Graham Sutherland
Graham Vivian Sutherland OM (24 August 1903 – 17 February 1980) was an English painter and printmaker noted for his surrealistic depictions of rugged landscapes, his role as an official war artist documenting the industrial and destructive impacts of the Second World War, and his unflattering portraits of public figures.[1][2] Trained initially in etching at Goldsmiths College in London after abandoning an engineering apprenticeship, Sutherland shifted to oil painting in the early 1930s following the decline of the print market.[1] From the mid-1930s, he drew inspiration from the dramatic cliffs and forms of the Pembrokeshire coast in Wales, producing works characterized by organic, thorny motifs influenced by Surrealism.[1][2] As a war artist from 1941 to 1945, he created vivid gouaches of bomb craters, ruined cityscapes, and blazing factories, emphasizing the raw, elemental forces of destruction and machinery.[1] In the post-war period, Sutherland executed significant commissions such as the large-scale Christ in Glory in the Tetramorph tapestry for the rebuilt Coventry Cathedral, unveiled in 1962, blending modernist abstraction with religious symbolism.[2] His 1954 portrait of Winston Churchill, a parliamentary gift for the statesman's eightieth birthday, portrayed a defiant yet weary figure in a style that Churchill privately derided as "malignant," resulting in its destruction by his family shortly after unveiling.[3]Early Life and Education
Childhood and Family Background
Graham Vivian Sutherland was born on 24 August 1903 in Streatham, London, the eldest of three children born to George Humphrey Vivian Sutherland, a barrister who later served as a civil servant in the Land Registry and the Board of Education, and Elsie Sutherland (née Foster, 1877–1957). Both parents pursued amateur interests in painting and music, fostering an environment with artistic exposure during Sutherland's youth.[4][5][6] The family initially resided in Streatham, where Sutherland spent his early formative years—approximately ages four to eight—at 8 Dorset Road. Around 1910, they relocated to Sutton in Surrey. His younger brother, (Carol) Humphrey Vivian Sutherland (1908–1986), pursued a career as a distinguished numismatist.[7][5][6]Formal Training and Initial Influences
Sutherland began his professional life as an apprentice railway engineer in Derby, a path he abandoned in favor of artistic pursuits.[8] He enrolled at Goldsmiths' College of Art in London, where he studied engraving and etching from 1921 to 1926 under the guidance of instructors including Frederick Marriott, the head of the art school.[1][9] This training equipped him with technical skills in printmaking, which became the foundation of his early career, producing commercial etchings of architectural subjects and landscapes.[10] His initial artistic influences drew heavily from the Romantic tradition, particularly the visionary works of William Blake and the pastoral visions of Samuel Palmer, whose etched landscapes emphasized intricate detail and emotional intensity.[11][12] Sutherland's early etchings reflected this neo-romantic sensibility, blending meticulous line work with a poetic interpretation of nature, often evoking the Shoreham landscapes associated with Palmer's circle.[13] Additional early inspirations included the tonal subtlety of James Abbott McNeill Whistler, whose etchings of urban and Thames scenes informed Sutherland's approach to composition and atmosphere in his initial prints.[12] These influences marked a departure from the prevailing modernist abstraction of the interwar period, rooting his formative style in British romanticism rather than continental avant-garde movements.[14]Early Career
Etchings and Commercial Prints
Sutherland began his artistic training in etching and engraving at Goldsmiths' College of Art in London, where he studied under Frederick Griggs after abandoning an engineering apprenticeship in 1921.[15] His early etchings, produced primarily in the 1920s, focused on romantic pastoral landscapes inspired by Samuel Palmer and the neo-romantic tradition, featuring idyllic rural scenes such as wooded lanes and rolling hills.[16] These works demonstrated a meticulous technique, with fine lines capturing atmospheric depth and a sense of calm, as seen in pieces like Entrance to a Lane (c. 1924) and Number Forty-Nine (1924), which employed dense engraving for textured skies and foliage.[17] By 1923, Sutherland had exhibited his first etchings professionally, achieving early recognition for their pastoral quality and technical precision, which aligned with the Goldsmiths' emphasis on etching as a fine art medium.[18] Printmaking dominated his output during this decade, with over 50 etchings documented in catalogues, including a 1928 publication by the Twenty One Gallery listing works with dates and reproductions.