Portrait of Louis, Dauphin of France 1749

Editor: Here we have Jean-Étienne Liotard's pastel portrait of Louis, Dauphin of France, painted in 1749. It strikes me as remarkably intimate for a royal portrait. What draws your eye, Professor? Curator: Intimate, yes, a quiet observation. Think of pastels themselves; the medium invites a softer touch, a gentler rendering. Liotard captures not just Louis's likeness, but a certain...innocence. Consider the context: he was next in line to the throne, yet his gaze feels almost hesitant. Doesn't that coloring seem particularly evocative, too, how the light kisses his skin? I almost sense a vulnerability, which, knowing the fate that awaited him, is a poignant touch, isn't it? What do you make of that blue sash and the stark emblem against his velvet coat? Editor: I see it adding a layer of formality, a tension between the soft pastel and the hard reality of his station. It's like Liotard's highlighting both his humanity and his destiny, the push and pull. Curator: Exactly! And think about the pastel medium, itself so vulnerable, susceptible to smudging, to fading. Is Liotard, perhaps, also commenting on the ephemeral nature of power, the delicate balance of fate? These subtle tensions enrich the artwork, transforming it from a simple portrait to a meditation on power and mortality, what do you think? Editor: I never thought a portrait could be so…melancholy. Thanks to Liotard, I might just spend a little more time in the 18th century now. Curator: As you should. Who knows what forgotten treasure you may find?