a tribute to simon gillespie by dr. jeffrey lant master marketer and also collector of fine art nov...

A tribute to Simon Gillespie by Dr. Jeffrey Lant master marketer and also collector of fine art Nov 21, 2012

Preface / Introduction

This is article which continues the series of restored pictures which will be coming to Cambridgeand its new home at Dr. Jeffrey Lant.

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Table of Contents

1. What a collector lives for... a steal... and of an emperor who insisted upon apricot dumplings inseason and out... a tale. 2. 'I may know nothing about art..." a fine portrait of the Uncle of Europe, Edward VII, by Heinrichvon Angeli, 1840-1925, the best connected artist in the world. 3. Charles VII, Holy Roman Emperor 1742-1745. A must-have imperial image found by aconnoisseur, restored by a master, shared with you in its full majesty.

What a collector lives for... a steal... and of an emperor whoinsisted upon apricot dumplings in season and out... a tale. by Dr. Jeffrey Lant

Author's program note. Quick! What do you know about the great Magyar nation of Hungary, a keyelement in the European equation for two thousand years? Exactly. Unless you are Hungarianyourself, you know little, if anything, about the matter... and that's why you, if you had the chance,would have walked past this gem... and missed a rare occasion to add its splendor and verve,radiating the e'clat that is so very Hungarian, to your collection.

For make no mistake about it, this is a picture of consequence... not least because it is, in microcosm,an apt representation of its nation, being bold, supercilious, absolutely sure of itself with anarrogance and hauteur that is quintessentially Hungarian (and got the nation into such a lot of troubleand grief, even unto its complete suppression and subjugation).

Look carefully and consider what you see, for this is how a king should look ... and be.

Now add the musical accompaniment of the Rakoczi march. It's the very thing to go along with andamplify this article. Find it in any search engine. Listen to the sound of this blood stirring music(composer unknown). You can see the crack troops of the kingdom on parade; the petted darlings,dazzling in their designed-to-impress uniforms and valorous decorations.

We look! We admire! We fall victim to a charm that defines the nation! This is the Hungary ofSeptember 28, 1830, the very day the young man portrayed, His Imperial Majesty Ferdinand I,already an emperor, was crowned King of Hungary as King Ferdinand V, and thus one of the keyfactors influencing every European nation and their millions of inhabitants. In short, this wasHistory!

And, since History is the supreme ironist, you may be sure that what you see is most assuredly notwhat you get. See for yourself...

The facts.

People who enjoy the undeniable delights of condescending to others can never afford to forget thatto condescend with credibility you must win, constantly, consistently, completely. To condescendwithout victory is to open yourself to ridicule... snide remarks... and condescension by others moresuccessful than you. Thus, while Hungary had been a great nation in the days of Attila the Hun (434A.D.) since then Victory had been fickle, elusive... and so it found itself in 1830 one of a vastnumber of dukedoms, principalities and other kingdoms in unhappy and restless thrall to God's goodservant, the emperor of Austria, reigning supreme and condescending to all from Vienna.

This galling fact roiled every loyal Hungarian, for bending the knee to anyone was bitter indeed tothe schemers of Budapest. But to bend the knee to the man who called himself Ferdinand V was themost bitter of all.

For these are the attributes and features that distinguished this imperial majesty... epilepsy,hydrocephalus, neurological problems, speech impediment, and more. Such was the fruit of theunion between his consanguineous parents the Emperor Francis II and his double first cousin MariaTheresa, princess of Naples and Sicily.

His ability to produce an heir, non existent. His ability to reign, impossible. His ability to make thecrucial decisions inherent in his weighty and powerful position... episodic, unpredictable. The onlyadamant decision he ever made related to... dumplings. Told by his chef that he could not have an

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apricot dumpling because apricots were not in season, he responded with uncharacteristicdecisiveness, "I'm the Emperor, and I want dumplings!" And so in this matter at least he wasgratified.

Otherwise for the 13 long years of his reign he was a negative factor, a void at the center of aturbulent Europe, marching to the Revolutions of 1848, when at last His Imperial and ApostolicMajesty was gently deposed, to be succeeded by his nephew Franz Joseph, who allowed his uncle tolive in suitable splendor in Prague's Hradcany Castle, where perhaps he found dumplings a plentyand entirely to his taste. The record does not say.

His portrait as King of Hungary, 1830.

