John Singer Sargent: Portraits of Wertheimer Family [Paperback]

John Singer Sargent (Author), Norman L. Kleebatt (Author), Norman L. Kleeblatt (Author), N. Y.) Jewish Museum (New York (Author)

Product Details

• Paperback: 96 pages
• Publisher: Jewish Museum (August 1999)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 0873340779
• ISBN-13: 978-0873340779
• Product Dimensions: 10.9 x 7.4 x 0.4 inches
• Shipping Weight: 10.4 ounces
• Average Customer Review: 4.0 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (1 customer review)
• Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #2,676,443 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

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1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:

4.0 out of 5 stars A wonderful synergy and collaboration., October 8, 2007

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Peter McReynolds (California U S) - See all my reviews
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This review is from: John Singer Sargent: Portraits of Wertheimer Family (Paperback)

I suppose that I bought this because of years of admiration for both Sargent and his friends, the Wertheimer family. Lord knows, it took me a few years to finally get a copy. The museum didn't anticipate the demand beyond just those attending the show in New York and printed too few copies.
Wertheimer was a Jewish dealer in art in turn of the 20th Century London. And the son of an arts dealer. Depending upon your character, you believe that he, with a good eye, presciently recognized the talent of the young Sargent newly settled in Britain and took a warm, avuncular and genuine liking to the man. Or you believe that Wertheimer cunningly assessed the odds and profits about this budding art star and, perhaps via some Mesmer, clouded Sargent under his dark and Asian spells. In fact, Wertheimer commisioned, and that seems too commercial a word for the relationship, young Sargent to paint Wertheimer's family. Asher invited Sargent into his home to paint anything that struck Sargent. Well, yes, even the several and beloved family dogs. Sadly, the lead painting of the group, of Asher Wertheimer and his favorite black poodle, was declared "too oriental" by the art critics of London. Yes, in this published, scarcely disguised bigotry Asher was said too oriental a subject and presumably his poodle too. This book, intentionally or not, presents both sides of the issue. On the one hand, argument is made that Sargent caught the man (and his family) just as he was, interior and exterior. Brilliantly. Contrariwise, there is criticism that such accuracy was also bigotry. Asher was given too oriental a face. But, accurately? For me this book really descends into a sort of circular schizophrenia. Sargent paints Asher with his beloved poodle and a signature cigar, both interpreted as included due some malevolent artistic eye. The cigar or just the pose and poise of Asher's hand with the cigar is interpreted as a grasping. I'm only a simple artist. To me I see only an affectionate and accurate depiction of a mentor returning the good feeling. Yet absolutely brilliantly done. Pure genius. The poodle in the lower left a museum worthy portrait in its own right. How was Asher supposed to be portrayed, as an Eskimo? Should he have been holding a frying pan? Should Asher have appeared open, with lolling carmine tongue but the poodle hooded and quick? Hey, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar! What anal and hyperanalytical nonsense.
But I go on too long. The quality of the reproductions is not the best. There is the unnecessary inclusion of some fiction, some novella if you will about sitting for Sargent. Trevor Fairbrother has an essay viewing Sargent (again) through his mauve-colored lenses explaining at least some of Sargent's genius as due Sargent's putative homosexuality. And at least some reasonableness in the booklet setting the Wertheimer commisions in the context of the ubiquitous and sometimes quite nasty antisemitism of the times.
I have this little and little more than booklet as an item of those times. I admire Sargent. I admire Asher Wertheimer and his family and am grateful for his support of Sargent early in his career. I can readily agree that both men genuinely liked each other and their families. I am glad that Wertheimer donated the some dozen paintings to the Tate. I'm glad that some other (Jewish) person donated the money the Tate said it need to display the suite. Although it isn't always crystal clear from the account in this book, the partnership of Wertheimer and Sargent was a triumph for art and for humanity. The show and this accompanying little book surely were intended to document and celebrate this fact. It succeeded only in part.