
T.S. Eliot
by Patrick Heron, 1949 |
When
one of the Gallery's Trustees, Claire Tomalin, met with A.S.
Byatt in 1994 to discuss possible artists for a portrait, she
indicated that she would like Patrick Heron to undertake the
commission, as an admirer of his much earlier semi-cubist image
of T.S. Eliot in the Gallery collection. 'You do want an abstract
portrait', Heron asked, when Byatt met him for lunch to discuss
the idea. This was indeed exactly what she wanted, what the artist
described as 'a painting which is also a portrait'. |
|

Patrick Heron
in The Camellia Garden
at Eagles Nest
by Susanna Heron, 1998

Dame Antonia Susan
('A.S.') Byatt
by Patrick Heron
charcoal,1995

Dame Antonia Susan
('A.S.') Byatt; Patrick Heron
by Charles Robert
Saumarez Smith,1998
|
Later A.S. Byatt recorded an
interview for the Gallery audioguide interview, 'I think there
were two reasons why I wanted an abstract painting. One is that
I do not like looking at images of myself, the second reason
is because I don't like, to be truthful, most representational
portraits I see nowadays. What I wanted was the presence of the
idea of me, not of a record of the whole of my face that I don't
much like.'
The portrait was the result of
three visits to Heron's St Ives studio in Cornwall, and was completed
shortly before the artist died. On Byatt's first visit in March
1995, she sat down to be drawn on the last evening: 'I recognised
an anxiety before the blank paper which corresponds to the writer's
anxiety before the blank page - only in the case of a portrait,
this anxiety is doubled, both sitter and artist are anxious.'
But a drawing did result from this sitting. A further visit took
place in June 1996 and a final one, accompanied at her suggestion
by the Gallery Director, Charles Saumarez Smith, followed to
the artist's studio in September 1997.
Much work was then done over
three days and at the end the portrait was completed quite suddenly
and decisively, as Byatt has recounted. 'When it was finished,
I did not know what to think for a moment. We both stared. I
had a curious experience of it settling into shape, becoming
itself, as I looked at it. The energy, the brashness, the uncompromising
splashes of primary colour represented what I had wanted in an
abstract portrait by a great colourist. But they represented
something else as well. They were a painting of the writer, of
how I feel when I start work, a vanishing, watching body in a
sea of light and brilliance.'
Commissioned by the Trustees,
1995
|