Bust “tête nue”

The first immediate result of the 1778 sittings4 was the bust now preserved at the Musée des Beaux-Arts d’Angers (VI32), inscribed “Le premier fait par Houdon 1778”. Completed by 19 April 1778,5 the bust shows Voltaire “tête nue”, with his natural hair. His shoulders are bare, cut just below the collarbones. Houdon had first developed this classicising formula in his 1771 portrait of Diderot6 and would later reuse it for d’Alembert (1779), Buffon (1781), and Washington (1785).7 The bust’s compact, rounded truncation and the treatment of the hair also recall Pigalle’s earlier bust of Voltaire, known today from the bronze version in the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.8

The comparison between the two is telling. While Pigalle registers the signs of old age, he synthesises them into a unified, somewhat idealised likeness. Houdon, by contrast, savours the details: the toothless mouth, sagging cheeks, fine wrinkles of aged skin, hooked nose. The image is completed with the Houdon’s signature touch: the finely carved irises, each with an imitation of catchlight at the upper corner – so convincing that Jean-Baptiste Greuze (1725–1805) reportedly believed they were made of enamel or some other coloured material.9

This exacting attention to detail allowed Houdon to create a lifelike, instantly recognisable likeness. According to Jacques-Henri Meister (1744–1826) who succeeded Grimm as the editor of the Correspondance littéraire, it was the only portrait in Voltaire’s long career with which he was fully satisfied:

The Mémoires secrets similarly observed:

This fidelity to Voltaire’s likeness – or rather, to his image as it lived in the public imagination – made the bust an immediate success. It was reproduced on an unprecedented scale, serving as the model for countless copies, replicas, and forgeries. By the end of the century, it had become not only one of the most recognisable images of Voltaire but also one of the most familiar works of sculpture. Tellingly, Marie-Gabrielle Capet’s (1761–1818) miniature portrait of Houdon (VI33) depicts the sculptor refining a bronze cast of the bust, while an engraving by Ridé after Antoine Boizot (1702–1782) (VI494) presents it as a metonym for the art of sculpture itself.

Not least among the reasons for the bust’s wide dissemination was Houdon’s innovative approach to reproduction. Among the first modern sculptors to embrace its commercial potential, he exercised unusually active artistic and legal control over the process, restricting casting to his own studio, including reproduction rights in his contracts, and fighting – though largely in vain12 – against copyright infringement.13 In the case of the “tête nue” bust of Voltaire, Houdon and his workshop alone produced versions in terracotta, marble, bronze, and plaster.14

The work’s format also contributed to its unprecedented popularity. Unlike full-scale monuments, portrait busts were easily scaled and widely reproducible, making them suitable for a wide range of settings – from public institutions (such as libraries, academies, and theatre foyers) to private homes.15 In the 1760–70s, small busts in plaster, marble, terracotta, and biscuit porcelain began to populate the bookshelves and mantelpieces of the upper classes. Their appeal was closely tied to the fame of contemporary philosophes:16 for those within the philosophes’ circle, the busts signalled intellectual affiliation, while for outsiders, they served as markers of cultural sophistication.

Although Houdon was not the first to create a popular bust of Voltaire, his arrived at a particularly “opportune” moment – just after Voltaire’s widely publicised return to Paris in February 1778 and shortly before his death on 30 May of the same year, which reignited public interest in the author. In the days that followed, Houdon’s studio became a site of pilgrimage:

Bust “à la française”

On 4 June 1778, less than a week after Voltaire’s death, the Académie française, having received from Mme Denis a copy of Voltaire’s early portrait by Largillière (VI7), proposed commissioning a pendant portrait based on Houdon’s “tête nue” bust. The plan was for these two portraits, “created sixty years apart”, to be displayed side by side in the Académie’s assembly hall.18 However, for reasons unknown, on 17 August, Jean le Rond d'Alembert (1717–1783), the Académie’s sécrétaire perpétuel and one of Voltaire’s closest allies, requested that the Compagnie accept, in place of the planned painting, a terracotta bust Houdon had made19 for him in memory of his late friend.20

The bust in question differed significantly from the earlier “tête nue” version. It represented Voltaire “à la française”, that is, in contemporary dress – wearing a buttoned waistcoat, a cravat, and a slightly outdated wig. Unlike the classicising “tête nue” bust, which presented Voltaire as a timeless poet “on a par with the ancient philosophers and writers”,21 this version portrayed him very much as a man of his own time: a worldly figure, a gallant socialite, a courtier.22 As Guilhem Scherf has observed, in conceiving the bust, Houdon clearly drew upon Jean-Baptiste Lemoyne (1704–1778)’s earlier bust “à la française” (VI17), and more specifically, on the engraved version by Augustin de Saint-Aubin (1736–1807) (VI22).23

