A striking feature of a country house is often its vast portrait collection. What are the reasons for this?
A portrait is an image where the artist is engaged with the personality of the sitter and aims to characterise them as an individual. People of consequence have commissioned portraits of themselves in order to commemorate their achievements and to showcase their status. Portraits serve to distinguish individuals from the masses and as such are products of a conscious intent to portray.[1] Consequently, they embody the beliefs and notions of both the sitter and the artist, and can tell us much about society at the period in which they were painted.
It was during the seventeenth century that painting first truly flourished in Britain. Henry VIII had patronised Holbein, and it is Holbein’s portraits of the king that have endured as an iconic image. Yet Elizabeth and James I had not been much concerned with the patronage of the arts. However, Charles I (1600-1649) became the greatest Royal collector and patron of the arts that Britain has ever seen. He concentrated on finding a portrait painter who would create images to embody his belief in the Divine Right of Kings, but that were also technically and visually brilliant. He principal portrait painter, the Flemish artist Anthony Van Dyck, was set to become the most pervasive influence on British art. As a result of his influence, by the eighteenth century there was a strong native school of painting giving rise to artists such as Kneller, Lely, Hudson, Reynolds, Gainsborough and Raeburn. This era has become known as The Golden Age of British portraiture.[2]
The artist and writer Jonathan Richardson set forth the aims of portraiture in 1715:
This is to raise the character: to divest an unbred person of his rusticity, and give him something at least of a gentleman. To make one of a moderate share of good sense appear to have a competency, a wise man to be more wise, and a brave man to be more so, a modest discreet woman to have an air something angelical, and so of the rest; and then to add that joy, or peace of mind at least, and in such a manner as is suitable to the several characters, is absolutely necessary to a good facepainter . . .’[3]
This explains why the aristocracy were represented in such a flattering light and why portraiture was concerned with the expression of status. However, it was not only the sitter who was concerned with the pursuit of social status. In 1755, the French commentator André Rouquet observed the practice of portraiture in England:
A portrait painter in England makes his fortune in a very extraordinary manner. As soon as he has obtained a certain degree of reputation, he hires a house fit for a person of distinction; then he assumes an air of importance and superiority over the rest of his profession, depending less on his personal abilities to support this superiority than on the credit of some powerful friend, or some woman of quality, whose protection he has purchased, and which he sometimes courts, not much to his honour. His aim then is not so much to paint well, as to paint a great deal . . . When a portrait painter happens to have a little business, it is usual for him to employ other hands in the painting of the drapery . . . This kind of practice supposes a prodigious number of portraits, and indeed it is amazing how fond the English are of having their pictures drawn . . .’[4]
We can see just how firmly embedded social beliefs about status could be in the production of portraits. The aims and practice of portraiture therefore shaped the definition of a portrait. Richardson stated that ‘a portrait is a sort of General History of the Life of the Person it represents.’[5] As such, when studying a portrait it is crucial to examine who is portrayed, in what guise and for what purpose.[6] Bernard Berenson (1865-1959), the famous American art historian, argued for a distinction within British portraiture and spoke of the ‘effigy’ as the central focus for portrait painters. While a portrait is the ‘rendering of an individual in terms of decoration, and of the individuality of the inner man as well as of his social standing’, the effigy ‘aims at the social aspects of the subject, emphasises the soldierliness of the soldier, the judiciousness of the judge, the clericality of the cleric, the self-importance of the business or professional man.’ He concludes that the ‘effigy prevails over the portrait, and the more a portrait is like an effigy, the more popular it is . . .’[7] Susan Morris adds to this notion, stating that portraits are a mass of pent-up emotions, events, comments and personalities.[8] Essentially portraits reflect social realities. This is because their imagery is a result of the conventions of behaviour and appearance particular to society at a certain time, and is defined by categories of race, gender, age, physical beauty, class, social and civic status, and occupation.[9]
Portraiture was viewed as a literary art and a moral force, revealing the character, status and history of a sitter. A portrait was a means by which the individual could be made to reflect internal qualities, thus legitimising the self. Yet from the outset three actors are involved in the painting process: the sitter, the artist and the viewers. As a rule, the sitter desires to be portrayed in a flattering way, guided by personal and social definitions of desirable self-images. At the same time, the portrait should reveal the physical appearance and character of the sitter. As the portrait is intended for posterity, legitimation tools are used to create this record of a person.[10] This means that the viewers’ response is critical in the outcome of the painting; the artist must fulfil the wishes of the sitter accurately as the communicator to the intended audience.
