Philip de Laszlo: Accessories & Miscellany

"Gwen Ffrangcon-Davies" by Philip de Laszlo

The brilliant Hungarian artist, Philip Alexius de László, 1869-1937, was the successor (in 1907) to Sargent's portrait practice in London. In 1933 de László demonstrated his dashing technique in a series of photographs, while answering questions posed by the writer A.L. Baldry. The photos and text were published in 1934 by The Studio Publications of London, in volume six of their "How to Do It" series.

6. Accessories

Q: What about the rest of the portrait, the draperies and accessories, how do they rank in relative importance?

"Most of what I have just said about the manner in which hands and feet reveal personality applies to the movement of the sitter's body and, I repeat, rightness in recording that movement is necessary for the making of a successful portrait. There is, in the pose he adopts an unconscious assertion of himself, and the way he wears his clothes emphasizes this assertion. A woman's dress, a man's uniform, robes or everyday suit fall into lines on the sitters themselves quite different from those they would take on any model or lay figure and so you may fairly say that the arrangement of the draperies must be seriously studied because in it is seen a further revelation of character."

17. When to Stop

The sitter, the
painter and the
completed por-
trait. In this
instance the
entire process
occupied only
eight and a half
hours.

Q: Is that why, as you put it, you develop the general effect of your picture continuously?

"Yes; I say once more that by the time I have finished the head I reckon to have brought all the rest of the picture into harmony and right relation with it without necessarily dwelling upon the lesser details. That is the stage at which this portrait of Miss Ffrangcon-Davies has now arrived and there is, I think, no need to carry it any further. It is an example of a type of picture I often paint in which I concentrate on the head and hands and leave the rest unelaborated but, as nearly as possible, correct in forms and values. Still, now that the head and hands are finished, I could, if I wished, complete the draperies and accessories with the help of a model or lay figure, without losing the qualities of the picture, because I have already painted all the main facts of the draperies on the sitter. I might mention that when I do paint a completely finished large picture I endeavour to keep the draperies restrained in tone so that, however rich the dress or uniform and accessories may be, the attention of the spectator is not diverted from the head and hands by any over-insistence upon the incidentals."

Q: But surely your method is a little unusual. Do many artists paint the draperies in their portraits on the actual sitters?

"I really cannot tell you, but I am inclined to think that a good many do not. You will often see in a portrait that the head gives the impression of not belonging to the body. This is generally because the head has been painted throughout and finished independently of the rest of the picture and then the clothes on someone else's body have been added to it. The result must almost inevitably be a misfit, which is to be deplored. Of course, the risk of over-tiring the sitter must be avoided and for this reason I have always aimed at rapidity and directness in my handling of the draperies which the sitter wears. To paint a hand or foot from a model and not from the sitter would be, of course, unpardonable."

18. When a Fresh Start is Necessary

Q: I can quite appreciate that rapidity and directness are essential in all stages of work like yours, but I can also imagine that if you were not absolutely sure of yourself and knew exactly what you meant to do they might easily get out of control. What would happen if a picture did not develop in the way that you intended?"

"Before I go into that I would like to point out that no artist can ever be absolutely sure of himself; even to pretend to think that he is infallible would be a most dangerous form of conceit. At no time can he afford to relax his effort to acquire greater acuteness of vision and more complete command over the technical processes of his craft. Of course, because he is human, he will always be liable to make mistakes, and he must constantly be on his guard against them; and when they do happen they must be frankly recognized and boldly dealt with. I am convinced that when a piece of work has gone wrong it is no good tinkering with it and trying to pull it into shape. That only makes things worse. For myself, if I am not content with the way a portrait is developing, if from the moment when I have made my first drawing I cannot go straight ahead to a satisfactory finish, I throw aside what I have done and begin again."

Q: What! Another picture on a fresh canvas?"

"What else? To find that I was not succeeding in realizing my intention would mean that I could no longer take pleasure in my work and decidedly I should not feel inclined to waste my energies on something that annoyed me. Besides, even if I did fight my way out of the difficulty, all the freshness and spontaneity of my picture would be gone. With a fresh canvas I have a new problem to solve and I can start with my way clear before me. I have even, on occasions, discarded a half-finished portrait and begun another because I chanced to discover that my sitter had a more interesting aspect that the one I had first chosen to paint. It seems to me obvious that I should want his portrait to show him at his best."

Q: Would it not be permissible sometimes to improve on the original? For instance, when you were painting a woman might you not idealize her a little?

"Indeed, you surprise me! You are as bad as a very mature lady who once asked me to paint her, but insisted that I should make her look like what she told me she had been when she was twenty years younger."

Q: How amusing. Did you do it?

"Can you imagine my doing anything so ridiculous? If I were so foolish as to start trying to improve on nature what could I expect but an entirely artificial and conventional result" In serious portraiture there is no place either for what you call idealizing or for that sort of caricature which some people affect because they fancy that a portrait gains in strength by over-accentuation of the sitter's facial peculiarities. Very often these peculiarities are wholly accidental and have no significance whatever for the student of the sitter's character, and by exaggerating them a thoroughly false impression of his personality might be given. The painter's mission is to find and record intelligently the best and most characteristic view of his sitter, not to make him look like a freak."

Q: Do you think our modernist artists would agree with you in that?

"To such a question I have nothing to reply. I am not discussing the opinions of other people, I am explaining to you what I believe. Whether others do or do not agree with me has nothing to do with the matter. I claim the right to think for myself."

To be continued