A newly discovered Courbet, a Rothschild writing desk and even ancient Mexican sculpture—the Biennale des Antiquaires in Paris is sure to have something for everybody

Apollo, Sept, 2004 by Susan Moore

It is not only the French who believe that the Biennale des Antiquaires is the most stylish antiques fair in the world. Even with the odds stacked against it since its relocation a decade ago to the labyrinthine subterranean vaults of the Carrousel du Louvre--the fair will probably return to its traditional venue of the Grand Palais in 2008--it still succeeds in staging a spectacular show. What is perhaps most striking about this fair, however, is the public's attitude towards it. Unlike rival international fairs, be they in London, New York or Maastricht, the Biennale has enormous popular appeal. Even more remarkably, the French regard the art and antiques trade and its flagship fair as of sufficient cultural and economic importance to warrant the patronage-and attendance--of the head of state. And this is not just a matter of lip service. At the last Biennale two years ago, for instance, the Chiracs virtually had to be dragged away from the exhibits to attend the gala dinner. Could one imagine Lady Thatcher or Tony Blair whiling away an evening at Grosvenor House?

Although it is an international fair--and the organisers have attempted to broaden the international range in recent years--the Biennale remains an essentially French affair. Some seventy of the 101 participants this year-15-28 September are national dealers. As for the rest, they are there to tempt their existing French clients--and hoping to find some new ones. As one new exhibitor--Edmondo di Robillant of the Dover Street Gallery in London--put it: 'There are a lot of potential French clients that we don't know. When we exhibited at a Paris fair for the first time last year we were pleasantly surprised by the response.' As might be expected, as well as taking their usual fare of Italian Old Masters, the gallery is also taking coals to Newcastle, offering the likes of a pair of oval flower paintings by Gerard van Spaendonck of around 1783 which were probably acquired by the Duc de Berry, later Louis XVI, and which have passed by descent to the Duchesse's heirs from her morganatic marriage to the Principe di Campofranco. Now on the market for the first time, the paintings reveal the artist's superb technical mastery as a painter of bloom, leaf and stone. In a similar spirit, fellow Dover Street dealer Richard Green is bringing a whole tranche of French Impressionist paintings.

Geneva based Jan Krugier is also in the business of repatriating works to France, this time offering a monumental and recently rediscovered Gustave Courbet--the last work of this scale by the artist remaining in private hands. Gypsy woman and her children, painted in 1853-54, was never exhibited, but left in the care of the artist's friend Dr Edouard Ordinaire, and it was the latter's heirs who discovered it in the attic two years ago. After 150 years of neglect, and fourteen months in the conservation studio, the painting has now emerged to take its first public bow. With a price tag of $12 million, it also promises to be one of the most expensive pieces on display at the Biennale.

A particular pleasure of this fair is always the range of works of art on display--indeed, it is one of the few occasions where decorative arts steal the show. At one end of the scale are the great tapestries exhibited by the likes of the Galerie Chevalier. This year, for instance, the gallery presents a delightful Le depart, woven at the Beauvais royal manufactory around 1670, a lighthearted rustic scene of a laden cart and travellers on their way to a country fair. The real joy of this piece and its decorative border of shells, quivers and acanthus leaves is its gloriously fresh and vivid colours. At the other end of the spectrum are the beautifully presented Roman coins at Sabine Bourgey and the Art Deco diamonds that will send a flurry of high heels up to the Haute-Joaillerie section on the Mezzanine.

Here, one can find anything and everything from the likes of monumental archaic Chinese bronzes to Byzantine ivories or medieval sculpture and Delft, maiolica and porcelain, tribal art, rare books, manuscripts, drawings and prints. Galerie Mermoz, for instance, offers grimacing Olmec heads in green-grey jadeite from 900-600 BC Mexico; Oriental Bronzes, a bronze belt buckle from the Dian Culture of sixth- to second- century BC China cast with copulating ibex--not something one sees every day. Ariane Dandois presents a handsome Sevres vase that was a gift from Napoleon to his sister, Caroline Murat, Queen of Naples. Fabius presents a whole treasure trove of notable furniture, sculpture and works of art from the era perhaps least represented at the Biennale--the French nineteenth century.

For it is the opulent, extravagant eighteenth century of Boulle and Riesener and Roentgen that has been the traditional draw of the Biennale--a draw, not least, for generations of wealthy Francophile Americans (a rare sighting in 2002; everyone is hoping the September migration will resume this year). As ever, dealers such as Segoura, Jacques Perrin, Aveline and Didier Aaron are offering gleaming stands of grand ormolu-mounted marquetry by a whole gamut of masters shown amid a period ensemble of paintings and other works of art. In recent years, however, changing taste has come to favour more eclectic gatherings of furniture and works of art, as shown by Steinitz or Axel Vervoordt. Steinitz, for instance, brings an ingenious Louis XVI writing desk which doubles up as a dressing table, formerly in the Rothschild collection at the Chateau de Ferrieres, a pair of Empire ormolu-mounted porphyry vases which once belonged to Prince Joachim Murat, Marshal of France and King of Naples, and a Regence aramanth armoire by Charles Cressent.