Photographs

Original linen-backed lithograph, featuring a large portrait of Liane de Pougy by A. Gallice after a photograph by Léopold-Emile Reutlinger ("cliché Reutlinger" stated on the plate). Printed by G. Bataille. Horizontal and vertical fold marks, discreet traces of rolling at the hem of the dress, four pasted and stamped tax stamps, and a shadow in the left margin.

Exceptionally rare original poster advertising a performance by the dancer and courtesan Liane de Pougy, renowned for boldly displaying her beauty on stage and for the openly sapphic loves recounted in her writings (Idylle saphique, 1901).  This unrecorded document is the only copy we can trace.

Exceptional album comprising 54 original caricatures, some captioned, executed in India ink, pencil, and watercolour (including three small pencil sketches on loose leaves), together with several blank leaves.

This entertaining and highly personal album, evidently compiled by an amateur artist, appears to chronicle the various adventures and misadventures of a small cast of recurring characters, all seemingly connected in one way or another with the French Embassy to the Ottoman Porte, as suggested by a piece of official letterhead inserted between two leaves.

Contemporary full ivory vellum with yapped edges, smooth spine ruled in red, a restored split at the head of the spine, red fillets framing the boards, some marking to the covers, comb-marbled endpapers, red edges.

The album also includes one autograph letter signed in black ink, embellished with marginal caricatures, addressed to Mr H. Fournier and opening with "Cher Washington n°2".

The recipient of this satirical, illustrated letter appears to be the diplomat Hugues Marie Henri Fournier (1821–1898), appointed ambassador to Constantinople in 1877.

The adventures of the small group, identified by captions in black pencil, seem to begin in Florence in September 1872 and continue on to Rome.

The album includes, among other scenes, a watercolour depicting the Temple of Vesta.

In December 1872, according to an ink caption, the group—comprising the Vicomtes Bresson, de Mareuil, d'Hauterive, and d'Hérisson—is caricatured in Rome: at the theatre, on the Capitoline Hill, on horseback, and so forth.

A panoramic watercolour likewise satirises the Franco-Prussian War of 1870 and its protagonists.

Also portrayed in pencil alongside Fournier are General de Castelbajac and the Baron de Talleyrand.

The album further contains a fine pencil portrait of Khalil Bey.

The renowned Ottoman diplomat and collector, born in Cairo in 1831 and deceased in Istanbul in 1879, had indeed returned to Constantinople in 1872, after his ambassadorship in Vienna (1868), to marry the Egyptian princess Nazli Fazl. In addition to his role in the Crimean War, he is remembered for his celebrated art collection which, sold at auction in 1868, included works by Courbet (among them L'Origine du monde), Ingres, Delacroix, and others.

The Comte d'Osmond and Alfred de Courtois are likewise caricatured.

The album also features a view titled Pointe imaginaire du sérail and a watercolour depicting a game of lawn tennis.

A unique ensemble.

Rare first edition of the catalogue for Picasso’s final exhibition at the Galerie Paul Rosenberg in Paris, held from 17 January to 18 February 1939 at 21 rue La Boétie. The front wrapper is illustrated with a black-and-white photograph of the exhibition’s centrepiece: La sculpture nègre devant la fenêtre, now known as Buste de Minotaure devant une fenêtre (Private Collection; see Zervos, vol. VIII, p. 360). Painted on 19 April 1937, the work is widely regarded as a precursor to the bull of Guernica, executed only a few weeks later.

An excellent, well-preserved copy.

The plaquette lists the 33 works exhibited, arranged by year of execution- 1936, 1937, and 1938. The verso carries the notice of the next exhibition, “Centenary of Cézanne”, dated 20 February 1939. These two events were followed only by a final show devoted to Georges Braque, before the gallery closed and Paul Rosenberg left France for permanent exile in the United States.

“In his cosmogony, every thing, every being—plant, animal or human—deserves the same respect. For all are confronted with the same iron law: solitude.” (Luc Desbenoit).

“Marc Trivier’s photographs write a tragedy of light, one that only receives beings—humans, trees, or beasts—by burning them, before disappearance.” (Xavier-Gilles, Le Monde Libertaire).

