The mirror’s original crowning element with the letter ‘M’ for Princess Marianne was replaced by a ribbon with a round medallion (after 1945?). The projecting part of the sash worn by the woman on the right is missing.

Commissioned by King Willem I of the Netherlands, c. 1828; donated, as a wedding gift, to his daughter Princess Marianne of the Netherlands (1810-1883), Prinz-Albrecht-Palais, Berlin, 1830;¹¹The ensemble can clearly be seen, along with the accompanying table, in the princess’ bed chamber in a watercolour in the so-called Kamenzer Album, a collection of watercolours from c. 1835 (present whereabouts unknown) showing the interior of the Prinz-Albrecht-Palais; E. Langendijk and F. Scholten, ‘Prinsess Marianne’s Toilet Mirror: Joseph Germain Dutalis and the Sculptor Louis Royer’, in W. Nys, Joseph Germain Dutalis 1780-1852: Silversmith of his Majesty King William I, exh. cat. Antwerp 2004, pp. 122-43, fig. 11. Also illustrated in M. Praz, La filosofia dell’arredamento, Milan 1964, p. 255. transferred to her new residence Schloss Kamenz (Kamieniec Ząbkowicki), Poland, c. 1838; ²²The mirror was probably inherited with the Schloss, by Marianne’s son Prince Friedrich Wilhelm Nikolaus Albrecht of Prussia (1837-1906) and was then bequeathed to his eldest son Prince Friedrich Heinrich Albrecht of Prussia (1874-1940), who died at Kamenz in 1940. Given that the mirror was at Schloss Kamenz in 1941, this seems the most likely provenance. Another, albeit less plausible possibility is that the mirror was inherited by Marianne’s daughter, Princess Frederike Wilhelmina Louise Elisabeth Alexandrine of Prussia (1842-1906), and subsequently bequeathed to her only daughter, Friederike Wilhemine Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Schwerin (1868-1944). looted by the Russian army during the plundering of Schloss Kamenz, 1945; ...; sale Geneva (Sotheby’s), 16 May 1994, no. 186; from the dealer S.J. Phillips, London, to the museum, with the support of the Vereniging Rembrandt, with additional funding from the Prins Bernhard Fonds and the Rijksmuseum Stichting, 1994

Object number: BK-1994-34

Credit line: Purchased with the support of the Vereniging Rembrandt, with additional funding from the Prins Bernhard Fonds and the Rijksmuseum-Stichting

On 2 November 1829, Princess Wilhelmina Frederica Louisa Charlotte (‘Marianne’), daughter of King Willem I of the Netherlands and Wilhelmina of Prussia, became officially engaged to her first cousin, Prince Albert of Prussia.³³For Princess Marianne, see C.H. Voorhoeve, Prinses Marianne der Nederlanden 1810-1883, Zaltbommel 1965; K. van der Leer, Marianne, een Oranjeprinses, trouw tot in de dood, Voorburg 1998; A. Dopatka, Marianne von Preussen, Prinzessin der Niederlande, Frankfurt am Main 2003. Four days after the prince’s arrival in The Hague, the couple’s wedding took place on Monday, 14 September 1830. Newspaper coverage of the wedding itself was highly enthusiastic;⁴⁴Dagblad van ’s Gravenhage of 13 september 1830 and the Amsterdamse Courant of 14 September 1830 (no. 216) and 18 September 1830 (no. 220). the festivities surrounding the event, however, were in fact marked by a sense of great unease. On an August evening, just two weeks prior to the celebrated union, riots had broken out in the vicinity of the Muntschouwburg, a theatre in the heart of Brussels. In retaliation, the Southern Netherlands rose in revolt against King Willem’s authority. Shortly after, Prince Frederik and Prince Willem – the later King Willem II – set up military headquarters in the Dutch town of Vilvoorde. The seriousness of the situation was conveyed by the fact that, scarcely two days after the wedding festivities had come to an end, Prince Frederik was already on his way to Antwerp to execute his duty as commander of the royal army. Having departed from The Hague on 2 October, the newlyweds Marianne and Albert took up residence in the Prinz-Albrecht-Palais on the Wilhelmstrasse in Berlin, far from the tumult in the Netherlands. Schloss Kamenz, which Marianne inherited from her mother and subsequently modernized herself, served as the couple’s second home from 1838 on. They had both palaces renovated and furnished by the German neoclassicist court architect Karl Friedrich Schinkel.⁵⁵See for example G. Grundmann: Schlesien (Karl Friedrich Schinkel – Lebenswerk, vol. 3, Berlin 1941; B. Hedinger and J. Berger (eds.), Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Möbel und Interieur, Munich/Berlin 2002, pp. 16-22, 177-190; A. Franke et al., 900 Jahre Kamenz, Kamieniec Zabkowicki: Spuren deutscher und polnischer Geschichte, exh. cat. Görlitz (Landes Museum zu Görtlitz) 1996. T. Torbus, Burgenrenaissance im Historismus: Das Schloss von Kamenz in Schlesien (Kamieniec Zbkowicki): Ein vergessenes Spätwerk Karl Friedrich Schinkels, Eisenach 2007.

