Pastel Style

Pastel – an art medium in the form of a stick consisting of powdered pigment and a binding agent. This was the primary medium for many artists during the 18th century, although it had been used since the Renaissance era. Yet, if it was so popular, why are paintings from that era in art galleries primarily oil paintings? The answer: pastel paintings do not age well, therefore, they are very fragile.

Unlike oil paints, which take a considerably long time to dry, pastels were a quick way of “drawing” a painting, which appealed to both portrait artists and their sitters. Pastels are also much more portable than oil paints and take little time to set up. They do not necessarily need water and can be applied to dry paper, although some artists prefer to wet the pastels into a paste and apply them to the surface with a paintbrush.

Today, crayon-like oil pastels are sold commercially, however, in the 18th century, they were made without oil and had a higher ratio of pigment to binder. Whilst this meant it was easier to blend the colours, the powdery pigments did not adhere as firmly. As a result, the colours often faded over time when exposed to light, hence why they are less likely to be hung in a public gallery.

Special, low-lit exhibitions of pastel drawings and paintings occasionally take place, such as Drawn in Colour: Degas from the Burrell held at the National Gallery in 2017-18. Not only did Edgar Degas‘ (1834-1917) pastel paintings need to be hung in a darkened room to protect them from light damage, the curators had to be painstakingly gentle when hanging the pieces since the paper Degas had used was extremely thin and prone to tearing. As time goes on, these works will become even more fragile.

We are fortunate to live in the internet age, which during the current pandemic has been vital for many companies and organisations, including art galleries. Online and virtual exhibitions have allowed people to view and galleries to exhibit artworks that would not normally be seen. The John Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles, for instance, has provided an exhibition of Eighteenth-Century Pastel Portraits, which was briefly shown in the gallery in 2018. Pastels were once the go-to choice for European portrait artists and it is due to extreme care and handling that the following exist today.

Charles-Antoine Coypel (1694-1752)

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Self-Portrait – Charles-Antoine Coypel (1733)

Charles-Antoine Coypel was a Parisian artist and playwright who became premier peintre du roi (First Painter to the King) in 1722. As well as producing paintings for the Palais de Versaille for Louis XV (1710-74), Coypel received several commissions from the king’s mistress, Madame de Pompadour (1721-64).

As a teenager, Coypel had been admitted to the Académie Royale, of which he later became the director in 1747. At the academy, Coypel became an expert with oils and pastels, the latter which he preferred to use for portraits. His self-portrait from 1733, is an example of his talents with pastels.

In this self-portrait, Coypel, who was 40 years old, is wearing the traditional academy uniform, which includes a velvet waistcoat and powdered wig. He is gracefully turned towards the viewer and invites them with his open-hand gesture to take a look at his latest work-in-progress. On the easel sits a preparatory drawing for a ceiling design, which will eventually be completed in oils, thus demonstrating that Coypel is competent in more than one medium.

In his other hand, Coypel holds a portfolio of paper upon which is written in French, “Charles Coypel has painted himself for Philippe Coypel, his brother and his best friend, 1734.” Philippe was a valet de chambre to the king, therefore, it is likely Coypel’s portrait would have been hung where it could be viewed by notable Frenchmen. This self-portrait was not just a present but a means of self-promotion. From this single image the viewer learns Coypel is a member of the Académie Royale and can paint with both oils and pastels. Although the self-portrait was produced with pastels, Coypel emphasised his use of the medium by including a silver holder containing pieces of chalk pastel on the table by his side.

Careful examination of Coypel’s pastel drawings reveals he began by producing a faint underdrawing, which he then built up gradually. He used a sharp piece of chalk pastel to produce crisp outlines then switched to soft colours for the remainder of the portrait. His careful application of the colours emphasises the different textures, for instance, the velvet of his waistcoat and the lace edges of his shirt.

Maurice-Quentin de La Tour (1704-88)

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Portrait of Gabriel Bernard de Rieux – Maurice-Quentin de La Tour (1739-41)

Maurice-Quentin de La Tour was a French Roccoco portrait artist who also had connections with Louis XV and Madame de Pompadour. Unlike Coypel who switched between mediums, La Tour worked primarily in pastels and was one of the most sought-after portraitists of his day.

One of La Tour’s patrons was Gabriel Bernard de Rieux (1687-1745), a French baron and magistrate known as the president of Rieux. After being made president of the Chamber of Accounts, de Rieux commissioned La Tour to produce his portrait. Considered to be La Tour’s masterpiece, this 2 by 1.5-metre pastel portrait shows de Rieux in his study dressed in President’s costume.

The objects in the room reveal more about de Rieux than his costume. The study is furnished with several expensive objects, including an ornamental screen, a globe and a Turkish carpet. The velvet-covered table holds books, an inkstand and quill, suggesting de Rieux is a man of intelligence, whilst the other ornaments suggest he is a connoisseur of ornate items. The painting was produced the same year that de Rieux inherited a considerable amount of money from his father, therefore, this portrait was probably a way of demonstrating his wealth.

This pastel painting has survived because it has remained in its gilt frame since it was completed. La Tour used several sheets of paper, which were pieced together and placed over a canvas. Only using pastels, La Tour produced a likeness that rivals oil paintings. Even today, critics are still amazed at the detail and perfection of La Tour’s use of pastel – he even included the wig powder that had dusted de Rieux’s shoulders.

Jean-Baptiste Perronneau (1715-83)

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Théophile van Robais – Jean-Baptiste Perronneau (1770)

The French painter Jean-Baptiste Perronneau rivalled La Tour’s skill but was very much in the other artist’s shadow for most of his career. Perronneau started out as an engraver and only began producing portraits in oils and pastels in 1740, by which time La Tour was already an established artist.

Perronneau attempted to show off his skill by submitting a portrait of Maurice-Quentin de La Tour to the Salon of 1750. Rather maliciously, La Tour decided to submit a self-portrait to make Perronneau’s painting appear inferior. Despite Perronneau’s attempts, he died virtually unknown.