[19] Notable examples include Pastoral (1930), blending serene countryside motifs with subtle tonal variations achieved through aquatint and drypoint techniques.[20] Commercially, Sutherland supplemented his income through print sales, book illustrations, and graphic design commissions, while teaching etching, engraving, and book illustration at the Chelsea School of Art from 1928 to 1932.[21][22] This period marked his reliance on reproducible prints for market viability, with editions produced for galleries like the Twenty One, though the 1929 stock market crash curtailed demand for such specialized works.[22] Despite economic pressures, his etchings maintained a focus on English rural idylls, such as Western Hills and Pecken Wood, which evoked a nostalgic, pre-industrial harmony through intricate line work and subtle shading.[23][15] By the early 1930s, Sutherland began transitioning from pure etching toward watercolors, but his foundational printmaking established a reputation for precision and atmospheric evocation in the neo-romantic vein.[24]Shift to Painting and Neo-Romanticism
In the wake of the 1929 Wall Street Crash, which severely diminished demand for fine etchings in British and American markets, Sutherland curtailed his printmaking activities by around 1930 and began exploring oil painting alongside commercial design and teaching.[25] This economic pressure prompted a pivot from reproductive techniques to original painted works, initially experimental in nature.[10] By 1935, Sutherland had committed primarily to painting, participating in the International Surrealist Exhibition in London the following year, where his emerging style showed affinities with surreal abstraction while rooting in British Romantic precedents.[10] His canvases evolved toward the Neo-Romantic idiom prevalent among British artists in the late 1930s and early 1940s, emphasizing visionary, semi-abstract landscapes that evoked unease amid industrialization and impending war.[26] Influenced by Samuel Palmer's pastoral intensity and William Blake's mystical forms, Sutherland depicted distorted natural motifs—such as thorny branches, craggy rocks, and labyrinthine foliage—often sourced from Welsh coastal scenes, transforming observation into symbolic, organic menace.[26] Works like Entrance to a Lane (c. 1939) exemplify this phase, with twisting vegetation bordering enclosed spaces, blending topographical accuracy with psychological tension derived from direct en plein air studies.[18] These paintings rejected geometric modernism for a revived Romanticism, prioritizing emotive distortion over literal representation to convey nature's latent violence.[27]World War II Contributions
Role as Official War Artist
In June 1940, Graham Sutherland was invited by the War Artists' Advisory Committee (WAAC) to discuss a potential commission, leading to his appointment as an official war artist later that year.[28] This role, supported by influential patron Sir Kenneth Clark, provided Sutherland with a full-time salaried position to document the British home front during World War II.[7][29] From 1940 to 1945, he produced works capturing the impacts of aerial bombardment and industrial war efforts, emphasizing the raw, often surreal devastation and resilience observed in urban and manufacturing sites.[24][1] Sutherland's commission aligned with the WAAC's objective to create an artistic record of the war's effects on civilian life and infrastructure, distinct from frontline combat depictions.[30] His neo-romantic style, influenced by pre-war landscapes, evolved to convey the eerie, thorn-like forms emerging from rubble and machinery, reflecting a personal interpretation of destruction rather than mere reportage.[8] This position elevated Sutherland's prominence, transitioning him from etching and romanticism to a more visceral engagement with contemporary trauma.[31]Depictions of Bomb Damage and Industry
![Devastation, 1941, An East End Street by Graham Sutherland (Tate N05736)][float-right] Graham Sutherland, appointed an official war artist by the War Artists' Advisory Committee in 1941, produced a series of works documenting bomb damage from the London Blitz, emphasizing the surreal and grotesque remnants of destruction in urban areas.[32] His depictions captured the eerie desolation of bombed sites, such as in The City: A Fallen Lift Shaft (1941), where a collapsed structure evoked the form of a "wounded tiger" amid the ruins north of St. Paul's Cathedral.[32] In the East End, particularly the Silvertown area near the docks, Sutherland rendered scenes like Devastation, 1941: An East End Street, using gouache, crayon, and ink to convey twisted wreckage and exposed interiors that suggested organic, thorn-like forms emerging from inorganic ruin.