From invention to realization: three curious instances of autography in Bernini’s œuvre

147 | Malgouyres: From invention to realization doi:10.3828/sj.2011.15

The life of Gian Lorenzo Bernini is full of episodes where he displayed an equal

pride in making as in conceiving. Though it may have been a case of inverted

snobbery, he received Queen Christina in working clothes when she made an

impromptu visit to his workshop. As the royal procession was approaching, a

well-meaning person timidly suggested that Bernini should change, but he

merely answered ‘non haver abito più decoroso per ricevere una Regina che

pretende visitare un virtuoso, che quello grossolano e rozzo che era proprio di

quella virtù che tale appresso il Mondo lo rendeva’. The queen, thrilled by the

concetto, touched him with her bare hands.1 This anecdote, mingling materiality

and intellect, is a kind of allegorical sketch of the complex relationship between

sculptor and sculpture, and especially Bernini’s own. Through three examples in

French public collections, this article addresses some issues about questions of

authorship and autography.

The first case is the bust of Maria Duglioli Barberini (1599–1621, pl. 10).2 Its

history is particularly well known, though full of contradictions springing mainly

from the variety of sources (Giovanni Battista Passeri, Filippo Baldinucci and the

Barberini inventories) and from the obvious fact that the bust was lost for

decades. Jennifer Montagu shed some light on the matter and identified a marble

copy made in 1669 by Gioseppe Giorgetti, ‘copiato da uno che e nelle camere del

Sig.re Card.le Carlo de mano del caualiere Bernino’, to be put in the Duglioli chapel

in Santa Maria dell’Osservanza, Bologna.3 Then, thanks to a note from Incisa della

Rocchetta, Valentino Martinelli was able to clarify the history of the commission

and the identity of the sitter.4 He found an old Anderson picture showing the bust

around 1856 in the Sciarra collection, heirs of the greater part of the Barberini

collections. If we put aside the Baldinucci version of the story, then everything

falls into place quite simply. Urban VIII ordered a series of posthumous family

portraits from Bernini, among them his great-uncle Antonio, his uncle Francesco,

his mother Camilla Barbadoni and his niece Maria Barberini. It seems clear that

Bernini was responsible for all of them and, particularly at this early stage of his

career, it is highly unlikely that he would leave a member of his workshop to do

just as he pleased with a papal commission.

The first mention of the bust, in the 1627 inventory of Cardinal Francesco,

states ‘una statua di marmo bianco cioè testa, e busto della S.ra D. Maria Barberini

con una gabbia di filo diferro a torno a’ d.a havuta dal Cav.re Bernini’. It was so

fragile and precious as to need a wire cage as a protection, replaced later by a glass

From invention to realization: three curious instances of autography in Bernini’s œuvre

Philippe Malgouyres

148 | Sculpture Journal 20.2 [2011]

and wood case as described in 1649.5 The bust is

always referred to as by Bernini: ‘il tutto fatto dal S.r

Cavaliero Bernino’. Yet Gianbattista Passeri, in his

biography of Giuliano Finelli, related how in 1626

Bernini asked Finelli to carve it, with the stimulating

prospect of obtaining a papal audience ‘per baciar il

piede al Papa’.6 The disloyal Bernini eventually

introduced Andrea Bolgi (1606–56) to Urban VIII, and

Passeri, not a great Bernini supporter, reported at

some length on the various humiliations received by

Finelli. It seems that Bernini kept the identity of the

‘real’ author of the bust in the dark, and Finelli’s

name never appears, except in Passeri.

The more recent history of the bust is a maze still

to be unravelled. It was probably sold unofficially by

the Sciarra family, as it never appeared in the

registered sales.7 It reappeared when in 1974 it was

transferred by l’Inspection Générale des Musées to

the Louvre, as coming from l’Office des Biens Privés,

that is to say, from the works confiscated in France by

the Nazis during the war, but it never appeared on any of the many lists of that

organization.

The bust as we see it today fits with the different versions; and the fanciful

Berninian invention is well-served by the dazzling virtuoso carving of Finelli.