“After thirty-five years of photographic practice, of obsessions, perhaps what remains is this: a singular way of recording the burning of light, unfolding from one image to the next, a succession of propositions that resemble each other and yet each is as singular as the fraction of time to which it refers.” (Marc Trivier).

“Photography says only one thing: ‘It was.’ We fix only what has been. If there is a tragedy, it lies there.” (Marc Trivier)

“(...) rather than being one more portraitist of writers and artists, he sets himself apart through his method: under the pretext of adjustments, he makes his models wait, posing for several minutes, which gives them a weary look. He perhaps awaits a more natural behavior. And so we find ourselves before Francis Bacon in precarious balance, Samuel Beckett, Jean Dubuffet or Michel Foucault slumped more or less in their chairs. Intimate images.” (Sylvie Rousselle-Tellier, “Une image de fatigue chez Marc Trivier,” Marges, 2004).

“I was reading Genet; for me Genet was just letters on a page. Then one day I saw his portrait—it was like a fracture. How was it possible that these signs were also someone? To make a portrait is to rejoin the name and the face.” (Marc Trivier).

“What interested me was not simply photographing a body or a face, but that particular situation that is someone taking the photograph of someone else.” (Marc Trivier).

Portrait of Tsuguharu Foujita, original photograph on albumen paper. Blue stamp of the studio "Photographie Simon's, 40 rue de Passy, Paris" on the back of the print.

Splendid portrait inscribed by Foujita on his birthday: "A Lolotte Rabinovitz / Avec mes amitiés / Je suis toujours / prêt à toi [sic] / à Yoshinoya New York / ma fête 27 nov 1930". "To Lolotte Rabinovitz / With my friendship / I am always / close to you / at Yoshinoya New York / my birthday 27 Nov 1930".

Original photographic portrait of Sigmund Freud, in silver print made later by Engelman from the original negative.

After the Night of Broken Glass, the young Jewish photographer Edmund Engelman (1907-2000) fled to the United States leaving behind his precious but compromising negatives of his clandestine photography. He did not recover them until after the Second World War, in 1952, from the psychoanalyst's daughter Anna Freud.
Handwritten inscription signed by photographer Edmund Engelman in the lower margin of the photograph: “à Nadine Nimier Cordialement Edmund Engelman” (“To Nadine Nimier Sincerely Edmund Engelman”).
Nadine Nimier was the wife of the writer Roger Nimier. She hosted “Les après-midi de France Culture”, a show in which she received some well-known and highly respected psychoanalysts, namely Jacques Lacan and Françoise Dolto. It was on 20 January 1980 that she interviewed Edmund Engelman, then on a visit to Paris for the exhibition of his photographs at the Erval Gallery.

A beautiful portrait of the founder of psychoanalysis taken in May 1938, shortly before his departure from Vienna to London.

One hundred and six photographs were taken during Engelman's clandestine visit to Freud at 19 Berggasse in Vienna. Many of these photographs depicting the psychoanalyst's practice and art collection are known, but the artist only took a few portraits of the master. This photographic session was carried out at the request of August Aichhorn and bears witness to the last moments of the birthplace of psychoanalysis, a discipline from this point forward banned by the Nazi regime:
“On Sunday 13 March, a meeting of the management committee of the Viennese Psychoanalytical Society took place and two decisions were taken: all members of the Society must leave the country as quickly as possible and the headquarters of the Society must be at the place where Freud will settle.” (“August Aichhorn et la figure paternelle: fragments biographiques et cliniques” in Recherches en psychanalyse n° 1, 2004)

Edmund Engelman in his book entitled La Maison de Freud Berggasse 19 Vienne published in 1979 recounts:
“I remember both my excitement and my fear, that rainy morning of May 1938, as I walked through the deserted streets of Vienna towards 19, Berggasse. I carried my cameras, tripod, lenses and film in a small suitcase that seemed to get heavier with each step. I was convinced that anyone who saw me would know that I was going to see Dr Sigmund Freud, to accomplish a mission that the Nazis would not have appreciated. [...] I was afraid that there was not enough light to photograph the interior of Freud's house. Using flash or spotlights was out of the question as the Gestapo kept the house under constant surveillance. This unique document on the place where Freud had lived and worked over the past forty years, would have to be executed without arousing the slightest suspicion.