Unlike La Tour, Perronneau did not have royal connections and spent his career travelling around France looking for clients. Abraham and Théophile van Robais were two of Perronneau’s more prestigious clients. Abraham (1698-1779), whose portrait belongs to the Musée du Louvre in Paris, was a textile manufacturer; Théophile was likely his son.

The Van Robais family, of Flemish origin, was known for their weaving talents and were encouraged by Louis XIV (1638-1715) to set up the Manufacture des Rames in Abbeville, north France. As a result, the Van Robais family became very wealthy and were able to purchase Château de Bagatelle, which is where they were living when Perronneau painted Abraham and Théophile’s portraits.

This portrait of Théophile van Robais is evidence of the fragility of pastel paintings. Before it was acquired by the John Paul Getty Museum, the portrait had been exposed to light, which had caused irreparable damage. Théophile’s jacket would have either been bright blue, purple or green but has now faded to grey.

John Russell (1745-1806)

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Portrait of George de Ligne Gregory – John Russell (1793)

John Russell, an Englishman, was renowned for his oil and pastel paintings, earning him the position as Crayon (pastel) Painter to King George III (1738-1820), Queen Charlotte (1744-1818), the Prince of Wales (1762-1830) and Prince Frederick, the Duke of York (1763-1827). Russell showed a talent for art at a young age but initially attempted to have a career as a Methodist preacher. As a result, Russell became acquainted with the leaders of the Methodist movement, John (1703-91) and Charles Wesley (1707-88), both of whom he painted. He also painted the Methodist minister George Whitefield (1714-70) and future abolitionist William Wilberforce (1759-1833) who was only eleven at the time.

Although Russell took any opportunity to preach, he could not be persuaded to attend the Methodist ministers’ training college. Instead, he enrolled at the Royal Academy school of art in 1770, although was not elected a royal academician until 1788. Between joining the academy and his death, Russell exhibited at least 330 of his works, many of them portraits.

One of Russell’s portraits was of George de Ligne Gregory (1740-1822) who had just been appointed High Sheriff of Nottinghamshire. He sat for Russell in a brown wool coat and white cravat with a black hat resting in his hand – typical clothing of a nobleman in the 1790s. The hat and the colour of the coat’s collar allowed Russell to use lampblack, a dark pigment made from soot, which he recommended to artists in his book Elements of Painting with Crayons (1772). He was also in favour of white pastels, which he used for the satin lining of the hat, the cravat and Gregory’s wig. Russell also included the white powder from the wig that had coated the rim of the hat and the coat collar. Rather than making Gregory appear untidy, this emphasised his noble status since wig powder was rather expensive.

Anton Raphael Mengs (1728-79)

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Portrait of William Burton Conyngham – Anton Raphael Mengs (1754-55)

Anton Raphael Mengs was a German Roccoco painter who was taught to paint by his father Ismael in Dresden. In 1749, Mengs became the first painter to the elector of Saxony, Frederick Augustus (1695-1763) who later became King Augustus III of Poland. Mengs also accepted two invitations from Charles III of Spain (1716-88) to work on various projects. Mostly, however, Mengs liked to spend time working in Rome, where he converted to Catholicism.

Whilst in Rome, he met the young Irish aristocrat William Burton Conyngham (1733-96) who was on his Grand Tour of continental Europe. Conyngham, who later became an Irish politician, asked Mengs to paint his portrait as a souvenir of his trip. Although Mengs was primarily a history painter, he was also known for his pastel portraits and readily accepted the commission.

Mengs was skilled at achieving rich tones with pastels, which were usually characteristic of oil paintings. He showed off this talent with the luxurious red of the velvet cloak contrasted with the blue of the shirt. Unfortunately, light damage has caused the colours to fade making the cloak seem to be covered in grey soot or dirt.

Conyngham’s choice of attire was to make him appear to be a distinguished gentleman. Mengs, however, accurately depicted his face, emphasising his youth and eagerness. Mengs expertly captured the glint in Conyngham’s eyes and the light reflecting on his nose and lips, which was usually difficult to capture with pastels.

William and Mary Hoare

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Henry Hoare, “The Magnificent”, of Stourhead – William Hoare (1750-60)

William Hoare (1707-92) was the leading portraitist in Bath, Somerset – at least until the arrival of Thomas Gainsborough (1727-88) – and was one of the founding members of the Royal Academy. His daughter Mary (1753-1820) followed in his footsteps, becoming a painter in her own right. Whilst many of Mary’s paintings were of scenes from Shakespeare, her father produced several paintings of social leaders and politicians, such as Prime Ministers Robert Walpole (1676-1745) and William Pitt the Elder (1708-78), and the composer George Frideric Handel (1685-1759).

In 1765, Mary married Henry Hoare, who coincidentally had the same name as her father’s friend Henry Hoare (1705-85); the surname seems to be coincidental. The latter, also known as Henry the Magnificent, was a banker and garden designer who laid the gardens at Stourhead, his estate in Wiltshire – now partly owned by the National Trust. The gardens were admired by many and Hoare was good friends with the renowned landscape gardener Capability Brown (1716-83). Most of Hoare’s wealth came from Hoare’s Bank (now C. Hoare & Co) of which he was a partner for nearly 60 years.

William Hoare was a personal friend of Henry Hoare and painted him in profile, like the Emperors on ancient Roman coins. The richness of the blue jacket emphasises Henry’s wealth and the white wig his importance in society.

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Susannah Hoare, Viscountess Dungarvan, later Countess of Ailesbury (1759-60)

A portrait was also produced of Henry Hoare’s daughter Susannah (1732-1783), although there is some discrepancy over the artist. Officially, it is considered to be the work of William Hoare, however, some critics suggest it was produced by Mary during her training as a pastellist. Reason for this is the stiff doll-like face, which was more likely to be the result of a naive teenager’s hand than an established painter like William.