The picture you see above, so grand, so designedly inaccurate was left behind... only to turn up asLot 125 at Dorotheum's Austrian auction 3 April, 2012. You can see its deplorable "before" state,the state in which I first saw this picture and knew I had to have it. You see, a true collector reliesupon a practiced mixture of fact, hunch, visual impact and affection to evaluate a picture and makedecisions which may well cost a small fortune, or more. It is a process in which the skills of sleuths,specialists, historians and lovers are uniquely mixed and which, luck willing, produces connoisseurswith bravado and nerves of steel. I am such a person, and I have been liberally helped along the wayby conservator par excellence, Simon Gillespie of Cleveland Street, London. He is the man who hashelped me acquire and return to their pristine perfection over three dozen such pictures. I honor andtrust him accordingly.

What Simon saw.

When the image was first put in front of him it seemed destined to be rejected as dull and flatlypainted. Close inspection revealed that the unknown artist had applied a thick oil paint which overtime had left deep interstices that collected considerable dirt and old varnish which had itselfdiscolored. The resulting effect was dismal, a dull surface, dirty, disfigured.

Here is where experience and a trained eye become absolutely essential. Connoisseurs and theirconservators must learn to see that which is below the surface, to see the dazzling promise in theseemingly hopeless. Here Simon Gillespie excels.

After extensive analysis, he concluded the work was worth acquiring, though there was still riskinvolved; there always is. Still, Simon concluded that at the end of the day the picture would bemagnificent as the Elect of God should always be. On this basis I acquired the work at auction,though other discerning eyes did succeed in increasing the price. Still, I did not overpay, always adanger when one's heart is involved.

In short order, Simon had the picture, shipped with their usual speed and careful packing byDorotheum. As the crate was opened, always a moment of concern and nervous anticipation aboutwhat one would find within, the picture emerged, forlorn, dirty, distressed, but not disheartened. Forthis fortunate image had had the good fortune to become distressed in ways that could be dealtwith... so long as it had an empathetic purchaser... and that I most assuredly was.

In Cambridge, in sympathetic hands.

Now this object of royal grandeur, with its uniquely opulent frame, has come to its new home whereit will be properly handled, regarded, and maintained. I see it before me now, touched by the divinitythat must hedge a real monarch. Yet it would scarcely be a true Hungarian tale without its mysteriesstill to be revealed. Who painted his majesty and why did he leave no clue? Who composed theRakoczi march? And why, too, did its composer demur and remain incognito despite composing awork so excellent the fastidious Abbe Lizst would honor it at his piano? Again, we do not know.And, finally, did Ferdinand I and V get the apricots he coveted for his dumplings? All these are left




to discover.

However, one thing is clear. The work is imperial indeed, made perfect again by the scrupulous careof Simon Gillespie. And so Ferdinand, sore troubled and afflicted in life, goes confidently into theages to come, looking every inch as he should, a king, and a King of Hungary at that.




'I may know nothing about art..." a fine portrait of the Uncleof Europe, Edward VII, by Heinrich von Angeli, 1840-1925,the best connected artist in the world. by Dr. Jeffrey Lant.

Author's program note. One day in 1901 at the beginning of his long-deferred reign, the new andenthusiastic 60-year-old sovereign Edward VII by the Grace of God king, emperor, ruler of plumproperties everywhere on Earth, was surveying his picture collection at Buckingham Palace (itselfworth a king's ransom) along with Frederick "Fritz" Ponsonby, later Lord Sysonby (1867-1935).

Fritz was one of those most useful of beings; a man who had grown up in a courtly family; his fatherwas Sir Henry Ponsonby, Queen Victoria's long-time private secretary. He was a courtier to hisfinger tips, knowing all the ins and outs and where all the bodies were buried. Such a man wasexpected to be available at the monarch's slightest command, know everything, say nothing... and doit all for a pittance. Oh, yes, such people were useful indeed.

On this particular day, the new king and young Fritz were surveying the picture galleries which stillhad the dour mark of Queen Victoria on them. This meant the greatest masterpieces of the greatestEuropean masters cheek by jowl, higgledy-piggledy with daubs in water color by minor princessesof minor German states. ("Dear Maria had no talent, poor thing.")

There was no order to it, just one thing on top of another. Edward VII, a man who understood hiscraft, his metier of kingship, was appalled but not dismayed. He had waited a lifetime for thismoment, and he told Ponsonby, standing by with notebook in hand, "I may know nothing aboutarrrrrrrt," he intoned in his idiosyncratic mixture of English and guttural German. "But I think Iknow something about arrrrrrangement."

