Royal Selfies
Royal Portraits: A Century of Photography @ The King’s Gallery, London
A huge furore was made recently about the Princess of Wales’s family photographs — but as Royal Portraits at the newly named King’s Gallery shows, tweaking a photograph was nothing new. And indeed, at one time, everyone who was anyone was at it. And why shouldn’t you, as ruler, wish away some wrinkles or unruly hair? Or indeed the image of your photographer appearing in your regalia at your own coronation.
What came across was how bold the late Queen was with her artistic choices and her representation. There’s a wonderful Pop Art Queen with crushed ‘diamonds’ or glass bedazzling it. A cheeky Rankin pays the slightest homage to the anti-royalist Sex Pistols cover — very much a I’m still here moment. She even went 3D holographic. And yet King Charles III was shown in a huge canvas as very much wrinkled.
There was a frankly horrible (though dramatic) Queen posed in the freezing Scottish landscape as Chief Scot among Scots. More enjoyable (and flattering) was the Queen cheerfully posed by Annie Leibovitz amongst her grandchildren, including one holding her handbag, (probably with a marmalade sandwich stashed inside). One moment’s she’s in stately jewels and furs, the next she’s escaped and is outdoors with the corgis. (I did enjoy reading the Queen’s jokey note about what she would and wouldn’t do for art, depending on the weather). For Princess Alexandra, (keen royal photographer), you could compare her Winterhalter with the photograph featuring the same dress and jewellery. Though not quite the same pose.
I enjoy the teeny (yet detailed) photograph of Queen Mary at her desk from her Doll’s House. We got to see how images were used — who got what version (friends, family, and embassies), which got accepted, rejected — or corrected. It was fun to compare the before and after of a retouched family photo — not what you’d think as Prince Philip lost ‘his halo of leaves’ from the original. (In this case, an unfortunate helping hand/branch from the tree he was propped against).
It also depended on who was taking the photo. Snowdon took some stunning photographs of his wife Margaret; ditto …of Princess Anne. Parkinson on the other hand captured more of the sitter (by not being related to them). And sometimes who you were with — as the Queen and her sister Margaret were captured in a series of dual portrait shots.
Colour vs Black and White was another subject up for debate — and how artistic you wanted to go. All the way in the case of Madame Yevonde’s wedding photographs. Or in a solar flared portrait of Princess Elizabeth. For others it was about light — natural vs studio. Using dramatic modernist backdrops, Cecil Beaton could make Prince George (future King) look very contemporary, or in plunging the Queen Mother into the sunlit gardens of Buckingham Palace into a Victorian pastoral idyll — and the Duchess aka the future Queen Mum, into a supermodel. Applying a ceremonial cape (an Admiral’s boating cloak) to the Queen could really make all the difference in creating a visually striking royal pose.
I’m not sure about the photo of the Queen (not yet Mum) in her furs alongside her husband outside the debris from their bombed Palace. Whilst they were trying to capture an ordinary family life (at breakfast in a painting, in their family photographs), I really don’t think this can compare with what the East End, Southampton, Belfast, or Coventry were going through. It’s a strange egalitarianism, a royal ‘we’re in it together’ moment. No wonder (in a later chocolate box portrait in dramatic red, with a cape) that the artist was trying to capture an individual dealing with the unique problems of their role.
In contrast, The Princess of Wales’ homage to the Queen (Mum’s) Cecil Beaton moment was woefully displayed — terrible glare and shadows, and just couldn’t be appreciated. Her more informal and delightful engagement photograph was much more centrally curated and lit.
Enjoyable however was royals playing with what their ancestors have done — both the late Queen and Prince William have a go at imitating Charles I’s selfie tryptic portrait. Though, no matter how romantic, you can’t help but see a weak looking, rather unwell, un-kingly looking King (from all angles). However, the Queen and Prince William have much more fun and gravitas in life imitating art through their ‘triple Charles’ homages.
Equally inspired was the Princess of Wales, when Duchess of Cambridge, who did a Cecil Beaton homage for her 40th birthday portraits. Paolo Roversi’s delicate black and white portrait was diabolically lit — both glared upon by too bright a light and in shadow at the same time. Such a shame as it just wasn’t done justice. And the only thing which could have been improved in the selection of works on view.
Nor were there as many Victoria and Albert photographs as there could have been (again given how keen the whole family was on creating and distributing images).
I loved the digitally enhanced Gothic Queen in her cloak again — this time superimposed (by the power and cheating of technology) in the stormy grounds of Buckingham Palace.
@ Portraits are the property of the HRH King Charles III and the Royal Collection Trust, UK and used purely to illustrate the exhibition of Royal Portraits: A Century of Photography @ The King’s Gallery, London. November 2024.
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