Self-portrait miniature 1769

Curator: What strikes you about this self-portrait miniature by John Singleton Copley from 1769? It's currently held at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Editor: The immediacy of it is remarkable. I mean, look at the delicacy of the watercolor on, I presume, ivory. The tiny, almost granular strokes forming the face. One thinks of the immense labor involved in this craft. Curator: Indeed, it's fascinating how portrait miniatures served as potent symbols of identity and social standing. These weren't just small portraits; they were keepsakes, imbued with personal and familial significance. Editor: Right. And consider the physical effort! Grinding pigments, preparing the ivory… Even the act of wearing this as jewelry—it's a mobile declaration of self, always within reach. What about the Rococo style influences its creation? Curator: Certainly. The soft pastel colors and delicate details exemplify Rococo aesthetics. This intimate form carries weight, symbolizing a person's entire essence and lineage. Notice his fashionable attire, for example, announcing a particular level of worldliness. It's more than mere representation. Editor: It speaks of careful curation of image, right? Control. But what I keep returning to is the actual materiality, the cost of those pigments. Blue, for example. Copley understood the power held by these very costly items of visual display. It suggests a kind of access and means to control that accessibility to some, while obscuring it from others. Curator: Absolutely, these weren't mass-produced items. It served a specific social function for a select clientele. Now, looking at it, knowing all this—what resonates most? Editor: For me, it's still the labor, the slow and precise application of color that speaks to me about Copley's time, its values, and anxieties. Curator: For me, it's about the encoded layers, the concentrated meanings packed into such a diminutive form. Editor: A pocket-sized manifesto!