was a founder of and professor at the École moderne du
tapissier [The Modern School for the Upholsterer], a founding member of the Comité
du patronage des apprentis tapissiers [Committee for the Support of Apprentice-
Upholsterers], and author of the well-received Upholsterer’s Geometrical Manual
[Manuel géométrique du tapissier] of 1851, a publication approved and supported by
the Chambre syndicale des tapissiers de la ville de Paris that received an honorable
mention at the Exposition universelle of 1855.
222
As such, Verdellet was dedicated to
the advancement of his profession through education. An upholsterer-draftsman
[tapissier-dessinateur], as he often called himself, Verdellet owned an interior
decorating and upholstery business in Paris, at 8, rue St-Claude in the Marais.
223
But


222
Jules Verdellet, Manuel géométrique du tapissier, second edition, extended and revised (Paris: A.
Morel et Cie, Libraires-éditeurs, 1864). Together with MM. Chardon, Pelletier Ternisien, Valette, Bel
and Pitou, Verdellet was a founding member of the Comité du patronage des apprentis tapissiers. See
Deville, Recueil de status, p. 387. The Comité du patronage des apprentis tapissiers was established in
1872.

223
In 1878, “Jules Verdelet” appeared in the Annuaire-Almanach du commerce... (Didot-Bottin) under
the section of “dessinateurs industriels” at 8, St-Claude, in the Marais. See the Annuaire-Almanach du
commerce... (Didot-Bottin) (Paris: Chez Firmin Didot Frères, Fils et Cie, Imprimeurs-Libraires de

110
unlike other upholsterers of his time, who have left archives of workshop drawings
and watercolors behind, Verdellet’s contribution to the field of interior decoration and
design resurfaces only through the publications that he produced during his
lifetime.
224

Originally published between 1871 and 1874, L’Art pratique du tapissier [The
Practical Art of the Upholsterer] promised its readers a “comprehensive course in
decoration” through interior decorating schemes that the author himself had seriously
studied from the point of view of taste, proportion, and style, and which were thus
guaranteed to bring good results.
225
Published in five series of twelve lithographed
plates each, with an explanatory text accompanying every image, the Practical Art of
the Upholsterer occupied an interesting position between a trade manual, which
offered practical advice to those involved in the upholstering profession, on the one
hand, and an album of interior designs intended for aesthetic appreciation on the
other. A set of twelve images cost ten francs upon subscription, and twelve after
publication as a final volume.
226
Alternatively, one could also acquire individual

l’Institut, 1878). The address at 8, St-Claude in the Marais is also listed in L’Art pratique du tapissier.
See Jules Verdellet, “Avertissement,” L’Art pratique du tapissier no. 2 (Paris, Liège, and Berlin:
Charles Claesen, 1882), p. 6.

224
The author has not been able to locate any archival material pertaining to Jules Verdellet. By
contrast, Jules Deville, the president of the Chambre syndicale des tapissiers in 1874, left an
impressive archive of drawings and watercolors currently housed by the Bibliothèque nationale de
France, site Richelieu, department des estampes et photographies.

225
Jules Verdellet, “Avant-propos,” L'Art pratique du tapissier, fourth edition (Paris, Liège and Berlin:
Charles Claesen, 1882-1883), p. 6.

226
See the advertisement for this publication in the collection of the Bibliothèque Nationale de France,
site Richelieu, département des estampes et photographies [Verdellet, Jules. Recueil. SNR – 3]. In ca.

111
images (either in color or in black and white) at one franc apiece.
227
By offering so
many possibilities for purchase, Jules Verdellet opened his illustrations to as large a
public as possible. The text, however, was only available to members of the
profession.
228
By limiting the written information to his fellow practitioners, Verdellet
emphasized the importance of a re-specialization of the trades, whose operations were
becoming indistinguishable at the time. He, therefore, denied architects, cabinet-
makers, and other practitioners of interior decorating as well as the general public,
access to the “secrets” of his profession. Not versed in practical matters of upholstery
and interior design, the general public only needed to see the artistic side of the
business embodied in the gigantesque drawings, and was kept in the dark regarding
production methods and trade secrets. It did not need to know which proposed
designs were practical and which were not, or how and if they could be executed.
Leafing through The Practical Art of the Upholsterer as the nineteenth-
century general reader, deprived of the textual explanations, is a process that
emphasizes the physicality of the work over its informational content. Each
illustration included featured the expression “J. Verdellet del” in the lower left-hand
corner. Displaying an entrepreneurial spirit, the upholsterer thus proved to be a good
advocate for his business, which bore his name. But by carefully marking each of the
designs as his own, Verdellet also attempted to establish himself as an artist, who

1884, the cost of the entire publication, presented as one volume of sixty plates, accompanied by one
volume of text was sixty francs. See Claesen, Catalogue général.

227
Ibid.

228
Verdellet, L'Art pratique du tapissier no. 1, fourth edition (Paris: Charles Claesen, 1882), p. 14.

112
always signed his work. Through such means, as well as through the use of color and
the inclusion of perspectival views of complete interiors, the publication would have
worked as an individual work of art in the vein of albums of interior decoration
designs published by other artists at the time. For example, in plates such as that of a
dining-room upholstered in green, Verdellet strove to give an accurate description of
a private interior in its three-dimensionality, floor, ceiling, and the garden-
conservatory seen through a large, curtained window included. (Fig. 2.2) While
carefully rendering the reflection of curtains in the mirror on the left-hand-side wall
and the shadows produced by those objects in the way of the primary light-source that
entered the space from the window on the left, Verdellet made use of artistic license
when curving the ceiling to suggest interrupted space both on the left and on the right.
By using a format reminiscent of ancient scrolls, the upholsterer emphasized the
value of his design as a work of art. The publication thus functioned as an
advertisement for Verdellet as an artist in the first place and for his business in the
second.
Indeed, the upholsterer was not the only professional who could design
complete interior architectural ensembles. So could the architect, the painter, the
furniture-maker, or any illustrator of interiors for that matter, which was a serious
concern to Verdellet. In the Introduction to his publication he explained this
“alarming” situation. He pointed out how only a few upholsterers had published their
interior compositions as examples that could be successfully followed by other

113
practitioners of this trade.
229
If other skilled artists had contributed illustrations of
room ensembles to serial publications similar to his own, their lack of practical
knowledge within the field of upholstery would have rendered those designs not only
unsuitable for real settings but also impossible to produce.
230
Brilliant as they may be,
illustrations of interior decorating schemes by non-upholsterers did not qualify, in
Verdellet’s mind, as didactic materials for newcomers to the field. Besides ignoring
issues of a practical nature such as the correct rendering of appropriate proportions
and lines in the creation of draperies, these artists also lacked the much-needed
experience of what was possible versus what was impractical in terms of interior
decoration. As Verdellet explained, since the reign of Louis-Philippe and the triumph
of smaller-scale bourgeois interiors, simpler decorative styles have come into vogue.
This change in style had permitted other industries to apply themselves to the work of
the upholsterer and almost removed the latter from his own profession by working at
cheaper rates.
231
It was this state of affairs that the author, well-known among his co-
workers as fully dedicated to his profession, attempted to redress. Paris needed
publications of interior decoration designs produced by good upholsterers for very
practical reasons: the very survival of the business of the tapissier as a profession was
at stake. The upholsterer thus attempted to single out the particularities of his

229
Verdellet, “Avant-Propos,” p. 5.

230
Ibid.

231
Verdellet, “Avant-Propos,” p. 7.

114
profession, while adopting the same methods of display (the complete interior) that
other design professions did.
Indeed, throughout the nineteenth century, the trade in interior decoration
designs had gained such common currency that even in the workshops of the most
famous upholstering businesses in Paris, including that of Jules Deville (1825-1890),
the President of the Chambre syndicale de tapissiers beginning with 1874, such
images were collected in albums as sources of inspiration.
232
Furthermore, an entirely
new profession had developed that specialized in producing visual models and
patterns of furnishing for practitioners of interior decorating. Volumes were put out
with examples of what one might do rather than what one had already done in interior
decorating. Pattern books were essential indicators of new tastes and fashions, and
they often disclosed new inventions in the field of interior decorating.
233
These
illustrations served as “meta designs” that showed the numerous ways of the ideal, if
not always the possible, in interior decoration. Their authors were not “makers” of
interiors, but only inventors of models for them. As such, their designs often had no
practical application, being executed for paper rather than for a real environment.
Artists seriously competed against each other in designing such schemes, taking pride

232
Jules Deville’s workshop was situated at 12, rue Gaillon. See the archival collection of the
Bibliothèque nationale de France, site Richelieu, département des estampes et des photographies (Jules
Deville, Recueils de dessins originaux d'ameublement moderne (1850-1880) par J. Deville, tapissier,
Aquarelles, 1850-1880). Deville, for example, owned copies after illustrations by Charles Percier, as
well as various newspaper clippings of medieval furniture items and other decorative objects.

233
Athanase Garnier-Audiger, Manuel du tapissier, décorateur, et marchand de meubles: contenant les
principes de l’art du tapissier, les instructions nécessaires pour choisir et employer les matières
premières, décorer et meubler les appartements, composer un ameublement complet, conserver les
mobiliers, etc., etc. (Paris: A la Librairie encyclopédique de Roret, 1830), p. 95.

115
in their talent to produce artistic models of interiors that were displayed on par with
other artworks at official, government-sponsored exhibitions such as the annual
Salons.
Many such images of interiors or interior design fittings were offered in
several packages. They could be procured by subscription, but could also be
purchased individually, not least through journals such as Désiré Guilmard’s (1810-
ca. 1885) Le Garde-meuble.
234
Run by the “most prolific Parisian publisher of high-
quality designs for furniture and upholstery,” Le Garde-meuble anciene et moderne
(later Le Garde-meuble) appeared bimonthly between 1838 and 1935.
235
Every issue
consisted of nine plates, three illustrating seating furniture, three depicting case
furniture (i.e. non-seating objects such as cabinets, chests, tables, etc.) and three
picturing bed and window hangings.
236
Available in black and white for fifty
centimes or in color for eighty, plates from Le Garde-meuble were priced to be within
the reach of individuals with a relatively modest income, including workers involved

234
Désiré Guilmard was the founder and publisher of the illustrated journal Le Garde-meuble ancien et
moderne. Guilmard edited and delineated most plates of Le Garde-meuble between ca. 1839 and the
mid-1880s, a moment when he relinquished the editorship of the journal to E. Maincent. For more
information on Guilmard’s career see Cynthia Van Allen Schaffner, “Désiré Guilmard: Le Garde-
meuble, ancien et moderne, 1839-1935. A Smithsonian Institution Libraries Digital Edition,”
http://www.sil.si.edu/DigitalCollections/Art-Design/garde-meuble/intro.htm (visited March 14, 2011)
and Olivia Tolede, “Guilmard, Désiré,” in Philippe Sénéchal and Claire Barbillon, eds., Dictionnaire
critique des historiens de l’art actifs en France de la Révolution à la Première Guerre Mondiale, Paris,
INHA, http://www.inha.fr/spip.php?article2356 (visited April 1, 2011). As Van Allen Schaffner
explains, “because his name appears as the ‘delineator’ of the majority of the furniture plates in Le
Garde-meuble, many historians presumed he was a furniture designer. However, he is not known to
have had a furniture shop, nor are there any signed examples of his furniture extant.”

235
See Simon Jervis, The Penguin Dictionary of Design and Designers (Harmondsworth, Middlesex,
and New York, N.Y.: Penguin Books, 1984), p. 217, and Van Allen Schaffner, “Désiré Guilmard.”
236
Van Allen Schaffner, “Désiré Guilmard.”

116
in upholstery and cabinet-making.
237
As Cynthia Van Allen Schaffner explains,
“intended as a practical guide for decorators, architects, cabinetmakers, upholsterers
and designers, Le Garde-meuble lithographs contained such clear and copious detail
that craftsmen could easily develop working drawings from the images.”
238

Non-seating furniture pieces in different styles were proposed as models and
juxtaposed with seating furniture in just as many styles. Thus, if in 1856, Guilmard
proposed a Renaissance-styled buffet for the dining-room (Fig. 2.3), one year later he
proposed a set of a Renaissance-styled chair and armchair for the drawing-room.
239

(Fig. 2.4) In 1860, he introduced a different set of Renaissance seating furniture for
the drawing-room, slightly different in design and color scheme from the 1857 one.
(Fig. 2.5) Designers could pick and choose between the various models offered,

237
Depending on how much money one wanted to spend, the buyer had several options: one could
subscribe to all nine images and thus receive a total of fifty-four illustrations of sièges, meubles and
tentures per year for the price of twenty-two francs and fifty cents in black and white or thirty-six
francs in color; one could subscribe to two out of the three categories mentioned above (either sièges
and meubles, or meubles and tentures, or sièges and tentures) and receive six out of the nine images at
the price of fifteen francs in black and white or, respectively twenty-four in color; or, one could
subscribe to just one category and receive eighteen images for seven francs fifty in black and white or
twelve francs in color. In addition, most of the plates could also be purchased individually. If each
individual sheet cost fifty cents in black and white, it cost eighty cents if hand-colored. See Désiré
Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble ancien et moderne: Journal d'ameublement, publiant régulièrement par
an 54 planches. Publication utile aux ébénistes, tapissiers, commissionnaires, architectes, etc.
Ameublements moyens, ameublements simples, ameublements riches, in the collection of the
Bibliothèque Forney. If one purchased a subscription for all three categories or for just two, one also
had the option to buying just half a year’s worth of illustrations at a time, rather than a full year’s. The
price then was exactly half of what a year’s worth would have been. No complete version of all the
designs brought to light by this particular journal exists. Therefore, especially due to the different
possibilities of acquiring plates, dating each of the images exactly is a problem. The Bibliothèque
Forney holds albums that comprise all three main categories (furniture, chairs, and draperies).

238
Van Allen Schaffner, “Désiré Guilmard.”

239
As Van Allen Schaffner explains, although the different livraisons of the Garde-meuble ancien et
moderne or the later Garde-meuble were not dated, one can infer the year of the publication from the
exact number of each issue.

117
combine them in as many ways as they liked and thus offer their clients the
possibility of conjuring a coherent decorative ensemble.
The Garde-meuble also offered designs for furniture pieces or decorative
schemes intended for the same room. For example, in 1862, the journal presented a
design for a drawing-room window curtain in the Louis XVI style in the tentures
section (Fig. 2.6) next to a Louis XVI drawing-room sofa (Fig. 2.7) as well as a Louis
XVI chair and armchair in the sièges section, in the same color scheme. (Fig. 2.8)
Thus, even though Guilmard is not known to have produced any furniture pieces or
decorated any rooms himself, through such published designs he became “an
influential purveyor of taste.”
240
He also was in direct contact with various producers
of fabrics such as the Maison Constant Bouhours et Juigné, Juigné Successeur, from
where he took his inspiration. He used their fabric designs in his compositions, and
then gave them appropriate credit throughout his publication. Everyone benefited
from such an alliance: Guilmard by managing to offer something new with every
issue, and Juigné by advertising his shop’s name in a mass-produced and widely read
design publication. On a very practical level, such plates could be quoted directly by
decorators, who could then propose them to their own clients. They could also be
used as a resource for patterns of interiors by a non-specialist audience, who sought
examples of how to decorate their own rooms.
In addition to serving as patterns in the creation of real interiors, illustrations
of furniture items or interior decorating schemes such as those published by the

240
Van Allen Schaffner, “Désiré Guilmard.”

118
Garde-meuble might also have constituted collectible items for people of lesser
means.
241
Given the number of the plates that were painstakingly hand-colored, a
significant audience must have existed for them. It does not seem unreasonable,
therefore, to suggest that such hand-colored illustrations might have embellished the
walls of the lower middle-classes, much as posters later would.
242
This observation
becomes even more pertinent when one observes how illustrations of complete rooms
appear more often in the journal’s pages starting in the 1850s next to isolated
decorative fixtures. Also in 1862, a Boudoir Interior [Intérieure de boudoir] could be
purchased in black and white (Fig. 2.9) or in color (Fig. 2.10). Unlike those images
that took a single object of furniture or a specific decorative scheme isolated in space
as their main focus, illustrations of complete interiors were more similar to paintings
and watercolors in that they placed the furniture designs in space. By adding color to
the mix, such hand-colored illustrations attempted to imitate paintings and
watercolors, offering their readers a semblance of art for only eighty cents apiece.

241
Design historian Jeremy Aynsley explains how design magazines of the late nineteenth and early
twentieth centuries secured their readership by adding higher-quality paper and a more striking visual
vocabulary to the simpler forms of design illustrations available in the more prolific cheaper press, thus
encouraging these items’ collection. Aynsley refers to a much later time-period, namely the last decade
of the nineteenth century in Germany, but his argument stands for such French publications as
Guilmard’s already in the mid-nineteenth century. See Jeremy Aynsley, “Graphic Change: Design
Change: Magazines for the Domestic Interior, 1890-1930,” Journal of Design History 18, no. 1 (2005),
p. 45.

242
On an illustration of how framed posters inhabited the Parisian walls akin to paintings, see Vanessa
R. Schwartz, It’s so French!: Hollywood, Paris, and the Making of Cosmopolitan Film Culture
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2007), p. 33. Laura Kalba, “Outside the Lines: The Production
and Consumption of Color in Nineteenth-Century France” (Ph.D. thesis, University of Southern
California, 2008), also points out how posters were compared to paintings and collected as works of
art, especially in Chapter 5, “Chromolithography: Color in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction.”

119
Indeed, watercolors and paintings of private interiors had constituted a
lucrative art form throughout the entire Western world during the first half of the
nineteenth century.
243
As architectural historian Charles Rice explains, at the moment
of its emergence in the nineteenth century, the “interior” existed both as a real, three-
dimensional space and as an image, whether the latter was “a two-dimensional
representation such as a painting, a print in a portfolio of decoration, or a flat
background that could conjure up an interior as a theatrical scene.”
244
As Rice asserts,
the beginning of the nineteenth century marked a moment when “interior views were
painted and drawn as ends in themselves, as a specific genre” in their own right.
245

While rooms had been represented in paintings and frescoes ever since Antiquity,
they had mainly served as backdrops to portraits or the main events rendered rather
than as independent subject-matter. In the mid-eighteenth century, interior views
began to emerge in pattern books and architectural drawings representing interior
spaces. Yet perspectival views of interiors only emerged in the first half of the
nineteenth century. Eearlier, representations of rooms came in the shape of single
wall-elevations or “developed surface” drawings, with the empty space in the middle

243
For a history of illustrations of real private interiors, see Thornton, Authentic Decor, Gere,
Nineteenth-Century Decoration, and, more recently, Gail S. Davidson, Floramae McCarron-Cates, and
Charlotte Gere, House Proud: Nineteenth-Century Watercolor Interiors from the Thaw Collection
(New York: Cooper-Hewitt, National Design Museum, 2008).

244
Rice, The Emergence of the Interior, p. 2. According to Rice, it was only from the beginning of the
nineteenth century that the interior came to mean “the inside of a building or a room, especially in
reference to the artistic effect” as well as “a picture or representation of the inside of a building or
room.”

245
Ibid., p. 20. Also see Thornton, Authentic Decor, Gere, Nineteenth-Century Decoration, and Gail S.
Davidson, “The Inside Story: Prints and Drawings of Interiors in Cooper-Hewitt’s Collection,” in
Davidson, McCarron-Cates, and Gere, House Proud.

120
of the room “left un-described and untouched.”
246
A “developed surface” drawing, as
the architectural historian Robin Evans explained, was a clever way of “turning
architecture inside-out, so that internal rather than external elevations were shown.”
247

Usually with all four walls of the room portrayed on one page like an open box, often
including the floor and the ceiling patterns, such drawings allowed for the furniture
and other decorative items to be portrayed in situ, all at the same time.
248

Nevertheless, any objects that might have left the walls and occupied the center-space
of the room could not be portrayed.
249
With the nineteenth century, when modes of
sociability changed, and furniture left the walls and was re-grouped in the middle of
rooms, new representational techniques for the furnished interior were developed.
250

As Evans aptly put it, the room became “a miniature internal landscape,” with
furniture and figures occupying and inhabiting it.
251
Perspectival watercolors of

246
Robin Evans, “The Developed Surface: An Inquiry into the Brief Life of an Eighteenth Century
Drawing Technique,” in 9H, no. 8 (1989), p. 134.

247
Ibid., p. 126.

248
Evans explained the layout of the various wall-surfaces onto the single sheet: “Sometimes the four
walls arranged on a single sheet, sometimes supplemented with a carpet design, a floor pattern or an
outline plan, sometimes all six surfaces illustrated in separate drawings, the developed surface and its
derivatives offered an opportunity to saturate interior surfaces with ornament. […]Drapes, furnishings,
fittings, wall coverings, plaster-work, floor and carpet all beg to be drawn. They are not extras to be
added after the essential architectural shell has been constructed, not foreign items later to be imported
into a ready made cavity. They are the things that the developed surface invites the draughtman to
describe.” See Evans, “The Developed Surface,” p. 131 and p. 134.

249
Evans, indeed, confirms that furnishings in the eighteenth century occupied peripheral spaces, and
usually bordered the walls. See Evans, “The Developed Surface,” p. 137.

250
Ibid., p. 140.

251
Ibid., p. 142.

121
interiors followed suite, to the extent that portraying the interior became an art form
in and of itself.
Commissioned from various artists by the rich and the famous or painted by
them, such interior views were intended to record private homes, usually for their
owners’ viewing pleasure. Watercolors such as Carl Friedrich Wilhelm Klose’s
Etruscan Room in the Palace at Potsdam from the early 1840s were common at the
time. (Fig. 2.11) Featuring a Greek-inspired decorating scheme, with walls and
ceiling bearing terra-cotta figures on a stark-black background akin to those found on
the monumental antique vases on the left, the Potsdam City Palace room reveals the
artist paying as much attention to the furniture, decorative objects and architectural
scheme observed inside as to the city-space bustling with movement outside.
252

Klose’s watercolor is, in fact, one of the few visual documents left of the Old Market
in Potsdam, with the Garrison Church, destroyed during the 1945 bombings, in the
background. The Potsdam City Palace, itself bombed and burned down during an
Allied raid, also survives through this watercolor as a reflection in the mirror on the
left. Whether the cityscapes painted by Klose were drawn to scale and represented
accurate depictions of the real views glimpsed through the windows of the Potsdam
Palace’s Etruscan Room and not merely idealized sights of the city’s central market
where the Palace was indeed located is a different story. In fact, as Charles Rice

252
Although called Etruscan, the decorative scheme reproduced by Klose was clearly Greek. Mario
Praz explains how, in the last years of the eighteenth century and the early years of the nineteenth
century, “what was really Greek was called Etruscan, and what was Pompeiian was attributed to
Herculaneum.” See Praz, An Illustrated History, p. 263. According to Praz, the apartments in the
Palace of Potsdam were decorated by Ludwig Friedrich Catel, and were inspired by French models.
See Praz, An Illustrated History, p. 266.

122
argues, “visual representations of interiors are not simply transparent to spatial
referents, even if such spatial referents exist.”
253
The rays of light pictured flowing
from a second window on the left onto the decorative tiles on the floor and further up
on the opposite wall add to the theatricality of the interior architectural ensemble and
should no doubt be attributed to artistic license. However, the way the mirror reflects
the view outside the widow of the Palace’s stables – with the building’s architectural
details and the people and animals strolling in front of it – along with the furniture
located by that window, the details of the magnificent curtain decorating it, and the
Greek vase bordering the mirror’s edge, suggests that a lot of thought went into
establishing the various elements of the composition. City-scapes or garden-scapes
glimpsed through the window played a prominent role in the visual representation of
the three-dimensional interiors they complemented. Clearly important when an
“accurate” rendition of an existing interior was attempted, such views aided in the
identification of a room as belonging to a specific building or a specific urban or
natural setting. In England, Queen Victoria is known to have had a penchant for such
well-accomplished views of interiors. Throughout her life, the Queen commissioned
and collected watercolor interiors of her royal palaces as well as of the palaces she
visited.
254
In addition, she also received such painted interiors from other states’

253
Rice, The Emergence of the Interior, p. 19.

254
See Davidson, “The Inside Story,” p. 9.

123
leaders, including Friedrich Wilhelm IV of Prussia and King Louis-Philippe of
France.
255

In France, too, artists such as Charles Giraud (1819-1892) commemorated
private residences such as that of Princesse Mathilde, a cousin of Napoléon III, in the
rue de Courcelles in Paris. In his watercolor of ca. 1867, Le Salon de la princesse
Mathilde, Giraud portrayed the interior in question with a wealth of details,
furnishings, decorative items, and tableware included. (Fig. 2.12) Some of Giraud’s
images were later published in such illustrated journals as L’Illustration, thus opening
up the private spaces of aristocracy to the middle classes.
256

If throughout the eighteenth century, the most common delineation of an
interior in a pattern book had been the single wall elevation, perspectival views
became more common in the first half of the nineteenth century – undoubtedly also
due to the influence of watercolors rendering interior views.
257
In conjunction with a
plan of the room, single wall elevations had given a correct impression for what the
trades were doing, either as instructions to craftsmen, presentations to clients, or as
advertisements of designers’ skills for future commissions.
258
However, such designs

255
Louis-Philippe presented Victoria with a set of views of his summer residence at the Château d’Eu
by Eugène Lami (1800-1890), as a souvenir of her visit there in 1843. Ibid., p. 9 and p. 28. For more
information on Eugène Lami, see Emmanuel Bénézit, Dictionary of Artists, vol. 8 (Paris: Éditions
Gründ, 2006), pp. 361-363.

256
For interior views of the aristocracy and the wealthy in popular journals, see Sophie Ernst, “La
Représentation des intérieurs mondains dans L’Illustration, Journal universel sous le Second Empire,”
Mémoire d’étude, 1ère année de 2ème cycle (Paris: Ecole du Louvre, 2009).

257
Davidson, “The Inside Story,” p. 9.

258
See Muthesius, “Communications between Traders, Users and Artists,” p. 13. And Davidson, “The
Inside Story,” p. 9.

124
became inadequate for a proper spatial impression.
259
Rather than solely presenting
wall elevations, as their eighteenth-century counterparts had done, starting with the
1830s and even before the invention of photography, decorators attempted to offer
all-surrounding impressions of an interior through their designs – thus following the
tradition popularized in the nineteenth century by paintings and watercolors.
260
For
example, Claude Aimé Chenavard’s Recueil des dessins de tapis, tapisseries et autres
objets d'ameublement (1833-1835) already included such plates as his Décoration
intérieure, dans le Genre Egyptien in mid-1830s (Fig. 2.13), where both front and
side-walls were depicted so as to offer a box-like theatrical effect of the represented
room.
261
Whether made for the trades or for the general public, nineteenth-century
delineations of interiors employed visual techniques similar to those usually reserved
for the so-called “high arts.”
Painted interiors no doubt had an influence on the numerous interior
decoration designs published in illustrated journals like Guilmard’s Garde-meuble.


259
Ibid.

260
Muthesius, however, sees this as originating no sooner than the 1870s: “It was photography which
revolutionized the depiction of the complete interior during the 1870s. Wide-angled, well-delineated
and yet picturesquely lit representations became abundant, helped also by advances in reproduction
methods, although for publication the photographs were entirely redrawn.”

261
See Claude Aimé Chenavard, Recueil des dessins de tapis, tapisseries et autres objets
d'ameublement exécutés dans la manufacture de MM. Chenavard à Paris (Paris: E. Leconte, [1833-
1835]). For more information on Chenavard, see Marie-Hélène Calvignac, “Claude Aimé Chenavard,
décorateur et ornemaniste,” Histoire de l'art 16 (1991), pp. 41-53. Calvignac explains how Chenavard
came from a Lyon-based family that had originally specialized in silk ad wallpaper during the
eighteenth century. Around 1793, they opened a factory specializing in upholstery, carpets and all sorts
of furnishing fabrics in Paris. So Chenavard himself, although always trying to adopt the title of
architecte or architecte-dessinateur, actually came from a background in the business of upholstery.

125
Other publications similar to Guilmard’s, especially Victor Quétin’s Le Magasin de
meubles [The Furniture Shop], also offered both black and white and color images
depending on the purchaser’s preferences.
262
Thus, an illustration of a fifteenth-
century gothic dining-room could be acquired in black and white (Fig. 2.14) or in
color (Fig. 2.15), as an individual image or as part of a collection of images published
in the same installment.
263
Quétin also issued his designs as part of larger albums,
which combined several illustrations from his journal in one publication, thus
positioning his fifteenth-century gothic dining-room right next to a fifteenth-century
gothic bedroom that had originally been published in an earlier installment of the
same journal.
264
(Fig. 2.16) A decorator, or a prospective client, could thus potentially
see how an entire house could be put together in the historic style of his or her choice.
Like Guilmard, Quétin seems to have produced designs for interior ensembles
without having actually created any himself. But regardless of their status as
illustrators, both Quétin and Guilmard, I would like to propose, had a direct impact on

262
For more information on Le Magasin de meubles, published roughly between 1865 and 1895, see
Aurélie Erlich, “La Révue Le Magasin de meubles et la famille Quétin, ˮ Mémoire Master II,
Université Paris Sorbonne Paris IV (2008), which I have not had the chance to read. A conversation
with Mlle. Erlich has revealed that this journal, lead in turn by both Victor Quétin (the father) and
Victor-Léon Quétin (the son) appeared in installments, with one section dedicated to seating furniture,
another to larger furniture items, and a third to interior decoration (meaning window or door
treatments, as well as full interiors). Like the plates from Guilmard’s Le Garde-meuble, the
illustrations from Quétin’s Le Magasin de meubles could also be purchased by subscription, either in
color or in black and white, either in installments or one at a time.

263
See Victor-Léon Quétin, Le Magasin de meubles, 85
th
installment, plate no. 680.

264
See Victor-Léon Quétin, Le Magasin de meubles (no. 25): Tentures fantaisie, contenant 60
planches (Paris: V.L. Quétin, no date). This publication included sixty images of interior decoration
designs, all in color, taken from various installments of the original journal publication, Le Magasin de
meubles. Thus, one can see how the Salle à manger gothique XVme siècle had originally been
published in the 85
th
installment of Le Magasin de meubles, while the Chambre à coucher gothique
XVme siècle in the 84
th
installment of the same journal.

126
the production processes of nineteenth-century French upholsterers at the time.
Significantly, their publications habituated a public larger than the one accustomed to
visiting the Salons and other public exhibitions where paintings or watercolors of
private interiors would have been shown with delineating a three-dimensional spatial
arrangement for a specific room. Like the public at large, then, upholsterers began to
think about their métier in an all-rounded, complete way, which included the
combination and matching of all elements of an interior and not just upholstery, and
which was reflected in the illustrated projects that they showed their clients.
Nineteenth-century upholsterers adopted similar methods of spatial composition as
well as the black and white versus color display. Thus, they not only responded to the
market in illustrated interiors that flourished at the time but also fought over the right
to the decoration of the private interior, a right that was claimed by several
professions at the same time.
Indeed, among the workshop drawings of the upholsterers Jules Deville,
Henry Penon, and C. Degas, one could find illustrations of beds, (Fig. 2.17) window
hangings (Fig. 2.18), as well as wall elevations (Figs. 2.19), which, when glued
together, would have suggested an interior architectural ensemble in its entirety,
complete with ceiling and four walls, akin to the “developed surfaces” of the
eighteenth century.
265
(Fig. 2.20) But in addition to such more traditional

265
Degas was one of the members of the Comité de patronage des apprentis tapissiers in 1875. He had
his workshop set up as C. Degas & Cie, décors et ameublements at 56, rue de Provençe and as C.
Degas at 65-67 Boulevard Haussmann. His works included a salon for the grand duc Georges de
Meklembourg. See the special collections archives of the Getty Research Institute in Los Angeles for
C. Degas & Cie (Firm), C. Degas & Cie designs for interior decoration, ca. 1870-1910. For archival
materials from Jules Deville’s workshop, see Jules Deville, Recueils des dessins originaux

127
representations, one could also find illustrations of perspectival views of rooms
depicted from a specific vantage-point (Fig. 2.21), with all objects of furniture and
decoration included, and not just those spatially attached to the walls.
Inspired by earlier views of interiors, as testified by the archival material left
by the Maison Deville, and, possibly, by photography, Deville also used more
abstruse angles to foreground his compositions. He imagined such daring spatial
constructions as orthogonal room structures (Fig. 2.22) or round spatial arrangements,
where straight lines were completely replaced by curves. (Fig. 2.23) To successfully
attract customers’ attention, he also employed daring cuts of the frame which literally
divided the architectural space in half and revealed just a small portion of a room
(Fig. 2.24), a spatial arrangement that echoed the painting style of the historic period
which had inspired this decorative composition. When comparing Deville’s
watercolor of ca. 1850-1880 to Jan van Eycks’ 1434 Northern Renaissance painting
The Arnolfini Portrait (Fig. 2.25), one can see how the upholsterer had drawn his
inspiration from the marriage bed depicted by van Eyck on the right-hand-side of his
painting.
Generally intended for the eyes of those who had commissioned them, such
workshop drawings were meant to secure and please clients, and convince them of the
suitability of a specific project. As art historian Olivier Gabet explains, “in a field
where fabrication reached an elevated cost due to the type of materials used … no

d’ameublement moderne (1850-1880) [HD-110] at the Bibliothèque nationale, Département des
estampes et des photographies. The Henry Penon archives are shared between the Musée des arts
décoratifs, Paris, and the Bibliothèque de l’INHA.

128
chances could be taken. […] Drawing had to conquer, amuse, astonish, bring the
enthusiastic support of the one who would accept the costs.”
266
While the specific
purpose of each and every one of these workshop images cannot be easily determined
in the absence of more detailed archives, it is clear at least that they reflect the way
upholsterers conceived of proper representation of three-dimensional space at the
time. Occasionally, as was the case with some of Deville’s workshop drawings,
especially the one illustrating an alcoved bed embedded in red and green upholstery,
(Fig. 2.26) such designs were used as models for patterns of interior decoration
designs that were subsequently published in books such as Deville’s Dictionnaire du
tapissier from the late 1870s.
267
(Fig. 2.27) Regardless of their ultimate destination,
such workshop images illustrate a growing concern on the part of upholsterers to
represent their projects in a manner similar to the other media that portrayed the
private interior at the time, including paintings, watercolors, illustrated journals, and
photographs. Upholsterers were thus also responding to the larger visual culture of
the interior that surrounded them, while influencing it at the same time. In order to
attract the patronage of specific clients, upholsterers had to compete visually in a
market that was already saturated with images of interior decoration designs - be they
published in printed form in illustrated journals such as those published by Désiré
Guilmard or Victor-Léon Quétin, or shown as decorative projects in the architecture
section of Salons.

266
See Gabet, “Le XIX Siècle,” p. 15.

267
See Deville, Dictionnaire du tapissier.

129
Returning to Verdellet’s The Practical Art of the Upholsterer, one can now
see how it was yet another organ for the presentation of interiors as a form of art.
Such compositions were an exercise through which the upholsterer could present his
artistic mastery on paper by creating interior landscape views for an audience
interested in the aesthetic appeal that such images had to offer. The boundaries
between the various media contributing to the interior decoration of a room were
blurred, to the extent that at times one did not know whether he or she was looking at
a representation of a painting, of a real view outside the window, a painted window
blind, or of a mirror and its reflection of the world outside. Decorators capitalized on
these effects, desirous as they were to show their artistic skills through published
interior decoration designs to as large of an audience as possible.
In the nineteenth century, decorating one’s window with fabrics arranged over
painted shades was common practice.
268
These shades, or blinds, were usually made
of Holland linen and were often adorned with landscapes, which were very popular at
the time.
269
For cheaper versions, wallpaper pasted onto the linen would have been
used.
270
As part of a Pompeian window-curtain design, the upholsterer-decorator
Jules Verdellet imagined the semblance of an antique ruin outside (Fig. 2.28), just as
he created the semblance of North Africa and the river Nile as part of an Egyptian

268
Samuel J. Dornsife, “Design Sources for Nineteenth-Century Window Hangings,” Winterthur
Portfolio 10 (1975), p. 71.

269
Jenny Gibbs, Curtains and Draperies: History, Design, Inspiration (Woodstock, N.Y: Overlook
Press, 1994), p. 146.

270
Ibid.

130
window-curtain design. (Fig. 2.29) As one would very likely not have been able to
see palm trees outside a Parisian window, neither would one have seen antique ruins
looming large outside one’s home. An 1857 “Dining-Room Window” from Désiré
Guilmard’s Garde-meuble illustrates how shades worked. (Fig. 2.30) Once pulled
down completely, the blinds not only displayed the painted decorative pattern in its
entirety but also created the illusion of a real landscape beyond the window.
Jules Verdellet also played with mirrors and reflections in his work in addition
to painted blinds. He thus further confused the relationship between real outdoor
space and imagined space. Verdellet so erased the boundaries between the various
materials employed that in his design for two windows and a fireplace, one cannot
distinguish whether the landscape behind the clock and candleholders on the
mantelpiece is painted or is merely a mirrored reflection from some other window
positioned within an unrepresented wall of the room. (Fig. 2.31) Given the
landscape’s positioning on top of the fireplace, it is unlikely that what one looks at is
a view beyond a window, and yet this is precisely the effect that Verdellet seems to
have been after in positioning a half-drawn blind right on top of the view in question.
As he so carefully had imagined complete designs on paper, his images suggested, so
this decorator-designer would achieve marvels in one’s home if one bought his
services
Finally, the inclusion of the view beyond the window, especially in the work
of Jules Verdellet, might also have been part of an attempt to flatter potential
customers by alluding to their elevated social status through the landscape outdoors.

131
Thus, for example, in his “Window and Curtains in the Genre Chiffonage” Jules
Verdellet treated his viewer as an upper-class audience by referencing a large estate
and landscaped garden as the view beyond the window of those interested in
acquiring such a decorative scheme. (Fig. 2.32)
The inclusion of an image not practical enough to be applied to the décor of a
private interior such as the Salon-serre ou véranda (Fig. 2.1), in a serial publication
that was chiefly designed for other upholsterers, and which professed to show only
practical designs already tried out and guaranteed to bring good results, is an
indication of the contradictions and uncertainties that haunted the life of a nineteenth-
century French upholsterers such as Jules Verdellet. That Verdellet chose to include
such images in his treatise shows his concern not to lag behind other decorators of his
time, whose drawings, not concerned with practicality, proposed much more fanciful
creations than his own, and which were mostly meant to be admired on paper rather
than re-created in existing middle-class environments. By opening the plates of his
publication to the general public and choosing such a well-established publishing
house as La Librairie spéciale des arts industriels et décoratifs of Charles Claesen to
distribute his work, Verdellet also reached an audience beyond Paris, and even
France, all the way to Belgium, Spain, Germany and Britain at once.
271
The general
public, not versed in practical matters of interior design, only needed to see the
artistic side of the profession and was kept in the dark regarding production methods
and trade secrets. It did not need to know which of the proposed designs were

271
For more information on Claesen’s distribution channels see Chapter 3 of this dissertation.

132
practical and which ones were not, or, even more so, how, or if, they could be
executed.
Moreover, displaying an entrepreneurial spirit, the upholsterer also proved to
be a good advocate for his business, whose name (the same as his own) accompanied
all illustrations in L’Art pratique du tapissier. While promoting his publishing venture
as one that would be professionally useful to his colleagues, by signing his name
underneath each image, Verdellet was also a shrewd businessman, who attempted to
secure more commissions for himself as a decorator. If it did not publicly advertise
the work of other members of the trade (whose work was acknowledged in the written
text, but not in the more public images), L’Art pratique du tapissier did advertise
Verdellet’s work both with the community of upholsterers and, indirectly, though his
signature, with the public at large. Verdellet’s publication also advertised the
upholsterer’s office as a place where drawings of interiors could be penned at the
specific request of individual subscribers.
272
The Maison Verdellet, located at 8, rue
St-Claude in the Marais, offered to physically execute any and all of the designs
published in the journal and more, vouching to serve as an intermediary between
clients and furniture manufacturers (since furniture was not usually manufactured in
the house).
273
It thus provided furniture in addition to all the other decorative

272
See Verdellet, L’Art pratique du tapissier no. 2 (1882), p. 6: “Nous saisissons cette occasion pour
rappeler à nos souscripteurs que nous sommes toujours à leur disposition pour dessins spéciaux plans
ou devis.”

273
Verdellet mentions his services at this address in L’Art pratique du tapissier, but he also lists his
services under the section of “industrial draftsmen” (dessinateurs industriels) in the 1878 Annuaire-
Almanach du commerce of Didot-Bottin.

133
elements specific to upholstery, including draperies, pelmets, lambrequins, and other
accessories.
274
In addition to advertising these services, the Maison Verdellet also
popularized the fact that it was hiring apprentices (apprentis-tapissiers) eager to learn
the art of upholstery.
275
In a post-guild world, the pages of Verdellet’s L’Art pratique
du tapissier functioned as a search-organ for young applicants and served as a
veritable advertising card directed to the group of professionals that had access to this
information.
When it came to his fellow tradesmen, Verdellet urged upholsterers to send
him news of any innovations in their field, vouching to give each and every one of
them due credit by publishing their names and addresses next to their contributions.
He assured them that “the plates sold separately will have no text” and that the text
“can only be consulted by practitioners.”
276
In this way, Verdellet encouraged
communication and cooperation within the community of upholsterers. By opening
up a forum for the presentation and discussion of the innovative processes developed

274
Verdellet, L’Art pratique du tapissier no. 2 (1882), p. 6: “De plus, nous nous empresserions de faire
sur commande des patrons des coupes de nos modèles ou de tout autre dessin sur mesures données.
Nous nous chargeons également de tous les travaux d'art de notre industrie tels que draperies,
cantonnières, lambrequins de style et application avec ou sans fourniture d'accessoires. Enfin,
moyennant une commission relative à l'importance de la demande, la Maison VERDELLET, 8, rue
Saint-Claude, sera l'intermédiaire de ses souscripteurs pour tous renseignements ou commandes
concernant l'ameublement.”

275
Ibid., p. 6: “La Maison a toujours deux ou trois élèves adultes pour la coupe des étoffes: nous
engageons les personnes qui désirent y placer un jeune homme à le faire inscrire d'avance.”

276
Verdellet, “Avant-Propos,” p. 14. The original quote reads: “Nous ne faisons pas de réclames dans
le cadre de cette publication mais nous nous faisons un devoir d'ouvrir nos pages de séries à tout
fabricant qui nous montrera des types convenables pour tout ce qui concerne la décoration intérieure
des appartements. Nous offrons la même facilité à nos confrères pour les compositions qu'ils
voudraient publier. [...] Nous publierons les noms et l'adresse de ces fabricants dans le texte qui ne peut
être consulté que par des praticiens, attendu que les planches vendues séparément n'auront pas de
texte.”

134
by members of his professional community, he attempted to assure the latter’s
progress and re-specialization in the future. And by limiting the published text to
members of the profession only, Verdellet also avoided open advertising and
eliminated the fear of competition among members of the same trade, thus uniting the
different upholsterers instead of separating them over financial gain. Ironically
enough, the only advertising that his publication ever did, since all illustrations were
marked with “J. Verdellet del,” was for Verdellet’s own work.
Verdellet’s admission of his limits, in the text accompanying the Salon-serre
ou veranda is illuminating: while known to offer practical designs that would help
advance the profession at large, Verdellet was not less respectable or trustworthy to
his colleagues when he proposed imaginary designs, as long as he openly
acknowledged this fact immediately. Just as much as he was concerned with showing
his artistic skills to the general public by promoting fantastic designs with low
chances of execution, he was strict about keeping up his reputation and remaining
truthful to his goal of advancing the profession of the decorator to even higher
grounds. Unlike the general public, Verdellet informed the community of upholsterers
when he went beyond his limits. They also learned about new means of reproducing
traditional materials and designs so that fashionable effects could be achieved at a
cheaper price, as well as about techniques for creating new dispositions in
conventional historic styles, which could be brought to fit modern apartments and

135
modern exigencies of comfort.
277
That Verdellet managed to address both sides at
once – the interior decorator and the customer – is testimony to his deep
understanding of the needs of the interior decorator at the time, namely that he had to
be inventive to attract customers, yet had simultaneously to be fully-based within a
professional tradition.
Upholsterers such as Jules Verdellet, therefore, were emphasizing in the latter
half of the nineteenth century a re-specialization within their profession, which would
help counter the generalization of decorative arts following the termination of guilds
in the aftermath of the French Revolution. For Verdellet, however, re-specialization
did not mean that room settings (complete with furniture, wall paper, window
designs, etc.) should be out of his profession’s league. Rather than reinforcing an
image more suitable to the eighteenth-century upholsterer, as the person responsible
mainly for cutting and sewing materials, hanging draperies and upholstering the
furniture in a room, Verdellet saw the upholsterer as directly responsible for every
object and item of a room’s decoration. Through designs such as a “A View of a
Bedroom in the Gothic Style” (Intérior partie perspective d'un intérieur de chambre
style gothique) (Fig. 2.33), Verdellet illustrated this view and proposed that the choice
of wall papers, window curtains, bed hangings, chair coverings, and carpets be the
responsibility of the upholsterer, along with that of furniture and the decoration of the

277
Verdellet introduced in the first series of his publication the newly-invented process of
mechanically-attaching decorative applications to a type of material named the Velours Savonnerie.
Invented by MM. Berchoud and Guerreau, this process allowed the application of ornamental patterns
on any material and thus helped create decorative effects which could previously have been achieved
only with the tapisseries d'Aubusson or the broderies. See Verdellet, “Planche IX: Lit de coin,
portières, simple et double,” in L’Art pratique du tapissier, no.1, p. 36.

136
painted ceiling. Indeed, L’Art pratique du tapissier favored ensembles throughout and
sometimes provided patterns for all the walls of a room at once, the layout of
furniture included, as in the “Plan and Elevation of a Bedroom of a Young Lady”
(Plan et elévation d’une chambre de jeune demoiselle). (Fig. 2.34) Here, Verdellet
improved upon the tradition of the “developed surface” drawing, used in the
eighteenth century by cabinet-makers and upholsterers to present to their clients how
an interior would look. Proposing blue as a unifying aesthetic force within the room,
Verdellet defined specialization also as having the knowledge to combine the
disparate elements in a room around a common theme. Specialization within the
profession of the upholsterer, therefore, did not exclude the development of the
interior decorator as a professional. Rather, the situation was more complex: one
triggered the other.
The quest for professionalization and re-specialization went hand-in-hand
with publications put forth by and for upholsterers especially in the latter half of the
nineteenth century. In their books, one can notice how the most important tenet of Art
Nouveau, that all elements of an interior needed to cohere in order to form a unifying
whole, was put into practice well before the end of the century and the opening of
Siegfried Bing’s gallery L’Art Nouveau. While Art Nouveau has traditionally been
seen as coming out of a renewed interest in architecture, several professional groups
have contributed to the development of the “total work of art” idea throughout the
nineteenth century. Architects and cabinet-makers were significant groups; but so
were upholsterers.

