| After Sir Peter Lely, Kneller was seventeenth-century England's leading portrait painter. His career (spanning five reigns) forms an important link between the art of the late baroque and the early English rococo. Though Kneller enjoyed greal prominence in his own time, and was even hailed as the Shakespeare of English painting shortly after his death, his reputation went into a steep decline during the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Criticized for too often placing lucre over quality, Kneller became the victim of his own success in that his clients' demands could only be met by active studio assistance. Kneller's success ensured that his standard of living was far above the average painter's, but it often sacrificed quality to quantity. Nonetheless, modern scholars recognize the high level of many of Kneller's efforts, particularly those before 1700f when age and official demands began to distract him. Christened Gottfried Kniller in Lubeck, the son of a city surveyer, Kneller is thought to have been born in 1646 (if the inscription on his tomb is correct, which gives his age as seventy-seven when he died in 1723). Some early sources give his birthdate as 1749, based on Kneller's own accounts. Kneller went to Leiden University to study mathematics around 1660/2, but then chose painting as his profession and moved to Amsterdam. That city was an excellent training ground, since at that time it was home to many of the finest portrait artists of the day, including the aging Rembrandt* as well as Bartholomeus van der Heist.* Kneller reportedly studied under Ferdinand Bol* as well as Bol's great master, Rembrandt. Kneller's studies must have been completed when he left for Italy in 1663. Kneller's early pictures, such as his Elijah and the Angel (dated 1672, London, Tate Gallery), still reflect Bol's influence. In the year that picture was painted, Kneller may have gone to Italy again, where, according to his contemporary biographer, Buckeridge, he studied the works of Carlo Maratta* and Bernini, and looked at Raphael as well as at antiquity. One of his most spontaneous early portraits, that of Sebastiano Bombelli (dated 1675, Udine, Museo Civico), must have been done as a result of his trip. Kneller returned to Germany in 1674, then moved to England the following year, where John Banckes, a German merchant living in England, gave him housing and became his patron. Around this time he undoubtedly anglicized his name to Godfrey Kneller. Through Banckes, Kneller met James Vernon, secretary to the Duke of Monmouth, who in turn introduced him to James Scott (one of Charles IPs illegitimate sons). Scott promotted Kneller with his father. Several fine early portraits, including that of Heir von Copet (signed and dated 1675, Heidelberg, KurpfSlzisches Museum) and that of Thomas Fredenhagen and Katharina Fredenhagen (signed and also dated 1675, Lubeck, St. Annen-Museum), show Kneller working in well-established Dutch traditions. His portrait of Mr. Copet is particularly striking, as it shows the sitter lost in thought in a manner that reminds one of Aert de Gelder's* portraiture, and, in its subtle mingling of distracted thought and vulnerability, anticipates some aspects of eighteenth-century portraiture. His portrait of his first English patron, John Banckes, done during the year of their meeting (Kitely End, England, J. R. Bastard, Esq.), clearly shows Kneller quickly adopting the confident and self-consciously relaxed manner of presenting his sitters that van Dyck* managed so well. Yet here, too, there is a directness, a lack of studied grace, that makes Kneller's Banckes portrait an original contribution in the field of portraiture. By 1677 Kneller was quickly finding his metier, as evidenced by his portrait of James Vemon (dated 1677, London, National Portrait Gallery) and his two charming ovals of Barbara Talbot and Gilberta Talbot (both London, National Trust, Lacock Abbey), wherein the facial constructions are summarily handled, giving a simple and direct presentation of his subject–yet within that distillation one finds carefully observed nuances of character, mood, and physiognomy beautifully elucidated. Here Kneller was able to maintain a sense of formality despite the relatively intimate format of the pictures. Undoubtedly that infusion of formal distance appealed to his subjects and was, to one extent or the other, the kind of approach he employed for many of his commissioned portraits. In 1678 the duke of Monmouth asked Charles to sit for Kneller's portrait, and the king agreed on the condition that Kneller would paint alongside Lely. Kneller impressed the king by dashing off a complete portrait in the time it took Lely to establish the general outlines of his subject, and so Kneller's success was assured. From 1676 to the early 1680s, Kneller experimented with various portrait styles then fashionable in England. Looking at van Dyck, Lely, and remembering his own experiences on the continent, Kneller gradually forged his own adaptations of French and English traditions, achieving vigorous, stately, elegant though austere, and still quite natural likenesses. In command of a full range of portrait types including full-length, equestrian, and half-length – to which he later added his own invention, the so-called Kit-Cat (see subsequent discussion) – Kneller proved himself the most versatile and wide-ranging portraitist since van Dyck. He was, therefore, in considerable demand for the pleasing likenesses he was able to produce. When Lely died in 1680, Kneller suceeded him as one of the chief portrait artists to the nobility. He was successful in part because he knew where to look and from whom to learn. His equestrian portrait of Mohammed Ohadu, the Moroccan Ambassador (dated 1684, Chiswick House) is a flamboyant quotation from Titian, while his portrait of Charles II (dated 1685, Liverpool, Walker Art Gallery) is a marvelous fusion of the artifice and pomp of kingly rank, and a striking confrontation with a genuinely human personality. Here the sources seem French but anticipate by several decades