Some worthy but undistinguished family with more money than aesthetic sense pays a painter to do them in oils, orders up a nice tree background, and smiles for the easel. They end up looking just as banal and dull as they probably were.
But that’s less true if the artist isn’t just painting to commission. And above all if he has real talent. As, for instance, if he’s John Singer Sargent.
Well used to be, since John Singer Sargent’s been late for a while now.
Sargent’s remarkable ability emerges clearly from the exhibition of his works at the National Portrait Gallery, which deserves all the praise the Guardian gave it. Take, for example, the time when he was commissioned to do the portrait of a well-off lady, and then, struck by the looks of her son, asked to do his too. The result, his painting of W. Graham Robertson, is one of the most striking in the show.
W. Graham Robertson in a picture made by the coat |
Talking of drama, one of my favourite paintings was of one of the great Shakespearean actors of his time, Edwin Booth. This portrait too has a story. Booth complained that Sargent wasn’t producing a good likeness; the painter erased the head and started again. The result is powerfully effective: a look full of brooding intensity but also, with the pose, the theatricality of the actor.
The great Shakespearean actor Edwin Booth Unfortunate in having a notorious younger brother |
So ultimately he could not rival his brother, the man in Sargent’s portrait, in fame. He did, however, overtake him, even overshadow him, in infamy.
For John Wilkes Booth, resplendent in looks but little else, was the assassin of Abraham Lincoln.
It was a chilling experience to stand in front of the portrait of his far more talented elder brother, and admire its execution.
It’s only a shame that when his brother dabbled in execution, he too succeeded.
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