Maria Barberini married Tolomeo Duglioli in 1618, and died in childbirth. The

young girl is here the happy bride, lavishly adorned with pearls with a bee-shaped

clasp. The richness of the jewels, lace and embroidery produces a happy contrast

with the freshness of the skin, the innocent smile and the informal branch of

orange blossom tucked in her hair. The fact that the portrait is posthumous

reveals the richness of the Berninian concetto: opposing the promise of wealth,

rank and happiness with the fragility of human life and untimely death, through

the hyperrealism of textures and the aloofness of the face, like a dream slowly

fading, the memory of which will soon be lost for ever. Dombrovski gives credit to

Bernini for the execution of the delicate sfumato around the eyes and nose.8 Also

noteworthy is the cut of the bust, which is very innovative for this date. Finelli

probably carved the amazing lace collar and the beads, as he did Daphne’s hair in

Bernini’s Apollo and Daphne, yet no one would think of attributing the entire

piece to him.

So, if we know that during the seventeenth century the bust was considered a

work by Bernini, and we agree that the invention and some part of the execution

is by Bernini himself, what more is needed to make it a work of the master?9

Contrast this perverse refusal to accept the evidence with the quite hopeless

strivings to find some trace of the youthful but lively chisel of Gian Lorenzo in the

sculpture coming from his father’s workshop.10

The second case is the bust of Louis XIV (fig. 1). When, in 1665, the Sun King

managed to drag the ageing sculptor from his many Roman engagements, Bernini

1. Gian Lorenzo Bernini and Giulio Cartari, Louis XIV, 1665, marble, 105 * 95.5 * 46.5 cm. Musée National du Château, Versailles.(photo: RMN (Château de Versailles)/Gérard Blot)

149 | Malgouyres: From invention to realization

had not produced a portrait for a number of years.

Ignoring papal patronage, we have to look back

fifteen years to the bust of Francesco d’Este. In this

context, Bernini’s choice of companions may be

revealing. Mattia de’Rossi is an obvious choice in the

context of an architectural project; so is Paolo

Valentino, one of Bernini’s younger children, who had

to be provided for. But we should raise an eyebrow at

the presence of Giulio Cartari, ‘Giulio del Bernini’, for

years his faithful practitioner, unless the master

expected to receive some impromptu commission in

the field of sculpture. It is noteworthy that poor

Giulio is not often seen at Court or in the retinue of

the sculptor. Strangely, we really do not know how

and when the idea of the bust started. The first

inkling is in a letter from de’Rossi to Pietro Filippo

Bernini on 6 June. The king’s brother had asked

Bernini whether he would make the portrait ‘au cas

où il en aurait le temps’.11 During this visit to Saint-

Germain, Paolo and de’Rossi are present, but not

Cartari. On 20 June the request is formalized.12 The

sittings start; these episodes are very well known thanks to Chantelou. Domenico

Bernini mentions a significant detail, the making of two busts at the same time, a

response to the fear of finding defects in the marble during work. This may look

like a story born from the parallel of the two Scipione Borghese busts, but there is

no reason to doubt it.13 Giulio Cartari was in charge. Chantelou wrote of two

blocks,14 de’Rossi wrote of three15 and so did Bernini himself to Cardinal Decio

Azzolino.16 There is a strange replica, with variations, of the royal portrait in the

Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte (fig. 2). It is a kind of narrow adaptation, and the lace

collar was clearly updated to mid-1670s fashion, as in the Coysevox portrait bust

of 1679.17 The cartilaginous aspect of the drapery and the excessive chiaroscuro are

quite like Cartari. Was it the second bust, roughed out by Cartari and finished

years later? Anyway, it is worth citing as rare evidence of the fortune of the bust in

France, admired but without offspring.18 As Jean-Marie Pérouse de Montclos

remarked, the history of this replica is still to be written.19 Whatever its status, it is

hardly credible that the huge bust of Louis XIV was done without the significant

participation of Giulio Cartari, and Domenico Bernini explicitly mentions it.20 In

this case, however, we would never dream, as we do with the Maria Barberini bust,

of associating anyone other than Bernini with the genesis of this masterpiece.

