But Where Are The Clothes? Sargent and Fashion @ Tate Britain
Having seen reels of the American version of this exhibition, I was expecting lots of fashion. Unfortunately, I was disappointed in this as there were less textiles overall than anticipated, but on the plus side, heaps of art, showing how Sargent used art and fashion in his portraits. (Sometimes even forcefully encouraging sitters to commit crimes against fashion — by wearing out-moded items for their artistic/aesthetic value. At other points he’d commit crimes against his sitter’s fashionable sensibilities by completely changing their style, using textiles to invent dresses for the effect of the colour or by putting them in a differently coloured/styled item to reality. Be that as it may, it was fun to see what made the cut — and what didn’t).
Overall, I found that less is more — there may be less textiles to peruse than I anticipated; instead, there are accessories such as hair ornaments and fans. When there are original textiles remaining, these are gloriously displayed so that you can (in the majority of cases) walk all the way round and get a really close look. It’s also the stories behind them — we learn not only about their wearer, but something about Sargent too. Such as when he visited Monet — only to be devastated on finding that there was no black paint to be found in the house. Before the Rolling Stones were even a thing, Sargent was *quite literally* painting it black — black-on-black Rembrandt- style even.
For example of the stories behind the art: the girl’s pink dress is a fake. Sargent must have her in a pink dress to pop against the red sofa; she tried her sister’s — which didn’t fit. Therefore he draped her in pink folds of material to create a ‘dress’ and achieve colour perfection in the painting.
This sitter is bored, recalling later that creating the portrait seemed to take an awfully long time. However, Sargent has caused the pleats in their dress to mimic the linen-fold panelling in the background — he’s not bored!
This sitter’s dress has been given only one distinct bow. In reality, the deep red velvet dress has two! In the portrait, the simplicity of the decoration pushes us into looking at the sitter instead.
Whilst there wasn’t an artefact for this one, the painting is fabulous — channelling all the panache of the 18th century. The lady is even crushing her tangled pearls beneath her exquisitely shod feet — the decadence! and yet this is a woman who loves her children. She even twins hair ribbons with her daughter. It’s delightfully full of suppressed energy.
Ofcourse there is Madame X (1884), and we get to see her with — and without — her notorious strap. Sargent’s huge canvases and statuesque stylisation is taken to extremes here, with a tight black velvet and satin evening gown, (and damages a social reputation in the doing). At the same time we also get to see the original (without the painted in second strap) and which Sargent kept for himself.
I was hoping for a red dressing gown here — I hoped in vain.
On the other hand, whilst being red dress gown denied, there is the chance to see lots of new (to me) works — such as this marvellous painting of a woman stagily posing in a feathered hat and swishing cloak. Very Alexander Dumas or Frans Hals swagger.
This is equally amazing, with a feathery lightness of touch.
Mrs Leonard Hirsch was exciting (channelling Velazquez) in pink; for beside the artwork was the original 17th century lace collar from the portrait. What a survivor!
Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth was very exciting, (firstly, because I had no idea that Sargent created this portrait). Secondly, beside her dramatic painting was the original dress and cloak, belt (and what looked like a knife sheaf hanging off the belt). The green beetle wing covered dress is actually knitted, to resemble chainmail — and Sargent has played with the blues to enhance the drama of it all. The scarlet cloak was richly embroidered with heraldic beasts, glittering with beads and metallic threads.
Nor was I expecting this wonder — Sargent does Renoir!
Again, the dress wasn’t here — but the items which were included a wonderfully frilly black opera cloak, a glittering dancer’s costume — augmented by film footage of her swirling in dance; a top hat and a beautiful ecru evening gown dripping with pearls. Intriguingly in its accompanying portrait, the ecru gown had become much more ethereal, losing all the detail of its ornamentation. We also got to enjoy the fabulous roses and precision cut of an acid green evening dress, with huge puffed sleeves.
Then there were 101 uses for a Kashmir shawl — with a series of drowsy draped portraits.
Why not process with them?!
Sneered at in its accompanying information card for its colonialism and imperialism, you cannot deny the power of the image. Sagent is humanising a system — and making it compelling, in the manner of Holbein.
Sargent was remarkably good at doing pomp and circumstance — with the garter and star on display to match. Ancient ritual suddenly becomes very modern under Sargent’s vision — Impressionist-style, with movement and light captured in a moment.
The colours are amazing! (although its black and white in contrast). It’s also a really charming portrait of mother and son. She professionally poses with hand on hip and looks shrewdly at us, whilst her son is in the child’s uniform of the time — a white sailor suit and large straw hat. Sargent gives us incredible textured painting — as he depicts black embroidery and trimmings against black cloth.
Henry Lee Higginson (1903) was my favourite though — such a compelling portrait with a military coat thrown over his knees. Here Sargent plays with shades of browns and shadows.
And the unexpected — the Gainsborough like Mrs Frank Millet/Lily Millet. Such a delicate, subtle, beautiful work. (1885–1886), whilst looking quite Regency in a blue shawl which is trying to be a Spence jacket, ribbon choker and white dress.
Indeed there was Sargent’s Manet moment with a drowsy picnic group, not quite as risqué as Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe, but still pushing some social boundaries. At the same time, it’s a very relaxing moment — with the soft sunshine and parasols, the feelings of comfort and enjoyment oozing out of the work.
Whilst his portraits of children were incredibly naturalistic, he threw all the stylising and spectacle into his works portraying, society greats and his friends.
@ All images are used to illustrate the exhibition Sargent and Fashion @ Tate Britain, London. They are not the author’s property. March 2024.
Enjoy some recreations of Sargent’s works here:
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