However, portraiture was heavily criticised by contemporaries in previous centuries as it was believed to be the lowliest form of painting. In contrast history painting, which included the painting of religious scenes, was believed to be fulfilling and morally just, as well as imaginative and improving upon nature, but portraiture was seen as merely vanity. In 1817, Benjamin Robert Haydon, at that time an idealistic young artist, wrote in 1817, who was trying to succeed as a history painter, wrote that ‘Portraiture is always independent of art . . . It is one of the staple manufactures of empire. Wherever the British settle, wherever they colonise, they carry and will ever carry trial by jury, horse-racing, and portrait-painting’.[11] This quotation serves to emphasise the portrait as a means of projecting status and authority. We can suggest that Haydon viewed portraiture as a form of propaganda, which indeed was certainly one of the motivations behind the portrait commissions of monarchs such as Charles I. Portraiture can in this sense be compared to a mirror – while it does not show a pure vision of reality, it is still a reflection. It is precisely this process of distortion which can reveal identities, mentalities and ideologies.[12] As a result, it is key to emphasise the importance of the sitter or collector’s personality, their political and cultural networks and their relationships. Therefore, the portraits within a country house were displayed to project the status of their owners, and their political and social connections.
One of my favourite portraits is Mr and Mrs Andrews by Thomas Gainsborough. The background evokes Mr Andrews’ estate, while style of the portrait is known as a ‘conversation piece’, which was a fashionable convention of the era. This along with the rococo-style bench reveals that the Andrews were keen to present themselves as people of money and fashion.
Thomas Gainsborough, Mr and Mrs Andrews, c. 1750; oil on canvas; 69.8 x 119.4cm; The National Gallery, London; acc. no NG6301. Image courtesy of the National Gallery. http://www.artuk.org/artworks/mr-and-mrs-andrews-114774
[1] Richard Brilliant, ‘Portraiture’, Encyclopedia of Aesthetics. <http://oxfordartonline.com.ezproxy3.lib.le.ac.uk/subscriber/article/opr/t234/e0413>.
[2] Robin Gibson and Keith Roberts, British Portrait Painters (London, 1971), p. 6.
[3] Jonathan Richardson, An Essay on the Theory of Painting (London, 1715), p. 185.
[4] André Rouquet, The Present State of the Arts in England (London, 1755), p. 45.
[5] Jonathan Richardson, An Essay on the Whole Art of Criticism as it Relates to Painting and an Argument in Behalf of the Science of a Connoisseur (London, 1719), p. 45.
[6] Richard Wendorf, The Elements of Life: Biography and Portrait Painting in Stuart and Georgian England (Oxford, 1990), p. 19.
[7] Bernard Berenson, ‘The Effigy and the Portrait’, Aesthetics and History in the Visual Arts (London, 1950), pp. 188-189.
[8] Susan Morris, Using Portraits (London, 1989), p. 3.
[9] Richard Brilliant, Portraiture (London, 1991), p. 11.
[10] Gary Alan and Nancy Wisely, ‘Making faces: portraiture as a negotiated worker-client relationship’, Work and Occupations 24 (2), 1997, p. 187.
[11] Benjamin Robert Haydon, The Autobiography and Journals of Benjamin Robert Haydon (London, 1850), p. 350.
[12] Peter Burke, Eyewitnessing: The Uses of Images as Historical Evidence (London, 2007), p. 30.
To the Manor Unborn 