As the Académie had planned, d’Alembert’s bust made its first public appearance at the séance publiqueheld on Saint Louis’s Day, 25 August.24 This annual gathering was traditionally the occasion for awarding prizes in the Académie’s poetry competition. In 1778, the subject of the competition was exceptionally dedicated to the commemoration of Voltaire, with the prize fund doubled by d’Alembert in his honour.25 On the day of the ceremony, the bust was placed above the director’s seat, making Voltaire, in the words of one contemporary, “the god of the assembly, held in his homage.”26

Following the Saint Louis’s Day celebration, the bust was permanently installed in the Académie’s assembly hall, alongside Houdon’s bust of Molière – the one that had so impressed Voltaire earlier that year.27 The two played a central role in another event held in Voltaire’s memory: the election of Jean-François Ducis (1733–1816) as his successor at the Académie on 4 March 1779. On that occasion, d’Alembert delivered a speech28 in which he drew parallels between Voltaire and Molière, comparing their literary talent, while also hinting at the fact that neither had received a proper burial.29 His words seemed to deliberately evoke the visual presence of the two writers in the room – a connection that did not go unnoticed by contemporaries.30 Perhaps in anticipation of the event, Houdon had, in late February 1779, sent plaster casts of the “à la française” bust to each of the members of the Académie. In recognition of the gesture, the Académie granted him access to all public sessions, along with two guest passes, a purse containing 100 jetons, and a copy of the Académie’s Dictionary.31

The Académie’s commemorations – the Saint Louis’s Day celebration and the election of Ducis – were not the only occasions on which Houdon’s “à la française” bust of Voltaire featured prominently in the years following his death. Additional copies were produced for other institutions, including the Loge des Neuf-Sœurs, which Voltaire had joined just a month before he died.32 Exceptionally permitted to attend the memorial ceremony held by the lodge on 28 November 1778,33 Mme Denis and the marquise de Villette – Voltaire’s “fille adoptive” – brought with them a copy of Houdon’s bust, which was incorporated into the celebration:

On 18 February 1779, another copy of the bust was installed in the foyer of the Comédie-Française, where it again joined Houdon’s bust of Molière.35 Together, they replaced a bust of Philippe Quinault36 that had been donated the previous year by Houdon’s chief rival, Jean-Jacques Caffieri (1725–1792).37 Caffieri responded with indignation. On 9 February 1779, he sent a letter of complaint to the Comédie, condemning their actions as disrespectful (“peu honnête[s]”), and followed with an even more bitter anonymous letter to the directeur des Bâtiments du roi, the comte d’Angiviller (1730–1809), criticising both Houdon busts and calling the sculptor “the greatest charlatan the arts have ever produced”.38

In parallel with the commemorative events of 1778–79, d’Alembert persistently sought to persuade Frederick the Great to commission a marble version of the Académie bust, making no fewer than four attempts. First, he mentioned it in passing in a postscript to a letter dated 3 July 1778,39 then as “just a thought” on 15 August of the same year,40 then as a formal proposal on 30 April 1779,41 and finally, a call to action on 19 September 1779:

Despite all d’Alembert’s efforts, Frederick, who had ignored his first three requests, remained reluctant even after the fourth, citing financial constraints following the War of the Bavarian Succession.43 One can only speculate as to what drove d’Alembert persistence. He and Houdon were on friendly terms (d’Alembert himself sat for the sculptor in 1779)44 and perhaps he wanted to help Houdon secure a lucrative commission.45 But it also seems d’Alembert was genuinely eager to honour his fellow philosophe: in the same correspondence, he implored Frederick to organise a Catholic memorial service for Voltaire in Berlin – a request that, in this case, was granted.46

Following the service, held on 30 May 1780, Frederick was finally persuaded. Of the two versions of the bust, he chose the “à la française” one, offering a most unusual explanation, reflecting the era’s emerging sense of nationalism:

