Portret van Denis Decrès 1835 - 1851

Curator: This print, likely dating between 1835 and 1851, is entitled *Portret van Denis Decrès*. The artist, Antoine Maurin, captured the sitter in graphite and engraving. What’s your first impression? Editor: Severe. There’s an austerity in the face, in the tightly controlled lines. It almost feels… breathless. Curator: Well, consider the neoclassical underpinnings, the emphasis on line, order, and the almost sculptural quality of the portraiture—a harkening back to perceived classical virtues and the rejection of ornate Rococo frivolity. The gaze is certainly intense! Editor: Absolutely. It’s about more than capturing a likeness. The meticulous detailing of the uniform—the medals, the epaulettes, the way light plays on them—it speaks to an obsession with rank and social position. Are we meant to feel intimidated? Curator: Perhaps a bit! Decrès was a notable naval figure under Napoleon. Maurin aimed for both historical accuracy and idealized form, evident in the strategic use of hatching and cross-hatching to sculpt Decrès's features. Think how difficult engraving is: those precise, unforgiving lines! Editor: It reminds us of how portraits were effectively tools. Like state propaganda almost. The sharp focus feels detached and monumental at the same time. Curator: Indeed. While presenting Decrès' public persona, there are those fleeting nuances. Look at the almost weary cast of his eyes, perhaps hinting at the burdens of leadership or the fleeting nature of glory. I wonder what Maurin’s own thoughts were when he depicted him? Did he approve or disapprove? Editor: Fascinating to contemplate. For me, looking closer at its rigid structure also allows a brief imaginative flight into what went on behind the stoic mask! Curator: That is a poignant and rather compelling reflection to finish our time contemplating Maurin's *Portret van Denis Decrès* in the collection of the Rijksmuseum. Editor: Indeed; thanks for illuminating both his presence and absences.