And so he did... in art, in music, in life. Thus, to accompany this article I have selected the "EnigmaVariations" by Sir Edward Elgar (1857-1934). Find them now in any search engine. They werecomposed in 1898-1899, just in time for the lush richness of England and her empire at their peak inthe reign of a man who knew every nuance of being a king, including which artists should beallowed to paint him and so provide the desired look for all time.

One of the most favored of these artists was Heinrich (later Baron) von Angeli, persona gratissimaat all the Courts of Europe, not merely talented, but arguably the best connected painter of his day.How had this happened?

Favored by an unhappy princess.

Prince Albert, Queen Victoria's beautiful and obsessively loved husband, fathered 9 children, ofwhom two were of major political significance: Princess Victoria, Princess Royal (1840-1901) andPrince Edward, Prince of Wales (1841- 1910). She was married far too young (just 17 years old) toPrince Frederick of Prussia, Crown Prince (1831-1888). It was a love match fervently desired by herparents, who saw thereby a means to expedite German unification and hence create a liberal,progressive nation under a constitutional monarchy, a highly desirable solution to the thorny"German problem" to the benefit of all Europe.

It was, on paper, a brilliant plan... except for one thing: neither Fritz's father, King (later Emperor)William of Prussia (1797-1888) or his chief henchman Otto (later Prince) von Bismarck(1815-1898) wanted what those meddling Englanders wanted... quite the reverse, "blood and iron"being more their cup of tea. And so young, idealistic, home-sick Princess Victoria, now CrownPrincess of Prussia, went to her fate... to be ridiculed, derided, humiliated and isolated by Bismarck,




past master in the art of exquisite torments.

She became the most unhappy princess on Earth, for all that she had the man of her dreams as herwedded husband. She needed a friend and here at least the fates were kind, for she got as herpainting tutor just the right man, Heinrich von Angeli. His visits lessoned the burdens of her royallife. He made her smile and this skill, linked to undeniable talent, made von Angeli and his meteoriccareer.

Mirror, not just painter.

He saw the princes of Europe as they wanted to be seen, picturing them as larger than life, bold,audacious, people of vision and destiny. And on this basis he networked his way through theinterconnected dynasties which constituted the acme of Europe in this last, greatest age ofmonarchy.

Paint box in hand, he trod the corridors of undeniable power, great pictures always the result of hisvisits... pictures of his loyal patron the Crown Princess of Prussia, her husband the Crown Prince....Queen Victoria (to whom in 1877 he presented his own most attractive self portrait)... AustrianEmperor Franz Josef... and, of course, Prince Edward, The Prince of Wales. It is the study for thismagnificent portrait of 1890 that you see above, the dirty, distressed, undistinguished "before"image... and then, as if painted today, the splendid "after", a prince indeed.

For if von Angeli had been fortunate in his patron, so, too, both he and his image of the man whobecame Edward VII were equally fortunate in the conservator who brought this woebegone pictureback from the brink, saving it for grateful generations yet to come. This gifted conservator is SimonGillespie of Cleveland Street, London, an expert adept at saving portraits of royalty... and everyother kind of person or scene. I know. He has worked his undeniable magic on over three dozen suchpictures for me, this being the latest.

"Kaiserhaus und Historika" sale, Dorotheum, Lot 260, 8 May, 2012.

This picture was placed for auction at the very end of a long day when I had had almost no luck,until I acquired Lot 256, a superb signed photograph of the Prince of Wales' brother-in-law, EmperorFrederick III photographed as Crown Prince of Germany. I owed its "steal" price to the fact that theauction was nearly over, most folks already gone. My spirits upbeat from this pip of an acquisition,I awaited the signed and 1890 dated portrait of Edward of Wales with equanimity. In the event, itsunappealing condition linked to a much diminished audience carried the day. It was mine, and at avery attractive price. All it needed now was Simon Gillespie.

Simon's review.

Simon's work demands utter and complete honesty and integrity. This is essential, and here with thisdistressed artifact he gave full measure. Upon delivery from Vienna, he emailed a full report of itsdisfigurements and discolorations. Most of the background, which is now a light gray and for itstime a modern conceit, had been glazed over with a brown paint. Further to this, the last treatment ithad received had included painting out broad brush strokes around the head in an attempt to "tidyup" and make presentable the regal image.