137
Indeed, the figure of the upholsterer as interior decorator had crystallized
earlier in the century, to the extent that by 1830 a practical manual for upholsterers
listed the following qualities as essential to a successful tapissier: good taste and
elegance, experience as skilled producer, versatile decorator and elegant inventor, as
well as talent in choosing and buying all manner of decorative objects (new or old) to
accompany his designed interiors, including bronzes, crystals, prints, beds and
sofas.
278
Yet at no other time was his role as a decorator more contested by other
professional groups than in the second half of the nineteenth century. If the
upholsterer complained about the inadequacy of those with different training from his
own to achieve the same decorative effects that he himself could offer, his suitability
to provide the very same services was, as we have seen, also contested by members of
other professional/interest groups. As a response, the community of Parisian
tapissiers joined forces and formed several associations designed to protect their
rights, define their responsibilities, and secure their personal and professional future
through pensions and education. Through these different organizations, Parisian
upholsterers organized their workforce and established new hierarchies within their
profession, redefining themselves and their work for members of their own group as
well as for those from the outside.

278
See Athanase Garnier-Audiger, Manuel du tapissier, décorateur, et marchand de meubles:
contenant les principes de l’art du tapissier: les instructions nécessaires pour choisir et employer les
matières premières, décorer et meubler les appartemens, composer un ameublement complet,
conserver les mobiliers, etc., etc. (Paris: Librarie encyclopédique de Roret, 1830), p. 2.

138
The Chambre syndicale des tapissiers de la ville de Paris (1848) functioned
as the overarching organization that included all members of the community of
upholsterers, be they maîtres tapissiers (chief upholsterers), ouvriers tapissiers
(upholsterers), or apprentis tapissiers (apprentice upholsterers). To this overarching
organization were added a Chambre syndicale des maîtres tapissiers de la ville de
Paris et du département de la Seine in 1848, a Chambre syndicale des ouvriers
tapissiers in 1868, as well as a Comité de patronage des apprentis tapissiers in
1872.
279
More significantly, the profession of the upholsterer as interior decorator was
also taught through books and prints even more than through syndicates and schools.
Starting in the 1830s and especially throughout the Second Empire and the Third
Republic, numerous trade manuals were published that offered those in the business
of upholstery advice of a very practical nature.
280
Representatives and practitioners of
the profession like Jules Verdellet were eager to share their skills with other members
of their professional community. A treatise such as Verdellet’s Manuel géométrique
du tapissier, originally published in 1851, was published in two other revised editions
by 1877 and, in 1862, was translated as the Geometrisches Hand- und Lehrbuch für

279
For a list of all these associations, see Deville, Recueil de status. The Chambre syndicale des
ouvriers tapissiers was dissolved in 1870.

280
Under the Second Empire and the Third Republic, new editions of early treatises put out in the
1830s were also published. See for example Garnier-Audiger, Manuel du tapissier, décorateur, et
marchand de meubles; Athanase Garnier-Audiger, Nouveau manuel complet du tapissier, décorateur
et marchand de meubles (Paris: Manuels-Roret, 1869); and H. Lacroix, Manuels-Roret: Nouveau
manuel complet du tapissier décorateur par H. Lacroix, professeur technique (Paris: Encyclopédie-
Roret; L. Mulo, Libraire-éditeur, 1901), which adopted the same format as Garnier-Audiger’s treatise,
was based on the same information, and sometimes even included identical advice.

139
Tapezierer und Dekorateure in German.
281
New editions were a direct response to the
growing demand for specialization and education within the field. Their translation
into foreign languages marked the importance of France in the domain of interior
decoration and the recognition of French upholsterers’ work as worthy of emulation.
Such manuals were intended to work like primers, which introduced novices
to such traditional responsibilities and concerns of the tapissiers like the materials
employed, their manipulation and arrangement in a room, as well as the selection of
the other decorative elements and furniture objects that should form an interior
ensemble. Athanase Garnier-Audiger’s Manuel du tapissier, décorateur, et marchand
de meubels, first published in 1830, included practical considerations such as the
instruments the upholsterer had to be familiar with, the different types and qualities of
materials available for draperies, furniture, bed coverings, etc., as well as their prices
and ideal location inside the home.
282
Garnier-Audiger explained: “knowing how to
work with raw materials is not enough; one must also distinguish between different
qualities and various prices.” If the inexperienced worker, he continued, “uses the
same quality material for everything, the intelligent upholsterer weighs in the

281
Verdellet, Manuel géométrique du tapissier. Also see Jules Verdellet, Manuel géométrique du
tapissier, second edition revised and extended (Paris: A. Morel et Cie, Libraires-éditeurs, 1864), Jules
Verdellet, Manuel géométrique du tapissier, third edition revised and extended (Paris: Chez l'auteur et
chez les principaux éditeurs, 1877), and Jules Verdellet, Geometrisches Hand- und Lehrbuch für
Tapezierer und Dekorateure (Berlin: Riegel, Beelitz, 1862).

282
Garnier-Audiger, Manuel du tapissier, décorateur, et marchand de meubles (1830 and 1869);
Lacroix, Manuels-Roret: Nouveau manuel complet du tapissier décorateur (1901). Some of the
materials presented were wool, duvet, and eiderdown for the creation of bed covers; damask (less
resistant, but often preferred once furniture was not required to last for several generations) versus
satin for the upholstering of furniture; woolen cloth, cassimere and printed canvas for cheaper
furniture.

140
weariness of each room and proportions the quality and duration of materials
accordingly.”
283
Financial considerations received pride of place, as the clièntele that
employed the tapissier would not necessarily have been of a wealthy background.
Such very practical advice as how to properly stretch the silk before using it was
offered, so that one could prevent it from shrinking and diminishing in quantity. And
wallpaper was proposed as a successful alternative to silks or other types of expensive
fabrics.
284

But since upholsterers as decorators also were in charge of all other matters of
interior decoration per se, from kitchen-related items to clocks, treatises often
included an entire chapter on “Objects foreign to the art of the upholsterer but part of
a complete furniture ensemble in general.”
285
This chapter gave specific information
about the different types of wood employed in the making of various furniture pieces,
the various kinds of marbles or the different types of bronzes available on the market,
etc. So the upholsterer was also educated in the art of cabinet-making and art dealing,
and his role as an interior decorator established by these books.
More importantly, what such manuals also agreed on was that the upholsterer
was absolutely required to be knowledgeable about all kinds of decorating styles. He
had to know which furniture pieces matched what kind of paneling or decorative

283
Ibid., p. 10

284
Ibid., p. 79.

285
See Garnier-Audiger, Manuel du tapissier, décorateur, et marchand de meubles, p. 117: “au lieu de
se borner à faire des siéges et des couchers, à couper, assembler et poser des étoffes, ils se chargent
mainetenant de tout, depuis la batterie de cuisine jusqu'à l'horlogerie.”

141
items, as well as have a general sense of how everything should go together and be
combined so as to form an aesthetically-pleasing interior architectural setting of
historic or exotic origins.
286
For this very same reason, he had to know how a sofa in
the Louis XV style differed from Louis XVI sofa or a sofa in the Empire style. He
also had to know what type of furniture was required for each room, depending on the
latter’s function and its owners’ inclinations. Trade manuals offered all this
information as well as advice on the possible disposition of the various furniture
pieces within the individual rooms. A later edition of a manual from the 1830s
illustrated the proper arrangement of a salon in the Louis XVI style: a sofa, several
chairs and armchairs, a small bench in front of the fireplace, pillows on the sofa and
the armchairs, a credence made in golden wood surmounted by a mirror, a piano, a
marquetry display cabinet surmounted by a lamp, silk curtains garnished with
trimmings made in the same style, a bronze sculpture and two Sèvres vases as
fireplace decorations, a draped easel for decorating, paintings on the walls, an
Oriental carpet, etc., composed the various furnishings of such a room.
287
(Fig. 2.35)
Every element of decoration was carefully rendered in the illustration that
accompanied this textual description, as one important part of the whole decorative
ensemble. The upholsterer, then, upon reading this manual, learned what the specific
furniture for a drawing-room should be in addition to how the Louis XVI style

286
Lacroix, Manuels-Roret, p. 182: “Les meubles devront être en harmonie et de même style que
l'architecture.”

287
Ibid., pp. 190-192.

142
looked. He could then apply this knowledge in his practice and offer his clients
accurate historic interiors within modern comfort.
Jules Verdellet’s Manuel géométrique du tapissier (1851) offered more
practical advice. In addition to such down-to-earth explanations about how to take the
measurements for a curtain that was to be installed, how to cut it appropriately and
make sure that it was correctly and artistically fitted, Verdellet also offered a crash-
course in elementary geometry, projections, mathematical formulae and linear
perspective – all necessary skills for an upholsterer in charge of the arrangement and
correct proportioning of an interior décor. While seemingly extraneous to the
occupation of a tapissier, applied mathematics was essential in the successful
completion of any project. Geometry was especially required in the correct rendering
on paper of interior decoration plans at a specific scale; and, indeed, while architects
had been familiar with geometrical projections, upholsterers have traditionally
focused on fabrics rather than on proportioning the whole ensemble of a room. Not
anymore. A skilled upholsterer in the nineteenth century needed to create such plans
and to make them easily readable to his associates or members of his professional
community. Even when creating models was not the upholsterer’s primary goal, he at
least had to be able to read such plans and interpret them correctly so as to
successfully bring the decorative effects to life.
288


288
See Verdellet, Manuel géométrique du tapissier (1877), p. 6. A similar argument had been
presented by Thomas Sheraton in his ground-breaking study of geometry and perspective for the use of
cabinet-makers and upholsterers. See Thomas Sheraton, The Cabinet-Maker and Upholsterer’s
Drawing-Book, third edition (London and Dublin: T. Bensley and J. Archer, 1802).

143
Published under the auspices of the Chambres syndicale des tapissiers de
Paris and praised at the 1855 Paris Exposition universelle, where it received an
honorable mention, Verdellet’s Manuel géométrique du tapissier was proclaimed an
indispensible read for all those involved in the profession. Its importance was
measured by the success achieved by Verdellet’s students when applying their
professor’s methods in their work.
289
Indeed, since the book’s first edition in 1851,
Verdellet had taught about thirty courses, all for free, which were attended by both
maîtres tapissiers and their workers alike.
290
He must have used the publication as
some sort of manual, since, at the price of fifty francs, the book would not have been
within the means of any regular member of the profession.
291

At a more modest price, G. Félix Lenoir’s Traité théorique et pratique du
tapissier (1885) offered similar advice to Verdellet’s much earlier Manuel
Géométrique du Tapissier.
292
Intended as a very practical guide for the decoration of
rooms, Lenoir’s Treatise offered advice about how drawings should be made to scale
in order to serve as suitable guides to transposing a design from paper to a full, three-

289
See A. Maigret’s introduction, p. 7: “l'auteur a à se féliciter du succès de son oeuvre et des
excellents résultats obtenus par ses nombreux élèves par l'application des principes qu'il continue de
publier.”

290
Ibid., p. 12.

291
For price info, see the adverstisement from the collection of the Bibliothèque Nationale de France,
site Richelieu, dept. des Estampes et Photographies. [Verdellet, Jules. Recueil. SNR – 3]. In 1875, an
ouvrier tapissier made about six francs and a half to seven francs a day. See Deville, Recueil, p. 389.

292
See G. Félix Lenoir, Traité théorique et pratique du tapissier (Paris: Juliot, 1885). In 1887, the
maison d’édition et de librairie Thézard et Cie offered Verdellet’s Manuel géométrique du tapissier at
the price of sixty francs and Lenoir’s Traité théorique et pratique du tapissier at fifty. See Thézard &
Cie, Catalogue de la Librairie d’architecture Thézard et Cie, éditeurs à Dourdan (Seine-et-Oise)
(Dourdan: E. Thézard et Cie, 1887), p. 41 and p. 45.

144
dimensional spatial construction.
293
A prolific designer, whose drawings and
watercolors of interior ensembles received much praise at the different Paris
decorative arts exhibitions and Salons of the Third Republic, Lenoir admitted that “a
slight sketch of an imaginary decoration” is easy to make, but that “a well executed
drawing is necessary if an outline of the exact size of the actual decoration is to be
obtained from it.”
294

Thus, his Treatise explained perspective drawing and showed how an
individual object was to be accurately drawn to scale. (Fig. 2.36) It also included
indications as to how the relations between the different elements of a room and their
proportions could correctly be rendered within the whole-room design. (Fig. 2.37)
Finally, it also explained how the physical particularities of the interior to be
decorated should be noted down on paper so that they could be considered when
creating the proposed decoration. Thus, the rough sketch of a room should include,
each in its proper place, the windows with their frames, the doors and the doorways,
the direction in which the door opened (indicated by dotted lines), as well as the
fireplace, the mantel piece, and the hearth. The wall elevations should be marked, as
well as the lines of the cornices, the height of the doorways and of the chimney

293
See Lenoir, Practical and Theoretical Treatise, p. 15: “Drawings of articles of furniture are usually
made on a scale of 10 centimeters (4 inches) to the metre (39 inches), which makes it easier to enlarge
them to their natural size. This scale is convenient for drawings of a single window, a bed, or couch,
but it is too large for a plan of the side of a room with two or more windows; [...] It is more
advantageous to show a customer a drawing made on a slightly more reduced scale. For plans of the
interiors of houses, rooms, etc., the drawing must always be proportioned to the importance of the
apartment and to the number of articles of furniture it is to contain.”

294
Ibid., p. 11. For more information on Lenoir and his contributions to the different Paris exhibitions,
see Chapter 3.

145
pieces, the windows with their upper and lower sills. Finally, the room had to be
measured diametrically in order to see whether it was a perfect square or not, while
the walls had to be examined in order to see if they were curved in any way. As
Lenoir pointed out, all of these should be carefully marked on paper and become part
of the final design plan.
295
(Fig. 2.38) Thus the upholsterer, as interior designer, was
now expected to be well-versed in matters of perspective and architectural layout,
both of which had previously been the realm of the architect.
Lenoir’s Traité théorique et pratique du tapissier (1885) and its practical
advice were very well received both in France and abroad.
296
Reprinted in 1893, the
treatise was also translated into English and German and commercialized in both
these countries as well as Belgium and the United States via such international
publishing houses as the maison d’édition Charles Claesen.
297
An annex with a table
of conversion from French measurements to British ones serves as proof that such
translations were meant as practical guides to the secrets of French upholstery, which,
through the medium of publication, could become more accessible internationally.
298

Such treatises as Lenoir’s, Garnier-Audigier’s or Verdellet’s introduced the
upholsterer to the practical matters of his trade, while also initiating him in the art of

295
Ibid., pp. 29-30.

296
See Auguste Racinet, “M. Félix Lenoir, dessinateur – dessins d'ameublement,” in Auguste Racinet,
“7e expo. de l'UCAD,” in Revue des arts décoratifs 3 (1882-83), p 184.

297
See Lenoir, Practical and Theoretical Treatise, and G. Félix Lenoir, Die Tapezierdekorationskunst:
Theoretische und Praktische Abhandlungen (Berlin and New York: B. Hessling, 1898). The Belgian
house of Ch. Claesen specialized in industrial and decorative arts and had offices in Paris, Liége,
Berlin and Bruxelles. For more information on Charles Claesen, please refer to Chapter 3.

298
See Lenoir, Practical and Theoretical Treatise.

146
interior decorating. They were accompanied by pattern books, which aimed to
combine similar practical considerations with newly-devised artistic models. Already
by 1830, upholsterer manuals were making reference to pattern books and other such
sources of interior decoration designs as sources of inspiration for designing a
complete interior. The Manuel du tapissier, décorateur et marchand de meuble
explained how, even more than in Paris, where illustrators could easily be hired to
pen a decorative scheme that an upholsterers could then physically recreate within a
private interior, in the provinces one had to rely on published designs. Published
illustrations of decorative schemes were a reliable source of reference for the
upholsterer, especially if the latter had not studied drawing or architecture and
therefore lacked the skills necessary to compose models for room installations on his
own.
299

Although not an upholsterer by training, Lenoir was nevertheless very much
involved in the profession through his publication Le Traité théorique et pratique du
tapissier, as well as through the creation of models for furniture and hangings for
upholsterers, which he had executed under his supervision. Dated 1874 and possibly
shown at the Salon of the same year, where Lenoir contributed works, a wall
elevation for a bedroom contributed to elevating the status of what could also have
been used as a workshop drawing to the status of “fine art.” (Fig. 2.39)
We come thus, full-circle, back to our initial assertion that the French
upholsterer in the latter half of the nineteenth century was a skilled craftsman, a

299
See Garnier-Audiger, Manuel du tapissier, décorateur, et marchand de meubles, p. 94.

147
talented artist, an innovative professional and a shrewd businessman all at once. Jules
Verdellet, despite the little information that survives about him, to the extent that one
does not even know precisely his dates of birth or death, is a figure, who, through his
involvement in the profession, art, and business of the upholsterer as interior
decorator, can help us better illuminate the history of this profession in nineteenth-
century France. While he might not have left traces as impressive as those of such
architects as Félix Duban at Dampierre or Viollet-le-Duc at Pierrefonds, his
involvement with and frequent adoption of media such as pattern books and trade
manuals testify to the essential role these published forms played as vehicles and
sources of inspiration for the profession.
By envisioning themselves as both artists and craftsmen at the same time, both
upholsterers and interior decorators, nineteenth-century upholsterers such as Verdellet
opened up the way to later practitioners of the art of interior decorating as later
defined by members of the Art Nouveau movement. They operated at the intersection
of art and commerce, and attempted to position themselves as interior decorating
professionals on a market that also accommodated architects, cabinet-makers and art
dealers. By understanding the strategies upholsterer-decorators used to promote their
work, we can begin better to understand the history of the decorative arts in the
second half of the nineteenth century and the origins of such derogatory terms as le
goût tapissier.

148

Fig. 2.1: Jules Verdellet, “Drawing-Room-Greenhouse or Conservatory,”
from The Practical Art of the Upholsterer no. 5 (1883)
Fig. 2.2: Jules Verdellet, “Renaissance Dining-Room,” from The
Practical Art of the Upholsterer no. 3 (1882)

149

Fig. 2.4: Désiré Guilmard, “Renaissance Drawing-Room Chair and
Armchair,” from D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble ancien et
moderne: Collection de sièges (1857)
Fig. 2.3: Désiré Guilmard, “Renaissance Dining-Room Buffet,” from D.
Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble ancien et moderne: Collection de meubles (1856)

150

Fig. 2.5: Désiré Guilmard, “Renaissance Drawing-Room Chair and
Armchair,” from D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble ancien et moderne:
Collection de sièges (1860)
Fig. 2.6: Désiré Guilmard, “Drawing-Room Window Curtain
Design, Galerie Louis XVI,” from D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble
ancien et moderne: Collection de tentures (1862)

151

Fig. 2.7: Désiré Guilmard, “Louis XVI Drawing-Room Sofa,” from
D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble ancien et moderne: Collection de
sièges (1862)
Fig. 2.8: Désiré Guilmard, “Louis XVI Drawing-Room Chair and
Armchair,” from D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble ancien et
moderne: Collection de sièges (1862)

152

Fig. 2.9: Désiré Guilmard, “Boudoir Interior,” from D. Guilmard, Le
Garde-meuble ancien et moderne: Collection de tentures (1862)
Fig. 2.10: Désiré Guilmard, “Boudoir Interior,” from D. Guilmard, Le
Garde-meuble ancien et moderne: Collection de tentures (1862)

153

Fig. 2.11: Friedrich Wilhelm Klose, Etruscan Room in the Palace at
Potsdam, watercolor (ca. 1840)
Fig. 2.12: Charles Giraud, Le Salon de la princesse Mathilde,
watercolor (ca. 1867)

154

Fig. 2.13: Claude Aimé Chenevard, “Décoration intérieure, dans le Genre
Egyptien,” from Recueil des dessins de tapis, tapisseries, et autres objets
d’ameublement (ca. 1830)
Fig. 2.14: Victor-Léon Quétin, “Fifteenth-Century Gothic Dining-Room,”
from Le Magasin de meubles 85 (ca. 1865-1895)

155

Fig. 2.15: Victor-Léon Quétin, “Fifteenth-Century Gothic Dining-Room,”
from Le Magasin de meubles no. 25 (s.d.)
Fig. 2.16: Victor-Léon Quétin, “Fifteenth-Century Gothic Bedroom,” from
Le Magasin de meubles no. 25 (s.d.)

156

Fig. 2.18: Jules Deville, “Window Curtain,” watercolor (ca. 1850-1880)
Fig. 2.17: Jules Deville, “Bedroom,” watercolor (ca. 1850-1880)

157

Fig. 2.19: Jules Deville, “Wall Elevation,” watercolor (ca. 1850-1880)
Fig. 2.20: C. Degas & Cie, “Upper-Gallery Drawing-Room,” developed
surface drawing (ca. 1870-1910)

158

Fig. 2.22: Jules Deville, “Bedroom,” watercolor (ca. 1850-1880)
Fig. 2.21: Jules Deville, “Bedroom,” watercolor (ca. 1850-1880)

159

Fig. 2.23: Jules Deville, “Bedroom,” watercolor (ca. 1850-1880)
Fig. 2.24: Jules Deville, “Bedroom,” watercolor (ca. 1850-1880)

160

Fig. 2.25: Jan van Eyck, The Arnolfini Portrait (1434)
Fig. 2.26: Jules Deville, “Bedroom,”
watercolor (ca. 1850-1880)
Fig. 2.27: Jules Deville, “Lit à l’italienne,” from
Dictionnaire du tapissier (1878-1880)

161

Fig. 2.28: Jules Verdellet, “Croisée genre Pompéien,” from The
Practical Art of the Upholsterer no. 3 (1882)
Fig. 2.29: Jules Verdellet, “Croisée style Égyptien,”
from The Practical Art of the Upholsterer no. 4 (1882)

162

Fig. 2.30: Désiré Guilmard, “Croisée de salle à manger,” from D. Guilmard, Le
Garde-meuble ancien et moderne: Collection de tentures (1857)
Fig. 2.31: Jules Verdellet, “Décoration pour n'importe quelle pièce d'un
appartement,” from The Practical Art of the Upholsterer no. 1 (1882)

163

Fig. 2.32: Jules Verdellet, “Croisée et tentures genre chiffonage,” from
The Practical Art of the Upholsterer no. 1 (1882)
Fig. 2.33: Jules Verdellet, “Perspectival View of a Bedroom Interior in
the Gothic Style,” from The Practical Art of the Upholsterer no. 4 (1882)

164

Fig. 2.34: Jules Verdellet, “Plan et elévation d’une chambre de jeune
demoiselle,” from The Practical Art of the Upholsterer no. 2 (1882)
Fig. 2.35: Lacroix, “Grand salon Louis XVI,” from Nouveau manuel
complet du tapissier décorateur (1901)

165

Fig. 2.36: G. Félix Lenoir, “The Horizontal Plane or Ground,” from
Practical and Theoretical Treatise on Decorative Hangings (ca. 1890)
Fig. 2.37: G. Félix Lenoir “Perspective Drawing on Squares or Chess-Board
Pattern,” from Practical and Theoretical Treatise on Decorative Hangings
(ca. 1890)

166

Fig. 2.38: G. Félix Lenoir, “Plan of a Drawing Room – Arrangement of Furniture,”
from Practical and Theoretical Treatise on Decorative Hangings (ca. 1890)
Fig. 2.39: G. Félix Lenoir, “[Bedroom Elevation],” watercolor (1874)

167
Chapter 3:
Commercializing and Aestheticizing the Interior in Visual Form:
Exhibiting Interior Decoration Designs

In 1882, the French decorator G. Félix Lenoir failed to win the silver medal at the
seventh exhibition of the Union centrale des arts décoratifs for his group of drawings
representing interior furnishings. The jury of the exhibition criticized Lenoir’s
decorative projects severely. Characterized by “extravagant draperies, rumpled to
excess,” or so the jury described them, his drawings were regarded as a “work of
compromise,” which, rather than eradicate the public’s taste for lavish decoration,
only encouraged it.
300
Lenoir’s free use of draperies was thus an affront to the
representatives of the Union centrale, the foremost organization at the time dedicated
to the advancement of the decorative arts, whose avowed aim was to liberate modern
interiors from the tyranny of historic styles that usually translated into lavish
ornamentation. But if reprimanded in 1882 for the concessions he had made to the
“taste of the moment” (le goût du moment), seven years later Lenoir was praised for
the very same effects. The international jury of the 1889 Paris Exposition universelle
declared him one of the most significant decorative artists that the furnishing industry

300
Racinet, “M. Félix Lenoir, dessinateur,” p. 184. According to Racinet, Lenoir received a bronze
medal and a rappel de médaille at previous exhibitions organized by the Union centrale. Neither of
these awards could be bestowed a second time. So Lenoir was competing for silver in 1882. The Union
centrale des arts décoratifs was founded in 1882 as a result of the merger of the Union centrale des
beaux-arts appliqués à l’industrie (originally established as the Société du progrès de l’art industriel in
1845) and the Société du musée des arts décoratifs. See Rossella Froissart-Pezone, “L’École à la
recherche d’une identité entre art et industrie (1877-1914),” in Renaud d’Enfert, Rossella Froissart-
Pezone, Ulrich Leben, and Sylvie Martin, Histoire de l'École nationale supérieure des arts décoratifs
(1766-1941) (Paris: École nationale supérieure des arts décoratifs, 2004), p. 11, and Froissart Pezone,
L’Art dans tout, pp. 19-20.

168
had at the time and rewarded him the long-missed silver medal of 1882.
301
What
changed between 1882 and 1889 that enabled the same artist to achieve official
recognition of his work after initial rejection? Or were Lenoir’s “extravagant
draperies” less extravagant merely seven years later?
This chapter examines the intricate relationship between interior decoration
and so-called “high art” in the second half of nineteenth-century France. It does so by
positioning the work of decorators such as G. Félix Lenoir, his teacher, Alexandre-
Eugène Prignot (1822-ca. 1885), and his colleague, Georges Rémon (ca. 1853/54-ca.
1931), within the larger market for interior decoration designs that crystallized in
France starting with the 1850s.
302
Indeed, in addition to watercolors, drawings, and
prints, Lenoir’s display at the 1889 Exposition universelle included plates from the
three pattern books that he had published at his own expense throughout the
preceding decade.
303
Possibly including interior views such as the opulent bedroom
from his 1879 publication titled Décors des fenêtres et des lits, Lenoir’s corpus of

301
Legriel, “Groupe 3: Mobilier et accessories; Classe 18 - Ouvrages du tapissier et du décorateur,” in
Alfred Picard, ed., Rapports du Jury international: Exposition universelle internationale de 1889 à
Paris (Paris: Imprimerie nationale, 1891), 47. Also see G. Félix Lenoir, “Life of the Author,” attached
to the book he donated as a gift to the library of the Union centrale des arts décoratifs in 1908: G.
Félix Lenoir, Décors de fenêtres et de lits, ensembles d'intérieurs et dispositions diverses (Paris: Chez
l’auteur, 1879).

302
For more information on the development of an interest for such interior views see Chapter 2 of this
dissertation. I will use such terms as “designer,” “decorator” and “decorative artist” interchangeably
here, as no consensus existed on the exact denomination of such authors concerned with interior
decoration designs. In this same category, one could place “industrial draftsman” or “industrial artist.”
These professional categories have traditionally been seen as fully separate from those of the “fine
artist” (especially seen as a painter, a sculptor, or an architect).

303
Legriel, “Groupe 3,” p. 32. For an account of the artist’s financial contribution to his publications
see Lenoir, “Life of the Author.”

169
published interior designs stood as testimony to the decorator’s commitment to the
new market for such fantastic interior landscapes.
304
(Fig. 3.1) A high-domed bed
occupying the center of the picture plane offered the decorator the pretext for
illustrating a decorative scheme for the private interior of a wealthy person, dining-
room on the left-hand side (with the dining table and the unmistakable cabinet
intended to display dinnerware) and vestibule on the right, with a magnificent
doorway opening towards an outdoor garden. Yet the fact that in no reasonable
nineteenth-century mansion would the dining-room have led right through to the
bedroom belies the designer’s intentions, suggesting that no practical guidelines
directed his hand.
305
Rather than proposing a viable interior project, Lenoir seemed
more concerned with the rendition of spectacular draperies, which, distributed all-
throughout the picture plane as bed, bay, door and window hangings, take over the
image. The visual effects employed, which relied heavily on the use of drapery for the
creation of three-dimensional space (the room on the right is disclosed as a three-
dimensional unit only through the juxtaposition of two very different sets of draperies
in the upper right-hand corner) reveal the decorator’s desire to represent his artistic
mastery on paper. In this particular instance, Lenoir’s composition of an interior view
was closer to the impression of a painter trained with the École des beaux-arts, eager

304
Lenoir, Décors des fenêtres et des lits, plate no. 50.

305
The layout of a nineteenth-century private mansion or bourgeois apartment usually followed a
private/public scheme, separating private rooms such as the bedroom from the public rooms such as
the salon or the dining room, both of which were usually reserved for the reception of guests. For more
information about the typical architectural layout of a French interior at the time, see Monique Eleb
and Anne Debarre, Architecture de la vie privée: Maisons et mentalités, XVIIe-XIXe siècles (Paris:
Hazan, 1999).

170
to achieve theatrical effects, than to the study of a decorator concerned with practical
matters such as the solidity of hinges, functional use of space, or the quality of
materials employed. Lenoir was thus producing picturesque images “to see” rather
than blueprints for habitable décors. He might have responded to and even
encouraged the taste for lavish interior decoration, as his critics asserted, yet he did so
with a mind set on aesthetic accomplishment in a field that one might call “interior
landscape design.”
306

Such images speak to Lenoir’s refusal to obey the decorating principles
upheld by the Union centrale with regards to the use of non-incumbent drapery. At
the same time, their extensive circulation and display through subsequent reprints and
as part of various public exhibitions stand as proof to their popular success.
307
Not
least, Lenoir’s interior views speak to a French popular taste for lavish interior
decoration designs that characterized the latter half of the nineteenth century. This
popular taste for lavish designs brought the decorator international recognition in
1889 but stood in stark contrast to the tenets of the Union centrale. Tremendously
well received, yet with little hope of ever providing schemes practical enough to be
applicable to real bourgeois interiors, pattern books such as Lenoir’s responded to a

306
The term “interior landscape painting” has been used by Gere, Nineteenth-Century Decoration, p.
56.

307
If originally published at the artist’s expense in 1879 in folio, Décors des fenêtres et des lits was
subsequently re-issued by the publishing house of Ch. Juliot around 1890 in quarto. See G. Félix
Lenoir, Décors des fenêtres et des lits, ensembles d'intérieurs et dispositions diverses (Dourdan, Seine-
et-Oise: Ch. Juliot, [1890]), in the collection of the Bibliothèque nationale. If Lenoir’s first edition of
Décors des fenêtres et des lits included plates reproduced by Berthaud (9, rue Cadet, Paris) with the
help of photolithography, Juliot’s later edition incorporated plates printed at Châteaudun by the
Imprimerie Laussedat.

171
public eager to consume the interior in a two-dimensional visual form, no matter how
fantastic. In return, public consumption of imaginary private interiors led to a
resurgence of curiosity in the artistic genre of fantasy architecture, thus bringing
decorators such as Lenoir and their “extravagant draperies” very much into public
favor.
308

Just as towards the end of the nineteenth century celebrated artists such as
Maurice Denis (1870-1943), Paul Gauguin (1848-1903) and Henri Matisse (1869-
1954) made a claim on the world of decoration, which became central to their art,
nineteenth-century French decorators had made a claim on the world of “high art”
beginning with the 1870s.
309
Well before the end of the century, artists working for
industry have made their appearance on the stage that was believed to pertain solely
to the “fine arts.” Indeed, art historical scholarship has so far practically ignored the

308
The foremost master of fantasy architecture had been the Italian draftsman, architect, and etcher
Giovanni Battista Piranesi (1720-1778), whose capprici (imaginary architectural compositions)
appeared in book format ever since 1743. His 1743 publication, Prima Parte di Architetture e
Prospettive, included etched plates of ideal structures and dramatic ruin scenes which, as John Wilton-
Ely explains, were intended “to reprove the mediocrity, as he saw it, of the contemporary architectural
profession.” See John Wilton-Ely, “Design through Fantasy: Piranesi as Designer,” in Sarah E.
Lawrence, ed., Piranesi As Designer (New York: Cooper-Hewitt, National Design Museum, 2007). In
nineteenth-century France, one could still find architects engaging with the medium of the cappricio in
such publications as the architect Henri Mayeux’s (1845-1929) Fantaisies architecturales (Paris:
Armand Guérinet, [1900]).

309
See, for example, John Hallmark Neff, “Matisse and Decoration, 1906-1914: Studies of the
Ceramics and the Commissions for Paintings and Stained Glass” (Ph.D. Dissertation, Harvard
University, 1974) and John Klein, “Sensation: The Symbolist Contribution to Matisse’s Decorative
Aesthetic,” in Rosina Neginsky, ed., The Symbolist Movement: Its Origins and Consequences
(Newcastle, England: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2011), pp. 581-91. Nancy Troy las also
mentioned the connection between high art and decoration in the works of such Symbolist artists as
Paul Gauguin, Maurice Denis and Edouard Vuillard (1868-1940), which often favored flattened spaces
and emphasized surface patterns. See Troy, Modernism and the Decorative Arts, p. 2.

172
world of interior decoration operating in a consumer marketplace.
310
But the same
decorators that were part of the “trade” were producing and exhibiting paintings at
Salons and other such nineteenth-century exhibition venues. Not only did they share
the same critics with “high artists,” including such names already familiar to art
historians as Henry Havard and Charles Blanc, but they also adopted the same
methods of distribution and display as their counterparts did.
311
This chapter, then,
interrogates this unfounded separation between “artists” and “decorators” throughout
the second half of nineteenth-century France by examining the circulation and display
of imaginary interior decoration designs.
To better understand the relationship between “high art” and interior
decoration, this chapter will start with an account of the status of the decorative arts at
the time. It was not until 1891 that an official French Salon opened its doors to the
decorative arts.
312
The so-called “minor” or “industrial” arts had been relegated to the
status of “crafts” and had been tainted in the public imagination by the touch of
commerce and industrialization throughout most of the nineteenth century. They

310
Notable exceptions are Troy, Modernism and the Decorative Arts and Gabet, Le Décorateur et
l’amateur d’art. Some of the most-often cited scholarly publications on the history of nineteenth-
century French decorative arts come from the field of history. See especially Silverman, Art Nouveau
in Fin-de-Siècle France, Tiersten, Marianne in the Market, Walton, France at the Crystal Palace,
Auslander, Taste and Power.

311
Both Henry Havard and Charles Blanc dedicated extensive volumes to the world of interior
decoration, while also providing criticism and dedicating studies to forms of “high art” such as
painting. Blanc’s most significant contribution to the art of interior decoration has been his Grammaire
des arts décoratifs, first published in installments in the Gazette des beaux-arts. Havard’s most
important piece of writing in this direction was his L’Art dans la maison (Grammaire de
l’ameublement). See Havard, L’Art dans la maison (1883).

312
Froissart Pezone, L’Art dans tout, p. 30.

173
were, therefore, excluded from the official exhibition which was dedicated to the
display of artistic genius. Yet decorators working for industry such as G. Félix Lenoir
and his mentor, Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, two “industrial draftsmen” (dessinateurs
industriels) as they often called themselves, were possibly as well known to the
French public in the second half of the nineteenth century as were such well-
positioned academic artists as Paul Baudry (1828-1886), Alexandre Cabanel (1823-
1889) or Ernest Meissonnier (1815-1891).
313

By adopting a popular form of display such as the book, these decorators
outsmarted the beaux-arts system while working with and within it (not least through
the adoption of its compositional devices) and made themselves known to a general
public (high and low) that recognized the value of their designs in new ways.
Available in several formats (folios, quartos, octavos), different media (lithographs,
photographs, héliogravures, etc.) and at various prices, pattern books and their images
functioned not least as collectibles to be displayed in nineteenth-century bourgeois
interiors.
314
Moreover, since Prignot and Lenoir also exhibited watercolors at official

313
For the student-mentor relationship between Lenoir and Prignot see Legriel, “Groupe 3,” p. 42.

314
The British architect William Frederick Randall, for instance, the principal artist in the 1890s of the
home furnishing and interior decorating firm of Howard & Sons, owned an 1892 edition of Georges
Rémon’s Intérieurs d’appartements modernes. See Rémon, Intérieurs d’appartements modernes in the
Winterthur Library’s collection, which is signed and dated on the cover by Randall. On the connection
between Howard & Sons and Randall, see Howard & Sons, Designs for Furniture and Decorations
(London: Howard & Sons, [1891]), in the collection of the Winterthur Library. I have determined the
catalogue’s approximate publication date based on the 1891 Royal Academy exhibition that it makes
reference to. For more information on Randall, see Algernon Graves, F.S.A., The Royal Academy of
Arts: A Complete Dictionary of Contributors and Their Work from Its Foundation in 1769 to 1904,
vol. VI (London: Henry Graves and Co. Ltd. and George Bell and Sons, 1906), p. 235. The American
architect H. R. Wilson owned a copy of Édouard Bajot’s French Styles in Furniture and Architecture.
See Bajot, French Styles in Furniture and Architecture in the collection of the Getty Research
Institute. Each page bears a stamp which says “property of H. R. Wilson, architect.”

174
Salons in the 1870s, their frequent adoption of the printed medium at the expense of
other art forms such as oil painting or watercolor calls for a re-evaluation of the
high/low art hierarchies at the time.
Finally, the chapter examines how the new interest in the pattern book as a
collectible and work of art was encouraged by national and international exhibitions
that allowed the various publishing houses to show their works and compete against
each other publicly. If generally absent from the fine arts sections of the universal
exhibitions, both Lenoir’s and Prignot’s designs took pride of place in the industrial
arts sections as well as in the printing and publishing sectors of the very same shows,
thus often claiming two exhibition spaces rather than just one and attracting a similar
crowd to the one that academic artists did in their respective sections. One way or
another, therefore, these decorators and their works circulated within the public
sphere of official exhibitions, also reaching an audience for whom the only measure
of success was public display.
The work of G. Félix Lenoir and his fellow decorators thus constitutes an
excellent case-study for an analysis of the illustrated, imaginary interior in the second
half of nineteenth-century France, which functioned both as an art form and an object
of mass production and mass consumption. Ultimately, in the battle of “rational”
interior designs against all fabric-clad, cluttered ones, the former prevailed. Scholars
such as Peter Wollen have pointed out how, filtered through Cubism, historic
modernism “developed an aesthetic of the engineer, obsessed by machine forms and


175
directed against the lure of the ornamental and the superfluous” to the extent that “an
art of the leisure class, dedicated to conspicuous waste and display, gave way to an art
of the engineer, precise, workmanlike and production-oriented.”
315
Such “rational”
aesthetic movements later translated into Soviet Constructivism, the Bauhaus, De
Stijl, Purism, or the French Esprit Nouveau. Yet the “cluttered” interior never
completely disappeared, haunting modern interior architecture in France up until the
mid-twentieth century and beyond.
316
It is to people such as Lenoir and their
marketing strategies for interior decoration designs in the latter half of the nineteenth
century that one needs to turn to understand the reasons behind the attraction such
designs displayed and their continuous monopoly over publications dedicated to
interior design for a consumer audience.
The first thing that catches one’s eye when opening an album of interior
designs by G. Félix Lenoir is the decorator’s spectacular use of drapery. To say that
interior decoration projects such as Lenoir’s bedroom of 1879 merely followed a
public taste for excessive ornamentation inside private homes ignores these images’
role in connecting the fine and the decorative arts. Pattern books such as Lenoir’s
Décors des fenêtres et des lits (1879) and Décoration des appartements (1887)
suggest that this decorator’s relation to drapery was more complex. In fact, one could

315
For a replacement of interiors dedicated to the superfluous by those celebrating an aesthetic of the
machine, see Wollen, “Fashion/Orientalism/The Body.”

316
For the continuation of the Second Empire style into the twentieth century, see Sophie Ernst “La
Représentation des intérieurs mondains dans L’Illustration, Journal universel sous le Second Empire,”
Mémoire d’étude, 1ère année de 2ème cycle (Paris: Ecole du Louvre, 2009) and Badea-Päun, Le Style
Second Empire. For its current application in contemporary interiors, see Franck Ferrand, Jacques
Garcia: Decorating in the French Style (Paris: Flammarion, 1999).

176
almost say that drapery quickly became the main character in Lenoir’s work. In two
wall elevations for a Salon in the Louis XVI Style, the decorator dedicated the center
of the composition to window-curtains and bay-hangings, paying as much attention to
the perfect rendition of their creases and folds as to the other furniture and decorative
objects displayed in the room.
317
(Fig. 3.2) In fact, his love of drapery was so
ubiquitous that he employed it even where it was not needed, as it can be seen in a
Louis XIII hallway.
318
(Fig. 3.3) Here, a tent-like structure with a central motif
resembling a medieval coat of arms takes over half of the composition. The mass of
fabric hovers above the entire scene and reaches out through playful ropes to the area
right above the doorway, the very center of the illustration. Scholars have pointed out
how draperies, long associated with women and the domestic realm, have been
rejected by as overly-decorative and effeminate.
319
Lenoir’s designs, rather than
because of their display of draperies, were initially rejected, I would like to propose,
due to their aspiration to a “high-art status” – a condition which the friends of the
Union centrale strongly disfavored.
As critics made clear, instead of working for the industry, where they were
needed, too many young artists aspired to become painters in a market already

317
G. Félix Lenoir, Décoration des appartements. Ouvrage faisant suite au Décors de tous styles.
Compositions nouvelles d'ameublement (Paris: Chez l’auteur, 1887), plate no. 11.

318
Ibid., plate no. 30.

319
Sanders, “Curtain Wars,” p. 16. Sanders points out how “evoking ornament’s longstanding and
pejorative association with femininity,” modernist architects “preferred stripped-down buildings,
which they compared with ‘naked men,’ over ornamented structures, which they likened to over-
dressed women.” Sanders aptly explains how “window dressing,” the other term for curtains, “with its
allusion to apparel, underscores the intimate association of interior decoration with fashion and
femininity. Like drapery on mannequins, drapes on windows ‘outfit’ the domestic interior.”

177
saturated with such artworks. The critic, collector, and art historian Edmond Bonnaffé
(1825-1903) argued that the “temptation of becoming an artist,” combined with the
seduction of annual exhibitions gave birth to a “multitude of mediocrities that would
otherwise have found a place in the industry or somewhere else.” Rather than
contribute to the art world, such “mediocrities” posed a serious competition to real
talents, since, the public preferred cheap luxury and fake masterpieces to true art.
320

Lenoir’s designs would have seen the light of day right in the middle of such debates
about the merits of industrial over fine artists, and the artist’s preference for fantastic
interiors at the expense of more down-to-earth, easily-constructed ones would have
affected their reception by the jury of the Union centrale.
The closest visual parallels that such constructions call to mind are the
nineteenth-century theater stage sets, or the two-dimensional counterparts that served
as their models. Lenoir’s design does not seem too far away from such works as
Pierre-Luc-Charles Cicéri’s 1827 décor for the first act of Moïse, as shown in a
watercolor by Auguste Caron (b. 1806). (Fig. 3.4) A complete identification between
the two décors notwithstanding, Lenoir’s meant to suggest the style of the
Renaissance while Cicéri’s intended as an evocation of Egypt, one meant for the
private interior, the other for the public stage of the Paris Opéra, Lenoir’s use of palm
trees in conjunction with the tent-like construction suggests that the decorator may
well have been aware of Cicéri’s designs and his principles of composition.

320
Bonnaffé, Causeries sur l'art et la curiosité, p. 14. A friend of the Union centrale, Edmond
Bonnaffé frequently praised this institution. See Bonnaffé, Causeries sur l’art, p. 234.

178
Indeed, the comparison between G. Félix Lenoir’s interior decoration designs
and theater is not as random as it might initially seem, since, in fact, Lenoir was part
of Cicéri’s artistic family tree. A student of Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, who had
studied under Cicéri (1782-1868), the peintre-en-chef of the Paris Opéra starting with
1815, Lenoir was connected to the world of theater in more direct ways than merely
as a spectator.
321
Several of his designs, if not directly citing the work of his
professional “grandfather” did at least pay tribute to the stage curtain, which often
had a life of its own. In plate no. 49 from Décors des fenêtres et des lits, titled “An
Opening onto a Petit Salon, Louis XIII Fireplace, Miscellaneous Furniture,” lavish
draperies assumed once more a central role in the composition. (Fig. 3.5) Rather than
physically embed the viewer in the interior space depicted, that of the petit salon,
Lenoir situated him or her in the adjacent room. The profusion of fabric separating
the petit salon from its neighboring room, very likely the main salon, no doubt was
meant to function as a partitioning device, which would connect or close off one
room from the other at the owner’s will. Indeed, using the petit salon as an extension
of the receiving room (the salon) on social occasions was a common practice at the
time.
322
However, the carefully-arranged display of fabric, intermingled with ropes

321
For the relationship between Prignot and Cicéri, see the entry on “Alexandre Eugène Prignot” in
Ulrich Thieme and Felix Becker, Allgemeines Lexikon der bildenden Künstler (Leipzig: Seemann,
1978), p. 401, and the entry on “Prignot Alexandre Eugène ˮ in Emmanuel Bénézit, ed., Dictionnaire
critique et documentaire des peintres, sculpteurs, dessinateurs & graveurs de tous les temps et de tous
les pays (Paris: Gründ, 1999). For an extensive biography of Cicéri, see Join-Diéterle, Les Décors de
scène de l’Opéra, especially pp. 167-180. For more information on Cicéri also see Emmanuel Bénézit,
Dictionary of Artists, vol. 3 (Paris: Éditions Gründ, 2006), p. 1015.

