Philip de Laszlo: Painting the Pope, Pt. 2

"Portrait of Pope Leo XIII" in its Renaissance frame

Philip de Laszlo wrote: "Next morning, with beating heart but firm resolution, I stood in front of a new canvas waiting for the Pope, who entered punctually at ten o'clock and with a gracious and encouraging smile took his seat in the right attitude. I moved my canvas slightly to the left, and by doing so saw my sitter's features less in profile. With all my power of concentration I began to paint at once. An intense calm reigned throughout the sitting. It was as though both the sitter and the onlookers themselves felt how important stillness was for me when starting the new portrait.

On retiring, the Pope came to look at the picture, and said with a smile, 'Bene, bene,' and then left the room. My joy was great when I heard him utter those encouraging words, and I felt that I had made a successful beginning.

Next day I had my fourth sitting with the Pope. It went off very well. I finished the head. During the next few days, I was allowed to paint alone in the Vatican. One of the members of the Pope's household, who was about the same physical build sat for the painting of the robes and accessories.

During the fifth sitting I drew in more precisely the movement of the figure and the folds of the drapery. Although I had a perfect substitute to sit for the drapery, it is impossible to get on another body the characteristic movements of the sitter himself. That morning, therefore, I concentrated on this part of the picture. His Holiness, understanding what I was working on, kept wonderfully still.

I had two more sittings with His Holiness. On the last occasion I finished his beautiful, transparent, expressive hands. When the Pope's portrait was finished, he wished to see it in its frame, which had been specially made for it in the Renaissance style. I was allowed to take it direct to His Holiness. After he had inspected it, he expressed his satisfaction most warmly. As he gave me his parting blessing I feared that I should never have the privilege of being in his presence again. He died three years later and the memories of those hours in which I painted his portrait are very precious to me."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Portrait of a Painter" by Owen Rutter.)