by Jon Lackman | 4 October 2010 | Books, Modern, Museums
The Hungarian-British portrait painter Philip de László (1869-1937) has been the subject of a determined revival campaign led by some of the artist’s descendents. They have been creating a catalogue raisonné, organizing the artist’s archives, and sponsoring exhibitions and publications. The effort began bearing fruit in 2004 and culminated most recently in a National Portrait Gallery exhibition and the publication by Yale University Press of a new biography by the journalist and author Duff Hart-Davis. Reviewer Jan Marsh has written
Though his facility came close to being facile, one should not be too snobbish about his work. The fluent, spontaneous air of his work still catches the eye in a country house hallway. A small display this summer at the National Portrait Gallery showcases his stylishness, including a pretty view of the Queen Mother with “marble shoulder” underlining her blue blood.
Critic Richard Dorment has said, “I admire the portraits of Philip de Laszlo.” But, of course, not everyone is buying it. Critic A.A. Gill recently wrote:
Shameless fawning led Philip de Laszlo to become portraitist to the upper classes … [W]hile Sargent acidly noted that every time he painted a picture he lost a friend, Laszlo usually made friends … Laszlo uses a wet-on-wet style, which looks difficult and painterly, needs a deftness and sleight-of-hand practice, but it is essentially a trick for the benefit of those who don’t know much, distrust art and like their craft to be obvious. Aristocrats want to know what they’re paying for. He also left paintings unfinished — a fashionable and popular affectation, like taking the back off a watch so you can see the movement. But close up you can see his talent is far more clumsy and tentative than the distance leads you to believe. The surface runs from thin dribbles of linseed-thinned pigment to the clotted and crusty reworking of an insecure hand.
Nonetheless even Gill found himself charmed: “There is something contrarily wonderful about Laszlo, something foolishly admirable about his ridiculous flashiness, his deference, the exaggerated admiration, the unearned flatter. He is the end of the line.”