Although d’Alembert’s had suggested that two busts be produced – one for Frederick’s personal collection and another for the Akademie der Wissenschaften48 – the king ordered a single copy, for the Academy.49 The bust was completed by December 15 and dispatched to Prussia later that week.50 Yet even as it passed through Potsdam on its way to the capital, Frederick showed little interest and did not view it.51 On 8 February 1781, the bust was installed in the assembly hall of the Akademie der Wissenschaften,52 where, as Dieudonné Thiébault, then a chairman at the Akademie, observed, it appeared to “see, listen, and spy on all the academicians gathered before him, which made me say, when looking at his sly smile, ‘Can we not agree he is mocking us?’”53

As we have seen, Houdon’s “à la française” bust played a central role in the many institutional tributes that followed Voltaire’s death – at the Académie française, the Loge des Neufs-Sœurs, the Comédie-Française, and the Berlin Akademie der Wissenschaften. One might wonder why this particular version was chosen for all these commemorations. Part of the answer is practical: Voltaire’s posthumous tributes were largely coordinated by the same two figures, Mme Denis and d’Alembert, who resumed the role he had played in overseeing the production of Pigalle’s monument. Yet the more compelling reason, I would argue, is phenomenological. Contemporary viewers repeatedly emphasised the “ressemblance parfaite” of the “à la française” bust. During the commemorative events of 1778–79, they felt the writer’s physical presence, at times, as Thiébault noted, to an unsettling degree. The memory of Voltaire was still vivid, and his representation in contemporary dress made the likeness particularly poignant for those who had known him in life. In d’Alembert words, the bust allowed them to “keep his features ever before the eyes”.54

Bust “à l’antique”

A pair of busts – one “à la française” and one “tête nue” – was commissioned for the Russian empress Catherine II (1729–1796), Voltaire’s longtime admirer and correspondent.55

Catherine had expressed her interest in acquiring a bust of Voltaire as early as April 1778, in a letter to her art dealer and former editor of the Correspondance littéraire, Friedrich Melchior, Baron von Grimm (1723–1807).56 Houdon’s name did not appear in that letter or the one that followed,57 and it remains uncertain whether Catherine was aware that the sculptor had just completed his first bust of Voltaire. The idea may have arisen independently, prompted by news of Voltaire’s return to Paris and his declining health.

By 11 August 1778, Houdon had clearly been chosen for the commission, and instead of a single bust, two were being produced. In her letter to Grimm that day, Catherine expressed her eagerness to receive Houdon’s work and offered to pay 2,000 livres, exceeding the 1,500 initially proposed by Grimm.58 On 1 October 1778, she confirmed receipt of the busts, noting that (unlike Frederick) she much preferred the “tête nue” version.59 She later reiterated:

Grimm’s letter of 8 November 1778, confirming payment to Houdon, also clarifies that one of the busts was cast in bronze (now at the Pushkin State Museum of Fine Arts, Moscow)61 and the other in plaster (present location unknown).62

In that same letter, Grimm informed Catherine that Houdon was completing a (seemingly pre-agreed) marble bust, which was scheduled for shipment in March, along with the architectural plans of the Château de Ferney, which Catherine intended to reconstruct in the Russian capital.63 Grimm added that the bust would be “exhibited publicly during the months of January and February as belonging to our august empress, to satisfy the vanity of the artist”.64 It is unclear whether this public display ever took place or where it might have taken place – perhaps simply in Houdon’s studio on the rue de Richelieu. What is known is that the bust was later shown at the Salon of 1779,65 traditionally held from August 25 onward. This suggests that rather than being shipped in March, the marble remained in Paris until at least early autumn.66

This marble was of a new type, “à l’antique”, distinct from both the “à la française” and “tête nue” versions, though essentially an extension of the latter. The facial features remained unchanged, but the figure now included the upper torso, draped in a Roman toga. In a sense, this was a more literal interpretation of the “tête nue” type that had so delighted the empress. What had been an abstract, minimalist portrait – classical in form and psychological depth – was transformed into a more explicit image of a Roman orator. One might wonder why this new variant was created, rather than simply a marble version of the “tête nue” bust. Perhaps, it was meant to suit a specific interior,67 or to complement other works in Catherine’s collection – such as the series of marble busts created for her by Marie-Anne Collot (1748–1821).68

Voltaire assis

In the same 8 November 1778, letter in which he discussed the “à l’antique” bust and confirmed payment for the “tête nue” and “à la française”, Grimm made yet another suggestion to Catherine II:

The commission to which Grimm referred was for the monument now known as Voltaire assis (VI36), originally intended for the Académie française. While Grimm suggested that Catherine commission a standing figure for the replica of Château de Ferney she was planning, the Empress ultimately opted for another seated version. Over the next three years, Houdon would work on both Mme Denis’s and Catherine’s commissions simultaneously.