I feared for my own safety as for the lives of the Freuds, and did not want to compromise myself by a misstep when they were so close to leaving Vienna safe and sound. [...] One weekend in 1933, at the summer residence of a friend, outside of the city, I had the pleasure of meeting a certain August Aichhorn who was closely interested in the highly controversial field of psychoanalysis and was, to my keen curiosity, a close friend of the famous professor Freud. [...] We quickly became good friends. [...] He confided to me that Freud, after a terrible harassment (raid of his house by the Nazis, detention of his daughter Anna), had finally received permission to leave for London, thanks to the intervention of senior figures and foreign diplomats. The Freuds, he told me, would set out within ten days. The famous apartment and its offices would be disrupted by the move and the departure of the owners. We agreed that it would be of the greatest interest to the history of psychoanalysis to undertake a precious and detailed testimony of the place where it had been born, so that, according to the courageous expression of Aichhorn, “it would be possible to erect a museum when the storm of the years is over. [...] Knowing my interest and my quality as a photographer, he asked me if I felt able to take photographs of Freud's house. I was enthusiastic. [...] Above all, I was eager to know Freud who had then entrenched himself in his private life and had little relationship with the outside world.” (Engelman, La Maison de Freud Berggasse 19 Vienne, 1979)
The photographer then explained that Freud, very weakened by illness, was supposed to be absent during the photography session, however, “The next day – the third day – while I was about to take some complementary photographs of the office (experiencing there for the first time a feeling of routine), I heard small rapid footsteps approaching. It was Freud. He had changed his usual routine unexpectedly and, returning to his work room, he found me there. We looked at each other with equal astonishment. I was confused and embarrassed. He seemed worried, but remained calm and placid. I simply did not know what to say so I remained silent. Fortunately, Aichhorn then appeared in the room and immediately gauged the situation. He explained to Freud the purpose of my work and introduced me. We shook hands, obviously relieved. [...] I asked him if I could photograph him. He kindly consented and asked me to continue my shooting as I pleased. [...] I even suggested, if it could be useful, and to avoid trouble or wasting time, to take the necessary photos for the passports. [...] Freud, at my request, looked slightly in profile, took off his glasses, and reacted with a smile to one of those remarks that photographers make while they prepare.”
The photograph described by Engelman is without question the one we offer. Despite the very detailed description of this unusual photograph, it has not been preserved for the illustration of the book.

This very rare photographic portrait of the founder of psychoanalysis was taken a few days before his exile and revealing the stigma of a cancer that will be fatal to him.
It iss the only image of him revealing a smile.

Original photograph, contemporary silver halide print on crumière paper, taken at the surrealist exhibition in Paris in 1938. “Wide World Photos – Services photographiques The New York Times” imprinted on the verso.
This picture depicts the object “Cadavre exquis” by André Breton, which was exhibited in the room adjacent to the main room at the exhibition and surrounded by paintings by René Magritte and sculptures by Hans Arp.
Stencilled inset glued on the back of the picture: “International Surrealism Exhibition 1938 opens at the Beaux-arts gallery. Paris. What to think of this curious “chest of drawers” on a woman's legs? Photo NYT Paris Fre. 18.1.38 DB.”

A substantially cropped print bearing the same penciled number on the back of our photograph (11214), is in the Reutlinger archives at the Bibliothèque nationale de France (Album Reutlinger de portraits divers vol. 53, p.3). We have been unable to find any other examples of this photograph in other public collections. A similar photograph belatedly dedicated to Maurice Chevalier went on sale in 2008.

A beautiful, sultry shot of Colette probably taken the year of her banned dance show "Rêve d'Egypte" at the Moulin Rouge where she shared the bill – and a scandalous kiss – with her cross-dressing aristocrat lover Missy.

