Portrait of John Singer Sargent, 1889
By Giovanni Boldini



here are important lessons for every working portrait artist to be gained from the study of John Singer Sargent's portraits of children. Ample opportunity for this was provided by the Brooklyn Museum in their major exhibition Great Expectations: John Singer Sargent Painting Children.


Portraits of children comprise a huge percentage of contemporary portrait practice. Several of today's major portrait brokerages find portraits of children making up as much as 90% of their annual business totals. Many, many artists across the country are active in this field. We find it unfortunate that the major lessons to be learned from Sargent are being regularly ignored by far too many of today's artists.


The first lesson from Sargent is apparent from the examples on this page: i.e., the artist should treat the child subject as one would an adult subject. In far too many contemporary children's portraits, the subject is portrayed in a candid, animated pose, betraying the image's origins in an unposed photographic snapshot. In contrast, in a Sargent portrait, the child sits or stands opposite the artist, in complete soberness and dignity, and comes across in the painting as a full-fledged human being of significance.


The portrait of Caspar Goodrich shows us a thoughtful young lad of, perhaps, nine or ten years, arms crossed in a manly pose, regarding the world with a very composed, level glance. The only concession to childhood is the then-popular sailor suit. This dark suit is expressed by the artist in a most summary fashion, with sweeping broad strokes of very fluid black paint. No labor at all is expended on a careful rendering of the folds and details of the suit. The background is struck in with broad washes of liquid color.


The Ormond Children (son and daughter of Sargent's sister Violet) sit side by side in contemplation of the great artist who is rendering their likenesses — neither child quite sure what to make of the experience.


Daniel Macmillan is painted — just head and shoulders — on a tiny canvas, but very expressive and resolute.


Alice Vanderbilt Shepard looks to our right and downward, avoiding our gaze. Her expression is one of far-away composure and thoughtfulness. What a striking contrast between this handsome, dignified portrayal and much of the sentimental foolishness that passes for child portraiture in the twenty-first century!


Even little Dorothy has a grown-up pose, sitting in her great chair dutifully, and enduring her Victorian costume with determination. The result is quite charming. We are forced to consider Dorothy as a human individual of substance, in spite of her very few years.


John Alfred Parsons Millet looks down from his fortress of pillows and wears his long curls with dignity.

By now, my artist colleagues who paint children's portraits (I don't) are readying their objections to this line of commentary. I have been assured hundreds of times that "parents demand a cute, informal, casual pose" preferably with a smiling expression.


That may well be the reality confronting the contemporary painter of children's portraits. But I nevertheless challenge all artists to work diligently to put distance between themselves and the photographic reference that so obviously lies behind so many painted images. The best way to do that is to study the images of Sargent's portraits of children.