As a gift for their daughter’s wedding, Marianne’s parents commissioned the Brussels goldsmith Joseph Germain Dutalis (1780-1852) to make a large gilded toilet service and matching table. In fact, plans for the ensemble had arisen some time before, in anticipation of the princess’s planned betrothal to Gustav, Crown Prince of Sweden and Count of Itterburg (1799-1877), eventually broken off by the king of Sweden following a diplomatic row. It was likely shortly after the official announcement of this earlier engagement⁶⁶In a surviving rough draft of the king’s letter dated 23 Augustus 1828, the Opperintendant der koninklijke Paleizen en Aanhoorigheden (Superintendent of the Royal Palaces and Related Offices) in Brussels, Count Van Reede, is officially charged with the task of het geschenk ter gelegenheid van het aanstaande huwelyk aan Z.K.H. de Prins Gustaaf van Zweden te maken (‘making the gift on the occasion of the approaching wedding to H.R.M. the Prince Gustav of Sweden’). Allocated to this end was the tremendous sum of 100,000 guilders, later increased by an additional 120,000 guilders. Given the enormity of this amount, the cost of the toilet service would also have been included. The letter also states that Van Reede is to fully utilise his presence in Brussels (Koninklijk Huisarchief, The Hague, inv. no. A 39 II 3a 8). – no later than the summer of 1828 – that Dutalis received the commission for this grand-scale project, on which work commenced one year later. The present silver-gilt toilet mirror, made in close collaboration with the Dutch sculptor Louis Royer (1793-1868),⁷⁷It was by no means unusual for a sculptor to be called in to assist with a project of this nature: Prud’hon, for example, employed the services of the sculptor Philippe-Laurent Roland in producing a toilet service for Napoleon’s second wife, Marie-Louise, in 1810, see J. Helft et al., Les grands Orfèvres de Louis XIII à Charles X, Paris 1965, pp. 256-59, 294. is the highlight and one of the few surviving pieces of this luxury ensemble of 21 items.⁸⁸A jewellery box was sold at auction in Geneva (Sotheby’s), 12 November 1990, no. 7, and in 2001 acquired by the Nationaal Museum Paleis Het Loo from the dealer La Mésangère (Albert Vandervelden), Liège; see A.M.L.E. Erkelens, ‘Verguld zilveren juwelenkist van prinses Marianne der Nederlanden. Joseph-Germain Dutalis (1781-na 1842)’, Bulletin Vereniging Rembrandt 11 (2001), no. 3, pp. 28-29. Dutalis is certain to have understood that the realization of his ambitious sculptural design – comprising a large, horizontal oval mirror symbolically upheld by two classical female figures measuring 50 cm in height – could only be accomplished with the assistance of an experienced sculptor.