Despite the face, Susannah’s clothing has been expertly drawn, as have her hands, suggesting Mary may have had help from her father. Susanna wears a widow’s cap as she was still in mourning after the death of her first husband, Charles Boyle, Viscount Dungarvan in 1759. Rumours claimed this marriage had been an unhappy one, resulting in only one child. Her second marriage to Thomas Brudenell-Bruce, 1st Earl of Ailesbury (1729-1814) was much more fruitful, resulting in five children, four of which reached adulthood.

Jean-Étienne Liotard (1702-89)

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Maria Frederike van Reede-Athlone -Jean-Étienne Liotard (1755-56)

The final artist in the Getty’s online Pastel Portrait exhibition is Jean-Étienne Liotard, a Swiss painter who worked in Geneva, where he was born and died, Rome, Istanbul, Paris, Vienna and London. On his travels, Liotard had the opportunity to produce several pastel portraits of notable figures, including Princess Augusta of Saxe-Gotha-Altenburg (1719-72), Frederick, Prince of Wales (1707-51) and Marie Antoinette (1755-93) before her marriage to Louis XVI (1754-93).

Despite going on to paint such famous people, Liotard’s most notable pastel portrait is of seven-year-old Maria Frederike van Reede-Athlone (1748-1807), the daughter of an aristocratic Dutch family. Liotard captured her youthful complexion and beauty but also made her appear wiser beyond her years. This is in part due to her thoughtful expression and the quality of the bright-blue velvet and ermine cape. Her peaceful gaze contrasts with the alert, bright-eyed lapdog under her arm.

This portrait has been carefully preserved, allowing us to see the subtle gradations of colour that Liotard used to depict texture, light and shadow.  Liotard was a skilled oil painter but preferred using pastels for portraits, particularly of children, because they could be produced with greater speed, meaning the sitter did not need to stay still for too long. Nonetheless, the quality Liotard achieved with pastels equalled that of an oil painting.

It is a great shame these works of art cannot be seen in galleries more often due to their fragility. Looking at them online is one solution, however, we lose the texture of the painting and the graininess of the chalky pigment. Although gallery curators dedicate their time to opening exhibitions of pastel work, it is impossible to do this without at least a tiny bit of damage. As time goes on, the fragility of these artworks will increase, meaning they will be displayed less and less until the risk of damage is too high, after which they will never be seen again.

Next time an art gallery puts on an exhibition of pastel works, make the effort to visit. It could be the last opportunity to see some of the works before they are retired to a dark cupboard, never again to be seen in public.

Source of some info and images: Eighteenth-Century Pastel Portraits,” published online in 2020 via Google Arts & Culture, the J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles.

 

Elizabethan Treasures

“Small wonders from Elizabethan giants” is how The Telegraph describes the National Portrait Gallery’s major exhibition Elizabethan Treasures. Focusing on two of the most celebrated artists working in England in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, the exhibition explores the art of portrait miniatures, which are reportedly some of the greatest works to have been produced in the British Isles. Although small, these highly detailed artworks provide insight into identity, society and visual culture of the Elizabethan era.

Nicholas Hilliard (1547-1619) and his pupil Isaac Oliver (1565-1617) are two of the central artistic figures of the Elizabethan age. Not only were they excellent painters, but they were also able to produce minuscule portraits that equalled or even surpassed full sized versions. At a time when miniatures were becoming increasingly popular, firstly with royalty and then with the middle class, Hilliard and Oliver led extremely successful careers and were much sought after by a number of patrons.

During the 16th and 17th centuries, miniatures were known as “limning” and their delicate process was recorded by Nicholas Hilliard in his manuscript A Treatise Concerning the Arte of Limning (c1600). Only a copy made by unknown copyists remains in existence making it a rare but significant source of information about the technique of limning. Hilliard asserted that only gentlemen could be “limners” because miniature paintings needed to be tackled with a “gentle” hand. Despite this misogynistic view, Hilliard provided fascinating details about the preparation of materials and the essential tools.

The majority of the miniatures displayed in the exhibition were painted on vellum, a fine piece of animal skin with a smooth surface. To make the vellum sturdier, it was pasted onto a piece of card. Interestingly, artists often used playing cards due to their ready availability. The paint, known as bodycolour, was a mix of various pigments and water combined with a gum extracted from the sap of the acacia tree. Unlike today where paint can be bought ready-made in tubes, artists had to purchase special ingredients and make the paints themselves. The colour white, for example, was made using flakes of lead carbonate, the colour yellow from lead oxide and blue from azurite.

Naturally, to make tiny paintings artists needed tiny brushes. The handles were wooden, not dissimilar to paintbrushes today, but the brush itself was made from squirrel hair. Another important tool was a burnisher formed by a stoat’s tooth on the end of a wooden stick. This was used to add gold and silver elements to the picture, which had been created by grinding gold and silver leaf and mixing it with gum and water.

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Hilliard’s wife Alice, 1578

Nicholas Hilliard was born into a family of goldsmiths in Exeter, Devon, although he spent a considerable amount of his childhood in Germany and Switzerland with the Bodley family, who later founded the Bodleian Library in Oxford. Back in London, Hilliard was apprenticed to the Queen’s jeweller Robert Brandon (d. 1591), a well-known goldsmith in the city. During this time, Hilliard must have received some training in the art of limning but it remains a mystery as to who his teacher was. After seven years of training, Hilliard was made a freeman of the Worshipful Company of Goldsmiths and set up a workshop with his younger brother John. He also married Brandon’s daughter Alice (1556–1611) with whom he had seven children.

Hilliard’s apprenticeship ended in 1569 and his earliest known miniature was produced in 1571. What occurred between these years is uncertain but one thing is for sure, he had an exceptional talent in limning. At some point, Hilliard drew the attention of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester (1532-88) who was a favourite statesman of Queen Elizabeth I (1533-1603) and began producing miniatures for him in 1571. The following year, Hilliard was appointed limner to the queen.

