Last week, the National Portrait Gallery unveiled its latest high profile
acquisition – a portrait of a relatively young Winston Churchill, painted in
1916 – to great fanfare.
The excitement
surrounding this event is understandable considering this is only the second
time in its almost 100-year history that the painting has gone on public
display - apart from a brief outing seven years ago when it was featured in an exhibition
at the Imperial War Museum, it has languished virtually unseen in the home of
Churchill’s grandson.
However, following the death of said grandson (also called Winston) in 2010,
the NPG has been in talks with the Churchill estate to acquire the piece on
long-term loan – and the fruits of these labours are now available for all to
see, hanging in the gallery’s 20
th Century room.
This painting is significant for a variety of reasons. Firstly, it was
painted by the celebrated World War One portraitist, William Orpen and is
undeniably a very accomplished work – in fact, it is believed by many to be the
finest portrait of the statesman in existence.
But perhaps the most noteworthy aspect of this piece is its rather
unique historical provenance.
Churchill began sitting for Orpen in the immediate aftermath of the
disastrous Gallipoli campaign – a failed operation to capture Constantinople (the
capital of the Ottoman Empire), which had been masterminded by Churchill in his
capacity as First Lord of the Admiralty, and which had cost the lives of some
46,000 Allied troops (mostly ANZAC – Australian and New Zealand Army Corps –
forces).
The fall from grace had been spectacular – as a consequence of his fatal
miscalculations (which were based, to some extent, on incorrect intelligence) Churchill
was forced to resign from his beloved politics in the face of accusations of
irresponsible leadership.
He was also facing ian inquiry by the
Dardanelle’s Commission, which was set up to investigate the reasons for the Gallipoli
campaign’s catastrophic failure (an inquiry, incidentally, which ultimately concluded
that Churchill was not, in fact, personally responsible).
All of the turmoil of this period is reflected in the painting itself.
There is no sign of the brash self-confidence
typical of Churchill in his later years.
We see instead a man weighed down by disappointment and doubt.
His eyes appear tormented by … what? Guilt? Regret?
Self-reproach? Perhaps a combination of all three.
He could not have known then that he would be
exonerated by the Commission (technically, if not morally).
Neither could he have known that his
political career was far from over, that history would grant him a chance to rehabilitate
his reputation.
And, above all, he could
not have known that he would one day be regarded as Great Britain’s finest ever
statesman.
But even when these events did come to pass, it seems Churchill never forgot
the lessons learned in 1915/16.
Of all
the portraits ever painted of him, Orpen’s is the one he valued most.
He kept it all his life.
"It is not the picture of a man,” he said.” It is the
picture of a man's soul."
About the
artist: Major Sir William Orpen was an Irish artist and an official World War
One painter. He captured many disturbing
images on the Western Front, including paintings of dead soldiers and German
prisoners of war. In 1918, he was made a
Knight of the British Empire (KBE), and the following year was elected to the
Royal Academy of Arts as a Royal Academician.
Orpen died in 1931 in London, aged 53 years. He is buried at Putney Vale Cemetery.