For the execution of the female figures in his mirror design, Dutalis’s was undoubtedly motivated by Royer’s modern, flexible approach. He was moreover a sculptor who enjoyed the patronage of the royal court. Having worked with Bertel Thorvaldsen, the influential Danish sculptor active in Rome, and possessing first-hand knowledge of Canova’s oeuvre, Royer was up to date on the latest trends in Italian sculpture.⁹⁹That Dutalis turned to someone other than the Belgian sculptor Godecharle, likewise a Brussels native, is possibly due to the latter’s advanced years. The painter De Landtsheer, whom Royer had befriended during his stay in Rome, also possibly mediated with Dutalis on Royer’s behalf. In a letter to the sculptor dated 9 November 1828, De Landtsheer writes: ‘My dear friend Louis, when I went to Mr Dutalis to pay the commission for which you needed his help, he said he had just sent it to you. He implores you to take care of this work and that were it to take you fifteen days, three weeks, you would be the master he will employ. My dear Louis, when will we have the pleasure of seeing each other again [?], I would very much like to discuss our sojourn in Rome, even though Brussels is one of the first cities I would prefer, still hoping infinitely to return to our Via de Zuchelle […].’¹⁰¹⁰Mon cher ami Louis, Lorsque je suis allé chez Mr Dutalis pour m’acquitter de la commission que vous aviez besoin de lui, il venait disait-il, de vous l’avoir envoyé, il vous prie de bien vouloir soigner cet ouvrage et que si il vous fait quinze jours trois semaines que vous etes le maitre de lui employer. Mon cher Louis quand aurons nous le plaisir de nous revoir (?), j’aimerai beaucoup de pouvoir causer de notre sejour à Rome, quoique Bruxelles fait une des premieres villes je preferrai, infinement encore pouvoir esperer de retourner dans notre Via de Zuchelle (…); Nijmegen, Katholiek Documentatiecentrum, inv. no. 5307.

A series of five letters from the years 1828 and 1829 – all written by Dutalis and addressed to Royer – clearly documents both the making of the toilet mirror and the collaboration between the two artists.¹¹¹¹Dutalis’s letters to Royer are preserved in Nijmegen, Katholiek Documentatiecentrum, inv. no. 5247. With his first letter, dated 6 October 1828, Dutalis enclosed a (now lost) drawing of the mirror’s design. In the same letter, he specifies the precise dimensions of the two flanking female figures: ‘57 cm and 12 mm from head to toe’. To facilitate the making of the silver casts, he asks in this letter that the two plaster models be finished extremely well. In addition, Dutalis emphasises the short amount of time for the project to be completed: Marianne’s wedding day, after all, was fast approaching. In a final postscript, Dutalis reminds Royer – a detail of no minor significance – that to compensate for shrinkage during the silver-casting process, the models would have to be made 1 cm larger than the ultimately desired height just over 57 cm. Royer’s letter in response has not been preserved. Dutalis’s next letter, however, postmarked 15 October, confirms that the sculptor still had questions regarding the mirror’s dimensions. The same letter also shows that the two men had already agreed on Royer’s remuneration for his work, without mentioning a specific amount. Once again, Dutalis reminds the sculptor to complete his task with urgency, and above all, that his work on the king’s bust and any other project be temporarily put aside. Dutalis’s gravest concern during these months was the sheer lack of time. Arriving shortly after this letter, news that the princess’s engagement to Prince Gustav had been broken off is certain to have come as a great relief.

Dutalis’s third letter, sent from Brussels on 29 October, states the dimensions of the two square pedestals on which Royer’s female figures were to be mounted. It also includes the diameters of both the mirror frame and the festoon along the bottom edge, to which the figures’ hands were to be attached. Dutalis’s continued emphasis on the precision he desired of Royer leaves little doubt that the collaboration between the goldsmith and the sculptor was anything but routine work, but instead a working arrangement with which neither likely had much experience.

Royer’s work on the two plaster models was likely completed by mid-December 1829. Dutalis’s initial plan had been to travel to The Hague to examine the sculptor’s models first-hand, as conveyed in a letter written on 19 December. In the end, however, he was unable to leave Brussels. The purpose of this visit had also been to lay out the various parts from which the models were to be constructed: the female figures were apparently to be made not with one but with multiple moulds. Unable to personally oversee this stage of the project, Dutalis advised Royer to contact and consult with a local goldsmith in The Hague. Unclear, however, is whether the sculptor heeded this advice. An examination of the final product in silver gilt clearly shows that both figures are composed of several separate elements, with the seams joining the upper and lower halves of each figure located at the mid-point of the body, and visually concealed by a piece of freely hanging drapery, separately cast and attached with screws. The drapery element on the left figure today remains intact; that of the right figure is missing, rendering the securing hole now visible to the beholder.¹²¹²The missing sash, having the form of a piece of drapery projecting in back, can be readily seen in a photo of the mirror in the so-called Kamenzer Album, see E. Langendijk and F. Scholten, ‘Prinsess Marianne’s Toilet Mirror: Joseph Germain Dutalis and the Sculptor Louis Royer’, in W. Nys, Joseph Germain Dutalis 1780-1852: Silversmith of his Majesty King William I, exh. cat. Antwerp 2004, pp. 122-43, esp. fig. 11.