[33] Further examples include Devastation, 1941: East End, Burnt Paper Warehouse and Devastation, 1941: East End, Wrecked Public House, both executed with layered media on paper, highlighting charred timbers and skeletal buildings that transformed devastation into semi-abstract compositions blending realism with neo-romantic distortion.[34] Sutherland also recorded bomb damage in South Wales and on the Welsh border, as in Devastation, 1940: A House on the Welsh Border, where explosive force was abstracted to physically evoke intrusion into domestic space.[35] Transitioning to industrial themes, Sutherland depicted wartime production in heavy industry, visiting sites in South Wales for iron and steel manufacturing, where he portrayed processes like slag handling in Slag-Ladles (c. 1943), a mixed-media work showing vats of molten waste transported by rail, rendered with dynamic lines and stark contrasts to emphasize mechanical menace.[36] In Cornwall, from 1942, he documented tin mining at Geevor, producing studies such as Study, Tin Mine: View Down a Stope (June 1942), capturing underground voids and emerging miners with pencil, ink, and watercolor to highlight the da Vinci-like figures of workers amid claustrophobic, jagged shafts.[37] Additional subjects included opencast coal production, integrating human labor with the thorny, insect-like machinery of the home front effort.[28] These industrial scenes, like the bomb damage works, employed surreal abstraction to underscore the war's transformative violence on both landscape and production.[38]Post-War Artistic Evolution
Landscapes of Pembrokeshire and Thorns Series
Following World War II, Graham Sutherland revisited the Pembrokeshire region of Wales, a landscape he had first encountered in 1934 and which profoundly shaped his artistic development through its twisted rock formations, gorse bushes, and dramatic cliffs. These post-war paintings evolved from his earlier neo-romantic etchings into surreal, semi-abstract oils characterized by distorted organic forms, intense colors, and a fusion of beauty and menace, often centering on thorny vegetation observed in the coastal terrain.[30][8] The Thorns series, produced primarily in the late 1940s, represented a pivotal extension of these Pembrokeshire inspirations, transforming gnarled thorn bushes into anthropomorphic, totemic structures that evoked barriers, fossils, and religious symbolism. This motif gained prominence after Sutherland's 1946 commission for a Crucifixion altarpiece at St Matthew's Church, Northampton, which prompted an intensive exploration of spiky, crown-of-thorns-like forms amid the rugged Welsh environment.[8][39] Specific works, such as Thorn Head (1949), depict thorns encircling a head-like form in a manner suggestive of a scold's bridle or sacrificial crown, blending naturalistic observation with abstracted menace derived from the "exultant strangeness" of Pembrokeshire's flora and geology.[39][30] Sutherland's technique in this series emphasized jagged contours, vibrant yet ominous palettes—often featuring acid yellows, pinks, and deep greens—and a surreal distortion of scale, where thorns assumed human-like aggression or protective enclosure, reflecting the artist's post-war confrontation with destruction through nature's resilient, prickly persistence.[8] These paintings, numbering in the dozens and exhibited widely in the UK during the 1950s, underscored his transition toward greater abstraction while maintaining ties to observed Welsh motifs, influencing contemporaries in the neo-romantic revival.[8] By the early 1950s, the series waned as Sutherland shifted to portraits and religious commissions, though Pembrokeshire's thorny essence persisted in later iterations, such as palm frond studies from 1947 onward.[30]Religious Works and Coventry Cathedral Tapestry
Following World War II, Sutherland increasingly explored religious themes, drawing on his experiences of destruction and human suffering to infuse his works with stark, symbolic intensity. His 1946 Crucifixion, commissioned for St Matthew's Church in Northampton by Rev. Walter Hussey, portrays Christ on the cross amid jagged thorns, a motif echoing the artist's wartime depictions of bomb craters and industrial machinery, while also reflecting influences from photographs of Nazi concentration camp victims.[40][41] The painting's angular forms and somber palette emphasize themes of agony and redemption, marking Sutherland's shift toward figurative religious art rooted in neo-romanticism.[42] Sutherland produced other religious pieces, including Christ Appearing to Mary Magdalen (Noli Me Tangere), commissioned for Chichester Cathedral, which captures a moment of divine encounter with ethereal, elongated figures.[43] These works reveal Sutherland's fascination with Catholic iconography—despite his Anglican background—employing surreal distortions to convey spiritual mystery and the unknown.