|
||||||
|
||||||
|
||||||
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
||
| FEATURES | BY GERALD ISAAMAN |
 HRH the Duchess of York, later to become the Queen Mother, 1925  Miss Amy Ahlers, 1933  Miss Buchanan |
Philip Alexius de Laszlo, as his romantic Hungarian name implies, became the darling of aristocratic society, the painter to whom even royalty paid a fortune so they could sit for an admired portrait at his studio in Hampstead. But he died dramatically in 1937, aged 68. His name and reputation, the elite, carefree life of the rich and famous that still existed amid the miseries of the 1930s, virtually disappeared when world war followed. But then last week, at the Mayfair headquarters of Christie’s, the auctioneers, their galleries were filled with 90 enticing works from de Laszlo’s great reign, in the first retrospective exhibition of his work since his death, an event opened by the Princess Royal. It is a show of delight, poignantly entitled A Brush With Grandeur, and one that includes memorabilia from his days at no 3 Fitzjohn’s Avenue, Hampstead, from 1921 until his death. It includes his palette and paintbox, royal signatures in his “sitters’ books” and a photograph of Princess Marina leaving his studio, now tucked behind the neighbouring church of St Thomas More in Maresfield Gardens. And on display is a black and white silent film of de Laszlo painting the portrait of a fashion model, a film shot on a 16mm motion picture camera, one of the first of its kind, which was given to him by George Eastman, whose portrait he painted in 1916. The exhibition is part of an array of cultural events celebrating the Hungarian government’s forthcoming entry into the European Union. “It all came as a great surprise,” elegant Sandra de Laszlo, one of the curators, who is married to the artist’s grandson, Damon, said. She has been working for 15 years preparing a definitive catalogue of more than 3,000 de Laszlo paintings. “The idea popped up as a kind of miracle and I didn’t think we had the time to put it together. But you make time to do something you want to do,” she said. “And it is breathtaking to see all these pictures come together from around the world. It does bring him back into magnificent view. “With World War II and the austerity that followed there wasn’t room any more for an artist like de Laszlo. He just went out of fashion and was forgotten. We hope his reputation will now be restored.” Even before World War I de Laszlo could command an extraordinary £1,000 for a full-length portrait. “That’s equivalent to £100,000 today,” said Sandra. “Later on, he occasionally asked £3,000 when he didn’t want to paint a particular person’s portrait. And once or twice he got it.” That was a remarkable transformation for the humble tailor’s son from Budapest who fell for Lucy Guinness, a member of the banking family, while studying in Munich. He borrowed money to follow her to Paris but their desire to marry was thwarted, Lucy’s father finding a struggling artist highly unsuitable. But their love remained steadfast – and they married seven years later, living first in Budapest but returning to England for the education of their children. Here in London, he put in an exhibition to display his talents. Edward VII and Queen Alexandra went to see it. That same day he received a command to visit Buckingham Palace, to paint Princess Victoria. It was the start of a sparkling career. The exhibition alone shows us the late Queen Mother, draped in blue as the Duchess of York, the Queen as Princess of York, aged just seven, de Laszlo describing her as “intelligent and full of character”, despite being “very sleepy and restless”. Less formal is his portrait of luminous Doreen Buchanan, who was so shocked she erased her nipple from the portrait, Vita Sackville-West, insecure at 18, and his seductive portrait of the German singer and actress Anny Ahlers. It went unfinished because she fell to her death from the balcony of her flat during a bout of depression in 1933. Photographs of Anny posing for it in his Hampstead studio are still pinned to the back of the portrait. There was tragedy too in de Laszlo’s own life. In 1917, he foolishly gave £1 to a begging Hungarian refugee and ended up being denounced at a time when paranoia against foreigners was at its height. He was interned. His fate was demoralising but de Laszlo was a man of determination and he fought off his own depression to regain his status as Britain’s leading portrait painter. The move to Hampstead followed. “I believe he was only the second resident of newly-built houses there,” said Sandra. “He had 16 happy years there.” Hurry if you want to see the exhibition, at Christie’s, 8 King Street, SW1. It closes on January 22. |
|