Incidentally, among the drawings from the office of Robert de Cotte, a sketch of a

bust of Diana bears the annotation ‘Diane sans piédouche / moderne du chevalier

Bernin / bonne’. Its composition is quite similar to the bust by Giulio Cartari of

Queen Christina of Sweden at La Granja.21

The third case is the relief The Christ Child playing with the Instruments of the

Passion (fig. 3).22 Chantelou’s Journal is a rich source for the making of the king’s

portrait, and there is nothing comparable for any other major seventeenth-

2. After Gian Lorenzo Bernini, Louis XIV, 1665–90?, marble. Vaux le Vicomte.(photo: Georges Fessy)


century artist that gives such insight into working methods. But if the royal bust

elicited a huge range of comments, the other sculpture mentioned in the Journal

is hardly discussed at all, although it was originally displayed as a kind of pendant

to the king’s bust. In spite of the luxury of first-hand details about its conception

and realization, the relief is barely mentioned.23 This lack of interest, slightly

tinged with disgust on the French side because of its devotional subject, is as old

as the sculpture. Marin Cureau de la Chambre, the first biographer of the artist,

composed an ‘Eloge du Cavalier Bernin’ just after his death, published in Le

Journal des Savants, but did not mention the relief.24 At the time, the relief was

already in store, where it remained through the Revolution, Empire and

Restoration, as may be seen in the 1695, 1707,25 1722 and 1824 inventories. Its

author was clean forgotten in the latter – ‘Un ange jouant avec les instruments de

la Passion. Inconnu’ – and only recognized fifty years later by Louis Courajod:

On remarque dans la salle de la cheminée de Bruges un petit bas-relief

ovale de travail italien, d’un faire assez pauvre, datant évidemment du

XVIIe siècle et représentant l’Enfant Jésus jouant avec le clou qui doit lui

percer la main. Il n’a jamais été porté au catalogue du musée, quoiqu’il

doive être arrivé au Louvre depuis assez longtemps.26

Maurizio Fagiolo Dell’Arco was probably the only scholar to mention the role of

Bernini.27 In the recent catalogue of Louvre sculpture it is attributed to Paolo

Valentino, with this precise addendum ‘le cadre [. . .] a été dessiné par Gianlorenzo

Bernini’, for which there is no evidence.28

The relief suffered mainly from the original sin of Bernini, who was eager to

prove his son’s ability as a sculptor. A sculptor whose career ended with his

father’s death offers an enigma that invites one to examine this attribution, and

Chantelou gives plenty of matter for thought. The relief is mentioned, officially

associated with the name of Paolo in the Court circle, between 24 July and

7 August. The source is not the Journal itself but two letters from Mattia de’Rossi

to Pietro Filippo Bernini in Rome.29 These letters, a kind of official report, were

probably meant to be read publicly, and the role of Paolo is duly emphasized:

Le Roi s’enquit pour sa part de ce que Paolo faisait à Paris. L’abbé Butti

répondit qu’il sculptait un petit putto en marbre, grandeur nature,

représentant l’Enfant Jésus accoudé à un coffret où sont tous les

instruments de la Passion. L’Enfant tient de la main droite un clou et

l’essaie sur la paume de sa main gauche. [. . .] Paolo y travaille à présent

avec entrain et enthousiasme pour l’achever rapidement et le montrer à la

Reine.

And then, on 7 August, ‘Paolo continue de travailler à son Enfant Jésus, qui prend

bien forme et contente tous ceux qui l’examinent’.

Meanwhile, as early as 28 July, Bernini himself worked on the relief quite

extensively. A large family is a mixed blessing, and Bernini did not find much help

there for his multifarious tasks, except from his brother Luigi and his younger

son, Paolo. The elderly father, anxious to go back to Rome, and to provide for his

apparently far-from-gifted son, might have seen the Parisian trip as an

opportunity to pave the way for a future career for his offspring in France.

Chantelou, consciously or not, is explicit about the relief: the conception and a


great part of the realization were by Bernini himself, as the sculpture confirms.

The work is alluded to ten times in the Journal, always as the ‘Petit Christ du signor

Paolo’, but only once is Paolo actually said to work at it. On the other hand,

Chantelou constantly caught the father red-handed.30 On 28 July, ‘au matin, j’ai

trouvé le Cavalier travaillant au bas-relief du petit Christ’. On 1 August:

il est allé ensuite donné quelques coups au bas-relief du signor Paolo, et

l’étant allé voir travailler, il m’a dit qu’il tâcherait de faire voir que le voile

que le petit Christ tient devant soi est un de ceux qui servaient à la Vierge;

m’a demandé mon sentiment de la pensée qu’il a eue de faire méditer

Notre-Seigneur sur ce clou, qu’il a trouvé avec les outils de saint Joseph. Je

lui dit qu’elle était belle et dévote.