[44] Sutherland's most ambitious religious project was the monumental tapestry Christ in Glory in the Tetramorph for the rebuilt Coventry Cathedral, commissioned in 1951 by Provost Richard Howard and architect Basil Spence. Measuring 23 meters high by 12 meters wide, it depicts the risen Christ enthroned amid symbols of the four evangelists—man, lion, ox, and eagle—against a verdant background evoking creation's vitality.[45] Designed over a decade with numerous studies, the tapestry was hand-woven in a single piece by twelve artisans at the Aubusson workshops in France using wool and cotton yarns.[46] Unveiled upon the cathedral's consecration on May 25, 1962, it dominates the east wall behind the altar, symbolizing resurrection amid post-war reconstruction.[45] The work's bold colors and abstract elements sparked debate over its modernity in a sacred space, yet it endures as a landmark of 20th-century religious art.Portrait Commissions
1950s Portrait Series
In the early 1950s, Graham Sutherland expanded his portrait commissions, building on his 1949 depiction of author W. Somerset Maugham, which featured distorted, thorn-like forms and stark lighting to reveal the subject's aged vulnerability rather than idealized traits.[47] This approach carried into the decade's works, where Sutherland integrated elements from his earlier thorn and landscape series—elongated limbs, organic textures, and psychological intensity—to probe sitters' inner states, often at the expense of flattery.[24] The resulting images diverged sharply from academic portrait traditions, prioritizing expressive abstraction over literal resemblance. A key 1950s commission was the 1952 oil-on-canvas portrait of William Maxwell Aitken, 1st Baron Beaverbrook, measuring 18 1/8 by 15 inches and now held by the National Portrait Gallery.[48] In this piece, Sutherland rendered the Canadian-born British press magnate and politician with a piercing gaze, furrowed features, and simplified, almost surreal contours that emphasized character flaws and vitality. Beaverbrook, known for his influential role in media and wartime politics, accepted the portrayal, which aligned with Sutherland's method of multiple sittings and charcoal studies to capture transient expressions.[48] These portraits drew mixed reception, with some critics praising their modernist candor and others decrying the "grotesque" distortions as unheroic.[24] Sutherland defended his technique as truthful observation, derived from direct study rather than preconceived heroism, reflecting his post-war evolution toward revealing human frailty amid abstraction.[3] By mid-decade, this series established Sutherland as a provocative portraitist, influencing subsequent high-profile assignments while highlighting tensions between artistic innovation and public expectations of dignity.The Winston Churchill Portrait and Its Destruction
In 1954, members of both Houses of Parliament commissioned Graham Sutherland to paint a portrait of Winston Churchill in honor of his 80th birthday on November 30, marking Sutherland as the first artist selected for such a tribute since the 19th century.[3][49] The commission, funded by parliamentary subscription and valued at 1,000 guineas, tasked Sutherland with capturing Churchill's likeness for display in the Houses of Parliament, reflecting Sutherland's rising prominence in post-war British art.[49] Sutherland began sittings in August 1954 at Churchill's Chartwell estate, conducting around 12 sessions over several months, during which he produced detailed charcoal studies emphasizing Churchill's physical frailty, furrowed features, and contemplative demeanor to convey an unflinching truth rather than idealized heroism.[3][50] The full-length oil portrait, completed in subdued tones with Churchill seated against a stark landscape backdrop symbolizing endurance, was unveiled publicly on November 30, 1954, in Westminster Hall amid a ceremony attended by Parliament members.[3] Churchill, who had viewed a preliminary photograph a week prior and reportedly recoiled at its depiction of him as "a miserable old man" or akin to a "sheep," attended reluctantly but delivered a witty public response, quipping that the painting showed him "in the nude" to mask his private contempt.[3][50] Sutherland defended his approach as an honest rendering of Churchill's character and vitality amid age's toll, drawing from his neo-romantic style of stylized distortion to reveal inner essence, yet critics and Churchill allies viewed it as unflattering and insufficiently heroic, clashing with expectations of monumental portraiture for a wartime leader.[3] Following the presentation, the portrait was gifted to Churchill for private keeping at Chartwell, as per parliamentary custom, rather than immediate display.[51] Churchill's disdain persisted, with biographers noting his irrational fixation on its perceived malice, leading him to exclude it from view and reportedly store it in an attic.