Mrs James Fordyce, Really?

While sitting in a presentation by my most excellent colleague yesterday, I nearly fell over when he informed everyone that this beauty strewing flowers about the grave of Fingle was none other than the wife of our favorite opinionated fuddy-duddy, Dr James Fordyce.


What is even more gossip-worthy is the fact that Dr Fordyce wouldn't have approved of his wife's act of honoring the Celtic hero so it is quite interesting that she is depicted as such.  Looks like it's another woman ignoring your well-meant advice, Dr Fordyce!

Cornelia Presenting her Children

Angelica Kauffman was one of the handful of women in the eighteenth century to be an esteemed and respected artist whose talents were sought after.  Kauffman also took a great role in the Neoclassical movement, preferring to place her subjects in a Greco-Roman atmosphere.

Kauffman also had a fondness for painting subjects with a moralistic message, especially when she could use stories from her beloved antiquity, such as her 1785 painting, Cornelia Presenting Her Children, the Gracchi, as Her Treasures. Now before I tell you the story behind this painting I want to selfish show why I enjoy this particular piece so much.  Kauffman not only proves that she can take the wheel in the male-driven world of history painting, but that she could bring in her knowledge of human emotion.  Here we have Cornelia presenting her two sons, with a causal gesture that has a strong impact.  The two sons look both humble and serene as they enter, one holds a book to show that he going places with his knowledge.

As this moralistic tale goes, Cornelia was a Roman matron and the example of virtue.  Romans were great lovers of virtue (in their women, at least) but that didn't necessarily mean that it was filled with the virtuous.  Here, Cornelia's guest, shows off her new treasures, no doubt gifts from a conquering Roman husband.  She then asks Cornelia to show her jewels to which Cornelia calls in her children and tells her that they are her, "treasures."

This is where Kauffman's skill in depicting human emotion, or perhaps females in general, comes into play.  Just look at the matron's face.  The history painting ends here and a more realistic depiction is revealed.  We have all seen that gobsmacked expression before.  I just can't decide if the proper caption would be, "Are you kidding me?" or "What the heck." since those are usually the two things that run through my head at a moment such as this.  I'm sure that's one less superficial Roman matron who will be visiting Cornelia from now on.

Modern Muses- Samuel's Painted Collection of Lady Greats

As, perhaps, a tribute to England's respect toward their learned women, little-known artist Richard Samuel painted the now-famous, Portraits in the Characters of the Muses in the Temple of Apollo, better known as The Nine Living Muses of Great Britain. Keeping with the tradition of the group portraits of the Dutch golden age, Samuel painted his sitters naturally in their environment...well, naturally might not be the best word for it since I doubt there was a temple of Apollo for the girls to hop in and play dress up (how else are we supposed to get the illusion to the nine muses?). The ladies interact with each other while still serving the painting's chief goals: portray these notable women and do it in a means which tells the viewers that these women deserve your respect. Isn't the eighteenth century great?

When looking at this painting, I find not enough time is dedicated to pointing out the whose who. I almost want to brush my mouse arrow over it to see if the facebook tags will come up. Wouldn't that be nice? While I am not techie enough to put something like that on a blogger platform, I can still give you the whose who report.

Elizabeth Carter is shown (far left in painting) in conversation with Anna Laetitia Barbauld. Described as a "fine old slut" by Lord nappier, Carter was, of course, more than that. She was a bluestocking and linguist, who translated the works of Epictetus in English for the first time in history. Being a friend of Samuel Johnson, she would help him edit some of his works. Barbauld has a long resume of achievements which make her difficult to categorize; a poet, political commentator, teacher, and in her later life, a children's book author.

The woman at the easel is none other than one of the founders of the Royal Academy, Angelica Kauffman.

Regaling everyone with a song on the lyre is the songbird, Elizabeth Linley Sheridan.

Surrounded by ladies, and visibly entranced by the music is Elizabeth Griffith. Griffith was born in theater royalty in Dublin and became and actress. Her husband wanted to take her as a mistress but she refused, resulting in the marriage. Not surprisingly, he had a roaming eye, and when he wouldn't return to home for extended periods it was Griffith who supported the family with her writing.