According to Grimm’s letter, by 8 November 1778 Houdon had already completed a model of the future monument. The following year, he produced a full-scale version,70 along with two smaller models in bronze and terracotta.71 The gilt bronze model, now lost,72 was created specifically for Catherine II and inscribed: “Presenté à sa Majesté Impériale par son très humble et obéissant serviteur Houdon.”73

This and other early models show how Houdon’s conception of the monument evolved. While the core elements of the final sculpture – the monumental chair, the toga-like gown, and the bandeau de philosophes – were already in place, subtle variations set the models apart. In contrast to the completed version, Voltaire’s body is still discernible beneath the drapery, his left hand hangs loosely from the armrest, and one foot extends forward, revealing his shoes beneath the folds. Though seemingly minor, these differences shift the tone, presenting a more intimate and informal image of the philosophe. This tone is reflected in the Mémoires secrets’ description of the model made for Catherine II, exhibited alongside the “à l’antique” bust at the Salon of 1779:74

Here, Houdon’s monument is not described as a heroic or allegorical figure, but rather as a kind of a genre scene – an anecdotal portrayal capturing Voltaire in a moment of everyday irony.

By contrast, the final monuments (VI36) – both completed in 178176 – abandon this casual naturalism in favour of a more austere and monumental image.77 The composition becomes more compact and dense.78 Voltaire’s body is now fully buried under the voluminous folds of his gown, his hands rest firmly on the armrests, and his feet are barely visible beneath the drapery, making him almost one with the throne-like chair. As in the earlier models, he is represented as an old man, but his features are more generalised, and his expression composed and introspective. His head and torso turn slightly away, his gaze directed inward rather than outward, creating a deliberate sense of detachment, a quiet assertion of intellectual distance between the philosophe and the viewer.

Drawing on the widely recognised image of Voltaire as the patriarch of Ferney, Houdon elevated it through formal means and classical tropes. As Willibald Sauerländer observed, this deliberate duality was reflected in the props: the chair could be read as either a Louis XVI fauteuil or a throne; the garment as both a Roman toga and Voltaire’s trademark dressing gown.79 Like others,80 Sauerländer believed that in Voltaire assis(VI36), Houdon corrected the mistakes of Pigalle’s controversial Voltaire nu (VI24): “Whereas Pigalle endowed an established classical prototype [Seneca] with individual, naturalistic traits – an endeavor that ultimately resulted in a travesty of both idealised and realistic representation – Houdon, by contrast, took Voltaire’s natural, everyday appearance as a starting point and then enveloped it in a freely interpreted classical cover.”81 This synthesis – of the individual with the ideal, of Voltaire’s comic, familiar persona with the gravitas of antiquity82 – is what ensured the statue’s immediate and enduring success.

Mme Denis’s copy of the monument was exhibited at the Salon of 1781. Thelivret described it as a “Marble statue of M. de Voltaire, which was to be placed at the Académie Française, but was since intended to decorate the new hall of the Comédie on rue de Condé.”83 Indeed, having been mocked by her late uncle’s immediate circle after her remarriage in January 1780 to a military officer Duvivier,84 Mme Denis chose to redirect the monument to the Comédie-Française.85 At the time, the theatre was constructing a new stage on the site of the former hôtel de Condé – what is now the Odéon-Théâtre de l'Europe – and the monument seemed timely. On 26 September 1780, the Comédie gratefully accepted Mme Denis’s gift in a flattering letter.86 Their gratitude, however, soon proved to be largely for show.

Contrary to their prior agreement to place the statue prominently in the foyer, the Comédie installed it instead in a private assembly room used for internal meetings.87 Outraged, Mme Denis (now Mme Duvivier) offered to buy the monument back for the amount she had originally paid Houdon:88

In the end, yielding to her demands, the Comédie agreed to move the statue to the vestibule.90

Catherine II, meanwhile, had to wait until 1784 for her copy to arrive, 91 even though it had been paid for in the autumn of 1780 92and completed in 1781. When it was finally installed, she wrote to Grimm with unreserved enthusiasm, declaring Houdon’s statue equal to the masterpieces of antiquity:

In addition to the marble monuments for Mme Denis and Catherine II, Houdon produced several copies of Voltaire assis in various materials,94 each with its own fascinating journey.