[52] In 1978, it emerged that Clementine Churchill, acting independently before Winston's death on January 24, 1965, authorized its destruction—breaking the canvas into pieces and incinerating them in the Chartwell garden—to shield her husband from further distress, despite the work belonging to Parliament and Sutherland receiving no consultation.[53][51] Sutherland decried the act as "vandalism," lamenting the loss of a significant piece amid his oeuvre, while defenders of the Churchills asserted their prerogative over a personally offensive gift, though the episode underscored tensions between artistic candor and public iconography.[54] Surviving studies, such as a 1954-1955 head sketch auctioned in 2024 for over £400,000, preserve elements of Sutherland's vision, highlighting Churchill's stern gaze and textured skin without the full composition's controversy.[55]Later Years
Relocation to France
In 1955, Graham Sutherland acquired Villa Tempe à Pailla, a modernist residence designed by architect Eileen Gray in 1934, situated on a hillside in Menton, France, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea near the Italian border.[56][57] The purchase followed Sutherland's initial visit to the South of France in 1947, during which the region's intense light, vivid colors, and exotic vegetation—such as palms and thorny succulents—began reshaping his artistic motifs away from the darker, more angular forms of his earlier British landscapes.[58] He and his wife, Kathleen, divided their time between the villa and England, using the property as a primary studio where Sutherland extended the structure to accommodate his workspace.[30] The relocation was motivated by the inspirational qualities of the Provençal environment, evoking associations with artists like Cézanne and Van Gogh, whose works emphasized the interplay of light and form in southern landscapes.[30] Sutherland's frequent pre-purchase stays in nearby locales, including Villefranche and Roquebrune, had already introduced brighter palettes and organic, creature-like studies of local flora into his oeuvre, as seen in pieces like Large Vine Pergola (1948).[58] By the 1960s, tax considerations reinforced his commitment to France, where he established residency as a tax exile, though he maintained occasional returns to Pembrokeshire for drawing expeditions as late as 1967.[58] Sutherland resided at the villa for much of each year until his death there on 18 February 1980, producing works that integrated the menacing yet seductive elements of Mediterranean vegetation—spiky gourds and insectile thorns—into his semi-abstract style.[30] The move distanced him from the intensifying scrutiny of British critics following controversies like the rejected Churchill portrait of 1954, allowing sustained focus on personal exploration amid the Riviera's climate and biodiversity.[42]Final Works and Personal Decline
In the 1960s, Sutherland established his primary residence in Menton, southern France, following earlier visits from 1947 and the purchase of La Villa Blanche in 1955; he designed a new home there with architect Tom Wilson in 1969, partly motivated by tax considerations. This relocation sustained his exploration of organic forms, including palm motifs and insect studies drawn from the Mediterranean environment, while his oeuvre increasingly incorporated Catholic symbolism in large-scale canvases with intricate iconography.[58][59] The 1970s saw Sutherland revisit Pembrokeshire after an absence exceeding twenty years, yielding late paintings that reengaged with rugged Welsh landscapes but received limited attention amid his continental isolation. His final commission, a portrait for the Royal Society, remained unfinished at his death, survived only by two preparatory watercolour sketches.[60][61] Sutherland's extended exile abroad diminished his prominence in Britain, where critics observed a perceived softening of his earlier thorny intensity into more ornate compositions. He made a last trip to Pembrokeshire one month before dying on 17 February 1980 in London at age 76 from natural causes.[59][12][62]Artistic Style and Techniques
Evolution from Representation to Abstraction
Sutherland began his artistic career with meticulous etchings of rural English and Welsh landscapes in the 1920s, employing a precise representational style influenced by Romantic engravers such as Samuel Palmer.[63] These early prints, produced while he studied at Goldsmiths' College from 1921 to 1925 and later taught at Chelsea School of Art from 1926 to 1940, captured natural scenes with detailed line work and fidelity to observed forms, emphasizing tranquility and pastoral motifs.[63] In the mid-1930s, Sutherland shifted toward painting and began distorting representational elements, marking the onset of his move to abstraction through surrealist influences.[63] By 1935, he abstracted organic forms like thorns, branches, rocks, and roots from Pembrokeshire landscapes into twisted, anthropomorphic shapes using bold colors and exaggerated contours to evoke unease rather than literal depiction.