It is not often that portrait painting makes the news twice in a week – albeit it for different reasons. There is nothing new about images of the ultra-rich being hung on a wall and in many historic cases, the painted portrait is the only evidence of their existence prior to photography. Ordinary people didn’t qualify and passed into oblivion in their millions. For a portrait to make the news though something extraordinary has to happen or as in these two cases subject the subject to ridicule.
The media has been using King Charles as a running joke all of his life from accounts of him talking to his plants, to his infidelity, to his attempts to play the cello, to the more than lavish expense of his coronation. His new portrait has provided ample material for that to continue and document the decline of the royal family into eccentricity. The public for its part has been quick to add their contribution with Photoshopped versions of the painting appearing daily. What history will make of the official portrait in anyone’s guess, but historians might use it as evidence of the general decline in respect for figures of power – not that cartoonists haven’t been doing so forever. There is no place for monarchs, or celebrities, to hide.
On the other hand, mining magnate Gina Rinehart is worried about her image and how her portrait might affect she way she is remembered. She feels the need to be flattered or revered as was the won’t of all those rolling in money from trade, mining and exploitation of resources and hoping that their flaws and indiscretions could be disguised. Any number of ex slave traders and colonial transgressors have had their reputations savaged in recent times. Two and three dimensional portraits have suffered the ignominy of being removed. Rinehart is not in that category but is seeking to have the ravages of middle age glossed over.
So, what is the point of the painted portrait? That question is raised annually with the major portrait competitions where it is not the subject but the artist seeking kudos. In some cases the artists even paint themselves as self-appointed celebrities doubling their chances of being noticed and remembered. Rembrandt’s paying subjects were egotistical merchants and city burghers of no consequence to history but what we value most highly though are his self-portraits where his honesty reveals the process of ageing. That he died in impoverished obscurity as his star faded says more about fashion and society than the artist.
On a trip to Parliament House in Canberra you can see portraits of former Prime Ministers although not all are represented and may never be. While it is often the case that having a background of money helps propel individuals into the top job, the official portrait has to reveal something quite different and even deciding what those characteristics might be is a cause for anguish. You only get one official portrait in most cases and some do not stand the test of time. I always feel that it is the humanity rather than the power that is portrayed in prime ministerial portraits but then again this is Australia where the ‘tall poppy syndrome’ continues to lop people off at the knees who get above themselves. Ordinary is good – extraordinary is reserved for sporting figures.
While King Charles 111 commissioned and approved his firey red image with attendant butterfly, Gina Rinehart as possibly still the richest person in Australia, discovered her portrait hanging in a prominent place and took umbrage at the artist and the gallery. No doubt she has the ultra-flattering, glossed-over version of her likeness hanging over her mantlepiece at home, but the ‘unflattering’ Namatjira version is hanging in a very public place defying her attempts to have it removed. As many have pointed out, she has done the National Art Gallery a huge favour in dragging in curious crowds and made Namatjira a household name if he wasn’t already.
What it all comes down to though is a combination of ego and using power to dictate culture. Hitler tried it as did Mussolini, echoing historic attempts to subvert history by dictators going back millennia. It has always amused me that the Salon de Refuses in Paris and the exhibition of Degenerate art in Berlin garnered significantly more attention than official channels might have expected and required police crowd control. It says more about the public perception of art than anything else. Nevertheless, art as propaganda has always proved to be popular and news moguls are quick to pump up sales on the basis of it even when the propaganda falls on deaf ears or simply becomes lost in the overall cacophony. Elections are a good case in point where idealised images of politicians appear on every lightpole and fence up the vote and are then pulped. The half-turned pose, toothy smile and tailored clothes are quickly forgotten – but it was not as though anyone was voting for a candidate on the basis of how they looked anyway. Policy and promise are the telling factors.
Does a public figure have any rights when it comes to how they are portrayed? Cartoonists certainly don’t think so and neither do newspaper/magazine editors. Making celebrities look ridiculous or pompous has always been sport and the price to be paid for wanting the spotlight. Rise or fall makes no difference. On the way up, few personal details escape the net and on the way down, it is the salacious indiscretion that makes celebrities front page stars. If the king’s brother ever has a latterday portrait painted, the artist would be hard pressed deciding what to include since the caricatures have set him in stone. Gina Rinehart may think of herself as Australian royalty but she, like, everyone else ages, produces double chins and gradually fades from memory. In some respects, she should be grateful that she is hung in the National Gallery at all when even a number of Prime Ministers who were elected to power still don’t adorn the walls of Parliament House.