To Elizabeth's right is Catherine Macauly, whom I will be so cruel as to say Samuel was quite generous in her portrayal; it looks nothing like her!

Staring to the heavens is the queen of the bluestockings herself, Elizabeth Montagu. Once again, I have to wonder if Samuel had even laid eyes on her, Montagu being 59 when this portrait was painted. She was one of the wealthiest women of England and she used her wealth to foster British and Scottish literature.

The other lady musician, is Charlotte Lennox, taking up the cithara. This prop is misleading for Charlotte was not known for any musical skills but was a celebrated author, playwright, and poet as well as failed actress. Among her circle were Joshua Reynolds, Samuel Johnson, ans Samuel Richardson.

The figure who can't be bothered to look up from her reading to enjoy the music is Hannah Moore who was a playwright, religious writer, social reformer and philanthropist. Moore lived a long, fulfilling life, dying at age 88.


There are a few faults with the painting. The first being, the sitters are not accurately rendered. Perhaps in the quest to becoming an allegorical figure, your very image itself becomes, well, allegorical. Or, as I am inclined to believe: the painter just wanted pretty ladies. Samuel did not paint from live models. The other fault is that each of the ladies is supposedly representing one of the muses, however many have pointed out, it can't be determined which muses they are representing. Who is supposed to be Melpomene? Urania?

One side of me thinks this is a desperate attempt of an artist to feed into the celebrity craze of 18th century England. Making a tributary painting of famous women is bound to make a guinea or two, right? If that is the case the plan worked, for the painting made it into the Royal Academy exhibition of 1779. But the other side of me knows that I could be looking at the painting the wrong way. I should see these women as they are presented: as muses, inspirations. And that is, without a doubt what these women are, people to be inspired by and to look up to in one's own personal goals. For that, they were most deserved of being named the nine living muses.

Tart of the Week: Mary Moser

Of the numerous great female artists of the eighteenth century, Mary Moser is usually shortsighted. An odd fact, especially considering that Mary, with Angelica Kaufman, was a founder of the Royal Academy.

Art was in Mary's genes. Her father was an artist and noticed his daughter's talent at an early age and took it upon himself to train her. Mary's favourite subject was flora. In an age where paintings of flowers went out with the Dutch Golden age, Mary picked up where the Dutch masters left off and resurrected the subject-matter. She craved recognition and was twenty-four when she aided in forming the Royal Academy in hopes it would get her name out. Perhaps that is what helped her to get the commission to paint floral motifs for the queen's house, Frogmore. But Mary's participation in the Royal Academy founding wouldn't be the last time Mary displayed her Scorpio sense of assertive and competitive nature.

Mary was almost fifty when she finally settled down and married (she was such a Samantha!). Almost as soon as she was married she began having an affair with the flamboyant miniature artist, Richard Cosway. The two went on an artist pilgramage tour together and his sketches from that time are dabbled with little notes about his sex life with Mary. She was a freak in bed! In some notes he directly compared Mary's carnal skill with his wife's (Mary came out out on top, no pun intended). For an old macaroni, Mary really brought the raunchy side of Cosway out.

Mary lived out the rest of her years in retirement, and died quietly in 1819 at the ripe old age of seventy-five.

The Intimate Portrait at The British Museum

Set in the intimate Gallery 90 in the British Museum, The Intimate Portrait takes some of the nicest drawings and miniatures out of the British Museum's collection and puts them on display for the masses...free of charge!

After hiking up the many flights of worn marble stairs you enter the dimly lit print gallery. It looks like any other print gallery with the exception of an ingenious little simplicity: rest boards. These banisters follow the glass cases allowing you to rest your arms (and handbag) as you lean down to read the detailed description of the drawings. Lauren and both remarked on what a convenient feature this was. It was needed to because there was a lot of reading in the descriptions and each was was so interesting, you didn't want to skip over any.

