When Sargent’s Lady Agnew of Lochnaw (1892) was
exhibited at the British Royal Academy in 1893 it
stole the show, capturing the hearts of both the
critics and the public. The Times called it “not only
a triumph of technique but the finest example
of portraiture seen here for a long while.” Little
wonder—painted in only six sittings, the artist’s
assured brushwork fittingly embodied the young
wife of a Scottish baronet’s beauty and confident
yet easygoing grace and dignity. In the words of
Sargent scholar Trevor Fairbrother, “Sargent’s exe-
cution in Lady Agnew has the same effortless grace
and refinement as the subject herself.”
When I was in school an idea in circulation was
that Sargent drew in and painted the subject aca-
demically and then loosened up the brushwork on
top. Not so. Recollections of his former students
and others who knew him offer insight into his
working method.2 Rather than work from finished
drawings or even by first establishing outlines, he
had a systematic alla prima approach, laying in the
larger masses before getting to details. He pur-
sued a path of great economy of means, “the few-
est strokes possible to express a fact,” and would
never allow a mere detail to detract from the unity
of the whole.
Sargent would always paint a head in one process,
though this would be repeated over multiple sit-
tings. He once said that he had repainted the head
of the portrait of Mrs. Hugh Hammersley (also ex-
hibited in London in 1893) no less than sixteen
times. According to another report, he “could paint
for a week on one head and never retrace his steps
— but he never attempted to correct one.” He nev-
er hesitated to rub out what he had done if he was
dissatisfied. “The lightness and certainty of his
touch was marvelous to behold. Never was there
any painter who could indicate a mouth with more
subtlety, with more mobility, or with keener dif-
ferentiation. As he painted it, the mouth bloomed
out of the face, an integral part of it, not, as in the
great majority of portraits, painted on it, a separate
thing.”
Always keeping the structure of the whole in
view and never tinkering with something that was
wrong, he was able to keep the whole process
fresh. Though he could work quickly and near per-
fectly, the speedy work would often have to be
done over many times. But this also gave the artist
time to discern the subject’s personality and char-
acter.
Sargent would at times come to a point of near de-
spair of getting it right. On one occasion he had
to give up over the impossibility of capturing “the
John Singer Sargent
Lady Agnew of Lochnaw 1892 oil on canvas 49 x 39 1/4”
National Gallery of Scotland, Edinburgh
variable and fleeting
charm” of his friend Eliza
Wedgwood’s mother af-
ter twelve sittings. Some
time later he saw Mrs.
Wedgwood in town, and
struck with a new aspect
he said, “If you will come
up next week we will fin-
ish that portrait.” Here
was his genius at work.
He knew when he had to
stop, get away, and wait
for the right inspiration.
He completed the por-
trait in six sittings.
John Singer Sargent
Mrs. Hugh Hammersley, 1892
oil on canvas 81 x 45 1/2”.
Metropolitan Museum of Art,
New York
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