Due to his royal connections, the first few years of Hilliard’s career as a painter of miniatures involved producing limnings for numerous wealthy courtiers and prosperous members of the middle class. Each miniature is either circular or ovular and averages between 44mm and 66mm in height. The National Portrait Gallery provides visitors with magnifying glasses for a closer study of each exhibit and it can only be assumed the artists used something similar in order to see what they were painting, particularly the caligraphy stating the sitter’s age and the year of production.

Many works are of unidentified men and women, however, some have been identified as important historical figures, beginning with his patron, Robert Dudley. As mentioned, Dudley was one of the Queen’s favourites and remained so for the first thirty years of her reign. He was the only serious contender for Elizabeth’s hand in marriage, however, he died without gaining her acceptance. Although Dudley wears black in Hilliard’s portrait, the jewelled chain around his neck emphasises his status.

From 1576 until 1578, Hilliard travelled to France in the retinue of Elizabeth I’s ambassador, Sir Amias Paulet (1532-88), the Governor of Jersey. It is thought that the queen sent Hilliard to produce a miniature of her French suitor François, Duc d’Anjou (1555-88), the younger brother of Henri III (1551-89). Whilst in France, Hilliard was employed as the valet-de-chambre (royal household painter) by François and set up a miniature and goldsmith workshop in Paris. It was at this time that Hilliard produced the recently discovered miniature of Henri III.

Another of Hilliard’s portraits during this period was of the teenage Francis Bacon (1561-1626) who had also been sent to accompany Paulet. Bacon’s fame came later when he was appointed Lord Chancellor to James I (1566-1625), however, he was already recognised for his advanced intelligence, emphasised by the miniature’s inscription: “If a worthy portrait were granted, I would prefer the mind.”

The highlight of Hilliard’s career was no doubt working for the queen herself. The exhibition displays a number of miniature portraits of Elizabeth I produced by Hilliard, including the only portrait of her playing an instrument (lute). The first miniature of the queen Hilliard produced was at the beginning of his career in 1572. For this, the queen sat for Hilliard but, later in his career, he was so familiar with Elizabeth’s face, he could paint her from memory.

Despite a brief sojourn in France, Hilliard continued to pick up new patrons. Hilliard’s miniatures became a fashionable part of court life and many people wished to have their face painted by him. Amongst these folk was Sir Christopher Hatton (1540-91), another favourite of Elizabeth I. This miniature was produced after Hatton had been appointed both Lord Chancellor (1587) and Knight of the Garter (1588), of which Hatton is wearing the collar and garter in his portrait.

Sir Walter Ralegh (1554-1618), yet another favourite of the queen, also had his miniature portrait painted by Hilliard. At the time, he was at the height of favour and often wrote poetry for Elizabeth I. Unfortunately, Ralegh was prone to rash behaviour and spent a lot of time imprisoned in the Tower of London and was eventually executed by James I for disobeying orders.

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Detail of a self-portrait of Isaac Oliver

Whilst the 1580s and 90s were Hilliard’s busiest decades in terms of commissions, he also trained a number of apprentices and assistants, including Isaac Oliver. Unlike Hilliard, Oliver did not immediately fall on his feet and his portraits of Elizabeth I were not admired as much as those of his teacher.

Oliver was born in Rouen, France but moved to England at the age of three when his Huguenot parents, Peter and Epiphany Oliver, fled from the Wars of Religion. Little is known about his life, except that he had three wives: Elizabeth (d.1599), Sara and Susannah de Critz. The latter was the daughter of Troilus de Critz, a goldsmith from Antwerp, and a close relative to the queen’s Serjeant-Painter.

Isaac Oliver’s career was slow starting but this changed with the patronage of Robert Devereux (1565-1601), 2nd Earl of Essex, the final favourite of Elizabeth I. As well as painting Devereux, Oliver painted the friends within his patron’s circle and began to rise in popularity in court. Oliver produced the first miniature from a sitting, however, often produced replicas later in his studio. Of all his non-royal sitters, there are more miniature’s of Devereux than any other.

When James I ascended the English throne in 1603, Oliver began to pick up new patrons, including Lucy Harrington (1580-1627), Countess of Bedford who he painted numerous times. Another often painted patron was Ludovick Stuart (1574-1624), a relation of James I who was the only non-royal duke in Britain at the time of the king’s ascension. Unlike Hilliard who preferred to concentrate on the finery and jewellery of his sitters, Oliver focused on facial features, particularly the beards in his portraits of men. Ludovick’s beard, when looked at through a magnifying glass, can be seen as a series of tiny curling lines in various shades of brown.

Commissions for Oliver increased rapidly during James I’s reign; the king required portraits for political and diplomatic purposes, and miniatures were often given as gifts during the peace negotiations with Spain in 1604. Unlike Elizabeth who only provided her painters with an annual salary, James I also paid for each commission as well as paying for their jewelled cases, some of which were made by Hilliard.

Whilst James may have prefered Hilliard’s portraits, his wife and queen consort Anne of Denmark (1574-1619) appointed Oliver as her “Painter for the art of limning”, paying him £40 a year, the same amount Hilliard received. As a result, both artists were commissioned to paint miniatures of Anne and the children: Henry, Prince of Wales (1594-1612); Princess Elizabeth (1596-1662); and Charles, Duke of York (1600-49).

Most of Oliver’s portraits of Anne show her seated in the same position, right hand upon her breast. This could be because Oliver used his first portrait of her as a template for others, however, the changing style of costume, hair and the contours of her face suggest that she sat for him more often than not.

Miniatures of Prince Henry show him in military wear, promising a future warrior-king. Unfortunately, Henry died from typhoid fever at the age of 18, making his younger brother Charles, whose miniatures had been less elaborate, heir to the throne.