"Colette was a nude dancer, which at the time meant that she [...] draped herself in vaporous veils, concealing part of her anatomy under animal skins" (Paula Dumont). Colette had already used animal skins, hugging her figure in this picture, as a sensual costume in Charles Van Lerberghe's Pan, accompanied on stage by Lugné-Poe and Georges Wague. This was the first time anyone had dared to go without a flesh-colored body suit. Justifying her choice, she went on to say: "I want to dance naked if the body suit bothers me and humiliates my plasticity".

At the time of this photograph, in 1907, Colette was performing in countless shows, following her debut two years earlier in Nathalie Clifford Barney's Sapphic Salon where Mata Hari also danced. For Colette, dance was synonymous with emancipation in more ways than one - as a means of sustenance and liberation of her body which finally belonged to her after her separation from her abusive husband Willy in 1906. Her undulating, almost gestureless dance was linked by contemporary critics to that of Loïe Fuller and Isadora Duncan; her greatest success remained "La Chair", a risqué mime show she performed two hundred times in Paris and was subsequently produced with a new cast in New York's Manhattan Opera House. It was also in the halls of Parisian dance venues that Colette flaunted herself freely on the arm of her lovers. Her scandalous union with Missy, the virile Marquise de Morny who accompanied her on stage in male costumes, contributed to the fame of her performances.

This is probably the rarest photograph of Colette taken by Reutlinger who also photographed her draped in Grecian style or wearing her costume from "Le Rêve d'Egypte".

A rare visual testimony to a revolution in dance costume brought about by Colette, a key figure in twentieth-century artistic and literary Paris.

Three original childhood photographs of Maurice Béjart, and his birth announcement 
[after 1927] | 12.2 x 17.2 cm| three photographs and a card
Three original photographs of Maurice Béjart as a child beside his mother, taken in Mougins.
We attach the birth announcement, dated 1 January 1927, printed with his name “Maurice Jean Berger.”
Provenance: Maurice Béjart's personal archives.

« Dans sa cosmogonie, chaque chose, chaque être, végétal, animal ou humain, mérite le même respect. Car tous sont confrontés à la même loi d'airain : la solitude. » (Luc Desbenoit).

« Les photographies de Marc Trivier écrivent une tragédie de la lumière, celle-ci n'accueillant les êtres - hommes, arbres ou bêtes - qu'en les brûlant, avant disparition. » (Xavier-Gilles in Le Monde Libertaire).

« De trente-cinq ans de pratique photographique, d'obsessions, c'est peut-être ça qui reste : un mode d'enregistrement singulier de la brûlure de la lumière, décliné d'une image à l'autre, en une succession de propositions qui se ressemblent et pourtant chacune est aussi singulière que la fraction de temps auquel elle renvoie. » (Marc Trivier).

« La photographie ne dit qu'une chose : « C'était. » On ne fixe que ce qui a été. S'il y a une tragédie, elle est là. » (Marc Trivier)

« (...) au lieu d'être un portraitiste d'écrivains et d'artistes parmi tant d'autres, il se marginalise par son dispositif : sous prétexte de réglages, il fait attendre ses modèles, il les fait poser plusieurs minutes ce qui leur donne un air las. Il attend peut-être un comportement plus naturel. Et on se retrouve face à Francis Bacon en équilibre précaire, Samuel Beckett, Jean Dubuffet ou encore Michel Foucault plus ou moins tassés sur leur chaise. Des images intimes. » (Sylvie Rousselle-Tellier, « Une image de fatigue chez Marc Trivier », Marges 2004).

« Je lisais Genet ; pour moi Genet, c'était des lettres sur un livre. Et puis un jour j'ai vu son portrait, il y a eu comme une fracture. Comment était-il possible que ces signes soient aussi quelqu'un ? Faire un portrait, c'est ressouder le nom et le visage. » (Marc Trivier).

« Ce qui m'intéressait, ce n'était pas de photographier simplement un corps ou un visage, mais cette situation particulière qui est quelqu'un en train de faire la photo de quelqu'un d'autre. » (Marc Trivier).

"In his cosmogony, each thing, each being, plant, animal or human, deserves the same respect. For all are confronted with the same iron law: solitude." (Luc Desbenoit).

"Marc Trivier's photographs write a tragedy of light, which welcomes beings - men, trees or beasts - only by burning them, before disappearance." (Xavier-Gilles in Le Monde Libertaire).