322
Lesueur, Pour bien tenir sa maison, p. 23.

179
and fixtures designed to keep it in place, seems to have functioned as a decorative
device in Lenoir’s image more than as a practical tool meant to be tampered with
every day. As such, bay curtains seem to have served no other function here than to
showcase the furniture pieces and decorative objects in the petit salon, much like a
theater stage curtain would showcase the fantasy-world of the play and separate it
from the real world of spectators, or a picture frame would enclose the depicted space
and mark it as different from that of viewers. From his or her position outside the
petit salon, the viewer’s experience of that space was framed by draperies and walls,
by that which the artist had chosen to reveal. Indeed, scholars have singled out
draperies and frames as connectors between the art of theater and the art of painting.
The art historian Georges Banu, for instance, has defined the two as arts which
“organize their discourses departing from the frame within which the curtain
intervenes as an element essential to the staging of a representational system.”
323

Like theater and painting, Lenoir suggested, interior decoration was an art of illusion
that played with spatial perceptions and evoked the possibility a world away from the

323
Georges Banu, Le Rideau ou la fêlure du monde (Paris: Société Nouvelle Adam Biro, 1997), p. 12.
The original text reads: “elle fonde la solidarité entre les deux arts [le tableau et la scène] qui
organisent leur discours à partir du cadre dans lequel le rideau intervient comme élément indispensable
à la mise en scène d’un dispositif de représentation.” With regards to paintings, Banu’s focus is
composed of those works which literally incorporate draperies within the painted scenes. For more
insights on the tradition of “framing” the visual field, also see Anne Friedberg, The Virtual Window:
From Alberti to Microsoft (Cambridge, Massachusetts and London, England: The MIT Press, 2006).
Friedberg, for instance, argued that the window functioned like a painting by framing “an opening onto
the world,” while the painting operated like a window. As a technique to construct perspective, she
explained, the painter framed the view. See Friedberg, The Virtual Window, p. 12. The window thus
becomes a metaphor for a painting, and the draperies that often enclose it stand in for the frame.

180
nineteenth-century present.
324
By often using a device similar to the picture frame or
the theater curtain in his work, Lenoir commented on his role as an artist rather than a
mere worker for industry. He pointed out the connections that linked the world of
high art and that of the industrial arts rather than the differences, and collapsed
categories.
Indeed, theater in nineteenth-century France was very much part of the
everyday-life of the upper-middle classes. As art historian Catherine Join-Diéterle
explains, ever since the 1830s, the Paris Opéra had replaced the court as the preferred
space for socializing. Within its precincts, politicians and businessmen mingled with
artists and pretty women.
325
Starting with the Second Empire, when public balls took
over the Parisian imagination, the masked ball at the Opéra quickly became the chief
attraction of the season, maintaining its status at least since 1873, when Édouard
Manet painted his celebrated work Masked Ball at the Opéra.
326
(Fig. 3.6) Costumed
events modeled on this celebration sprung within the ablodes of wealthy Parisians,

324
Banu captures the role of the curtain in theater and painting succinctly: “it saves the potentiality of a
change and maintains the possibility of an alternative. Both enclosure and mobility define it.” The
original text reads: “il sauvegarde la virtualité d’un changement et préserve la possibilité d’une
alternative. Clôture et mobilité le définissent ensemble.” See Banu, Le Rideau, p. 7. As he explains,
“thanks to the curtain, those who look upon a painting arrive to realize the theatricality of the painted
scene.” The original text reads: “Grâce au rideau, ceux qui regardent un tableau parviennent tantôt à
reconnaître la théâtralité intérieure à la scène peinte.” See Banu, Le Rideau, p. 11.

325
Join-Diéterle, Les Décors de scène, p. 26.

326
Robert L. Herbert, Impressionism: Art, Leisure, & Parisian Society (New Haven and London: Yale
University Press, 1988), p. 131. Herbert explains that the masked balls at the Opéra were held
Saturday nights from December till Mardi Gras until about 1875, when the spaces of Garnier’s new
Opéra did not suit them anymore and they began to lose in popularity. However, the Opéra balls have
a long history, which goes back to the eighteenth century. According to Anne Martin-Fugier, the first
masked ball at the Opéra was held in 1716 with the occasion of the carnival. See Martin-Fugier, La Vie
élégante, p. 134.

181
with the advantage that entrance here was restricted to those few who were invited as
distinct from anybody who could pay the ten francs ticket for the ball at the Opéra.
327

The main decorators of the Opéra such as Pierre-Luc-Charles Cicéri, also
famous for his 1820s and 1830s décors created for royal celebrations or
commemorations (including the Fêtes du sacre de Charles X in 1824 and the
Funérailles du duc d’Orléans in 1842) were often hired by such wealthy customers to
organize their parties.
328
The effects of theater were transposed into domestic interiors
and private staging, and the guests of such celebrations became actors in plays set in
the most diverse décors.
329
Indeed, the parallel between private interiors and theater
goes even further when one realizes that at the same time that contemporaneity in
costume and decoration to the events represented appeared as a requirement on the
stages of the Opéra (where actors had previously worn antique garbs and performed
in classicizing settings regardless of the era portrayed on stage), private interiors
became more attuned to historic accuracy. The neoclassical furniture and decoration
of the late eighteenth-century and early nineteenth century was replaced by a plethora

327
Ten francs was the entrance ticket in 1870. See Herbert, Impressionism, p. 131. The actress Mlle
Mars threw a masked-ball in 1827, which was heavily mediatized, while colonel Thorn was famed for
his masked balls such as the 1841 Louis XIV-themed one, where guests were advised to go study the
décor and costumes at Versailles in order to adequately prepare for the celebration. The baron James de
Rothschild did not lag far behind, and he was famed for hiring architects and decorators to organize his
celebrations. He reputedly hired the architect Berthault, who also used to be in charge of the mis-en-
scène for the celebrations organized by the count d’Artois, future Charles X, at Bagatelle. For more
information about such private celebrations, see Martin-Fugier, La Vie élégante, pp. 113-138.

328
Join-Diéterle, Les Décors de scène, p. 260.

329
Ibid., p. 27.

182
of historic and exotic themes, which took over the private interior starting with the
July Monarchy.
330

Decorators such as Pierre-Luc-Charles Cicéri and his team of students and
collaborators, including Charles-Antoine Cambon (1802-1875), Jules-Pierre-Michel
Diéterle (1811-1889), Edouard Désiré Joseph Despléchin (1802-1870), Léon
Feuchère (1804-1857), and Polycarpe Charles Séchan (1803-1874), may well have
revolutionized the world of theater décor.
331
But they also directly influenced private
interiors and their decoration. For example, in 1841, Séchan, together with Feuchère,
Despléchin, and Diéterle, founded a decorating business, which, in addition to
numerous theater décors for the Paris Opéra, also produced the interior decoration of
several salons in Baden-Baden (in the Louis XIII, Louis XIV, Renaissance, and Louis
XV styles), that of the palace of Dolma Baghché in Istanbul, the Maison de
Conversation of E. Benazet, and Alexandre Dumas’ Renaissance-inspired Château de
Monte-Cristo in Saint-Germain, near Paris.
332
More importantly, it was these
decorators’ progeny that were recognized for their interior design contributions at the
1889 Paris Exposition universelle, where G. Félix Lenoir won his silver medal. In
addition to Lenoir (a student of Prignot, who himself was a student of Cicéri), three
other designers were distinguished by the international jury. Invariably, they can all

330
For the development of an interior decoration based on different styles (or themes) in each room,
see Chapter 1.

331
For the working relations between these decorators see Join-Diéterle, Les Décors de scène, pp. 260-
275. Catherine Join-Diéterle calls Feuchère, Séchan, Diéterle and Despléchin “the Delacroix,
Decamps, Marilhat, Cabat of theater painting. ˮ See Diéterle, Les Décors de scène, p. 30.

332
Ibid., p. 263.

183
be traced back to Cicéri, or the latter’s students and collaborators. They were
Célestin-François-Louis Gosse (a student of the Belgian painter Louis Ricquier
(1792-1884) and Charles-Antoine Cambon, who had been a student and collaborator
of Cicéri), Georges Rémon (ca. 1853/54-ca. 1931) (himself a student, collaborator,
and nephew of Prignot), and Fernand Lamotte (again student and collaborator of
Prignot).
333

Owing, one way or another, their training to the world of theater and its
décors, these artist-designers occupied the ambiguous space between art and industry.
An architecte-décorateur and artiste dessinateur (Gosse),
334
a dessinateur décorateur
(Lenoir),
335
and another architecte décorateur (Rémon),
336
as they called themselves,
although they had all exhibited at various official Salons, these decorators did not

333
For the student-master relationship between Gosse and Cambon, himself a student and collaborator
of Cicéri, see the Catalogue illustré officiel du Salon des arts décoratifs (Paris: A Quantin, 1883), p.
17. For the relationship between Rémon and Prignot, see Legriel, “Groupe 3,” p. 46, and for that
between Lamotte and Prignot, see Legriel, “Groupe 3,” p. 50. The services of a certain “Gosse père”
(possibly Nicolas Louis François Gosse, 1787-1878) seem to have also been employed by the Paris
Opéra. According to Join-Diéterle, Les Décors de scène, p. 176, Gosse père (possibly Céléstin-
François-Louis’ father) was an exterior artist under the Empire. In 1840, Cambon, Cicéri, and
Gosse were charged to re-paint the main hall of the Opéra. See Join-Diéterle, Les Décors de scène, p.
71. This Gosse might have been Célestin-François-Louis, back then possibly already a student of
Cambon. For more information on Nicolas Louis François Gosse, see Ulrich Thieme and Felix Becker,
eds., Allgemeines Lexikon der Bildenden Künstler von der Antike bis zur Gegenwart (Leipzig:
Seemann, 1921), p. 413.

334
In an article published on Gosse’s contributions to the Salon of 1886 (a Boudoir; époque Louis XVI
and a Cabinet de travail, renaissance) in the Revue générale de l’architecture et des travaux publics,
César Daly called the artist an architecte-décorateur. See César Daly, “Boudoir et cabinet de travail
par M. Gosse, architecte-décorateur,” Revue générale de l’architecture et des travaux publics (1886),
p. 186. In his account of Gosse’s contribution to the Paris Exposition universelle of 1889, Legriel
called the Célestin Gosse an artiste dessinateur. See Legriel, “Groupe 3,” p. 45.

335
This is the denomination that Lenoir chose to describe himself. See Lenoir, Décors de fenêtres et de
lits (1879).

336
This is the denomination that Rémon used to describe his work. See Rémon, Soixante planches de
peinture décorative.

184
bend to the rigid categories of fine arts imposed by the Académie des beaux-arts and
did not define themselves accordingly. Like their theatrical predecessors, for whom
the unyielding rules of the Académie and the École des beaux-arts were of no
concern, these decorators received much public acclaim. They engaged in many
activities, adapted easily to various settings, and produced work in a variety of
formats. They moved freely between the official Salons and the industrial or universal
expositions, as well as between the different branches of the same shows. In this way,
they claimed the world of art as much as they had claimed that of interior decoration.
Studying their creative output will complicate what we know about decoration, while
showing how the world of the decorator and that of “high art” converged in the latter
half of the nineteenth century.
The one official exhibition in France, where fine artists displayed their works
for public scrutiny was the yearly-held, government-sponsored Salon. Instituted in
1663, but organized irregularly until 1737, the Salon originally included works
commissioned in advance for a specific destination.
337
As art historian Patricia
Mainardi explains, the French Salons of the Old Regime did not show artworks to
sell, but artworks to see.
338
Open to the two main branches of arts espoused by the
Académie de peinture et de sculpture, the Salons of the ancien régime did not allow

337
Épron, Comprendre l’éclectisme, p. 270.

338
Patricia Mainardi, The End of the Salon: Art and the State in the Early Third Republic (Cambridge
and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1993), pp. 11-14.

185
the decorative arts within their walls.
339
Since upholsterers, cabinet-makers, glass
manufacturers, etc., were not part of the Academy, Salons did not exhibit any of their
works, regardless of the media employed or the works’ relevance to a specific Salon
section.
Following the 1789 Revolution, all of this changed. More particularly, the
Salons became in principle open to everybody.
340
Yet a rigid jury system formed by
the most conservative members of the Académie des beaux-arts, instituted as part of
the Institut de France in 1795, prevented many non-members from exhibiting their
works. In addition, the outline of the four sections did not change. So, although
decorative artists could technically contribute works, their displays had to fall within
such limiting categories as painting, sculpture, architecture, and engraving. What
decorative arts went on view were projects, sketches, models or sculptures belonging
to monumental decoration. Any other “art objects” were invariably excluded.
341
As
art historian Rossella Froissart Pezone explains, the decorative arts were rejected on
three main grounds. First, their functional character separated them from the category
of “pure art.” Second, as several hands were usually involved at various stages of
conception and production, the notion of “artistic property” in the case of decorative
arts was problematic. And, finally, the possible intervention of various industrial

339
The Académie de peinture et de sculpture was instituted in 1663. In 1793, it was abolished.
Architects were not allowed to exhibit their works as part of the yearly Salons until 1791. See Épron,
Comprendre l’éclectisme, p. 270. The Academy were re-organizes in 1795 under the auspices of the
Institut de France, a section of which included the newly-formed Académie des beaux-arts.

340
Mainardi, The End of the Salon, p. 9.

341
Froissart Pezone, L’Art dans tout, pp. 23-24.

186
procedures in the process of production separated them from the man-made “unique”
character of a single work of art.
342
Often designed by the same artists who exhibited
in the fine arts sections, such objects as clocks, sculpted fireplaces, lamps, bracelets,
etc., could only be shown by manufacturers within the national industrial exhibitions
or the international expositions universelles, which dominated the urban landscapes of
major European and American cities starting with the second half of the nineteenth
century.
343

It was not until 1891 that the decorative arts would fully be welcomed as part
of an official Salon.
344
Relegated by the State in 1880 to the Société des artistes
français, an organ composed of ninety artists chosen by those who had exhibited at
earlier Salons, the official Salons of the Académie des beaux-arts continued the same
practice of exclusion of the decorative arts from their grounds.
345
Unhappy with this
state of affairs, several artists split in 1890 from the Société des artistes français and
formed the Société nationale des beaux-arts.
346
Organizing their own Salons in the
Palais du Champ-de-Mars, it would be the members of this Société nationale that

342
Ibid., p. 24.

343
Ibid., p. 25.

344
Ibid., p. 28.

345
Ibid., p. 24.

346
Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle France, p. 208.

187
would finally allow the decorative arts to be exhibited alongside those of sculpture,
painting, architecture and engraving starting with their second Salon, in 1891.
347

As opposed to the Salons of the Société des artistes français, still held in the
Palais de Champs-Élysées, the Salons de Champ-de-Mars of the Société nationale
sought to improve the display of the works of art on view. They thus successfully
introduced not only refreshment and seating areas within the exhibition space, but
also plants and draperies, which, framing the artwork on view, granted the show the
more personalized aspect of a bourgeois interior.
348
No doubt, as Rossella Froissart
Pezone suggests, the decorative arts section added more color to an arrangement
already very well taken care of, thus facilitating their inclusion in these annual
exhibitions. Starting with 1893, the Société nationale allowed artists to show all
things pertaining to interior decoration in the section dedicated to architecture,
furniture and decorative objects included.
349
The public success of these rooms finally

347
Froissart Pezone, L’Art dans tout, p. 28. According to Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle
France, p. 208, while the Société des artistes français was lead by Adolphe William Bouguereau
(1825-1905), the Société nationale des beaux-arts was led by Jean Louis Ernest Meissonier (1815-
1891) and contained such artists devoted to the decorative arts as Auguste Rodin (1840-1917), Pierre
Puvis de Chavannes (1824-1898), and Eugène Carrière (1849-1906).

348
Ibid., p. 28. For more information on the new display features of the Salon du Champ-de-Mars as
opposed to the Salon des Champs-Élysées, see Marie Jeannine Aquilino, “The Decorating Campaigns
at the Salon du Champ-de-Mars and the Salon des Champs-Élysées in the 1890s,” Art Journal 48, no.
1 (Spring 1989), pp. 78-84. The atmosphere of a private bourgeois interior had also been attempted as
part of the décor of the various Impressionist exhibitions that began in Paris in 1874. See Martha
Ward, “Impressionist Installations and Private Exhibitions,” The Art Bulletin 73, no. 4 (December
1991), pp. 599-622.

349
Ibid., p. 30. Pezone explains how decorative artists were still at a disadvantage in these shows: the
artists exhibiting in the decorative arts section could not be part of the admission jury to the exhibition.
Painters, sculptors, engravers and architects were the only ones allowed to make such decisions. But
ironically enough, Froissart Pezone continues, most decorative artists often already belonged to one of
these sections anyway.

188
forced the doors of the Salon of the Société des artistes français to open, and, starting
with 1895, the latter also began to show decorative art within the pre-established four
sections of painting, sculpture, architecture, and engraving.
350

Forcefully imposed upon the creative output of nineteenth-century artists,
such categories did not, however, completely limit the participation to the annual
Salons of those artists working for industry and involved with interior decoration.
Although mostly known as the decorator of the Opéra, Cicéri was an architect by
training. A student of the French architect Béllangé, Cicéri was also a painter, a
watercolorist, a caricaturist and a designer of stage-sets.
351
Following the tradition of
those educated at the École des beaux-arts, starting with 1827, Cicéri often exhibited
at the Paris Salons, including watercolor-views of Italy and Switzerland in 1831.
352

Like his artistic grandfather, Gustave Félix Lenoir participated in these shows too.
Thus, for example, in 1873 he exhibited a Project for the Decoration of a Large
room, with the Arms of the Most Important French Cities [Projet de décoration d’une
grande salle, aux armes des principales villes de France] in the Architecture section
of the Salon, while in 1874 he showed A Project for the Decoration of Prince L…’s
Dining-Room [Projet de décoration pour la salle à manger du prince de L…] and in
1877 a Decorative Project for a Celebration-Room [Projet de décoration pour une

350
Ibid., p. 31.

351
Bénézit, Dictionary of Artists, p. 1015.

352
Cicéri entered the first class at the École des beaux-arts in 1808. See Join-Diéterle, Les Décors de
scène, p. 260.

189
salle de fêtes] in the same Architecture sections.
353
Known to have designed complete
interiors for various architects or furnishings and draperies for upholsterers, which he
then had executed under his own supervision, Lenoir nevertheless eagerly prepared
for these official exhibitions as an 1870 watercolor surviving in the collection of the
Musée des arts décoratifs in Paris attests.
354
(Fig. 3.7) Presented by Lenoir as a gift to
the museum in 1908 and signed by him in the lower right-hand corner, the watercolor
very likely represented a sketch for his Decorative Project for a Renaissance Dining-
Room [Projet de décoration pour la salle à manger Renaissance] exhibited in the
Architecture section of the 1870 Salon, as betrayed by the game and the fish that
adorned the woodwork on either side of the fireplace.
355
Regardless of their training,
therefore, artists working for the industry were very much present on the scene so far
believed to have pertained solely to the fine arts.
Scholars agree that recognition of the decorative arts, which ultimately led to
their inclusion within the system of official exhibitions, was largely due to the

353
See Ministère de l’instruction publique, des cultes et des beaux-arts, Salon de 1873, 90e exposition
officielle depuis l’année 1673: Explication des ouvrages de peinture, sculpture, architecture, gravure
et lithographie des artistes vivants exposés au Palais des Champs-Élysées le 5 mai 1873 (Paris:
Imprimerie nationale, 1873) and Ministère de l’instruction publique, des cultes et des beaux-arts,
Direction des beaux-arts, Salon de 1874, 91e exposition officielle depuis l’année 1673: Explication des
ouvrages de peinture, sculpture, architecture, gravure et lithographie des artistes vivants exposés au
Palais des Champs-Élysées le 1er mai 1874 (Paris: Imprimerie nationale, 1874), reprinted in Pierre
Sanchez and Xavier Seydoux, eds., Les Catalogues des Salons (Dijon: L’échelle de Jacob, 2004).

354
Lenoir, “Life of the Author.”

355
In addition to this watercolor representing a Decorative Project for a Renaissance Dining-Room,
Lenoir also showed a Decorative Project for a Grand Salon Louis XVI [Projet de décoration pour un
grand salon Louis XVI] the same year. See Ministère des beaux-arts, Salon de 1870, 88e Exposition
officielle depuis l’année 1673: Explication des ouvrages de peinture, sculpture, architecture, gravure
et lithographie des artistes vivants exposés au Palais des Champs-Élysées le 1 mai 1870 (Paris:
Charles de Mourgues Frères, successeurs de Vinchon, Imprimeurs des Musées Impériaux, 1870),
reprinted in Sanchez and Seydoux, eds., Les Catalogues des Salons.

190
workings of a society by the name of the Union centrale des beaux-arts appliqués à
l’industrie (the Union centrale des arts décoratifs starting with 1882). Officially
established as the Société du progrès de l’art industriel in 1845, the Union centrale
was composed of artists, industrialists, collectors, scholars, and official bureaucrats,
and had as one of its primary goals the valorization of industrial artists within an
increasingly mechanized production system.
356
More particularly, it strove to win for
these “minor” or “industrial” artists an honorable place within the very strict
academic hierarchy, thus isolating their work as “designers” from the taint of the
industrialized production system.
357
Its creed, as Froissart-Pezone explains, could
succinctly be summarized in the following way: “art was one; only its manifestations
were multiple.”
358

To achieve its goals, the Union centrale took two alternative paths. In a first
instance, it used the mid-nineteenth-century bourgeoisie’s passion for collecting to

356
See Rossella Froissart-Pezone, “L’École à la recherche d’une identité entre art et industrie (1877-
1914),” in d’Enfert, Froissart-Pezone, Leben, and Martin, Histoire de l'École nationale supérieure des
arts décoratifs, p. 113. And Froissart Pezone, L’Art dans tout, p. 19. The 1845 Société du progress de
l’art industriel was created by Amédée Couder (1797-1864) and Édouard Guichard (1815-1889), two
designers specializing in models for textiles. The Société du progress de l’art industriel was renamed
as the Union centrale des beaux-arts appliqués à l’industrie starting with 1864. In 1882, L’Union
centrale des beaux-arts appliqués à l’industrie merged with the Société du musée des arts décoratifs,
forming the Union centrale des arts décoratifs. For the role of the Union centrale in the promotion of
the decorative arts, also see Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle France, Auslander, Taste and
Power, and Rosella Froissart Pezone, L’Art dans tout.

357
Froissart Pezone, L’Art dans tout, p. 20.

358
Ibid., p. 21. The unity of the industrial and high arts had been a matter of strong debate starting with
the 1860s, especially since the appointment at the École des beaux-arts of Eugène Emmanuel Viollet-
le-Duc, who, as chair of the newly-created 1863 department of aesthetics, proclaimed the unity of arts
and condemned their separation into “pure” and “decorative” arts from the very beginning. As
Froissart-Pezone explains, the debate was so heated that Viollet-le-Duc was soon forced to resign from
this position.

191
underline the importance of such decorative artists from the past as Benvenuto Cellini
(1500-1571) or Bernard Palissy (1509-1590), whose careers were dedicated both to
the fine and to the decorative arts. With such distinguished predecessors, the work of
nineteenth-century artists for contemporary industries could not be less great.
Secondly, the society proceeded to emphasize the conceptual phase of an object over
that of the object’s production. This “intellectualization of the creative process,”
sustained by the modern division of labor, helped extricate designers from the taint of
industry and the latter’s mechanical methods of production.
359
Among the measures
the society suggested that the government take were the recognition of the significant
role designers played within the field of industrial arts by granting them the right to
sign their creations with their own names next to those of manufacturers; that
designers be allowed to exhibit their projects under their own name and at their own
incentive; and that a professional school be developed for their further education,
complete with a library and a museum.
360
Some of these requests were partially
realized once the Société du progrès held its first exhibitions in 1861 and 1863, where
the different branches of industry accepted to mention the names of those who had
provided drawings and plans for their products, and where a special section was
dedicated to these very same sketches and drawings.
361


359
For a further discussion of these different approaches, see Froissart Pezone, L’Art dans tout, p. 21.

360
Froissart Pezone, L’Art dans tout, p. 20 and Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle France, p.
109. These requests date to 25 November 1852, when three members of the Société du progrès des arts
industriels (Charles-Ernest Clerget, Jules Klagmann and Adrien Chabal-Dussurgey) authored three
reports submitted to Louis Napoléon.

361
Froissart Pezone, L’Art dans tout, p. 20.

192
To further advance the cause of applied arts, starting with 1882, the Union
centrale began to hold its own Salons des arts décoratifs in the eastern wing of the
Palais des Champs-Élysées. Paralleling the official Salon of the Société des artistes
français, with which it shared the same building, the Salon des arts décoratifs held
sections dedicated to decorative architecture, decorative sculpture, and decorative
painting; metallurgy and the silversmith’s art; upholstery, ceramics, enamels and
stained glass; furniture, draperies and fabrics; costumes; as well as the arts of printing
and bookselling. But despite a bold beginning, the Salon des arts décoratifs failed
lamentably the year after, with the outcome that no other exhibition of the kind was
held.
362
It was the Révue des arts décoratifs, the Union centrale’s monthly organ of
information that continued to espouse the cause of the industrial arts and to bring
them forward to the public’s attention.
363

In such articles as Champetier de Ribes’ “La Propriété artistique,” the
society’s opinion with regards to the industrial arts was clearly expressed: no
difference should exist between the decorative and the so-called “pure” art. A lawyer
at the court of appeals, Champetier de Ribes described the errors of a system that
guaranteed copyright protection unconditionally to a work of art, without any deposit,
while denying any protection whatsoever to a design exploited by industry unless


362
Ibid., p. 25.

363
Published starting with 1880, the Revue des arts décoratifs developed out of the former Bulletin of
the Union centrale. At the price of 20 francs a year, the equivalent of the yearly subscription rate,
readers also got a free pass to the Union centrale’s exhibitions and museum. See Édouard André,
“Bulletin de l’Union Centrale des Beaux-Arts appliqués à l’industrie: Rapport du président de l’Union
Centrale (Édouard André),” Revue des arts décoratifs 1 (1880-1881), p. 23.

193
deposited beforehand.
364
Invariably, the choice between one system of legislation and
the other stayed with the artist-designer. If an author considered his work to be one of
fine art and he did not submit it for copyright protection, he had to rely on the judge’s
opinion of whether protection should be granted if copyright came under debate.
Alternatively, if the same artist declared his work to be one of industry and, for fear
of the others’ mischief, deposited it for state protection, his decision would influence
the work’s reception for years to come, tainting it with the stain of industry. To
prevent such misjudgments from happening, the articles in the Revue des arts
décoratifs strongly recommended that the same protection rights be granted to all
works, under the same copyright law, regardless of their final destination.
365

As one of the main difficulties in achieving this goal lay in the method of
production employed, the industrial/decorative object passing through several hands
before achieving full embodiment – including those of the manufacturer, of various
sculptors, the modelers, the founders, the polishers, etc. – the Union centrale and its
Revue emphasized the creative process over the process of production. Consequently,
it chose to defend the rights of the initial designer. Given the numerous hands
involved, the Revue explained, “one understands how … the public… forgets the
architecte décorateur, without realizing that it is to him that they owe the admired
work, of which he is indeed the author, and for the execution of which he played the

364
A. Champetier de Ribes, “La Propriété artistique: dessins et modèles d’art décoratif, ˮ Revue des
arts décoratifs 4 (1883-1884), p. 300.

365
Ibid., p. 300.

194
role of a conductor [chef d’orchestre].”
366
So the Revue positioned itself as an organ
of propaganda for designers, whose names, often eclipsed by those of the
manufacturers to whom they sold their designs, remained unknown to the general
public.
367

A constant presence in the pages of Champier’s Revue was that of Alexandre-
Eugène Prignot (1822-1887), one of “the most celebrated draftsmen for industry
[dessinateurs de l’industrie]” and an “unrivaled inventor of furnishings [inventeur
d’ameublements] who, always on the go,” as Victor Champier explained, “never
stopped creating works that would be fought over one day as one was fighting over
the drawings of a Meissonnier, a Lafosse, a Cauvet.”
368
Occupying a troubled
position between art and industry, like so many decorative artists of his day, Prignot
was a painter, a draftsman, and an illustrator, as well as an architect, a decorator and a
designer of interiors at the same time.
369
He collaborated with the furniture industry,
designing furniture pieces most notably for the British firm of Jackson and Graham in
London and Fourdinois in Paris.
370
Produced by no less than thirty-nine specialized
workers, a grand cabinet in the Louis XIV style designed by Prignot was exhibited by

366
Victor Champier, “Les Artistes de l'industrie – Constant Sévin,” Révue des arts décoratifs (1888-
1889), p. 166.

367
Gustave Geffroy, “Chronique artistique: La Revue des arts décoratifs,” Justice (November 1891).

368
Victor Champier, “Le Salon des arts décoratifs,” Revue des arts décoartifs 3 (1882-1883), p. 325.
While Olivier Gabet dates Prignot’s death in 1885, the artist’s Légion d’honneur file firmly establishes
it in 1887. I am thankful to Aurélie Erlich for having brought this document to my attention.
369
See Thieme and Becker, Allgemeines Lexikon der bildenden Künstler, p. 401, and Bénézit,
Dictionnaire critique et documentaire, p. 250.

370
Gabet, “Le XIX Siècle,” p. 13.

195
Jackson and Graham at the Paris Exposition universelle of 1855.
371
Bought by the
South Kensington Museum right from the exhibition, the cabinet can still be seen in
the galleries of the Victoria and Albert Museum in London.
While many of his furniture designs materialized in this way, many more
circulated via the printed medium as illustrations in compilations of interior
decoration designs and furniture pattern books. But like his student G. Félix Lenoir,
Prignot seemed more concerned with the artistic effects of his printed compositiona
than with the designs’ reproducibility as real environments. Thus, for example, the
two volumes of L’Ameublement moderne published in 1876 and, respectively, 1878
by Charles Claesen included furniture designs by Prignot. Among others, these
albums also featured designs by Prignot’s student, G. Félix Lenoir, the sculptor and
draftsman Michel-Joseph-Napoléon Liénard (1810-1870), and by the architect,
engraver, and owner and director of the illustrated journal L’Ornementation usuelle
de toutes les époques Rodolphe Pfnor (1824-1909).
372
If Pfnor showed at numerous
Salons, especially in the architecture section, and published monographs of
aristocratic residences such as the Palais de Fontainebleu, the Châteaux d'Anet, the

371
Ibid. According to Gabet, other artsits such as Owen Jones, Bruce Talbert and Christopher Dresser
also worked for Jackson and Graham, which extended its operations in all directions related to the
decoration of interiors, upholstery included.

372
See Charles Claesen, ed., L’Ameublement moderne par MM. Prignot, Liénard, Coignet et plusieurs
autres artistes spéciaux, vol. 1 (Paris: C. Claesen, Librairie spéciale des arts industriels et décoratifs,
1876) and Charles Claesen, ed., L’Ameublement moderne par MM. E. Prignot, Morand, Pfnor et Billet,
plus une suite de meubles empruntés à l’Exposition de 1878 et exposés par MM. Damon-Namur & Cie,
Gueret, Raulin, Sormani, Quignot, Pelcot et Louveau, Ribal, vol. 2 (Paris: Ch. Claesen, 1878).
Published between 1866 and 1868, Pfnor’s publication, L’Ornementation usuelle de toutes les époques
dans les arts industriels et en architecture, professed to be an organ for the artist and designer rather
than the amateur collector.

196
Châteaux de Heidelberg, and the castle at Vaux-le-Vicomte, Liénard worked for
furniture manufacturers such as Roll, Janselme, Grohé, and Auguste Ringuet-
Leprince, while also publishing many of his designs.
373
Prignot was the only one to
have contributed designs to both volumes of Claesen’s publication, including a Louis
XIII Library [Bibliothèque style Louis XIII], a Louis XVI Dresser [Buffet style Louis
XVI], and a Renaissance Cupboard with Mirrors [Armoire à glace style Renaissance]
in the same publication. Like Liénard and Pfnor, Prignot propagated his designs
through books and illustrated magazines, collaborated with furniture manufacturers,
and exhibited at official Salons. He was thus part of a group of people who were
involved in many things at once, who transgressed barriers, and who mainly came
together under the banner of the decorative arts.
Very likely involved in the interior decoration of the Château de Courancy,
Château de Metz, and the Théâtre du Châtelet among others, Prignot also was an

373
See Rodolphe Pfnor, Guide artistique & historique au Palais de Fontainebleau (Paris: André, Daly,
1889); Rodolphe Pfnor, Monographie du Château d’Anet, construit par Philibert de l’Orme en
MDXLVIII, dessinée, gravée et accompagnée d’un texte historique & descriptif (Paris: L’auteur, 1867);
Rodolphe Pfnor, Monographie du Château de Heidelberg, accompagne d’un texte historique et
descriptif par Daniel Ramée (Paris: A. Morel et Cie, [1859]); Rodolphe Pfnor, Monographie du palais
de Fontainebleau, accompagnée d’un texte historique et descriptif par M. Champollion-Figeac (Paris,
A. Morel et Cie, 1860-1885); and Rodolphe Pfnor, Le Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte …accompagné
d'un texte historique et descriptif par Anatole France (Paris: Lemercier et Cie, 1888). Originally from
Darmstadt, Pfnor exhibited at the Paris Salons starting with 1853, where he showed, in the
Architecture section, two engravings of the Fountain in the Louvois square and the Fountain in the St-
Sulpice square in Paris after Visconti. For more information on Pfnor see Emmanuel Bénézit,
Dictionnaire des peintres, sculpteurs, dessinateurs, et graveurs (Paris: Éditions Gründ, 1999), p. 841.
Also see Pierre Sanchez and Xavier Seydoux, eds., Les Catalogues des Salons, vol. VI (1852-1857)
(Dijon: L’échelle de Jacob, 2002). Some of Liénard’s publications included Michel Liénard,
Spécimens de la décoration et de l'ornementation au XIXe siècle (Liège: Librairie spéciale des arts
industriels et décoratifs, Ch. Claesen, 1866) and Les Ornemanistes du XIXe siècle. Compositions
d'ornements par Feuchère, Liénard, etc. (Paris: Ducher et Cie, s.d.). Claesen’s L’Ameublement
moderne included Liénard’s designs posthumously. For more information on Liénard see the
unpublished thesis of Sophie Derrot, “Michel Liénard, L'ornement du XIXe siècle” (École nationale de
Chartes, 2008).

197
interior designer.
374
In 1883, he served as the choreographer of the pavilion put
together by the Union centrale des arts décoratifs at the universal exhibition in
Amsterdam.
375
(Fig. 3.8) As reported by the Revue des arts décoratifs, Prignot
contributed a valance embroidered in gold on a dark red background next to a
window curtain by Henri Fourdinois, a lion and a lioness in galvanic bronze by
Christofle (seen at the entrance of the pavilion), as well as other furniture pieces and
decorative objects by the furniture-makers and interior decorators Poirier, Beurdeley,
and Damon.
376
Together with various Parisian manufacturers, Prignot thus conceived
and realized a coherent architectural interior, displayed like a small temple in the
middle of the French section at the 1883 exhibition.
377


374
Prignot has, indeed, created designs for these interiors, as shown in the three albums of original
drawings conserved at the Musée des arts décoratifs under the call number CD6498.

375
Victor Champier, “Le Pavillon de la commission française organisé par l’Union centrale à
l’Exposition d’Amsterdam, ˮ Revue des arts décoratifs 4 (1883-1884), pp. 65-100.

376
Ibid. Unlike the Maison Fourdinois, which specialized in furniture and interior decoration, the
Maison Christofle primarily offered bronze decorations and silverware. For more information on the
Maison Fourdinois, Gabet, “Sources et modèles d’un ébéniste,” pp. 261-279. For more information on
Christofle, see Turgan, “Orfévrerie Christofle,” in Les Grandes usines de France: Tableau de
l'industrie française au XIXe siècle (Paris: Librairie Nouvelle, 1860). Poirier fils was a Parisian
upholsterer, furniture maker, and draftsman, who worked from ca. 1840s to 1890s. His associate, P.H.
Rémon, continued to work into the 1900s. See Denise Ledoux-Lebard, Les Ébénistes du XIXe siècle,
1795-1889: Leurs œuvres et leurs marques (Paris: Les éditions de l’Amateur, 1984), pp. 526-528. The
drawings conserved at the Musée des arts décoratifs in Paris are signed by P.H. Rémon and not “P.H.
Rémond,” as Ledoux-Lebard suggests. Alfred-Emmanuel-Louis Beurdeley (1847-1919) continued the
furniture-making enterprise of his father, Louis-Auguste-Alfred Beurdeley (1808-1882), until 1895. He
specialized in luxury furniture rigorously copied after originals housed by the Garde-meuble national.
See Ledoux-Lebard, Les Ébénistes du XIXe siècle, p. 80. Alfred-Eugène Damon inherited the
successful furniture and upholstery enterprise of Antoine Krieger (1804-1869). Between 1880 and
1900, the enterprise was called Colin, Damon et Cie. For more information on Krieger and Damon, see
Brigitte Lainé, “Antoine Krieger, ébéniste (1804-1869): Postérité et clientele,” Bulletin de la Société de
l’histoire de l’art français (2003), pp. 283-302.

377
Champier, “Le Pavillon de la commission française,” p. 88.

198
Throughout his career as a decorator and designer, Prignot also collaborated
with furniture manufacturers to put together pattern books for complete interiors. In
about 1872, he published designs right next to some authored by Henri-Auguste
Fourdinois (1830-1907) or Jean-Paul Mazaroz (1823-before 1900), two of the most
renowned Parisian cabinetmakers at the time, as part of Désiré Guilmard’s pattern
book titled La Décoration au XIXe siècle: Décor intérieur des habitations.
378
If, for
example, Mazaroz showed a Hunting Salon (Fig. 3.9) adorned with appropriate
paraphernalia, including falcons, dogs, weapons, and pray, Prignot contributed a
Louis XV Salon (Fig. 3.10) that displayed the contorted features and shell-like
ornaments of the style rocaille. Playful putti adorned the panels above the doors in the
manner characteristic of the Rococo, and a painting in the style of François Boucher’s
lighthearted love-scenes hung on the left wall. Taking great care to accurately render
the proposed interior, Prignot included such details as the reflection of light passing
through the curtains on the floor and the walls, as well as the mirrored reflections of
the wall paneling and bay curtains within the room. Unlike Mazaroz’s Hunting Salon,
which focused on details, Prignot’s Salon Louis XV strove to encompass the general
effect of a room in its three-dimensionality. Prignot, too, was producing interior
landscape designs and popularizing them via the medium of the book. This is not to

378
Désiré Guilmard, ed., La Décoration au XIXe siècle: Décor intérieur des habitations, composé,
dessiné où exécuté par les principaux artistes décorateurs de Paris (Paris: Au Bureau du Journal Le
Garde Meuble, [ca. 1872]). Henri-August Fourdinois inherited the furniture-making and interior
decorating firm of his father, Alexandre-Georges Fourdinois (1799-1871). For more information on
Alexandre-Georges and Henri-Fourdinois see Ledoux-Lebard, Les Ébénistes du XIXe siècle, pp. 203-
208. For more information on Jean-Paul Mazaroz and the furniture firm that he operated together with
Pierre Riballier, see Ledoux-Lebard, Les Ébénistes du XIXe siècle, p. 477. Also see Turgan, “Fabrique
d'ameublements en bois massif.”

199
say that he was not capable of producing very detailed and clear designs, which could
easily translate into genuine interiors. In fact, in this very same publication, he
contributed a design for a fireplace in the style of the Renaissance for a dining-room.
(Fig. 3.11) Complete with patterned wall paper, a painted panel, ornamental pottery
and sculpture, as well as an inlayed clock and two chairs, this project was so detailed
that it could be used as a guide in the production of every single element that
composed it.
Despite his involvement with and immersion within the world of the
decorative arts, pejoratively called “industrial,” “applied,” “craft,” “domestic,”
“useful,” “minor,” “necessary,” or “mechanical” throughout most of the nineteenth
century, Alexandre-Eugène Prignot also exhibited works at the official Salons
dedicated to the “fine” arts.
379
Most notably, in 1866, he showed two wall elevations
for a Louis XIV Salon and a Louis XIV Bedroom, titled Projet de décoration d’un
salon dans le style du règne de Louis XIV – Élévation and Projet de decoration d’une
chamber à coucher d’apparat; style de la fin du règne de Louis XIV – Élévation d’un
côté, in the architecture section of the Paris Salon.
380
His contribution brought him
critics’ appreciation, who praised Prignot for his talent.
381
Side-stepping the system,

379
For a list of these terms see David Irwin, “Art versus Design: The Debate 1760-1860,” Journal of
Design History 4:4 (1991), p. 219.

380
Explication des ouvrages de peinture, sculpture, architecture, gravure et lithographie des artistes
vivants, des envois des pensionnaires de l’Académie de France à Rome et des grands prix de 1865
exposés au Palais des Champs-Élysées le 1er mai 1866 (Paris: Charles de Mourgues Frères,
successeurs de Vinchon, imprimeurs des musées impériaux, 1866), p. 408.

381
See Jules Bouchet,“Salon de 1866 – Architecture,” Revue générale de l’architecture et des travaux
publics 24 (1866), 27.

200
which did not allow for the applied arts to be shown next to paintings and sculptures,
Prignot added his name to the more amorphous section of architecture, although not
an architect by training.
382
His name thus stood next to those of widely recognized
painters and sculptors such as Jean-Léon Gérôme, who showed two paintings at the
same exhibition.
383

In addition to exhibiting interior decoration designs at such Salons as the one
in 1866, Prignot also contributed drawings to various universal and decorative arts
exhibitions. Thus, in 1867, he obtained the gold medal at the Paris Exposition
universelle for a series of furniture drawings exhibited in the room dedicated to the
so-called “liberal arts,” while in 1878 he obtained the gold medal once more, for a
similar display.
384
If, in 1865, he supervised the interior décor of the second
exhibition of the Union centrale, in 1882 he lent the Union centrale no fewer than
fifty drawings and watercolors from his portfolio hors concours for their seventh
exhibition.
385
As the Revue des arts décoratifs reported, Prignot did not hesitate to
replace geometric presentations with perspectival watercolors, which, endowed with


382
The choice of drawing as a medium for the presentation of his work might not have been purely
coincidental for Prignot, or determined by the restrictions set forth by the Academy. He might also
have chosen drawing as a preferred medium in light of the contemporary debates carried on at the time
regarding the importance of drawing in artistic education – debates which culminated thirteen years
later, in 1879, with the institution of mandatory drawing in primary schools. For more information on
the status of drawing at the time, see Rosella Froissart-Pezone, “L’École à la recherche d’une identité.”

383
Gérôme’s paintings were Cléopâtre et César and Porte de la mosque El-Assaneyn au Caire, ou
furent exposées les têtes des beys immolés par Salek-Kachef. See the Explication des ouvrages de
peinture, sculpture, architecture…, p. 100.

384
Gabet, Ornemanistes, p. 11.

385
Racinet, “7e exposition,”p. 178.

201
figures intended to suggest scale, represented “splendid and realistic interiors from all
points of view.”
386
Through such means, Prignot was reported to “delight in
representations worthy of the most skilled painter.”
387
In the tradition of famous
painters of the Renaissance, the artist was seconded by his students, who also
contributed to the creation of their master’s designs.
388
From interiors in the style of
the Renaissance to those in the styles of the seventeenth and the eighteenth centuries,
the works of Prignot and his workshop were thus extremely successful, blurring the
boundaries between the “high” and the “decorative” arts.
389

But it was because of their reproduction in mass-produced publications that
interior decoration designs by Prignot won the admiration of the general public in the
nineteenth century.
390
Prignot was one of the first decorators to widely espouse the
medium of the book, which he later almost enforced on his students as well. Starting
as early as 1869, and for a period of about sixteen years, Prignot contributed designs
to at least fifteen publications. Providing models of furniture and interior design at a
rate of about one publication per year (without considering the numerous reprints that

386
Ibid., p. 179.

387
Ibid., p. 179.

388
Ibid., p. 180. Racinet mentions Charles Houdard and Henri Rémon (possibly a brother of Georges
Rémon) as two of the students who helped Prignot with the works displayed in 1882.

389
Ibid., p. 179.

390
Beatriz Colomina has shown with regards to twentieth-century mass media that it was due to mass-
produced publications that modern architecture had come into existence. See Beatriz Colomina,
Privacy and Publicity: Modern Architecture as Mass Media (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1994), p.
14. I contend that it was because of their reproduction in mass-produced publications that artistic
interior decoration designs won the admiration of the French public in the nineteenth century, a public
which sustained them and ensured their survival and success, as well as that of their creators.

202
followed), Prignot was a prolific designer. Indeed, with the appearance of
photography on the market for art reproduction at the time, artists and decorators such
as Prignot seized the opportunity to see their works circulate widely without the
interference of another’s hand. If early illustrated books employed woodcut
illustrations, copperplate images or wood engravings, by 1870 it was possible to use
photography to reproduce drawings.
391

Thus, in an 1869 publication titled Décors intérieurs, Prignot had fifty of his
drawings reproduced by the workshop of Alexandre Martin, Photographie des
sciences & des arts.
392
Available at the price of one hundred and fifty francs, such an
album contained tipped-in photographs of interiors drawn by Prignot, with each page
carefully stamped by Martin’s workshop to attest the originality of the entire
document. (Fig. 3.12) Underneath each of these photographs, Prignot appears to have
carefully hand-signed his name, thus bringing even more credibility and, possibly,
monetary value to the undertaking.
393
In this way, all of the images in the album
could be counted as “originals,” since the hand of the artist was faithfully reproduced
through advanced processes of reproduction. If, with the arrival of the twentieth

391
See Rob Banham, “The Industrialization of the Book 1800-1970,” in Simon Eliot and Jonathan
Rose, eds., A Companion to the History of the Book (Oxford: Blackwell, 2007), pp. 275-287.

392
Eugène Prignot, Décors intérieurs composés et dessinés par E. Prignot, photographié par A. Martin
(Paris: Chez Ph. Collier, 1869).

393
According to Banham, the “first role of photography in books was simply as tipped-in illustrations.”
Since “halftones printed better on coated or ‘art’ papers, which were not suitable for printing text by
letterpresses,” he explains, “most books featuring halftone reproductions had them printed on different
paper from the text paper to form a discrete section of the book, usually at the back or in the center. As
the quality of reproduction improved, more ‘integrated’ books were produced where the text and
halftones were placed together on the pages.” See Banham, “The Industrialization of the Book,” pp.
286-287.