Although the main focus of Elizabethan Treasures was the miniature art form, both Hilliard and Oliver worked on other things during their careers. They both produced a handful of full body portraits of men listlessly leaning, sitting or lying in gardens. Often with a head leaning upon a hand, these portraits represented the fashionable complaint of “Melancholy.” Melancholy was usually associated with philosophical thought but was also said to be caused by disappointment in love.

Of the two, Oliver produced more non-portraits than Hilliard, beginning with his earliest work, a drawing of Lamentation over the Dead Christ, now owned by the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge. Over time, Oliver produced many drawings of a religious or mythological nature, although it is not known whether these were studies for intended artworks or finished pieces. Occasionally, Oliver produced miniatures of this nature for collectors, including the head and shoulders of Jesus Christ and a portrait of the Roman goddess Diana.

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Unknown Young Man against a Background of Flames – Hilliard, c.1600

For those lucky enough to attend the exhibition when magnifying glasses are available, it is fascinating to see the intricate details in these tiny portraits. Not only did Hilliard and Oliver produce exceptional likenesses, but they also executed them at such a small scale. Yet, a miniature is not necessarily only a portrait, they are full of symbolism.

In paintings of royalty or members of the royal court, there are clear examples of symbols, for instance, jewels, garters and crowns. Some represented promotions and triumphs and others emphasised the sitter’s status. In other miniatures, however, there are deeper, more secret symbols.

A popular form of symbol was an impresse, which combined imagery with a written motto. These words could be as simple as a name or heraldry, or as obscure as a private pun. Unfortunately, the latter makes it difficult to understand the intention of the miniature.

Yet, not all symbolic miniatures included an impresse. Of a more suggestive nature, Hilliard’s Unknown Young Man against a Background of Flames (c.1600) does not need words to explain its symbolism. The unknown man wears an unbuttoned shirt and holds a jewel whilst the burning flames of passionate love fill up the background. Needless to say, this was a very private portrait and is thought to be a gift for the man’s sweetheart. To emphasise desire and passion, Hilliard highlighted the flames in gold, so that if the portrait is twisted from side to side, the flames appear to flicker – something that is lost as it sits stationary in a display cabinet.

Compared by their contemporaries to Michelangelo and Raphael, Nicholas Hilliard and Isaac Oliver are without a doubt two of the greatest painters from the Elizabethan and Jacobean ages. For many, these two names will be unfamiliar and yet they were the leading limners in a highly admirable art genre. Elizabethan Treasures introduces the artists to a new generation and allows their work to once again be appreciated. Some of these works may not have been intended for public consumption and visitors should feel privileged to be able to view them in close up detail.

The downside about an exhibition of miniature portraits is that in order to see them, visitors must stand up close to the display cabinet, blocking the view of those behind them. As a result, it takes a while to see everything in the exhibition, especially if you want to look at items in more detail with a magnifying glass. Nonetheless, it is an exhibition of great worth.

Elizabethan Treasures: Miniatures by Hilliard and Oliver is open daily until 19th May 2019. Tickets are £10 (£8.50 concessions) and, as always, members of the National Portrait Gallery can view the exhibition for free.

Gainsborough’s Family Album

Since the beginning of the 20th century, family photo albums have documented the lives of families and individuals, often providing a visual narrative of the birth and ageing of different generations. Before the advent of photography, however, family albums did not exist and only an elite privileged few could afford to have their lives documented by portrait artists. In the 18th century, only royalty had the means to commission family portraits, with the exception of one man: Thomas Gainsborough (1727-88).

Primarily a landscape painter, Gainsborough painted and drew portraits of his immediate and extended family throughout his lifetime. Amounting to at least 50 artworks, the National Portrait Gallery has chosen to chart the career of one of Britain’s greatest painters from youth to maturity in their winter exhibition Gainsborough’s Family Album. Set out in chronological order, the paintings show the people who meant a lot to Gainsborough, particularly his daughters who grow from young children to beautiful, independent women.

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Self-portrait with his wife Margaret and eldest daughter Mary

The exhibition begins with The Artist with his Wife and Eldest Daughter Mary, which Gainsborough painted at the age of 22 shortly before his daughter died in her second year of life. Principally a landscape painter, preferring them over “damn’d faces”, Gainsborough combined the two genres in this painting, as he does with a handful of other portraits, to create a composition that portrays the couple as fashionable gentlefolk enjoying the countryside. Despite being middle-class, the outfits and posture of Gainsborough and his family suggest their aspirations to gentility.

Thomas Gainsborough was born in Sudbury, Suffolk in 1727, the youngest son of a large family. Some of his brothers and sisters feature in portraits throughout the exhibition as well as their own children. As a child as young as ten, Thomas impressed his father with his drawing ability and was allowed to leave home in 1740 to seek an apprenticeship in London. Under the tutelage of the Frenchman Hubert-François Bourguignon (1699-1733), more commonly known as Gravelot, Gainsborough initially studied engraving. Nonetheless, his passion for painting thrived after he became associated with William Hogarth (1697-1764). Like Hogarth, some of Gainsborough’s work was produced for the Foundling Hospital set up by the philanthropic sea captain Thomas Coram (1668-1751) in 1739.

Not all of Gainsborough’s siblings feature in the exhibition, but those that do show off his skill at capturing likenesses. Although a landscape artist at heart, Gainsborough often focused solely on the faces, leaving the clothing unfinished and the backgrounds bare. It is thought Gainsborough may have deliberately left these incomplete to distinguish between private and commissioned work. On the other hand, Gainsborough’s main focus would have been on commissioned works, resulting in private portraits being abandoned.