"From thirty-five years of photographic practice, of obsessions, perhaps this is what remains: a singular mode of recording the burning of light, declined from one image to another, in a succession of propositions that resemble each other and yet each is as singular as the fraction of time to which it refers." (Marc Trivier).

"Photography says only one thing: 'It was.' One only fixes what has been. If there is a tragedy, it is there." (Marc Trivier)

"(...) instead of being a portraitist of writers and artists among so many others, he marginalizes himself through his approach: under the pretext of adjustments, he makes his models wait, he makes them pose for several minutes which gives them a weary air. He is perhaps waiting for more natural behavior. And we find ourselves facing Francis Bacon in precarious balance, Samuel Beckett, Jean Dubuffet or Michel Foucault more or less slumped in their chair. Intimate images." (Sylvie Rousselle-Tellier, "Une image de fatigue chez Marc Trivier", Marges 2004).

"I was reading Genet; for me Genet was letters on a book. And then one day I saw his portrait, there was like a fracture. How was it possible that these signs were also someone? Making a portrait is to weld together the name and the face." (Marc Trivier).

"What interested me was not simply to photograph a body or a face, but this particular situation which is someone in the process of taking a photo of someone else." (Marc Trivier).

"On June 28, 1970, I attended the first New York Gay Pride March. The date marks the first anniversary of the Stonewall riots, which launched the LGBTQ+ liberation movement in the U.S. We left from Christopher Street, a gay cultural mecca in Greenwich Village, and walked up 6th Avenue to Central Park. To end the day, a kissing contest was held in the middle of the park! It was a great moment of joy, love and freedom. This couple, who kissed for hours under an umbrella, obviously didn't care about photographers" (Interview with Clément Thierry, 2021)

Original portrait of the painter Mai Trung Thu, known as Mai-Thu, inscribed on verso with his emblematic monogram in colored pen: "à l'abbé Guéniart en souvenir du séjour au S.U.J.A / Maï Thu / 14.6.57".

In this handsome portrait, Mai-Thu is surrounded by his paintings on silk - no fewer than seven, including a children scene closely related to his 1965 masterpiece (Aguttes sale, September 26, 2023). The great themes that made the Hanoi School painter famous are to be found here: ideal women, children's games, tea ceremonies... Each canvas is carefully framed, often in Mai-Thu's own tireless perfectionist hands.

The painter underwent several cures in the 1950s to treat his tuberculosis, including one at the Sanatorium Universitaire Jacques Arnaud (mentioned by its acronym the inscription), where he met Father René Quéniart to whom he gifted the photograph.

"It's war!" we shouted that night, over and over again. The terrible word brought us bad luck... It was 1913: the following year, we were packing our kits again. This time, for real. And not all the guests came back." p. 335

First edition, one of only 6 copies printed on Hollande, this being copy no. 1 of the deluxe issue.
Bound in navy blue morocco backed boards with corners, spine very lightly sunned with raised bands, gilt date at foot, marbled paper-covered boards and endpapers, edges untrimmed, top edge gilt, covers and spine preserved. Binding signed Lavaux.
A fine copy with wide margins, attractively bound.
Bookplate pasted to a flyleaf.
The author's own copy, profusely extra-illustrated, of this magnificent Montmartre chronicle. Tipped in is an original ink portrait of Roland Dorgelès by Gus Bofa, humorously captioned: "Monsieur Roland Dorgelès dans son uniforme de rédacteur à la petite semaine"

Alongside two original photographs, one depicting the famous Montmartre figure Francisque Poulbot in his Guignol theatre (Agence Rol, 1910), and the other a very rare photograph of the legendary “Fête des Dernières Cartouches” organised by Poulbot on 23 May 1913. We have located only one other known image of this event. The photograph shows the merry band of participants at Poulbot’s place on rue de l’Orient, dressed as soldiers from the Franco-Prussian War of 1870. The celebration, which created quite a stir, is recounted by Dorgelès in this book:

Original carte-de-visite portrait signed and inscribed by Alexandre Dumas.
Albumen print photograph on mount. Stamp of Charles Reutlinger's studio in Paris on verso.

