Reviews #3
It is perhaps unusual to see an exhibition of drawings and paintings by a 16th century German artist that isn't Albrecht Dürer receive rapturous reviews in British newspapers: Holbein is a name that plenty of museum-goers know, but only in the context of a few fairly conservative portraits dotted around London collections (including of course, The Ambassadors). The exhibition at the Queen's Gallery seeks to change this perception radically, by presenting the largest number of the artist's works exhibited in Britain in decades, all taken from a collection which includes more of his work than any other.
Holbein's vivacious portrait drawings form the bedrock of the exhibition, with the walls of one of the larger galleries lined with his immediately recognisable portraits. Many of the sheets are coloured in the distinctive pink-red wash that Holbein applied to create a ready-made skin tone for his sitters. What is a revelation to those not so familiar with Holbein is his highly original use of watercolours: in the portrait of James Butler, we see a luminous red hat whose colour has hardly dimmed since its creation; while a careful examination of almost all of his drawings reveals small touches of colour in his sitters’ features.
The exhibition also displays a number of paintings, several of which are unexpected: upon entering the exhibition, one is greeted with Holbein’s Noli me Tangere, one of the artist's first works produced in England. This is the only strictly religious painting in the exhibition, and it suggests a path which Holbein never felt compelled to go down. A fascinating juxtaposition follows immediately after this work in the form of Girolamo da Treviso's Protestant Allegory. Although we may think of Holbein as being the definitive 'Tudor artist', he was only the third highest-salaried artist in Henry VIII's court. Girolamo was paid three times as much for his services as Holbein was and yet his posthumous reputation has never risen to the same heights.
Holbein's own portrait paintings are among the finest examples of their time and their crispness and verisimilitude continues to amaze. The exhibition makes a point of placing drawings with their associated paintings where possible, which provides valuable insight into Holbein's working methods (here a change of angle, there an addition of a decorative background). There are several drawings among the group which are certainly much less finished and, arguably, less accomplished than others; however, this is effectively explained by demonstrating their utility rather than focusing entirely on their beauty.
Unfortunately, the addition of paintings by anonymous artists of Tudor figures - Henry VIII and the boy-king, Edward VI - do little beyond adding atmosphere. Though the latter is an impressive picture, it is no Holbein, and the lack of any known paintings by the German artist of the King or his son is a great shame. Another issue with the show is less unavoidable regrettably, and that is the difficulty in getting close enough to Holbein's beautiful miniatures. Holbein may not have been as brilliant, original or modern-seeming as his contemporaries in the Italian courts, but there is certainly more to him than many of the portrait artists that dominated British taste in the 17th and 18th century, and this exhibition goes a long way to showing the remarkable range of his talents.