[64] This evolution drew from Pablo Picasso's cubist deconstructions, encountered during visits to Paris, leading to semi-abstract compositions of uninhabited terrains exhibited at the 1936 International Surrealist Exhibition in London.[63][65] World War II commissions as an official war artist accelerated this transition, with depictions of bomb craters, machinery, and urban devastation—such as Devastation, 1940: A House on the Welsh Border—employing fragmented forms and dramatic lighting that blurred boundaries between figuration and abstraction.[8] Post-war, in the 1940s and 1950s, Sutherland's landscapes evolved into complex, non-objective compositions, as seen in the Thorns series, where natural motifs dissolved into spiky, fossil-like abstractions prioritizing emotional intensity over recognizable structure.[8][63]Key Influences: Picasso, Surrealism, and Catholicism
Sutherland developed a profound admiration for Pablo Picasso, whom he regarded as the greatest living artist, particularly after encountering Guernica (1937) during its London exhibition in 1938, which inspired him to infuse greater vitality into his landscapes through emotional metamorphosis of forms.[66] This influence emphasized philosophical reinvention over technical imitation, as Sutherland applied Picasso's approach to abstract and distort natural motifs in works like Thorn Head (1946).[66] Their personal connection began with a first meeting on 20 November 1947 in Vallauris, France, where Sutherland, accompanied by Tom Driberg, observed Picasso creating ceramics; subsequent regular visits, including after Sutherland acquired a villa in Menton in 1955, reinforced this impact on his expressive use of form.[66] Sutherland's engagement with Surrealism emerged prominently in the 1930s, manifesting in biomorphic abstractions that highlighted the inherent strangeness of organic forms, especially in his Pembrokeshire landscapes following his initial visit to the region in 1934.[67] This stylistic affinity led to his participation in the International Surrealist Exhibition in London in 1936, where his works aligned with the movement's emphasis on subconscious revelation and visual metaphor, blending representational elements with dream-like distortion.[67] Such influences complemented Picasso's cubist innovations, enabling Sutherland to evolve from etching toward semi-abstract oil paintings that evoked an otherworldly quality in natural subjects.[66] Sutherland's conversion to Catholicism in 1926 provided a foundational metaphysical structure to his art, fostering a holistic view of creation that integrated empirical observation with spiritual mystery and directed his modernism toward objective theological truths, as articulated in Jacques Maritain's Art and Scholasticism.[68] This faith intensified from 1950 onward, profoundly shaping religious themes of Incarnation, suffering, and redemption, evident in early works like Crucifixion (1946) for St. Matthew's Church, Northampton, which employed distorted forms to convey the horror of Christ's passion, drawing parallels to Grünewald's Isenheim Altarpiece and Holocaust imagery.[68][42] Motifs such as thorns, symbolizing Calvary's agony, recurred across his oeuvre, linking natural abstraction to Catholic iconography and countering secular modernist abstraction with redemptive realism.[68]Reception and Criticisms
Contemporary Praise and Modernist Advocacy
Sutherland's appointment as an official war artist in 1940 by Kenneth Clark, chairman of the War Artists Advisory Committee, marked a pivotal endorsement of his modernist approach, securing him financial stability with a £500 commission amid personal hardships and amplifying his visibility through exhibitions at the National Gallery.[69] Clark, a leading advocate for contemporary British art, viewed Sutherland's thorny, semi-abstract landscapes and Blitz depictions as vital contributions to modernism, fostering their integration into public collections and discourse despite wartime constraints.[70] This patronage positioned Sutherland alongside figures like Henry Moore and John Piper, whom Clark similarly championed to bridge romantic traditions with European influences such as Picasso and surrealism.[71] Critics lauded Sutherland's "Devastation" series (1940–1941), with Edward Sackville-West praising their "terrible accuracy and ruthless virtuosity" in a 1943 review, attributing the works' impact to Sutherland's engineering background and ability to distill industrial ruin into expressive, non-literal forms that captured the era's psychological toll.[69] Exhibitions of these pieces at the Leicester Galleries in May 1940 and subsequent wartime displays elicited positive press, bolstering morale while critics highlighted their departure from photographic realism toward a modernist synthesis of organic distortion and urban fragmentation.