the gorgeous state portraits of Hyacinthe Rigaud. In 1684 Charles thought highly enough of Kneller to employ him for diplomatic purposes, sending him to France to paint Louis XIV. Between 1685 and 1688 (the reign of James II), Kneller met with some competition for his position as preferred painter. Willem Wissing (1656-87), John Michael Wright, and John Riley all gained accolades. Kneller's output was nonetheless prodigious and included several religious pictures among the far more numerous portraits. His finest accomplishments from these years are his full-length portraits, among which his portrait of Philip, Lord Wharton (dated 1685, Easton Neston) should be singled out for special mention. Despite the formality of the image – with the sitter enveloped in his official robes – the picture has a casual and spontaneous quality, a sense of directness and vivacity that ranks it among the finest portraits of its period, unrivaled until the time of Reynolds. And to that picture should also be added his portrait of Michael Atphonsus Shen Fu-Tsung, "The Chinese Convert" (dated 1687, London, Kensington Palace), which displays an exceptionally vivacious handling of paint. With the ascension of William and Mary (1688-1702), Kneller reached the pinnacle of his career. He was appointed principal painter, together with John Riley, to the king and queen. When Riley died in 1691, Kneller became sole principal painter. The year 1692 saw Kneller receiving a knighthood. In 1697 he was on another diplomatic mission, painting the elector of Bavaria, and in 1698 he painted a vivid full-length portrait of Peter the Great, who was then visiting England (London, Kensington Palace). In 1715 Kneller was made a baronet b> George I. In 1711 he was also elected governor of the first academy of painting in London. Kneller held a virtual monopoly over the royal likenesses and was kept busy producing them. Yet those are not the portraits that are most admired today. The kings who ruled after James II (1685-88) had little interest in painting, and the court itself, after 1688, was no longer the center of national life as it had been. The aristocracy, on the other hand, gained new power, and its promotion of portraiture was fueled by their increasing influence and wealth. Most tedious are the innumerable full-length likenesses of noble and society ladies, whose identities are too often fused with the remote, classicizing conventions Kneller adopted for them. When Mary II commissioned Kneller to paint Hampton Court Beauties in a series not unlike Lely's earlier Windsor Beauties, the results were more formal and far less charming than Lely's. Active in the intellectual and high-ranking social circles of his day, Kneller spent considerable time making liknesses of intellectuals and leading citizens. These portraits are among his finest accomplishments for two reasons. First, Kneller had a knack for choosing the right format in which to present his sitters; he even went so far as to invent a new format when the existing formulae did not suit his purposes. Second, he must have been completely at home in these circles, understanding the force of personality, intellect, and drive that underlay the accomplishments of his admired contemporaries. Kneller's numerous portraits of writers, scientists, and poets (see, for example, his Dryden of ca. 1698, his Matthew Prior of 1700, both Cambridge, Trinity College; and his Sir Isaac Newton of 1702, London, National Portrait Gallery) tend to follow the half-length format and are consistently brilliant in their distillation of personality onto the canvas. Kneller's portrait of the sculptor Grinling Gibbons (dated ca. 1690, St. Petersburg, Hermitage) anticipates Hogarth in its blunt confrontation between sitter and onlooker. Kneller's best-known efforts are the Uknesses he made of the more than forty members of the Kit-Cat Club (1697-ca. 1715, now in London, National Portrait Gallery) which consisted of the leading Whig peers, politicians, soldiers, financiers, writers, and scientists of the day, who met at social occasions arranged by the secretary, Jacob Tonson. Adapting a smaller size than previously in common use in England, and portraying only his subject's head, bust, and generally one hand, Kneller's Kit-Cat portraits are an unusually informal and intimate presentation of personality with a forthright bluntness that gives them a special place in the history of English portrait painting. Particularly notable is the portrait of the club's secretary, Jacob Tonson (dated 1717, London, National Portrait Gallery). Six years later Kneller was dead, his funeral expenses paid by the Kit-Cat Club. Some 6,000 portraits remain attributed to Kneller or his studio. Clearly that is an astonishing record, even when studio intervention is considered. Moreover, Kneller seems to have painted just about everybody who was anybody during his lifetime: Charles II, Peter the Great, lords and ladies of court, military and naval commanders, diplomats, politicians, writers, scientists, and artists. Scholars now divide his development into two broad periods. The first incorporates his activity from 1676 to about 1699, wherein his early, forthright Dutch realism is blended to the formalities and grace of van Dyck and becomes a more reserved and studied interpretation. After his trip with William ill to the Low Countries in 1697, his style responded more to what he must have seen of Rubens, adding a new creamy palette and verve, an almost rococo flavor to his touch. His equestrian portrait of William III (dated 1701, London, Hampton Court) is considered the finest example of this phase of his work. For many, however, it is too artificial to compete successfully with his Kit-Cats. Kneller's influence over the eighteenth century cannot be underestimated. Artists as diverse as Alan Ramsay and Joseph Wright of Derby borrowed his designs; Hogarth owned a set of Kit-Cat engravings; Gainsborough cast more than a casual glance at Kneller's brush work; and Reynolds was a staunch admirer who clearly learned something from his illustrious predecessor. |
