This semester I’m taking all studio art classes and one of those includes Painting III. Our first project is to create a self-portrait but we have to crop a portion of our faces and enlarge them onto a massive canvas. We are allowed full creative freedom after that. I love painting portraits though I will admit that I’m always daunted by having to represent myself, especially on such a large scale. I’m working on a 30×40 inch canvas and I’ve just finished transferring and refining my sketch. But what are next steps? What makes a good self-portrait? I figure before I head back into the studio to work again, the best way to find out is to research some of the self-portraits that have personally captivated me the most learning art history. Here are a few of my favorites!
Artemisia Gentileschi, Self-Portrait as the Allegory of Painting (La Pittura), c.1638-39, oil on canvas.
One of the foremost painters of the Baroque period, Artemisia Gentileschi depicts herself as Painting itself. This idea harkens back to the classical Greeks but continued with the Renaissance and the publishing of Iconologia in 1593 by Cesare Ripa. In this book, the iconography for various allegorical figures is established, including Painting. “A woman, beautiful, with full black hair, disheveled, and twisted in various ways, with arched eyebrows that show imaginative thought, the mouth covered with a cloth tied behind her ears, with a chain of gold at her throat from which hangs a mask, and has written in front ‘imitation.’ Artemisia matches this description exactly save for her mouth being covered. She will not be made to keep silent. The movement in this piece is striking. Our eye is made to go directly towards Artemisia’s face before following back and forth along her arms. The background is blank except for this tan tone and a slightly darker band of color on the right of the picture place to give the illusion of the corner of a wall. Her absorption in her work as the focal point of our attention, as art in action, is extraordinarily beautiful.
Judith Leyster, Self-Portrait, c. 1630, oil on canvas.
Again we see the artist at work, though it’s in a far more conversational manner. Leyster’s outfit is entirely impractical for painting (who would want to get oil paint on a lace ruff?), but it was important during that period to show her wealth and station. It was also important that she prove she was the one who was painting the portrait because people would not believe her otherwise. To be a working woman artist was unusual during this time but Leyster one of only two women accepted as a master in Haarlem’s painters’ guild during the entire 17th century. For a time she was forgotten to history, however, with much of her work misattributed to Frans Hals. She was rediscovered around the 19th century and inspired many of the Impressionists with her free brushwork. This same brushwork appeals to me now, but the charm Leyster exudes in the tilt to her pose along with the subject of the happy fiddler she paints shines brightest. You can even tell by the way her arm rests with the point of the chair digging into her arm that this pose is momentary, as if we’ve just caught her in her studio.
Gustave Courbet, The Desperate Man, c.1844-45, oil on canvas.
Courbet was a French painter who led the Realism movement during the 19th century. This movement was characterized for its realistic depiction of everyday subject matter which directly went against the style of Romanticism from the previous generation. This can best be understand through Courbet’s own words: “I have never seen an angel. Show me an angel and I’ll paint one.”
Admittedly I could not find a ton of information on this particular work, but I think all that’s really necessary to know is in the paint. The front facing portrait is immediately attention grabbing and the intense lighting coupled with his expression create beautiful drama. I think my favorite thing about this piece is the cropping. The way in which his arms appear to protrude forward yet are struggling against the confines of the picture plane reflect the desperation of the subject.
Norman Rockwell, Triple Self-Portrait, 1960, oil on canvas.
I’ve adored this piece ever since I’ve laid eyes on it. Created for the cover of the Saturday Evening Post, Rockwell depicts himself as the painter, observer, and public person. Pictured in Rockwell’s self-portrait is the self-portraits of his own inspirations, including Albrecht Dürer, Rembrandt, Picasso, and Vincent Van Gogh. His space is perfectly chaotic and the background is completely eradicated to showcase all the little odds and ends strewn about that are so characteristically Rockwell-ian. The glass of what looks to be Coca-Cola precariously tilted on the book its been set upon, as well as the still smoking match in the garbage bin, are some of my favorite details. According to a 2017 article from the Saturday Evening Post about the piece: “In describing this work, Rockwell explained why his glasses look opaque. ‘I had to show that my glasses were fogged, and that I couldn’t actually see what I looked like — a homely, lanky fellow — and therefore, I could stretch the truth just a bit and paint myself looking more suave and debonair than I actually am.’”
Sources:
https://www.nga.gov/collection/highlights/leyster-self-portrait.html
https://www.metmuseum.org/exhibitions/listings/2008/gustave-courbet/photo-gallery
https://www.saturdayeveningpost.com/2017/11/rockwell-finally-appears