When most of us think of Gilbert Stuart, we envision iconic  portraits of George Washington and other leaders of the new  republic. This greatest of early American portraitists certainly  did create enduring likenesses of our first group of presidents,  and other prominent figures of the day. As a wonderful exhibition  at the National Gallery documents, however, Stuart’s artistic  legacy also includes splendid images of lesser-known figures in  both America and England. For pure aesthetic enjoyment, the  latter sometimes outshine his portraits of statesmen.   “Gilbert Stuart,” which opened last fall at The Metropolitan  Museum of Art and will be on view at the National Gallery through  July 31, is the artist’s first retrospective in four decades.  With more than 90 works from all periods of Stuart’s long career,  the show documents his genius at capturing the appearance and  character of his sitters through his choice of pose and  expression.   Organized by the Met and the National Portrait Gallery, the  exhibition is curated by Carrie Rebora Barratt, curator of  American paintings and sculpture at the Met, and Ellen G. Miles,  chair of the department of painting and sculpture at the Portrait  Gallery. Since the latter is closed for renovations until next  year, the exhibition is displayed at its nearby sister  institution, the National Gallery. An outstanding catalog  underscores the beauty of this show and why Stuart (1755-1828)  was the most successful American portrait painter of his day. A large, formal, well-mannered gentleman, Stuart wasoutgoing, eloquent, cranky, rebellious and irreverent. He possessedunusual insights into human nature; his great strength was hisability to convey the personalities of his sitters.   Stuart was, unfortunately, an artistic procrastinator and inept  in business matters; he was perpetually in debt. The fact that he  and his British-born wife had 12 children and that he lived  extravagantly added to his financial burdens.   The son of a snuff miller who had recently emigrated from  Scotland, Stuart was born in North Kingston, R.I. His birthplace  was an Eighteenth Century gambrel-roofed house in which the snuff  mill occupied the lower floor and the family lived in the upper  two stories. The house, located in what is now called  Saunderstown, is maintained by a local foundation and is open to  the public during warmer months. (To visit, it is best to call  ahead, 401-294-3001.)   Raised after the age of 6 in the bustling commercial and cultural  city of Newport, R.I., Stuart’s early talent for drawing led to  an apprenticeship with a visiting Scottish portrait painter,  Cosmo Alexander, who took the precocious teenager to Edinburgh in  1772.   Returning to Newport after a year abroad, Stuart found ready  commissions for likenesses painted in the linear, Scottish  manner. Among others, he depicted his good friend “Benjamin  Waterhouse,” 1775, later a doctor who helped found the Harvard  Medical School and introduced smallpox vaccine in America.   At the outset of the American Revolution, Stuart’s loyalist  family fled to Nova Scotia and he, at the age of 19, moved to  London. He was befriended there by American expatriate painter  Benjamin West, history painter to King George III, who served as  mentor to a number of young American artists. While serving as an  assistant in West’s studio, the young American’s work became more  sophisticated, with improved use of color and composition and  freer brushwork.   Stuart’s compelling “Self-Portrait” of 1778, influenced by West’s  recent self-portrait that was derived from a self-portrait by  Dutch titan Peter Paul Rubens of 1623, suggests the young  painter’s increasing skill at painting a polished, perceptive  likeness.   Under the influence of West and such contemporary British  painting luminaries as Thomas Gainsborough and Sir Joshua  Reynolds, Stuart created innovative compositions, notably his  striking depiction of a handsome young Scottish barrister in “The  Skater (William Grant),” 1782. Designed for display at a Royal  Academy of Arts exhibition and measuring an eye-attracting 961/4  by 58 inches, this work was unusual for the size of its portrayal  of physical exertion. It is a greatly admired treasure in the  National Gallery’s collection.   Two of Stuart’s most interesting likenesses, both now in the  collection of the National Portrait Gallery in London, suggest  his increasing ability to capture the personality of his sitters.  