The career of Philippe-Jacques van Bree unfolded between the artistic traditions of Northern and Southern Europe. Trained at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Antwerp under his brother Mathieu-Ignace, he went to Paris in 1811 and entered the studio of Anne-Louis Girodet-Trioson. Italy soon became central to his art. After a first stay there between 1816 and 1818, van Bree returned in 1821 and settled in Rome, where he frequented the community of Dutch and Belgian artists. His journeys to Naples and Florence left a lasting mark on his imagination. On his return to Brussels in 1834, he enjoyed considerable success at the Belgian Salons with Troubadour-style paintings devoted to historical subjects, before turning towards an Orientalist taste. His work is distinguished by a refined language, in which precision of draughtsmanship is combined with the delicacy of his figures, as in The Homage to Raphael, recently acquired by the Musée Fabre in Montpellier (inv. 2020.6.1), or in Laura and Petrarch at the Fountain of Vaucluse. Here, the poet interrupts his writing, his gaze raised towards the sky, facing a Romantic landscape in rosy tones, suffused with a soft, hazy light. This scene, in which poetic creation mingles with contemplation of a picturesque landscape, finds a feminine echo in the work presented here.
Its protagonist is Corinne, one of the most celebrated heroines of Romantic literature and the eponymous character of the novel Corinne, or Italy, published in 1807 by Madame de Staël. An Italian poet admired for her genius and independence, Corinne falls in love with Lord Oswald Nelvil, a young Scottish aristocrat who has come to Italy following the death of his father. Their love is nevertheless doomed from the outset: Oswald has promised his father that he will marry an Englishwoman. Van Bree depicts one of the most poignant moments in the novel, at Cape Misenum, overlooking the Bay of Naples and Mount Vesuvius. While Corinne takes part in the festivities organised with the local inhabitants, she suddenly withdraws, overcome by a premonition of the end of her love.
“The air they breathed was delightful; it filled the soul with a feeling of joy which animated all those present, and even took hold of Corinne. She was invited to join the peasant women in their dance, and at first she gladly consented; but scarcely had she begun when the darkest thoughts made the amusements in which she was taking part hateful to her, and she quickly withdrew from the dancing and the music; she went and sat at the end of the cape, on the seashore. […]
From the top of the little hill which projects into the sea and forms Cape Misenum, Vesuvius, the Bay of Naples, the islands scattered across it, and the countryside stretching from Naples to Gaeta could all be seen perfectly: in short, that part of the world where volcanoes, history and poetry [sic] have left the greatest traces. […]
The soft and pure light of the moon beautified her face; the cool sea breeze stirred her hair, and nature seemed to take pleasure in adorning her. Corinne, however, was suddenly overcome by an irresistible tenderness: she contemplated these enchanting places, this intoxicating evening, Oswald who was there, but who perhaps would not always be there, and tears flowed from her eyes.” [1]
Corinne is set apart from the crowd and from Oswald, accompanied only by a maidservant and absorbed in her thoughts, her gaze becoming the true focal point of the composition. Van Bree closely follows Madame de Staël’s text, particularly in his treatment of the moonlight, which grazes the young woman’s face and is reflected in the whiteness of her dress and the milky tones of her skirt. In the background, the erupting Vesuvius casts a dark column of smoke into the air, a silent echo of her inner turmoil. The calm expanse of sea, the rosy slopes of the volcano and the pastel tones prolong this suspended atmosphere, enveloping the scene in an almost unreal light. The refinement of the costumes, with their ample fabrics, diadems and jewels, together with the charming detail of the parasol held by the maidservant, introduces an exotic touch. Highlights of gold enhance the sumptuousness of the scene, making the surface shimmer with the changing light.
At this time, the figure of Corinne enjoyed considerable popularity, offering a new image of the female artist: at once poet, musician and independent creative spirit, while also evoking Germaine de Staël herself. Shortly after the publication of the novel, Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun portrayed the writer in the guise of Corinne at Cape Misenum, holding a lyre (Geneva, Musée d’art et d’histoire, inv. 1841-0003). François Gérard likewise produced a Corinne at Cape Misenum for Prince Augustus of Prussia and Juliette Récamier, both close to Madame de Staël. He depicts Corinne with her lyre, singing before the peasants and Oswald, in a heavily darkened landscape in which the characters’ anxious expressions heighten the dramatic tension.
Van Bree’s heroine, by contrast, appears in a more intimate vision: no longer a musician captivating her audience, but a poet withdrawn from the world and absorbed in her reflections. The book bearing her name thus becomes a discreet celebration of her literary genius. In a finely executed drawing, rich in detail, van Bree offers us, with poignant tenderness, one of the most evocative episodes of the Romantic imagination.
D.G.