Very fine portrait signed and inscribed on the lower part of the mount: "A Ma­dame aimée Persat, A. Dumas".

Probably gifted to the second wife of Maurice Persat, an officer who took part in the Napoleonic Wars as well as Independence upris­ings in Latin America, Spain and Greece, where he bought back a young Turkish slave, Adélé. Back in France, she was placed in a convent under the protec­tion of the governor of Marseille and converted to Catholicism. Persat, a lib­eral and agitator, was forced into exile in the meantime. Dumas undoubted­ly drew inspiration from Adélé's story, relayed in the Marseille papers for his famous Monte Cristo heroine Haydé. The real-life Haydé died of phtisis along with her child in 1832. Persat remarried in 1854 to Henriette Charles Latour, to whom this portrait by Dumas is certainly inscribed.

L'armoire volante is a film directed by Carlo Rim who was also its screenwriter and dialogue writer; the main roles were played by Fernandel, Berthe Bovy and Pauline Carton.
Set of 97 original photographs, silver gelatin prints of the period, in three different formats: 11x8.5, 18x13.5cm and 23.5x18.5cm depicting scenes from the filming of the movie.
The set is presented in a cardboard box from the Crumière establishments with manuscript notations by Carlo Rim on the first cover and one edge.

Set of 38 original photographs, silver gelatin prints of the period, in 24x30cm format depicting scenes from the filming of the movie.
Le mort en fuite is a film by André Berthomieu, assisted by André Zwobada with Carlo Rim as dialogue writer and adapter; the main roles were played by Michel Simon, Jules Berry and Marie Glory.

"On June 28, 1970, I attended the first New York Gay Pride March. The date marks the first anniversary of the Stonewall riots, which launched the LGBTQ+ liberation movement in the U.S. We left from Christopher Street, a gay cultural mecca in Greenwich Village, and walked up 6th Avenue to Central Park. To end the day, a kissing contest was held in the middle of the park! It was a great moment of joy, love and freedom. This couple, who kissed for hours under an umbrella, obviously didn't care about photographers" (Interview with Clément Thierry, 2021)

"On June 28, 1970, I attended the first New York Gay Pride March. The date marks the first anniversary of the Stonewall riots, which launched the LGBTQ+ liberation movement in the U.S. We left from Christopher Street, a gay cultural mecca in Greenwich Village, and walked up 6th Avenue to Central Park. To end the day, a kissing contest was held in the middle of the park! It was a great moment of joy, love and freedom. This couple, who kissed for hours under an umbrella, obviously didn't care about photographers" (Interview with Clément Thierry, 2021)

"On June 28, 1970, I attended the first New York Gay Pride March. The date marks the first anniversary of the Stonewall riots, which launched the LGBTQ+ liberation movement in the U.S. We left from Christopher Street, a gay cultural mecca in Greenwich Village, and walked up 6th Avenue to Central Park. To end the day, a kissing contest was held in the middle of the park! It was a great moment of joy, love and freedom. This couple, who kissed for hours under an umbrella, obviously didn't care about photographers" (Interview with Clément Thierry, 2021)

"On June 28, 1970, I attended the first New York Gay Pride March. The date marks the first anniversary of the Stonewall riots, which launched the LGBTQ+ liberation movement in the U.S. We left from Christopher Street, a gay cultural mecca in Greenwich Village, and walked up 6th Avenue to Central Park. To end the day, a kissing contest was held in the middle of the park! It was a great moment of joy, love and freedom. This couple, who kissed for hours under an umbrella, obviously didn't care about photographers" (Interview with Clément Thierry, 2021)

"On June 28, 1970, I attended the first New York Gay Pride March. The date marks the first anniversary of the Stonewall riots, which launched the LGBTQ+ liberation movement in the U.S. We left from Christopher Street, a gay cultural mecca in Greenwich Village, and walked up 6th Avenue to Central Park. To end the day, a kissing contest was held in the middle of the park! It was a great moment of joy, love and freedom. This couple, who kissed for hours under an umbrella, obviously didn't care about photographers" (Interview with Clément Thierry, 2021)