In the portrait of his mentor West, 1783-84, the stern-looking  artist holds a Bible, reflecting his identity as a religious  painter. Another American painter in Britain, John Singleton  Copley, was depicted, circa 1784, in a flattering manner, erect  and resolute, backed by fluffy clouds.   Another highlight of the current exhibition is Copley’s  audaciously unsparing portrait of Reynolds, president of the  Royal Academy and principal painter to the king, who was shown as  the dear, snuff-addicted crank he had become in his 60s. This  compelling work is from the National Gallery’s collection.   By the early 1790s, George Washington’s leadership in the  American Revolution and his inauguration as the nation’s first  president had made him a celebrated figure on both sides of the  Atlantic. After 18 years abroad, Stuart decided to return to his  homeland to paint the hero’s portrait and “make a fortune by  Washington alone.” He left behind not only debts, but also a  number of unfinished portraits.   Initially, Stuart stopped in New York, a thriving city filled  with potential patrons, but nearly devoid of accomplished  portrait painters. He launched a strategic campaign to paint  portraits of people who could help him gain an entree to George  Washington.   Among others, he depicted representatives of the old landed  aristocracy, new merchant elite and leaders of the American  Revolution. For General Horatio Gates, the hero of the Battle of  Saratoga, he created in 1793-94 an idealized military likeness  that is at once strong, elegant and monumental. This fine canvas  is owned by the Met.   Another high-ranking client, Chief Justice of the United States  John Jay, undaunted by Stuart’s failure to complete two portraits  in London, sat for the painter again in New York. “Stuart’s  extraordinary gift of characterization through physiognomic  accuracy combined with creative choice of pose is well  represented in the Jay likeness [1794],” says Miles. Garbed in a  Harvard academic robe, with his hand on a book, Jay looks every  inch the noble statesman. Jay provided Stuart with a letter of  introduction to Washington, which paved the way for the  relatively unknown painter to create his first portrait of the  president.   Prime examples of the care and aesthetic skills Stuart devoted to  painting less famous figures are his pendant portraits of Richard  and Catherine Bass Yates, 1793-94. In the more conventional  likeness, he showed the slightly rumpled, wealthy businessman  working at his desk.   By contrast, the much-admired painting of Mrs Yates shows a  focused, no-nonsense lady clothed in a shimmering silver outfit,  deftly manipulating needle and thread. She emerges from this  unsparing yet captivating depiction as the epitome of knowing  elegance. Little wonder that, over the years, this canvas has  drawn admiring comparisons to the likes of Chardin and Vermeer  and, particularly, to Veláquez. It is a high point of the  exhibition.   Moving on to the capital of Philadelphia, where he stayed from  1794 to 1803, Stuart used Jay’s precious letter of introduction  to obtain sittings with Washington. Depictions of “The Great Man”  were in great demand, and Stuart was anxious to cash in.   The painter’s usual technique for encouraging appropriate  expressions and poses from his subjects was to engage them in  lively conversation. Stuart’s charm and banter failed, however,  to enliven his reserved sitter. As National Gallery director Earl  A. Powell III put it, “Washington didn’t enjoy Stuart’s talk.”  The artist eventually succeeded in engaging Washington by  discussing one of his favorite subjects, horses.   All of Stuart’s nearly 100 portraits of Washington – 13 of which  are in the show – derive from three life portraits. The first,  based on sittings in 1795, is now lost, but replicas of it are  identified as the “Vaughn portrait,” named for the first owner of  one of the copies. That canvas, in the National Gallery  collection, is echoed in the so-called “Gibbs-Channing-Avery  portrait,” begun in 1795, owned by the Met. Each shows a somber,  black-garbed Washington, his jaw firmly clenched, looking  somewhat warily at the viewer.   The first portrait was so successful that Martha Washington  commissioned Stuart to create a pair of likenesses of her and her  husband for display at their Virginia home, Mount Vernon. The  posing sessions were not easy: the president sat with a newly  acquired set of false teeth that created a bulge around his mouth  and distorted his jawline. Called the “Atheneum portraits,” 1796,  for the Boston library that acquired them after Stuart’s death,  these unfinished works were retained by the painter and used  throughout his career to make replicas.   