Strapped

“Study of Mme Gautreau,” above left, by John Singer Sargent. 1884.
(Tate Britain, London) This preparatory study shows evidence of Sargent’s initial
dilemma – a shoulder without any strap at all. At right, “Portrait of Madame X,”
by John Singer Sargent. 1884. (Metropolitan Museum of Art, N.Y.)
The finished, then revised portrait sported a new name and an adjusted strap.

Copyright © Edward Riojas

John Singer Sargent should have seen it coming. “Portrait of Mme ***” had the markings of something titillating, salacious and naughty. Sargent had pulled out his artistic license and boldly used it on a small detail of the strangely-titled salon entry. Attendees of the 1884 Paris Salon scrutinized everything, noticed the detail and devoured Sargent’s faux pas.

Sargent painted a stunning portrait of American expatriate Virgine Amelie Avegno Gautreau in noble profile and wearing black satin. It was not a commissioned piece – the artist sought out Ms. Gautreau as a sitter. She was a rare beauty among Parisians and was, in essence, a precursor to the “bombshell” persona. The viewer needn’t make a second guess whether she was a “looker” – she was.

Sargent’s talent as portrait painter was well known among the well-heeled of his day. As an expatriate himself, the artist schmoozed with the movers and shakers of European society, as well as upper crust folks in The States, and he chose as his salon entry a feminine subject who was favored in the highest circles.

But Sargent did the unthinkable: He painted one strap off Gautreau’s shoulder. [Gasp!] With that small detail, the artist pushed artistic boundaries too far. A strap off the shoulder in those days meant more than a simple wardrobe malfunction – it was saucy, suggestive and seductive. It was enough to raise eyebrows and drop jaws, and it did just that. One can almost hear the timeless echo of pince nez and monocles clattering on parquet floors.

Sargent deliberately used “Mme***” in the piece’s title to retain anonymity for the subject, but Sargent was spot-on with his likenesses and the little secret all but evaporated in the controversy. So did his chances for future commissions in Paris. He repainted the strap in a more acceptable position, renamed the piece “Portrait of Madame X” and left France. Permanently.

It may seem strange that a small detail would cause such a fuss, but that is looking at history with modern eyes. We hardly notice the masterpiece, much less the strap, when we are daily faced with far greater suggestive images. We have become immune to the provocative and profane to the point that both have become mundane.

Perhaps the art world took cues from the ‘Madame X’ incident. Avant-garde art slowly pushed decency boundaries into the hinterlands and today outpaces what is acceptable through increasingly shocking images. Shock value is an important ingredient with those who strive not for excellence, but simple notice. An artistic niche is no longer viewed as something small and intimate – it is large, loud and unavoidable. Throw in “irritating” for good measure.

Perhaps we can add perspective by comparing “Portrait of Madame X” with something a bit more modern. Let’s have ‘Madame X’ and her strap get cozy with a strapping young man in the visage of “Colossus (Self-Portrait on a Cold Day)” by Benjamin Entner. This piece was last seen attempting to fill the cavernous environs of The Grand Rapids Art Museum during ArtPrize 2014. Both titles are bound to elicit a snicker or two, but the latter is just plain juvenile – almost as juvenile as the piece itself. We laugh at the title, but the poorly-rendered drawing and in-your-face schlock are no laughing matter. The shock value is obvious. Flaunting of artistic license is deliberate. However, responses to both pieces by their respective audiences in no way put “Portrait of Madame X” and “Colossus” in the same class.

Sargent may have obtained an ego by hobnobbing with the socialites of his day, but there is more than substance enough to back him up. An abundance of masterful works, such as his portraits of Lady Agnew of Lochnaw, Beatrice Townsend, and the Daughters of Edward Darley Boit,  provocative and moody compositions, such as “El Jaleo” and “A Parisian Beggar Girl” and head studies of Rosina Ferrara and “Ana Capri Girl” only scratch the surface of an exceedingly deep portfolio. Sargent’s work underscored his being the epitome of a painter and portraitist par excellence. It still does. Mr. Entner has only his inflated, um, ego.