Category: Every Portrait/Sargent Made a Scene (Page 1 of 2)

It is interesting to note how controversial art can be. We take for granted the idea that controversial art is a new thing, when in fact it is not. Part of the beauty of art is how it can entice outrage and stir emotion. The work of John Singer Sargent is a perfect example.

Sarah Churchwell in her January 2015 article for The Guardian, “How John Singer Sargent Made a Scene,” makes clear how his most well known painting, Madame X, “inspired outrage, creating a succes de scandale when it was exhibited at the 1884 Paris Salon. Reviews either objected to Madame Gautreau’s appearance (some complaining at the powder-blue pallor of her skin, others at the depth of her decolletage or the shockingly wanton shoulder strap allowed to fall suggestively loose) or hailed the modernity of Sargent’s technique.”

Perhaps one of the many reasons art can be so controversial is because of a disconnect between the creator and audience. This disconnect is highlighted by Debra Brehmer’s October 2010 article, “Every Portrait Tells a Lie,” where she affirms, “When looking at portraits, think of this: Every portrait exposes a truth that rides on the inherent lies. Our existence is transitional and subjective and this is the condition that portraiture tries to absolve.” In other words, a portrait is inherently based on the painter’s perspective, and this is only more convoluted when one mixes in their personal perspective of the painter’s perspective.

This raises the question as to whether or not art can be appreciated from and objective or universal point of view. I would argue no because beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Perhaps a thousand years or so ago art could be defined as good or bad objectively based on how accurate to real life a painting may or may not have been, but with the invention of the camera and the growth of art movements such as impressionism this is no longer the case. The question we all must contemplate now is whether or not that is a good thing. I believe it is a great thing, and I hope you do too.

Every Portrait Tells a Lie by Debra Brehmer opens with the bold statement, “Every portrait tells a story and that story usually involves some kind of lie.” Just like a picture, a portrait is almost guaranteed to be thoughtfully put together and composed beforehand. It allows for an ideal “scene” to be created by the artist and captured in the painting; one that will last a lifetime. Therefore, I agree with Brehmer that a portrait it is a false representation, most oftentimes, of the reality of the subject(s) that instead depicts them in an optimal light chosen by artist and patron.

Immediately, I connected this belief to Pablo Picasso and his idea that “…art is not truth. Art is a lie that makes us realize truth at least the truth that is given us to understand.” What Picasso is saying is that all art is unreal because it is not the original physical form or idea of the object that it portrays. Although this is a different concept than Brehmer, they connect more in his second sentence. A portrait, in fact, is an expression of the subject in a manner that we are meant to believe as being true. Take her example, for instance, of a family christmas photo. She describes this particular one, shown to the left, and remembers the feeling of taking the photograph as inauthentic. Despite the two siblings smiling together in front of the camera, they had probably been fighting just seconds before it had been taken. They did not get along, as the image suggests. “This interaction between kids, dad and camera was as close as anything came to family intimacy and I knew, even at a young age, that we were participating in a history that was manufactured.” This further proves her point that everything is not as it seems in a portraiture representation.

Unlike the first reading, in How John Singer Sargent Made a Scene the author focuses not on the distorted concepts that Sargent’s pieces were created upon but on the style in which they were made and the reaction that they received by critics. But, it is important to note that by calling it a “scene” that is developed in a painting, the author admits that “Sargent’s subjects were often posed” and would most likely agree somewhat with Brehmer’s argument of the deceit of portraiture. This author focuses more, though, on how ahead of his time Sargent had been with his creative mind.

Unfortunately for Sargent, the contemporary aspect of his style and preference is what caused his efforts to go somewhat unappreciated by others around him during his time period. Although he may not have made an immediate impression on his audiences, Sargent started the movement towards modernism and such expression in art. In the words of the author, “…the modern era was at hand, and it was Sargent, whether we know it or not, who helped show us what it would look like.” He left an impression of his intelligence and strong-will as he pursued such an uncommon strain of work for the late 18th and early 19th centuries.