First, Houdon retained a full-size preparatory plaster model,95 made in 1781.96 Decades later, this plaster served as the basis for what Louis Réau described as Voltaire’s “secular reliquary”.97 After Voltaire’s death in 1778, his heart was preserved by order of the marquis de Villette, a devoted admirer who hosted Voltaire during his final months. The Marquis had the heart embalmed, sealed in a metal container, and transferred to Ferney (which he purchased after Voltaire’s death). There, he made it part of a small cenotaph designed by Houdon,98 and put on display in a room, renamed accordingly “Chambre du cœur de Voltaire” (VI169). On 16 December 1864, when none of Villette’s heirs claimed it, Voltaire’s heart was declared state property and donated to the Bibliothèque impériale.99 The initial plan was to exhibit the heart alongside Houdon’s plaster model of the statue, medals struck in Voltaire’s honour, and a selection of his manuscripts and printed works.100 The project was only partially realised: the heart was placed inside a metal box housed within the wooden pedestal of the statue, accompanied by the inscription: “Heart of Voltaire entrusted to the Imperial Library by the heirs of the Marquis de Villette.”101 In 2010, during the statue’s relocation, the metal container began to leak, necessitating restoration.102 Now it is on display on the first floor of the Richelieu site of the Bibliothèque nationale de France.

Around 1781,103 a bronze-painted terracotta104 copy was made for Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais (1732–1799), one of the editors of the Kehl edition of Voltaire’s complete works.105 When Beaumarchais completed his hôtel particulier in 1788, he placed the statue in the antechamber.106 In 1957, this copy107 was acquired by Theodore Besterman and has since then been housed at Les Délices.108

Another bronze-painted copy, crafted from papier-mâché (or, to be more technically precise, carton de collage),109 was made for the grand procession on 10-11 July 1791, marking the transfer of Voltaire’s remains from the Abbey of Scellières to the Panthéon. Lightweight cardboard was likely chosen to make the statue easier to transport during the day-long ceremony. The statue was carried by students of the academies of painting and architecture dressed in antique-style robes110 and featured prominently among many other symbolic objects: pyramids inscribed with titles of Voltaire’s major works; a copy of the Kehl edition donated by Beaumarchais; bas-relief portraits of Voltaire, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, André Boniface Louis Riqueti, Vicomte de Mirabeau (1754–1792), and the recently deceased Revolutionary officer André Désilles (1767–1790); a model of the Bastille; and relics from the storming of the fortress – chains, cannonballs, shackles, and a flag.111 Before reaching the Pantheon, the cortege paused at several symbolic sites (akin to the Stations of the Cross): the Bastille, the Opera (honouring Voltaire’s contributions to the genre – Pandore, Le Temple de la Gloire and Samson), the hôtel of the Marquis and Marquise de Villette (Voltaire’s place of death), and the Théâtre de la Nation (formerly Comédie-Française, pivotal to Voltaire’s career). Despite the fragile material and exposure to rain,112 the statue miraculously survived. Most likely, it is this version that is depicted in Louis-Léopold Boilly’s (1761–1845) two paintings of Houdon’s studio from 1804 and 1808.113 After Houdon’s death in 1828, the statue was acquired by Rouen painter Paul Claude-Michel Carpentier (1787–1877), who donated it to the Bibliothèque de Rouen in 1847.114 Following a major restoration in 2014,115 it was transferred in 2017 to the Musée de Beaux-Arts de Rouen where it is currently on view.116

Possibly, reusing the mold from the papier-mâché sculpture,117 Houdon’s studio also produced a terracotta copy,118 eventually acquired by Montpellier collector Abraham Fontanel (1741–1817).119 Together with local artist François Matet, Fontanel established a museum at 2 rue des Étuves, a kind of proto-Musée Fabre.120 There, on 5 January 1803 (15 Nivôse an XI), the terracotta Voltaire assis was inaugurated in a ceremony echoing the pompous commemorative homages of 1778–79. The richly decorated room featured pilasters and columns festooned with flowers; laurel-crowned medallions bearing the titles of Voltaire’s most celebrated works; and a wreath of artificial flowers, marking the space reserved for the statue. The event attracted a remarkable audience – young artists, foreign visitors, and “two hundred women dressed for the ball, about which they seemed to forget”. The opening of canto VIII of La Henriade was read aloud, and amid the roll of timpani, the terracotta statue was solemnly placed in its designated spot.121 The ceremony concluded with a series of guest lectures honouring Voltaire.