Another source provides insight into Royer’s working process: terracotta sketch models, or bozzetti, made in fired clay. A statuette of a Bacchante, made in 1840 but stylistically similar to the sculptor’s early work and undoubtedly a variant of the silver gilt figures, gives an impression of the kind of preliminary study Royer is certain to have made for the figures accompanying the mirror.¹³¹³See E. Langendijk and F. Scholten, ‘Prinsess Marianne’s Toilet Mirror: Joseph Germain Dutalis and the Sculptor Louis Royer’, in W. Nys, Joseph Germain Dutalis 1780-1852: Silversmith of his Majesty King William I, exh. cat. Antwerp 2004, pp. 122-43, esp. fig. 6.6; P.K. van Daalen, Nederlandse beeldhouwers in de negentiende eeuw, The Hague 1957, p. 115, no. 68. After several sketches on paper, his first sculptural investigation of the theme would have been a comparable terracotta study, modelled quickly and almost nervously, and measuring approximately 35 cm in height. Only in the malleable clay could he really obtain insight into the effects of his design in three dimensions, the ideal pose, the desired physical proportions and arrangement of the draperies.

The bozzetto of the Bacchante and the two finished female figures holding the mirror illustrate the extent to which Royer worked in the spirit of Canova, especially in terms of the busy, lively modellé and the dynamism of the poses.¹⁴¹⁴See G. van den Hout and E. Langendijk (eds.), Louis Royer 1793-1868: Een Vlaamse beeldhouwer in Amsterdam, exh. cat. Amsterdam (Museum Amstelkring) 1994, fig. 38, for a comparably early bozzetto in this busy, ‘nervous’ style. The light-footed stance, with one leg balancing on the tips of the toes, is unquestionably derived from Canova’s Hebe. The same statue also influenced Royer’s treatment of the mirror figures’ loosely fluttering draperies. This motif also appears in the sculptor’s oeuvre from the 1820s and ‘30s, including two drawn sketch designs featuring angels. The earliest drawing, made when still in Rome, concerns an 1825-27 design for a relief in De Krijtberg, a Roman Catholic church in the heart of Amsterdam.¹⁵¹⁵E. Langendijk and F. Scholten, ‘Prinsess Marianne’s Toilet Mirror: Joseph Germain Dutalis and the Sculptor Louis Royer’, in W. Nys, Joseph Germain Dutalis 1780-1852: Silversmith of his Majesty King William I, exh. cat. Antwerp 2004, pp. 122-43, fig. 8. Royer’s partiality towards Canova – as opposed to the more austere style of Thorvaldsen, with whom Royer also felt a close artistic affinity – possibly stemmed from the French-oriented taste of the royal court, which Dutalis also shared. Among those in noble circles, Canova’s classicism was in great demand throughout Europe, but nowhere more so than in France under Napoleon. Even the Dutch stadholder Willem V, while in exile with his family in Berlin, commissioned the renowned Venetian sculptor to build a tomb monument for his youngest son, Prince Willem George Frederik of Orange, as early as 1805. The stadholder’s brother, the future King Willem I, was also very much involved in the tomb’s realization.¹⁶¹⁶F. Scholten, ‘Canova in Delft, the commission for the funeral monument to Willem George Frederik, Prince of Orange (1806) reconstructed’, Church Monuments 10 (1995), pp. 109-122.