Five days later Colbert expressed his admiration – ‘Le Cavalier a dit que c’était la

pensée qui s’en pouvait dire belle’ – praising the concetto he had created. The only

mention of Paolo carving is on 11 August. Bernini seems to work at it mostly on

Sundays – so as to not be disturbed, or so as not to be caught in the act? In

September this was the case on three Sundays when Chantelou happened to visit

the workshop. On 6 September, ‘Sur cela, il [. . .] s’est mis à donner quelques coups

au linge du petit Christ du signor Paolo [. . .]’; on the 20th, ‘Je suis allé au matin

chez le Cavalier et l’ai trouvé travaillant au petit jésus du signor Paolo. Il m’a dit

qu’il y donnait quelques caresses, puisque c’était pour la Reine.’ On 27 September,

‘étant allé voir le cavalier, l’on m’a dit qu’il avait défendu que personne n’entrât. Je

l’ai trouvé travaillant aux cheveux du petit Christ du signor Paolo. Il m’a dit qu’il y

donnait quelques caresses pour l’amour de la Reine.’ I do not think it is

3. Gian Lorenzo Bernini and Paolo Valentino Bernini, The Christ Child playing with the Instruments of the Passion, marble, 63 * 80 * 17 cm. Sculpture Department, Louvre, Paris.(photo: RMN/Stéphane Maréchalle)


overinterpreting the case to say that Bernini was

cautious: he forbade people to come in, and needed

to justify himself, invoking ‘l’amour de la Reine’

though minimizing his role to ‘quelques coups,

quelques caresses’. It is, then, very likely that Paolo

merely added a few chisel strokes, as probably did the

discreet Giulio. The care taken by Bernini senior over

the relief’s success also expressed itself in his concern

over its display: first its framing,31 and then its setting

when displayed in the Queen Mother apartment.32

Chantelou went with Sébastien Bourdon ‘au Louvre

l’y [Le Bernin] trouver, y étant allé dessiner un

piédestal pour le petit Christ du signor Paolo’.

Bernini claimed the conception of the sculpture

entirely. On 1 August, as he was working on the piece,

he explained to Chantelou that he was striving to

show that the drapery was the Virgin’s veil, and asked

the courtier’s opinion of the idea of the nail found

among St Joseph’s tools. The same thing happened

when Colbert came: ‘M. Colbert a vu après l’ouvrage

du signor Paolo, lequel il a trouvé fort beau. Le

Cavalier a dit que c’était la pensée qui s’en pouvait

dire belle.’33 The thought was his, and was perfectly in

line with the spirituality of his later years. As the

sources just quoted indicate, and as direct

observation of the relief confirms, there is a complete

correspondence in the treatment of hair, eyes and

certain flesh passages with the Louis XIV bust (figs 4,

5). It has to be included without reservation in the

Bernini catalogue, like any other work with studio

intervention. The unconscious admission of guilt by the sculptor in choosing this

subject, a helpless child confronted by his father’s tools, emphasizes the personal

involvement. It is an important addition because Bernini planned it without

commission, as with others of his intimate devotional images, such as the

Allegory with the Bleeding Redeemer (c. 1670) or the Christ (1678) given to Christina

of Sweden. It was a very elaborate and serious gift to the young queen, the result

of personal meditation, and perhaps a source of satisfaction to the artist during

his frustrating Parisian stay.