I loved this exhibition. Although small in size you could easily spend an hour or more there. There weren't as many miniatures as I was hoping, but the amazing drawings made up for the lack of miniatures. There were many highlights I particularly enjoyed. Two sketches of Angelica Kauffman show the artist in candid moments, sketched when she was sketching or in the company of friends. The drawing of Mary Hamilton by Lawrence is so beautiful it was chosen as the icon for the exhibition itself. A chalk self-portrait of Joshua Reynolds at 27, shows not only how handsome the young artist was but also depicts his young ambition and confident air. There is also a sketch Thomas Lawrence did of Emma when he was visiting the Hamiltons which is interesting in that Emma herself signed it. Her signature is surprisingly neat; I always pictured it in my head as sloppy since her grammar was horrible (although it wasn't her fault she was illiterate for years).

All in all, this is not an exhibition to be missed if you are in London. Give yourself an hour or so to dedicate to it and then leave through the opposite exit so that you come out in the citradel right by the restaurant. Order some afternoon tea for two and you are in heaven. Fabulous exhibitions should always be discussed over tea.

Kauffman and the Spencers

Angelica Kauffman was no stranger to the Spencer brood. In 1774 she painted a portrait of Georgiana, Harriet, and George. In it she captures the young siblings before marriages, gambling problems, political careers, and celebrity. You can also see how much attention surrounded Georgiana, with the way both of her siblings are focused on her while she, herself, makes eye contact with the viewer. Years later, Kauffman returned to paint both Spencer sisters again in complimenting portraits. They are portrayed in the NeoClassical style that Kauffman loved. Both ladies are older now. They have loved and lost, had children, and lived the celebrity lifestyle. Instead of the young, starry-eyed beauties we now see matronly graces in more simple settings.

Tart of the Week: Angelica Kauffman

The gypsy painter that is Angelica Kauffman was born in Switzerland, raised in Austria, and is considered to be one of the great British artists of the 18th century. How peculiar. She was born in 1741, the daughter of a painter. She inherited her father's skills in the art, and when the family moved throughout Italy on his various commissions, Angelica was allowed to hone these skills by working with him. Because of relocating throughout the continent, Angelica became fluent in a variety of languages including English. Soon, British tourists were commissioning her to paint their portraits on their World Tour. All this networking among the gentry of Britain got Angelica a ticket to London with Lady Wentworth.

Angelica was an immediate success in London. Due to Lady Wentworth's influence Angelica was able to rub shoulders with the great leaders of the arts such as Garrick and Reynolds. It was here that the naive 25 year-old became in entwined with a dangerous man that almost ruined everything she had earned through her hard work. The Swedish Count de Horn has been described as a "rogue" and was known to live lavishly but never invite anyone over to dine with him. Somehow or another he convinced Angelica to a clandestine wedding. It was not long before Angelica realized the danger she was in; her husband was squandering all her money and had none of his own. In fact this Count Frederick de Horn was an impostor. He wasn't the count at all, merely some guy who used to work for him.

With the help of her new friend, Joshua Reynolds, Angelica managed to escape unscathed from the secret marriage. Hmm, still sounds fishy to me! She moved on to new endeavors, and was one of the signatures partitioning the king for a Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture. Indeed, Angelica was one of the two female incumbents in the Royal Academy which later banned women. She exhibited many of her works at the academy, many of which reflected her love of the Renaissance. Angelica also continued painting portraits and made lots of moolah doing so.

She married fellow artist, Antonio Zucchi in 1781. The marriage was not one based on passionate love, but more out of convenience. In fact, it is a bit questionable why Angelica even bothered. After the marriage the couple moved to Rome where Angelica continued to submit her work to the Royal Academy. The city welcomed her with open arms and her studio became a gathering place for great minds. Her husband died in 1795 (he was old to begin with) and left her barely anything in his will but if this bothered Angelica, she never really showed it. Maybe it was because she was filthy rich because of her successful career. She died in 1807 and was honoured by being given the most lavish funeral procession for an artist since Raphael. Just think how many artists Rome has supplied us with, too! Under the direction of the sculptor, Antonio Canova Angelica's funeral procession laid her to rest.

Favorites

Angelica Kauffman, Self-Portrait