#TeamPainting or #TeamPhotograph?

 If you have been known me for a while, you will recognise this photograph and its source material...

The Bridesmaid (c.1900) Unknown Photographer

The Bridesmaid (1851) John Everett Millais

Somebody, for reasons we don't know other than they quite fancied it, recreated Millais' The Bridesmaid in a photograph about half a century after it was painted. It might have been for a photographic competition, it might have been just for a laugh because they had a camera, extremely long hair and a spare afternoon. We shall never know.  While I'm used to seeing models posed in photographs that are the source material for paintings, such as Jane Morris' many photographs for Rossetti, and photographs that are sort of based on the same iconography as paintings such as this one...

The Blessed Damozel (After Rossetti) (c.1906) Sidney Carter

...which is based on Rossetti's Blessed Damozel poem and paintings, I've never really seen pictures where they go out on purpose to see which is better, painting or photograph. That was until I stumbled over a wonderful article in The Quarterly Illustrator, a magnificent publication from 1894. Imagine my relief that Will Hicok Low (1853-1932), an artist and writer, had taken time out of his busy day to compare images of semi-draped actress to semi-draped figures in paintings. The things we do for art...

His article, entitled 'Contrasts of Life and Art' starts by stating an obvious point but I'm still impressed that anyone in 1894 said it out loud - nine out of ten models in paintings are women. He quotes Robert Burns (and why not) saying Nature 'her prentice hand she tried on man, and then she made the lasses' giving a very academic explanation that women are a far superior aesthetic creation than men, rather than male artists just want to a job where they see boobs. Anyway, Mr Low goes on to say that the relationship between the beauty of women on the canvas and the beautiful model is down to the artist. If the artist is a realist, then the similarity will be great. If the artist works from 'the within outwards', then the image will be less portrait-like, for which he cites Rossetti as a perfect example. Anyway, his splendid idea was to get models (in this case famous actresses) to pose for the picture to measure how realistic the effect is. It's not to say that the model looks exactly like the model in the picture but how much the overall effect can be reproduced and what are the difficulties. I offer my apologies in advance - I've tried to find as many colour reproductions as possible for the paintings but some seem very obscure now so I've made do with the scanned copy from the article where no other is available.

 

Nydia (undated) Cuno von Bodenhausen

Caroline Miskel as Nydia

First out of the trap is Cuno von Bodenhausen's blind Pompeian girl, Nydia (which I'm guessing is pronounced like 'Lydia' but with an N). Mr Low announces it has 'as much grace and sentiment...as the original picture' and that Miss Miskel does a fairly decent job in matching the model. The only difference is in the poise of the head and that Miss Miskel is less 'divinely tall' (rude) but this is a universal problem - 'painters as a rule are more generous in the proportion of length in comparison to the size of the head than nature.' For critics of Rossetti who always go on about the weirdness of his models various body parts, he's just being as 'generous' as the rest of them, apparently...

Fabiola (undated) Jean Jacques Henner

Theresa Vaughn as Fabiola

One of the difficulties I had with the article is that Will H. Low keeps getting everyone names wrong, so he calls the model for Fabiola Teresa Vaughan, but I think he means 'Theresa Vaughn'. Low rightly points out that the most simple subjects like Fabiola are the most difficult to reproduce as there really is only the head and no two heads are likely to be of the same type. He also states that painters habitually show an arbitrary and somewhat unnatural light effect.  In Fabiola, the shadow under the chin is so dark that it blends with the drapery into shadow.  By contrast, 'Miss Vaughan's fair complexion - very properly, one must admit - refused to descend' to such darkness. Well done to Miss Vaughn on being able to glow in the dark...

Magdalen (undated) Bartolome Esteban Murillo

Estelle Clayton as the Magdalen

Theresa Vaughn as the Magdalen

Low starts to get over-ambitious at this point, and brings us a two-for-the-price-of-one on Magdalens. According to Low, both models, and we welcome Miss Estelle Clayton to the party for this one, appear at the disadvantage of this image in terms of character, modelling and realism.  He complains that the painted Magdalen is too pretty and softened. Murillo's a 17th century, no doubt Catholic religious painter, I'm not sure what Low was looking for in terms of brutal realism. Possibly Low would have preferred this corking piece of restoration of one of Murillo's works, here. Lovely.

Cynthia (no date) Frank Dicksee

Estelle Clayton as Cynthia

I really regret that I couldn't find the Dicksee in colour as his stuff is always gorgeous. Low is very harsh and almost refuses to compare them as Estelle inclined her head in the wrong direction and ruined the comparison, which is a bit harsh.  Again, a bit like Fabiola, when it is a close up comparison of two women, one painted and one real, it's hard to compare especially when the artist romanticises the subject.

