History Spotlight: Adélaïde Labille

If you have read my blog about Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun, chances are that you enjoy this article about Adélaïde Labille-Guiard – a fellow female artist. They are two of only four females accepted into the Academy in 1783. Critics at the time liked to portray them as contemporary rivals, since they had many in common. However, there is no solid evidence of rivalry or friendship, since formal history often doesn’t take relationships and feelings into account. One concrete fact is that both female artists have supreme talents and suffered from male jealousy to political fluctuations in 18th century.

A calculated career

Adélaïde didn’t have any artistic family background, she was one of eight children born to a Paris shopkeeper. Despite that, she turned to artists in her neighborhood, first painting miniatures with Francois-Ele Vincent, then working with pastel taught by Maurice Quentin de La Tour and then Francoi Andre Vincent (son of Francois – Elie). She worked her way up the academia art world gradually, from joining the Academia de Saint Luc, exhibiting at the Salon de la Correspondance and finally the Academia Royale de Peinture et de Sculpture. While Vigee-Le Brun was preferred by the Queen, Adelaide painted King Louis XVI’s aunts, Mesdames Adelaide and Victoire along with a wider range of topic.

Marie Adélaïde de France, Known as Madame Adélaïde;
pastel on blue paper mounted on canvas;
28.74 x 23.14 in (730 x588 mm)

However, she couldn’t have planned for the French revolution. She welcomed the Revolution and supported with ‘“patriotic donations”. However, the subjects of her previous portraits became the liabilities, attracting criticism from men and even danger. The post-revolutionary successor to the Academy decided to exclude woman from the art world. The Directory of the Department of Paris required Labille-Guiard to hand over an enormous group portrait, commissioned by the king’s brother to burned. She saught refuge in the countryside and only returned to Paris in 1795 and die in 1803. If there was anything from the Revolution benefiting her, she was able to divorce her husband, Louis Nicholas Guiard and married her rumored to be lover and teacher, Andre Vincent in 1800. (Auricchio (2009))

Madame Elisabeth de France (1764–1794),
Pastel on blue paper, seven sheets joined, laid down on canvas,
Oval, 31 x 25 3/4 in. (78.7 x 65.4 cm.)

A feminist

Despite her formal education and training, she was greeted with controversy and rumors. Vincent, who was rumored to be her lover at the time, was said to have ‘touches up’ Labille-Guiard – an offend towards both her paintings and personal life. (more: “His love makes your talent. Love dies and talent falls”). More ridiculous tales including her 2000 lovers were only stopped after her appealing to a well-placed patron, who was possibly the wife of the director of the Batiments du roy. She was outraged, of course: “One must expect to have one’s talent ripped apart”. (McPhee (2021))

Portrait of François-André Vincent, pastel, 23.81x 19.6 in (65×50 cm)

In the argument in the Academy on contributing to the regeneration of the nation, she was the only woman, naturally attracting criticism. (Auricchio (2009)) She proposed increasing numbers of women being admitted to the Academy, but was rejected. Despite the term revolutionary with his name, Jacques Louis David, emphasized: “The rewards destined for artists cannot be without danger for woman [since art requires] long and hard study … incompatible with the modest virtues of their sex”. (McPhee (2021))

She had always dreamt of establishing a school for female artists, which can be seen in her most important work “Self-Portrait with Two Pupils”. Besides her foremost position as her prestigious artist for the royal family, she expressed herself as the educator and supporter for female artists. One of the students shown was Marie Gabrielle Capet, her favorite students and another talented artist. Both shared the dream of a school for female artists and lived together even after the marriage to Vincent. After A’s death, Capet kept taking care of Vincent.

Atelier of Madame Vincent, 1808. Painting of Adélaïde Labille-Guiard painted in 1808 by her pupil Marie Capet.

An educator


Self-Portrait with Two Pupils, Marie Gabrielle Capet and Marie Marguerite Carreaux de Rosemond , 1785
Oil on canvas; 83 x 59 1/2 in. (210.8 x 151.1 cm)

In the painting “Self-Portrait with Two Pupils,” she chose to show herself in a fashionable dress and a straw hat, not quite the style expected in an artist’s studio. Let’s not forget that she grew up with fabrics around, and she tended to indulge in the latest fashion in her works. She appeared to be wearing robes à l’anglaise, “fitted close to the waist in the front and back.”(Fashion History Timeline (Klopfer, n.d.)) She dressed herself in the latest fashion of a low plunging neckline and revealing bust line, which is similar to Vigee Lebrun’s portrait of Marie Antoinette. Along with two other females who dressed completely distinguished form each other, the purpose of dress choice was possibly to showcase her expertise in rendering cloth, especially the latest fashion in society.

