Skip to main content

Charles West Cope, 'Portrait of Samuel Palmer', 1884

 


Charles West Cope's memorialisation of fellow painter Samuel Palmer, who died three years before this work was produced, is a small yet thoughtful etching which pulls a viewer closer. Palmer is aged and stooped, almost swaddled in layers of clothing, and leaning on the back of a chair as if to support himself, yet his gaze remains captivating and knowing.

It is an interesting choice by Cope to choose the medium of etching to honour Palmer, and perhaps an oil of the same subject did at one point exist, as this was his favoured material. Training at the Royal Academy and travelling to Paris in the 1830s to expand his artistic knowledge, Cope built a career initially upon copying Old Masters which he then sold, before he created his own painted representations of historical scenes and looked to imagery centred on rural life for further inspiration. Often, he drew on the minute detail and vivid colouration found in the Pre-Raphaelite mode of working: his The Thorn of 1866, for example, which depicts two small children wrapped together, one with a pin in her hand helping the other to remove the titular cause of pain, is surely inspired by Millais. However, Cope's portrait of Palmer proves his skill in printmaking, commemorating the artist-sitter in monochrome. Palmer is without the of his trade or implication of his skill surrounding him, but instead illustrated as an ordinary, ageing man for the viewer to personally connect to. 

From the swiftness of execution on the jacket of the sitter, to the in-depth shadowing on the hands and face to suggest age and weathering to the skin, Cope shows off his technical range. Both cross-hatching and thin, single lines close together and far apart have been utilised, as Cope conveys the different textures of clothing, the thinning, wispy hair of Palmer, and the grooves in the chair that he leans against. Palmer's gaze remains captivating and unblinking with deep, dark, inquisitive eyes, made all the more pertinent both by the slight tilt of his large head and the dark eyebrows arched above his eyes. His cheeks are hollowed, eyes sunken, and Cope gives the slightest suggestion of a vein peeling away from the top of the nose, towards the stippled marks at the back of the head. With his hands clasped in front of him, a gesture perhaps of thought and contemplation, coupled with the leaning pose, it is as if Palmer does indeed what to converse with an onlooker. Although his body remains tightly enclosed within the frame, there is a sense of connection and communication with the outside world that makes this small print particularly intimate and engaging. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Artemisia Gentileschi, 'Jael and Sisera', c.1620

  My eye firstly notices the hand wielding the hammer above the unsuspecting man's head. Gentileschi is depicting a new and particularly horrible kind of weapon here instead of the huge sword she gave Judith to slice Holofernes' head off in 1620. The tent peg seems all the more violent, especially as the viewer is looking at the split second before the deed has been committed. Moreover, the gaze of the women (Jael) is focused and calm, making the piece seem unnerving. This is not a moment of hesitation but a snapshot of action - the woman has made up her mind and will commit to this murder. The viewer can only imagine how Gentileschi would have depicted the bloody aftermath, in her usual violent and tenebristic way. The fact that the artist has signed her name in the tomb-like stone above the man is significant - she is signing his life away in this painting, sending him swiftly to the grave.  The body of the man (Sisera) is also interestingly depicted. He lies in a rather eff...
Post a Comment
Read more

John Everett Millais, 'Peace Concluded', 1856

  My eye is drawn to the copy of The Times clutched in the hands of the officer. The white of the figurine on the man's knee and the white of his wife's sleeves all serve to make the white paper stand out even more on the canvas. As the title of the painting suggests, this is about the end of the Crimean War, seemingly depicting a soldier who has just returned home, surrounded by his family, but the mood is perhaps less euphoric than you might expect. The soldier seems somber and weary, and his wife has a look of concern. Although on the surface it seems to be quite a harmonious composition representing a close knit and traditional family, the positioning of the man is odd. It is his wife who takes her place at the apex of the triangular composition, the soldier is reduced to an emasculated role, perhaps an invalid, as suggested by the blanket over his legs. Her face is passive, but not exactly positive. With her arms draped around her husband, she looks posed, dutiful but not...
Post a Comment
Read more

Cellini, 'Perseus with the Head of Medusa', 1545-1554

  My eye is immediately drawn to the head of Medusa. At first glance it looks gruesome, as though Cellini has captured the moment just after the head has been decapitated, and it oozes blood and bodily matter. However the viewer then notices the similarity between that and Medusa's hair. Maybe it is just her hair after all. Cellini has cleverly enticed the viewer in here, to take a closer look and therefore involved them in the sculpture as a whole. Once they do come closer, they begin to notice other things such as the similarity between Perseus' hair and Medusa's snakes. Hero and monster are not so separate. Even the features of their faces are very similar. Perhaps Cellini wants to suggest that evil can often wear the mask of good. Or he could even be implying that everyone has some evil within them, even the hero Perseus.  One of the good things about sculpture is that the viewer is able to walk around it, and fully immerse themselves in the piece. Cellini has used this...
Post a Comment
Read more