A self-portrait from 1759 shows the type of backgrounds Gainsborough combined with portraits should he have the time or inclination to finish them. His painting of his brother Humphrey, however, represents the unfinished look of many of Gainsborough’s works in this exhibition. Unlike the elaborate outfits popular at the time, Humphrey, a non-conformist minister, wears black and looks piously into the distance. Susan Gardiner, however, the daughter of his sister Susanna, has a tenser facial expression, perhaps caused by the boredom of posing for too long.

Later in his career, Gainsborough painted his sister Sarah, also known as Sally, in highly fashionable attire. Being twelve years older than her brother, Sally is getting on in years, evidenced by her greying hair, partially hidden under a lace cap. Positioned next to her on the wall at the National Portrait Gallery is her husband, Philip Dupont. Unlike Sally, Gainsborough painted his brother-in-law wearing drab, unfashionable clothing, suggesting unfavourable feelings between the two men.

Other paintings of members of Gainsborough’s large family include his father John, the postmaster of Sudbury; his cousin Henry Burrough, the vicar of Wisbech; his brother John, also known as Scheming Jack due to his money-making ways, his sister Susanna; and Susanna’s son Edward. Interestingly, the portrait of an unnamed youth referred to as The Pitminster Boy, is also included amongst the family portraits. The boy would have worked as a servant for the artist, responsible for carrying painting equipment whenever Gainsborough desired to paint en plein air. During the 18th century, the term “family” was much broader than today’s sense, encompassing non-blood relations, servants and other members of the household.

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Margaret Gainsborough, the Artist’s Wife 1777

In 1746, Gainsborough married Margaret Burr, an illegitimate daughter of Henry Somerset-Scudamore, 3rd Duke of Beaufort (1707-1745). Margaret and Gainsborough’s relationship was not at its best for the majority of their lives, however, it improved in later years. Most portraits of Margaret were produced in the latter period and Gainsborough began gifting Margaret a small painting of herself annually on their wedding anniversary.

In all her portraits, Margaret is fashionably dressed, such as the 1777 painting produced for her 50th birthday where she wears a black mantilla. In this particular artwork, Gainsborough sits his wife in the pose of a classic statue of Pudicity, the goddess of modesty and chastity, or wifely virtue.

Initially, the married couple lived in Sudbury, but in 1752, they moved to Ipswich along with their two daughters, Mary (1750-1826), named for her deceased older sister, and Margaret (1752-1820), named for her mother. During his time in the county town, Gainsborough began to receive more commissions for private portraits, however, the majority of these clients were local merchants and squires and, therefore, did not pay generously for the artworks.

Gainsborough’s situation gradually improved after moving to Bath, the largest city in Somerset, where he was inspired by the paintings of Sir Anthony van Dyck (1599-1641). Gainsborough admired the Flemish baroque painter so much, viewing his paintings as examples of perfection. Reportedly, Gainsborough’s final words on his deathbed in 1788 were “van Dyck was right”.

Whilst in Bath, Gainsborough began to attract a more fashionable clientele, thus his financial situation began to recover. He began submitting paintings to the Society of Arts exhibition in London, now known as the Royal Academy of Arts, of which he was a founding member along with Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723-92). Whilst these exhibitions gave him national recognition, Gainsborough eventually broke away from the Royal Academy, unhappy with the ways in which his paintings were being displayed.

The Gainsborough family’s final move was to London in 1774, where they resided in Schomberg House, Pall Mall, in which he held his first private exhibition in 1784. Whilst continuing to enjoy landscape painting, Gainsborough’s portraits were now of some of the most elite people in the country. These included Johann Christian Bach (1735-82), the youngest son of the famous composer, George III (1738-1820) and Charlotte, the Queen Consort (1744-1818).

Of all his family members, none feature so much in this exhibition than his daughters Mary and Margaret. From young children to independent ladies, Gainsborough documents the changes in their appearance as they grow up, the same way a parent would record their child’s progress with a camera today. Mostly, the girls are shown together, suggesting they got on amicably.

The earliest painting of the two girls together is the lifesize The Painter’s Daughters Chasing a Butterfly. Set in the light of the summer evening, it is a representation of childhood spontaneity. The landscape in the background almost looks otherworldly, suggesting that in their young minds they are in a fairytale world rather than their back garden. The youngest daughter Margaret, who would have been three or four years old at the time, reaches out to touch a butterfly. Mary, on the other hand, tries to pull her sister away, noticing that the butterfly is perched on a prickly thistle. Perhaps, being older, Mary is more aware of the world around her than Margaret.

Other paintings of the young girls remain unfinished, such as the one their father began in 1759. Also known as The Artist’s Daughters playing with a Cat, the cat in question is hard to see, the outline is only faintly drawn in. Another unfinished portrait of Mary and Margaret shows the older of the two adjusting the other’s hair. Although Gainsborough is remarkably observant in his oil painting, the picture was damaged after being cut in half, trimmed and wrongly reassembled by a Victorian collector. Rather than being eye to eye, Mary would originally have been taller than her younger sister.

Gainsborough was lucky to have two such willing child models to paint during his early career. As well as portraits in general, Gainsborough experimented with a genre known as fancy painting. This was a type of 18th-century art that portrayed scenes of everyday life but with components of imagination or storytelling. Gainsborough’s fancy paintings usually involved peasant or beggar children, for example, the portrait of Margaret dressed up as a gleaner picking grain in the fields. Similarly to the previous painting, this one was cut in half and the section containing Mary, who presumably was also dressed as a farm worker, has been lost.

As the girls got older, Gainsborough worried about their economic security and tried to get them interested in landscape painting so that they could make a living. Although neither girl became a painter, one portrait of them shows that they were encouraged to practice drawing. In The Artist’s Daughters at their Drawing, the adolescent sisters retain some of the child-like facial features but their fashionable clothing suggests they are getting ever closer to maturity. This painting was also a compositional experiment for Gainsborough who originally painted Margaret facing her sister. A ghostly figure of this first attempt is beginning to show through the top layer of paint.