Her silk dress’s pastel blue color also reflected the characteristics of the Rococo style. She was over 30 years old, married, and had been working for more than 10 years when the painting was made.

In the portrait, she and one of her students, Marie Marguerite Carreaux, smiled and looked directly at the audience, while Marie Gabrielle Capet was staring at the canvas. Carreaux was possibly wearing a chemise dress, which was usually seen with the straw hat outside rather than inside a studio. Capet, on the other hand, was dressed in what resembled the attire of a female artist working in her environment. Her lighting rendering skill was shown here, with Capet’s youthful face was softly lit, while Carreaux was almost entirely in the dark. (Fashion History Timeline (Klopfer, n.d.))

Marie Gabrielle Capet and Marie Marguerite Carreaux de Rosemond sketch,
Black chalk with stumping, red and white chalks on beige paper

One notable thing is the straw hat, an object didn’t go well with any dresses or the indoors studio. Pairing a formal fashionable dress with a straw hat could indicate that Adélaïde didn’t see herself as completely belonging to the fancy world of the royals. In fact, her dress was the only ‘fancy’ thing in a simple studio.

Compared to other portraits by her and a self-portrait by her contemporary, Vigee Le Brun, she didn’t include any flowers but chose to include a sculpture of a vestal virgin and a bust of their father. This could reflect her modesty and indicate that her final goal was to attain the same status as the males in the Academy who painted historical scenes—the most important genre at the time.

The stick she is holding supports this notion; it was more likely that she was working on a grand scene rather than portraits and still lifes, which were more suitable for females. This was a bold goal for a woman, but with her students present, she likely aimed to push more female artists into the limelight alongside her own achievements.

In the end

Adélaïde Labille-Guiard’s dream didn’t come true, there was no art school for female artists nor there were more females in the Academy. Nevertheless, her life and work embody resilience, talent, and a progressive vision for women in the arts. Despite facing societal prejudice, political upheaval, and personal challenges, she carved out a place for herself in the male-dominated art world. Her advocacy for female artists, exemplified in her iconic Self-Portrait with Two Pupils, highlights her dedication to empowering women and redefining their roles in artistic academia. Labille-Guiard’s legacy serves as an enduring reminder of the barriers she broke and the paths she paved for future generations of women in art.

References

Auricchio, L. (2009). Adélaïde Labille-Guiard. Harvard Magazine. Retrieved January 20, 2025, from https://www.harvardmagazine.com/2009/09/adelaide-labille-guiard

Klopfer, M. (n.d.). 1785 – Labille-Guiard, self-portrait with two pupils. Fashion History Timeline. Retrieved January 20, 2025, from https://fashionhistory.fitnyc.edu/1785-labille-guiard-self-portrait

McPhee, P. (2021). Hidden women of history: Adélaïde Labille-Guiard, prodigiously talented painter. University of Melbourne. Retrieved January 20, 2025, from https://findanexpert.unimelb.edu.au/news/3011-hidden-women-of-history–ad%C3%A9la%C3%AFde-labille-guiard–prodigiously-talented-painter

National Museum of Women in the Arts (NMWA). (2021). Royalists to romantics: Spotlight on Adélaïde Labille-Guiard. Retrieved January 20, 2025, from https://nmwa.org/blog/artist-spotlight/royalists-to-romantics-spotlight-on-adelaide-labille-guiard

Louvre Museum. (n.d.). Portrait of Madame Adélaïde [Painting]. Retrieved January 20, 2025, from https://collections.louvre.fr/en/ark:/53355/cl020212847

The Metropolitan Museum of Art (Met). (n.d.). Adélaïde Labille-Guiard: Self-portrait with two pupils [Painting]. Retrieved January 20, 2025, from https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/436840

The Metropolitan Museum of Art (Met). (n.d.-b). Adélaïde Labille-Guiard: Portrait of Madame Adélaïde [Painting]. Retrieved January 20, 2025, from https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/439405

The Metropolitan Museum of Art (Met). (n.d.-c). Adélaïde Labille-Guiard: Portrait of a woman in profile [Painting]. Retrieved January 20, 2025, from https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/335183

Wikimedia Commons. (n.d.-a). Labille-Guiard, A. (1787). Marie Adélaïde de France [Painting]. Retrieved January 20, 2025, from https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Labille-Guiard,_Ad%C3%A9la%C3%AFde_-_Marie_Ad%C3%A9la%C3%AFde_de_France_-_Versailles_MV5940.jpg#mw-jump-to-license