203
century, scholars began to criticize photography for breaking the aura of an "original"
work of art, during the nineteenth century many praised the medium for the very
same effects. The prospective buyer would thus come to be in the possession of not
one but fifty “original” designs by Prignot. From wall treatments and window
curtains to furniture pieces (Fig. 3.13), door patterns, ceilings (Fig. 3.14) and whole-
room compositions (Fig. 3.15), Décors intérieurs could function both as a didactic
manual for other decorators and as a source of inspiration for those buyers desiring to
redo their private interiors. At the same time, given the images’ close resemblance to
the original drawings, the book might have been intended as a collectible for those
who admired the artist’s work but could not afford a furniture piece or an entire room
created in his vision. Even more so than furniture objects, such images captured the
designer’s hand directly, without the involvement of other craftsmen or
manufacturers, who would undoubtedly have intervened in the creation of the final
product.
A ca. 1873 publication by Prignot titled L’Architecture, la décoration,
l’ameublement also took advantage of the innovations brought by the photo-
mechanical printing processes of the mid-1870s.
394
The publisher dutifully noted the
close resemblance between the book’s illustrations and the artist’s original
compositions. To achieve the faithful reproduction of Prignot’s drawings, both

394
Eugène Prignot, L’Architecture, la décoration, l’ameublement (Paris: Ch. Claesen, [1873]). For a
description of the new advances in reproduction techniques at the time, see Phillip Dennis Cate, Gale
B. Murray, and Richard Thomson, Prints Abound: Paris in the 1890s: From the Collections of
Virginia and Ira Jackson and the National Gallery of Art (Washington, D.C.: National Gallery of Art,
etc., 2000) and Phillip Dennis Cate, Sinclair Hitchings, and André Mellerio, The Color Revolution:
Color Lithography in France, 1890-1900 (Santa Barbara: P. Smith, 1978).

204
photography and phototypie had been employed, two mechanical reproductive
processes that produced “unmediated” replicas of the original drawings.
395
Thus, for
the price of 150 francs or 175 francs, respectively, depending on the process of
reproduction employed, the buyer could own not one but sixty works of art made by
Alexandre-Eugène Prignot.
396
Through the use of such reproductive processes and the
emphasis on the end-product’s resemblance to the objects made directly by the
designer’s hand, the publisher insinuated that the public regard such reproductions as
replacements of original artworks and treat them accordingly.
The layout of the book confirms this. Although the avowed aim of
L’Architecture, la décoration, l’ameublement was to provide complete interior
ensembles that could guide the architect, the decorator, the cabinetmaker and the
upholsterer, as well as the public at large in the creation of artistic mise-en-scènes for
private apartments, thus including among its pages decorative schemes for interiors in
the Renaissance, Louis XIII, Louis XIV, Louis XV, Louis XVI, Pompeian and Arabic
styles, the book belied its intentions through the organizational principle that it
followed.
397
The plates related to an interior of a particular style did not immediately
follow each other. If one desired to get an idea of how a Renaissance hallway should

395
See Prignot, L’Architecture, la décoration, l’ameublement. The original quote reads: “In order to
maintain the greatest accuracy of reproduction for the sixty drawings by Mr. E. Prignot, the phototypie
has been used.”

396
See Claesen, Catalogue général. Thus, we find out that 1 vol. in-folio of 60 photographic plates by
Prignot would have cost 150 francs, while 1 vol. in-folio of 60 plates in phototypie would have cost
175 francs.

397
Ibid.

205
look, one had to jump from image no. 18 (Fig. 3.16), which showed the fireplace, to
image no. 20 (Fig. 3.17), which showed the wall elevations on both sides of the main
door, to image no. 23 (Fig. 3.18), the cabinet, and finally to image no. 24 (Fig. 3.19),
an ornamental fountain that completed the interior. Interspersed among these
illustrations were images of interiors done in other styles, such a Louis XVI hallway
in figures no. 19, 21 and 22, thus blurring the boundaries between the styles of the
sixteenth and the eighteenth century in a consistent way.
One could argue that, given the format of the album, which often came as a
set of unbound pages, as was customary at the time, the reader could have switched
the order of images in a way that followed their grouping by rooms and styles.
However, the table of contents, as well as the careful identification of each image
through a number written in the lower-right-hand-side, imposed a pre-ordained
arrangement of these illustrations from the very beginning, thus not allowing the
viewer freely to play with the sequence of pages. Moreover, the wall paneling of the
four walls depicted as part of the Renaissance hallway does not match (see Figs. 16-
19). Rather than representing concrete unified room ensembles, Prignot’s designs
offered suggestions as to the kinds of elements one could select for one’s interiors;
and not examples of interiors per se to be followed literally in the decoration of one’s
home. The reader had to choose between the various Renaissance patterns provided,
and then mix and match the different decorative elements in order to stay within the
desired style. By toying with the order of images, I would like to suggest that the
publication promoted the individual illustrations as artistic objects to be considered

206
on their own and not just as means to an end – namely, the creation of a unified
interior décor.
But Alexandre-Eugène Prignot’s contribution to the field of published interior
designs did not end with pattern books. Throughout his career, he collaborated with
Désiré Guilmard’s decorative journal Le Garde-meuble, to which he contributed
several designs in both the Upholstering and the Furniture sections. Thus, in 1877
Guilmard published an Henri II Bedroom (Fig. 3.20) and an Henri II Salon (Fig.
3.21) signed by Prignot.
398
In the manner well-established by Guilmard’s journal,
each plate listed the houses where the buyer could obtain the various materials
necessary for the creation of such rooms. Thus the fabrics were available at the
Maison Bernier-Boyer et Cie Srs, the ornaments at the Maison L. Noury et Hediard,
and the trimmings at the Maison Deforge et Cie. Lithographed by Midart and printed
by the Imprimerie Becquet in Paris, Guilmard’s plates were intended as guides to be
followed in the creation of proper interiors. For this very same reason, the editor
included among his proposed designs more specific furniture patterns by Prignot. In
addition to whole-room designs, the decorator also contributed illustrations of
cabinets, tables, beds and dressing tables, such as the Henri II cabinet of the same
year.
399
(Fig. 3.22) At the price of 50 centimes in black and white or 80 centimes if

398
Désiré Guilmard, ed., “Chambre à coucher, Henri II,” Le Garde-meuble: Collection de tentures 228
(plate 672) (Paris: Au bureau du journal Le Garde-meuble, 1877) and Désiré Guilmard, ed., “Fond de
Salon Henri II,” Le Garde-meuble: Collection de tentures 231 (plate 681) (Paris: Au bureau du journal
Le Garde-meuble, 1877).

399
Désiré Guilmard, ed., “Meuble Henri II,” Le Garde-meuble: Collection de meubles 231 (plate 1372)
(Paris: Au bureau du journal Le Garde-meuble, 1877).

207
hand-colored, one could purchase such a plate for one’s personal use or viewing
pleasure.
400

If the furniture plates of the journal were straight-forward models for various
home furnishings, drawn to scale, and thus easily adaptable to any interior, the
illustrations in the upholstering section were often more artistic. As proven by
Prignot’s Henri II Salon, the artist had taken great care to render each furniture object
proportionally so as to give a realistic representation of the room imagined. When in
color, one can only imagine the effect Prignot’s plates would have achieved. Take, for
example, a Garde-meuble image of an interior in black and white by Guilmard and of
the same interior (even though not by Prignot) in color.
401
(Fig. 3.23 and Fig. 3.24) In
this way, Prignot’s designs for Le Garde-meuble resembled the paintings and
watercolors that members of the upper-classes commissioned of and for their private
interiors. As shown in James Roberts’s 1848 watercolor titled Queen’s Sitting Room,
(Fig. 3.25) a similar concern for the accurate rendition of space, as well as the play of
light and dark and the juxtaposition of colors manifested in representations of private
interiors destined to the viewing pleasure of the upper classes. Guilmard’s eighty-
centimes-designs, although less expensive, strove for similar effects; and their
success, as proven by the journal’s long period of existence of almost one hundred
years (1839-1935) may well have been due to this same reason.
402
By providing

400
Van Allen Schaffner, “Désiré Guilmard.”

401
Désiré Guilmard, ed., “Intérieur de cabinet de travail d’amateur,” Le Garde-meuble ancien et
moderne: Collection de tentures 114 (plate 330) (Paris: Au bureau du journal Le Garde-meuble, 1858).

402
Tolede, “Guilmard, Désiré.”

208
designs to such magazines as Désiré Guilmard’s Le Garde-meuble, Alexandre-
Eugène Prignot, therefore, reached an audience high and low very easily – not just
through his exhibits at various national and international exhibitions but especially
through his contributions to the medium of mass publications.
Indeed, beginning with the early years of the Third Republic, France
witnessed the development of a new culture of book collecting that centered on
expensive, luxury editions of works illustrated by renowned artists.
403
Editors and
artists picked up on this market, while also catering to the public at large through
cheaper editions of similar works. As historian Willa Silverman argues, rather than
creating an uncrossable divide between the industrial and the luxury book trade, new
technologies allowed for significant cross-overs between the two, with publishers
often supplementing collectors’ editions with larger, commercial editions with more
profits destined for a mass market.
404
Whether luxury or popular editions, books were
collected as works of art or bibelots, and publishers seeking profit made sure that
their products were available to many of those desirous to own them.
405

Prignot’s desire to cater to all social classes and to make his designs available
to many is also reflected in his ca. 1882 contribution to a small-format publication


403
Silverman, The New Bibliopolis, p. 5.

404
Ibid., pp. 8-10. Unlike Bourdieu, who sees mass and restricted production in opposition, making a
clear separation between popular and elite culture, Silverman argues that the Third Republic book
trade provides “a novel perspective on how elite and mass culture interacted during this period.” Also
see Pierre Bourdieu, The Field of Cultural Production: Essays on Art and Literature (New York:
Columbia University Press, 1993).

405
Ibid., p. 11. Silverman mentions that artists such as Camille and Lucien Pissarro regarded books as
works of art, while writers such as Henri Beraldi considered book-collecting a form of bibelotage.

209
titled Carnet du tapissier moderne.
406
Including such small-scale illustrations as a
Gothic Door-Curtain [Portière, genre gothique] (Fig. 3.26) and a Modern Window-
Curtain for a Hallway [Croisée pour vestibule, genre moderne] (Fig. 3.27), the
Carnet du tapissier moderne reproduced images from an earlier publication of
interior designs by Prignot titled La Tenture moderne ([ca. 1878-1882]).
407
To such
an illustration as the Gothic Door-Curtian in the Carnet du tapissier moderne (Fig.
3.26) corresponded a similar image in La Tenture moderne. (Fig. 3.28) Similarly, the
Modern Window-Curtain for a Hallway also had an earlier version. (Fig. 3.29) To
simplify Prignot’s designs and make them more easily reproducible and thus
available at a cheaper price, the publisher eliminated all background décor from the
new publication. One could no longer differentiate between a window and a door
curtain design, would it not be for the titles which specified which was what.
However, by resorting to such tricks, he was able to reduce the cost of Prignot’s
illustrations to no more than 0.29 centimes per page or 10 francs for the entire
volume, thus opening up the artist’s work to a public larger than ever.
408
Moreover,
given the widespread network of Charles Claesen’s publishing house, which edited
both these volumes and which had offices in Liège, Paris, Brussels and Berlin, and

406
Ch. Claesen, ed., Carnet du Tapissier Moderne: Garnitures de fenêtres, portes & lambrequins, vol.
1 (Liège and Paris: Librairie spéciale des arts industriels et décoratifs, Ch. Claesen, [1882]).

407
Eugène Prignot, La Tenture moderne (Liège, Paris and Berlin: C. Claesen, [1878-1882]. The book
was published after 1878, when Prignot was awarded a rappel de la médaille d’or at the Paris
Exposition universelle, and before 1882, when Clasen already listed three volumes out of the four in
his Catalogue général.

408
Claesen, Catalogue général, p. 6.

210
made its catalogs available to an English and Spanish-speaking audience as well,
Prignot opened up his portfolio to foreign audiences, thus becoming a well-known
name in the field of decorative arts worldwide at the time.
Considered one of the masters of nineteenth-century industrial arts together
with the architect and designer Emile Auguste Reiber (1826-1893), the editor of L’Art
pour tous and the chief of the design studio at the Maison Christofle and the designer
Louis-Constant Sévin (1821-1888), the art director of the Maison Barbedienne,
Prignot was thus an “enduring” and “impeccable” dessinateur, as well as a model for
a generation of artists whom he carefully trained and advocated for.
409
As an 1885
letter to the editor of La Revue des arts décoratifs testifies, Prignot also took an active
interest in seeing his students’ works popularized in various books and journals. He
intervened directly with editors and publishers in order to see their works made
available to a large public.
410
He thus encouraged the use of mass-produced
illustrations as a medium to popularize one’s works, as much as he had encouraged
display at various Salons and industrial or universal exhibitions. In 1891, when
writing about the display of paintings, watercolors, drawings and models shown as

409
Victor Champier, “Le mobilier moderne,” Extrait de Les Arts du bois, des tissus et du papier à la 7e
exposition de l'Union Centrale des Arts Décoratifs (Paris: A. Quantin, [1882]), p. 388. It was
customary at the time for each furniture and interior decorating establishment to have a so-called
“house-artist.” The Maison Krieger employed Alexandre Sandier, while the British firm of Howard &
Sons employed W.F. Randall.

410
See Prignot’s letter dated February 17, 1885 to Victor Champier (archives of the Getty Research
Instiute). Here, the artist recommended one of his female students to Champier, asking him to
reproduce her work in the pages of the Revue des arts décoratifs. He confessed that he had previously
tried to get her work published with other Parisian publishers, including Quantin and Hachette, but to
no avail. Having her works published in the Revue des arts décoratifs, Prignot thought, would be a
great encouragement to his student.

211
part of the upholsterer and decorator’s section at the 1889 Exposition universelle,
Legriel praised the contributions of Prignot’s students, including G. Félix Lenoir,
Georges Rémon, and Fernand Lamotte. But he also applauded these artists’
publications, which opened up their art to more people than any exhibition ever
could.
411
Legriel specifically mentioned the published works of Lenoir and Rémon,
emphasizing how, through such publications, these two continued the work
commenced by their master.
412

Indeed, both a student and nephew of Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, Georges
Rémon adopted the title “successor of E. Prignot” when he published his book of ca.
1892, Intérieurs d’appartements modernes.
413
An architecte décorateur, Rémon had
achieved wide public recognition by 1900, when, together with Henri Rémon,
possibly his brother, he became the official decorator of the Musée Centennal du
mobilier et de la decoration of groups 66 (décoration fixe), 69 (meubles), 70 (tapis),
71 (décoration mobile), 97 (bronzes) at the Exposition universelle.
414
Charged with
creating the historically-accurate décors for the various period rooms installed
therein, including the wallpaper and wall decoration, Rémon’s work added coherence
to some of the most appreciated decorative art objects of nineteenth-century France at
the time. Thus, for example, next to original objects that came from both private and

411
Legriel, “Groupe 3,” p. 42.

412
Ibid.

413
Rémon, Intérieurs d'appartements modernes.

414
Le Corbeiller, Musée Centennal.

212
public collections as established by the installation committee, including the Garde-
meuble nationale, Georges Rémon and his workshop contributed painted panels for
the Pièce Directoire, which were designed to give the room its octagonal shape and
aesthetic coherence.
415
(Fig. 3.30) Using archival evidence provided by the
committee, the decorator strove to give an accurate feeling of a late eighteenth-
century interior, half Louis XVI, half Pompeian, and his endeavors were widely
acclaimed both by critics and the general public alike, who turned these exhibits into
a great success.
416

No stranger to universal exhibitions, where in 1889 he had exhibited next to
Lenoir no fewer than twenty drawings and watercolors of interior designs lined-up on
four panels, Georges Rémon had impressed through his ability to pass from one style
to another, be it of historic or exotic inspiration.
417
If in the period rooms of the 1900
Musée Centennal he showed his versatility at creating rooms in the style of the more
recent past, first in an interior Louis XVI, then in an interior Directoire, followed by
an Empire, Louis-Philippe, and a salon Napoléon III, in 1889 Rémon had dedicated
himself to the art of more ancient epochs and foreign lands, creating what the
president of the Chambre syndicale des tapissier-décorateurs had called “interior
dreamscapes” (intérieurs révâbles).
418
Possibly exhibiting there the Salon de musique,

415
Under the presidency of François Carnot, the installation committee included Maurice Le
Corbeiller, Henry Tenré, Alfred Beurdeley, Henri Cain, Georges Saint-Paul, and Charles Mannheim.

416
Le Corbeiller, Musée Centennal, p. 42.

417
Legriel, “Groupe 3,” p. 46.

418
Ibid.

213
Louis XV (Fig. 3.31) and the Louis XIII bedroom (Fig. 3.32) also reproduced in his ca.
1892 publication, Intérieurs d’appartements modernes, the artist was praised as a
worthy successor to his teacher, Eugène Prignot.
419
In 1891, he was awarded the first
prize for a dining-room project at a contest organized by the Union centrale.
420

Contributing to more than a dozen books throughout his career, Rémon
impresses even today by virtue of his picturesque interior views and skillful use of
color. The Librairie speciale d’architecture, E. Thézard Fils, which edited Rémon’s
Intérieurs d’appartements modernes (ca. 1892), as well as his Peinture decorative
(ca. 1900) and La décoration de style (ca. 1900), chose to exhibit these books as proof
of its technical achievement.
421
The first of these publications was part of Thézard
Fils’ display both at the 1893 Universal exhibition in Chicago and at the 1900 Paris
Exposition universelle.
422
If the book excelled through such “interior dreamscapes” as
the red and white Salon Régence, which, through its use of flowing drapery, reminded
of theatrical décor (Fig. 3.33), it also stood out through its attempts at historical
accuracy in such interiors as its Salle à manger gothique. (Fig. 3.34) Paying attention


419
Ibid.

420
Galerie Nationale du Grand Palais, Nabis: Bonnard, Vuillard, Maurice Denis, Vallotton (1888-
1900), 25 sept. 1993-3 janvier 1994, exhibition catalogue (Paris: Réunion des musées nationaux,
1993).

421
The Librairie speciale d’architecture, E. Thézard Fils was founded in 1868 by the father of E.
Thézard, and it focused primarily on works pertinent to architecture, decoration, and furniture. See La
Librairie, l’édition musicale, la presse, la reliure, l’affiche à l’Exposition universelle de 1900. Recueil
précédé d’une notice historique par Lucien Layus (Paris: Au Cercle de la Librairie, 1900).

422
See Krantz, Rapports sur l’Exposition internationale de Chicago en 1893 and La Librairie,
l’édition musicale.

214
to the realities of the epoch represented, Rémon replaced in his medieval dining-room
the painted wood paneling and stucco moldings of a Regency interior with wall
tapestries and an exposed-beams ceiling characteristic of the middle ages.
Undoubtedly finding his inspiration in the series of tapestries of the Lady and the
Unicorn (possibly in a combination of the Touch and Taste panels), both then and
today in the collection of the Musée de Cluny (Fig. 3.35), the artist lined the walls
with red and green wall-hangings, which he then used as the backbone for his
medieval room’s color scheme.
423
Thus, besides historical accuracy and theatrical
décor, the use of color became one other important element in such works.
Beginning with the extensive use of chromolithography in the 1870s, the work
of artists such as Rémon could be almost literally transposed from canvas to paper,
and the multiplication of genuine-looking interior designs through the printed
medium of the book reached its apogee. If mass-produced images of interiors had
previously been inspired by and sometimes directly quoted paintings and watercolors,
now they could also look like them. Once color did not have to be manually added
anymore, colorful designs of room settings could penetrate the homes of the middle
and even the lower classes, and, like other types of commercial art developed at the
time, such as chromolithographic posters, could be used as stand-ins for real
paintings. Through style and technical devices such as color lithography, the language
of the “high art” of painting also permeated mass-produced interior decoration

423
The Lady and the Unicorn tapestry was discovered in 1841 by Prosper Mérimée in the Boussac
castle and it was purchased in 1882 by Edmond Du Sommerard for the Musée de Cluny. See
http://www.musee-moyenage.fr/ang/homes/home_id20393_u1l2.htm (visited July 10, 2010).

215
designs. For example, Georges Rémon’s Intérieurs d'appartements modernes also
included a Moorish interior. (Fig. 3.36) When comparing Rémon’s interior design
project with such works as Jean-Léon Gérôme’s (1824-1904) Femmes au bain of ca.
1876 (Fig. 3.37), one can easily see how the latter’s bathing scene could have
influenced the former’s interior designs.
Indeed, more than once, interior decorators had taken paintings as sources of
inspiration, both in terms of subject-matter and style. For example, the collection of
interior designs edited by Désiré Guilmard, La Décoration au XIX siècle (ca. 1872),
to which Alexandre-Eugenène Prignot also contributed, featured several plates very
likely inspired by popular paintings at the time. Henri Sauvestre’s bedroom in the
Greek style (Fig. 3.38) very much resembled the interiors depicted in paintings such
as Jean-Léon Gérôme’s 1859 Le Roi Candaule (Fig. 3.39), shown at the Salon of the
same year. Given the wide popularization of Gérôme’s works through prints
commercialized by the Goupil house, it is very likely that Sauvestre would have seen
a copy of Gérôme’s painting and would have had it mind when working on his
bedroom composition.
424
In fact, Sauvestre seems to have been quite familiar with the
art scene of his time. For the same collection, he also designed a bathroom in the
Greek style (Fig. 3.40), which is impossible to ignore as a reference to Jean-Auguste-
Dominique Ingres’ 1856 painting La Source. (Fig. 3.41)

424
For more information on the relationship between the Maison Goupil and the artist Jean-Léon
Gérôme see Hélène Lafont-Couturier and Pierre-Lin Renié Gérôme & Goupil: Art et entreprise (Paris:
Réunion des musées nationaux, 2001).

216
Both as works of art and as examples to be followed in the decoration of one’s
home, illustrations of room-settings thus occupy an interesting position in nineteenth-
century popular visual culture. They connected official Salon pieces and their beaux-
arts aesthetic with the private sphere of the middle classes. Through paintings such as
Cléopâtre et César (Fig. 3.42), shown at the Salon of 1866, Louis XIV et Molière
(Fig. 3.43), shown at the Salon of 1862, L’Intérieur grec. Le Gynécée (Fig. 3.44),
shown at the Salon of 1850, or the Femmes au bain (In the Harem) (Fig. 3.37),
exhibited at the Salon of 1876, artists such as Gérôme not only created imaginary
worlds on canvas, but also inspired decorative designs that would lead to the creation
of real rooms in their contemporaries’ nineteenth-century private interiors.
425
A
student of Paul Delaroche, for whom recreating the color of the epoch in his historical
paintings through interior architecture was so important that he hired the theater
decorator Diéterle (the collaborator of Cicéri) to carry out the interior decoration of
his famous canvas L’Assassinat du duc de Guise (1835) based on the Henri II rooms
at the Louvre (Fig. 3.45), Gérôme was closer to Prignot, Lenoir, and Rémon’s world
of theater and interior decoration than one might think.
426
While he is not known to

425
Exhibited by the Prince Napoléon as part of his 1856 Maison Pompéienne on the Avenue
Montagine, Le Gynécée may well have inspired the interior décor of this lavishly-decorated house. See
Frédéric Masson, J.-L. Gérôme et son œuvre (Paris: Boussod, Valadon et Cie, éditeurs, 1887), pp. 9-
10.

426
For the relationship between Delaroche and Gérôme, see Masson, J.-L. Gérôme et son œuvre, p. 6.
For the contribution of Diéterle to Delaroche’s painting see Join-Diéterle, Les Décors de scène, p. 262.

217
have designed furniture for the industry, the artist did nevertheless embrace industrial
reproduction in his sculptural work.
427

Moreover, that theater decorators had found their inspiration when creating
their stage sets for the Paris Opéra in works of art from both the present and the past,
as was the case with Séchan et Cie and Philastre et Cambon for La Péri (inspired by
the colors of Breughel and the paintings of Alexandre-Gabriel Decamps) as well as
Cicéri and Séchan et Cie for Eucharis (reflecting the style of Pierre-Narcis Guérin),
stands as testimony to the fact that the worlds of theater, of the decorator, and of
“high” art intersected in interesting ways.
428
Indeed, journals of decorative arts such
as Émile Reiber’s L’Art pour tous, had proposed old engravings as sources of
inspiration for nineteenth-century interior decoration ever since 1863. For example, in
1868, an engraving by Jan Vredeman de Vries was reproduced in the Ameublements
intérieurs section of the journal. (Fig. 3.46) According to the editor, to the artist,
“who made this engraving about the end of the XVIth century, the style of this room’s
furniture was modern; to us it is already antique.”
429
The image’s value, again, lay in
its power to show “the pieces with which a bed-room of that epoch was furnished and
the place assigned to each of them.”
430
The fact that the credence was opposite the

427
For more information on Gérôme as a sculptor, see Laurence Des Cars, Dominique de Font-Relaux,
and Edouard Papet, Jean-Leon Gérôme (Skira, 2010).

428
These comparisons have been drawn by Théophile Gautier. See Join-Diéterle, Les Décors de scène,
p. 31.

429
“XVIe siècle – École flamande – Ameublements intérieurs: Fac-simile d’une gravure de Jean
Vredeman Vries dit le Frison,” L’Art pour tous 7, no. 194 (15 January1868), p. 775.

430
Ibid.

218
door, the bed beside the fire-place and the table in front of the window was of use to
nineteenth-century decorators trying to recreate the atmosphere of that time. A strong
connection existed between the “fine” and the “decorative” or “industrial” arts at the
time. The industrial and decorative arts inevitably found their inspiration in the world
of painting. But paintings, too, often owed their subject-matter for the world of
private interiors and their decoration.
Indeed, the work of interior decorators in the second half of nineteenth-
century France thus formed an interesting category between the “high” arts of
painting, sculpture, and architecture and the “lower,” industrial arts. While their art
was accepted at official exhibitions, decorators also turned to the publishing industry
to further popularize their works. When they did participate in exhibitions, they were
not bent on frequenting just one kind of exhibition and were present everywhere,
from official Salons to decorative arts shows and universal exhibitions. Alternatively,
being connected to the publishing scene also gave them access to another kind of
exhibition venue: namely, the displays of the editors, booksellers and printers – who
competed against each other at national and international industrial shows and
displayed their products as works of technical achievement. Their competition or
cooperation also benefited the decorators who contributed designs to their works.
Beginning with the late eighteenth century, a very clear hierarchy and
systematic order developed within the book trade. Before this time, printing
enterprises performed the roles of a printer, publisher or editor, and book seller at the


219
same time. The end of the century brought further specialization within the business,
to the extent that editors were now responsible for most of the works published. They
subcontracted to printers, illustrators, and other production specialists before selling
the finished products to specialist book retailers.
431
The publisher’s role became
increasingly even more important starting in the nineteenth century, when he became
directly responsible for the content of all publications put out under his name.
432
The
editor’s role thus became completely separated from and significantly more important
than that of a bookseller or a printer, who were not held responsible for the works
they helped bring on the market.
433

Publishers and editors such as the Belgian Charles Claesen, who specialized in
the field of industrial and decorative arts, worked for an international market.
434
In
France, editors were required to deposit their works with the Bibliothèque nationale
de France, a rule which protected them from copyright infringement in an
increasingly more globalized world where access to communication and sources were
more open than ever before. Scholars have explained how, due to new processes of
communication, including the development of dependable postal services, an efficient

431
David Finkelstein, “The Globalization of the Book 1800-1970,” in Simon Eliot and Jonathan Rose,
eds., A Companion to the History of the Book (Oxford: Blackwell, 2007), p. 329.

432
Marc Saboya, Presse et architecture au XIXe siècle: César Daly et la Revue générale de
l'architecture et des travaux publics (Paris: Picard, 1991), p. 95.

433
Ibid.

434
Willa Silverman also talks about the cross-cultural fertilization that occurred at the time in the field
of book production. As she explains, collectors, artists, publishers, and dealers from France, England,
Belgium, Germany, and Switzerland were connected to each other. See Silverman, The New
Bibliopolis, p. 10.

220
system developed for the “circulation of information between authors, editors,
publishers, and their readers.”
435
International copyright regulations were signed
before the end of the nineteenth century and products circulated freely on a global
market.
436
Such a system permitted the Belgian Charles Claesen to own a publishing
house, a bookshop and a printing house in Liège at 26, rue du Jardin Botanique, while
also operating as an editor and bookseller at 30, rue des Saints-Pères in Paris.
437
With
another office at 106, Avenue de la Toison d'or in Brussels, where Ed. Lyon-Claesen
served as his agent, and yet another one in Berlin at 49, Franzosische Strasse,
Claesen’s house was one of the best known publishing enterprises that
commercialized patterns of industrial and decorative arts around the world.
438
By
1886, in addition to French and German, Claesen’s catalogues were available in
English, Spanish and Italian.
439

Providing “all works having to do with architecture, furniture, upholstery,
decorative painting and sculpture,” the house attempted to win over the general public

435
Finkelstein, “The Globalization of the Book,” p. 330.

436
Ibid., pp. 329-330. The 1887 Berne Convention for the Protection of Literary and Artistic Works
required the participating countries to accept the copyright of works by authors, citizens of those
countries.

437
For the birth date of Charles Claesen see
http://www.ilab.org/search.php?alltext=Claesen&search=Search (visited July 10, 2010). For Claesen’s
address and various roles in Liège and Paris, see its catalogue of ca. 1882, Claesen, Catalogue général.

438
Ibid., for the address in Bruxelles. For the address in Berlin, see the 1872 catalogue of the Librairie
spéciale des arts industriels et décoratifs Ch. Claesen, éditeur (Paris, 30 rue des Saints-Pères; Liège, 26
rue du Jardin botanique; Berlin, 49 Franzosische Strasse, 1872) in the collection of the Bibliothèque
Nationale de France, site François-Mitterand (8 – Q10B). By 1886, the Bruxelles office moved to 8 rue
Berckmans. See the 1886 catalogue: Ch. Claesen Catalogue illustré des livres de fonds.

439
Claesen, Catalogue illustré des livres de fonds (1886).

221
by offering several purchasing packages. It submitted any of its works for personal
review upon demand, on the condition that the transportation and any possible
damage costs were sustained by the requestor.
440
Its publications could be purchased
on monthly credit. If under one hundred francs, they could be acquired with a deposit
of five francs cash plus five francs per month thereafter, if the buyer lived in Paris,
and by payments of twenty francs every three months, if the buyer lived in the
provinces. If more expensive than one hundred francs, the books were payable at a
rate of twenty francs per month in Paris and fifty in the provinces.
441
Such facilities
increased the company’s sales, while allowing for its merchandize to be purchased by
people of varied social standing.
A successor of D. Avanzo et Compagnie, a Belgian firm that had garnered a
market for large-format architectural pattern books by the 1840s, the publishing house
of Charles Claesen participated in many national and international competitions.
442

Starting in 1868, when it had won the grand gold medal at an 1868 exhibition in
Brussels, the firm was present at most international contests, where it displayed works
and won various prizes – including the First Annual International Exhibition in
London in 1871, the Vienna Weltausstellung in 1873, the Philadelphia Centennial

440
Ibid. Also see Claesen, Catalogue général, p.4.

441
Ibid., p. 3.

442
http://www.ilab.org/search.php?alltext=Claesen&search=Search (visited July 10, 2010).

222
Exhibition in 1876, the Paris 1878 Exposition universelle, where it won a silver
medal, and the Chicago World’s Columbian Exhibition in 1893.
443

In ca. 1882, Claesen listed within its catalogue no fewer than seven books to
which Alexandre-Eugène Prignot contributed designs, five of which it itself had
published.
444
Prignot’s L’Architecture, la décoration, l’ameublement was the first
book the catalogue listed, immediately followed by Prignot’s three series of twenty-
five plates that would be part of the final 100-plate collection of La Tenture
moderne.
445
While any of these publications might have adorned Claesen’s stand at
the various exhibitions, more interesting is the fact that they might have also adorned
the stands of other publishing houses such as those of Armand Guérinet, which listed
works by Prignot among its publications. The publishing house of Armand Guérinet
also advertised Prignot’s La Tenture moderne in its 1908 catalogue, a version of that
included all four series of twenty five plates in one publication.
446
Winner of gold,
silver and bronze medals at the 1878, 1889 and 1900 Paris Expositions universelles,
as well as at Brussels, Glasgow, Chicago and St-Louis, the publishing firm of

443
Claesen, Catalogue général and Krantz, Rapports sur l’Exposition internationale de Chicago… .

444
Claesen, Catalogue général. The five books by Prignot that Claesen published included: Prignot,
L’Architecture, la décoration, l’ameublement; Prignot, La Tenture moderne; Prignot, Carnet du
tapissier moderne; Claesen, ed., L’Ameublement moderne; Eugène Prignot, La Marbrerie moderne
[ca.1878-1882]. The other two were: Eugène Prignot, Décors intérieurs pour édifices publics et privés,
possibly a new edition of Prignot, Décors intérieurs composés et dessinés par E. Prignot,
photographié par A. Martin (Paris: Chez Ph. Collier, 1869), and an edition of Havard, L’Art dans la
maison, to which Prignot contributed designs.

445
Ibid., pp. 5-6.

446
See the Armand Guérinet, Catalogue des Publications éditées par la Librairie d’Architecture &
D’Art Décoratif Armand Guérinet (Paris : Armand Guérinet, 140 Faubourg Saint-Martin, 1908), p. 20,
and Eugène Prignot and C. Rémon, La Tenture Moderne (Paris: Armand Guérinet, [1883]).

223
Armand Guérinet included among its exhibits works by Prignot as late as 1900,
fifteen years after the artist had died.
447
Their work reproduced over and over,
through such firms’ competition and cooperation, interior decorators such as Prignot,
Lenoir and Rémon gained a public that probably far surpassed their imagination.
Returning to the seventh exhibition of the Union centrale, where Lenoir’s
projects were so severely criticized, it is unfortunate that none of Lenoir’s designs
filled with “extravagant draperies rumpled to excess” can be easily identified.
However, next to other contributions such as the Projet d'un grand Salon Louis XIV
by Cabon’s student Célestin-François-Louis Gosse and the group of decorations for a
private hôtel by Alexandre Sandier, later to be published in the popular illustrated
journal La Revue illustrée, it is unlikely that Lenoir’s compositions would have
differed significantly from those of his contemporaries, who also valued artistic
accomplishment over facility in execution in their works.
448

Another grandchild of grand theater décors, educated by Cambon, Célestin-
François-Louis Gosse was famous for his rich interior decoration designs such as his
Boudoirs in the Louis XVI style, shown in 1883 at the Salon des arts décoratifs of the
Union centrale (Fig. 3.47) and in 1886 at the official Salon. (Fig. 3.48) Reproduced in
the Catalogue official illustré du Salon des arts décoratifs and, respectively, in César
Daly’s architectural journal the Revue générale de l’architecture et des travaux

447
Ibid. and La Librairie, l’édition musicale.

448
See the Catalogue officiel du Salon des Arts décoratifs de 1882. For more information on Alexandre
Sandier and his contributions to the Revue illustrée, please refer to Chapter 5 of this dissertation.

224
publics, Gosse’s designs impress by their use of drapery as an integral component of
interior architecture.
449
Paintings, sculptures and ornamental niches enriched textile-
clad interiors, where drapery assumed pride of place. Praised in the Revue générale
de l’architecture et des travaux publics, the foremost architectural journal in Paris
starting with 1866, as a talented draftsman, Gosse had built an impressive portfolio of
interior decoration designs, which he had exhibited at no fewer than twelve official
Salons, the two Salons des arts décoratifs of the Union centrale and two Expositions
universelles (1878 and 1889).
450

Gosse’s contribution to the field of interior decoration was recognized in 1889
together with that of Lenoir, by the international jury of the third group. Here, next to
designs by three of Prignot’s students (including Lenoir, Fernand Lamotte, and
Georges Rémon), Gosse exhibited on a series of mobile panels connected to a fixed,
common pole a suite of drawings in either Chinese ink enhanced by sepia or in black
pencil and charcoal.
451
Drawing his inspiration from gothic to byzantine to Chinese,
Hindu and all the French Louis-styles, the decorator applied his talent to private
libraries, bedrooms, salons, and winter gardens – the majority of which had been
executed throughout various contemporary interiors.
452
Possibly including such

449
See the Catalogue official illustré du Salon des arts décoratifs (1883) and César Daly, “Boudoir et
cabinet de travail par M. Gosse, architecte-décorateur. (Planches 55 et 56),” Revue générale de
l’architecture et des travaux publics 4, no. 13 (1886), p. 186.

450
Ibid., p. 186. For an account of the history of Daly’s journal, see Saboya, Presse et architecture, p.
59.

451
Legriel, p. 45.

452
Ibid.

225
designs as the Hindu-style (Fig. 3.49) boudoir conserved in the collection Maciet at
the Bibliothèque des arts décoratifs (formerly the library of the Union centrale),
Gosse’s exhibit stood as testimony to the public taste for theatrical, heavily-draped
interiors at the time. Not unlike Lenoir’s Vestibule Style Louis XIII (Fig. 3.3)
discussed at the beginning of this chapter, Gosse’s designs were very much
characterized by a touch of fantasy inspired by the ephemeral décor of the theater
stage. For such artists-decorators, the artistic quality of the image of an interior
rendered on paper was more important than that image’s feasibility of translation into
a real, three-dimensional environment. The value of the object lay in its visual artistry
more so than in its potential to serve as a blueprint for somebody’s room.
Despite their dismissal by the jury of the seventh exhibition of the Union
centrale, designs by Lenoir were very much thriving in France seven years later.
Their success was now confirmed by the bestowal of the silver medal upon Lenoir at
the Paris 1889 Exposition universelle. The publications put forth by interior designers
such as Lenoir’s teacher, Alexandre-Eugène Prignot and Lenoir’s fellow decorators
(Célestin-François-Louis Gosse and Georges Rémon) promoted their visions of
interiors in a published format and encouraged an interest in paper interior
architecture. Whether physically embodied in people’s homes or not, this new type of
art was nevertheless appreciated by an increasingly large public, who could afford its
purchase in one or another of the formats in which it was available: as cutouts from
interior decoration or architectural journals such as Désiré Guilmard’s Le Garde-
meuble or César Daly’s Revue générale de l’architecture et des travaux publics, as

226
bound volumes in pattern books such as Guilmard’s La Décoration au XIX siècle, or
as scaled-down, simplified and cheaper reprints of such albums intended for less
wealthy buyers.
The three books that Lenoir painstakingly published at his own cost earlier in
the century also became widely available through this very same network of
publishing firms, exhibitions, and bookshops by the 1890s. Mostly known today for
his 1889 design for a medieval dining-room surviving today in the collection of the
Musée des arts décoratifs in Paris, (Fig. 3.50) Lenoir would have reached a far larger
public through his books. His Décors de fenêtres et des lits not only was published as
a different edition by the publishing house of Charles Juliot, but it was also available
for purchase in Claesen’s bookshops in1882 and in those of E. Thézard Fils’ in 1887,
along with both the Traité théorique et pratique du tapissier and the Décoration des
appartements.
453
Lenoir’s Traité théorique et pratique du tapissier and Décoration
des appartements were listed in the brochure Juliot provided for the 1900 Exposition
universelle as the firm’s most important publications, thus possibly also being part of
the firm’s display at that exhibition. The Union centrale might have rejected such
images in 1882, but through mass-produced publications they had gained the public’s
appreciation and support, no matter how impractical they might have been. This was
reflected in Lenoir’s recognition as an important decorator in 1889 and the many

453
Lenoir, Décors de fenêtres et des lits ([ca. 1890]) Founded in 1874, the publishing firm of Charles
Juliot had primarily produced publications related to the field of art and that of construction, with a
focus on architecture, woodwork, roof structure, the locksmith’s trade, furniture, and decoration. The
house had won the silver medal at the 1889 Exposition universelle. For more information, see La
Librairie, l’édition musicale. Also see Claesen, Catalogue général and Thézard & Cie, Catalogue de la
Librairie d’architecture Thézard et Cie.

227
reprints that his illustrations enjoyed thereafter. Moreover, Lenoir’s contribution
throughout the nineteenth century to the field of decorative arts, either as a
“composer” of apartment interiors for architects or as a draftsman of models of
furniture and draperies for various Parisian upholsterer-decorators, which he then
brought to completion under his own supervision, suggests that his contemporaries
did not share the opinion of the Union centrale and welcomed “extravagant draperies
rumpled to excess” within their private homes, if only on paper.
454

Indeed, “art” and decoration had official divisions forced upon them. These
divisions proved to be artificial at best, since the two forms of artistic expression were
intertwined. Decorators penetrated the world of “high art” in the same way that fine
artists, later in the century, experimented with interior decoration. They used
compositional devices inspired by the world of “high art” with its bent for the
theatrical, and disseminated their works through similar exhibition apparatuses –
including public Salons, decorative arts exhibitions, and published sources. Images
published in pattern books rarely contained practical information. Thus, they were
more than mere buying guides: they were created and consumed as an art which
circulated widely and appealed to both a local and an international public of varying
social classes. So, despite the official institutions that sought to distinguish art from
decoration and industrial design, the terms very much bled into each other throughout
the second half of the nineteenth century. Not only was interior decoration the realm
of men, great artists, and official exhibition spaces as much as that of women

454
Lenoir, “Life of the Author.”

228
preoccupied with the domestic sphere but the wide circulation of interior decoration
designs also stands as proof to the inextricable relationship between art and
commerce in the second half of the nineteenth century.

229

Fig. 3.1: G. Félix Lenoir, [Bedroom], from Décors des fenêtres
et des lits (1879)
Fig. 3.2: G. Félix Lenoir, “Salon Style Louis XVI,” from
Décoration des appartements (1887)

230

Fig. 3.3: G. Félix Lenoir, “Vestibule Style Louis XIII,” from
Décoration des appartements (1887)
Fig. 3.4: Auguste Caron, Interior décor for the first act of
Moses (1827), watercolor after the stage-set by Pierre-Luc-
Charles Cicéri

231

Fig. 3.5: G. Félix Lenoir, “Baie sur un petit salon, cheminée
Louis XIII, Meubles Divers,” from Décors des fenêtres et
des lits (1879)
Fig. 3.6: Édouard Manet, Masked Ball at the Opera (1873)

232

Fig. 3.7: G. Félix Lenoir, Projet de décoration pour salle à manger
Renaissance (1870)
Fig. 3.8: Grand Salon du Pavillon de la Commission Française à
l’Exposition d’Amsterdam, Portefeuille de la Revue des arts
décoratifs (1883)

233

Fig. 3.9: Pierre Mazaroz, “Salon de chasse,” from D.
Guilmard, La Décoration au XIXe siécle (c. 1870)
Fig. 3.10: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Intérieur de salon genre Louis
XV,” from D. Guilmard, La Décoration au XIXe siécle (c. 1870)

234

Fig. 3.11: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Cheminée salle à manger, genre
Renaissance,” from D. Guilmard, La Décoration au XIXe siécle (c. 1870)
Fig. 3.12: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, [Wall Treatment], from
Décors intérieurs (1869)

235

Fig. 3.13: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, [Cabinet], from Décors intérieurs (1869)
Fig. 3.14: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, [Ceiling], from
Décors intérieurs (1869)

236

Fig. 3.15: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, [Interior
View], from Décors intérieurs (1869)
Fig. 3.16: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Cheminée pour un grand
vestibule, style Renaissance,” from L’Architecture, la décoration,
l’ameublement (c. 1873)

237

Fig. 3.17: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Élévation, pour un grand
vestibule style Renaissance,” from L’Architecture, la décoration,
l’ameublement (c. 1873)
Fig. 3.18: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Crédence pour un
grand vestibule, style Renaissance,” from L’Architecture, la
décoration, l’ameublement (c. 1873)

238

Fig. 3.19: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Fontaine-lavabo, pour un grand
vestibule style Renaissance,” from L’Architecture, la décoration,
l’ameublement (c. 1873)
Fig. 3.20: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Chambre à coucher
Henri II,” from D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble: Collection de
tentures (1882)

239

Fig. 3.22: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Meuble Henri
II,” from D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble: Collection
de meubles (1882)
Fig. 3.21: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, “Fond du salon
Henri II,” from D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble:
Collection de tentures (1882)

240

Fig. 3.23: Désiré Guilmard, “Intérieur de cabinet de travail
d’amateur,” from D. Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble ancien
et moderne: Collection de tentures (1863)
Fig. 3.24: Désiré Guilmard, “Intérieur de cabinet de travail d’amateur,” from D.
Guilmard, Le Garde-meuble ancien et moderne: Collection de tentures (1863)

241

Fig. 3.25: James Roberts, The Queen’s Sitting-Room
at Buckingham Palace (watercolor, 1848)
Fig. 3.26: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot,
“Portière, genre gothique,” from Le
Carnet du tapissier moderne (c. 1882)
Fig. 3.27: Alexandre-Eugène
Prignot, “Croisée pour vestibule,
genre moderne,” from Le Carnet
du tapissier moderne (c. 1882)

242

Fig. 3.28: Alexandre-Eugène
Prignot, “Portière, style gothique,”
from La Tenture moderne (1878-
82)
Fig. 3.29: Alexandre-Eugène Prignot,
“Croisée pour vestibule, style moderne,”
from La Tenture moderne (1878-82)
Fig. 3.30: “Pièce Directoire,” Rapport de la commission
d’installation (1900)

243

Fig. 3.31: Georges Rémon, “Salon de musique, Louis XV,”
from Intérieurs d’appartements modernes (c. 1892)
Fig. 3.32: Georges Rémon, “Chambre à coucher, Louis
XIII,” from Intérieurs d’appartements modernes (c. 1892)

244

Fig. 3.33: Georges Rémon, “Salon Régence,” from Intérieurs
d’appartements modernes (c. 1892)
Fig. 3.34: Georges Rémon, “Salle à manger gothique,”
from Intérieurs d’appartements modernes (c. 1892)

245

Fig. 3.35: The Lady and the Unicorn, “Touch,” 15
th
century
Fig. 3.36: Georges Rémon, “Intérieur mauresque,” from
Intérieurs d’appartements modernes (c. 1892)

246

Fig. 3.37: Jean-Léon Gérôme, Femmes au bain, ca. 1876
Fig. 3.38: H. Sauvestre, “Chambre à coucher, genre grec,” from D.
Guilmard, La Décoration au XIXe siècle (c. 1870)

247

Fig. 3.39: Jean-Léon Gérôme, Le Roi Candaule, 1859
Fig. 3.40: H. Sauvestre, “Salle de bains,
genre grec,” from D. Guilmard, La
Décoration au XIXe siècle (c. 1870)
Fig. 3.41: Jean-Auguste-Dominique
Ingres, La Source, 1856

248

Fig. 3.43: Jean-Léon Gérôme, Louis XIV et Molière, 1862
Fig. 3.42: Jean-Léon Gérôme, Cléopâtre et César, 1866

249

Fig. 3.44: Jean-Léon Gérôme, L’Intérieur grec. Le Gynécée, 1850
Fig. 3.46: Émile Reiber, Reproduction after Jan Vredeman de Vries, from L’Art
pour tous (January 1868)
Fig. 3.45: Paul Delaroche, L’Assassinat du duc de Guise, 1835

250

Fig. 3.47: Célestin-François-Louis Gosse, Louis XVI Boudoir, 1883
Fig. 3.48: Célestin-François-Louis Gosse, Louis XVI Boudoir, 1886

251

Fig. 3.49: Célestin-François-Louis Gosse, [Hindu-Style Boudoir], s.d.
Fig. 3.50: G. Félix Lenoir, Medieval Dining-Room, 1889

252
Chapter 4:
Selling Furniture as an Image in Late Nineteenth-Century Department Stores

In 1875, the French popular journal L’Illustration described the painting gallery at the
Bon Marché, one of the first department stores in Paris, as “the temple of Art elevated
by Industry.”
455
That an individual article was dedicated to the store’s painting gallery
alone stands as proof to the importance ascribed by the department store’s owner to
establishing a direct relationship between the store’s commercial undertaking and the
world of art.
456
That this was, indeed, the case comes as no surprise when one recalls
that the early years of the Third Republic were marked by the fear that Paris’ role as
the aesthetic capital of the world and the main producer of luxury objects was
jeopardized by the new commerce, the latter of which was best incarnated by the
newly-developed “cathedrals of consumption” that were the department stores.
457


455
“Magasins du Bon Marché: la galerie des tableaux,” L’Illustration (March 1875), p. 159.