Dutalis’s fifth and final letter dates from 21 July 1829, with the payment for Royer’s work and expenses – an amount totalling close to 800 guilders – and a summarized specification enclosed. One can deduce that, at this time, the toilet service had already been completed. It also conveys Royer’s plans to travel to Brussels on 25 September, to see the final product of their collaboration with his own eyes, though it appears unlikely that this trip ever occurred. Certain is that an opportunity presented itself the following year. On 12 August 1830, Royer –in Brussels to show his bust of King Willem I at an art exhibition – attended an exhibition of ‘National Industry’ open from July to September, where Princess Marianne’s toilet service was being exhibited as one of the highlights.¹⁷¹⁷Catalogus der voortbrengselen van nationale nijverheid 1830, Brussels 1830, no. 993. E. Langendijk and F. Scholten, ‘Prinsess Marianne’s Toilet Mirror: Joseph Germain Dutalis and the Sculptor Louis Royer’, in W. Nys, Joseph Germain Dutalis 1780-1852: Silversmith of his Majesty King William I, exh. cat. Antwerp 2004, pp. 122-43, fig. 10. In a letter addressed to his fiancée, Carolina Kerst, written three days later, Royer confides: ‘Last Tuesday the king walked through the entire exhibition, no less than from 8 o’clock in the morning to 3 o’clock in the afternoon. So be it, all things take their course, which, dearest, there will be no escaping our future. (…) Our portraits are well installed, people speak with great praise of them and of their maker’s talent (…) The toilet is beautiful but not like I had expected; I still wish, dear, that you could have seen it; how much I would like to have seen it with you, at my own ease, but not now.’¹⁸¹⁸De koning heeft dynsdag gepasseert de geheele tentoonstelling door loopen en wel van 8 uur sogges tot 3 uur middaags het zij zoo, alle zaken hebben hunnen loop, het geen ons toekomt liefste zullen wij niet ontlopen. (...) onze portraitjes zijn wel geplaatst men spreekt met veel lof over de zelve en talent van de maaker (...) Het toilet is mooi doch niet gelijk ik verwagte ik wenste tog lieve dat je dat konde zien, hoe gaarne zag ik alles met je op mijn gemak maar nu niet; Nijmegen, Katholiek Documentatiecentrum, inv. no. 5417. Shortly after Royer attended the exhibition, the toilet ensemble was shipped to The Hague for the royal wedding on 14 September.

The toilet service’s premature withdrawal possibly explains the absence of any noteworthy attention in the newspaper reviews covering the exhibition. In one personal account, however, the service was mentioned, albeit described in a slightly jesting tone. After reviewing the various halls filled with products of Dutch industry – ranging from an enormous beeswax pyramid to corsets made from the bristles of wild boars – the Amsterdam publisher Anton Cramer writes of the toilet service almost in passing: ‘Dutalis’s toilet in Brussels is exquisite and worthy of a princess. The object itself is of gilded bronze [sic], and the table top of indigenous marble, together with the objects, which also have the same [marble], costly and tastefully decorated. To this toilet one might have added the confectionary flower bouquets, exhibited by Gregoire at no. 1010, along with two mini-confectionary busts of greybeards. What a sweet contribution as the product of National Industry.’¹⁹¹⁹Het toilet van Dutalis te Brussel, is prachtig en eene prinses waardig. Hetzelve is van verguld brons (sic!) , en het blad inlandsch marmer, benevens de voorwerpen, die hetzelve bevat, kostbaar en smaakvol bewerkt. Bij dit toilet had men kunnen voegen de bloemruikers van suikerwerk, die Gregoire onder no. 1010 exposeerde, benevens twee borstbeelden van grijsaards in klein suikerwerk. Welk eene zoete bijdrage als voortbrengsel der Nationale Nijverheid.; A. Cramer, Nationale Nijverheid of een uitstapje naar Brussel (…), Amsterdam 1830, p. 132. Cramer says nothing of Royer’s role, presumably because the sculptor’s name – oddly enough – appears nowhere in the detailed description of the ensemble in the exhibition catalogue: ‘A Toilet [set], consisting of the following objects: a mirror with two figures, a washbasin and bowl, two arm candelabras, two regular ditto, two candlesticks, two candle snuffers and snuffer trays, a jewellery box, two ditto boxes, rectangular, eight ditto oval, a pin cushion, a hand bell, all in silver gilt, standing on a table of gilded bronze, of which the table top (solely of indigenous marble) was made and assembled by den heer M. de Vleeschoudere De Proost, stonecarver in marble in Brussels.’²⁰²⁰Een Toilet, bestaande in de volgende voorwerpen: een spiegel met twee figuren, een waschbekken en kom, twee armkandelaars, twee gewone dito, twee blakers, twee snuiters en snuiterbakjes, een juweelkistje, twee dito doosjes, langwerpig vierkant, acht dito ovale, een spelde-kaart, een schelletje, alles in vermeil, staande op eene tafel van verguld brons, waarvan het blad (enkel van binnenlandsch marmer) door den heer M. de Vleeschoudere De Proost, steenhouwer in marmer, te Brussel, vervaardigd en zamengesteld is. , Catalogus der voortbrengselen van nationale nijverheid 1830, Brussels 1830, no. 993. Royer may have failed to garner recognition in Brussels for his part in the mirror’s design and construction. Nevertheless, his patron, King Willem I, is certain to have been very pleased with the sculptor’s work both on his daughter’s mirror and his own bust portrait: in the very same year, 1830, Royer was awarded a royal distinction in the form of a gold medal of honour valued at twenty-five ducats.²¹²¹Algemeene konst- en letterbode voor het jaar 1830, 2nd section, Haarlem 1830, p. 393.

