ING: The Humbling Ego of Portraits

When was the last time you considered a photo or reproduced image of yourself? "Considered" as in stopped in front of it and stood there for a while, considering how the image represents you to yourself and to others and how it makes you feel. When you take the time to do so, you may be surprised to see how much it affects you, then proceeds to remind you that no ego is powerful enough to fight the tides of time.

Joséphine-Éléonore-Marie-Pauline de Galard de Brassac de Béarn (1825-1860), Princess de Broglie. Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres. 1851-53. Oil on canvas. The Metropolitan Museum, New York.

Ego is powerful, indeed. All it takes is a color that complements one ego, to capture the attention of another person and thus another ego. When I walked by this painting the other day, it made me stop in my tracks without any seeming reason. As I stood in front of it for a while, with the initial awe for technique and pigmentation fading away, I started to consider it. I started to think about the princess (and future countess) looking at me, and how she may have been looking at the painter in the same way. I started to think about her dress and how beautiful yet uncomfortable it looked, and whether she felt any resentment for standing for such a long period of time-- and indeed whether she had even stood for this portrait or the artist had taken several liberties with only an initial impression. Not much empathy was lent though, as I concluded these thoughts with, "Well, she's still a princess."

Sure enough, I couldn't help but be drawn next to her beautiful jewelry, beginning with the gold and no doubt heavy necklace, moving down the lace trimmings to her equally sumptuous gold bracelet then to the layers of draped pearls hanging delicately off her just offhand enough wrist. Finishing with her ring, which glistens above the sheen layers of her multi-layer garment, I was left overwhelmed and voyerous as I ultimately considered the tragedy of portraits that is to represent confidence but be criticized perpetually depending on people's values of...value. My values of life do not align with those of the princess, understandably and uncompromisingly so, and so while I can lend her my admiration and appreciation, both are likely to be at best temporary and at worst tempestuous. And actually, maybe it would be more accurate to say that the admiration and appreciation go towards the artist.

Maybe portraits are not meant to be taken so seriously, and maybe they are just remnants of ego left behind as the result of a very human desire to be remembered and to remain. After all, we would not blame our loved ones for wanting one, and maybe even gift them such an object. But at the same time, our loved ones are simply people in paintings to the millions and billions of other viewers around the world-- and so we are left with the feeling that portraits are all at once the ultimate "ego" of mankind and the ultimate meaningless manifestation of our futile efforts to fight time and resist the inevitability of forgotten history.