456
Patricia Mainardi has also observed how Au Bon Marché attempted to “raise the prestige of the
department store through its association with high culture,” and especially through its establishment of
an art gallery on its premises. See Mainardi, The End of the Salon, p. 146. Following substantial
archival research, Michael Miller has pointed out how advertisements for Au Bon Marché published
between 1870s and 1880s in such popular journals as L’Illustration or Le Monde illustrée had very
likely been prepared in the offices of the department store in question. See Michael Barry Miller, The
Bon Marché: Bourgeois Culture and the Department Store, 1869-1920 (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton
University Press, 1981), p. 173.

457
The term “cathedrals of consumption” was used by Geoffrey Crossick and Serge Jaumain in their
edited volume titled Cathedrals of Consumption: The European Department Store, 1850-1939
(Brookfield, VT: Ashgate, 1998). For the perceived threat that department stores posed to Parisian
society, see Tiersten, Marianne in the Market, p. 56. This threat to the well-being of the nation marked
by department stores was exacerbated by their often-noted “notorious” influence on women. Not only
were these new retail businesses seen as contributing to the so-called “uniformity and debasement of
bourgeois taste,” but they were also held responsible for the destruction of family life and for women’s
moral depravity, which manifested through neglection of home responsibilities and, especially,
shoplifting. Also see Goeffrey Crossick and Serge Jaumain, “The World of the Department Store:
Distribution, Culture, and Social Change,” in Crossick and Jaumain, eds., Cathedrals of Consumption.

253
Developed out of the magasins de nouveautés of the 1830s and 1840s, the grands
magasins attempted to sell everything that one required for personal and home
improvement in one place. They unified what production had divided into one shop, a
situation permitted in the aftermath of the June 14, 1791 law that had broken the
monopolies held by various corporations.
458
By aligning their commercial activities
with the world of art, successful entrepreneurs such Aristide Boucicaut, the owner of
Au Bon Marché, could alleviate the much-too-often recited fears that department
stores were the evil bringing Paris, and France with it, down the path to perdition.
This chapter identifies mass-produced department store catalogs of the early
years of the Third Republic that depicted furnishings as key sites over which the
dramas of art versus trade were played out. Rather than multiples destined for
immediate discard, whose sole purpose was to complement the advertising strategies
employed by large-scale retail institutions, these objects were carefully planned out so
as to appeal to an audience used to consuming the interior as a landscape on paper. If
paintings, watercolors, pattern books of interior designs, and illustrated trade journals
served similar purposes, department store catalogs also suggested the possibility of
truly transposing those imaginary two-dimensional spaces into real three-dimensional
environments for the middle and the upper-middle classes. They sold furniture as an
interior landscape and, following this pattern of representation, began to advertise all-

458
For more information on the development of department stores out of the magasins de nouveautés
of the 1830s and 1840s and the magasins de frivolités of the mid-eighteenth century, see Suzanne Tise,
“Les Grands magasins,” in Arminjon, Brunhammer, et al., L’Art de Vivre, pp. 73-105, especially pp.
73-77. The law of June 14, 1791 had broken the monopolies controlling production and sales held by
corporations.

254
room services that allowed department stores to act like painters in three dimensions.
Contrary to contemporary misapprehensions that depicted the very institution of the
department store as an enemy to art, through their furniture catalogs, department
stores brought art into more homes than ever.
Accused of propagating faux-luxe and the vieux-neuf in the form of copies and
pastiches of old styles at the expense of furnishings and decorative objects inspired by
modern designs, department stores are still largely seen as having had a limited
involvement with the world of art and design until the early 1900s, and especially
1912, when Au Printemps opened Primavera, the first atelier d’art run by a
department store.
459
Yet the relationship between art and commerce within these early
furnishing emporia is not as straight-forward as it might initially seem. This chapter
will show that well before 1912 and even 1900, department stores engaged with both
the world of “high” art and the world of the applied arts in a very direct way. They
directly participated in the democratization of art, while offering the same decorating
services that architects, upholsters and cabinet-makers did in the latter half of the

459
The term faux-luxe stood for “cheap, counterfeit luxuries,” while the expression vieux-neuf defined
“new goods made to look like antiques.” See Tiesten, Marianne in the Market, p. 65. The cabinet-
maker and interior designer Henri Fourdinois summarizes the negative view of the role of faux-luxe
and vieux-neuf on contemporary production at the time in an 1885 article published in the Revue des
arts décoratifs. See Fourdinois, De l'état actuel. It is interesting to note that Fourdinois closed his
successful furniture and interior decorating business shortly after the publication of this article, in
1887, and sold its entire contents. For more information on the Fourdinois closure, see Olivier Gabet,
“Du Faubourg Saint-Antoine à Nancy,” in Majorelle: Un art de vivre moderne, catalogue d'exposition,
Nancy, Galeries Poirel, 2 mai - 30 août 2009 (Editions Nicolas Chaudun, 2009), p. 26. Auslander,
Taste and Power, p. 340, labels Primavera as the first atelier d’art. Les Galeries Lafayette followed in
1921 with La Maîtrise, the Grands Magasins du Louvre with Studium Louvre in 1922, and Au Bon
Marché with Atelier Pomone in ca. 1922. For a history of these ateliers d’art, devoted, according to art
historian Nancy Troy, “to the design, production, and sale of modern decorative art objects,” see Troy,
Modernism and the Decorative Arts, pp. 159-226.

255
nineteenth century. Department stores’ engagement with the art world took several
forms: they incorporated and commercialized art objects on their premises, imitated,
sold, or directly referenced works of art within their sales-catalogs, inspired new art
pieces through their products and displays, and, lastly, offered specialized decorating
services along with mass-produced furniture ensembles well before the establishment
of their ateliers d’art in the twentieth century.
In 1885, the cabinet-maker and interior decorator Henri-Auguste Fourdinois
(1830-1907) criticized the wide-scale production of semi-luxury objects (luxe
intermédiaire, or demi-luxe). Catering to the tastes of a growing middle-class that,
with less means, followed the decorating habits of rich collectors at the time, objects
in the styles of the past encouraged “the mania for ancient reproduction” [la manie de
la reproduction ancienne] rather than the development of new, modern products
designed by contemporary French artists. In his eyes, this taste for ancient furniture
reproduction was one of the principal motifs that prevented the modern furniture
industry from setting sail.
460
Fourdinois’ claim has more recently been taken up by
historian Leora Auslander, who has pointed out how nineteenth-century department
stores and furnishing emporia could not engage in the wide-scale production and
commercialization of furnishings that did not directly imitate styles from the past
since these were not easily applicable to the steam-powered lathes and molding
machines already available.
461
In order to become affordable, new designs meant new

460
Fourdinois, De l'état actuel, pp. 3-4, and p. 11.

461
Auslander, Taste and Power, p. 307 (footnote 4).

256
machines that would facilitate industrial production and lower the costs. Yet
producing new equipment every time a new style was devised, followed by the almost
immediate discarding of that equipment to make room for more innovation was
financially challenging. Indeed, as art historian Suzanne Tise explains, due to the
division of labor that followed the introduction of machine production, artists became
increasingly separated from the realization of their designs. At the same time, the
workers directly responsible for the manufacture of the designed objects had little to
no artistic knowledge that would allow them to imprint creative effects on the objects
they produced.
462
Innovation did not dwell well with mass-production, and detractors
often accused department stores, whose entire raison d’être depended on the speedy
turn-over of goods, fixed prices, and the commercialization of large quantities of low-
priced objects, of endangering the French artistic production at the time.
463

However, art historians Suzanne Tise and Nancy Troy have shown that,
contrary to such accusations, department stores did in fact play a prominent role in
the revival of the applied arts industry in the early 1900s.
464
According to Tise,
Parisian department stores became “popularizers of the modern style,” mounting


462
See Tise, “Les Grands magasins,” p. 91.

463
Tise makes a similar observation: “That more and more manufacturers were turning to lower-
quality production to meet the increasing demands of the department stores … meant the general
abasement of the entire French furniture industry.” See Tise, “Les Grands magasins,” p. 95. On how
department stores worked and made their profits, see Tise, “Les Grands magasins,” p. 85.

464
Also see Catherine Coley, “Les Magasins Réunis: From the Provinces to Paris, From Art Nouveau
to Art Deco,” in Crossick and Jaumain, Cathedrals of Consumption.

257
displays of contemporary furnishings at the Exposition universelle of 1900.
465

Moreover, as Troy notes, before establishing their ateliers d’art in the 1910s and
1920s, department stores directly participated in some of the major decorative arts
Salons, thus aligning themselves with the world of art.
466
For example, in 1909, Le
Printemps helped decorate both the exhibition halls and the salon de repos at the
Salon d’Automne, thus making its products known to a public in search of aesthetic
pleasure.
467
Beginning in 1914, Au Bon Marché organized in the passage connecting
its old building to the newly-constructed annex for the sale of furniture an exhibition
of decorative art modeled on the Salons, thus drawing yet another parallel between
the official expositions of high art and its commercial premises.
468
In the new
building, Troy explains, this “artistic salon” was continued with an exhibition that
mimicked the display strategies of the Musée des arts décoratifs, where furniture and
tapestries were arranged so as to “bring to mind the palace of the Sun King.”
469
The
retail techniques developed by department stores thus not only involved the use of art
exhibition spaces as a means of self-promotion but also incorporated the modes of
display developed by such exhibitions on their premises.
470
The relationship between

465
Tise, “Les Grands magasins,” p. 96, and Troy, Modernism and the Decorative Arts, p. 174.

466
Troy, Modernism and the Decorative Arts, p. 176.

467
Ibid. The Salon d’Automne was held for the first time in 1903, as a reaction to the official Paris
Salon.

468
Ibid., p. 176.

469
Ibid.

470
These modes of display were later adopted in the department stores’ windows, as well as on the
occasion of special exhibitions within their premises, where references to exotic locales and historic

258
the commercial culture of the department store and the world of twentieth-century art
was more porous than initially meets the eye.
471

Another link between department stores and the world of art came in the form
of print advertising. The posters and catalogs produced by these stores helped diffuse
avant-garde art movements such as Art Nouveau and Cubism. Renowned artists and
illustrators such as Jules Chéret (1836-1932), Adolphe Willette (1857-1926), and Paul
Iribe (1883-1935), often designed their covers.
472
With their “abundant and elegant
illustrations, high-quality paper, originality, and typographic innovations,”
department store catalogs from the first part of the twentieth century were often
intended as works of art in and of themselves.
473
As such, they participated in
promoting a more democratized art collecting culture. At the same time, the
establishment starting with 1912 of various ateliers d’art for the production of

places began to appear before the mid-1890s. See Frank L. Carr Jr., The Wide-Awake Window Dresser:
A Treatise on The Art and Science of Show Window and Store Interior Construction, Economy and
Decoration, Containing a Complete Exposition of the Laws of Color Harmony, Full Instruction in
Fabric Draperies and Many Practical Ideas Concerning Proper Display Forms, Fixtures and
Accessories (New York: Published by the Dry Goods Economist, 1894) and Émile Zola, Au Bonheur
des dames (Paris: Charpentier, 1883), which, based on the direct observations that Zola had dutifully
registered in person at the Bon Marché, described exotic displays composed of sumptuous tents
furnished with divans and armchairs intended to sell Oriental carpets.

471
The debate between the values of popular culture and high culture has been ongoing for a long time
within the field of art history. The rise of a mass culture and a culture of consumption in the late
nineteenth and early twentieth century, which engendered new artistic practices such as the so-called
“commercial art” (defined as art produced with the specific intent of selling things), has been regarded
as a departure from the high-ended values and disinterestedness of the high culture system, which
maintained art to be the expression of the mind and the hand of a genius. For a rehearsal of these
debates, see especially Michelle H. Bogart, Artists, Advertising, and the Borders of Art (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1995), especially the Introduction.

472
Tise, “Les Grands magasins,” p. 77.

473
Ibid.

259
furniture and other decorative objects by the Parisian department stores aimed to
attract an upper-middle-class audience that otherwise preferred to decorate its private
interiors with items purchased from the studios of more established decorators of the
day, including such figures as Paul Poiret (1879-1944), Francis Jourdain (1876-1958),
and Louis Süe (1875-1968), who mostly engaged in the small-scale production of
“unique” pieces.
474
Department stores too, then, set out to produce a small series of
exclusive artistic items that were closer in conception to the products and appeal of
such galleries and design studios such as Siegfried Bing’s 1895 L’Art Nouveau,
which have long been associated with the realm of high art.
475

Yet since the early years of the Third Republic, department stores and
furniture emporia responded to and sought to contribute to the advancement and
popularization of modern artworks. One of the first means through which they
attempted to do so was the incorporation of artistic pieces, either for sale or for the
viewing pleasure of clients, on their retail grounds. As Geoffrey Crossick and Serge
Jaumain suggest, the entire philosophy of the department store’s selling techniques
lay in the paradoxical fact that, although the products sold often were “mass-produced
and aggressively priced,” the culture suggested “was one of luxury, indulgence, and

474
Troy, Modernism and the Decorative Arts, p. 174. Paul Poiret opened La Maison Martine in 1911,
while Louis Süe and Francis Jourdain established L’Atelier Français and, respectively, the Ateliers
Modernes in 1912. Also see Tise, “Les Grands magasins,” p. 96. According to Nancy Troy, “the
department store took its merchandising cues from the ateliers and boutiques of fashionable decorative
artists in Paris [like Poiret and Süe and then used its more substantial marketing resources to beat them
at their own game.” See Troy, Modernism and the Decorative Arts, p. 172. For more information on
Poiret, also see Troy, Couture Culture.

475
La Maison de l’Art Nouveau opened in 1895. It, too, bolstered a design studio and private atelier.
For more information on Bing’s enterprise see Weisberg, Art Nouveau Bing.

260
good taste.”
476
Crossick and Jaumain credit the department store setting with this
“sense of elegance” that the retail space produced;
477
and the participation of artists in
the decorating process was very much commented and capitalized on in the
contemporary popular press.
Established in 1852 as a magasin de nouveautés by Aristide Boucicaut, a
former employee at the magasin de nouveautés Petit Saint-Thomas, Au Bon Marché
became, by the first years of the Third Republic a thriving and successful commercial
enterprise. Between 1869 and 1872, the store added to its grounds a new building at
the intersection of the rue de Sèvres and the rue Velpeau constructed according to the
plans of the architect Alexandre Leplanche. To this, yet another set of extensions
were made between 1872 and 1874, under the supervision of Louis-Charles Boileau
(1837-1914).
478
But it was not merely the monumental entrances, grand staircases,
and immense open-spaced galleries filled with merchandise that dazzled the
aesthetically-inclined visitor-turned-spectator within the “theater” or “temple” of
commerce that was Au Bon Marché.
479
The painting gallery that Boucicaut opened in
1875 also received much attention in the illustrated press at the time, including

476
Crossick and Jaumain, “The World of the Department Store,” p. 27.

477
Ibid.

478
See Tise, “Les Grands magasins,” p. 86. For a well-developed monograph on Au Bon Marché see
Miller, The Bon Marché.

479
The metaphors are taken from Miller, The Bon Marché, p. 167. According to Miller, the engineer of
this construction, which featured “a framework of thin columns and a roofing of glass” was Gustave
Eiffel, later praised for his 1889 Tower built on the occasion of the universal exhibition. See Miller,
The Bon Marché, p. 42.

261
L’Illustration and La Chronique des arts et de la curiosité.
480
(Fig. 4.1) With a ceiling
painted by Henri Lévy (1840-1904),
481
cornices and caryatids probably sculpted by
Léon Auguste Perrey (1841-1900),
482
and other decorative paintings conceived by
less-known artists such as Valadin and Lucien Feuchères, the painting gallery
featured at one end a colossal fireplace surmounted by a bust of Colbert designed by
the architect Louis-Charles Boileau (1837-1910) and produced by the workshop of
Séguin. According to L’Illustration, the room was “a masterpiece of style and taste
that honors the talent of the house architect, M. Boileau fils.”
483
A second-story
gallery ran all along the exhibition space, where visitors could admire the works of art
exhibited on the main floor from above, while also taking in the splendor of the
architectural space, meant to function as a single whole, at a single glance.
484
Indeed,

480
See Alfred Darcel, “Peintures de MM. H. Lévy et D. Maillart dans les galleries du Bon Marché,” La
Chronique des arts et de la curiosité (March 27, 1875); “Magasins du Bon Marché: la galerie des
tableaux,” L’Illustration (March 6, 1875); “Grands établissements de Paris: Les agrandissements de la
maison du Bon-Marché,” L’Illustration (Oct. 10, 1874), pp. 236-238.

481
Henri Léopold Lévy studied with Eugène Fromentin (1820-1876) and Alexandre Cabanel (1823-
1889) at the École des beaux-arts. He participated at numerous Salons and was awarded the Légion
d’honneur in 1872. See Emmanuel Bénézit, Dictionnaire critique et documentaire des peintres,
sculpteurs, dessinateurs, et graveurs de tous les temps et de tous les pays, vol. 8 (Paris: Gründ, 1999),
p. 605. According to Patricia Mainardi, Henri Lévy is the same artist who was responsible for The
Coronation of Charlemagne in the Panthéon. See Mainardi, The End of the Salon, p. 146.

482
Léon Auguste Perrey collaborated with Louis-Charles Boileau on several other projects associated
with the Bon Marché department store, including the commemorative monument dedicated to Mme.
Boucicaut in 1890. See ““Réf.1758 Exceptionnelle cheminée en chêne par Louis Boileau et Léon
Perrey,” http://www.marcmaison.fr/architectural-antiques-pieces/exceptionnal-oak-mantel-by-louis-
boileau-and-leon-perrey (visited July 13, 2011). Léon Auguste’s father, the sculptor Aimé Napoléon
Perrey (1813-1883) also worked on the Bon Marché, contributing to its façade. For more information
on Aimé Napoléon and Léon Auguste Perrey, see Bénézit, Dictionnaire critique et documentaire, vol.
10, p. 767.

483
“Magasins du Bon Marché: la galerie des tableaux,” L’Illustration (March 1875), p. 159.

484
Ibid.

262
the image featured in L’Illustration depicted the works on display and the interior
architecture of the gallery space at the same time. Visitors were shown paying as
much attention to the works of painting and sculpture within as to the painted and
sculpted decoration that embellished the walls.
While other areas too included works of art and architecture worthy of study
on their own, including the reading room, with a ceiling painted by Diogène Maillart
(1840-1926) and decorated with sculptures by Albert-Ernest Carrier-Belleuse (1824-
1887), or the salon-buffet, decorated with frescoes by the painter and designer Félix
Armand Marie Jobbé-Duval (1821-1889), the originality of the painting gallery lay in
its display of artworks for public appreciation and for the advancement of the store’s
commercial interests.
485
Indeed, not only did Au Bon Marché publish a catalog of the
paintings and sculptures on display, but it also proceeded to act as an intermediary
between the artists whose works were shown and those visitors to the store desiring to
purchase them.
486
In other words, the house intervened in the sale of the art objects
displayed in its gallery, and operated very much like an art dealer in its own right. An
object no longer available for purchase would be marked as “sold” in the catalog of

485
Ibid. Diogène Ulysse Napoléon Maillart was a history painter that also worked as a painter of genre
scenes, portraits, and mural compositions, as well as an engraver and illustrator. He studied under
Sébastien Cornu (1804-1870) and Léon Cogniet (1794-1880) at the École des beaux-arts and received
the grand prix de Rome in 1864. For more information on Maillart, see Bénézit, Dictionnaire critique
et documentaire, vol. 9, p. 29. Jobbé-Duval studied with Paul Delaroche (1797-1856) and Charles
Gleyre (1806-1874) at the École des beaux-arts. He won the Légion d’honneur in 1862. For more
information about him, see Bénézit, Dictionnaire critique et documentaire, vol. 7, p. 545. Carrier-
Beleuse studied with David d’Angers (1788-1856) at the École des beaux-arts and received the Légion
d’honneur in 1867. For more information, see Bénézit, Dictionnaire critique et documentaire, vol. 3,
pp. 292-293.

486
Ibid.

263
works displayed in the gallery. However, unlike art dealers at the time, the
department store expected no compensation from the various parties involved.
487
Its
sole gain was measured through its association with the world of art, in attempting to
create the impression of a cultured, aesthetically-minded institution.
By 1889, Au Bon Marché transformed the reading room into another space for
the display of art. Along with the French and foreign press of the day, the reading
room thus boasted a display of original paintings and sculptures by young French
artists, who could use the store’s publicity to extend their clientele.
488
Admitted to
exhibit for free, or so the store advertised, artists were not required to pay any display
fees and were not held responsible to share any percentage of their gain with the
store, should their works be sold.
489
They did, however, benefit from the attention
bestowed upon them by the department store’s visitors, who made use of the reading
room not only to check the latest news but also to complete their correspondence.
490

Men, women, and children visited the room in great numbers, if we are to believe the
illustrations put forward by Au Bon Marché in its various mail-in catalog; and not

487
Ibid.

488
Une Visite aux Magasins du Bon Marché Fondés par Aristide Boucicaut (Paris, 1889), p. 21. In the
Recueil de catalogues Au Bon Marché found in the Bibliothèque nationale de France, site François-
Mitterand (call number: FOL- WZ- 211 < 1865- >).

489
Ibid.

490
Ibid. The store did put at the disposition of its clients everything needed in the completion of their
private correspondence.

264
few were those who stepped in to admire the artwork lining the reading room’s
walls.
491

But Au Bon Marché was not the only department store in Paris to encourage
the exhibition and commercialization of art on its premises. The Grands Magasins du
Louvre, a department store established on the occasion of the first Exposition
universelle in 1855 within the precincts of the Grand Hôtel du Louvre, also dedicated
a portion of its gallery floors to the exhibitions of art objects produced by
contemporary artists. Founded by Charles-Eugène Faré, a former employee at the
magasin de nouveauté A la Belle Fermière and co-founder in 1829 of A la Belle
Française, Alfred-Hippolyte Chauchard, a former employee at Au Pauvre Diable, and
Charles-Auguste-Hériot, a former employee at A la Ville de Paris, the Grands
Magasins du Louvre slowly took over the Grand Hôtel du Louvre, occupying by 1888
the entire premises of the former Hôtel and proclaiming itself as early as 1873 as “the
most significant store in the world.”
492
The Grands Magasins du Louvre, as Suzanne
Tise explains, used the same commercial strategies for which other department stores
were celebrated. However, “with buyers in Albania, Syria, Guadeloupe, Mauritius,
and Martinique,” it presented itself as “the home of exoticism” and “aimed at a more
wealthy and sophisticated clientele.”
493
As an 1877 illustration from Le Monde

491
By 1889, it also seems that the original painting gallery and the reading room were merged into a
single salon. See Miller, The Bon Marché, p. 168.

492
Piedade da Silveira, Les Grands Magasins du Louvre au XIXe siècle (Paris: CCM, 1995), pp. 9-10
and p. 21.

493
Tise, “Les Grands magasins,” p. 86.

265
illustré also makes clear, it was the upper-middle classes who shopped at the Grands
Magasins du Louvre. Taking advantage of the newly-invented passenger elevator
installed on the store’s premises, fashionable women in elegant dresses, accompanied
by children and pets, moved busily from one floor to the next.
494
(Fig. 4.2)
Shortly after the store’s extension around 1888, a series of annual contests
were developed for designs of decorative objects to be manufactured and sold by the
store.
495
Thus, in 1893, a contest was held for the design of a lamp and of an
embroidered lace handkerchief, while in 1894 the two subjects of the competition
were a bedroom set and a piano drape.
496
In 1896, artists were invited to deposit their
designs with the Sécretariat of the Grands Magasins du Louvre for a panel composed
of a painted subject on a woven fabric and a dining-table seating up to twenty-four
people surmounted by a chandelier suitable for electric lighting.
497
In the one month
dedicated to the contest, there would be two exhibitions: one before the jury decided
the winners, with the works anonymously displayed within the store, and another
after the jury made its selection, with all the names of the artists inscribed next to
their respective works.
498
The department store reserved the right to purchase those

494
The first passenger elevator goes back to 1857, and was installed in New York City.

495
Suzanne Tise explains that the inauguration of these contests in the 1890s was mostly due to the
department store’s director at the time, a certain Monsieur Honoré, who also sat on the board of
directors of the Union Centrale des Arts Décoratifs, thus connecting the world of commerce and the
world of the applied arts in a very direct way. See Tise, “Les Grands magasins,” p. 95.

496
Ibid., pp. 95-96.

497
Grands magasins du Louvre, Concours 1896 de panneau de tapisserie et d’éclairage électrique
(Paris: Grands Magasins du Louvre, 1896).

498
Ibid.

266
designs that the jury selected to honor and mass-produce them by adding to the
original cash-prize the sum of five hundred francs.
499
By showcasing the work of new
talents, the Grands Magasins du Louvre was thus not only creating an audience for
modern design but was also aligning itself with the world of modern art, which,
starting with 1891, had also opened its doors to the decorative arts, and of which its
founders had proved to be generous supporters.
500
Indeed, Alfred Chauchard, one of
the store’s first owners, was renowned for his collection of classical and modern
paintings housed both in his Parc Monceau mansion and in his private castle in
Lonchamp, which, upon his death, he bequeathed to the Musée du Louvre.
501

But the connection between department stores and the world of art did not
stop with the former’s commercialization and display of modern artwork or with the
organization of contests and exhibitions dedicated to modern art. More than that, as
Nancy Troy pointed out with regards to the 1909 Salon d’Automne, department stores
also sought to align themselves with the world of official exhibitions. At least six
years before Au Printemps’ 1909 contribution to the Salon d’Automne, the
department store A la Place Clichy contributed the interior décor of the gallery space,


499
Ibid. For the jury, four members were chosen by the department store and three were chosen by the
participants. All designs otherwise remained under the ownership of their authors.

500
Starting with 1891, the decorative arts were also accepted at the annual Paris Salons, and were thus
treated on the same par with paintings and sculptures. See Troy, Modernism and the Decorative Arts,
p. 197.

501
Tise, “Les Grands magasins,” p. 88 and Da Silveira, Les Grands Magasins du Louvre,” pp. 46-47.

267
including draperies, carpets, and seats to the Salon des Artistes Français.
502
In fact, as
early as 1895, this department store appears to have contributed carpets to the same
Salon, while in 1898 it displayed an entire Louis XV Salon as part of the Exposition
d'Hygiène et de Sauvetage.
503
A pamphlet published in the aftermath of the 1903
Salon des Artistes Français purportedly attempted to present in visual form the
store’s input to the exhibition.
504
(Fig. 4.3) Instead, the final outcome was a series of
illustrations designed by the painter, etcher, and lithographer Louis Abel-Truchet
(1857-1918), which, rather than emphasize the decorative objects provided by the
store, highlighted the paintings, life-size statues, and, respectively, decorative
sculptures on display at the Salon.
505
Admittedly, each sketch included such items as

502
See A la Place Clichy. Lundi 6 Juillet. Exposition et mise en vente des tapis d'Orient ayant servi à
la décoration du Salon de 1903 (Paris: A la Place Clichy, 1903), a pamphlet preserved in the collection
of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 284 1903 juillet). In 1898, the department store aggrandized its
furniture and upholstery departments, the growing importance of which was also reflected in the new
store displays promoted by the store’s administration. A series of rooms, including salons, bedrooms,
and dining-rooms, were thus designed to give the visitor to the store the impression of how an interior
ensemble completely furnished in the house would look. See the catalog A La Place Clichy.
Ameublements et meubles en bois. Lundi 4 Avril, ouverture des nouveaux salons de Tapisserie (Paris:
A la Place Clichy, 1898) found in the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 284 Avril 1898).

503
See the 1895 invitation A la Place Clichy. Jeudi 4 Juillet. Solde des tapis ayant sérvi à la
décoration du Salon des Artistes Français, preserved in the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC
284 juillet 1895). These carpets were subsequently sold on the department store’s premises. For the
department store’s contribution to the 1898 Exposition d'Hygiène et de Sauvetage see the catalog
Grands Magasins de la Place Clichy. La Première Maison du Monde pour ses Importations de Tapis
du Levant. Lundi 21 Novembre et jours suivants seront soldés avec des Rabais énormes Les
Merveilleux Tapis, Portières, Meubles de tous Styles ayant décoré l'Exposition d'Hygiène et de
Sauvetage (Grand Palais des Champs-Elysées) (Paris: A la Place Clichy, 1898) in the collection of the
Bibliothèque Forney (CC 284 Nov. 1898).

504
See A la Place Clichy: Les Tapis, les tentures, les sieges ayant servi à la decoration du Salon des
Artistes Français seront soldés avec des rabais énormes, Lundi 6 juillet ([Paris]: [A la Place Clichy],
[1903]) in the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 284 1903 juillet).

505
Abel-Truchet studied with Benjamin Constant (1845-1902) and Jules Lefebvre (1836-1912) at the
Académie Julien. For more information on Abel-Truchet, see Bénézit, Dictionnaire critique et
docummentaire, vol. 1, p. 26.

268
the narrow strip of drapery covering-up the wall underneath the beautifully-framed
painting in the first image, the well-cushioned sofa that provided the much-needed
resting place amidst seemingly interminable rows of three-dimensional sculptures in
the second, as well as the masses of drapery camouflaging the hastily-raised socles
that showcased the smaller decorative objects on display in the third – all of which
probably were the much-advertized contributions of A la Place Clichy department
store. Their presence in Truchet’s illustrations, however, was subdued not only by the
artwork shown at the Salon des Artistes Français but also by the three feminine
presences that were the artist’s main emphasis in each of the scenes represented.
Embodying the ideal female visitor to the Salon, in awe at the magnificent display of
artwork yet endowed with a well-versed connoisseurial eye that intently examined
every element of the various pieces on view, Truchet’s three graces could also be
found, the pamphlet suggested, at the Place de Clichy – ready to take on the visual
challenges of the store’s commercial aesthetic. The pamphlet thus opened with an
illustration of a female figure on her way, possibly, to the store. (Fig. 4.4) With the
guide to the Salon des Artistes Français very likely in hand, which reminded her of
the artistic exhibition recently witnessed, she was now ready to re-visit some of the
objects that exhibition had contained within the galleries of the commercial enterprise
that was A la Place de Clichy. It was to such aesthetically-minded and sensitive
clients that A la Place de Clichy dedicated its sale of carpets, draperies, and seats that
it had contributed to the Salon des Artistes Français – items which were now


269
available for purchase in store, “at an enormous discount.”
506
Department stores thus
capitalized on their association with the world of high art. By presenting their own
objects in the same venues as original works of modern art, they reached an audience
that might have otherwise not visited their own commercial spaces. By then selling
the same objects they had contributed to those artistic shows on their premises, they
both capitalized on the items’ association with the world of art and offered to sell that
“art aspect” to their customers.
Selling art, indeed, took various forms within the precincts of Parisian
department stores. If, as we have already seen, Au Bon Marché and the Grands
Magasins du Louvre were exhibiting and sometimes selling artworks right off their
walls, A la Place Clichy commercialized furniture pieces and other decorative objects
that it had shown at renowned art exhibition and which, through their association with
the world of “high art,” became of equal value to those art objects they had initially
been displayed to accentuate. Other department stores sold art through their monthly
news journals. Originally founded in 1784 and heavily-restored in 1872 after the fires
that swept Paris during the Commune, the Grands Magasins Au Tapis Rouge was yet
another Parisian department store that saw as an advantage its association with the
world of art.
507
Owned by 1883 by MM. Fleck frères, Au Tapis Rouge presented

506
Ibid.

507
The Tapis Rouge started as a magasin de nouveautés in1784. See Lundi – 1er février. Mise en vente
extraordinaire de 11 à 12 millions de soieries, lainages, toiles, blancs rideaux, etc. dans les Grands
Magasins de Nouveautés au Tapis Rouge (Paris: Au Tapis Rouge, 1869), a catalog preserved in the
collections of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 1846 1869 A). Au Tapis Rouge burnt down on May 24,
1871, and was reconstructed and newly opened the following year. See Album de l'Ameublement des
Grands Magasins de Nouveautés du Tapis Rouge (Paris: Au Tapis Rouge, [1883]) from the collection

270
itself as the most important furniture store in Paris and had an impressive exhibition
history, including the 1878 Paris Exposition universelle, the 1879 Paris Exposition de
l’Industrie, the 1881 Exposition internationale d'éléctricité, and the 1883 Paris
Exposition de l’Industrie, where it received a gold medal.
508
At least since 1883, Au
Tapis Rouge began publishing its own journal. Titled Journal du Tapis Rouge: Echo
des nouveautés parisiennes, the journal was a monthly publication that could be
purchased at the extremely low price of one franc per year.
509
The subscription also
included an engraving ready to be framed and thus suited for display in the home,
which in 1883 was titled La Patrie de Cartes.
510
The price of the journal thus
incorporated a piece of art that every reader was entitled to at no additional cost. The
department store, in this way, used the medium of print not only to advertise its
commercial undertakings but also as a means to promote and distribute collectibles,
which one could choose to frame and display as artworks in one’s home.
Au Tapis Rouge continued this practice of distributing art objects through its
house-journal over the years. In 1886, for example, the Journal du Tapis Rouge
offered its subscribers the 27 by 31 centimeters engraving titled L’Orage, its “usual,”
“ready-to-be-framed” art piece, for free, as well as a chain for a watch in the style

of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 1846 [1880] A). Also see Da Silveira, “Les Grands Magasins du
Louvre,” p. 13.

508
Album de l'Ameublement des Grands Magasins de Nouveautés du Tapis Rouge (Paris: Au Tapis
Rouge, [1883]).

509
See the Journal du Tapis Rouge: Echo des nouveautés parisiennes ([Paris]: [Au Tapis Rouge],
1883), an issue preserved in the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 1846 1883 A).

510
Ibid.

271
Régence or a card case made of English leather at no more than one additional franc
to the usual subscription fee.
511
Two years later, in 1888, the store offered as a bonus
an engraving selected from the collection of the Maison Goupil, the most renowned
publishers of reproductive prints and photographs at the time.
512
The department
store thus increasing the status of the art it offered by association with a well-known
dealer in art reproductions.
To celebrate the centennial of the French Revolution, Au Tapis Rouge offered
its clients upon the minimum purchase of twenty-five francs a calendar endowed with
a reproduction of a painting by the French artist Émile Bayard (1837-1891), mostly
known today for the illustrations he produced for magazines and books such as Victor
Hugo’s Les Misérables (1862) and Jules Vernes’ From the Earth to the Moon
(1865).
513
For two additional francs added to the subscription fee, one was also
entitled to a “Pharaoh” brooch in the Egyptian style in 1883 or a Gothic brooch in
1888.
514
Other objects of decorative art were added to reproductive engravings and
fashion accessories, and the Journal du Tapis Rouge became the medium through
which the department store attempted to attract a broad audience by selling knick-

511
Journal du Tapis Rouge: Echo des nouveautés Parisiennes (1-10 Octobre 1886), issue preserved in
the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 1846 “1886” Oct).

512
Journal du Tapis Rouge: Echo des nouveautés Parisiennes (1-10 Dec. 1888), issue preserved in the
collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 1846 Dec. 1888). For more information on the Maison
Goupil, see Gérôme & Goupil.

513
Ibid.

514
Journal du Tapis Rouge: Echo des nouveautés parisiennes (1883) and Journal du Tapis Rouge:
Echo des nouveautés Parisiennes (1-10 Dec. 1888). To these artistic bonuses were often added other
goods, such as a box of eighty chocolates in 1883, upon the purchase of merchandise valuing a
minimum of twenty-five francs.

272
knacks that appealed to an aesthetic sensibility at cheap rates. Thus, in 1886, the
journal advertised a François Ier pendulum in black marble surmounted by a bronze
reproduction of Diana by Gable. Initially priced at one hundred francs, the pendulum
was proposed to Au Tapis Rouge’s clients at the reduced price of fifty-nine francs on
the occasion of the store’s one hundredth and first anniversaries.
515
(Fig. 4.5) An
image of this pendulum occupies the center of the journal’s first page, visually
matching in size and location the only other significant illustration on the cover,
namely, the store’s logo found right above it, at the top of the page. A matching set of
chandeliers could be obtained for the price of thirty-five francs, while two years later,
an entire set of three copper pieces in the Louis XIII style were offered as
mantelpiece decoration at the price of ninety-five francs altogether.
516
(Fig. 4.6)
Composed of a mantel clock and two candle-holders, this set of decorative objects
again took over half of the journal’s cover, emphasizing the significant role that the
applied arts, and the arts in general, held within the Tapis Rouge department store.
One needs only turn the pages of Au Tapis Rouge’s commercial catalogs to see how
chandeliers and mirrors bordered landscapes and still-lives on the crowded pages of
such publications. (Fig. 4.7) Made in oil and framed by a golden border, landscapes
and still-lifes could be custom-sized according to the aesthetic taste of the purchaser,
the interior layout of his or her home, or the size of his or her pocket.
517
Art was thus

515
Journal du Tapis Rouge: Echo des nouveautés Parisiennes (1-10 Octobre 1886).

516
Ibid. and Journal du Tapis Rouge: Echo des nouveautés Parisiennes (1-10 Dec. 1888).

517
Journal du Tapis Rouge: Echo des nouveautés Parisiennes (1-10 Dec. 1888).

273
being bibelotised at the same time as other bibelots were elevated to the level of art,
yet more proof that the fine and decorative or industrial arts inhabited the same
universe in the nineteenth century, while they were equally made available to more
modest-income households through department stores and their published ventures.
Even more interesting was the commercial strategy devised by the Grands
Magasins de Pygmalion, another Parisian department store that bordered by 1878 the
Boulevard Sébastopol, the rue de Rivoli, and the Rue St-Denis, to enhance its sales
through the mediation of art.
518
Established as A l’Homme Armé by a certain
Taillebosq at the end of the eighteenth century, Pygmalion became by 1847 a
successful magasin de nouveautés that employed fixed prices and sold all manners of
cloth, from lingerie, carpets and draperies to canvas, wool, damask for furniture, and
silks.
519
After the Paris Commune, which caused one of Pygmalion’s buildings to
burn to the ground, the store turned to advertising as a primary means to attract
potential customers.
520
As historian Piedade da Silveira explains, within the catalogs
published by the store, the accent was placed on the quality and appearance of the
publications, which often included reproductions after old masters or works of

518
Album illustré des Grands Magasins de Pygmalion: Exposition Générale des nouveautés de la
Saison d'hiver (Paris: Pygmalion, September 1878), catalog preserved in the collection of the
Bibliothèque Forney (CC 289 Sept. 1878).

519
Piedade da Silveira, Deux magasins de nouveautés autour de la Porte Saint-Denis: A Pygmalion et
A la Ville de Paris (Paris: CCM 1998), p. 14.

520
Ibid., p. 45.

274
modern art, rather than on the merchandise that Pygmalion sold.
521
Thus, in the
1890s, Pygmalion also included within its catalogs coupons for the acquisition of
artistic reproductions after modern paintings, specifically engraved for the store by
the Maison d’édition Goupil & Cie.
522
The possession of such a coupon assured the
acquisition of one of two such engravings free of charge, regardless of the amount of
money that one decided to spend in the store.
523
Furthermore, for those desiring to
hang their newly-acquired engraving on the wall, Pygmalion offered the possibility to
do so by proposing an already-devised frame specially-designed for the occasion by
the artist Louis Popineau, a long-term associate of the house.
524
Art was thus made
affordable to everyday people, while also being used as a means to attract customers
directly to the store. Even the smallest purchase guaranteed the promised reward; and
once one entered the department store’s premises, one rarely left with only one thing
to take home. In this way, the relationship between art and commerce was by no
means a straight-forward one. Art triggered commerce and commerce offered art.
Nowhere was the relationship between art and commerce better exploited than
in the furnishing and interior decorating sections of the department stores. Indeed, the
second and perhaps most important means through which Parisian department stores

521
Ibid. Da Silveira also mentions the so-called Carnets d’artiste, which the store only appears to have
begun publishing in the twentieth century. Thus, in 1909 appeared Carnet d’artiste: Les Soieries au
théâtre and in 1910 Carnet d’artiste: Les Soieries illustrées (Drapées et Étendards), two examples out
of the ten publications that Da Silveira identifies.

522
See the untitled Pygmalion catalog in the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 289 [1890] A).

523
Ibid.

524
Ibid. Popineau would be the one contributing the drawings for the illustrations of the 1909 catalog
Carnet d’artiste: Les Soieries au théâtre.

275
of the latter quarter of the nineteenth century aligned themselves with the world of art
in or through these stores’ adoption of the role of interior decorators. Long before the
opening of La Primavera in 1912, seen by historians such as Leora Auslander as the
first atelier d’art run by a department store, Au Bon Marché, the Grands Magasins du
Louvre, Au Printemps, Au Tapis Rouge, Au Petit Saint-Thomas, Pygmalion and A la
Place Clichy offered furnishing and decorating services that culminated with the
creation of “complete installations” [installations complètes] within private homes.
525

While some of these stores incorporated design offices on their premises, with
designers specifically employed to draw sketches based on clients’ suggestions,
others packaged their interior decorating advice through the publication of numerous
artistic illustrations of room ensembles within their specialized catalogs. Cooperating
with painters, engravers, and industrial designers who were well-versed in designing
“complete interiors,” department stores contributed through their catalogs to the
advancement of the artistic genre of interior landscapes and offered expert decorating
advice while vouching to recreate illustrated interiors within their clients’ private
homes.
526


525
For the use of this term, see the catalog titled Au Bon Marché Nouveautés: Album de
l'ameublement. Maison Aristide Boucicaut ([Paris]: [Au Bon Marché], s.d.) of about 1880, as dated by
both the Bibliothèque Forney and the Bibliothèque des arts décoratifs (P 48 – arts décoratifs and
CC182 [1880] C – Forney), p. 34. Also see the Album illustré de modes nouvelles: Exposition générale
à partir de Lundi 9 Mars Au Tapis Rouge ([Paris]: [Au Tapis Rouge], [1870]) from the collection of
the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 1846 [1870] A).

526
For an analysis of the circulation and display of these “complete interior” views at the time, see
Chapters 2 and 3 of this dissertation.

276
Indeed, as historian Deborah Cohen has demonstrated with regards to Britain,
beginning with the second half of the nineteenth century, the furnishers that thrived
were those who could maintain a full-service establishment, offering curtains, carpets,
paper hangings, bibelots, dining-room furniture and bedsteads all at once.
527
Maple &
Co., Gillow’s, Holland & Sons, and Liberty & Co. in London, or Mazaroz, Ribaillier
et Cie and Damon et Cie (successors of Kriger) in Paris were well-known
establishments that transformed the craft of cabinet-making into a successful retail
establishment that offered full decorating services at the same time.
528
Damon, for
example, employed the services of well-known architectes-décorateurs such as
Alexandre Sandier (1843-1914) to design both its individual furniture pieces and
large-scale decorative scheme realized for universal exhibitions or upper-class
residences both at home and abroad.
529
Guéret Jeune et Cie, a cabinet-making firm
that also provided decorating, sculpting, and upholstering services, worked in the
1880s with draftsmen such as Théodore Villeneuve, who designed most of its
individual furniture items as well as coordinated complete interior architectural
schemes.
530
In ca. 1895, Villeneuve published Intérieurs d'appartements de haut style
vus en perspective d'après les travaux des Frères Guéret, a book of drawings of

527
Cohen, Household Gods, p. 50.

528
Ibid., pp. 51-52, and Nouvel-Kammerer, Le Mobilier Français, p.19.

529
For more information on Alexandre Sandier and his work for Damon, please refer to Chapter 5.

530
See Théodore Villeneuve, [Mobilier de styles divers. Dessins originaux], a collection of drawings
by Villeneuve from ca. 1880 preserved in the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (Rés. 5478
Iconogr).

