RKD STUDIES

Talented artists meet. If this maxim is not new, it is consoling for it rules out any idea of plagiarism.¹

The principles of imitation and emulation resulted in a formalism that, as is generally known, would lead to contestations by several generations of more progressive artists.² Compared to painting, however, sculpture would remain highly conservative until the late 19th century, because of its material nature and its technical constraints. Octave Maus (1856-1919) would refer to it as the ‘marble sleep’.³ Indeed, the impact of romanticism or realism was less profound than in other artistic disciplines. The formalism that dominated the second and third quarter of the century, which is often labelled as ‘academicism’ (referring to the role played by art schools in the dissemination of aesthetics), led to a certain uniformity in sculpture production which, at its extreme, made authorship interchangeable.⁴ A sculpture known as L’Amour Captif (Love’s Captive or Cupid Captive) [23-24] will be used to illustrate this.

Cupid Captive was presented at the Brussels National Exhibition for Fine Arts in 1845. It was signed by the previously mentioned Belgian artist, Charles-Auguste Fraikin, only 28 years old at the time. The sculpture shows a light-hearted scene with Venus lifting up Cupid. Its composition, inspired by Jean-Joseph Foucou’s (1739–1815) Bacchante and Young Faun [25], expresses a strong movement forward similar to the effect obtained by Gian Lorenzo Bernini (1598-1680) and Henri-Joseph Rutxhiel (1775-1837) in Apollo and Daphne (1622–1625) [26] and Zephyr capturing Psyche (1814) [27] respectively. As soon as Cupid Captive went on public display, the work appealed to the Belgian royal family and was purchased by the state for the collections of the Royal Museum of Painting and Sculpture in Brussels. Grand Duchess of Saxe-Weimar Eisenach Maria Pavlovna (1786-1859), sister of Tsar Nicholas I of Russia (1796-1855), in turn ordered a second, slightly modified version for the collections of the Hermitage. Fraikin always maintained that these were the only two versions that left his studio.⁵ Nevertheless, numerous other bronze and marble editions appeared on the art market. If these were not produced under Fraikin’s supervision or with his approval, then who made them? 

Edmond Marchal, the sculptor’s biographer, provides us with two remarkable anecdotes. The first is about an experience Fraikin had when he visited Paris (the year is not specified). While strolling along the stylish rue de la Paix, Fraikin happened to notice one of his designs in the showcase of a store that sold bronze statuettes. Without revealing his identity, he enquired about the piece, and was told that the author was a certain Monsieur Quesnel, who was the son of the owner. A lawsuit would have been a reasonable next step for the Belgian, but this was avoided by a common agreement. One of the clauses allowed Quesnel to continue editing the bronze sculpture on the condition that all new pieces would bear Fraikin’s signature.⁶ Although Marchal does not identify the bronze, we may assume that the narrative relates not to Cupid Captive, but to a work entitled Venus with Dove.⁷

These bronze editions with the Quesnel signature still circulate on the art market and can be found in museums such as the Musée du Louvre.⁸ Moreover, we know that the French workshop was not the only one to have edited that particular piece. In 1846, four statuette sellers from Liège were sentenced to pay fines of 100 francs for having illegally copied the Venus with Dove. Several vendors from Antwerp were also charged for the same reasons.⁹ Interestingly, they were not sued by Fraikin, but by a well-known print editor who would also become a famous photographer, Jules Géruzet (1817–1874). Géruzet, who was not irreproachable himself in his conduct on matters concerning copyright, apparently possessed an ‘authentic’ version of the sculpture, which he used for yet another edition. His statuettes were much more expensive than the ones produced in Liège or Antwerp.¹⁰ The legal case was about ‘authenticity’ and ‘forgery’. Nevertheless, it was clearly a commercial dispute, in which the role played by the artist was obscure.

Marchal’s second anecdote recounts an incident similar to the one in Paris, only this time it took place in Italy. In 1864, Fraikin travelled to Florence as a representative of the Belgian Royal Academy to attend the festivities in honour of the 300th anniversary of Michelangelo’s death. In a Florentine studio he came across unauthorised versions of Cupid Captive. This time, however, a sculptor named Frakan was said to be its creator. He was allegedly of German origin, very renowned, and had died a long time ago.¹¹ In other words, the studio pretended that the design was in the public domain, and that anyone was free to reproduce it. Of course, this might have been the true conviction of these Florentines. Nevertheless, the addition of a slightly changed author’s name, the fictional origins and the presumed death of the artist rather hint at a conscious cover-up of an illegal activity.¹²

Is there any existing material evidence to substantiate these accounts? Yes, indeed. Close scrutiny of art market transactions that have taken place since Fraikin’s times will reveal that many copies of his model were sold. Without being exhaustive, a few recent examples will suffice to point in this direction. During the last thirty years alone, a handful of unauthorised versions of Cupid Captive came to light: a 94 centimetre high marble copy without a signature,¹³ a 56.5 centimetre high bronze version signed Fraikins (with an ‘s’)¹⁴ and a similar version with a label that mentions, in English, ‘An old figure when purchased in Florence Italy in [followed by an illegible year]’.¹⁵ The last copy suggests that at least some pieces were sold to customers who thought they had purchased an antique piece of art.

Yet, the growth of the commercial souvenir market in the mid-19th century is certainly not the only explanation why the Cupid Captive model circulated so broadly. Versions bearing the signatures of modern-day sculptors such as Pietro Franchi (1817-1878) or studios such as the Neapolitan Bucciano workshop show that, during Fraikin’s lifetime, other casts or marbles were sold as contemporary artworks or decorative pieces.¹⁶ Pietro Franchi was a descendant of a sculptor dynasty that had been active near Carrara since the 17th century. He produced statuettes and sculptures for the art market based on his own designs, but he also made marble copies after other artists.¹⁷ At least one 89 centimetre high¹⁸ and another 107 centimetre high marble edition of Cupid Captive were carved in his studio.¹⁹ Another Franchi signed sculpture, Bacchus and Cupid [28], unscrupulously adopted the very same composition as Cupid Captive.²⁰ Only the subject matter and some sculptural details were altered. In comparison with the authentic sculptures by Fraikin, the proportions are less elegant, the physiognomies not as sharp and not as delicate.

23
Charles Auguste Fraikin,
Love’s Captive (Cupid’s Captive), 1845,
marble, 184 x 60 x 100 cm,
Royal Museums of Fine Art of Belgium, Brussels, inv. no. 1052

24
Charles Auguste Fraikin,
Love’s Captive (Cupid’s Captive), detail, 1845,
marble, 184 x 60 x 100 cm,
Royal Museums of Fine Art of Belgium, Brussels, inv. no. 1052

25
Jean-Joseph Foucou,
Bacchante and Young Faun, 1777,
marble, h 90 cm,
Musée des beaux-arts de Marseille, inv. no. S 37

26
Gian Lorenzo Bernin,
Apollo and Daphne, 1622-1625,
marble, h 243 cm,
Galleria Borghese, Rome

27
Henri-Joseph Rutxhiel,
Zephyr capturing Psyche, 1814,
marble, 162 x 141 x 60 cm,
Musée du Louvre, Paris, inv. no. LL7

28
Pietro Franchi (attr.),
Bacchus and Cupid, n.d,
marble, h 101,5 cm,
Sale New York (Sotheby’s), 20 April 2009, no. 101.