Worsdale had an intuition that there existed some connection between the

bust and the relief in the sculptor’s mind.34 This is not the place to discuss the

relation between the so-called ‘bel composto’ and the imagines agentes of the art

of memory, but suffice it to say that the tension created by the juxtaposition of

apparently unrelated objects manifests an idea not illustrated by the objects

individually. Here, the bust was shown at the side of the relief. It was in itself an

‘acting image’ with a precise purpose: to ‘form’ a future prince of France in the

resemblance of the Christ-child. When taking leave of the queen, the cavaliere said

4. Gian Lorenzo Bernini, Louis XIV (detail of fig. 1).(photo: RMN (Château de Versailles)/Gérard Blot)

5. Gian Lorenzo Bernini,The Christ Child (detail of fig. 3).(photo: Philippe Malgouyres)


to Madame de Montausier and the Maréchale de la Mothe35 that ‘son fils avait fait

un ouvrage que la Reine pouvait considérer souvent, et pour la pensée dévote et

pour représenter à son imagination un bel objet d’un enfant’. Two weeks before,

the king had expressed his delight and surprise:

disant qu’il ne se pouvait rien voir de plus beau, quoique ce fut l’ouvrage

d’un garçon de dix-huit ans. Le Cavalier s’étant approché a dit qu’il était

destiné à la Reine, et qu’il importe que les femmes, pendant leur grossesse,

voient des objets nobles et agréables; qu’il a un de ses enfants qui

ressemble à celui d’un tableau qui est dans la chambre de sa femme, et

qu’elle regardait souvent pendant sa grossesse. Le Roi a pris la parole et a

dit que M. le Dauphin ressemblait à l’enfant d’une Vierge qui était dans la

chambre de la Reine à Fontainebleau.36

So Bernini, dragged from Rome by the arrogance of the king of France who had

humiliated Alexander VII beyond refusal, left this small piece of advice and,

maybe, made the admonition less conspicuous as coming from a mere boy, his

son. Pendant to the superb and haughty portrait of this new Alexander, Bernini

created an image of a lost child, naked, on the ground, confronting with awe his

future of suffering and death. The true portrait of the real sovereign is there, a

message that the young king was unlikely to catch. The ‘Roi très chrétien’ wanted

to posture as a Constantine, but could not take as a model the son of the carpenter

from Nazareth.

1 D. Bernini, Vita del Cavaliere Gio. Lorenzo Bernino, Roma, Rocco Bernabò, 1713, p. 81; the episode is also related in F. Baldinucci, Vita di Gian Lorenzo Bernini / scritta da Filippo Baldinucci, ed. S. S. Ludovici, Milan, Ed. del Milione, 1948, pp. 142–43.

2 Sculpture Department, Louvre, Paris, inv. 1974.1.

3 It was later transferred to the Certosa where Montagu found it; J. Montagu, ‘Antonio and Gioseppe Giorgetti: sculptors to Cardinal Francesco Barberini’, Art Bulletin, 52/3, 1970, pp. 290–91, and n. 101.

4 V. Martinelli, ‘il Busto originale di Maria Barberini, nipote di Urbano VIII, di Gian Lorenzo Bernini e Giuliano Finelli’, Antichità Viva, 26/3, 1987, pp. 27–36. Previous literature about the relationship between the Bologna bust of Maria Barberini and the portrait of Lucrezia Barberini, Duchess of Modena, described by Baldinucci and others, is plentiful and complex. It is likely that the mention by Baldinucci of Lucrezia is just a slip of the pen for Maria, dead young and long ago.

5 ‘tabernacolo di noce con li vetri chiari da tre faccie p. coprire la testa della Sig.ra maria Barberini’ and ‘Una testa e busto d’una donna, credesi esser la sorella di S. Em.za vestita con zimarra con un collare a lattuca, con merletti traforati, con un fiore di merangoli, un vezzo di perle

pendenti allorecchie, con due perle il tutto fatto di marmo fino dal S.r Cavaliero Bernino, alta d.a testa e busto palmi due e mezzo con un tel-aro, che sera detta testa di noce con tre vetri grandi, uno de quali e mezzo rotto, con quattro pomi di sopra di legno, con quattro appi perciasched-uno pomo tutte dorate, con un pied-estallo che sostiene detta testa, e telaro fato di noce, con arme di casa Barberina parte intagliato, alto con il telaro p.mi otto’; M. Lavin, Seventeenth Century Barberini Documents and Inventories of Art, New York, New York University Press, 1975, pp. 77, 102 and 256.

6 G. Passeri, Vite de’ pittori, scul-tori, ed architetti che anno lavorato in Roma Morti dal 1641. Fino al 1673, Rome, Settari, 1772, p. 257.

7 For the sale see D. Dombrowski, Giuliano Finelli. Bildhauer zwischen Neapel und Rom, Frankfurt am Main, Peter Lang, 1997, pp. 309–610, and fig. 51.

