_François Boucher_ (French: 1704-1770).
Boucher, "the Anacreon of Painting," was the typical
painter-decorator of the Louis-quinze period. He painted (as
Mr. Dobson sings in _Old World Idylls_)--
Rose-water Raphael,--_en couleur de rose_,
The crowned Caprice, whose sceptre, nowise sainted,
Swayed the light realm of ballets and bon-mots;
Ruled the dim boudoir's _demi-jour_, or drove
Pink-ribboned flocks through some pink-flowered grove.
Made of his work a kind of languid Maying,
Filled with false gods and muses misbegot;--
A Versailles Eden of cosmetic youth,
Wherein most things went naked, save the Truth.
Boucher is represented by no less than 21 canvases at Hertford
House, some of them of considerable historical interest. For
Boucher owed much to the favour of Madame de Pompadour, who
purchased in 1753 the two fine pictures of "Sunrise" and
"Sunset" now at Hertford House. In the same collection are
the idyllic and erotic subjects with which Boucher decorated
the boudoir at the Hôtel de l'Arsenal in which the Pompadour
was wont to receive her royal lover. He also painted several
portraits of the all-powerful favourite, whom he instructed in
the art of etching; one of these portraits is also at Hertford
House. Boucher was the son of a designer for embroideries. He
spent some years in Rome, but returned to Paris untouched by
the great works he had seen. He suited his art to the taste of
the time, and had his reward in reaping considerable wealth by
his productions, which, including drawings for the engravers,
he poured forth in thousands. In 1755 he became inspector
of the Gobelins, an appointment which he resigned in 1765
on becoming first painter to the king. Sir Joshua Reynolds
describes a visit to Boucher, whom he found "at work on a very
large picture without drawings or models of any kind." Sir
Joshua allows, however, to some of his earlier works, "grace
and beauty and good skill in composition." His easy execution
and often dainty colour are also admired. He was the idol of
his day, but his meretricious art was the subject of very
pungent criticism from the not very austere Diderot.[211]
For another version of the same subject, see 659.