In the second reading, we also learn about Sargent on a more personal level. For one, we are exposed to his many struggles of being the unique artist that he had been and how his work suffered as a result. We also come to understand how important his own art was to Sargent and how his life came to revolve around it. His friend, “[Vernon] Lee wrote after his death that the only useful biographical summation would be two words: “he painted”.” Overall, we come to understand just how essential painting was to Sargent and the passion that drove him to persevere with it, even when he was not supported for it.

In Debra Brehmer’s article, “Every Portrait Tells a Lie” she dives right in by saying that every portrait tells a story that is somewhat a lie, meaning that any presentation is not an accurate account of what actually happened at the moment, but rather an attempt at capturing a certain moment. Brehmer then refers to a personal photo of her and her brother sitting in front of a Christmas tree. Though the photo makes them appear happy, Brehmer writes how it is a false representation of what had actually occurred. She says that her brother had probably done something “nasty” right before the photo, but because she had to stage a smile, it would appear otherwise. Her word choice of “manufactured” (in the sentence: “I knew, even at a young age, that we were participating in a history that was manufactured”), truly captures her feelings regarding portraitures. Its as though the subjects of the photo were some industrial product that was simply being created or produced by the artist’s (or photographer’s) judgment of how s/he would like the portrait/photo to appear. Brehmer also states a goal of portraitures, that it “tries to hold on to what can’t be contained”, that though the moment has past, there is still a reminder that exists to represent it. Some artists broke away from the tradition of “frozen or dead” portraits, and tried to keep the subject of the portrait alive. By the time, I came to the end of this article, I found myself looking at the last Christmas photo in a different light, asking myself how truly happy the family was at the moment and if the photo was in any way an accurate representation of what the photo seems to present.

Upon reading “How John Singer Sargent made a scene” by Sarah Churchwell, I understood that Sargent had been influenced by many other great artists, but that he redefined it and produced many pieces of artwork that were considered very modern for their time. In his piece “Lily, Lily, Rose”, Sargent’s “chief aim… was to capture en plein air the transient quality of ‘fugitive evening light’”. Unlike other “posed” or “staged” photos of the time, here we see how Sargent tried to create a moment in real time. The girls in the photo seems to be right in action, and that is essentially what Sargent was trying to capture. Even in the portrait “Robert Louis Stevenson and His Wife”, the scene seems to be very in-the-moment, and not posed. The husband is captured mid-walking, and the wife (due to the murkiness of her outfit) seems to be shifting constantly in her seat. Both these portraits seem to capture a moment in it’s real time, as opposed to having them be posed.

Though Sargent’s work had its critics, its clear that he was able to take ideas from other people and create something new. He is credited for many great and accomplished works, and even more so for showing us what modern would look like.

A camera takes a photo of an instance by capturing the light and recording it onto a film. The instance will be captured with accuracy to every specific detail. An artist, however, cannot do the same. A portrait takes a great deal of time and effort to complete. This gives artist the freedom to impose “their reality on the picture”, as stated in the essay “Every Portrait Tells a Lie” by Debra Bremer. The portrait is painted with the subjective feelings of the artist. If the artist sees the subject he’s painting as sad, the artist will paint in minor details that makes the subject look sad and gloomy. But the subject might not be sad, the subject might just be tired. This is how portrait tells a lie. It is a lie that the artist tell based on his “subjective and contingent”. A portrait tells a story from a bystander’s, or artist’s, point of view.

I also feel that portraits contain an artist’s own emotion. If the artist is happy, they might choose a more colorful and light color palette, which would make the subject seems happy too. Regardless of what the subject actually feels himself/herself.

In “How John Singer Sargent Made a Scene” by Sarah Churchwell, she mentioned “it was Sargent, whether we know it or not, who helped show us what it [modern era] would look like.” The best example of how Sargent did this is through the painting Madame X (1884). The subject of the portrait is wearing a sweetheart neckline dress that reveals a big portion of skin. The dress is held up with two thin and fragile string of beads. If any closet malfunction were to happen, the dress may have fallen off the madame. Sargent received a great deal of criticism for this portrait. Many criticized the “shockingly wanton shoulder strap allowed to fall suggestively loose” and the “powder-blue pallor of her skin”.In the late nineteenth century, women wore high necklines and showed very little of their skin. Madame X went against the social norm and violated the dressing code of the late 19th century. However, in this day and age, it is not a surprise to see a girl dress like Madame X to attend a party. Through his portrait, Sargent helped us see the modern era.