Voltaire debout

There was one final encounter between Voltaire and Houdon. In 1806, fifteen years after Voltaire’s remains were transferred to the Panthéon, and twenty-eight years after his sitting for Houdon, Napoleon commissioned the sculptor to create a statue of Voltaire for the Panthéon. From the start, this commission was political122 – Napoleon sought to associate Voltaire’s monument with that of his brother-in-law, military man Charles Victoire Emmanuel Leclerc (1772–1802):

The Leclerc monument was initially assigned to Jean-Guillaume Moitte (1746–1810), who completed only a model before his death. The final sculpture, based on Moitte’s design, was executed by Jean-Baptiste Stouf (1742–1826) and installed in the Panthéon in 1811, “to the right of the first nave”.124Houdon’s statue of Voltaire was completed shortly thereafter and exhibited at the Salon of 1812 ( livretno. 1090).125 It was probably installed in the Panthéon soon afterwards. 126

This new monument (VI37) presents Voltaire standing in a dynamic contrapposto, as if caught mid-step, with his left foot extending beyond the edge of the plinth. He holds a quill in his right hand and a set of writing tablets in his left. He wears a draped gown, its folds gathered at his left elbow, giving it (again) the appearance of a Roman toga. Beneath the gown are visible his culottes, stockings, and buckled shoes. At Voltaire’s left foot lie the comic mask of Thalia and the dagger of Melpomene – perhaps a nod to Pigalle’s Voltaire nu (VI24).

This late monument has divided scholars. Louis Réau dismissed it as “quite mediocre and fully deserving of the oblivion in which it remains”,127 while Hjorvardur Harvard Arnason praised it: Even though this is a reproduction of a portrait done by the artist hundreds of times, the interpretation is incredibly fresh, as are the carving and finishing throughout.128 Despite such opposing evaluations, all agree the Panthéon statue is strikingly different from Houdon’s earlier works of 1778–81. Unlike the busts and Voltaire assis, which depict Voltaire with his head bent and buried in his shoulders, here it is lifted, looking upward. Voltaire’s features and figure are elongated, and his posture is noticeably more energetic and dynamic compared to the sedentary sage of Voltaire assis– once again, suggesting a comparison with Pigalle’s Voltaire nu. The Panthéon statue clearly draws inspiration from Roman sculptures of senators and orators, yet it feels distinctly modern. Not only do the props (especially the voluminous scarf loosely tied around Voltaire’s neck) feel very nineteenth-century, but so do Voltaire’s facial expression, dynamic pose, and even the treatment of marble. In this full-circle moment, Houdon radically reimagined Voltaire for a modern audience. Yet despite its ambition, this reinterpretation never achieved the influence of his earlier portraits – whether because it was hidden in the Panthéon crypt or because it failed to resonate with nineteenth-century audiences.

Conclusion

In 1779, just a year after Houdon’s first meeting with Voltaire, an anonymous Italian Salon critic declared that he “may be called the Sculptor of Voltaire, for no one has portrayed this great poet more often or with greater truth.”129 That Houdon earned this title so swiftly is not just (and not so much) a matter of fortunate timing – his works coinciding with Voltaire’s celebrated return to Paris and subsequent death – but of the extraordinary resonance these works held for his contemporaries.

The years 1778–79 were a brief but distinct moment. By that time Voltaire’s public image had largely acquired light-hearted, ironic overtones. Meanwhile, there was a growing urgency to preserve his likeness for posterity and a shared understanding that, for this purpose, it ought to be elevated. At the same time, the visual memory of Voltaire the individual was still fresh among his friends, colleagues, and admirers.

Houdon’s early portraits masterfully reconciled these diverse, and in many ways conflicting, expectations: they captured Voltaire’s physical features with almost anatomical precision for which the sculptor was known, retained the ironic charm of the patriarch de Ferney, and imbued both with the timeless dignity of classical antiquity. As Jean Huber (1721–1786) acknowledged upon receiving a plaster cast of one of the busts,130 Houdon “returned him [Voltaire] to his friends and offered him to posterity”.131

From this fertile moment emerged three influential prototypes. The “tête nue” bust (VI32) was widely reproduced for private display. The bust “à la française” (VI34) became the preferred model for official tributes. One prototype, Voltaire assis (VI36), however, proved both immediate and enduring. Transcending its time, it continues to shape the visual legacy of Voltaire. As Louis Gielly, quoting André Maurois, noted: “‘Every great man is fixed for posterity at one age of his life’, and the Voltaire of legend, the Voltaire of Ferney, is Houdon’s Voltaire.”132