A Portrait: Lord Pomfret Possibly 1812

Curator: This etching and aquatint from roughly 1812, by Thomas Rowlandson, cheekily titled, "A Portrait: Lord Pomfret," feels… playful. Editor: Yes, "playful" in that savagely observant, almost cruel way Rowlandson could achieve. It’s a masterful exercise in capturing a very particular type, the sort of powdered, puffed-up lord one might encounter waddling around London in that period. Note the curve of the belly pushing against the coat. The line here isn't just descriptive; it's practically satirical. Curator: I get that, the caricature is undeniable, but for me it also lands with affection. Look at the rendering of his face; the details in the mouth and nose have a sort of... sweetness that softens the lampoon. What are you reading into that background sketch? Editor: The background’s minimal: some scratchy, indistinct bushes or trees. I wouldn't want to read too much into it other than perhaps locating the subject outside, a gentleman enjoying a promenade. Though, what I really respond to is how the bright white of Pomfret's wig is positioned in almost a figure/ground reversal with the open space above the landscape, that echo heightens the almost sculptural presence of the work. Curator: It's interesting you mention sculpture, because the way the light catches those exaggerated curves truly brings him to life, a life I imagine being full of delightful gossip and scandal! Editor: Precisely. Rowlandson’s genius is in how he builds layer upon layer of meaning through line, shape, and the subtle application of color washes, the blue almost bruises that evoke, that almost corpulent shadow… there is so much to find. Curator: This work gives us license to reflect on identity and the humor found when truth peeks through appearances. Editor: Agreed. "A Portrait: Lord Pomfret" remains a study in artistic precision with that underlying question for us, regarding what hides behind society’s artifice.