Gillespie never commits such solecisms... for his credo is to return venerable objects to their pristinestate... conserving, not inventing. He is the painter's latter-day incarnation, as true to the painter'soriginal intention as possible... and his intentions in this work were clear: to make an energeticsketch, to render the bravura techniques and prowess of his middle age, to capture the goodpersonality of the sitter. The artist succeeded in his objective because Simon Gillespie, master,succeeded in his.




There is only one question left. Did this splendid study lead to one of Angeli's royal masterpieces? Itconstitutes the perfect query for my older age. Therefore I am not chagrined to have found noanswer yet. For now it is enough that this engaging sketch has survived and faces its future with amixture of royal pride and affability, the attributes of the sitter, captured by von Angeli, saved byGillespie and now, chez moi, an object of grandeur and appeal, truly fit for a king, perfectlypositioned for maximum effect... for I know something about arrrrrrangement, too.




Charles VII, Holy Roman Emperor 1742-1745. A must-haveimperial image found by a connoisseur, restored by amaster, shared with you in its full majesty.By Dr. Jeffrey Lant

Author's program note. You are about to be taken inside a world of finesse, exquisite manners, bonton, a world where la douceur de la vie was perfected in every particular and where every momentaway was quite simply unbearable. I am talking, of course, of eighteenth century Europe and moreprecisely of its monarchs and the aristocracy that provided the rapt audience for majesty's everymove. As Maurice de Talleyrand-Perigord said, "Those who had not known the Ancien régimewould never be able to know how sweet life had been", and he was most assuredly in a position toknow.

So while we cannot reconstruct this moment of heaven on Earth, we can at least revive a moment ofits essence, rather like the fine perfume that lingers on a packet of love letters and so evokes thewhole in an instant of rich remembrance. That is why I advise you to play Jean-Philippe Rameau(1683-1764) before continuing with this article. Yes, Rameau whose sophisticated notes waftedfrom the salons of Versailles to all the chateaux of Europe, the music for love affaires without end.

Listen to La Orquesta de Luis XV Concierto de Jordi Savall. You will easily find it any searchengine, and you will soon savor it, especially if there is a drop of blue blood in your veins, as youhave always surmised... and hoped.

An emperor dies, a cornucopia of possibilities.

This chapter of our story begins with a death; but not just any death; the death of God's vicegerent onEarth, Charles VI, ruler of the conglomerate that was neither (according to Voltaire) Holy... norRoman... nor an Empire. He was a man with a problem; a problem he died (1740) believing he hadsolved. He had sired only daughters (two) but according to the rules of succession, these daughterscould not rule; only sons might... and there were no imperial sons to be had. Charles kept trying toremedy the deficiency, but could not. He then decided that the rules could be changed, if he bribedhis fellow monarchs sufficiently.

He called his solution the Pragmatic Sanction... and it cost him a pretty penny. What's more, theminute he died, the princes of Europe (particularly Frederick II of Prussia) abjured their oaths... eachbelieving they could get more through outright theft, an art perfected by sovereigns thereafter called"Great", like Frederick. And so war with all its delicious possibilities came again to Europe, thisparticular dust-up called "The War of the Austrian Succession" (1740-1748).

Of the many kings and princes involved (including Maria Theresa, the archducal beneficiary of thePragmatic Sanction), only one need detain us here, Charles Albert, Prince-elector of Bavaria from1726. He was the candidate Louis XV of France selected to break the Habsburgs unbreakable holdon the imperial title and emoluments. It seemed like a fine idea when raised... and so enough electorswere bribed to make him "Charles VII, by the grace of God elected Holy Roman Emperor, foreverAugust, King in Germany and of Bohemia, Duke in...etc., etc." How could mere mortal turn it alldown?

Thus was Europe divided into the Habsburg party and those who saw more spoils by adhering to theonly non-Habsburg emperor since the 15th century, Charles VII Albert of the giddy House ofWittelsbach, cock-a-hoop, but not for long.

"Uneasy lies the head..."




Soon enough Charles Albert had reason to regret. His imperial coronation on 12 February 1742 wasfollowed by his Austrian adversaries overrunning his home territories and Munich his capital. Hehad an imperial title but no substance whatsoever. Deriding wags mocked him, "et Caesar et nihil,"meaning "as well Emperor, as nothing." Just a year later,1743, this impecunious, hapless princelingdied, of gout, obese, despairing. And so he returned to Munich in a super sized coffin, a failure, anembarrassment, a man best forgotten, not painted.

