HenÂry James, perÂhaps the most famous AmerÂiÂcan expaÂtriÂate novÂelÂist of the nineÂteenth cenÂtuÂry, won a great deal of his fame with The PorÂtrait of a Lady. John Singer SarÂgent, perÂhaps the most famous AmerÂiÂcan expaÂtriÂate painter of the nineÂteenth cenÂtuÂry, won a great deal of his fame with a porÂtrait of a lady — but not before it seemed to kill his illusÂtriÂous career at a stroke. When it was first shown to the pubÂlic at the Paris Salon of 1884, SarÂgenÂt’s PorÂtrait of Madame X drew a range of reacÂtions from bitÂter disÂmissal to near-vioÂlent anger. But today, as Great Art Explained host James Payne says in the new video above, “it is genÂuineÂly hard to see what the fuss was about.”
“TwenÂty years before, in 1865, Manet had shown Olympia at the Salon, to a scanÂdalÂized Paris. So why the shock now? The difÂferÂence was that Manet’s Olympia was a prosÂtiÂtute, like the women in Toulouse-Lautrec’s paintÂing also on disÂplay in 1884. But Madame X was part of French high sociÂety.” She was, all those first viewÂers would have known, the socialite, banker’s wife, and “proÂfesÂsionÂal beauÂty” VirÂginie AmĂ©lie AvegÂno Gautreau. Her rumored penÂchant for infiÂdeliÂties wouldÂn’t have been unusuÂal for her parÂticÂuÂlar place and time, but her backÂground as the New Orleans-born daughÂter of a EuroÂpean CreÂole famÂiÂly cerÂtainÂly would have.
BeholdÂing Madame X, “Parisians were forced to conÂfront their own decaÂdence, which they preÂferred not to acknowlÂedge, and this was where SarÂgent went wrong. The salons were a sacroÂsanct part of French culÂture, and he, a forÂeignÂer, was flauntÂing immoralÂiÂty in their faces with a paintÂing of anothÂer forÂeignÂer, an exotÂic one at that.” He’d already stirred up a cerÂtain amount of conÂtroÂverÂsy three years earÂliÂer with Dr. Pozzi at Home, anothÂer full-length porÂtrait that porÂtrayed its subÂject – the highÂly accomÂplished and notoÂriÂousÂly handÂsome gyneÂcolÂoÂgist Samuel-Jean Pozzi — in a manÂner whose sheer inforÂmalÂiÂty verges on the conÂcuÂpisÂcent.
Payne thus regards Dr. Pozzi and Madame X as “male-female verÂsions of the same type. They are both flamÂboyÂant peaÂcock figÂures, with a streak of vanÂiÂty and a knack for seducÂtion. There is someÂthing in the way they are posed which is unconÂvenÂtionÂal. They have an indiÂrect gaze, and they both have supreme conÂfiÂdence vergÂing on arroÂgance.” That only SarÂgent could have — or, at least, would have — capÂtured and transÂmitÂted those qualÂiÂties with such directÂness wasÂn’t appreÂciÂatÂed quite so much at the time. OstraÂcized in Paris, where he’d been a sought-after porÂtraitist to the wealthy, he packed up Madame X and set off for LonÂdon, where he soon rebuilt his career. The advice to do so came from none othÂer than HenÂry James, who knew a thing or two about advanÂtaÂgeous reloÂcaÂtion.
RelatÂed conÂtent:
When John Singer Sargent’s “Madame X” ScanÂdalÂized the Art World in 1884
Based in Seoul, ColÂin Marshall writes and broadÂcasts on cities, lanÂguage, and culÂture. His projects include the SubÂstack newsletÂter Books on Cities, the book The StateÂless City: a Walk through 21st-CenÂtuÂry Los AngeÂles and the video series The City in CinÂeÂma. FolÂlow him on TwitÂter at @colinmarshall or on FaceÂbook.