By the end of the exhibition, Mary and Margaret Gainsborough have grown into beautiful women and, although they did not fulfil their father’s dream of becoming painters, lived independently from their parents. A full-length painting shows them as fashionable women of society. Mary, perhaps being older, wears the grander dress, however, Margaret’s clothing is also of good quality. Dogs in paintings are often used to represent fidelity and no doubt this was Gainsborough’s aim in this image. The sisters remained loyal to each other throughout their whole lives. Margaret never married and Mary’s marriage to the oboeist Johann Christian Fischer (1733-1800), an associate of her father, only lasted a disastrous few months. As a result, Mary developed severe mental health problems and was looked after by Margaret for the rest of their lives.

Throughout Gainsborough’s career, he only took on one apprentice, Gainsborough Dupont (1754-97), the eldest son of his sister Sarah. Beginning in 1772, Dupont began working for Gainsborough and continued to do so until the latter’s death in 1788. Dupont was a student of the Royal Academy schools and his artwork is similar in style to his uncle. It is thought that Dupont finished a few of Gainsborough’s paintings.

Inspired by van Dyck’s paintings and the style of dress worn during the 17th century, Gainsborough painted his teenaged apprentice in a silk blue outfit similar to those painted by his hero. Critics looked on this painting favourably claiming it to be an example of modern painting at its finest. Philip Thicknesse (1719-92), a British author and friend of Gainsborough, announced the painting was “more like the work of God than man.”

Gainsborough painted another portrait of his apprentice after he had been accepted by the Royal Academy schools in which he looks like a fashionably dressed young man. Although it is not a finished work of art, it is one that Gainsborough was particularly pleased with. Before he died, he placed the portrait on his easel as if to say that was what he wished to be remembered for.

As well as portraits of his family, Gainsborough produced a few of himself, including an early attempt of himself wearing a tricorn hat. It is interesting to see how he ages, or at least how Gainsborough sees himself at different ages. Without photographs, it is impossible to determine how he truly looked, however, the exhibition includes a portrait of the artist by Johann Zoffany (1733-1810), which suggests Gainsborough captured a good likeness.

Similarly to present day family albums, Gainsborough also produced paintings of his pets. Titled Tristram and Fox, although whether this is the correct title is debatable, Gainsborough produced remarkably realistic depictions of two of the family pets. Fox, a spitz, sits on the left and is the more dominant of the two dogs, which may say something about his character. Tristram, on the other hand, a spaniel, is slightly hidden due to his dark colouring.

Art historian Michael Rosenthal (b1950) describes Gainsborough as “one of the most technically proficient and, at the same time, most experimental artists of his time.” Unfortunately, Gainsborough believed he had not reached his true potential, as he explained to Sir Joshua Reynolds on his deathbed shortly before he died from terminal cancer. Gainsborough wished his paintings to be judged in comparison to the standard of van Dyck, which blinded him to his own talent.

The National Portrait Gallery shows the British painter from a new and unique perspective. Rather than concentrating on skill, style or life achievements as many other exhibitions do, the NPG has created a much more personal display. As well as being able to appreciate his artwork, visitors are introduced to the artist himself and his family. It tells the story of Thomas Gainsborough’s life, both his career and life at home.

With a five star rating from more than one major newspaper, Gainsborough’s Family Album is a must-see for 18th-century art lovers. Focusing on portraits, the artist’s landscape talents also shine through. Although the exhibition lacks Gainsborough’s most famous works, there are enough paintings of extraordinary beauty to make up for this.

Gainsborough’s Family Album will be showing at the National Portrait Gallery until 3rd February 2019 in the Wolfson Gallery. Tickets cost £14 but members of the gallery may visit for free.

The Foundling Museum

Where artists and children have inspired each other since 1740

Charities play a vital role in societies throughout the world. Thanks to volunteers and funding, many lives have been changed for the better. From international organisations to independent health-focused charities, so much is being done in an attempt to improve the conditions of those less fortunate. Coram is the UKs leading charity in the field of adoption services and dates back to the 1700s when it was first established as The Foundling Hospital by a man named Thomas Coram.

Thomas Coram was concerned about the desperate poverty on the streets of London, particularly in the case of children. At the beginning of the 18th century, 75% of children under five died as a result of neglect or disease due to the increasing destitute state of Londoners.

Although the idea of charity organisations existed across the continent, Britain had yet to jump on the bandwagon. Therefore, thanks to Coram’s determination, the first charity was born. By taking in babies from mothers without the means to look after them, The Foundling Hospital greatly improved and saved the lives of thousands of children.

The hospital continued to protect children from the disease-ridden streets until the 1900s when attitudes towards children’s emotional needs changed. In 1953, the hospital ceased to take in children, instead,  renaming themselves the Thomas Coram Foundation for Children, focused on nursery, welfare and foster services. Now shortened to Coram, the charity is registered as an adoption agency and continues to give the best possible start in life for as many children as possible.

The original buildings of The Foundling Hospital no longer exist, however, the headquarters in Brunswick Square, which opened in 1939, does. As of June 2004, this building has been open to the public and renamed The Foundling Museum.

The Foundling Museum contains a wealth of knowledge about the original hospital, its patrons and its former pupils. In order to fund the charity, artists donated works to be exhibited to members of the public, thus creating London’s first art gallery. The most important supporter from the initial conception was painter and engraver William Hogarth (1697-1764). Having had a precarious childhood himself, Hogarth was eager to become part of a charity for children of the poor. He donated several artworks, including the hospital’s first piece, a portrait of Thomas Coram. Another of Hogarth’s paintings The March of the Guards to Finchley (1750) was also donated. Both are on display in the museum.

William Hogarth was also involved with the design of some sections of the original hospital – a few of which have been preserved and re-erected in the museum’s building. He also designed the Foundling Hospital Coat of Arms (1747), which was proudly displayed above the entrance to the residence.