277
interiors in various styles that ranged from the Renaissance to Louis XVI and which
were inspired by his work at the Maison Guéret.
531
Throughout his career, and very
likely after he had left the Maison Guéret, Villeneuve published no fewer than five
other books featuring interior decoration designs and contributed to two others.
532

Indeed, through Villeneuve, an artist whose designs were translated into real furniture
pieces due to his collaboration with Parisian furniture manufacturers, cabinet-making
and interior decorating firms such as that of Guéret Frères contributed the
advancement of the artistic genre of interior landscapes. They not only modeled the
furniture they produced and commercialized after designs that circulated in print but
also published their own furniture models and interior decorating patterns.
Department stores followed suit. Following their well-established creed that
everything related to personal or home adornment should be acquired under one roof,
they also sold individual furniture items and offered full decorating services on their
premises. In terms of furniture, Boucicaut’s Au Bon Marché began to sell beds in the

531
Théodore Villeneuve, Intérieurs d'appartements de haut style vus en perspective d'après les travaux
des Frères Guéret (Paris: Librairie d'art décoratif Armand Guérient, [1895]).

532
See Théodore Villeneuve, Nouvelle collection de dessins d'ornements, panneaux el meubles, etc.
(Paris: Armand Guérinet, 1909); Théodore Villeneuve, Meubles d’art de différents styles (Paris:
Armand Guérinet, ca. 1908); Théodore Villeneuve, Meubles de chambres à coucher (Paris: Armand
Guérinet, ca. 1908); Théodore Villeneuve, Meubles de divers styles, nouvelle série (Paris: Armand
Guérinet, ca. 1908 ); and Théodore Villeneuve, Le Mobilier d'art: Meubles, cheminèes et tentures
(Paris: Ch. Juliot, 1889). Also see Villeneuve, Marcal, Bajot, etc., 300 Sièges de tous styles (Paris:
Armand Guérinet, ca. 1908) and MM. Guéret Frères, Théodore Villeneuve, Achard, and Marcal,
Supplément au Traité Théorique et Pratique de L’Ébénisterie d’après Roubo, contenant des modèles de
meubles de tous styles, la plupart exécutes, accompagnés de plans, coupes, profiles et détails (Paris:
Ch. Juliot, 1892). Achard was the former chef d’atelier of two other Parisian cabinet-making and
interior decorating firms – namely those of Fourdinois and Sauvrezy.

278
1850s.
533
By the 1870s it appears to have added chairs and tables, and in the 1880s it
already offered “a full selection of furniture and furnishings.”
534
Although as late as
1885 Au Bon Marché appears to have relied on external manufacturers for the supply
of most of the furniture it offered for sale, by the mid-1870s, Boucicaut’s store had
nevertheless opened an upholstery workshop that specialized in the production and
upholstering of seating furniture and the creation of bed, bay, door, and window
curtains for private bedrooms, drawing-rooms and dining-rooms.
535
Thus, while the
house could guarantee in the 1880s the quality of its seating furniture, which it
produced in its own workshops and for which it employed materials of superior
quality, it could also appeal to the buyer through the richness of its furniture
storerooms, which included all manners of furniture needed to complete a room’s
ensemble in addition to the locally-made chairs and sofas ready to be upholstered as
per client’s instructions.
536

As suggested by the store’s catalog cover of about 1880, under the guidance
of a young Marianne, blessed with the fruits of the earth, the forest, and the sea, and
the very personification of France under the Third Republic, Au Bon Marché offered

533
Clive Edwards, Turning Houses into Homes: A History of the Retailing and Consumption of
Domestic Furnishings (Aldershot, England and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2005), p. 121.

534
Ibid.

535
See Au Bon Marché, Maison Aristide Boucicaut et Fils: Exposition publique des nouveautés de la
saison. Le 11 octobre et jours suivants et grande mise en vente de nombreuses occasions. Catalogue
des principales occasions (Paris: [Au Bon Marché], [1875]) preserved in the collection of the
Bibliothèque Forney (CC 182 [1875] Oct).

536
Au Bon Marché Nouveautés: Album de l'ameublement. Maison Aristide Boucicaut (P 48 – arts
décoratifs and CC182 [1880] C – Forney), p. 18 and p. 46.

279
its customers the possibility of furnishing their entire house under its guidance. (Fig.
4.8) Beds and cabinets, mirrors and paintings, pianos and chairs, as well as a plethora
of draperies, carpets, and cushions, strategically placed throughout the picture so as to
create the semblance of a real room, could be acquired from the same place upon a
mere order from the catalog. Jules Carot, the artist responsible for the catalog’s cover
that year, and whose name can be seen engraved in the lower right-hand corner of the
architectural composition framing the scene, emphasized the role of the department
store in the field of interior decorating by conferring upon it the role of a master-
puppeteer responsible for the staging of private interiors.
537
The open curtain
revealing the store’s decorating talents was held in place by trappings attached to an
architectural frame that stood for Au Bon Marché itself. Indeed, the department
store’s storeroom, if we are to believe the furniture catalogs published at the time,
housed “complete furnishings” ready to be customized in whichever style and
upholstered with whatever material the client desired.
538
Usually composed of nine
pieces, including a sofa, four armchairs, and four chairs, a complete set of furniture
for the drawing-room [the salon] could be obtained at a moment’s notice (in person or
via a mail-order) by the mere mention of the numbers drawn underneath each image,

537
The artist who signed his name as “Jules Carot” could be the nineteenth-century painter of flowers
Jules-Etienne Carot, a student of Kreyder, who exhibited at the Salon since 1877. See Emmanuel
Bénézit, Dictionnaire critique et documentaire des peintres, sculpteurs, dessinateurs et graveurs de
tous les temps et de tous les pays, vol. 3 (Paris: Gründ, 1960), p. 327.

538
Au Bon Marché Nouveautés: Album de l'ameublement. Maison Aristide Boucicaut (P 48 – arts
décoratifs and CC182 [1880] C – Forney), p. 46.

280
the measurements desired (taken by the client upon the store’s instructions), and the
choice of upholstering fabric from the list available at the end of the catalog.
539

The same rules applied to all furniture pieces Au Bon Marché had in stock,
including the Louis XVI walnut bed drawn by a certain “P.P.” and engraved by Emile
Deschamps as item number #1 in the 1880 catalog (Fig. 4.9), as well as to all its
model draperies.
540
Through this method that involved the piecing together of the
various furniture elements within a room, the store promised to offer complete
furniture ensembles in any historical style desired. Thus, if the client wanted to order
furniture for an entire bedroom in the Louis XVI style and not just the Louis XVI
bed, he or she could find an illustration of how such an ensemble might look in the
store’s furniture catalogs. Another engraving by Deschamps, also signed by P.P.,
illustrated just such a Louis XVI bedroom, bed, seats, cabinets, draperies, and carpets
included.
541
(Fig. 4.10) Taking great care to represent the view of a possible interior
accurately, the artist included in his design the paintings on the wall, the decorative
sculptures and pottery atop the two cabinets lining the bed, as well as the fireplace
with its customary accessories, the mantel clock and two candle-holders, items

539
Ibid. and Au Bon Marché, Maison Artistide Boucicaut: Nouveautés, Album de l'Ameublement
(Paris, [1885]) from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 182 [1885] Sept).

540
While it is nearly impossible to determine who the delineator for this specific Au Bon Marché
catalog was, who signed his work with “P.P.,” we know that the nineteenth-century engraver Emile
Deschamps probably was a student of Brévière. See Bénézit, Dictionnaire critique et documentaire,
vol. 4.

541
Au Bon Marché Nouveautés: Album de l'ameublement. Maison Aristide Boucicaut (P48 – arts
décoratifs and CC182 [1880] C – Forney).

281
readily available at both Au Bon Marché and in other Parisian department stores.
542

The bed, as already seen, could also be ordered immediately from the store, and so
could the various seats situated all-around the room. In fact, the next few pages of the
catalog showed the various styles and groupings of chairs that Au Bon Marché
offered, including a set of so-called Pompadour seats that could fit into such a room.
(Fig. 4.11) When one compares the Louis XVI bedroom with the seating furniture
illustrated right after it, a clear parallel can be drawn between the furniture that the
department store had in stock and the complete interiors that it tried to sell its
customers.
More interestingly, before the end of the century, Au Bon Marché also
advertized a special office of designers, upholsterer-decorators, whom it purposely
hired to provide sketches of the installations clients desired as well as their respective
monetary estimates.
543
One could thus hope to obtain an original and unique interior
setting designed by the team of decorators of a grand magasin well before the second
decade of the twentieth century when the ateliers d’art were born. Au Bon Marché
could also furnish the personnel needed to help install the draperies and various other

542
By the end of the century, Au Bon Marché prided itself in the artistic objects that it made available
to its customers, including bronzes for furniture [bronzes d’ameublement] and the so-called “articles de
fantaisie.” See Au Bon Marché, Maison Aristide Boucicaut: Lundi 19 Septembre et jours suivants,
Exposition spéciale de Tapis, Ameublements ([Paris]: [Au Bon Marché], [1898]) preserved in the
collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 182 Sept 1898).

543
See Au Bon Marché Nouveautés, Maison Aristide Boucicaut: Album de l'Ameublement, Tapisserie,
sièges & décors ([Paris]: [Au Bon Marché], [1899]) in the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC
182 1899 Oct C).

282
furnishing objects provided by the store.
544
By now, the store could offer any sort of
object needed for the interior decoration of private apartments, including wall
paneling of various styles, mirrors, as well as Gothic and other artistic stained-glass
windows, for the latter of which it could also provide watercolor models.
545

In whichever style one desired to furnish their private rooms, therefore, Au
Bon Marché was there to help. At least since the first decade of the Third Republic,
the store had already offered furniture, fabrics and decorative objects from the Orient
on its premises and organized lavish expositions and sales to promote them.
546
For the
acquisition of these objects, the house had employed its own travelers, who could
thus guarantee the authenticity of all the items displayed.
547
In the 1880s, therefore,
the store could propose a “complete installation” of a bathroom in the Moorish style,
as well as a Louis XIII cabinet de travail delineated by Jules Carot and engraved by
Bisson, a Renaissance dining-room, and a Louis XV grand salon designed by the
mysterious P.P. at the same time.
548


544
Ibid. Au Bon Marché workers could be hired to help arrange furnishings that were not obtained
from the store itself as well. In such instances, Au Bon Marché charged one franc and twenty centimes
per each hour a worker spent away from the store.

545
Ibid.

546
See Au Bon Marché Nouveautés: Exposition Spéciale et grande mise en vente de Tapis de France,
d’Angleterre et de toutes les contrées de l’Orient, des meubles artistiques des Indes et de toutes les
Étoffes concernant l’ameublement (Paris: Aristide Boucicaut et fils, 1876), from the Recueil de
catalogues Au Bon Marché at the Bibliothèque Nationale (FOL-WZ- 211).

547
Ibid.

548
Au Bon Marché Nouveautés: Album de l'ameublement. Maison Aristide Boucicaut (P 48 – arts
décoratifs and CC182 [1880] C – Forney).

283
Despite the often-raised accusations of monopoly over its artists’ designs,
which translated into an erasure of the designer’s name to be replaced by that of the
department store, Au Bon Marché, in fact, was proud of the names of the artists
contributing the design of complete interiors published in its catalog. Throughout
most of its publications, the department store put a clear emphasis on the artistic
aspect of these illustrations, most of which were carefully signed by the artists
responsible for the designs. Thus, for example, the Louis XIII cabinet de travail by
Jules Carot mentioned above clearly had the name of the artist marked on the lower
right and of the engraver on the lower left. (Fig. 4.12) About five years later, another
illustration of a cabinet de travail in the Louis XIII style was published, this time
produced by E. Mathiot and engraved by Emile Deschamps, whose names were also
clearly marked on the lower right and, respectively, lower left-hand side.
549
(Fig.
4.13) Unlike Carot, however, who was primarily in charge of the complete room
illustrations in Au Bon Marché’s earlier catalogs, starting with the mid-1880s,
Mathiot also signed the individual drapery or furniture objects proposed by this
department store, including the seats and various bed arrangements that the store
provided. Sometimes listing his entire name, sometimes using only his initials (Fig.
4.14), Mathiot thus appears to have also been the draftsman in charge of Au Bon
Marché’s furniture workshop designs and not merely the illustrator hired by the house

549
Au Bon Marché, Maison Artistide Boucicaut: Nouveautés, Album de l'Ameublement (Paris: [Au Bon
Marché], [1885]) from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 182 [1885] Sept). The
Bibliothèque Nationale owns the same catalog, which it dates to 1881 (see FOL- WZ- 211, box Au
Bon Marché 1881 et Hiver 1881-1882).

284
to promote its merchandize. This assumption is further supported by a series of about
four hundred original drawings of furniture pieces and decorative ensembles in
different styles signed by Mathiot and located in the collections of the Bibliothèque
Forney.
550
Indeed, the designer produced numerous drawings of individual furniture
pieces, which, given their rather schematic nature, suggests that they were intended
for a production workshop rather than aesthetically-pleasing commercial publications,
which Au Bon Marché’s catalogs intended to be. With an address listed at 128,
Boulevard Voltaire in Paris, E. Mathiot’s workshop suggests he was a prolific
draftsman, whose contributions to the furniture department of Au Bon Marché were
multiple: he provided the drawings for the furniture pieces the store produced all by
itself or hired others to manufacture, as well as contributed the drawings to be
engraved within the department store’s illustrated catalogs. His name was proudly
listed for the clients to see within the store’s most-circulated commodities: its
catalogs. By virtue of signing of images in catalogs, the former artisanal art of
furniture-making moved into the mass market, yet maintained the veneer of the hand
of the designer.
551


550
See the six volumes of drawings listed under: E. Mathiot, [Mobilier de styles divers. Dessins
originaux] ([1880]) in the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (Rés. Ico. 5479).

551
Art historian Nancy Troy has also observed this trend in relation to twentieth-century mass-
produced furniture and decorative items advertised by artistic workshops such as Paul Poiret’s La
Maison Martine or Louis Süe’s L’Atelier Français. See Troy, Modernism and the Decorative Arts, p.
169. Leora Auslander has argued that mass production had reduced the possibility of consumers
having a say in the creation of objects. However, she recognizes that specialized furniture stores
continued to offer expert advice “packaged in the form of decorators, sample rooms, photographs and
catalogs.” See Auslander, Taste and Power, p. 326.

285
Au Bon Marché continued the practice of aligning its name with the world of
art through an attention bestowed upon designers throughout the rest of the nineteenth
century. In the 1890s, the department store employed the services of the painter and
wood engraver Emile de Ruaz (1868-1931), none other than the President of the
Société de la Gravure sur Bois and a member of the Société des Artistes Français at
the time.
552
Since 1890, De Ruaz had frequently showed at the Salon des Artistes
Français, where he won a bronze medal in 1900, as well as at the Salon des
Indépendents.
553
De Ruaz not only contributed illustrations of room ensembles to Au
Bon Marché’s furniture catalogs, but he also engraved and possibly designed the
cover for the store’s ca. 1899 album d’ameublement.
554
(Fig. 4.15) Under the
guidance of Marianne, and within the frame already familiar to Au Bon Marché
customers, De Ruaz emphasized the store’s renewed attention to room ensembles.
Framed by a curtain that opened up onto the stage of a highly-decorated private
interior complete with mirrors, chandelier, and exotic plants, and an early example of
the numerous drawings of interiors to be found inside, the title-page was a visual list
of the kinds of furnishings undoubtedly awaiting the customer at the store.

552
Emile Louis de Ruaz (1868-1931), as well as his brother, Georges de Ruaz (born in 1871) were
students of Blanadet. Georges showed at the Salon des Artistes Français starting with 1907. See
Bénézit, Dictionnaire critique et documentaire, vol. 12, p. 407.

553
Ibid.

554
Au Bon Marché Nouveautés, Maison Aristide Boucicaut: Album de l'Ameublement. Tapisserie,
sièges & décors ([Paris]: [Au Bon Marché], [1899]) from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney
(CC 182 1899 Oct C).

286
Indeed, the relationship between art and commerce was never a straight-
forward one. And nowhere is this better illustrated than in an earlier catalog from ca.
1898 to which De Ruaz also contributed designs.
555
If, in ca. 1899, a Louis XV
bedroom design by De Ruaz (Fig. 4.16) stood all alone in the catalog without any
evident reference to its connection to commerce but for the number listed underneath,
a year earlier, the same Louis XV bedroom (Fig. 4.17) had the prices of the various
furniture pieces that composed it listed below. Thus, for example, the wardrobe with
full-sized mirror on the right could be purchased from the store at no less than 525
francs, while the bed could be obtained at 325 francs and the bed decoration at 525
francs. Similarly, the night-table situated right next to the bed cost 115 francs, while
the window-hanging was worth 210 francs. Indeed, this kind of straight-forward
information was suppressed in some catalogs more so than in others, a fact which
often led scholars to believe that no direct relationship could be drawn between the
items department stores sold and the drawings they used to illustrate their catalogs.
Rather, I would like to suggest that the amount of information listed in any one
catalog represented a conscious decision on the part of the store with regards to how
to present its merchandize to the public: more readily accessible in terms of price and
quality, as shown in the ca. 1898 catalog (Fig. 4.17), or more artistic and removed
from the world of commerce in ca. 1899 (Fig. 4.16).
556
Au Bon Marché could afford

555
Au Bon Marché, Maison Aristide Boucicaut: Lundi 19 Septembre et jours suivants, Exposition
spéciale de Tapis, Ameublements ([Paris]: [Au Bon Marché], [1898]) from the collection of the
Bibliothèque Forney (CC 182 Sept 1898).

556
Similar debates were also taking place in the world of high art, with regard to how artists should
present their “merchandize” to the public: either as part of the world of commerce at various official

287
to do so, since it obviously maintained publication rights over the images it used as
illustrations in its catalogs, reproducing them over and over again, as it saw fit.
557

Either way, it is clear that the appeal of furnishings as art had an important
role to play in the design of Au Bon Marché’s furnishing catalogs since the beginning
of the 1880s. In turn, Jules Carot, E. Mathiot, Emile de Ruaz, and others competed
against each other to provide illustrations of furniture ensembles that could literally
have taken shape within nineteenth-century private interiors, while keeping an eye on
the aesthetic accomplishment of their designs at the same time. Designs such as E.
Mathiot’s Modern Bedroom of ca. 1885 (Fig. 4.18) lacked nothing in quality of
execution and spirit of imagination, visually paralleling such decorative ensembles
published in the illustrated periodical Le Magasin de meubles as the Fifteenth-
Century Gothic Bedroom discussed in Chapter 2, especially in the way wall coverings
were applied all-around the room (Fig. 4.19), as well as such designs as G. Félix
Lenoir’s plate of a Lit de repôs from his 1879 Décors des fenêtres et des lits.
558
(Fig.

and dealer-sponsored exhibitions or secluded from this mercantile spirit within private workshops or
high-end dealers’ galleries. For a discussion of the late nineteenth-century art market see Nancy J.
Troy, “Domesticity, Decoration and Consumer Culture: Selling Art and Design in Pre-World War I
France,” in Christopher Reed, ed., Not at Home: The Suppression of Domesticity in Modern Art and
Architecture (London: Thames and Hudson, 1996), pp. 113-129; Sarah Burns, Inventing the Modern
Artist: Art and Culture in Gilded Age America (New Haven, Connecticut: Yale University Press,
1999), especially Chapter 2, “The Artist in the Age of Surfaces: The Culture of Display and the Taint
of Trade;” and Ward, “Impressionist Installations.”

557
The Louis XV Bedroom from its catalog of ca 1880 by P.P. discussed above is also reproduced in
the ca. 1899 catalog next to images by De Ruaz.

558
G. Félix Lenoir, Décors de tous styles: Décors de fenêtres et de lits, ensembles d'intérieurs et
dispositions diverses (Paris: Chez l’auteur, 1879). See Victor-Léon Quétin, Le Magasin de meubles
(no. 25): Tentures fantaisie, contenant 60 planches (Paris: V.L. Quétin, s.d.). This publication included
sixty images of interior decoration designs, all in color, taken from various installments of the original
journal publication, Le Magasin de meubles. For more information on Quétin’s and Lenoir’s work, see
Chapter 2 and, respectively, Chapter 3 of this dissertation.

288
4.20) Following a decorative line inspired by military tents, which originated under
the Empire and was characterized by war and victory symbolism as suggested in
Lenoir’s image through the statue of Athena on the right and that of a winged Victory
on the left, Mathiot’s design delighted in the representation of fabrics, which
occupied all available space in the room. The two cushions negligently thrown at the
base of the bed and the two superimposed carpets directly referenced Lenoir’s design,
which Mathiot might also have seen displayed at one of the universal exhibitions that
featured Lenoir’s works. The artist thus proved conversant with the popular interior
decoration designs at the time, which he then brought into the commercial
establishment that was Au Bon Marché. While Au Bon Marché’s catalog illustrations
might not have featured in any art exhibitions, unlike some interior decoration
designs published by the British furniture and interior decorating firm of Howard &
Sons that were the exact reproductions of colored drawings by William Frederick
Randall, Howard & Son’s “house artist,” and that had been accepted by and hung in
the Royal Academy, it is certain that the Bon Marché illustrations responded to
pictures of interiors shown at exhibition in very direct ways.
559

Later designs by a certain “M.T.” took Au Bon Marché’s illustrations of
interiors one step closer to the art world. Thus, both in a Louis XV Drawing-Room


559
See Howard & Sons, Designs for Furniture and Decorations from the collection of Winterthur
Library (NK2265 H84* TC). While Winterthur dates this catalog to ca. 1885, Randall’s designs are
mentioned as having been shown at the Royal Academy in 1889 and 1891. Hence, the catalog must
have been published at least in 1891. The architect William Frederick Randall also exhibited designs of
interiors at the Royal Academy in 1879, 1886, 1888, and 1894. See Algernon Graves, The Royal
Academy of Arts, p. 235.

289
Interior and in a design for a bay-curtain between two drawing-rooms (Fig. 4.21),
included in the ca. 1899 catalog to which De Ruaz contributed the cover, the artist
imagined spectacular room ensembles themselves worthy of exhibition at the
Salon.
560
Playing with curtains and draperies, which had received pride of place at Au
Bon Marché since the 1870s when the store opened its atelier de tapisserie, the artist
showed his skill at rendering “interior dreamscapes,” as the artistic genre of the model
interior began to be called at the time.
561
Favoring large, open spaces with spectacular
bay curtains that both hinted at and surreptitiously revealed marvelous spaces beyond,
the artist thus created works that could be treated on par with those already known to
the French public at the time, especially by Lenoir, who had also played with the
visual device of the drapery to attract viewers into the represented space.
562

Indeed, as art historian Susan Sidlauskas argues, nineteenth-century pictures
of interiors might be labeled as “precinematic,” in that they were activated “not by the
moving frame of the filmic image, but by the complicity of the spectator” at the
time.
563
French viewers, according to her, were well attuned to mentally animate
architectural forms, as well as to “project themselves imaginatively into whatever

560
Au Bon Marché Nouveautés, Maison Aristide Boucicaut: Album de l'Ameublement. Tapisserie,
sièges & décors ([Paris]: [Au Bon Marché], [1899]) from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney
(CC 182 1899 Oct C). For a discussion of how interior decoration designs published in print related to
watercolors and paintings exhibited at Salons, see Chapter 3.

561
For the origin of the term, see Chapter 3.

562
For a discussion of the works of G. Félix Lenoir and their circulation within various institutions of
display at the time, please refer to Chapter 3.

563
Susan Sidlauskas, Body, Place, and Self in Nineteenth-Century Painting (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2000), p. xiv.

290
space was described or represented.”
564
They could thus virtually enter inside the
picture-frame and imaginatively access the space beyond the threshold visually
described for them through the metaphor of the drapery. Lenoir had already used
draperies in his 1879 book apparently to similar ends. In his designs for door-curtains
in the Regency and, respectively, the Louis XVI styles, he seemed to invite the
viewer to enter the space beyond the one represented in his drawings, space which
was only vaguely hinted at through a wooden cabinet or, respectively, a highly-
decorated table surmounted by a mirror. (Fig. 4.22) By playing with such concepts
himself, and directly engaging with the work of Lenoir – whose influences we can
trace both in the open spaces favored by the catalog and in the arrangement of
pictures within it – the artist of the ca. 1899 Au Bon Marché catalog thus responded
to his contemporary art world, while mentally enticing the viewer into the world the
store was ready to set up for him or her. While Lenoir had offered such “interior
dreamscapes” as The Opening onto a Petit Salon (Fig. 4.23) that foreshadowed Au
Bon Marché’s Décor of Opening (Separating Two Salons) (Fig. 4.21), the latter at
least held the promise of transposing that setting into the homes of the middle and the
upper-middle classes, and not only those of the rich, who could only afford to hire a
decorator like Lenoir. The art used to represent decors for upper-class private

564
Ibid., pp. 3-4. This process, according to Sidlauskas, was eased when other figures were found to
animate the picture-plane. In this instance, “any figure represented within that space becomes a
surrogate for the spectator’s own emphatic response,” Sidlauskas argues. See Sidlauskas, Body, Place,
and Self, p. 5.

291
interiors was mirrored in that used to sell middle and upper-middle class ones through
the complicity of department stores.
Au Bon Marché thus capitalized on the artistic power of its designs in that the
images were already familiar as “art,” yet it never completely forgot to nod to the
commercial nature of its undertakings. No matter how artistic its illustrations were,
the department store’s ca. 1899 catalog interspersed such practical information as the
prices of specific furniture elements here and there within its pages. Thus, for
example, right underneath a Décor Fantaisie for an Opening that Separates Two
Salons, one found the prices for an armchair and, respectively, a sofa. (Fig. 4.24) The
reader thus learned that, before upholstering, a walnut armchair for a drawing-room in
the Louis XVI style cost 260 francs, while a sofa in the same style cost 595 francs.
The same armchair in white-painted wood cost 275 francs and in gilt wood 380
francs, while the prices of the sofa also varied according to the type of wood
employed. Au Bon Marché thus sought to expand its market to include both an upper-
middle class public that was familiar with such artistic representations of interiors
from the famed decorators of the day and a public of lower financial means, who
aspired to have similar interiors yet lacked the financial possibilities of the other.
565

By offering furnishing for a Louis XVI Salon in three different types of woods, and,

565
Nancy Troy suggests that department stores such as Au Printemps and Au Bon Marché also wanted
to win over the upper-class market that would normally appeal to renowned private decorators for the
design of their interiors through the creation of their ateliers d’art workshops in the second and third
decades of the twentieth century. See Troy, Modernism and the Decorative Arts, p. 174. However, as
their earlier catalogs suggest, they had both a high-end and a middle-class audience in mind already in
the nineteenth century. It is my belief that it was through artistic illustrations that they attempted to
gain the former.

292
hence, at three different prices, the department store nodded to a diverse audience, all
the while making sure that customers could stay within the fashionable decors of the
day.
566
By employing highly-skilled illusionistic representations of interiors within
their catalog covers, department stores thus veiled their merchandise in an aura of art
and walked the tight rope between disclosing and hiding their commercial interests.
567

Initially designed to sell, their catalogs could by the end of the nineteenth century be
treated on the same par with artworks that decorators such as Lenoir exhibited at
Salons and other universal and decorative arts exhibitions.
The Grands Magasins du Louvre also positioned themselves as interior
decorators as early as the 1880s. Ever since the early years of the Third Republic, the
department store advertized an atelier de tapisserie that permitted the creation of
fabrics for furniture, draperies, and curtains.
568
By 1888, when the store saw
tremendous expansions, the Louvre already produced its own furniture, seats and
cabinetry included, not needing to request the assistance of outside suppliers

566
Their customers also included the non-Paris based population of provincial cities and rural areas as
well as of foreign countries, whose citizens were often enthralled by Parisian fashion. As such, mail-
order catalogs can be seen as having had a role in the homogenization of culture. See Crossick and
Jaumain, “The World of the Department Store,” p. 26.

567
Alexandra Keller demonstrates how Sears mail-order catalogs also functioned as a marketplace (“a
mall between two covers”) while appearing non-commercial at the same time (i.e.: marketed as
literature and entertainment for the rural population. See Alexandra Keller, “Disseminations of
Modernity: Representation and Consumer Desire in Early Mail-Order Catalogs,” in Leo Charney and
Vanessa R. Schwartz, eds., Cinema and the Invention of Modern Life (Berkeley, Los Angeles and
London: University of California Press, 1995), pp. 156-182.

568
See Grands Magasins du Louvre, les plus vastes du monde: Album des Modes (Paris: [Grands
Magasins du Louvre], [1873]) from the collection of the Bibliothèque des arts décoratifs (XE 1, vol.1,
1872-1876).

293
anymore.
569
The cover for its catalog advertizing a furnishings exposition and sale
from the same year confirmed the growing importance that furniture and objects of
interior design took on the store’s grounds. (Fig. 4.25) Behind the mandatory curtain
that drew the viewer into the picture-plane and onto which the name of the store was
prominently displayed lay a fully-furnished bedroom complete with all objects
customarily found in such a room, and which all could be obtained within the store.
To ease the process of order and acquisition, and due to the store’s new expansion
which allowed for more floor room, the atelier de tapisserie had been moved right
next to the department of furniture and bedding, and only one floor away from the
upholstery department.
570
In this way, the catalog boasted, the Grands Magasins du
Louvre was able to execute, under the direct supervision of the upholsterer-salesman
in charge of the commission, the most “complicated” order.
571
One did not always go
to the store, therefore, merely to buy furniture off-the-racks. Rather, the client could
express his or her own wishes and, in conversation with the upholsterer-salesman,
decide upon a desired style and design.
By the beginning of the twentieth century the upholstery department also
boasted of the displays of complete installations of room ensembles on the store’s

569
See Grands Magasins du Louvre: Exposition spéciale de tapis, carpettes, rideaux, et étoffes pour
ameublements, Lundi prochain, 17 Sept (Paris: [Grands Magasins du Louvre], [1888]) from the
collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 268: 1888 Sept.), p. 14.

570
Ibid.

571
Ibid.

294
grounds.
572
Upon request, the department could provide specialized plans of interiors
and cost estimates for its customers, a practice akin to that of specialist upholsterer-
decorators of the time.
573
Contrary to negative accounts, therefore, department stores
never imposed a uniform merchandize upon innocent buyers by all means and at all
costs. Rather, they took into consideration each individual client’s expectations and
needs, and customized their offerings accordingly. A re-evaluation of the commercial
practice of these stores, significant contributors to the furniture and interior
decorating trade at the time, is needed, not least in order to understand the
complexities of the relationship between the world of commerce and the world of art
in nineteenth-century France.
Indeed, by the last decade of the nineteenth century, the Grands Magasins du
Louvre added antiquities to their collection of furnishings, entering, as Susan Tise
explains about Au Bon Marché, in direct competition with yet “another important
branch of Parisian commerce in the decorative arts.”
574
Antique furniture and carpets
displayed in the so-called grandes galleries anciennes complemented modern
furniture and decorative objects produced in the styles of the past.
575
By the end of the

572
Grands Magasins du Louvre: Ameublement, Tapis, Carpettes-Literie, Exposition Lundi 17
Septembre 1900. Salon de style, exposition universelle de 1900, classe 71 (Paris: [Grands Magasins du
Louvre], 1900), from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 268 Sept. 1900).

573
Ibid.

574
See Grands Magasins du Louvre: Tapis, Carpettes, Meubles (Paris: [Grands Magasins du Louvre],
1893), from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 268: 1893 septembre). According to
Suzanne Tise, Au Bon Marché also opened its own antiques department around 1900. See Tise, “Les
Grands magasins,” p. 94.

575
Ibid.

295
century, the store identified its furnishing merchandise with the past to such an extent
that a new catalog cover suggested that, at the Louvre, one could easily acquire the
very life of that past through the adoption of the store’s interior designs and the
purchase of its objects. Indeed, in 1899, the Grands Magasins du Louvre advertized
its furnishing exposition through a catalog cover illustrating a medieval revival
dining-room highly influenced by the Arts and Crafts aesthetic. (Fig. 4.26) Holding a
small sculpture in his hand, possibly a reference to the antique objects on display
within the store, a young man dressed in medieval attire doubled as a connoisseur in
awe at the object’s beauty. Catalog covers such as this one, possibly showcasing the
types of antique and reproduction furniture available in the store, also were artistic
statements meant both to align the store with the world of art, in this case through the
adoption of an Arts and Crafts aesthetic, and to confirm the authenticity of its
antiques and the accuracy of its objects reproducing styles from the past.
Au Bon Marché, too, used similar visual strategies to confer authenticity upon
the merchandize it offered. For example, many of its catalog-covers advertizing sales
of objects imported from the Orient featured scenes that would have taken place
during the buying process in those countries. In ca. 1898, to announce its seasonal
exposition of furniture and carpets, Au Bon Marché showed its buyers in the process
of negotiating the acquisition of several carpets from local suppliers in North Africa.
(Fig. 4.27) Local producers appeared to make every effort to convince their guests of
the quality of their wares. But the absolute expertise of Au Bon Marché’s buyers, the
illustration seems to suggest, makes them judge harshly the goods on offer, knowing

296
that they made their selection on behalf of a clientele fully dependant on their powers
of decision. The store’s customers could thus trust the merchandize they acquired,
aware now of the amount of negotiation and connoisseurship that went into the
process of selection and acquisition. Although meant to increase the sale and the
commercial trustworthiness of the department store, such an image did not fail to
represent the allure of the foreign land represented by including scenes from the
everyday life of the exotic people that inhabited it in the background. Prominently
signed by the artist on the left-hand side, this image is yet another testimony to Au
Bon Marché’s desire to engage with the contemporary art world, where Orientalist
paintings were still very much in vogue.
576

Unlike Au Bon Marché, the Grands Magasins du Louvre did not emphasize
artists’ signature on their catalog covers, and their catalogs in general featured fewer
artistic illustrations than those of Au Bon Marché. However, the Grands Magasins du
Louvre did not praise the artistic effect of their illustrations and models any less than
their competitors did. While their illustrations often lacked the signatures of the artists
or engravers who brought them to life, the Grands Magasins du Louvre made sure to
deposit their models and designs with the French Ministry of the Interior, to assure

576
Such a catalog foreshadows later efforts by Au Bon Marché to associate itself with the world of art
by capitalizing on Orientalist paintings. In 1913, Au Bon Marché published a catalog in which it
reproduced several works by the well-known military and Orientalist painter Édouard Detaille (1848-
1912). See Aux visiteurs du Salon des Artistes Français 1913: L’Orient par Édouard Detaille offert
par les Grands Magasins du Bon Marché Paris, catalog in the collection of the Bibliothèque Nationale
(FOL WZ 211: 1895-1913). For more information on Orientalism in nineteenth-century paintings see
John M. MacKenzie, Orientalism: History, Theory and the Arts (Manchester: Manchester University
Press, 1996) and Frederick N. Bohrer, Orientalism and Visual Culture: Imagining Mesopotamia in
Nineteenth Century Europe (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003).

297
that no other commercial enterprise could copy and reuse them for its own benefits.
As their catalogs explained, the reproduction of their images was “strictly
prohibited.”
577
In this way, one could be sure of the originality of the images
employed within the Louvre’s various catalogs, since no image that had been
copyrighted by someone else could be deposited a second time. All images in the
Grands Magasin du Louvre catalogs were original and, like an artist who was the sole
owner of his work, so the commercial enterprise was the bearer of reproduction rights
over its images.
Following Au Bon Marché’s system of including the signature of the artist or
engraver responsible for the images within their catalogs, Au Printemps and Au Tapis
Rouge were two other Parisian department stores which sought to align themselves
with the world of art through interior design and illustrated interiors during their
commercial lives. In 1881, when the architect Paul Sédille (1836-1900) finished the
grand pavillon of Au Printemps on the boulevard Haussmann, the store of Jules
Jaluzot was already selling all manner of furniture employed in the decoration of
private interiors.
578
Cabinetry, seating furniture, draperies, carpets, and curtains were
all available on its grounds, regardless of whether they were also produced directly by

577
See Grands Magasins du Louvre: Exposition générale des nouveautés d'hiver (Paris: [Grands
Magasins du Louvre], 1873-74) from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 268: Hiver, 1873-
74).

578
See the Grands Magasins du Printemps: Album illustrée des ameublements (Paris: [Au Printemps],
1881) in the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 274 A 1881). Also see Suzanne Tise for
Sédille’s contribution, in Tise, “Les Grands magasins,” p. 88.

298
the store.
579
Objects of furnishing and decoration could, however, also be acquired on
commission, since, as an 1881 catalog explained, the store was ready to help its
clients complete an interior ensemble already in existence. By bringing in a sample of
the original fabric and a model or a sketch of the drapery or furniture piece desired,
Au Printemps vouched to produce the respective item as per client’s instructions.
580

Like competing department stores, therefore, Au Printemps never imposed its own
designs on customers, allowing them to pick and choose what they thought best for
their own interiors.
At the same time, however, Au Printemps’ catalogs proposed models of
furniture objects and decorative ensembles, which were immediately available in the
store for those who needed guidance. Many of these illustrations were signed in 1881
by the printmaker Charles Baude (b. 1853).
581
One cannot tell for sure whether Baude
was also responsible for the designs, whether he hired the illustrators who contributed
the images, or, for that matter, whether he merely reproduced designs supplied by the
store. While the precision with which the materials employed in the production of

579
Ibid. In 1887, for example, Au Printemps put on sale the decorative fixtures of the liner La
Champagne, which had collided with the steamship Ville de Rio de Janeiro earlier that year and which
the department store had bought in order to re-sell to its clients. See Grands Magasins du Printemps
Paris: Exposition spéciale de Tapis, étoffes pour ameublement, rideaux, literie, couvertures, gros
meubles, meubles de fantaisie, articles de la Chine et du Japon, Lundi 19 Septembre (Paris: [Au
Printemps], 1887), from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 274 1887). For more
information on the history of La Champagne, see “Paquebot LA CHAMPAGNE: Compagnie Générale
Transatlantique, 1886-1915,” http://www.frenchlines.com/ship_fr_250.php (visited Feb. 1, 2011).

580
Ibid.

581
See the Getty Research Institute’s Union List of Artist Names website, “Baude, Charles,”
http://www.getty.edu/vow/ULANFullDisplay?find=Baude&role=&nation=&prev_page=1&subjectid=
500049353 (visited January 30, 2011).

299
curtains were listed points in the direction of an Au Printemps employee, the
illustrations for window draperies, which also included the landscape or cityscape
beyond the window, suggest a more artistic hand. A window curtain Bonne Grâce
available in cotton at the price of eighty francs and in rep at one hundred and ten
revealed beyond its folds a typical Parisian street, with a set of apartment buildings
lined up across the road.
582
(Fig. 4.28) But while the careful representation of
elements such as the curtain’s creases and trimmings, and, maybe, even the wall
paneling around the window-frame – all directly responsible for the design’s general
appearance and suitability within the interior architecture of a room – made sense in a
department store catalog bent on selling its decorative ensembles, the view beyond
the window would not have been an absolute requirement or major selling point.
Charles Baude’s print of the Bonne Grâce curtain is similar in many respects to the
model interiors proposed in such serial magazine publications as Victor-Léon
Quétin’s Le Magasin de meubles or in such collections of highly-imaginative interior
decoration designs as G. Félix Lenoir’s Décors de fenêtres et de lits of 1879.
583

Indeed, Quétin’s Fenêtre Henri II à draperie from the 68
th
installment of his journal
presented just such a window-curtain design that included as the view beyond the
window a seascape, with beach, birds, and strollers included. (Fig. 4.29) Lenoir, too,
in 1879, presented what he labeled a Louis XIII window arrangement, whose primary

582
Grands Magasins du Printemps: Album illustrée des ameublements (Paris: [Au Printemps], 1881)
in the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 274 A 1881).

583
Quétin, Le Magasin de meubles (no. 25) and Lenoir, Décors de tous styles: Décors de fenêtres et de
lits.

300
role appears to have been the framing of the panorama beyond. (Fig. 4.30) Here, the
sky and the sea assume a central position, occupying about two-thirds of the picture-
plane. Unlike Quétin’s and Lenoir’s projects, however, which were meant to sell on
their own terms, and whose value lay in their artistic composition, Au Printemps’
catalog was meant to sell designs already available in the store and not to stand alone
as a work of art. But by adopting the same visual strategies that fellow interior
designers such as Lenoir did to attract clients, namely artistic compositions of
decorative ensembles, departments store such as Au Printemps did nevertheless
engage in visual conversations with artists and designers at the time. The presence of
such a landscape beyond a window within a commercial publication thus points to the
porous relationship that existed between the world of commerce and popular culture
and the world of art, with each clearly dependent on the other. Indeed, window
treatments such as those presented in the 1880s by Au Printemps could have
influenced works by painters such as Edvard Munch (1863-1944), whose Paris
period, roughly between 1890 and 1892, included many scenes set in interior settings,
by a window.
584
Thus, for example, Munch’s 1892 Kiss by the Window represents just
such a painting, in which the glimmering lights of a Parisian street lined-up with
apartment buildings recalls Au Printemps’ Bonne Grâce curtain design of roughly ten
years earlier. (Fig. 4.31) In their turn, such images directly reflect the works of art by
famous Impressionist painters of the day, including Gustave Caillebotte (1848-1894),

584
I would like to thank Hollis Clayson for bringing Munch’s paintings of interiors to my attention.

301
whose 1880 painting titled Interior, Woman at a Window could have provided a direct
inspiration to the Au Printemps artist. (Fig. 4.32)
Au Tapis Rouge followed the same practice of providing artistic interior
decoration designs interspersed among the pages of its furniture catalog. Advertizing
in the early years of the Third Republic as “the first house in Paris when it comes to
furniture” [la première Maison de Paris, en ce qui concerne l'Ameublement], Au
Tapis Rouge offered complete room installations for apartments and private hôtels.
585

According to its catalogs, during the 1870s the store had already brought to
completion several commissions of such complete installations;
586
and, during the
same decade, it doubled the variety of furniture and decorative objects that it
commercialized by adding an extra floor to the department of furniture and
draperies.
587
Home decoration was thus one of the principal areas in which this
department store excelled, and, by the 1880s, it appears to have also produced its own
furniture pieces and bedding.
588

While not all furniture and drapery designs that Au Tapis Rouge proposed
were signed by individual artists, many nevertheless carried the names of such
designers working for the industry as Charles Delfosse, Edouard Bajot, or Victor

585
See Au Tapis Rouge: Album illustré de modes nouvelles, Exposition générale à partir de Lundi 9
Mars (Paris: [Au Tapis Rouge], [1870s]), from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 1846
[1870] A).

586
Ibid.

587
See the Album de l'Ameublement des Grands Magasins de Nouveautés du Tapis Rouge (Paris: [Au
Tapis Rouge], [ca.1883]), from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 1846 [1880] A).

588
Ibid.

302
Rose. The latter is known to have exhibited at the Salon between 1870 and 1874 and
to have produced numerous industrial designs.
589
Indeed, since Rose signed his name
not only on the most artistic illustrations in Au Tapis Rouge’s catalogs, but also
underneath plates that can only be remarked upon by virtue of their simplicity and
straight-forwardness, it can be assumed that he was the designer not only of the
store’s catalog illustrations but, like Mathiot for Au Bon Marché, of some of the
various furniture objects or decorative schemes that the store produced as well. Thus,
on page fourteen of Au Tapis Rouge’s ca. 1883 catalog, the artist’s initials can be
found on the lower right-hand side, right beneath item number 806 designating a chair
that was part of a drawing-room ensemble of seating furniture. (Fig. 4.33)
Associating the store’s designs with a name familiar to Salon-goers undoubtedly
elevated the status of the objects the department store commercialized. It also
conferred a cachet or originality and artistic skill upon its commercial publications,
whose upholstery plates imitated the illustrations of publications such as Alfred
Guinard’s L’Ameublement artistique: Carton du tapissier du XI au XIX siècle, a
winner of a silver medal at the 1878 Paris universal exhibition.
590
Compare for
example plate number 39 from Guinard’s work illustrating a window curtain design

589
Ibid. The painter and draftsman Laurent Victor Rose was born in Chantilly. See Bénézit,
Dictionnaire critique et documentaire, vol. 11, p. 351. For more information on Bajot, see Chapter 1 of
this dissertation.

590
See Alfred Guinard, L’Ameublement artistique: Carton du tapissier du XI au XIX siècle (Paris:
l’auteur, 1881), from the collection of the Watson Library, at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Since
some of the plates in the book are dated 1878, they might have been among the ones which the artist
showed at the Universal exhibition, and thus be the ones which brought him the silver medal.
However, since other plates are dated later than 1878, it is hard to say whether they were also on view
in the show and whether Guinard was praised for the book in its totality or only some of its designs.

303
in the style of Henri II from the Louvre (Fig. 4.34) with plate 18 from Au Tapis
Rouge’s catalog of ca. 1883. (Fig. 4.35) Not only are these two images similar, but
the latter is an identical copy of the former, albeit of a much-lesser quality, with the
signature of the artist and the date of the design’s production completely removed.
Similarly, Guinard’s Louis XIV drapery from plate 51 (Fig. 4.36) is equally
reproduced in Au Tapis Rouge’s catalog as plate no. 20. (Fig. 4.37) This time,
however, the design is signed by Victor Rose instead of Alfred Guinard, suggesting
that the latter might not have had anything to do with it. Not only are we getting into
the unclear waters of nineteenth-century copyright law, but we also are presented
with clear proof that nineteenth-century department stores such as Au Bon Marché,
Au Printemps, or Au Tapis Rouge sought to associate their names advantageously
with designs already appreciated by a design-aware community. While they might be
at fault for possibly unlawfully reproducing these images, they must nevertheless be
credited with the conversion of what initially had been planned as paper designs to
real decorative schemes ready to be installed within nineteenth-century interiors.
Undoubtedly they had their own financial benefit in mind. Yet the general public
might not have seen the possibility of procuring a winning exhibition design for their
own windows at the modicum price of 150 or 195 francs a piece any less rewarding.
Au Petit St-Thomas, yet another Parisian department store that had its origins
in an 1810 magasin de nouveautés, went even further in appropriating its catalog

304
designs from the world of art.
591
Originally founded by a certain Simeon, by the
beginning of the 1880s the store was owned by Jolivard, Villain & Cie.
592
This is
probably the time when furniture and other objects of interior decoration began to be
included among the store’s merchandise. In 1884, Au Petit St-Thomas already had a
department of furniture and upholstery, which accepted commissions from customers
for draperies and upholstered seating furniture.
593
Before the end of the decade, it
boasted a special gallery permanently dedicated to the display of cabinetry, seating
furniture and draperies, with the latter of the two produced by the store’s own
employees.
594
In 1889, the house contributed furniture fabrics in styles of the past to
the Paris Exposition universelle, whose designs had been inspired from French
museums and which had specifically been created for the occasion.
595
In 1900, on the
occasion of the next universal exhibition locally held, the store won the gold medal in
the section dedicated to furniture and upholstery, where it exhibited complete
ensembles of furniture and decorative items.
596
By the end of the nineteenth century,

591
See Au Petit St-Thomas: Catalogue des Nouveautés, Saison d'Hiver 1878-79 (Paris: [Au Petit St-
Thomas], 1878-79), from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 278 1878-79).

