Lot Essay
Between 1907 and 1921 Orpen painted a series of self-portraits; James White (National Gallery of Ireland Exhibition Catalogue, p.7) comments on these works: 'It is unlikely that any other artist has ever left a record of his own appearance which is so complete and self-critical. To mention the subject is to evoke the name of Picasso with whom he has frequently been compared, different in style though they both were.
In his self-revelatory sketches and paintings, Picasso saw himself as the all-powerful element manipulating his muse, Venus. Orpen, on the other hand, saw himself as the Irish artist, prey to all the whims and humours of Venus whose mind and body was transformed by each of these encounters.
He was the plodding painter with the white handkerchief and spectacles on his head, à la Chardin. He was the jockey at the races. He was the man from Aran. He was Pan 'gallumping' on the plains of Meath. He was one of the unemployed at Larkin's elbow in Liberty Hall or ladling out soup to the hungry. He was every poor devil who was dropped in the mud of Flanders. Above all he was the Irish artist who hoped he would be admired in his own country and who, in a moment of mirth, planned himself placed on a sculptor's plinth in O'Connell Street, Dublin'.
The present work is a companion painting to 'Myself and Venus', in the collection of the Carnegie Institute, Pittsburg'.
In his self-revelatory sketches and paintings, Picasso saw himself as the all-powerful element manipulating his muse, Venus. Orpen, on the other hand, saw himself as the Irish artist, prey to all the whims and humours of Venus whose mind and body was transformed by each of these encounters.
He was the plodding painter with the white handkerchief and spectacles on his head, à la Chardin. He was the jockey at the races. He was the man from Aran. He was Pan 'gallumping' on the plains of Meath. He was one of the unemployed at Larkin's elbow in Liberty Hall or ladling out soup to the hungry. He was every poor devil who was dropped in the mud of Flanders. Above all he was the Irish artist who hoped he would be admired in his own country and who, in a moment of mirth, planned himself placed on a sculptor's plinth in O'Connell Street, Dublin'.
The present work is a companion painting to 'Myself and Venus', in the collection of the Carnegie Institute, Pittsburg'.