Back to England - VII


Dr. Pozzi at Home by John Singer Sargent, Exhibited at the Tate Britain (LEO Design)

 

I've already stated my admiration (my adoration?) of John Singer Sargent.  In my book, he is the finest artist of the Modern Era.  What I admire most about him is the bravado, spontaneity and confidence of his brushstrokes.  He tells us so much with a single squiggle of his brush.  And, although he was the finest of portraitists, one can only know him when they see a fuller representation of his work—especially the pictures he painted "for fun."

Right or wrong, I feel that I know Sargent.  I believe I can tell (within reason) what he was feeling when he was painting a particular portrait.  My conclusion: he loved being with (and painting) fun, larger-than life women.  And he really loved being with (and painting) handsome men.

Amongst all of John Singer Sargent's male portraits, there was no man as dashing as Samuel Jean de Pozzi, shown in Sargent's painting, above, Dr. Pozzi at Home (1881).  Dr. Pozzi was born in Bergerac, France, and was of Italian-Swiss ancestry.  He was quite the Renaissance Man.  Foremost he was a gynecologist and abdominal surgeon (look at those long, delicate fingers—the tools of his trade—so prominently featured in Sargent's rendering).  He was also an art collector and served as senator representing Bergerac.  He was married once, had three children, and had numerous affairs including ones with Sarah Bernhardt and the widow of Georges Bizet.  He had a 28 year affair with a mistress, Emma Fischof, a Jewish woman to whom he was devoted until he died.  Pozzi was prominent—as a patron and aficionado—in literary, music and artistic circles which is how he met John Singer Sargent.  I'm sure Sargent loved every moment in the company of this handsome, intelligent and cultured man.  I have begun reading The Man in the Red Coat by Julian Barnes, a story about Dr. Pozzi and his circle of lovers and friends.  I haven't gotten too far into the book, yet, but was impressed with Barnes's insight on page two of the book: "Art outlasts individual whim, family pride, society's orthodoxy; art always has time on its side."  In the case of this painting, Barnes's statement is true.  As accomplished as Dr. Pozzi was, without this portrait, he may have become mostly-forgotten.  Instead his legacy is been carried-onwards (and will continue to be carried onwards) by a painting from 1881.  Art always does have time on its side. 

 

Mrs. Edward L. Davis and Her Son, Livingston Davis by John Singer Sargent, Exhibited at the Tate Britain (LEO Design)

 

When Sargent, an American, would visit the States, he would be deluged with commissioned portraits.  Shown above, a detail from the double portrait, Mrs. Edward L. Davis and Her Son, Livingston Davis (1890).  She was from a prominent Boston family and her husband was the former mayor of Worcester, Massachusetts.  Sargent painted them in the dark space of their Worcester barn.  Although the painting is mostly black and white, set against a dark background, it is not gloomy or severe.  It is a warm and loving rendering—in which the boy leans gently into his mother who has placed a protective arm around him.  With the bravado brushwork of Spanish Renaissance master, Diego Velázquez (one of Sargent's artistic heroes), Sargent has been able to convey a loving psychological portrait, perfect in execution, devoid of sentimentality.

 

W. Graham Robertson by John Singer Sargent, Exhibited at the Tate Britain (LEO Design)

 

Sargent was no stranger to the artistic circles wherever he was: Italy, France, England, America.  W. Graham Robertson, painted above (1894), was a young writer, painter and illustrator.  He was part of the circle surrounding Oscar Wilde and Sargent asked to paint him.  At the sitting—on a warm day—Sargent insisted that Robertson wear his heavy wool coat (wrapped tightly around his slender body by the painter).  Robertson complained about the coat and the heat.  Sargent's reply: "The coat is the picture.  You must wear it."  This rendering captures the aesthetic of a late 19th Century British dandy—with his pose, his jade-topped walking stick, and his fluffy poodle at his feet.

 

The Chess Game by John Singer Sargent, Exhibited at the Tate Britain (LEO Design)

 

By the turn of the Twentieth Century, Sargent was at the height of his fame as the world's leading portraitist.  At about this time, he began to pull-back on his portraiture commissions and paint for his own pleasure: friends, nudes, architecture, landscapes, genre scenes.  He travelled extensively and captured the beauty of these places with pencil, watercolor and oil.  Shown above, The Chess Game, painted during a trip to the Italian Alps in 1907.  His niece, Rose-Marie Ormond, and his valet, the Anglo-Italian Nicola d'Inverno, are shown reclining besides an alpine stream, lost in thought, dressed in Turkish garb which Sargent had previously purchased for such future use.  Notice the simplicity of the brushwork depicting the folds of various fabrics—and how Sargent could convey so much with simple and spontaneous brushstrokes.

 

Lord Ribblesdale by John Singer Sargent, Exhibited at the Tate Britain (LEO Design)

 

Thomas Lister, Lord Ribblesdale, painted by Sargent in 1902, was a baron, Master of the Queen's Buckhounds, a trustee of the National Portrait Gallery.  His portrait shows him in more "casual" hunting clothes, sometimes called "ratcatcher wear."  Sargent heard him speaking in public (in 1894) and approached Lord Ribblesdale to ask if he may paint him.  Sargent worked on the portrait from 1899 to 1902.  Sargent's upwards perspective, the sitter's  long Chesterfield overcoat, and the elongated facial features all contribute to an angular, long and lean silhouette—the painter's objective.  Sargent sought to capture a man of high-birth and consequence, however, a good man who supported the arts and liberal democracy.  The painting captured the confluence of aristocratic privilege, patrician duty, and comportment.  The picture was sometimes referred to as The Ancestor.  Lord Ribblesdale found that he had to live-up-to the image created by Sargent.  Ribblesdale once said that the painting has "forced greatness upon me."  And, "Wherever I go, I am recognized."  Lord Ribblesdale presented the picture to the National Gallery in 1916 in memory of his deceased wife and two sons.  Both his sons had been killed in combat.  With no male heir, his barony became extinct with his own death in 1925 (the same year Sargent died). 

 

Though our Greenwich Village store is now permanently closed, LEO Design is still alive and well!  Please visit our on-line store where we continue to sell Handsome Gifts (www.LEOdesignNYC.com)

We also can be found in Canonsburg, Pennsylvania, at The Antique Center of Strabane (www.antiquecenterofstrabane.com).

Or call to arrange to visit our Pittsburgh showroom (by private appointment only).  917-446-4248