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John Singer Sargent, 'Synagogue', 1890

 

So often is John Singer Sargent defined by his society portraits which from the late 1870s, gave him international fame, a distinct style and elite client opportunities. The recent exhibition at Tate Britain successfully defined the artist through 'fashion' and his upper-class portraits with their quick, confident brushwork and equally commanding figural depictions. Studied less often, however, are the mural works by Sargent at Boston's public library which took the artist three decades to accomplish. The allegorical figure of the Synagogue, a particularly controversial design, seems to have been produced by a different artist entirely. Gone is the elegant pose of Madame X, or the sumptuous clothing of Madame Subercaseaux reclining at her pianoforte, or even the engaging, demur stare of Lady Agnew of Lochnaw. Sargent instead portrays an allegory turned in on itself and away from the viewer, swaddled in orientalising, claustrophobic folds. 

Sargent's sources are very clear here, and contemporaries remarked on his intellect and careful study of other cultures, travelling extensively to consult artistic monuments. The artist himself, according to Sally Promey, explained the link between his murals and sculptural reliefs by drawing on the Gothic medievalism at Reims and Strasbourg. Certainly, Sargent brings a sculptural quality to not only the stony pallor of the figure's skin, but the muscularity of the arms and hands. Equally, it brings to mind the murals of Michelangelo at the Sistine Chapel and more specifically his sibyls. The broad shoulders and muscular hands of the Cumaean Sibyl seem to be particularly influential to the creation of Sargent's own allegory. Therefore, the artist in question was highlighting his ability to synthesise sources, Medieval and Renaissance, to produce a unique allegorical figure. Additionally, he was dealing with the constraints of a barrel vaulted interior on the library's uppermost floor. Once more he recalled the Renaissance artists who frescoed monumental interiors, including Giotto in the Arena Chapel (another barrel vaulted interior). Sargent was exploring spatiality and the rendering of figures through foreshortening and depth, whilst also looking to create a unique and expressive allegorical image. 

As a portrayal of the Synagogue, the work was not without controversy. The artist chose to position the allegorical figure opposite a depiction of Hell. It seems likely this was a deliberate dialogue and sightline, as was often the case in barrel vaulted interiors - again, Giotto's Arena Chapel is a key example of this coincidentia oppositorum or confrontation of meaningful opposites. Furthermore, the Synagogue was seen to juxtapose the personification of the Church beside it. A brief comparison highlights this: the youthful, graceful, angelic-like Church juxtaposed with the aging Synagogue, unbalanced, with twisted limbs squashed tightly together and most importantly, unseeing through the inclusion of the blindfold. Within the context of early twentieth century America concerning immigration debates and increasingly anti-Semitic prejudices, Sargent's allegory was conceived as a negative, demoralising portrayal of the Jewish religion. A hearing in 1922 considered the removal of the work and two years later it was splashed with ink. This resulted in the stationing of a guard beside the image within the public library space.

Yet, if a viewer judges the image on an aesthetic, formal basis, they see a truly original and interesting depiction. The palette is muted, the composition claustrophobic and it is only made three-dimensional by the thick rolls of fabric that reveal the figure. There is movement, drama, action and emotion, despite the fact that the figure's face is tucked away. The crown slipping off the head of the Synagogue is particularly effective in this regard, catching the light as it topples. The turned head of the figure almost gives the sense that she has shook the crown off herself, but blindfolded she cannot see the true effect of this movement. Sargent's work is representative of a host of artists from the time, both in America and Britain, who were working in this fantastical, fin de siècle vein. Angelic, mystical beings in a controlled, ephemeral colour palette followed on from the Pre-Raphaelites and began to permeate the work of artists including G.F Watts. Many of the artists working during this period also shared the goal of mural painting itself, which they believed to be superior to portraiture. Sargent's oeuvre needs to be opened up and expanded from 'society portraitist'. His creation of unique allegories and personifications have a wealth of potential meanings which deserve to be unpicked. 

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