It is commonly assumed that a good portrait captures the sitter’s likeness faithfully and the individual represented would be easily identified. Recognizing a likeness seems to be an instinct that requires no intellect or education. What does it mea...
It is commonly assumed that a good portrait captures the sitter’s likeness faithfully and the individual represented would be easily identified. Recognizing a likeness seems to be an instinct that requires no intellect or education. What does it mean, then, when one fails to recognize the identity of the same individual painted in many different portraits by one or more painters? Does it simply indicate different artists have different styles? Does it have to do with the sitter’s different makeup or dress? Does it show the painters’ different levels of technical skill in capturing the sitter’s likeness? Or does it point to the beholder’s lack of ability to notice the resemblances? What complicates the matter even more is the fact that there is no ‘original’ to be compared with faces on canvas when it comes to historical portraits for which the sitters have been long deceased. How do we, then, make sense of the issue of likeness in historical portraiture? This paper addresses this question of pictorial likeness in the case of Emma Hamilton, an internationally noted English beauty at the end of the eighteenth century, who mesmerized countless contemporary men from all walks of life. Since nobody living today has ever seen her, no one can confirm that her extant portraits capture her likeness. What do her portraits resemble, then? What are they portrayal of? This paper explores the cultural politics and dynamics of Emma’s portraits, focusing on those executed by George Romney, and argues, following Marcia Pointon’s contention, that they are in essence ‘factish,’ combining facts and fetishes.