8 Ibid., p. 40.9 It is still catalogued as by

Giuliano Finelli directed by Bernini in the summary catalogue of the Louvre; G. Bresc-Bautier (ed.), Les sculptures européennes du musée du Louvre, Paris, Somogy, 2006, p. 149. Since the conference in 2008, it has been published as Gian Lorenzo Bernini and Giuliano Finelli, with some story about its ‘rediscovery’; G. Bresc-Bautier, in A. Bacchi, T. Montanari, B. Paolozzi Strozzi and

D. Zikos (eds), I marmi vivi: Bernini e la nascita del ritratto barocco (exh. cat.), Museo Nazionale del Bargello, Florence, 2009, no. 9, pp. 242–45.

10 P. Malgouyres, ‘Pietro Bernini (1526–1629) by Hans-Ulrich Kessler’, review, Burlington, 149/1252, 2007, pp. 495–96.

11 P. Fréart de Chantelou, Journal de voyage du cavalier Bernin en France, ed. M. Stanic, Paris, Macula, 2001, p. 384.

12 Official request 20 June, letter dated 26 June 1665; ibid. p. 387.

13 ‘Mà nel medesimo tempo, ch’ei tirava avanti questo Ritratto, dubi-tando che il Marmo nello scuoprisi maggiormente, non venisse a mos-trar qualche vena, ò difetto, per cui convenuto gli fosse ricominciarne uno nuovo, come un’altra volta glie ra succeduto, diede ordine a Giulio Cartarè suo allievo che ne incominci-asse lo sbozzo in altro Marmo, quale mancando il primo, haverebbe egli poi ridotto a perfezzione. Mà fortu-nato fu quel sasso, che non ammesse in sè macchia alcuna, e potè adequa-mente ricevere la grand’Impronta di così riverito Monarca. Onde hebbe agio il Cavaliere di condurla a fine, nel chef are si segnalò medesimam-ente il sopra nominato Giulio Cartarè con assistenza continua al suo Maestro’; Bernini, as at note 1, pp. 135–36.

14 Tuesday 30 June: ‘Le dernier juin, l’on lui a apporté dans la salle du

Conseil du Louvre, qui lui a été donné pour travailler à son buste, deux pièces de marbre: l’une de Bistel, l’autre de Guérin, qui se trouvent assez belles’; Chantelou, as at note 11, pp. 65–66. For Philippe de Buyster, ‘Bistel’, see S. Bandera Bistoletti, ‘Letture di testi berniniani: qualche scoperta e nuova osservazioni. Dal Journal di Chantelou e dai documenti della bibliothèque nationale di Parigi’, Paragone, 429, 1985, pp. 43–76,

15 A letter from Mattia de’Rossi to Pietro Filippo Bernini, 10 July 1665, confirms it: ‘Le Cavalier a commencé le portrait en marbre; il a essayé trois blocs sans en trouver un seul qui lui convienne; finalement, il se servira du moins mauvais car il y a fort peu de marbres à Paris, et ceux qui s’y trouvent ne sont point appropriés pour faire des portraits’; Chantelou, as at note 11, p. 390. Since the confer-ence see also A.-L. Desmas, ‘Gian Lorenzo Bernini’s bust of Louis xIV: a letter from Charles Perrault to Jean-Baptiste Colbert’, Getty Research Journal, 1, 2009, pp. 169–78.

16 A letter from Bernini to Cardinal Decio Azzolino, 22 July 1665, mentions three blocks: ‘Io ho comin-ciato il suo ritratto in marmo, e di tre pezzi che ho cominciati non so se ne riuscerà nessuno a proposito, perché, come lei sa, per fare ritratti vogliono essere marmi molto perfetti, e qua non ce n’è nemmeno delli hordinarii’. Published by Montanari, who identi-fied the recipient; T. Montanari,


‘Bernini e Cristina di Svezia, alle orig-ini della storiografia berniniana’, in A. Angelini (ed.), Gian Lorenzo Bernini e i Chigi tra Roma e Siena, Cinisello Balsamo (Milan), Pizzi, 1998, pp. 376–79.