Stuart considered this image of Washington his best. Notable for  the care with which he captured the skin tones of the subjects,  the pair are jointly owned by the National Portrait Gallery and  the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. The Atheneum portrait, printed  in reverse, has appeared on the $1 bill since 1918. It is the  best known of Stuart’s Washingtons.   In 1796, the president posed a third time for a full-length  canvas that shows him in a formal black velvet suit appropriate  to his role as a civilian leader. The composition, replete with  objects symbolic of Washington’s distinguished military and  civilian careers, shows the chief executive with his hand  extended, as though making a speech. It is regarded as the best  visual summation of Washington’s public role as the nation’s  first president.   Measuring a sizable 971/2 by 621/2 inches, this compelling canvas  is known as the “Landsdowne portrait,” because it was  commissioned as a gift for the Marquis of Landsdowne. Much  admired in England and America, it was replicated by Stuart  several times.   In 2001, the Landsdowne, which had been on loan to the National  Portrait Gallery since 1968, was put up for sale by its owner,  Lord Dalmeny of London. In a grand, public-spirited gesture, the  Donald W. Reynolds Foundation in Las Vegas, Nev., committed $30  million to enable the Portrait Gallery to purchase this American  icon for its permanent collection.   Stuart procrastinated for years on completing fine, pendant  portraits of Washington’s successor, John Adams. and his wife,  Abigail Smith Adams. Begun in Philadelphia in 1800, when Adams  was in his last year as president, they were finished in Boston  15 years later. By that time, Mrs Adams wore a cap and shawl in  fashion at that time, and her husband was shown as he appeared at  age 80.   Another memorable, albeit unfinished, likeness is that of poet  Sarah Apthorp Morton (1800-02) from the collection of the  Worcester Art Museum. The sketchy quality of this fascinating  canvas, which focuses on the sitter’s beautiful face, enhances  what Miles calls “one of Stuart’s most sensual, expressive  images.”   By this time, according to Barratt, Stuart was “the finest artist  in America.” After nine years in Philadelphia, he moved to  Washington in 1803, where he painted some 40 portraits in 18  months. Of special interest is the temporary reunion in theexhibition of Stuart’s 1804 portraits of future president JamesMadison (owned by Colonial Williamsburg) and his elegant, outgoingwife, Dolley (White House collection). His likeness reflects hisserious, introspective nature, while his wife, already an importanthostess in the nation’s capital, appears almost demure, posedprimly and dressed in the latest French fashion.   Two fine portraits, dating to 1805-07, of President Thomas  Jefferson and Secretary of State James Madison were commissioned  by their admirer and supporter, James Bowdoin III. They are now  prized possessions of the Bowdoin College Museum of Art, the  college he established in his father’s honor in Brunswick, Maine.   Stuart spent the last 23 years of his life in Boston, where he  finished two versions of intense portraits of President James  Monroe (1817 and 1821) that capture his direct gaze and slightly  pursed lips. In one of his last works, Stuart immortalized  90-year-old former president John Adams (1823-24) in a poignant  likeness of the blue-eyed old statesman that reflects his  frailty, dignity and alertness. This iconic image is a tribute to  both Adams’s strong personality and Stuart’s enduring abilities  in his own final years.   As curators Barratt and Miles write, “At a time when portraits  were used in the United States to celebrate national achievements  and public heroes, as well as the self-aware experiences of  private individuals, Stuart set higher standards in portrait  painting for his sitters, his colleagues and his students.” This  exhibition solidifies his standing as the preeminent painter of  early national America. The lavishly illustrated, 338-page  catalog, written by Barratt and Miles, contains insightful essays  on each work in the exhibition, as well as related paintings. It  will be the definitive study of the art of Gilbert Stuart for  many years to come.   Published by The Metropolitan Museum of Art in association with  Yale University Press, it sells for $65 hardcover and $45  softcover.   The National Gallery of Art is on the National Mall between  3rd and 9th Streets at Constitution Avenue. For information,  202-737-4215 or www.nga.gov.          
 
    



 
						