592
Ibid.

593
See Maison du Petit Saint Thomas: Automne-Hiver 1884, Catalogue général (Paris: [Au Petit St-
Thomas], 1884) from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 278 Aôut-Hiver, 1884).

594
Au Petit St-Thomas: Catalogue des Ameublements (Paris: [Au Petit St-Thomas], [1888]) from the
collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 278 1888).

595
Maison du Petit Saint-Thomas: Catalogue des nouveautés d'hiver (Paris: [Au Petit St-Thomas],
[1889]) from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 278 Hiver “1889”).

596
Maison du Petit Saint-Thomas: Exposition annuelle des Tapis et Ameublements, Ouverture Lundi
17 Septembre (Paris: [Au Petit St-Thomas], [1906]) from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney
(CC 278 1906). After the 1889 Exposition on the Champs de Mars, for the first time the grands
magasins de nouveautés were allowed to show in the furniture or upholstery sections. See Maison du

305
therefore, Au Petit St-Thomas was a well-known purveyor of furnishings in all styles
of the past. And, through its catalogs, it sought to emphasize its growing involvement
with the realm of interior design.
Thus, in ca. 1890, Au Petit St-Thomas published a catalog exclusively
dedicated to furnishings.
597
While the title-page emphasized the two furnishing
categories in which the store excelled, namely draperies and seating furniture, with a
chair only partially represented on the right-hand side, (Fig. 4.38) the rest of the
illustrations in the catalog were each dedicated to a complete interior ensemble in a
different style. The illustration employed in the cover design thus seemed to suggest
that once the curtain bearing the name of the store was pulled away, one entered a
secret world of marvels defined by artistic furniture. Indeed, after spending a couple
of pages on instructing readers how to take the measurements of the various drapery
or decorative ensembles desired for beds, windows, and doors, the catalog displayed
an array of illustrations of interior designs, each more illusionistically rendered than
the other. Tempted as we are to consider these illustrations as two-dimensional
reconstructions of the complete installations inhabiting the gallery space of the store,
they very likely were idealized representations of interiors that could be achieved
with the help of furniture pieces available at Au Petit St-Thomas rather than exact

Petit St Thomas: Album de l'Ameublement (Paris: [Au Petit St-Thomas], [1890]) from the collection of
the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 278 [1890] A).

597
Maison du Petit St Thomas: Album de l'Ameublement (Paris: [Au Petit St-Thomas], [1890]) from
the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 278 [1890] A).

306
models of interior sets already produced and ready to be installed within clients’
homes.
Indeed, department stores such as Au Petit St-Thomas found that the best way
to sell furniture was through pictures of interiors. The Henri II Dining-Room, in
Polished Walnut, complete with a wooden floor, wall paneling, fireplace and wood
ceiling, is a good example. (Fig. 4.39) While department stores such as Au Petit St-
Thomas could provide the individual furniture items for such a room, including the
sideboard on the left, at 395 francs with plain glass doors and 430 francs with stained-
glass windows, the table, the chairs, and the cutting rack, as well as the various
draperies, wallpaper, carpets, paintings, pottery, and lamps that adorned it, they did
not contribute the interior architectural fittings like the ceiling, the fireplace, or the
floor. But their presence within a room being absolutely necessary, the artist-
illustrator responsible for the store’s catalog made sure to give them as much
attention as to the rest of furnishings in the image. Indeed, in another plate from the
same publication, the interior architectural fixtures play an even more important role
in the architectural ensemble than the individual furniture items do. The Oriental
Smoking-Room proposed by Au Petit St-Thomas included a monumental fireplace, a
magnificent tent-like ceiling, a moucharaby (a projecting window of latticework
typical in Islamic architecture), and a small nook for the display of the hookah on the
wall. (Fig. 4.40) Part and parcel of the room described yet not the responsibility of the
department store, these architectural elements bore no prices on the catalog’s pages.
Rather, the publication provided only the prices for the sofa with cushions and the

307
round upholstered bench occupying the lower right-hand side of the picture plane.
The amount of attention spent on the representation of the entire architectural
ensemble suggests nevertheless that the sole representation of items commercialized
by Au Petit St-Thomas was not what the department store was after. Rather, it was
the suggestion of a complete interior to which the store could contribute various
pieces that the catalog attempted to create. It was the representation of an
aesthetically-designed themed room, usually in a historic or exotic style that would
boost the store’s sales, along with the artistic representation of that imaginary interior.
One can, indeed, see how the artist spent as much time trying to capture the way light,
filtered through the wooden latticework and glass ceiling, fell on the various walls
and furniture pieces in the room as attempting to render the furnishings
commercialized by the store. Moreover, the seemingly-inadvertent presence of the
curtain falling down on the scene represented from some fixture hidden to the
viewer’s eyes represents yet another attempt from the part of the artist-illustrator to
render a theatrical “interior dreamscape” through the medium of a commercial
catalog.
598
Because people were used to consuming images in frames, with painting
having been categorized as the quintessential art of the nineteenth century, the best
way to sell furniture was as an interior painting.
599
The catalogs thus veiled the

598
The origin of the term “interior dreamscape” has been discussed in Chapter 3, in relation to the
imaginary interior designs exhibited by various artists at Salons, universal, and decorative arts
exhibitions at the time.

599
Havard, Histoire et philosophie des styles, p. 692. Also see Chapter 2.

308
furniture on sale in an artistic aura that softened the blow that their images were just
ads.
Through its catalogs, therefore, Au Petit St-Thomas attempted to carve for
itself a place in the lucrative business of interior decoration and design at the same
time as it was contributing illusionistic imaginary interiors for a public interested in
just such an art form. While none of the illustrations in its ca. 1890 catalog were
signed by a specific artist, the catalog itself was printed by the foremost publishing
house of collections of interior decoration designs at the time: namely, that of Charles
Claesen of Liège, Belgium, with offices in Paris, Bruxelles, and Berlin.
600
Claesen
had been the one to put out the artistic production of such upholsterers, architects, and
decorators at the time as Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, G. Félix Lenoir, Georges
Rémon, and Jules Verdellet, among others. By appealing to a publishing house such
as Claesen’s to print its furniture catalog, Au Petit St-Thomas attempted to partake in
the field of interior decoration and design at the time as well as to make sure its name
was associated with the most important names in the field and their artistic
production. Upon closing the catalog, one finally got a full view of the room merely
hinted at behind the curtain of the title-page, with the chair originally hidden behind
the curtain prominently displayed in the center of the picture-plane, and the same
floral-patterned curtain seen from the other side. (Fig. 4.41) The store had proved its

600
Maison du Petit St Thomas: Album de l'Ameublement (Paris: [Au Petit St-Thomas], [1890]) from
the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 278 [1890] A). For more information on Claesen’s
publishing house, see Chapter 3 of this dissertation.

309
capabilities in the realm of interior design, and it could now reveal the name of its
helper: the Imprimerie Charles Claesen.
By the end of the century, A la Place Clichy could also boast of the extension
of its departments of furniture and upholstery.
601
On its floors, one could find a series
of complete installations for dining-rooms, bedrooms, and drawing-rooms done in the
taste of the day, which, according to the store’s catalog, were “the living models
continuously renewed of the current decorative arts,” each month updated according
to the fashion of the day.
602
At the beginning of the twentieth century, the store bore
the self-designated name of “the first house in the world for French and Oriental
carpets and furniture-work,” and dedicated an entirely new building to its interior
decorating merchandize, doubling its original gallery-space.
603

While seemingly not involved in the production of the various furniture pieces
it commercialized, A la Place Clichy also sought to emphasize its investment in the
world of art and interior design through the various catalogs it published. Thus, in or
around 1898, the store sponsored the publication of a catalog that presented it as a
forerunner not only in the design of private interiors but also in their two-dimensional
representation on paper. Designed by the artist J. Hugard and reproduced as

601
A la Place Clichy: Ameublements et meubles en bois, Lundi 4 Avril, Ouverture des nouveaux salons
de Tapisserie (Paris: [A la Place Clichy], [1898]) from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC
284 Avril 1898).

602
Ibid. and A la Place Clichy: Exposition de Tapisserie et Meubles en Bois (Paris: [A la Place
Clichy], [1901]) from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 284 1901).

603
Grands Magasins de la Place Clichy – Paris, La première Maison du monde pour les Tapis
Français et Orientaux et pour les Travaux d'Ameublement: Lundi 22 Septembre et Jours suivants
grande mise en vente de Tapis Français et Orientaux, Ameublement, Tapisserie, etc. (Paris: [A la Place
Clichy], [1902]) from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC 284 [1902]).

310
photogravures by V. Michel, the illustrations of complete interior installations that the
catalog proposed were presented as representations of everyday scenes from the
private lives of female Parisians.
604
For example, in addition to the various furniture
pieces, upholstered beds, door and window draperies available in the store, Hugard’s
images included the female figures that populated the interior spaces these
furnishings embellished. Looking out of the bedroom window, arranging the
tableware in the dining-room, or lounging carelessly in the drawing-room, Hugard’s
characters provided a substitute for the female clients who might have been interested
in acquiring furnishings from the store. (Fig. 4.42) Buyers could identify with the
women portrayed and even aspire to the latter’s social standing, a desire which could
become true, the catalog suggested, with the mere purchase of those items displayed
in its fictive interiors.
Art and commerce were intertwined in Parisian department stores of the last
quarter of the nineteenth century. The “cathedrals of consumption” that were the
department stores used the world of art to promote their wares through exhibitions,
catalogs, and artistic collaborations well before the beginning of the twentieth
century. They also directly participated in the world of art by mounting complete
interior installations within their clients’ homes, an activity originally reserved
primarily for architects and upholsterers. Their catalogs found their inspiration in the
“interior dreamscapes” exhibited at Salons and within artistic books by such

604
A la Place Clichy: Ameublements et meubles en bois, Lundi 4 Avril, Ouverture des nouveaux salons
de Tapisserie (Paris: [A la Place Clichy], [1898]) from the collection of the Bibliothèque Forney (CC
284 Avril 1898).

311
renowned decorative artists as G. Félix Lenoir, while also inspiring the production of
such forms of “high art” as paintings themselves. In turn, artists sought the gallery
spaces of such department stores to display their artworks and attract customers, as
well as to potentially gain commissions from the stores themselves. Artists working
within the field of interior design might also have found the department stores’
catalogs to be a desirable medium through which to realize their artistic potential. By
contributing interior decoration designs to these catalogs, they not only created
display scenarios for the merchandise available in the stores, but also helped clients
imagine how their interiors could look. They advertised the interior as a painting and
sold furniture by rendering illusionistic space in two-dimensional form. Finally, by
maintaining independent design departments, department stores made possible the
realization of award-winning decorative schemes imagined by such artists as Alfred
Guinard within every middle or upper-middle class home. Working on commission,
like architects, upholsterers, and cabinet-makers at the time, department stores thus
also became painters in three dimensions that offered their decorating services to a
wide population-base in nineteenth-century France.

312

Fig. 4.1: Ch. Fichot, “Grands Magasins du Bon Marché – La Galerie des
tableaux,” L’Illustration (6 March 1875)
Fig. 4.2: “Grands Magasins du Louvre,” Le Monde illustré (1877)

313

Fig. 4.3: Louis Abel-Truchet, “Croquis,” A la Place Clichy: Les Tapis, les
tentures, les sieges ayant servi à la decoration du Salon des Artistes Français
seront soldés avec des rabais énormes, Lundi 6 juillet ([Paris]: [A la Place
Clichy], [1903])
Fig. 4.4: Louis Abel-Truchet, “Croquis,” A la Place Clichy: Les Tapis, les
tentures, les sieges ayant servi à la decoration du Salon des Artistes Français
seront soldés avec des rabais énormes, Lundi 6 juillet ([Paris]: [A la Place
Clichy], [1903])

314

Fig. 4.5: Journal du Tapis Rouge: Echo des nouveautés Parisiennes
(1-10 Octobre 1886)
Fig. 4.6: Journal du Tapis Rouge: Echo des nouveautés Parisiennes
(1-10 Dec. 1888)

315

Fig. 4.7: Journal du Tapis Rouge: Echo des nouveautés Parisiennes (1-
10 Dec. 1888)

316

Fig. 4.8: Jules Carot, Catalogue Cover, Au Bon Marché Nouveautés: Album de
l'ameublement. Maison Aristide Boucicaut (Paris: [Au Bon Marché], [1880])

317

Fig. 4.9: P.P., “Époque Louis XVI: Spécimen de lit grand modèle en noyer
sculpté…,” Au Bon Marché Nouveautés: Album de l'ameublement. Maison
Aristide Boucicaut (Paris: [Au Bon Marché], [1880])
Fig. 4.10: P.P., “Chambre à coucher Louis XVI,” Au Bon Marché Nouveautés:
Album de l'ameublement. Maison Aristide Boucicaut (Paris: [Au Bon Marché],
[1880])

318

Fig. 4.11: “Tapisserie et ameublements des Magasins du Bon Marché,” Au Bon
Marché Nouveautés: Album de l'ameublement. Maison Aristide Boucicaut (Paris:
[Au Bon Marché], [1880])
Fig. 4.12: Jules Carot, “No. 119: Cabinet de travail,” Au Bon Marché Nouveautés:
Album de l'ameublement. Maison Aristide Boucicaut (Paris: [Au Bon Marché],
[1880])

319

Fig. 4.13: E. Mathiot, “Cabinet de travail Louis XIII,” Au Bon Marché, Maison
Artistide Boucicaut: Nouveautés, Album de l'Ameublement (Paris: [Au Bon
Marché], [1885])
Fig. 4.14: E. M., “No. 96: Fauteuil Renaissance en blanc, 145 fr.,” Au Bon
Marché, Maison Artistide Boucicaut: Nouveautés, Album de l'Ameublement
(Paris: [Au Bon Marché], [1885])

320

Fig. 4.15: Emile de Ruaz, Catalogue Cover, Au Bon Marché Nouveautés, Maison
Aristide Boucicaut: Album de l'Ameublement. Tapisserie, sièges & décors ([Paris]:
[Au Bon Marché], [1899])

321

Fig. 4.16: Emile de Ruaz, “No. 5162: Chambre à coucher Louis XV,” Au Bon
Marché Nouveautés, Maison Aristide Boucicaut: Album de l'Ameublement.
Tapisserie, sièges & décors ([Paris]: [Au Bon Marché], [1899])

322

Fig. 4.17: Emile de Ruaz, “Intérieur de chambre à coucher, style Louis XV
galbé,” Au Bon Marché, Maison Aristide Boucicaut: Lundi 19 Septembre et
jours suivants, Exposition spéciale de Tapis, Ameublements ([Paris]: [Au Bon
Marché], [1898])
Fig. 4.18: E. Mathiot, “Chambre à coucher moderne,” Au Bon Marché, Maison
Artistide Boucicaut: Nouveautés, Album de l'Ameublement (Paris: [Au Bon
Marché], [1885])

323

Fig. 4.20: G. Félix Lenoir, “Lit de repos,” from Décors de tous styles:
Décors de fenêtres et de lits, ensembles d'intérieurs et dispositions
diverses (Paris: Chez l’auteur, 1879)
Fig. 4.19: Victor-Léon Quétin, “Fifteenth-Century Gothic Bedroom,” from Le
Magasin de meubles no. 25 (s.d.)

324

Fig. 4.21: T.M., “No. 5190: Décor de baie (séparant deux salons)” and
M.T., “No. 5191: Intérieur de salon Louis XV,” Au Bon Marché
Nouveautés, Maison Aristide Boucicaut: Album de l'Ameublement.
Tapisserie, sièges & décors ([Paris]: [Au Bon Marché], [1899])

325

Fig. 4.22: G. Félix Lenoir, Plate no. 41, from Décors de tous styles: Décors
de fenêtres et de lits, ensembles d'intérieurs et dispositions diverses (Paris:
Chez l’auteur, 1879)
Fig. 4.23: G. Félix Lenoir, “Baie sue un petit salon,” from Décors de tous styles:
Décors de fenêtres et de lits, ensembles d'intérieurs et dispositions diverses (Paris:
Chez l’auteur, 1879)

326

Fig. 4.24: “No. 5194: Décor de baie, fantaisie, séparant deux salons,
Intérieur de style Louis XVI,” Au Bon Marché Nouveautés, Maison
Aristide Boucicaut: Album de l'Ameublement. Tapisserie, sièges &
décors ([Paris]: [Au Bon Marché], [1899])

327

Fig. 4.25: Catalogue Cover, Grands Magasins du Louvre: Exposition spéciale
de tapis, carpettes, rideaux, et étoffes pour ameublements, Lundi prochain, 17
Sept (Paris: [Grands Magasins du Louvre], [1888])

Fig. 4.26: Catalogue Cover, Grands Magasins du Louvre: Literie, Tapis,
Ameublement, Carpettes, Exposition Lundi 17 Septembre 1899 (Paris: [Grands
Magasins du Louvre], 1899)

328

Fig. 4.27: Catalogue Cover, Au Bon Marché, Maison Aristide Boucicaut:Lundi
19 Septembre et jours suivants – Exposition spéciale de tapis, ameublements
(Paris: [Au Bon Marché], [1898])
Fig. 4.28: Anonymous, “Garniture de croisée Bonne Grâce” in Grands
magasins du Printemps, Album illustré des ameublements (Paris: Jules
Jaluzot, 1881)

329

Fig. 4.29: Victor-Léon Quétin, “Fenêtre Henri II, à draperies,” from Le
Magasin de meubles no. 25 (Paris: V.L. Quétin, s.d.)

330

Fig. 4.30: G. Félix Lenoir, “Louis XIII Drapery” in Designs for
Windows and Beds (1879)

331

Fig. 4.31: Edvard Munch, Kiss by the Window, oil on canvas, 1892
Fig. 4.32: Gustave Caillebotte, Interior, Woman at a Window, oil on canvas, 1880

332

Fig. 4.33: Victor Rose, “No. 804-806: Meubles de Salon Coeur capitonné
(intérieur crn mélange),” Album de l'Ameublement des Grands Magasins de
Nouveautés du Tapis Rouge (Paris: [Au Tapis Rouge], [ca.1883])

333

Fig. 4.34: Alfred Guinard, “Fenêtre Henri II (Louvre),” from L’Ameublement
artistique: Carton du tapissier du XI au XIX siècle (Paris: l’auteur, 1881)

334

Fig. 4.35: “No. 18: Rideaux drap uni avec bandes…,” Album de
l'Ameublement des Grands Magasins de Nouveautés du Tapis Rouge
(Paris: [Au Tapis Rouge], [ca.1883])

335

Fig. 4.36: Alfred Guinard, “Fenêtre à lambrequin drapé
(application), Style Louis XIV” from L’Ameublement artistique:
Carton du tapissier du XI au XIX siècle (Paris: l’auteur, 1881)

336

Fig. 4.37: Victor Rose, “No. 10: Riche garniture de fenêtre…,” Album
de l'Ameublement des Grands Magasins de Nouveautés du Tapis
Rouge (Paris: [Au Tapis Rouge], [ca.1883])

337

Fig. 4.38: Catalogue Cover, Maison du Petit St Thomas: Album de
l'Ameublement (Paris: [Au Petit St-Thomas], [1890])
Fig. 4.39: “Salle à manger Henri II, en noyer ciré,” Maison du Petit St Thomas:
Album de l'Ameublement (Paris: [Au Petit St-Thomas], [1890])

338

Fig. 4.40: “Fumoir oriental: Tapisserie de la Maison du petit Saint-Thomas,
Paris,” Maison du Petit St Thomas: Album de l'Ameublement (Paris: [Au
Petit St-Thomas], [1890])

339

Fig. 4.41: “Salle à manger Henri II,” Back Cover (Paris: [Au Petit St-
Thomas], [1890])
Fig. 4.42: J. Hugard, “Décor de lit fantaisie, rideaux et draperies …,” A la Place
Clichy: Ameublements et meubles en bois, Lundi 4 Avril, Ouverture des
nouveaux salons de Tapisserie (Paris: [A la Place Clichy], [1898])

340
Chapter 5:
Le Juste Milieu:
Alexandre Sandier, Theming, and the Development of Art Nouveau in French
Interiors of the Nineteenth Century

The architect and decorator Alexandre Sandier (1843-1914) published in 1886 in the
Revue illustrée an interior decorating project for a modern library as part of a series of
articles on the arrangement of the modern home. Finding his inspiration in the world
of the past, more specifically of the French eighteenth century, where one’s library
served as one’s “thinking den” (pensoir) at the same time as a repository for
ingenious and sentimental ornaments, engravings, and statuettes that both rested and
distracted one’s mind, Sandier urged his readers to imagine a decorative ensemble
both old and new, both defined by the decorative tendencies of the age of the
Enlightenment and firmly grounded in the nineteenth-century present.
605
He proposed
a decorative scheme that replaced François Boucher’s and Jean-Honoré Fragonard’s
painted decorations of “puffy” children at play with “modern children” engaged in
such artistic and intellectual pursuits as playing music or chess, reading, or writing.
606

Reclining in her chair by the fire, a book or magazine in her hand, the host performed
similar activities while enjoying the restful atmosphere of the library. (Fig. 5.1)
Replacing the sinuous curves of Rococo arabesques in the decoration of the fireplace
and the various door and window draperies throughout the room were such inventive

605
Alexandre Sandier, “La Maison moderne V [sic]: La bibliothèque,” Revue illustrée 2, no. 20 (June-
December 1886), p. 689.

606
Alexandre Sandier, “La Maison moderne IX: La bibliothèque (fin),” Revue illustrée 2, no. 22 (June-
December 1886), p. 749.

341
ornamental patterns as crossed pens and envelopes around the hearth and chess
boards along with their most easily-recognizable pieces on the curtains. Sandier
completed his decorative scheme with pottery over the fireplace and glassware within
ornamental niches in the walls, all symbols of the “thousand” art objects that such an
interior would have allowed. He thus accomplished his goal of removing
contemporary French décor from the grip of the past while following a decorating
principle inspired from that very past.
This chapter examines the work of Alexandre Sandier within the context of
French interior decorating advice manuals and pattern books published in the last
quarter of the nineteenth century. The early years of the French Third Republic
(1870-1940) witnessed an unprecedented interest in the “proper” decoration of private
interiors.
607
Pattern books, trade journals, exhibition guides, illustrated magazines,
collectors’ manuals, and ladies’ home improvement publications rushed to give
advice. Following the innovations in interior décor popularized through such media
and encouraged by a new understanding of the petit salon’s and the boudoir’s
appropriate embellishment, Sandier replaced the traditional forms and themes of
history with new, refreshing, and never-before-seen interior design combinations that
occupied an intermediate position between eclectic and themed interior décor. He
pushed towards a “juste milieu” (middle road) in interior decoration, as the literary
critic Henri de Noussanne would label the decorative aesthetic that was meant to

607
Muthesius, The Poetic Home, p. 48.

342
replace both historic and “modern” styles.
608
In this way, Sandier not only established
the status of the interior decorator as a designer of complete interiors but he also
made a style commonly known today as Art Nouveau possible.
The private interiors of the second half of the nineteenth century in most of
the Western world have traditionally been seen either as failed attempts to recreate
the atmosphere of the past or the exotic or as assemblages of unrelated objects of
radically different aesthetic values and backgrounds, amalgamated in one setting
without rhyme or reason – all instances of a bricabracomania thought to be
rampaging at the time. Yet a study of the ideal private interior, as it was represented
in French manuals, pattern books, and other visual sources at the time, suggests that a
very strict set of guidelines governed the interior decorating practices of upper and
middle-class Parisians. Rather than stylistically eclectic, as they might appear to an
untrained eye, interiors aimed at being carefully orchestrated decorative ensembles
guided by specific rules and regulations, as we have already seen in Chapter 1. In this
chapter, I will show how non-historic and non-exotic decorative ensembles evolved
out of historic décor, all the while attempting to reach new thematic grounds. More
specifically, this chapter argues that the petit salon and the boudoir, two interior
spaces that allowed the play of the imagination more than others, paved the way for
original decorative schemes which, under the influence of decorators such as Sandier,
made Art Nouveau, a style considered a departure from the typical decoration of the
nineteenth century, possible. When seen in this light, Art Nouveau, which scholars

608
De Noussanne, Le Goût dans l'ameublement, pp. 6-7.

343
have previously considered as the one main harmonious decorative style that has
made the development of interior design as a profession possible, becomes just one
decorative theme among all others, and, as such, only marginally responsible for the
development of an aesthetic of the complete interior devised by one main
coordinator-designer.
When the critic and art historian Charles Blanc asserted in 1882 that nothing
was more proper in a woman’s boudoir, than a fancy, irregular and unexpected décor,
he seemed to defy all rules and exigencies of French interior design in the age of
historicism.
609
Based on a series of thematic displays, which ran from Moorish
billiard rooms and Gothic hallways to Renaissance dining-rooms, Egyptian
bathrooms, Assyrian play-rooms or Louis XV bedrooms, French bourgeois interiors
in the second half of the nineteenth century displayed spaces as sets designed to
displace the contemporary world with the pleasures of someplace else.
610
Such spaces

609
Blanc, Grammaire des arts décoratifs, p. 140. Charles Blanc (1813-1882), directeur de beaux-arts
during both the Second and the Third Republic, was an art historian, critic, professor of architectural
history, engraver, as well as founder of the Gazette des beaux-arts (1859-2002). For more information
on Charles Blanc, see Claire Barbillon, “Blanc, Charles,” in Philippe Sénéchal and Claire Barbillon,
eds., Dictionnaire critique des historiens de l’art actifs en France de la Révolution à la Première
Guerre Mondiale, Paris, INHA, http://www.inha.fr/spip.php?article2201 (visited April 1, 2011).

610
The list comes from a monthly interior decoration periodical, La Décoration intérieure, published
by the architect and decorator (architecte-décorateur) Adrien Simoneton, active at 1, rue de
Dunkerque in Paris, between October 1893 and September 1895. The administrative offices of the
journal were located at 59, rue Richelieu, Paris. See Adrien Simoneton, La Décoration intérieure no.
20 (May 1895). If an interest in the Renaissance and the Medieval past can be traced back to the years
following the Revolution of 1789 and the formation of such museums as Alexandre Lenoir’s Musée
des monuments français in 1795 and Alexandre du Sommerard’s Musée de Cluny in the 1830s, the
interest in Egyptian artifacts dates to Napoléon Bonaparte’s campaigns in Egypt. The vogue for Louis
XV and the Assyrian styles came later. The former was brought to the fore by Empress Eugénie’s
infatuation with the fashion of the eighteenth century during the Second Empire, while the latter
originated no sooner than 1847, with the first display of Assyrian artifacts at the Louvre. The Moorish
style seems to have enjoyed wide popular appeal at least since Owen Jones’ publication of Plans,
Elevations, Sections, and Details of the Alhambra (London: the author, 1836-1845) and especially

344
obeyed one major rule. Summarized succinctly by the Comtesse de Bassanville, this
imperative read: “Choose an epoch and stay truthful to it.”
611
Anachronisms were to
be avoided and a decorative scheme’s success was measured by its ability to transport
the visitor to a different place or time upon the mere passage from one room to the
next. Yet this collection of historic and exotic themes left room for two exceptions to
the rule: the petit salon and the boudoir – where critics recommended a mixture of
objects from different places and in different styles, but arranged in an aesthetically
unified setting.
612
Seemingly unruly, these interiors followed nevertheless regulations
of their own, which made them part and parcel of their time while also transforming
them into hotbeds of aesthetic innovation that would ultimately lead to new
decorative lines.

since his architectural recreation of the Alhambra Court at the 1851 Crystal Palace Exhibition. For
more information about the Musée des monuments français and the Musée de Cluny see Bann, The
Clothing of Clio and Andrew McClellan, Inventing the Louvre: Art, Politics, and the Origins of the
Modern Museum in Eighteenth-Century Paris (Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University
Press, 1994). On the effects of Napoléon’s campaign in Egypt on interior decoration see Gere,
Nineteenth-Century Decoration. For more information on Eugénie’s relation to the eighteenth century,
see Christophe Pincemaille, “Essai sur les fêtes officielles à Versailles sous le Second Empire,” in
Versalia 3 (2000), pp. 118-127, and for a history of the eighteenth-century revival in France see
Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle France. For a history of the discovery of Assyria by the
French, refer to Bohrer, Orientalism and Visual Culture. For the popularization of the Moorish style
during to the Great Exhibition see Gere, Nineteenth-Century Decoration, p. 31.

611
De Bassanville, L’Art de bien tenir une maison, p. 83.

612
The petit salon (usually translated in English as “the parlor”) was of two types. When restricted to
the use of family members and their most intimate friends, it was called a petit salon de famille (family
parlor). When it was situated next to the grand salon (usually translated in English as the drawing-
room) and was, like the grand salon, destined to the official reception of guests, it was called a petit
salon de réception (reception parlor). See Deville, Dictionnaire du tapissier, p. 237. The boudoir was
defined as a woman’s private or “intimate” parlor (petit salon intime). See Nacla, Le Boudoir, p. 214.
Deville also calls it “le petit salon spécial à la jeune femme.” See Deville, Dictionnaire du tapissier, p.
244.

345
One of few rooms in the nineteenth-century home that was of private or more
restricted use, the petit salon, the room without a cohesive style, seems like a
contradiction in terms, an eyesore for all those who, at the time, wrote about the
proper decoration of interiors.
613
Yet nothing could be further from truth. “No style”
did not mean exactly no style at all. Rather, “no style” stood for “modern style” or
“fantasy style” (style moderne or style fantaisie), neither of which, despite their
names, had anything to do with modern furniture and décor as we have come to know
them today as part of either Art Nouveau or the utilitarian, machine-like aesthetic of
Le Corbusier (1887-1965).
614
The petit salon thus became a space for artistic
innovation. Taste educators and authors of fashionable ladies’ manuals saw it as such;
and rather than a call for disorder, they promoted the petit salon as establishing a new
order.
615
Eclectic par excellence, yet part of a well-established and widely accepted
decorative plan that followed very precise rules and regulations, the petit salon and its

613
Trade manuals at the time referred to both the petit salon and the boudoir as rooms without “a
style” – which, at the time, meant without a traditional historic style, be that of a Renaissance,
Medieval, exotic or eighteenth-century inspiration. See Jules Verdellet, L'Art pratique du tapissier,
fourth edition, vol. 4 (Paris: Charles Claesen, 1882), pp. 21-22.

614
Secondary literature to this day refers to Art Nouveau as “le style moderne” (the “modern style”).
See Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle France, pp. 4-5. The modern, functionalist aesthetic of
Le Corbusier, born Charles-Edouard Jeanneret, was characterized by “a total embrace of industrial
production.” See Troy, Modernism and the Decorative Arts, p. 196.

615
Many men and women wrote about the proper decoration of interiors in the second half of
nineteenth-century France. Among the most important publications were: Blanc, Grammaire des arts
décoratifs, Blondel, Grammaire de la curiosité, Henry Havard, L’Art dans la maison (1883), de
Bassanville, L’Art de bien tenir une maison, Nacla, Le Boudoir, and Staffe, La Maîtresse de maison.

346
décor were part and parcel of any fashionable interior at the time, constituting just
another themed interior among others.
616

Whether a room was decorated in a Roman, Medieval or Renaissance style, a
Louis XIV, Louis XV, Louis XVI, Egyptian, Assyrian or Moorish style, it had to
obey the main lines characteristic of the one theme chosen. Explained in less prosaic
terms by Charles Blanc, the uniformity of furniture pieces within a room was a
feature of democracy and equality among the different (male) members of society.
Public meeting rooms were especially suited to a consistency in décor, since the latter
welcomed the spirit of equality which had prevailed since the fall of absolute
monarchy in 1789.
617
Moreover, uniformity in furniture and decoration was a direct

616
Although no nineteenth-century author used the word “theme” to describe the interior decoration of
interior spaces at the time, it seems to me that this is an appropriate term to use in order to refer to the
various decorating styles prevalent in French homes in the second half of the nineteenth century,
especially when not all rooms were intended to have a historic or exotic “character.” Art Historian
Stefan Muthesius explains that the term “character” was foregrounded in eighteenth-century
architectural discourse to evoke a theme that “spoke of something beyond the domestic realm.”
However, “in its desire for a convincing systematization of forms and their meaning,” the nineteenth
century replaced “character” with “style.” See Muthesius The Poetic Home, p. 201. In France, for
example, the so-called “Louis” styles were prominent. Named after the French monarchs of the Old
Regime (Louis XIII, Louis XIV, Louis XV, Louis XVI), the Louis-styles roughly recreated the interior
décors characteristic of these kings’ reigns. Auslander, Taste and Power, p. 35, points out how, despite
the fact that these styles were named after specific French kings, the dates of the latter’s reigns and the
dates of the styles named after them were not completely concurrent. Kristin Hoganson uses the
expression “theme rooms” extensively in her work on nineteenth-century American homes. The rooms
that she discusses, however, are European or exotic in origin; they do not display themes that don’t
belong to a specific national, imperial, and cosmopolitan context. See Hoganson, “Cosmopolitan
Domesticity,” pp. 55-83. Historian Rosalind Williams also recognizes the existence of themed
environments, but she identifies these in public spaces of commercial displays. For her, these spaces
only make sense in the retail arena, where fanciful décor was used to sell: “seeking a pleasurable
escape from the workaday world,” nineteenth-century citizens found it “in a deceptive dream world
which is no dream at all but a sales pitch in disguise.” See Williams, Dream Worlds, p. 65. In the
private arena, she identifies a desire from the part of the bourgeoisie to imitate the courtly stylistic
regimes of the past, so their taste “faithfully reflected the aristocratic model.” This hardly ever left
room for innovation. See Williams, Dream Worlds, pp. 33-34.

617
Blanc, Grammaire des arts décoratifs, p. 152. Consistency of décor in social spaces destined for
reception originated at least in the eighteenth century, where it also was correlated with formality. As

347
response to uniformity in clothing. As Blanc asserted, “whoever was received in
black outfit within the rooms of a minister could expect ... at least the minimum
amount of politeness which assured that he sat on a chair identical to all others.”
618

The same directives that he applied to public spaces, the author extended to the
private interior, especially to those rooms that welcomed guests on a regular basis,
including the vestibule, the salon, and the dining-room.
619
Here, too, a consistent
system of furnishing and décor had to be maintained to ensure that all guests were
treated on equal terms.
In fact, other than the petit salon, very few designed interiors, including the
artist’s studio, the collector’s cabinet and the woman’s boudoir, deviated from this
rule of uniformity in decoration.
620
Special spaces which invited the play of the

art historian Mimi Hellman argues, “a space dedicated to highly structured, hierarchical interactions,
such as a reception room (chambre du dais), state bedchamber (chambre de parade), or large salon,
was much more likely to contain a costly and extensive meuble than a private bedchamber or study.”
Here, Hellmann defines meuble as “an ensemble of various objects covered in the same fabric.” See
Mimi Hellmann, “The Joy of Sets: The Uses of Seriality in the French Interior,” in Goodman and
Norberg, eds., Furnishing the Eighteenth Century, pp. 132 and 145.

618
Ibid., p. 152.

619
Ibid., p. 153.

620
Scholars of interior decorating have seen the so-called “studio style” and the “boudoir style” as
precursors to the Aesthetic movement in Britain. Charlotte Gere notes how, in Britain, “classical
symmetry and order gave way early in the century to an encroaching ‘boudoir’ style... in all but the
sacrosanct male preserves of library and smoking room... .” The latter, to her, was the result of a
feminine influence in decorating the house, which translated into the “artless, seemingly uncontrived
disposition of the frequently proliferating ornaments and accessories,” which stopped right before
becoming “untidy.” See Gere, Nineteenth-Century Decoration, pp. 52-53. In addition, starting with the
1860s, she identifies the development of what she calls “the studio style” across the Western world.
Applied to both an artist’s workshop and a collector’s interior, since “a studio arranged by an artist
with aesthete leanings and the installation of his possessions by the diligent art collector produce a
similar result,” Gere’s “studio style” was a “pastiche” of objects in various styles and from different
cultures. See Gere, Nineteenth-Century Decoration, pp. 17-18. According to her, the “boudoir style”
and the “studio style” were the precursors to the “artistic style” in Britain, since both involved the

348
imagination, favoritism and non-equality were here of no concern. The focus in these
rooms was instead on the objects displayed therein (the collection, in a cabinet), the
activities performed (painting or sculpting, in an artist’s studio) or the persons
inhabiting them (the mistress of the house, in the petit salon and especially the
boudoir). “The symmetrical arrangement of furniture,” Blanc explained, “as much as
it conveys a sense of calm and dignity in the reception rooms, it would appear cold
and out of place in a cabinet dedicated to study, retreat or conversation, a painter’s or
a sculptor’s workshop, a lady’s boudoir.”
621
Not only was an imaginative selection
and arrangement of objects permitted in these spaces but it was also recommended
here as a rule, above and beyond anything else.
622

In direct response to Blanc’s theories of symmetry and assymmetry in a
room’s decoration, the art historian, critic, and collaborator at the Gazette des beaux-
arts Spire Blondel also proclaimed himself in favor of an association of objects as
varied as possible, especially in an artist’s interior: “An artist who recollects himself
before starting to work, or who is already engaged in bringing the dreams of his
imagination to life, must be surrounded by numerous and varied objects ... which
stimulate his mind by the unexpectedness of their associations and the strangeness of

“apparently effortless assemblage of furniture, fabrics, hangings, pictures, curiosities and objets d’art,”
which she identifies as the defining characteristics of the British “artistic style.”

621
Ibid., p. 138.

622
In a study published soon after Charles Blanc’s Grammaire des arts décoratifs, Émile Cardon
expressed a similar idea: “Within an official salon [salon officiel de réception] dedicated to the
receiving of guests, uniform furnishings are mandatory in a sense; it is the opposite in a private salon
[salon intime], as especially suited to all middle-range or bourgeois homes; here, fantasy is not only
permitted, it is the rule.” See Cardon, L’Art au foyer domestique, p. 85.

349
their contrasts.”
623
Blanc himself had found an ancient cupboard filled with old books
to be the best company for “strangely-colored and bizarrely-silhouetted cups and
flowery plants;” and he thought that an oriental piece of cloth negligently thrown
upon a gothic chair helped bring out the latter’s shape.
624
Interesting things induced
interesting ideas, decorating advisors maintained, and an interior composed of objects
found in a state of associative eclecticism, or what Blanc called “a beautiful
disorder,” allowed one’s mind to fly away and dream of new combinations and things
unseen.
625

In a collector’s interior, imagination and “disorder” also went hand-in-hand.
Counseling novices about the secrets of collecting and properly arranging one’s
private home once original objects to compose a historically-accurate interior were
too expensive to buy or no longer available, the art historian and collector Albert
Jacquemart offered a compromise. If a suite of original objects could no longer be
acquired, one could instead create a tasteful interior arrangement with an eclectic mix
of furnishings.
626
A direct response to changes in the art market, which was
increasingly marked by the lack of original antiques, associative eclecticism as an

623
Blondel, Grammaire de la curiosité, p. 355. For more information on Blondel, see Favrel, “Blondel,
Spire.”

624
See Blanc, Grammaire des arts décoratifs, p. 139.

625
Ibid., p. 139.

626
See Jacquemart, Histoire du mobilier, p. 21: “Such difficulties should not discourage those [amateur
collectors] who wish to borrow from the past the objects that surround them; if history escapes them
through the rigor of its demands, they can adopt a compromise that taste allows by composing a
completely eclectic furniture ensemble.”

350
alternative to traditional historical styles became a viable decorating option for a
collector’s interior as it did for an artist’s studio or a woman’s boudoir.
But this new aesthetic of the collector late to the business was no less
constricted by clear rules of object arrangement and interior decoration. The amateur
collector’s interior was more than an accidental assemblage of valuable objects
randomly associated so as to follow “the law of eclecticism” and was thus a style in
its own right.
627
Quite the contrary, Jacquemart explained, the “strict tenets of
convenience and good taste dominate this apparent fantasy.”
628
The language of the
artist’s studio with its tasteful choice of forms, color combinations, and elegant
ensembles served as an example here as well. As Jacquemart made clear,
“advantageously displaying a ... Flemish tapestry, bringing out a lacquered cabinet, an
Indian spade or an ivory-inlaid ebony, finding the best position for weapons,
porcelains, and bronzes, properly showing a terra cotta by Clodion, an ivory by
Duquesnoy ... hanging at its true place a Persian embroidery, an Indian silk, or a
Japanese roll could not be within the easy reach of any newcomer. Anachronism
could be as shocking between two ill-assorted objects as between the scattered pieces
of a complete furniture ensemble.”
629
Although apparently random, such interiors
were architectural environments carefully constructed with an eye towards harmony,

627
Ibid., p. 20.

628
Ibid., p. 22.

629
Ibid.

351
color matching and fortunate juxtapositions, with objects aesthetically enhanced by
their proximity to others.
At first glance, the decoration of a woman’s private parlor, her boudoir, also
seems to have involved no more thought than the random mixture of objects and
fabrics. However, this was far from true. The most important requirement that such a
space had to obey, as established by interior decorating manuals at the time, was that
the space be in perfect harmony with the mistresses of the house.
630
Here, the
expression of equality through furnishings, so favored in the “public” rooms open to
the reception of guests, was banished. Madame’s private headquarters allowed the
expression of personal preferences, and the more varied the different furniture pieces
were the better. Dissymmetry was welcomed, since not all guests had to receive the
same amount of attention from the room’s owner. Through dissimilar fixtures,
especially in seating, she could bestow her favors unequally among her suitors, thus
expressing her approval or disapproval of her visitors symbolically.
631

Rather than function as a contradiction in customs or an impediment to
successful social interaction, contemporaries perceived “an agreeable disorder” in the
boudoir as an effect of art and charm. As was the case with the petit salon, in a
woman’s boudoir, “there was no need for all seats to be identical in shape,” or for a
sofa to be clad “in the same silk that also covers the armchairs.”
632
In her parlor,

630
See Nacla, Le Boudoir, p. 218.

631
Se Blanc, Grammaire des arts décoratifs, p. 140.

632
Ibid., p. 139.

352
“nothing was more proper ... than fantasy, irregularity and unpredictability.”
633
This
was the conclusion that Blanc reached in his Grammaire des arts décoratifs (1882)
and this also was the statement that Blondel chose to emphasize two years later in his
Grammaire de la curiosité (1884). Yet an unreasonable mixture of objects of varied
shapes and forms was not what the visitor would have found in any of these spaces.
The charming “disorder” that informed the choice of individual objects in a room was
not a feature of the general decorative scheme. As Blondel explained, “the appearance
of disorder is here in the detail; perfect order, however, is found in the ensemble as a
whole.”
634

Indeed, most interior decorating advisors from the second half of the
nineteenth century agreed: the petit salon and the boudoir, more common in
nineteenth-century middle-class homes than an artist’s studio or a collector’s cabinet,
could host decorative schemes that offered an exception to traditional historic styles,
yet which translated into unified architectural ensembles in their own right. Often
labeled as “fantasy style” (style fantaisie) or “modern style” (style moderne), these
decorative schemes have been treated in recent scholarship merely as eclectic
décors.
635
Yet both the style fantaisie and the style moderne had very precise

633
Blondel, Grammaire de la curiosité, p. 356, citing Blanc’s Grammaire des arts décoratifs.

634
Ibid., p. 356.

635
Art historian Stefan Muthesius acknowledges the existence of the style moderne and the style
fantaisie, arguing that the use of such terms came from a desire from the part of the trades to
demonstrate their originality. However, he does not define what these styles meant. See Muthesius,
The Poetic Home, p. 205.

353
characteristics, which would have made them easily identifiable to any nineteenth-
century Parisian as soon as he or she would have walked through the door.
The upholsterer and decorator Jules Verdellet (d. ca. 1882) was among those
who gave visual form to these requirements. In the 1870s, he thus proposed a
decorative scheme for a boudoir in what he called “a Louis XV style.”
636
(Fig. 5.2)
Adding a mixture of various chairs to the room, as was already common in a boudoir
or petit salon by that time, Verdellet reminded his readers how “in the fanciful
[fantaisiste] grouping of furniture pieces in a boudoir one could move away, without
serious inconveniences, from the strict observance of historic styles.”
637
Although
labeled “Louis XV,” Verdellet’s boudoir did not include the usual wall-panelling
associated with this style but replaced it with draperies hung throughout the room. It
also gave a prominent place to one of nineteenth-century’s seating inventions, the
puff, thus committing a blatant anachronism. The puff was a low chair without
armrests or backrest, without exposed wood, and usually round in shape, which was
invented around 1845.
638
Through words and images, he expressed the hallmark of
the style fantaisie at the time: namely, the introduction in a room in a specific historic

636
A founder of and professor at the École moderne du tapissier, Jules Verdellet also was a founding
member of the Comité du patronage des apprentis tapissiers and the author of the much-praised
Manuel géométrique du tapissier singled out at the Universal Exposition of 1855. See Jules Verdellet,
Manuel géométrique du tapissier (1864). An upholsterer-draftsman (tapissier-dessinateur), as he often
called himself, Verdellet owned an interior decorating and upholstery business in Paris at 8, rue St-
Claude in the Marais.

637
Jules Verdellet, L'Art pratique du tapissier no. 4, 4th edition (Paris, Liège, Berlin: Charles Claesen,
1882), pp. 21-22. Originally published between 1871 and 1874, L’Art pratique du tapissier promised
its readers a “comprehensive course in decoration” through interior decorating schemes that the author
himself had put in practice and studied from the point of view of taste, proportion, and style.