For the design of his mirror, Dutalis was probably chiefly inspired by French examples. This by no means suggests, however, that he was a rash imitator of Parisian goldsmithing. The concept of two figures flanking an oval, or sometimes rectangular mirror indeed comes from the French Empire tradition. Flanking figures are encountered on a mirror by Prud’hon from 1810²²²²Cf. Prud’hon’s design for a toilet mirror given by the city of Paris to Marie-Louise of Austria, second wife of Emperor Napoleon, on the occasion of the couple’s wedding in 1810. See J. Helft et al., Les grands Orfèvres de Louis XIII à Charles X, Paris 1965, pp. 256-59, 294. and the monumental toilet mirror executed in 1809-11 by Napoleon’s goldsmith, Martin Guillaume Biennais, as part of a toilet service for Stéphanie de Beauharnais, Grand Duchess of Baden. This vertically oriented mirror, curved at the top, is held up by two small, but lifelike classical figures, presumably representing Flora and Zephyr, or possibly Cupid and Psyche.²³²³A. Gruber, Gebrauchssilber des 16. bis 19. Jahrhunderts, Würzburg 1982, fig. 382. The motif is further developed in a Parisian toilet table with mirror from circa 1819, constructed from crystal and gilded bronze. Here the two gilded bronze statuettes, representing Florida and Zephyr, stand fairly passively on either side of the candelabra supporting the oval mirror.²⁴²⁴A. Dion-Tenenbaum et al., Un âge d’or des arts décoratifs 1814-1848, exh. cat. Paris (Galeries nationales du Grand Palais) 1991, no. 37. Likely of greater interest to Dutalis was the toilet mirror designed in 1812 by Jean-Baptiste-Claude Odiot for Napoleon’s first wife, Josephine, which comprised a standing oval mirror held by two classical female figures, with the mirror itself resting on a pair of swans, the empress’s emblem.²⁵²⁵J. Helft et al., Les grands Orfèvres de Louis XIII à Charles X, Paris 1965, pp. 298-99. The entire piece rests on a broad plinth, which Dutalis essentially adopted – albeit at a substantially lower height – for Princess Marianne’s mirror.²⁶²⁶Demonstrating a contrast with developments in Paris is a toilet mirror designed by the German architect Schinkel to mark the occasion of Alexandrine of Prussia and Grand Duke Paul-Frederik van Mecklenburg-Schwerin’s wedding in 1822, see Jahrbuch der Hamburger Kunstsammlungen 5 (1960), pp. 224-28; E. Langendijk and F. Scholten, ‘Prinsess Marianne’s Toilet Mirror: Joseph Germain Dutalis and the Sculptor Louis Royer’, in W. Nys, Joseph Germain Dutalis 1780-1852: Silversmith of his Majesty King William I, exh. cat. Antwerp 2004, pp. 122-43, esp. fig. 6.15. Here the flanking figures dissolve, as it were, in the candelabra-shaped supports, thus functioning to disguise the mirror’s hinged construction. The figures nevertheless lack the lifelike evocation of Biennais’s and Odiot’s mirror-bearers. Yet Dutalis and Royer’s design for the present mirror went much further than those of Schinkel and the Parisian goldsmiths. By rendering the two large, entirely freestanding female statuettes as if they were actually carrying the mirror, the whole consequently acquired a far more natural evocation, with the figures given a more active role and a special significance within the overall design. By adding this extra dynamism, reinforced by the fluttering draperies, the two men moreover distanced themselves from the prevailing static and decorative aspect of many Empire-style figures, such as encountered in the work of Odiot. It appears they were purposefully striving to outdo their Parisian predecessors with a design of great ambition, producing a work that would demonstrate the high standard of goldsmithing in the Kingdom of the Netherlands.