Bildnis des Kurfursten Karl Albrecht von Bayern, Jan Kupetzky (Bosing/Pressburg 1667- 1740Nurnberg), zugeschrieben, Ol auf Leinwand, 92 x 74,3 cm.

I am a close reader of "Alte Meister" ("Old Master") catalogs produced by the Austrian auctionhouse Dorotheum (founded in 1707). I open these catalogs with a mixture of dread and white-hotenthusiasm; afraid of what I'll find that will crush my every good intention to "budget" and "save"...painstaking in reviewing every page. The portrait of the Emperor Carl VII Albert, Lot 8, 11 June,2012 was tailer-made to catch my eye. It was love at first sight; I could only hope that my long-timeconservator Simon Gillespie would find the irremediable flaws that would save my money andnegate any thought of purchase. Otherwise I was well and truly doomed, since I am an assiduouscollector of Austrian imperial pictures and this one was rare indeed; no wonder, given the fact thatthe subject had other things to do than sit for his portrait during his brief reign so filled with woe andcatastrophe. I awaited Simon's report with impatience.

Dull to look at, layers of dirt and discolored varnishes, what the trained eye sees, what it means.

If you mean to collect good art, particularly good art down on its luck, dirty, damaged, desolate, youneed an eye that sees not only what is but what was and what can be. This is the masterful, deepseeing eye Simon Gillespie, wizard of Cleveland Street London, has developed over decades andwhich I, mere acolyte, have spent many years improving. The entire business is predicated on whatthe master's eye sees and what his deft hand must then effect to return the disconsolate image to theradiance its artist intended.

This is all easily said but needs the study and experience of a lifetime to render. I invariably retainSimon Gillespie because he remains constant in his objective; to restore, not to invent; to go wherethe artist went but no further, and so return to life in its pristine form each work he touches with hisnimble fingers, the fingers it has taken a lifetime to train and execute their crucial work.

Simon's report.

Given the dull appearance of this picture, its layers of disfiguring dirt and degraded varnishes,writing it off might have made perfect sense, especially given a plethora of other problems,including a plain and ordinary wooden frame. There was absolutely nothing imperial about it. Buthere is where Gillespie's masterful eye came into play, for beneath every dismal aspect there wasquality, the quality imparted by its creator, Jan Kupetzky (1667-1740).

Kupetzky's talent manifested itself early and to the right people. Just 20 years old, after studying withthe Swiss painter Benedikt Klaus, Kupetzky went on an extended Italian study trip. In Rome, PrinceAleksander Benedykt Sobieski, the son of Polish King John III Sobieski, helped him becomefamous... and so for the rest of his long life he was. This fame got him the plum commissions; thestriking pictures that resulted got him more; Prince Eugene of Savoy, aristocrats needing a carefultouch with their eternal images, even Russian Tsar Peter I and his hapless heir, Tsarevich AlexeiPetrovich. Influenced by Caravaggio and Rembrandt he painted splendid pictures of himself, hisfamily, friends. He was a master and used his great gifts to great effect. In due course, with assiduityand brilliance he became the most significant German portrait painter of his day; just the manCharles VII Albert required to portray him as he wished to be, very definitely not as he was.




Gillespie looked deep and saw enough evidence of masterful Kupetzky to justify proceeding to thenext level. And on this basis I acquired the work at auction for the low estimate; I believe I was theonly bidder. That's how little appeal this picture then possessed and how nearly a very different fatehad been avoided.

Ah, but look at it now... its splendor enhanced by the best carver and gilder in London whoreplicated an original frame design and delivered the high tone of gilding as would have been at thetime. And so the saddest Holy Roman Emperor, the man who gambled all and lost all, sails forthinto perpetuity looking exactly like a king should look, signed by Kupetzky, conserved by Gillespie,hung here in Cambridge for me.




ResourceAbout the Author Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a widerange of online services for small and-home based businesses. Services include home businesstraining, affiliate marketing training, earn-at-home programs, traffic tools, advertising, webcasting,hosting, design, WordPress Blogs and more. Find out why Worldprofit is considered the # 1 onlineHome Business Training program by getting a free Associate Membership today.

Republished with author's permission by Howard Martell http://HomeProfitCoach.com.



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a tribute to simon gillespie by dr. jeffrey lant master marketer and also collector of fine art nov...

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