638
Deville, Dictionnaire du tapissier, p. 51.

354
style (Louis XV in this case) of furniture pieces, window curtains, wall treatments, or
decorative objects of different historic or geographic origins.
An article published as part of several volumes on the state of French industry
also acknowledged the existence of a style fantaisie by the 1870s. As the article
explained, the waiting room, the dining room, the smoking room or the library
permitted a Medieval or a Louis XIII decorative scheme, the drawing-room a Louis
XIV décor, and the bedroom a Louis XIII or Louis XV design. The boudoir, however,
was usually done in the Louis XVI style, “when it was not Chinese, Persian or purely
fantaisiste.”
639

A room in the style fantaisie welcomed items foreign to its main historic
theme. These objects, extraneous to its traditional decorative lines, were also called
“de fantaisie.” In 1878, the upholsterer, decorator, and art historian Jules Deville
(1825-1890), the President of the Chambre syndicale des tapissiers at the time,
defined a chair “de fantaisie” in the following way: “today this denomination can be
applied to any chair that, through its form, proportion, or fabric, falls outside of the
main style of furnishings of the room in which it is situated.”
640
Upholsterers strove to
give such seats imaginative names, Deville explained, but in the end, regardless of the
names attributed to them, they all fell under one or more of such well-known and very
general categories as Chinese, Greek, Moorish, or Gothic chairs.
641


639
Turgan, “Fabrique d'ameublements en bois massif,” p. 183.

640
Deville, Dictionnaire du tapissier, p. 33. For more information on Deville see Bonnet, “Deville,
Jules.” Deville became the President of the Chambre syndicale des tapissiers in 1874.

641
Ibid., p. 33.

355
Specialized interior decorating and trade journals such as Le Garde-meuble
illustrated armchairs in the style fantaisie, either in a Chinese or a Japanese style as
late as 1891.
642
(Fig. 5.3) A bi-monthly publication, Le Garde-meuble was founded in
1839 by Désiré Guilmard (1810-ca. 1885), a prolific publisher of designs for
furniture, upholstery, ornaments, and complete rooms.
643
By 1891, E. Maincent had
taken over the publication of the journal and had also become its main delineator.
Maincent’s designs for Chinese and Japanese armchairs in the style fantaisie
combined the ornamental features of the Chinese and Japanese styles with forms
characteristic of the West. Indeed, neither in China nor in Japan did such elevated
seats originally exist, their presence in those countries at the end of the nineteenth
century being due to Western influences.
644
The only reminiscences of actual
Chinese or Japanese furniture in Maincent’s Garde-meuble illustration came from the
design of the fabric he employed in the armchairs’ upholstery. The style fantaisie,
therefore, was used as a place-holder for the denomination of an interior architectural
environment that included objects in a style that did not fit in with the general theme
of the room, or which did not fully belong to any specific historic or exotic style.


642
See Le Garde-meuble: Collection de sièges 312, no. 1857 (1891). Initially titled Le Garde-meuble
ancien et moderne, “each installment of Le Garde-meuble contained up to nine loose plates of
lithographs--three illustrating sièges (seating furniture), three depicting meubles (case furniture, i.e.,
non-seating objects such as cabinets, chests, tables, etc.) and three picturing tentures (bed and window
hangings).” See Van Allen Schaffner, “Désiré Guilmard.”

643
Tolede, “Guilmard, Désiré.”

644
Japan became open to Western influences only after the Meiji Restoration in 1868, while China was
closed to the West and the latter’s influences up until the First Opium War of 1839-1842 and the 1842
Treaty of Nanking that opened its ports to the West.

356
When applied to the petit salon, the style fantaisie was also defined as a
mixture of styles. As the Baronne Staffe explained, the petit salon was more stylish
and more fanciful [fantaisiste] than the rest of the house since, in this room, the styles
that resembled each other could be combined.
645
Yet, as was the case with the artist’s
studio or the collector’s interior, the petit salon, too, had to obey specific rules and
regulations. In other words, there always was an underlying order to any apparent
disorder that this style might seem to have encouraged. In his Grammaire de
l’ameublement, the critic, art historian and beaux-arts inspector Henry Havard (1838-
1921) emphasized how nothing could be random when it came to decorating:
“Without, however, presenting a jumble, our petit salon will offer a graceful
assemblage of pretty furnishings from various epochs and in different styles. [...] If,
more than anywhere else, eclecticism is here the rule, … this eclecticism … does not
consist of ... randomly hoarding, in the same place, a heap of various things without
rhyme or reason.”
646
Rather, it was here that the personal and artistic taste of the
master or the mistresses of the house would best be represented.
647
If, in the petit

645
Staffe, La Maîtresse de Maison, p. 32.

646
Havard, L’Art dans la maison, pp. 316-317. For more information on Havard, see Froissart-
Pezone, “Havard, Henry.” Havard was inspecteur de beaux-arts between 1887 and 1917.

647
Ibid., p. 317. Lisa Tiersten, in her study of women and consumption under the Third Republic
interprets such eclectic combinations of things within the home as works of art. She positions the
mistresses of the house between a consumer and an artist, engaged in an aesthetic movement that
Tiersten coins “marketplace modernism.” Marketplace modernism involved creating a unified
decorative environment out of different objects purchased from the market. In this way, it can be seen
as synonymous to what nineteenth-century Parisians called the style fantaisie, or, as we shall see, the
style moderne. However, Tiersten sees marketplace modernism to dominate nineteenth-century life
above any other style, and the role of women in it as absolutely essential. According to her, this was
the outcome of the political and social distress provoked by the new woman: “The civilizing influence
of taste... was said to regulate the unrestrained individualism and dangerous desires ascribed to the

357
salon, anachronisms were encouraged, an artistic grouping of objects could at least
create a visually-inspiring and thought-provoking environment which took one’s
mind away from any inconsistencies in the historical origin of the various objects or
furniture pieces employed therein.
648

If one was in doubt about how such a successful arrangement could be
reached, furniture stores and pattern books alike offered guidance. In his collection of
drawings for bed and window hangings, the dessinateur-décorateur G. Félix Lenoir
aligned decorative arrangements in the style fantaisie with those in more traditional
historic styles, showing how as early as 1879 the style fantaisie had become another
theme or style along all other styles.
649
He proposed window curtains in what he
called a Louis XIV style, while also suggesting patterns for curtains fantaisie.
Moreover, he also proposed entire decorative ensembles that followed the style
fantaisie just as he proposed ensembles in the styles of Louis XVI or the Renaissance.
Interestingly, however, his designs in the style fantaisie were not limited to the petit
salon or the boudoir. Rather, Lenoir preferred this style for the bedroom, presenting
not one, but two such decorative possibilities on the same page. Gradually, the style
fantaisie left the private rooms and entered other, more public, rooms in the private
home.

female consumer, turning her on the one hand into a virtuous citizen, and on the other into a refined
connoisseur of goods.” As the mère de famille, the woman was to consume in the interest of the family
and the nation. See Tiersten, Marianne in the Market, p. 2.

648
Ibid., p. 317.

649
G. Félix Lenoir, Décors des fenêtres et des lits, ensembles d'intérieurs et dispositions diverses
(Dourdan, Seine-et-Oise: Ch. Juliot, 1879).

358
By the end of the century, the style fantaisie had invaded even the salon, the
most public of the rooms in a house, which also was decorated with furniture in
different styles.
650
Decorators deplored this state of affairs and explained that if a petit
salon or boudoir could easily be “de fantaisie,” the salon was still preferable to be
“de style,” by which they meant any style that was not a mixture of several styles.
651

This reaction against it shows the success that the style fantaisie had enjoyed up until
then, as well as the extent to which it had encroached upon the various rooms in the
nineteenth-century French house.
Throughout the years, the appearance and meaning of the style fantaisie
evolved. Since the first decade of the Third Republic, this style had become
associated with the so-called style moderne or “the modern style.” This was apparent
starting at least with 1878, when the Belgian publishing house of Charles Claesen
published the second in a series of volumes of interior decoration designs by the
painter, architect, decorator, and illustrator Alexandre-Eugène Prignot (1822-
1885).
652
Right next to such window-curtain designs as those for a drawing-room in

650
See H. Lacroix, Nouveau manuel complet, p. 190.

651
Ibid., p. 192.

652
Alexandre-Eugène Prignot, La Tenture moderne: Collection variée de modèles de tous styles,
portières, garnitures de fenêtres, lambrequins, garnitures de lit, etc etc, vol. 2 (Paris: Ch. Claesen, ca.
1878). Occupying a troubled position between art and industry, like so many decorative artists of his
day, Prignot was a painter, a draftsman, and an illustrator, as well as an architect, a decorator and a
designer of interiors at the same time. See Ulrich Thieme and Felix Becker, “Alexandre Eugène
Prignot,” Allgemeines Lexikon der bildenden Künstler (Leipzig: Seemann, 1978), p. 401, and
Emmanuel Bénézit, ed., “Prignot Alexandre Eugène, ˮ Dictionnaire critique et documentaire des
peintres, sculpteurs, dessinateurs & graveurs de tous les temps et de tous les pays (Paris: Gründ,
1999), p. 250. He collaborated with the furniture industry, designing furniture pieces most notably for
the British firm of Jackson and Graham in London and Fourdinois in Paris. See Gabet, “Le XIX

359
the style of Louis XIV, standing out through the metaphor of the sun-king, (Fig. 5.4)
or for a vestibule in the English Gothic style with characteristic stained-glass
windows, (Fig. 5.5) Prignot’s La Tenture moderne proposed such decorative schemes
as a window curtain “De fantaisie ou genre moderne” (“Fantasy or modern style”).
This last design combined stained-glass windows in the style of the Middle Ages with
wallpaper decorated with fleurs-de-lis, the Old Regime’s symbol of absolute
monarchical power, and with naturalistically-rendered plant-patterned drapes. (Fig.
5.6) The artist’s choice of a denomination like “Fantasy or Modern Style Window”
points to the porous relationship that existed between these terms, suggesting that the
style fantaisie was actually perceived by the inhabitants of nineteenth-century France
as the new, modern style or le style moderne.
The style moderne fused various elements in the decoration of a room, and
was not limited anymore to the inclusion of just one or two atypical objects in an
ensemble otherwise carefully constructed to reflect a specific historic or exotic style.
By the end of the century, taste manuals such as Henri de Noussanne’s Le Goût dans
l’ameublement offered detailed instructions as to how a décor in the style moderne
could be created. Arguing that historical styles would best fit the rooms of a private
mansion or a luxurious apartment, de Noussanne generally advocated the adoption of
the “modern style” in middle-class interiors.
653


siècle,” pp. 7-15. Prignot also exhibited interior designs at different universal and decorative arts
exhibitions and published many pattern books.

653
De Noussanne, Le Goût dans l'ameublement, p. 145. For more information on de Noussanne, see
Froissart Pezone, L’Art dans tout, pp. 56-58.

360
Following the definition given by Mme. Emmeline Raymond in the popular
journal La Mode illustrée, de Noussanne described the style moderne as a “mixture of
styles.”
654
He defined it accordingly: “the more modern it is, the more forbidden
within it everything that is modern.”
655
A room decorated in the “modern style”
would contain seats in all styles – Louis XV sofas, reclining chairs Louis XVI, Henri
II armchairs – as well as Chinese or Japanese embroidered panels, Dutch marquetry
furniture, ancient clocks, ancient Chinese porcelains.
656
In other words, anything was
allowed in an interior in the modern style as long as it dated two or three centuries
earlier, was foreign or exotic. The style moderne thus became a term for successful
eclecticism.
657

Fantasy [fantaisie] was again essential.
658
This time, however, the book
recommended that fantasy be used in a more general sense, as clever creativity.
Clever creativity involved the imaginative recycling of old objects at the expense of
purchasing new ones. More so than with traditional historic styles, which often
required that all furnishing pieces be acquired together so as to successfully blend in

654
Ibid., p. 150. Founded by Emmeline Raymond in 1860, the weekly periodical La Mode illustrée was
published until 1937. Henri de Noussanne, in fact, dedicated Le Goût dans l’ameublement to Mme.
Raymond.

655
Ibid., p. 151.

656
Ibid.

657
With an amalgamation of objects and styles and less tried-out combinations, one could create
original decorative schemes that replaced “the already-seen” quality of traditional styles, which,
according to both de Noussanne and Raymond, was proof of an “inferiority of taste.” On eclecticism as
a means to eschew historic styles and achieve a new decorative aesthetic that was reflected in Art
Nouveau, also see Eleb and Debarre, L’Invention de l'habitation moderne, p. 431.

658
Ibid., p. 155.

361
the decorative scheme chosen, an interior décor in the style moderne was within the
easy reach of many because it could be formed one object at a time. De Noussanne
gave specific instructions as to how such an interior could be achieved, explaining
how old furniture pieces, imitations of antique objects, and modern trifles could
successfully be combined through a well-orchestrated interplay of carpets and
draperies. The unity that such a décor seemed to lack was made up for through the
use of fabrics. Through repeated patterns of color and texture, textiles helped
harmonize the disparate elements of a unified whole.
659

Valuable artistic objects such as eighteenth-century Sèvres porcelains, antique
terra-cottas, or modern bronzes could serve as central pieces in the decoration of any
room in the modern style. To be displayed to their best advantage, they could either
be isolated on the fireplace and separated from the objects around them or instead be
perched high up on a vertical structure, or a podium of some sort.
660
By
accompanying his text with illustrations, de Noussanne demonstrated his theories
visually. A woman’s portrait bust was thus represented on top of such an improvised
support, which, as the author explained, could be purchased at an insignificant price
from any carpenter. (Fig. 5.7) Textiles were, again, called-in for help: an old ball-
gown or paling wedding dress, lace, ribbons, or painted garlands could bring the
plinth to match the decorative scheme of the room that would become its host.
661
Any

659
Ibid., p. 19.

660
Ibid., p. 225.

661
Ibid., p. 226.

362
previous possession, no matter how seemingly unrelated to the decorative scheme of
a room could thus find a new use.
One of the aims of de Noussanne’s book, then, was to teach its readers how to
achieve unity in decoration while staying within the modern style, which, by
definition, was eclectic.
662
As the author explained, nineteenth-century interior design
schemes could not draw any longer on just one of two favored extremes – historic
recreations or random associative endeavors easily engendered by the style fantaisie
or the style moderne. One had to walk the tight rope between them and find a suitable
middle-course for interior design. Using political metaphors, de Noussanne
complained: “between anarchy and the monarchy, we do not know how to choose a
middle-road.”
663

This middle-road, or juste milieu, he exemplified through an account of his
personal dream-house, which he created, at least on paper, for his readers. Within the
different rooms of his house, de Noussanne did not exclude historic or exotic
decorative schemes. Nor did he exclude the fully eclectic “modern style.” However,
he allowed for other themes to settle in, such as that of the hunt, which he especially

662
However, one should not forget that de Noussanne never relinquished historic styles; rather, he
recommended that they be used in parallel to the style moderne, as we have already seen in the first
chapter. The style moderne was thus yet another alternative to the different historic-exotic themes
available in interior decoration at the time, but one which was much cheaper to achieve and maintain.

663
Ibid., pp. 6-7. The original quote reads: “Entre la monarchie et l'anarchie, nous ne savons pas
choisir un juste milieu.” The juste milieu was frequently used in the first half of the nineteenth century
to describe the political agenda of Louis-Philippe during the July Monarchy (1830-1848), which tried
to carve a middle road between popular and monarchical powers. In the second half of the century, the
term was increasingly used to describe the work of artists whose style departed from conservative
academicism, yet did not go as far as representing the modern life through modern movements such as
Impressionism.

363
favored for the dining-room.
664
For his private retreats, Egyptian and religious themes
were favored. His “secular” quarters recreated the atmosphere of Egypt, (Fig. 5.8)
with a sphinx, a palm tree, and sand spread all over the floor.
665
His “sacred” retreat,
on the other hand, took its inspiration from Christianity, and allowed a church-
inspired décor filtered through a Symbolist aesthetic to take over.
666
(Fig. 5.9) In art,
Symbolism often made use of composite animals, such as the sphinx, or stylized and
menacing-looking birds. It also showed a preference for flat surfaces and religious
imagery, both of which were present in de Noussanne’s “sacred retreat” – as shown in
the illustration possibly produced by Eugène Cottin (1840-1902). The sphinx that
dominated the secular retreat was replaced with the daunting image of a crucified
Christ, while the sandy floor which seemed to invite the visitor to lounge gave room
to a church-stall guarded by angels and winged creatures.
During the Third Republic, therefore, taste manuals and pattern books
theorized and visually represented the so-called style moderne and the style fantaisie
as accompaniments and alternatives to older historic or exotic decorative schemes for
bourgeois interiors. Promoting unity in decoration, historic interiors were all
constructed around a so-called “organizing principle” or theme.
667
A past time or

664
Ibid., p. 206.

665
Ibid., p. 215.

666
Nineteenth-century symbolists shared the desire to unite all arts in a unified aesthetic experience.
For more information on Symbolism as an aesthetic movement, see Pierre-Louis Mathieu, The
Symbolist Generation, 1870-1910 (New York: Skira, 1990).

667
For a discussion of how a “principle” had to be at the basis of any successful decorative project,
please refer to Chapter 1. Also Staffe, La Maîtresse de maison, p. 26.

364
remote, exotic place invariably provided inspiration. With the liberation brought by
the eclectic petit salon and the boudoir, however, decorators began to imagine how
one could create an impression of unity in a room without necessarily recreating an
atmosphere of the past or the exotic. Initially just an assemblage of different objects
and styles combined in innovative associations, the style fantaisie and the style
moderne morphed into a new phenomenon. Decorators began to imagine highly-
crafted, holistic decorative schemes, “total works of art” in their own right, which
were based on the model of the traditional historic styles but diverged from them by
rooting their main decorative line or theme in nature or in other such non-historic
subjects.
668

Designs published by popular journals of interior decoration such as Le
Garde-meuble reflected this trend. After the mid-1880s, the magazine began
publishing illustrations such as that of a Window Draped with Nautical and Fishing
Tools.
669
(Fig. 5.10) By using the instruments usually found on a ship as decorative
elements for his window treatment, Maincent carefully eliminated any references to
the past and proposed instead a décor that created the impression of a ship at sea. He
thus suggested travel through and within the private home, not only as a static


668
Introduced by the nineteenth-century German composer Richard Wagner, the notion of the
Gesamtkunstwerk (the total work of art) referred initially specifically to the opera - a staged
performance which encompassed music, theater, and the visual arts. Professing a synthesis of all the
arts, the term has increasingly been used by art historians to describe any integration of multiple art
forms.

669
For more information on Maincent and Guilmard, see Van Allen Schaffner, “Désiré Guilmard.”
This window-curtain design, titled Croisée drapée avec ustensiles de marine et de pêche, was
published in the 309
th
issue of the journal, in 1890.

365
experience of being somewhere else but as the performative action of getting there.
670

We can, therefore, see how an outdoor activity and its tools were transformed into a
decorative scheme for the private interior, which translated into a coherent theme
inspired from the present rather than the past or the exotic.
Already by the beginning of the 1880s, pattern books of interior decoration
designs that proposed drapery schemes of nautical or hunting inspiration as
counterparts to more traditional historic and exotic themes such as Roman, Gothic,
Louis XIV or Chinese were rewarded at various exhibitions. The furniture designer P.
Brunet won the silver medal at the Exposition internationale des sciences appliqués à
l’industrie for a sixty-plate book titled Le Tapissier décorateur de Paris.
671
To Gothic
or Louis XIV drapery designs, featuring in the background a view of Pierrefonds (in
vogue at the time due to Eugène Emmanuel Viollet-le-Duc’s reconstruction) (Fig.
5.11) or, respectively, of Jules Hardouin-Mansart’s Bosquet de Colonnade at
Versailles, (Fig. 5.12) corresponded such innovative models as the non-historical
“The Sciences” or “The Arts,” “The Tragedy” or “The Comedy,” “The Music” or

670
Maincent might have drawn inspiration from Joris-Karl Huysmans’ 1884 novel A Rebours, where
the protagonist’s dining-room was decorated so as to resemble a ship’s cabin. See Joris-Karl
Huysmans, Against Nature (A Rebours), translated by Robert Baldick (London: Penguin Books, 2003),
p. 20. In Des Esseintes’ room, a small window-opening, instead of the real world outside, revealed a
large aquarium with mechanical fish and artificial seaweed.

671
Brunet, Le Tapissier décorateur de Paris. The silver medal is mentioned in Claesen, Catalogue
général, p. 8. Between 1879 and ca.1884, therefore, Brunet’s book also appeared in a Charles Claesen
edition. A certain “P. Brunet” appears under the rubric “dessinateurs industriels” at 18, rue Tournelles
in 1878. See the Annuaire-Almanach du commerce, Didot-Bottin (Paris: Chez Firmin Didot Frères, Fils
et Cie, Imprimeurs-Libraires de l’Institut, 1878). Since many industrial artists desired to associate
themselves with architects at the time, considered superior due to their all-time inclusion in the beaux-
arts academy, it might be that our “architecte d’ameublement” P. Brunet is one and the same with the
industrial artist “P. Brunet” at 18, rue Tournelles. For an account of the status of the decorative arts in
the second half of nineteenth-century France, see Froissart Pezone, L’Art dans tout.

366
“The Dance.”
672
Endowing each of these designs with one of their main theme’s most
easily recognizable attributes, P. Brunet proposed grimacing masks, swords and
spears for “The Tragedy” (Fig. 5.13) or a bust of Molière for “The Comedy,” (Fig.
5.14) just as he used landscape design and architecture to suggest historic times or
settings. The number of themes Brunet illustrated shows the varying pools of
information from which he drew his inspiration.
Brunet also provided designs for the whole decoration of a room - the
architectural ensemble in its entirety. Adding figures to his schemes, possibly to
animate the scene but also as a way to record scale, Brunet proposed historic or exotic
interiors as well as non-historic and non-exotic decorative schemes such as a “Diurnal
Aquatic Interior,” (Fig. 5.15) which he decorated with all the plants that he could
imagine ashore and underwater. Organized around a central non-historic theme, the
“Diurnal Aquatic Interior” not only offered an alternative to the traditional, historic
decorative schemes of the nineteenth century but also prefigured the stylistic
vocabulary of Art Nouveau, which was also characterized by floral shapes and curved
patterns.
673
Straying from historic and exotic themes, designs such as “The Tragedy,”

672
The Bosquet de la Colonnade was designed by Mansart in 1684. See Robert W. Berger, “Mansart's
Colonnade at Versailles: Further Observations,” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 50,
no. 2 (June 1991), pp. 189-191. The first large-scale reconstruction works at Pierrefonds date between
1860 and 1866. However, work on the castle continued even after the end of the Second Empire and
the death of Viollet-le-Duc in 1879. For more information on Pierrefonds in the nineteenth century, see
Badea-Päun, Le Style Second Empire, p. 80.

673
Debora Silverman identifies themed interiors (she uses the terms “ensembles” and “interior
installations”) that attempted to recreate the atmosphere of the eighteenth century, like those of the
Goncourt brothers, to lie at the origins of Art Nouveau. See Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle
France, p. 25. According to her, Edmond and Jules de Goncourt “turned their house into a monument
against bourgeois eclecticism.” See Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-de-Siècle France, p. 34. While I
agree that themed interiors directly influenced the development of Art Nouveau, I do not agree that the

367
“The Comedy,” or the “Aquatic Interior” did nevertheless follow the same organizing
principle that a Louis XIV interior or window treatment did. The subject-matter and
the style changed, but the practice of decorating around a theme subsisted.
674

Trained at the Ecole des beaux-arts, the architect and decorator Alexandre
Sandier took the practice of decorating around an innovative theme even further. In
his work, he repudiated historic styles but continued to produce interior design
combinations which, although verging on eclecticism, followed a consistent
decorative program. After two prolonged stays in the United States, where he first
worked for the architect Russell Sturgis (1836-1909) and then as a stand-alone
architecte-décorateur in New York, Sandier established himself in Paris in 1882 right

Rococo was the only theme or style that had a say in the matter. See Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-
de-Siècle France, p. 9. I also disagree with Silverman that historicism and “bourgeois eclecticism”
were two terms that were necessarily opposed. While Silverman does not acknowledge the possibility
of eclecticism as being themed, I propose that, in the work of decorators such as P. Brunet and
Alexandre Sandier, it was. Moreover, the style moderne and the style fantaisie are two variants of
eclecticism that are also defined in relation to other nineteenth-century themes. For more on Art
Nouveau, see Wesiberg, Becker and Possémé, eds., The Origins of L’Art Nouveau; Greenhalgh, ed.,
Art Nouveau; and Weisberg, Art Nouveau Bing.

674
This practice of decorating around a theme was also employed in such public spaces as the cafés
and cabarets of Paris. The early years of the Third Republic witnessed the opening of a plethora of
such themed establishments, including the Taverne du Bagne (opened in 1885), the Abbaye de la
Thélème (opened in 1886), the Auberge du Clou, the Château d’If, and the Brasserie de l’Enfer, all
opened before 1886. The journalist, writer, collector, art and literary critic John Grand-Carteret (1850-
1927) suggested other possible themes that Parisian cabarets could follow. He proposed a Café du
Théâtre with the history of French theater painted on its walls, a Café des Négociants decorated all-
throughout with scenes from the history of commerce, a Café Mazarin that followed the life history of
the famous cardinal, a Café Américain illustrating scenes from the new world, a Café des Pyramides, a
Café de Suède, a Café de Madrid, des Mosquetaires, d’Henri IV, etc. See John Grand-Carteret,
Raphaël et Gambrinus ou l’art dans la brasserie (Paris: Louis Westhausser, 1886), p. 73. For more
information on the work of Grand-Carteret, see Bertrand Tillier, “Grand-Carteret, John,” in Philippe
Sénéchal and Claire Barbillon, eds., Dictionnaire critique des historiens de l’art actifs en France de la
Révolution à la Première Guerre Mondiale, Paris, INHA, http://www.inha.fr/spip.php?article2347
(visited April 7, 2011).

368
in the midst of the debates about the interior.
675
His rich experience as a draftsman for
such important furniture and interior decorating firms as Herter Brothers in New York
and Damon et Colin in Paris brought him widespread recognition, to the extent that
he was appointed the official architect of the French Fine Arts section at the 1893
World’s Columbian Exhibition in Chicago and the art director at the Sèvres Porcelain
Manufactory in 1897.
676
With Herter Brothers, Sandier worked on such projects as
William Henry Vanderbilt’s monumental residence at 640, Fifth Avenue in New
York. There, he imagined the entire interior architecture, decoration and furniture
from scratch.
677
In Europe, Sandier worked on the interior architectural ensemble of
King Carol I of Romania’s throne-room in the Royal Palace in Bucharest (1884-
1885), where he was also responsible for the entire decorative scheme, from the
throne itself and the room’s furniture to the stained-glass windows, carpets and
curtains that shaped the space. Designed in the neo-byzantine style, the furniture
pieces and decorations were brought to life by the Parisian furnishing company of
Damon et Colin, successors of Krieger, with which Sandier had collaborated at least
since 1883, when he organized their stand at the 1883 Universal Exhibition in

675
Françoise Martin, “Alexandre Sandier, architecte et céramiste (1843-1916): Catalogue des pièces de
la période Sandier conservées au Musée National de Céramique de Sèvres” (Paris: École du Louvre,
1985), pp. 2-6. For more information on Sandier, also see the article prepared by Isabelle Laurin,
scheduled to appear in the journal Sèvres (forthcoming), which I have not been able to see.

676
Ibid., p. 14.

677
Martin, “Alexandre Sandier,” p.3, and Katherine S. Howe et al, Herter Brothers: Furniture and
Interiors for a Gilded Age (New York: Harry N. Abrams in association with the Museum of Fine Arts,
Houston, 1994).

369
Amsterdam.
678
Besides his work as an architect and decorator for various firms,
Sandier also contributed numerous designs for interiors at exhibitions, including the
Salon des arts décoratifs, the Paris Expositions universelles of 1889 and 1900, the
Exposition de la Société des artistes décorateurs, the Grafton Gallery in Britain, as
well as the architecture sections of the regular Parisian Salons.
679
He reproduced
some of these designs in various pattern books as well as in the pages of popular
journals such as the Revue illustrée.
680


678
Martin, “Alexandre Sandier,” pp. 6-8. According to Françoise Martin, the throne that Sandier had
created for Carol I was so famous that small-scale reproductions of it could be purchased for fifteen
centimes at popular French fairs. Supposingly, the king had been so satisfied with Sandier’s designs
that he commissioned the architect to redecorate the dining-room and the library of the palace in the
same style, while the queen ordered a Japanese drawing-room for the couple’s neo-renaissance palace
in Sinaia. For more information on Krieger, see Lainé, “Antoine Krieger, ébéniste.”

679
He contributed designs for a Vestibule and a Salon to the architecture section of the Salon de la
Société des artistes français in 1887, and a set of six drawings prepared for the Revue illustrée at the
same Salon in 1888. In the objets d’art section of the 1894 Salon, he showed a Cabinet orné d’émaux
titled Les Fées, inspired from Charles Perrault and executed by A. Damon et Colin. In 1896, he
exhibited a project for a Galerie d’un amateur d’objets d’art moderne in the decorative arts section of
the Salon. At the 1889 Exposition universelle, Sandier showed a set of five drawings for a Maison
moderne and nine drawings for a Hôtel moderne. At the 1900 Exposition universelle, he exhibited a
design for a monumental fountain as well as a décor for an art gallery and a library interior. At the
Salon des arts décoratifs of 1882 he showed a decorative project for a private mansion and a plaster
model for a vase. He also featured in the Exposition récapitulative of the Société des artistes
décorateurs at the Pavillon de Marsan of the Musée de l'Union centrale des arts décoratifs in 1906 and
at Grafton Gallery in Britain in 1894. See Lewis E. Day, “Une exposition française d'art décoratif
jugée par un anglais,” Revue des arts décoratifs (February 1894), pp. 219-222; Charles Saunier,
“L'Exposition des Artistes Décorateurs au Pavillon de Marsan,” Art et Décoration 20 (December
1906), pp. 187-212; Pierre Sanchez and Xavier Seydoux, eds., Les Catalogues des Salons (Paris:
Echelle de Jacob, 1999-2009): the 1887 Salon, section d’architecture (entry no. 4822 and entry no.
4823), the 1888 Salon, section d’architecture (entry no. 4890), the 1894 Salon, section d’objets d’art
(entry no. 3823), the 1896 Salon, section d’art décoratif (entry no. 4119).

680
The Revue illustrée was published in Paris by Ludovic Baschet between 1885 and 1912. Other
books which popularized Sandier’s designs were Clarence Cook, The House Beautiful: Essays on Beds
and Tables, Stools and Candle-sticks (New York: Scribner, 1878), Alexandre Sandier, Figures
décoratives (Paris: Calavas, s.d.), Alexandre Sandier, Études d’architecture décorative: Décorations
intérieures (Paris: A Guérinet, ca. 1908), Alexandre Sandier, ed., Les Cartons de la Manufacture
Nationale de Sèvres: Époques Louis XVI et Empire (Paris: Librairie générale de l’architecture et des
arts décoratifs, Ch. Massin, ca. 1910), Alexandre Sandier, ed., Les Cartons de la Manufacture
Nationale de Sèvres: Époque moderne (Paris: Librairie générale de l’architecture et des arts décoratifs,

370
Starting in 1886, Sandier issued a series of articles subsumed under the title
“The Modern House” (La Maison moderne) in the Revue illustrée. Like other
theorists of his time, notably Charles Baudelaire, he demanded there that decorators
find inspiration in the world around them rather than in that of the past.
681
It was due
to imitations of Medieval and Renaissance interiors, Sandier asserted, that certain
rooms in French middle-class homes were obfuscated by an abuse of stained glass
and encumbered by feudal mantelpieces; that chairs, instead of adapting to the
smooth curves and clothing of modern women, took the stiff shape of medieval
cathedrals and “transformed the nineteenth-century Parisian, against her wishes, into
a Blanche de Castille, a châtelaine weighed down by her punishment.”
682
As a young
nation, the Americans, Sandier continued, were “not bothered by history and
tradition;” their imagination was less “haunted” by the past.
683
The French, too,
according to the architect, should follow their example. His articles thus called for a
replacement of all styles from the past with images and objects from the present.
They proposed interior decorating schemes for all the rooms of a “modern house,”
which adopted the idea of a general decorative theme yet repudiated the lines of old

Ch. Massin, ca. 1912), Alexandre Sandier, 2800 Formes de vases (Paris: Librairie de l'art ancien et
moderne, ca. 1900), Alexandre Sandier and G. Lechevallier-Chevignard, eds., Formes et décors
modernes de la Manufacture Nationale de Sèvres (Paris: Librairie générale de l’architecture et des arts
décoratifs, Ch. Massin, 1910s).
681
See Charles Baudelaire, “The Painter of Modern Life” (1863). Reprinted in Vanessa Schwartz and
Jeannene M. Przyblyski, eds., The Nineteenth-Century Visual Culture Reader (New York and London:
Routledge, 2004).

682
Alexandre Sandier, “La Maison moderne: Études de décoration et d'ameublement,” Revue illustrée
1, no.8 (Dec. 1885- May 1886), p. 283.

683
Ibid., p. 284.

371
styles. “Instead of taking our motifs from all sorts of documents accumulated in
museums and libraries,” Sandier argued, “we will introduce … in our decorative
schemes the beings and objects that surround us.”
684
The architect thus set himself to
this new task and attempted in the pages of the Revue illustrée to achieve his self-
professed goal: that of replacing the traditional forms and themes of history with new,
refreshing and never-before-seen interior design combinations.
Sandier commenced his series of articles with a general presentation of the
house whose cost he estimated at no more than 100,000 francs. To this sum, he added
just as much for the interior decorations and design, which he divided in the
following way: 9,000 francs for the furniture and decorative elements of the stairway
and the vestibule, 15,000 francs for the drawing-room, 12,000 for the dining-room,
10,000 for the library, 6,000 for the smoking-room, 8,000 for the wife’s bedroom,
4,000 for the husband’s bedroom, 9,000 for the boudoir, 5,000 for the children’s
room, 3,000 for the guest room, 2,000 for the nannies’ quarter, 2,000 for the kitchen,
and 5,000 for the bathrooms.
685
Including all the important types of rooms that could
be found in a relatively well-off French interior, Sandier thus planned to offer the
readers of the magazine examples of innovative decorative schemes for the entire
house, whose single main requirement was to depart from traditional historic styles.

684
Alexandre Sandier, “La Maison moderne IV: Vestibules,” Revue illustrée 2, no. 14 (June-December
1886), p. 488.

685
Sandier, “La Maison moderne,” pp. 285-286. An extra of 10,000 francs were set aside for
unexpected expenses.

372
For example, adjacent to the mistress’ bedroom, designed so as to evoke
through appropriate color combinations and ornaments such as the pine cone the
silvery atmosphere of moonshine during a dark-blue night, (Fig. 5.16) Sandier
imagined a decorative scheme based on the objects used in a woman’s grooming for
the bathroom (cabinet de toilette).
686
He included abstract patterns of hairpins on the
wallpaper behind the mirror, door curtains, and on the panels above the two doors,
and combined throughout the rest of the room the iconography of combs, curling
irons, scissors and small hand-held mirrors. To these, he added shapes of those plants
used in the fabrication of feminine oils and perfumes such as the pink lotus, the
violet, and the iris among others. To illustrate his vision, Sandier included in the
magazine an image of the wall harboring the mirror. (Fig. 5.17) Hidden behind drop-
down curtains adorned with hairpins, the two doors on either side were projected to
lead into the bedroom on the left and into a wardrobe on the right. The lotus flower,
depicted in all corners of the mirror, the upper corners of the two doors, and on the
frieze topping the entire composition, took charge of the wall’s ornamentation. Her
back towards the massive mirror, and possibly engaged in the smelling of a flower,
candle, or perfume bottle of the like shown by her side, the mistress of Sandier’s
house appears at ease amidst her surroundings, secure within the precincts of her
home. To finish this cabinet de toilette’s decoration, the architect proposed flowers

686
See Alexandre Sandier, “La Maison moderne: Chambre de dame,” Révue illustrée 13, no. 134
(December 1891-June 1892) and Alexandre Sandier, “La Maison moderne XIX: Cabinet de toilette,”
Révue illustrée 14 (June-December 1892). For the mistress’ bedroom, the architect suggested two
alternative color schemes: one, dominated by intense reds, somber violets and emerald greens, inspired
by an incendiary sunset; the other, of lighter hues and barely-distinguished silhouettes, characteristic of
a spring’s morning.

373
for the ceiling and, if more rather than less ornamentation was desired, a history of
hairstyling throughout time for the various cupboard doors left plain in the initial
drawings. This latter decorative pattern would be obtained through a representation of
the main types of French women’s hairdos from Gallic times to the Directoire.
687

For the salon, Sandier followed the same “system” of choosing his decorative
line from the everyday objects that surrounded him. As he explained, “the general
decoration of the ceiling, wall panels, and painted scenes surmounting the doors will
also be borrowed, following our system [emphasis my own], from women’s finery
and accessories.”
688
Necklaces, ribbons, medallions, fans and other such elements of a
woman’s outfit became his focus, in parallel to an iconography of feasts and
celebrations characterized by rose and laurel garlands.
689
Thus, for example, on either
side of the door leading to the dining-room, wall panels in pink plush were decorated
with golden laurel branches and green leaves, interspersed here and there with
necklaces. (Fig. 5.18) Atop these panels and separated from them by garlands of
beads artfully intermingled with laurel leaves were rose wreaths displayed against a
sky-blue background in round medallions. A frieze that took small hand-held fans as
its main decorative features surmounted the entire decorative ensemble. A similar
design of necklaces, laces, strings of pearls and grapevine tendrils adorned the red

687
As an alternative to this historical pattern, Sandier proposed a set of motifs following the hairdos of
women from different French provinces at the time.

688
Alexandre Sandier, “La Maison moderne VI: Le Salon,” Revue illustrée 2, no. 16 (June-December
1886), p. 562.

689
Ibid.

374
curtains and upholstered seats, and the same decorative patterns were repeated
throughout all the walls of the room.
Both in the cabinet de toilette and in the salon, Sandier thus imagined modern
decorative ensembles that bordered on the eclectic, yet which were based on non-
historic themes. The dining-room was no exception. Here, the architect also imagined
a total environment that capitalized on the idea of the unified theme, yet he took the
natural world as his stylistic guide. He considered all elements that contributed to this
room’s appearance - cutlery, furniture, and tableware included, as foretold by the first
image in the series.
690
(Fig. 5.19) Equally important, decorative elements and objects
of every-day came together to form a unified whole. Nature and its beings provided
the theme, which was also reflected on the dining table through the use of plants and
the flicker of plates and glasses.
Sandier prepared designs for all the walls of the dining-room, the ceiling
included. As shown in the decoration of the wall housing the fireplace, plants were
juxtaposed against similar motifs in stained-glass windows and seashell ornaments
found on either side of the fireplace joined an overarching peacock. (Fig. 5.20)
Arguing that more than anywhere else, the dining-room required a “living decoration”
(décoration vivante), the artist proceeded to imagine a universe of plants and animals,

690
Alexandre Sandier, “La Maison moderne X: La Salle à manger,” Revue illustrée 3, no. 32
(December 1886-June 1887), p. 259.

375
wild and domestic, terrestrial and marine.
691
He summarized his philosophy in the
following way:
To the partisans of an all-modern and realist decoration, without reference to
any style whatever that may be, the things and beings from water, land and
sky that people use as nourishment reveal a thousand motifs as old as nature
and always as new as herself. In this system, we reserve the foundation to the
inhabitants of water, the middle-part of the wall to the plants and animals of
the earth, and the upper border to birds.
692

Wild and domestic birds, found on either side of the fireplace – crowned by a
peacock, as both wild and domestic at once – were thus reunited with sea and land
creatures and coexisted happily with men and women alike.
693
If seashells bordered
the upper part of both panels placed lowest in the wall’s interior decorating scheme,
the decoration of the middle panels corresponded to the plants found in a wheat field,
grains elongated and oriented upwards towards the sky. To give a better sense of
space, Sandier also included a contemporary female servant against the room’s
fireplace, a device that he repeated over and over, but which, in this case, helped
include humans in the realm of living creatures.
694


691
Ibid., p. 260.

692
Ibid., p. 263.

693
Sandier’s use of the peacock as a main motif might be a tribute to James McNeil Whistler’s 1876
Peacock Room, with which the artist must have been familiar given his interaction with other members
of the Aesthetic movement such as E. W. Godwin. Indeed, some of Sandier’s earlier furniture designs
were published in Clarence Cook’s The House Beautiful next to Godwin’s designs from The British
Architect, modified for that publication by Francis Lathrop. See Cook, The House Beautiful. For an
account of the connections between Godwin and Cook, see Emma Ferry, “‘...information for the
ignorant and aid for the advancing...:’ Macmillan’s ‘Art at Home’ series, 1876-83,” in Jeremy Aynsley
and Kate Forde, eds., Design and the Modern Magazine (Manchester and New York: Manchester
University Press), 134-155.

694
The insertion of the figure of the servant might also have been an allusion to the social status of
those who would (or should) find this decorative scheme appealing. Although relatively common in

376
Indeed, within the text that he wrote to accompany his illustrations, Sandier
explained some of the choices he had made. For him, the world of living beings
represented one of the most powerful sources of inspiration for interior decoration.
He referenced Jules Michelet’s book, The Insect, which had introduced a new
aesthetic vocabulary inspired by the small world of the insect, the plant, the seashell,
or the mollusk in a chapter titled “On the Renewal of Our Arts through the Study of
the Insect.”
695
Building on Michelet’s discussion, Sandier invented a decorative
vocabulary of his own, which he exemplified in his Revue illustrée dining-room: “By
following this fruitful principle, and demanding in turn to the flower, the leaf, the
butterfly, the shell … the secret of their colors … the radiation of their forms and the
grooves that nature had drawn for them … we will give our draperies, frames, and
decoration of our house in its entirety a character of absolute novelty.”
696

Sandier designed all the elements of the room so as to reflect the general
theme of nature and its beings. Through color and form, he hoped to create on the
table a reflection of the living shapes that populated his walls.
697
In addition to the
iridescent flicker of the various metal combinations of knives’ and forks’ handles, the
bright red of the liquor-filled cups and the pink or blue-green of Venetian glassware,

middle-class households of the second half of the nineteenth century, the female servant would not be
found in any families with lower income. For more information on the role of servants or the nanny in
the nineteenth-century household, see Michelle Perrot, “Roles and Characters,” in Perrot, ed., A
History of Private Life.

695
Jules Michelet, L’Insecte (Paris: Librairie de L. Hachette et Cie, 1858).

696
Alexandre Sandier, “La Maison moderne V: Vestibules (Fin),” Revue illustrée 2, no. 15 (June-
December 1886), p. 528.

697
Sandier, “La Maison moderne X,” pp. 262-263.

377
Sandier also recommended the use of colorful ceramic dishes instead of the
traditional and more plain metal silverware. He proposed the colorful feathers of the
peacock or the rooster as especially suitable decorative motifs. The floor, too, he
considered part and parcel of the general decorative scheme, and for its
ornamentation he recommended shapes imitating the rubbish falling off from dinner
table, including poultry bones, empty shells, raisin seeds, sticks of celery, and cherry
clusters.
698
The ceiling, on the other hand, was designed so as to reflect the sky, the
latter’s view interrupted only by a few branches of cherry blossoms intended to make
the trompe-l’oeil impression more complete. (Fig. 5.21) One can thus observe how
the artist stretched the idea of the total work of art, which would come to dominate
the aesthetic language of Art Nouveau later in the century, to its extremes, bringing
nature and the outdoors inside.
699

Not even today do scholars agree on where Art Nouveau originated. Nor do
they agree on how it looked. “When it started or finished, where precisely it
happened, or even what its politics and ideas meant,” as Paul Greenhalgh explains,
also are matters open to debate.
700
A “multi-faceted, complex phenomenon that defied
... any attempt to reduce it to singular meanings and moments,” the style that is now

698
Alexandre Sandier, “La Maison moderne XI: La Salle à manger (suite),” Revue illustrée 3, no. 33
(December 1886-June 1887), p. 304.

699
Trompe-l’oeil scenes from nature had been employed in the decoration of rooms before the latter
half of the nineteenth century, first with the help of frescoes and tapestries, and, later, of scenic
wallpaper. See Ronald Rees, Interior Landscapes: Gardens and the Domestic Environment (Baltimore
and London: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1993), p. 132.

700
Paul Greenhalgh, “Introduction: The Style and the Age,” in Art Nouveau: 1890-1914 (New York:
Harry N. Abrams, 2000), p. 15.

378
most commonly identified with the decorative arts of nineteenth century has been
portrayed as the solution to a rampaging bourgeois eclecticism which, throughout the
better part of the century, had mixed objects and styles in an unforeseeable and
unreasonable way.
701
At the opposite end, Art Nouveau has been interpreted as a
fusion of gothic, rococo, Japanese, and organic motifs in the most eclectic style of
them all.
702
Although differing from country to country and region to region, its
common ideas seem to have been three: that “the new style was to exist in all media;”
that it “would aim at the creation of ‘total’ works of art;” and that it would develop a
new artistic language liberated from historical influences and focusing instead on
nature.
703

Siegfried Bing’s 1895 gallery L’Art Nouveau has traditionally been seen as
the main catalyst in France of the radically new aesthetic movement that took up its
name.
704
Equal attention has been paid to Japonisme, the French eighteenth-century
decorative arts’ revival, and the new craft practices developed in Britain, Belgium,
and the United States as major influences on the style that would unshackle the

701
Ibid., p. 17. For art nouveau as solution to bourgeois eclecticism see Saisselin, The Bourgeois and
the Bibelot. The theory that Saisselin puts forward in this book, namely that nineteenth-century French
bourgeois interiors were a miss-matched jumble of eclectic objects, I refute in Chapter 1. Nouvel-
Kammerer, Le Mobilier Français and Watson, Literature and Material Culture also see the bourgeois
interiors from the second half of nineteenth-century France as eclectic.

702
For art nouveau as a synthesis of various styles see the essays published in Greenhalgh, ed., Art
Nouveau. For the art nouveau interior as an eclectic synthesis of multiple objects in various styles,
which came out of a “marketplace modernism” aesthetic formed under the general guidance of the
mistress of the house, see Tiersten, Marianne in the Market, p. 68.

703
See Greenhalgh, “Introduction: The Style and the Age,” p. 19 and Silverman, Art Nouveau in Fin-
de-Siècle France, p. 1.

704
Weisberg, Becker, and Possémé, eds., The Origins of L'Art Nouveau.

379
decorative arts from the clasp of the past and the tyranny of history.
705
Yet the
transformations that occurred in the aftermath of Haussmannization and its wide-scale
reconstruction of Paris in the written texts and visual sources concerned with the
proper decoration of the private interior, especially those about the petit salon and the
boudoir, have received little to no attention in scholarly volumes.
706
The release fr