Madeleine Lemaire (1845-1928)
Fanny
Reed. Reminiscences Musical and Other. Boston: Knight and Millet, 1903. Pages
85-90.
CHAPTER VII: MADELEINE LEMAIRE.
Who that knows her does not love Madame Madeleine Lemaire, the most gracious and fascinating of women and a most brilliant star in the artistic world of Paris! At a soiree at Princess Scilla’s, some years since, my attention was attracted by a very sympathetic and intelligent face; I asked this lady’s name, and was told that my inconnue was the famous aquarellist, Madeleine Lemaire.
She kindly invited me to visit her in her pretty studio in the rue Monceau. The room seemed a veritable floral bower. The artist was surrounded by roses (which are her favourite models) in the greatest profusion and the most brilliant colouring. She gave me the warmest of welcomes, and introduced to me her charming daughter. As we talked, my eyes could not but glance about this ideal home, attracted by a multitude of beautiful objects. On the wall, in a prominent position, hangs a lovely portrait of Mlle. Lemaire by Chaplin; there are numerous sketches by Mme. Lemaire herself, and many precious souvenirs from artist friends. This was truly a red-letter day to me, marking as it did the beginning of a delightful friendship. This sweet-natured woman contributes in ways innumerable to the happiness of all who know her. Not infrequently she lends the aid of her talent to the charities of Paris. Her exquisitely painted fans are among the greatest treasures offered for sale at charity-bazaars, and her graceful designs, sometimes pencil-drawings, sometimes in sepia or India-ink, sometimes in colour, representing either figures or flowers, and admirably reproduced, serve to embellish programmes of the evening’s entertainment; or else, as in the case of the one given here, draw attention to an appeal, poetic or otherwise, for the particular charity in hand.
One cannot wonder that “All Paris” seeks an entree to this unique house, for Mme. Lemaire’s salon is essentially eclectic, and has a distinct cachet of its own. Under the influence of the cultivated and intellectual groups who gather there, artistic talent of whatever kind seems to expand, like Mme. Lemaire’s own roses, and to possess more brilliancy than elsewhere, for the subtle charm of sympathetic surroundings brings the children of genius to their best.
The little studio is often filled to overflowing with noble and clever guests. Dukes and duchesses, princes, artists, actors, celebrities from all parts of Europe, rejoice in the genial and magnetic atmosphere surrounding our queen of flowers and her pretty daughter.
The most famous French actors are ready to offer their services for Madame
Lemaire’s pleasure. The recollection of a little comedy given at her house by
Coquelin, Rejane, and Baron brings back the laughter with which we greeted the
performance. Ripples of delighted merriment seemed to spread over the audience
from every gesture and word of these inimitable artists, and what an audience it
was! And of what a rare kind the appreciation – that response meeting genius
upon the instant with delighted and complete comprehension of the bon-mot, the
jeu d’ esprit, the unlooked-for situation!
There was the almost incessant murmur of applause so spontaneous as to be unconscious of its own utterance – that one hears only from a Parisian audience – stimulating the actors to even greater excellence. The play itself was only a clever trifle, but it was written expressly for Mme. Lemaire and never performed
elsewhere, which gave it immense distinction. Quite unaware of the exclusiveness which attached to this little gem, I asked Mme. Lemaire, a few days later, if I might take it home to read. She, who, as a rule, granted all favours so graciously, felt obliged to deny this. Mme. Lemaire’s studio is a little building in the court-yard of her house, and for the performance of this play, she built out a temporary extension of it, so that there was sufficient space for the stage and an excellent auditorium for the guests.
Whether it is a little play, acted by the great artists of the Theatre-Francais in her atelier with its annex thrown out for the occasion, or a Pavane, danced by a ballet troupe from the Grand Opera on a platform in the open air, on the islet in the lake of the Bois de Boulogne at one of Mme. Lemaire’s summer fetes,
or whatever she may have arranged for the pleasure of her guests, it is sure to be interesting.
Thoroughly as she is the accomplished hostess, however, and the charming femme du monde, she is none the less the finished and versatile artist. Her talent is by no means confined to flowers, but in figures and portraits she has had great success. A fine portrait of Coquelin as Gringoire has been greatly admired. The
accomplished critic Charles Blanc paid her a very high tribute of praise some years ago: after speaking of her superb colouring in floral representations, he says of her work that it is “le dernier mot de l’aquarelle,” which means, I suppose, that it is the consummate perfection of water-colour painting.
Madame Lemaire is at present employed upon a set of illustrations for Owen Meredith’s Lucile shortly to be published. Previous illustrations from her pencil which have been greatly admired are those of Hervieu’s Flirt, l’Abbe Constantin, and Daudet’s Lettres d’un Moulin.
I have given but a brief sketch of this artist, who holds so eminent a position in Paris. We, less gifted, are grateful for the privilege of knowing her, and enjoying the pleasures of her enchanted atelier. The rare personality of Mme. Lemaire seems to be expressly described in the well-known words: “To be charming, gifted, and beloved is most precious, but to be charming, gifted, beloved, and good – is ideal!”