Fantasizing about Sargent’s Women

I’ve just seen the Sargent exhibit at the MFA and want to share some thoughts. Actually, this is a version of the review that just came out in Arts Fuse, the online arts and culture journal where my writing frequently appears, but with a more personal take. (You can read the Arts Fuse piece here.)

As a portrait painter, Sargent had a reputation for commandeering the process, telling the person what to wear, where to sit and how to pose, all to capture his vision of who this person was. Exploring that process, particularly the clothing choices, is the animating idea behind “Fashioned by Sargent.” I have doubts about whether the clothing he chose and how he painted it is a sufficiently compelling concept to anchor the exhibit, and even if it is, whether the museum could have done more with it. It would have been interesting to explore the power dynamic between Sargent and his subjects, most of whom occupied positions of power in business, government and society, and most likely had their own ideas of how to present themselves in public. But even without that, this is a great opportunity to see more than 50 Sargent paintings at one go.

Sargent often painted portraits of women. Looking at them, I entertained a dual fantasy. One was imagining that these women were alive and that I could meet them at a neighborhood coffee shop. Who, I wondered, would I enjoy talking with over coffee? This may sound silly, but it was a way of responding to the person Sargent presented on the canvas.

My second fantasy was about how the women in the portraits led their lives. Many were wealthy, often married to prominent men. Some also were mothers, with ample means to hire nannies, cooks and maids. Only a few had their own careers, and I wondered if those who didn’t found being a society hostess or charity patron satisfying. After my visit to the museum, I did a little online research and was surprised to learn that a number of the women did engage in other endeavors. Many were highly educated and worked as artists, writers, educators and other pursuits.

Lady Sassoon, for instance. (There she is, above, Lady Sassoon (Aline de Rothschild), 1907, oil on canvas, courtesy of Museum of Fine Arts.)  Hers is the first portrait you see when entering the exhibit, and it’s stunning. She wears a black taffeta opera coat, with salmon pink lining. The actual garment is displayed next to the painting, giving you an idea of how it might feel to move about in something so luxe, and inviting comparison to Sargent’s painted version, which is slimmed down and draped to accentuate the glowing pink lining. She was born Aline de Rothschild. At age 19, she married Edward Sassoon, later Sir Edward. As it happens, both families were the subject of recent biographies: The Women of Rothschild: The Untold Story of the World’s Most Famous Dynasty by Natalie Livingstone, and The Sassoons: The Great Opium Merchants and the Making of an Empire, by Joseph Sassoon. Lady Sassoon herself was an artist, and a friend of Sargent. He painted her portrait two years before she died, at age 41. Was she someone I would have liked to meet for coffee? Definitely yes.

My mother had a friend named Nicki Inches, who I very much enjoyed. One afternoon she hosted my mother and me for lunch at a boat club on the Charles River. Nothing fancy, but fun. I also saw her a few times on my own, when both she and I lived in the Back Bay. She mentioned that Sargent had painted her mother-in-law’s portrait, and here it is. Beautiful, I think, although some at the time thought she looked severe, even vicious. She was a society hostess and in this picture is pregnant with her third child. If she was as interesting as her daughter-in-law, I surely would have enjoyed meeting her.

Mrs.  Fiske Warren was one woman I initially thought I would not care to meet. Here she is with her daughter Rachel. Even with the girl snuggled close, she looks cold and too formal for my taste. But maybe I should reconsider. Gretchen Osgood grew up on Beacon Hill, as did her husband, Fiske Warren, later a paper manufacturer. She studied voice and drama in Paris and apparently was quite accomplished, but a woman of her social status was not supposed to perform publicly, and she didn’t. Also, she was offered academic positions at Wellesley and Radcliffe Colleges, but declined them. Was she captive to the notion that working would reflect negatively on her husband? I don’t know, but I am curious and wish I could talk to her. Also, I’d like to hear more about life on Beacon Hill in the late 19^th century. Historian Samuel Eliot Morrison wrote about his childhood on Brimmer Street. In One Boy’s Boston 1877 – 1901, he makes Beacon Hill seem fun, with sledding, skating, horseback riding, talking with neighbors and shop owners. Did a girl have the same experience?

I will stop fantasizing now, but if you see this exhibit at the MFA, I hope you will let me know who you would want to meet for coffee.