It was not only painters who contributed towards The Foundling Hospital, musicians and composers were also eager to play a part. Alongside Hogarth, George Frideric Handel (1685-1759) was significantly valuable to the hospital. Handel’s support began in 1749 when he offered to conduct a benefit concert. The audience included a great number of distinctive people including the Prince and Princess of Wales. Over 1000 people attended and, amongst some of Handel’s known works, the Foundling Hospital Anthem, written by the composer himself, was performed for the first time. A year later, Handel conducted another benefit concert, this time performing his famous Messiah.

Handel’s Messiah became a significant musical work for The Foundling Hospital, being performed on an annual basis. Collectively, these concerts raised £7000, which today would be worth well over a million. On Handel’s death in 1759, a copy of the score was left to the hospital in his will, so that the charity could continue benefitting from the concerts for years to come.

The Museum celebrates Handel’s life and his contribution to the charity with his very own gallery located on the top floor of the building. As well as a portrait and plaster bust, the room displays items relating to the conductor and his Messiah. Most importantly, protected behind a screen, are the original will and codicils signed by Handel, stating his bequest to The Foundling Hospital.  

The donated artwork takes up most of the space in the museum, lining the walls of rooms and staircases. Nevertheless, part of the ground floor has been devoted to the history of the hospital. In glass cases, are clothing, bedding, crockery, receipts, registers and so forth belonging to the original inhabitants of The Foundling Hospital. Most noteworthy are the cabinets containing tokens that mothers left with their babies.

From the moment the hospital doors were open, the greatest care was taken in noting all the items that arrived with each child, a physical description and any significant marks to distinguish which child belonged to which mother in the event of a reunion in the future.  However, as children grew, their features would alter, making it more difficult to prove identity. Since names were changed in order to respect the mother’s anonymity, the hospital encouraged the parents to leave a token of some sort for the child to keep, from which any future claims could be accurately affirmed.

The tokens on display show an example of the range of items used to identify children. Each is unique in some way, be it a piece of embroidery, an item of jewellery or a disfigured or personalised coin with a name or number etched into it. It is amazing that these did not go astray during the children’s lives at the hospital, and that so many still remain intact today.

Although photographs exist of the hospital’s later years, paintings are relied on to understand the situation during the 18th century. The majority of the paintings, particularly those along the staircase, are portraits of governors and other notable names associated with The Foundling Hospital. Yet, hidden in certain rooms, are remarkable scenes depicting life in and around the hospital. A particular series of note can be found in the Committee Room alongside Hogarth’s The March of the Guards to Finchley. 

Emma Brownlow (1832-1905) produced a series of four paintings that reveal the life at The Foundling Hospital. Initially, it may come as a surprise that a woman of that era had the opportunity to study and paint in oils, however, on learning her father was John Brownlow, one of the hospital’s secretaries and ex-foundling, it becomes clear why Emma was such a reliable source of accurate representation. Growing up around the foundlings, Emma was able to illustrate the uniforms, the admission system, the infirmary, and the emotions and behaviour of the children. More of Emma Brownlow’s paintings can be found elsewhere in the museum.

Emma’s father, the aforementioned John Brownlow, had some correspondence with the author, Charles Dickens, who, like him, had a difficult childhood and was ashamed of his upbringing. It is thought that Dickens used both his own experiences and his observances at The Foundling Hospital to accurately portray his celebrated characters.

The paintings of The Foundling Hospital and its patrons add to the historical knowledge imparted by the museum. The Court Room, however, contains four large artworks that are metaphorical rather than representational. These illustrate stories of the benevolence and deliverance of children in either religion, mythology or history. The artists liken the foundling children to biblical characters such as Moses and Ishmael, and one chose to paint Little Children Brought to Christ (James Wills, 1746) to emphasise the importance of all children.

The most famous artist displayed in the Court Room is, of course, William Hogarth with his Moses Brought Before Pharaoh’s Daughter (1746). Assuming most people know the famous Bible story, the significance of this scene is the similarity of the return of Moses to his adopted mother from his wet nurse (his real mother), with the way in which the foundlings lived the first five years of their lives. After passing medical tests, babies were sent to responsible wet nurses in the country to be fed and looked after, until, at the age of five, they returned to the hospital to live and attend school.

Just like for visitors during the 1760s, famous artworks are on show for everyone to see. Despite The Foundling Hospital’s closure, the charity (Coram) is still running, therefore artists are continuing to donate artwork to be included in what is now the museum. The basement of the building contains the perfect space for temporary exhibitions for 21st-century artists to showcase work influenced by stories and history of the foundlings.

Well-known names such as Tracey Emin, Quentin Blake and David Shrigley have all appeared in exhibitions during the past ten years. Incidentally, the most famous and popular of all the displays is the current presentation of Jacqueline Wilson’s Hetty Feather. Written during 2008 and recently adapted for television, Hetty Feather tells the story of a courageous 19th-century foundling, bringing the past alive for 21st-century children.

Picturing Hetty Feather is running until 3rd September 2017, converging with the school summer holidays so that all Jacqueline Wilson fans around London can attend. Props and costumes from the CBBC production are on display with the opportunity for children to dress up as a foundling and sit in a typical 19th-century classroom. The opportunity to view an interview with the famous author is available, and it is impossible to miss the illustrations by the respected Nick Sharratt.

There is something for everyone at The Foundling Museum to appease children, historians and art aficionados alike. Immersed in history, the museum tells a positive story of a cause that has developed and shaped the way children in care are treated today. Oftentimes, comments are made about the lack of modern techniques that could have prevented disasters of the past, but in spite of the absence of digital technology, the founders and governors, particularly Coram, Hogarth and Handel, were dedicated enough to create a highly successful charity.

The Foundling Museum is open every day except Mondays, charging £8.25 (£5.50 concessions), with an added £3 for the temporary exhibition. Children and National Trust members are welcome free of charge.

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Untitled, David Shrigley, 2012