Gwen John

Gwen John is one of my favourite painters of all time. Her portraits – often repeating the same poses with the same models over and over again – have a chalky quality, with little detail, that put the sitter at a distance from the viewer, isolating them in their little world within the painting. The subjects are nearly always the same – a single young woman, often reading or holding something else (flowers, a cat) in their lap, sat alone. No wonder they are often picked for book jackets for writers like Virginia Woolf, representing a single, bookish woman, settled in her own world. “A Room of One’s Own” indeed.

John’s self-portraits were often imbued with the same distraction, the same calm. One, though, is filled with fire, a confident, hands-on-hip, confrontation. Eyes to camera, a turn in the shoulder, and impatience in the hips. Chin up, lips pursed. It’s a wonderful fiery red painting. Gwen spent her life in the shadow of her egocentric brother Augustus, modelled for her lover Rodin, who treated her badly, and as she got older painted nuns, flowers and cats in her little house outside Paris. But in this picture she’s a force to be reckoned with, her hand raised towards the canvas as she returns her own gaze with a confidence and power as good as anything her brother did.

Love Gwen John!!

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