The leading role assigned the female figures in the present mirror’s design begs the question of their meaning. The previously cited examples of French mirrors were flanked by amorous couples from classical antiquity – Flora and Zephyr or Cupid and Psyche – described in Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Void of explicit iconography and without evident attributes, Royer’s figures are less readily identifiable. A pair of nymphs, poised as if to assist the princess with her toilet, emerges as the most likely interpretation. This symbolic arrangement places Princess Marianne, when gazing at her own reflection in the mirror, in the position of the greatest of all classical beauties: Venus, the goddess of love. Biennais’s jewellery box made in 1809-19 for Hortense de Beauharnais, wife of Louis Napoleon, the first king of the Netherlands, echoes this symbolic arrangement and facilitates an identification of the two mirror-bearers as nymphs flanking an image of the goddess. The relief adorning the cover of this silver-gilt box shows two nymphs attending to Venus.²⁷²⁷J. Helft et al., Les grands Orfèvres de Louis XIII à Charles X, Paris 1965, pp. 284-85. As such, the representation can be seen as a direct allusion to the beauty of Hortense herself.

An alternative, albeit somewhat more speculative interpretation focusses on minor differences in the attire and positioning of the two mirror-bearing nymphs. Unlike the figure on the right, the woman on the left wears a wreath of flowers in her hair. A parallel can be observed with Thorvaldsen’s renowned reliefs of Day and Night – personified as two winged female figures suspended in air – executed by the Danish sculptor in Rome in 1815 and a work with which Royer was undoubtedly very familiar. In the left relief, Day or Aurora is shown strewing flowers. Her counterpart on the right – representing Night – clutches two dead infants in her arms, with an owl as her attribute. Nowhere are there flowers. Analogous to the two reliefs, Royer may have conceived the woman standing left of the mirror as the personification of Morning, with the flowerless pendant opposite being the personification of Night. In this case, the women symbolise the two moments when the princess was seated at her toilet table, preparing herself for the day or night.

The motif of a sculptural fruit garland hanging along the mirror’s bottom edge, recalling a horn of plenty, greatly enhances the toilet service’s bountiful, rich and jubilant allure. Dutalis perhaps drew inspiration from examples of French Empire art, though the same motif appears in Schinkel’s 1822 design for a toilet mirror in Berlin.²⁸²⁸See for example A. Speltz, Das Empire-ornament, Leipzig 1913, fig. 30. Notably, a very similar festoon was also implemented as a frame for an oval wall mirror by the Moscow goldsmith Pavel Ovchinnikov in 1876.²⁹²⁹Sale Geneva (Sotheby’s), 18-19 November 1996, no. 181.

