What it's like to sit for a portrait in 2025
A portrait has value beyond achieving a perceptive likeness. It is this romantic appeal that affords the over-the-fireplace position to an oil sketch of my great-great-grandfather. Painted in the 1880s, a time that saw a democratising wave ripple through the genre that was once the preserve of the rich and powerful, it acts as a compelling argument for rethinking family documentation (photographic records of other relations mostly live in boxes).
As those who keep up with developments in portraiture will know, there’s now an almost boundless variety of styles. There is detailed realism, and artists who have trained in the same French Academy method as John Singer Sargent, among them Phoebe Dickinson, and Isabella Watling and George Clark (one of the duos featured in this section). There’s classical use of descriptive props, and the incorporating of abstract ideas – the depiction by Maggi Hambling of Nobel Prize-winning chemist Dorothy Hodgkin grants her two pairs of active hands. The range is exciting, though challenging when it comes to selection. And, as not all artists are always open to commission, it could well become an administrative slog, with the risk of possibly missing the moment – an anniversary, birthday or personal achievement – it is perhaps marking.
Aiding the operation, the Royal Society of Portrait Painters has, since the late 19th century, been providing a window onto some of the best available artists of the day. Whether online or via an appointment at the Mall Galleries, SW1, which runs the Society’s commissioning service, diverse portfolios offer a spectrum of aesthetic, medium and price. It can be tempting to choose someone who comes with the cachet of having captured a prime minister or monarch, or who has painted a friend. But Martina Merelli, the fine art commissions manager, advises submitting all contenders to a form of due process.
The key is to identify portraits you find delight in, regardless of subject. Then come further considerations: desired setting, number of people and pets, budget and available hours. Because, while some artists will gladly paint a whole family arranged on a sofa, others prefer their own studio and might not accept very young children or dogs. An artist who works exclusively from life could require seven or more three-hour sittings for a head-and-shoulders in oil. On occasion, Martina suggests a meeting prior to final selection. You are, after all, surrendering to somebody else’s gaze and, potentially, days in their company.
Saied Dai’s double portrait at a piano, moonlit countryside visible through the window behind, would – free from limitations – have led me to request something similar. A ballgowned ideal by Frances Bell was also a tantalising prospect. But, with a desire for a truthful rendering as I appear in everyday life, my match was for a drawing with the Society’s president, Anthony Connolly, which still required five hours of sitting. ‘And it might not work the first time,’ he cautioned.
A portrait is a collaborative undertaking, and pose, hairstyle and clothing are likely to be discussed. References can be welcome – if they’re in keeping within your chosen artist’s oeuvre. Some artists, including Anthony, begin with working sketches. Research alerted me to make-up affecting skin tone and multitasking being out, as no one wants to be immortalised with a screen-focused squint. Isabella suggests a discreet earphone and an audiobook can assist with the subject staying still.
But, in the event, I never pressed play on Mrs Dalloway. Stories abound of the late Queen’s 20 sittings with Lucian Freud and their lively conversations about horses. Our topics were different, but silence fell only when complete fixedness was requested and I discovered meditative calm in
the crack of a white shutter. The minutes stole past uncounted and there was a break when I was allowed to look but not comment. Which isn’t to say, confirms Martina, that changes cannot be made, and Phoebe recounts a tweaking process that continues until everyone is happy.
I was, immediately – while not necessarily knowing myself in the portrait that, despite Anthony’s warning, did come off. It’s to be expected, for it is one artist’s impression and often the angle of pose is one you don’t encounter in a mirror. It makes the picture a discovery, adding another layer of interest to a drawing I love for the charm of Anthony’s style and the recognition of family resemblance to my great-great-grandfather. My appreciation, too, is standard: returns, I’m informed, are next to none.
Mall Galleries: mallgalleries.org.uk/art-consultancy/rp-portrait-commissions






