“Every portrait exposes a truth that rides on the inherent lies.” This frightening truth revealed by Debra Brehmer in her article “Every Portrait Tells a Lie,” is something I think about quite often. This year in particular was my senior prom and high school graduation. My parents probably took upwards of 5000 photos, trying very hard to document these moments that could never be repeated. By the 5000th photo, I may have finally gotten the picture perfect smile plastered across my face, yet I did not feel any joy; my eyes were practically screaming for help with the flash going off every three seconds, and my back was on the verge of giving out after pretending to have perfect posture for several hours.
Although not displayed in the article “John Singer Sargent” by Sarah Churchwell, Churchwell does mention Madame X, one of Sargent’s portraits that I had interpreted yesterday. The portrait sparked major controversy among the French Public over her pose and Sargent’s apparent misuse of space.
Madame X
Sargent expressed his concern to his friend Vernon Lee that he was “struggling with the unpaintable beauty and hopeless laziness” of his model. However, Sargent overcame this obstacle by “fusing techniques from Velázquez, Titian and Manet, as well as [his] then fashionable interest in Japanese art.” With Brehmer’s notion that “every portrait tells a lie,” it made me curious; if he had no problem toying with the artistic style of his portrait, I am convinced that he took certain liberties of adjusting the real position of his sitter’s pose. And if he did take these liberties, it was an amazing decision as Madame X became Sargent’s best and most famous work of all time.
Critics could argue that manipulating the reality of portraits or photographs like adjusting a pose, or smiling when you’re unhappy is tampering with the true beauty of reality. But so what if I smile in a picture when I had a miserable day? So what if I smile in a picture when I am dressed uncomfortably in suit at some formal event in which I don’t even know the host? I know the true story behind the photo, and to me, that is far more interesting than a fake smile. Besides, a fake smile puts the cherry on top of a captured memory; if “every portrait tells a lie,” then every story reveals the truth.
I agree with you that although there is a sort of a “fake” feeling we get when we pose for pictures, the outcome and looking back the “fake” scene that we created may actually become our reality. Also I saw Sargents portrait Madam X ass preview to the futuristic art style that Sargent displays. Madam X was ahead of its time and because of that it may have generated the popularity and name of the portrait due to it being criticized rather than just popularity and fame.
I really found that your last paragraph made a strong argument that I did not really consider beforehand. It is true that the story behind a photograph is meant to be known and interpreted by it’s owner, and if it is posed, it should not matter as it is meant to be remembered that way. Do you think this still resonates with artwork? Is the audience able to grasp the truth behind the story of a piece even though they can only see the painting in front of them? Or is the point for different interpretations to be created by each individual?