I see pictures and portraits as two very similar types of art. In the article Every Portrait Tells A Lie, Debra Brehmer brings up a great point that a picture is just “participating in a history that was manufactured.” A picture is often taken after one is ready and posing for the camera, likewise a portrait requires one to pose in a certain position that they desire to create a scene that they envisioned. We do not know what happened before, after, or even during the picture but what we do know is what the person intended to draw. Brehmer defines a portrait as something that “is always a deceased moment. It’s gone, but remains.” That is a very interesting statement because a portrait is meant to depict a certain person at that time, place, and setting yet even as the moment is passed the painting itself will still remain and stay in the moment. As Brehmer says, “Portraiture wants what cannot be had: Life to stop without being dead.” Similarly, this would also pertain to a picture, even though the moment has passed it is now captured at that moment and only in that picture will the moment remain still. Portraits and Pictures create a screenshot of a situation, person, place, and etc.

John Singer Sargent is a well known artist. His works range from style to style and contain a certain artists art styles in them. Sarah Churchwell states in her article, “How John Singer made a scene,” that is seemed as if John was ahead of his time. I agree that John’s art style and artwork may have been ahead of his time. Madam X for example, was criticized greatly back then for its bold and vulgar representation. If created now, there would not have been as big of a reaction to the painting. 

In an era of selfies and snapchats, we often find ourselves taking photos of even the most mundane tasks in order to capture a moment. Every phone has a camera, every person as a phone, and so everyone is participating in the world wide phenomenon of picture-taking. However, in previous years, capturing a moment was not as simple. Debra Brehmer’s essay “Every Portrait Tells a Lie” discusses how portraiture was used as a medium to capture a moment, and Sarah Churchwell’s essay “How John Singer Sargent Made a Scene” described how John Singer Sargent went about creating his tremendously popular portraits.

In her essay, Brehmer mentioned how the image a portrait portrays is often a lie, however, it relays a message of truth. Often, a picture is framed. Despite the events that occur before, after, and during a portrait is created, we are often contorted into uncomfortable poses for pictures that portray a distinct idea. Because pictures last forever. Brehmer wrote in her essay that “portraiture want what cannot be held: Life to stop without being dead”. I was shrouded by a sense of awe as I slowly realized how I agreed with Brehmer’s point. I have plenty of photos in my own home where I’m smiling next to my family. To the superficial glance, I look cheery and delighted, as does the rest of my family. However, I distinctly remember several instances of nasty word exchanges before and after these pictures were taken. But this doesn’t mean that a portrait is a complete lie. Brehmer discussed how the scene that is trying to be attained symbolizes the desire to make the portrait reality. And so happy family photos may allude to the desire to have a happy family. I also agree with this conclusion on the truth behind portraits.

John Singer Sargent was one of a few extremely popular artists that was consistently inquired to make new portraits for a variety of people. Churchwell describes this process in her essay, where Sargent would often play the piano in between brush strokes and sometimes spent a measly twenty-five minutes each day adding to his paintings. Although, because he was painting for the sake of others, Sargent often felt pressure to draw in a way that was pleasing to the public. However, this did not stop him from remaining faithful to his personal style. I believe this is the reason why he became so successful. Although there were instances where his artwork was rejected, for example, “Madame X”, Sargent continued pursuing his artwork in a fashion that was distinctly his own. Even through the frustration of creating “Madame X” despite his negative feelings about the paintability of the sitter, Sargent created what is now known as an artistic masterpiece. This fact especially impacted me. To understand that in art, even frustration creates beauty is a very powerful concept to me. Whimsical inspiration is not the keystone to great art, but rather a desperation to explore the dimensions of your own artwork.

Sargent’s singular style, I believe, is what made him the success that he is. Despite criticism and expectations, his loyalty to his artwork is what made him important. He portrayed the lies of portraiture through a stylistic beauty that could not be rendered by another artist. Today, his impact is still felt throughout the artistic community.