The Greek Girl (no date) Oskar Begas

Marguerite Cortillo as The Greek Girl

Now, I have not managed to find a damn thing about the lovely Miss Cortillo (no, Google, I didn't mean Michael Portillo, that's not helpful) so I don't know if she died horrifically young or ended up in an asylum or anything. Low loves this picture and states 'the living quality of the photograph from nature, not to insist on more evident superiorities to the original in point of beauty, make Begas's painting seem commonplace to the last degree.' I think he likes the photograph, but he does have a long winded way of saying that Begas's Greek Girl is a bit bland. The photo is possible the most lovely of all of them, I agree.

Lydia (no date) Joseph Lieck

Caroline Miskel as Lydia

 Oddly, Low didn't have a lot to say about this one and it's not a bad comparison, although the painting is absolutely gorgeous. He does clarify his previous comment about Miss Miskel not being 'divinely tall' by add she is 'divinely fair'. I'm sure Miss Miskel was delighted to hear that...

The Pompeiian (no date) Nathaniel Sichel

Theresa Vaughn as The Pompeiian

Caroline Miskel as The Pompeiian

Again, we have a double bill of ladies for Sichel's The Pompeiian (that feels like it has too many 'i's) and Low, running out of steam just seems to be complimenting the women, possibly hoping one will read it and get in touch - 'the painter would have been fortunate had he found such models to his hand.' Low, you old smoothie. Both actresses have a look of 'How long do I have to balance this on my head?!' about them...

Judith (1887) Charles Landelle

Theresa Vaughn as Judith

This was the reason I ended up on the article as Charles Landelle's magnificent Judith is going to be part of the exhibition I am working on in the Autumn. Imagine my utter delight to find Miss Vaughn's version, especially when I read she was hot from her success in '1492'.  I thought that was a serious play about the founding of America, but no, it's a smashing romp where she plays her banjo. According to Low, Holofernes would have nothing to fear from Miss Vaughn (unless she got her banjo out) and that the emotion present in the painting is not in the photograph. I think it is a bit unfair to get the actress to give us smouldering and passionate murder without good lighting.  She just looks a bit fed up by this stage, to be honest.

Listening to the Fairies (no date) Cuno von Bodenhausen

Caroline Miskel is Listening to the Fairies

So, to the last of the experiment and the one that Low announces the most successful. A bit like Nydia this is a picture from a distance, and Miss Miskel is not required to look exactly like the painting, just have the same whimsical energy, which I think she pulls off.  Low concludes that single figures in a landscape are easier than up close work, and the lighting is always going to be a tricky thing in reality. Groups are a nightmare for lighting, as are individual, separate figures, but 'with time, patience, a studio capable of affording a variety of lights, and, above all, that quality of genius which we name taste, the task would be an alluring one.' He signs off by saying 'think for yourself: and then - and only then - let the camera "do the rest".' So that's fine then, all I need is a camera, a studio, expert lighting and genius...

The Mona Barbie/Barbie Lisa, from an article here...

I really love seeing people recreate paintings, with themselves, dogs, dolls or whatever is to hand.  It says a lot about the life of the painting and what it means to people that they try and reproduce it as a living thing. It shows that art has a life beyond the artist and the canvas, that it lives in the minds of everyone who sees it as a spark to make something of our own in response. Low's idea of comparing a photograph with a painting is, by his own admission, flawed because it is hard, especially in 1894, to recreate the impossibilities of an artist's vision. The paintings he uses are not meant to be realistic so attempting to make a photograph, which is by its very nature a realistic thing, be 'painterly' is a difficult task. What is interesting is when it actually comes close, as in Nydia or actually arguably improves it, as in The Greek Girl. I hope to uncover more photo/painting images to bring you but I will conclude with our lovely models. as I said, I could find nothing about Michael Portillo, I mean Marguerite Cortillo, but here are the others...

Theresa Vaughn (and banjo)

Theresa Vaughn (1867-1903) was a singer and comedian on the American stage, specialising in music with her banjo. Her first success was in a production of Gilbert and Sullivan's The Gondoliers in Boston.  She married her manager William Mestayer, but after his death in 1896, her performances suffered.  Following the death of her brother soon after, she was committed to an asylum due to her overwhelming grief, where she died in her 30s.

Estelle Clayton

Estelle Clayton (1867-1917) made it to the grand old age of 50 before dying which is quite an achievement.  She was also a writer, producing plays and libretti, but I can't find much more than that.

Caroline Miskel

Lastly, we have the splendidly brief and tragic Caroline Miskel (1873-1898) who manages to pack in a career, a come-back and a marriage into 25 years before popping off due to kidney issues after the birth of her son (who also died). She became famous at 18 and retired after her marriage at 21. She made a come-back in 1897 but by the beginning of 1898 she was pregnant and that was that. Her husband died less than two years later, on which cheerful note I'll be off to see if Michael Portillo really did perform on the Victorian stage...