In an 1835 watercolour in the aforementioned Kamenzer Album, Princess Marianne’s toilet service ensemble with matching table can be seen standing in the middle of her bedroom of her husband’s Berlin palace in Berlin.³⁰³⁰E. Langendijk and F. Scholten, ‘Prinsess Marianne’s Toilet Mirror: Joseph Germain Dutalis and the Sculptor Louis Royer’, in W. Nys, Joseph Germain Dutalis 1780-1852: Silversmith of his Majesty King William I, exh. cat. Antwerp 2004, pp. 122-43, fig. 11. In fact, her marriage to Albert of Prussia proved unhappy. In 1844, five years prior to the official divorce, Marianne left her husband and moved to the Villa Carlotta on Lake Como in northern Italy,³¹³¹A. Dopatka, Marianne von Preussen, Prinzessin der Niederlande, Frankfurt am Main 2003, p. 28. marking the start of an adventurous life. In 1848, she purchased a modest country estate Rusthof in Voorburg (near The Hague), far removed from the international beau monde. It was then that she entered a passionate and scandalous love affair with her secretary, Johannes van Rossum. Within months of her official divorce from Prince Albert, the princess and Van Rossum embarked on an extensive trip, travelling to Spain, Sicily, Egypt, Palestine and Syria. Upon returning to Voorburg, she gave the Villa Carlotta to her daughter, who had married back in Berlin. In 1851, Marianne purchased a house of her own in Rome, the Villa Celimontana, which became a meeting point for Dutch artists when staying in the city.³²³²K.E.W. Strootman, ‘Het verblijf van prinses Marianne te Rome en hare kunstschatten’, Mededeelingen van het Nederlandsch Historisch Instituut te Rome 1934, pp. 133-67; M. Roding, ‘Een kleine kolonie onder het mecenaat van prinses Marianne, 1830-1860’, in D. Adelaar et al., De blijvende verlokking, kunstenaars uit de Lage Landen in Italië 1806-1940, Rotterdam 2003, exh. cat. Rotterdam (Kunsthal), pp. 63-108, esp. pp. 77-78. In 1855, she and Van Rossum left Italy and moved to Schloss Reinhartshausen in the vicinity of Mainz, where the couple remained until the princess’s death in 1883.³³³³See for example C.L. van der Leer, Marianne, een Oranjeprinses, trouw tot in de dood, Voorburg, 1998. The divorce was legally finalized on 28 March 1849. Marianne left her jewellery, jewels and pearls to her daughter, Alexandrine. To her son, Albrecht, she left her art collection and another house, Schloss Kamenz. At this time, the toilet service with the monumental mirror is likely to have entered his possession.

Frits Scholten, 2026

Catalogus der voortbrengselen van nationale nijverheid 1830, Brussels 1830, no. 993a; J. Sievers, Bauten für die Prinzen August, Friedrich und Albrecht von Preussen. Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der Wilhelmstrasse in Berlin, Berlin 1954, p. 173; G. van den Hout and E. Langendijk (eds.), Louis Royer 1793-1868: Een Vlaamse beeldhouwer in Amsterdam, exh. cat. Amsterdam (Museum Amstelkring) 1994, p. 18; ‘Keuze uit de aanwinsten’, Bulletin van het Rijksmuseum 43 (1995), p. 67, fig. 3; R. Baarsen, ‘De toiletspiegel van prinses Marianne’, Vereniging Rembrandt Nationaal Fonds Kunstbehoud 5 (1995), pp. 14-17; ‘Recent Acquisitions at the Department of Sculpture and Decorative Arts, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam’, The Burlington Magazine 137 (1995), pp. 419-424, esp. p. 423, no. XVII; J. Kiers et al., ‘De Lelijke Tijd’: Pronkstukken van Nederlandse interieurkunst 1835-1895, exh. cat. Amsterdam (Rijksmuseum) 1995-96, pp. 33, 34, fig. 13; Paleis Het Loo Nationaal Museum. Jaarverslag 1996, Apeldoorn 1996, p. 54; K. van der Leer, Marianne, een Oranjeprinses, trouw tot in de dood (Voorburgs Geschiedkundige Reeks I), Voorburg 1998, fig. on p. 77; A.M.L.E. Erkelens, ‘Verguld zilveren juwelenkist van prinses Marianne der Nederlanden. Joseph-Germain Dutalis (1781-na 1842)’, Bulletin Vereniging Rembrandt 11 (2001), no. 3, pp. 28-29; E. Langendijk and F. Scholten, ‘Prinsess Marianne’s Toilet Mirror: Joseph Germain Dutalis and the Sculptor Louis Royer’, in W. Nys, Joseph Germain Dutalis 1780-1852: Silversmith of his Majesty King William I, exh. cat. Antwerp 2004, pp. 122-43; G. van der Ham et al., Netherlandish Art in the Rijksmuseum 1800-1900, coll. cat. Amsterdam 2009, no. 24; D.-J. Biemond in J. Reynaerts (ed.), 1800-1900, coll. cat. Amsterdam (Rijksmuseum) 2017, no. 25

F. Scholten, 2026, 'Joseph-Germain Dutalis and Louis Royer, Toilet Mirror, Brussels, 1828 - 1829', in F. Scholten and B. van der Mark (eds.), European Sculpture in the Rijksmuseum, online coll. cat. Amsterdam: https://data.rijksmuseum.nl/200370949