17 Marble bust, Versailles, Musée national du château (inv. MR 2469).

18 A marble bust bought in 1830 as by Bernini from the Comtesse Du Manoir displays a superficial allusion to it. Its Genoese character was proba-bly the reason for its attribution to Pierre Puget; S. Hoog, Musée National du Château de Versailles. Les Sculptures. I. Le Musée, Paris, Réunion des Musées Nationaux, 1993, p. 238, ill.

19 J. M. Pérouse de Montclos, Vaux-le-Vicomte, Paris, Scala, 1997, p. 39.

20 ‘benche la sua grave età lo rendesse omai inabile a somiglianti lavori per la debbolezza della vista, e del polso, tuttavia s’offeriva d’applicarvisi tutto, assicurato nella presenza di lui, che haverebbe resi

più vigorosi i suoi sentimenti’; Bernini, as at note 1, p. 132.

21 Fr. Fossier, Les dessins du fonds Robert de Cotte de la Bibliothèque nationale de France. Architecture et décor, Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale de France, 1997, 17, p. 607.

22 Marble (63 * 80 * 17cm); Paris, Louvre, Sculpture Department (inv. MR 2733); W. L. Hildburgh, ‘A signed marble cupid perhaps by Paolo Bernini Valentino’, Burlington, 81, 1942, pp. 282–83; H. Tratz, ‘Werstatt und Arbeitsweise Berninis’, Römisches Jahrbuch für Kunstgeschichte, 23–24, 1988, pp. 420–21; R. Wittkower, Bernini: lo scultore del barocco romano (trans. S. d’Amico), Milan, Electa, 1990, p. 288; A. Bacchi (ed.), Scultura del ‘600 a Roma, Milan, Longanesi, 1996, fig. 194; V. Martinelli, ‘La “Imago Christi” secondo Bernini. Costanti e varianti tipologiche e formali’, in L’Ultimo Bernini, 1665–1680 Nuovi argomenti, documenti e immagini, ed. V. Martinelli, Rome, Quasar,

1996, pp. 190, n. 33, 222, fig. 47; M. Fagiolo dell’Arco, L’Immagine al potere. Vita di Giovan Lorenzo Bernini, Rome, Laterza, 2001, p. 328; M. Fagiolo dell’Arco, Berniniana. Novità sul regista del Barocco, Milan, Skira, 2002, pp. 139 and 144, n. 9.

23 The first study was done by M. Worsdale, ‘Le Bernin et la France. Un « tableau de marbre » et les com-positions de gravures de dévotion’, Revue de l’Art, 61, 1983, pp. 61–72, fig. 2.

24 M. Cureau de la Chambre, Journal des savants, 1681, p. 55.

25 ‘Idem [Versailles, Magazin]. Un bas-relief de marbre blanc en ovalle de vingt deux pouces de haut sur deux pieds quatre pouces de large, représentant un enfant couvert d’une draperie et couché sur une boëte, ten-ant un cloud dans ses deux mains; fait par le fils du Bernin et posé dans une bordure dorée, sur un pied d’ouche quarré’. Paris, Archives Nationales, O1 1977B, f°. 112r. pp. 701–02.

26 L. Courajod, Bulletin des Antiquaires, 1876, pp. 7–8; P. Vitry (ed.), Catalogue des sculptures du Moyen-Age, de la Renaissance et des temps modernes. Musée National du Louvre, Paris, Musées Nationaux, 1922, II, no. 1547.

27 M. Fagiolo dell’Arco, ‘Valentino Martinelli, Gian Lorenzo Bernini e la sua cerchia’, Studi e contributi (1950–1990), Storia dell’arte, 97, 1999, p. 372.

28 Bresc-Bautier, as at note 9, p. 82.29 Letters from Mattia de’Rossi to

Pietro Filippo Bernini, 24 July and 7 August 1665; Chantelou, as at note 11, pp. 392–93.

30 Chantelou, as at note 11, pp. 93, 100, 157, 192, 206.

31 Ibid., pp. 198, 219, 255.32 Ibid., pp. 255–57.33 5 August; ibid., p. 106.34 Worsdale, as at note 23, p. 64.35 Chantelou, as at note 11, p. 274.36 Ibid, p. 224.

From invention to realization: three curious instances of autography in Bernini’s œuvre

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