BERNADINE BRÖCKER
A Royal Sèvres Collection at (Nearly) Its Best

The Royal Collection's exhibition on French porcelain at the Queen’s Gallery closed on Sunday, October 11th, 2009. From the crown’s three-volume catalogue of French porcelain, the chosen pieces were mainly King George IV’s extravagant acquisitions of Sèvres after the French Revolution brought them to the market. This conjecture of pieces "is considered to be the finest assemblage in the world."
Entering the exhibition, a witty juxtaposition of a curious Vincennes "Sunflower Clock" from c.1752 and an 1812 Mounted Potpourri vase before a portrait of George IV by Sir William Beechey introduced viewers to the story of Sèvres in England. This circular setup permitted the visitor to dwell on the specifics of soft- versus hard-paste porcelain, compare the Neoclassical vase of stunning royal blue ground and gilding to the flowery soft-paste and Rococo roots seen in the clock’s making; and simultaneously appreciate two watercolours by Charles Wilde of Carlton House interiors portraying Sèvres specimens decorating their mantelpieces, plinths, and furniture.
In the main room, the lights dimmed to small spotlights shining to the glittering pieces within the cases, slightly reminiscent of candlelight employed in the 19th century. The symmetrical display boasts the crown’s pairs and garnitures; while its orderliness contrasted with the lively details characteristic of Sèvres painting and gilding. Unfortunately, the glass was interspaced with metal bars before some of the pieces, and viewers had to writhe around these to get a closer look. The first case displayed unique forms of potpourri, vases, and their covers; of which the most spectacular was à vaisseau: a boat-shaped potpourri from 1758 of two ground colours, delightful decorations including a fleur-de-lis printed sail, and a historical reference to Madame Pompadour’s possessions at Versailles. Beyond, a case of early Vincennes/Sevres pieces referenced Meissen and Chinese precedents. Of these a groundless gilded chinoiserie sculpture of Two Figures Flanking a Basket accentuated the new technical prowess of white soft-paste creations in 1752.
Eight cases embedded in the walls characterized different aspects of Sèvres; from ground colours to forms to gilding techniques to bejewelling, from the difference between characteristic bleu céleste and little-known petit-verd, adding trivia about burnishers being mainly female, the heraldic significance of symbols, to the a giraffe that visited Paris and inspired teacup illustrations.
The 1783-1793 Louis XVI dinner and dessert service, unrivalled in Sèvres history, exponentially heightens the show’s value. In pristine condition and arranged centripetally at eye level, it resembled a tiered cake of delicacy as the finest service made by the craftsmen and women. However, another key object in the history of Sèvres manufactory and the King’s eye for quality stood on a frail wooden platform. The Table des Grands Capitaines, a masterful table commissioned by Napoleon after the Sèvres factory survived the French Revolution is a masterful oeuvre of craftsmanship. Visitors overlooked this technical masterpiece, painted with cameos of Grand Commanders, distracted by eccentric black ground pieces and jewelled cups and saucers lit in the cases adjacent to it.
My critique falls on the layout of this exhibition versus its content. While connoisseurs can always appreciate a showing of this calibre, and the curatorial team chose beauties for both the show and the display in the rest of the Buckingham galleries, pieces struggled for attention in cramped spaces despite the symmetry of their display. An important asset such as the Garniture of Three Vases from 1779, shown complete for the first time since the Revolution with Her Majesty's purchase of the last piece in 2004, was not exposed clearly either.
When compared to the spacious and mirrored cases for rival Wallace Collection Sèvres porcelain and the educational display of French porcelain at the V&A Ceramics gallery, this royal gallery’s organization did not give a manufacture such as porcelain the needed visual aid to be understood as the white gold it was. While the study room and catalogue emphasized the craftsmanship of the painting and gilding, the pieces stood on shelves so low that visitors had to bow down to view details on the rounded surfaces. Furthermore the beauty of the maker's mark and painter's signatures was only mentioned in the study room, which other places show visually e.g. employing glass shelves that expose the underside of pieces.
The luxurious exhibition markets great esteem for the British collection, especially in dialogue with the royal jewels and other invaluable artefacts in the Queen’s gallery. The pieces are truly unrivalled. However, the lack of focus on main characters loses the narrative thread central to this collection’s high regard.