Wikimedia Commons. (n.d.-b). Capet, M. G. (1808). Atelier of Madame Vincent [Painting]. Retrieved January 20, 2025, from https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Marie-Gabrielle_Capet_-_Atelier_of_Madame_Vincent_-_1808.jpg#mw-jump-to-license

Art History Spotlight: Yayoi Kusama

One thing I notice when studying art history is the downtrend in the value of arts and the increasing diversity of arts. It is used to be ridiculously expensive and exclusive to the aristocrat, then slowly going down. The introduction of technology in the Enlightenment age makes paints, art tools, etc. cheaper and more accessible. Prints were spread throughout the world. Arts, along with wine and other collectibles, became a source of financial investment.

What’s the role of an artist in this diverse special market? This market isn’t controlled by supply and demand but sometimes by an artist’s death and the wealth of some collectors. And how would us society measure an artist’s productivity? How many paintings they produce or how much money they earn? Van Gogh created about 2000 artworks and didn’t get a penny of his artworks’ value when he was alive. Vermeer only painted about 3 – 4 paintings a year, which accounts to 34 surviving pieces, he died in 1675 and was ‘rediscovered’ in 19th century. Most of his life stories are theories based on church book, ledger’s book, sales record and court recordings. His family declared bankruptcy right after he died.

So how should the art economy run and what role should each person take? That’s also my big question as an artist myself in the age of artificial intelligence and social media. That’s also why I sympathize with the art installation “The Narcissus Garden” by Yayoi Kusama.

Yayoi Kusama is now famous as the “Princess of Polka Dots” due to her hallucinatory visions of “dots” and “nets”.

The art installation is first shown as an unofficial part of the 33rd Venice Biennale exhibit in 1966. She received financial support from her friend Lucio Fontana and permission from the chairman of the Biennale Committee. She staged 1500 mass-produced plastic silver globes, similar to the a fortune teller’s ball with two signs “Narcissus garden, Kusama” and “Your Nacissium [sic]”. Visitors can buy the mirror ball for 2 dollars each. Kusama also distributed flyers showing off her work. Ironically, the Biennale officials stepped in and stopped her action.

Yayoi Kusama in Narcissus Garden, 1966, installed in Venice Biennale, Italy, 1966 (photo: Yayoi Kusama Studio) © YAYOI KUSAMA. Courtesy David Zwirner, New York; Ota Fine Arts, Tokyo/Singapore/Shanghai; Victoria Miro, London/Venice.

However, the Narcissus Garden was commissioned and re-installed at various settings including Instituto Inhotim, Brazil; Central Park, New York;  Hayward Gallery, London; most recent in The Momentary (a museum in Arkansas). Much later in 1993, she was officially invited to represent Japan at the 45th Venice Biennale.

The most common interpretation is about narcissistic side of people. You look into the balls and you will see yourselves. You will look at another you, a distorted version. The version in Central Park, New York set the balls next to river, paying homage to the Greek myths of Narcissus. You can go further by taking a selfie with the reflective ball, having an image of different versions of yourself. And it can go on and on, considering the image will possibly go online and many people will see you. In each of your friend or follower’s mind, there will be another version of you existing.

However, if we look back at the very first installation, the action of selling the ball is important as well. Considering each ball is a piece of the big artwork, the artist gives away part of her arts to be viewed in the eyes of the audience, then in turn to get paid to create more. A part of the artist merges with a part of the person being painted, creating a new person on paper or canvas. Some persons will only see themselves because that’s the literal image on the ball, saying “Hey, I can do it myself! Why do I have to pay you to do something so easy?”.

The 20th century in which Kusama lived most of her life was the time when animations, magazines and printing industry developed quickly. Artists no longer sold their works only through art galleries or art dealers; but can work for newspaper (namely: J.C. Leyendecker) or animation production (the first animation in 1908). However, these career choices often require the artist to work on tight deadlines and productivity was prioritized. The public can also get prints or see the artwork via television. It is a favorable move for the audience, but not for the artist. Art is not something valuable anymore. Look at Kusama, she only sold her balls for 2 dollars each, which possibly just covered the price of production, transportation and arrangement of 1500 reflective balls. It goes further today, when you can scroll through Instagram with thousands of artworks for free. You don’t have to travel long way to enter a gallery anymore, now it’s turn for the artists to complain about their works don’t reach you.

That’s why I sympathize with this art installation so much and fall into the rabbit hole about Yayoi Kusama to get inspired by her boldness and vividness in her art world.

She now has her own museum in Japan, which only admits visitors booking in advance.