[69] Such reception underscored Sutherland's role in advancing British modernism, as his warped thorns and furnace motifs—evident in works like Furnaces (1944)—were seen by advocates as emblematic of post-war renewal through abstraction rather than heroic narrative.[72] In the 1950s, modernist proponents continued to elevate Sutherland's portraits and religious themes, with Clark's ongoing influence evident in commissions like the Coventry Cathedral tapestry (1952–1962), praised for its bold integration of cruciform symbolism and abstract vigor.[7] Herbert Read, a key theorist of organic modernism, implicitly endorsed Sutherland's evolution by aligning his spiky, biomorphic forms with vitalist principles in broader critiques of post-war art, though Read emphasized Sutherland's landscape roots as foundational to his portrait distortions.[73] This advocacy framed Sutherland's oeuvre as a rigorous counterpoint to academic realism, prioritizing empirical observation of form's emotional causality over idealized representation, despite emerging tensions with representational purists.[74]Critiques of Distortion and Lack of Heroic Realism
Critics of Graham Sutherland's portraiture, particularly from the 1950s series, have argued that his deliberate distortion of human forms into thorny, elongated, and insect-like shapes prioritized subjective expression over faithful representation, resulting in images that bordered on caricature rather than objective likeness.[75] This approach, influenced by Surrealism and Picasso's cubist fragmentation, often rendered subjects with jagged contours and exaggerated features—such as protruding ears, hunched postures, and gnarled textures—that emphasized vulnerability and decay, eschewing the dignified proportionality of classical or Renaissance portraiture.[12] Art observers noted that Sutherland's technique, while innovative, transformed eminent figures into grotesque hybrids, stripping them of inherent nobility and reducing complex personalities to elemental, almost subhuman essences.[75] A prominent instance of this critique arose with Sutherland's 1954 portrait of Winston Churchill, commissioned for his 80th birthday by the Parliament of the United Kingdom and presented on November 30, 1954. Churchill, who sought a depiction embodying his stature as a wartime leader, recoiled at the result, describing it as portraying him as a "mummified" figure with a distorted, subhuman quality that mocked rather than honored his legacy; he sarcastically dubbed it a "striking example of Modern Art" during the unveiling.[49] The painting's thorny background and the subject's frail, hooded eyes and sagging jowls exemplified Sutherland's aversion to heroic idealization, opting instead for what he termed an unflinching capture of "essential truth," which critics and the sitter alike saw as a failure to convey resilience or grandeur.[76] Clementine Churchill ordered its destruction by fire in the mid-1950s, reflecting broader discontent with modernist portraits that distorted public heroes into frail archetypes amid post-war Britain's desire for uplifting symbolism.[53] Such distortions drew fire from traditionalists who contended that Sutherland's lack of heroic realism undermined the portrait's role in perpetuating cultural memory, favoring introspective morbidity over the ennobling verisimilitude seen in works by predecessors like Augustus John or Sargent.[3] While Sutherland defended his method as revealing inner character through organic abstraction—citing studies from life where he sketched Churchill over multiple sessions in 1954-1955—detractors argued it verged on psychological exaggeration, alienating viewers expecting affirmation of subjects' achievements rather than their frailties.[3] This tension highlighted a divide between modernist experimentation and demands for representational integrity, with some contemporary reviews praising the raw honesty but others, aligned with Churchill's view, decrying it as an artistic betrayal of heroic subjects.[76]Legacy and Market
Influence on Post-War British Art
Following World War II, Graham Sutherland held a preeminent position in British art, recognized as one of the nation's most celebrated painters and tasked with major commissions such as the monumental Christ in Glory tapestry for the rebuilt Coventry Cathedral, completed in 1962, which symbolized themes of destruction and renewal central to post-war cultural reflection.[24][77] His wartime depictions of devastation, featuring jagged, thorny forms and surreal distortions of urban ruins, influenced the exploration of existential dread and human frailty in subsequent British works, as evidenced by parallel developments in artists confronting similar motifs of violence and fragility.[78][12] Sutherland's close association with Francis Bacon during the 1940s exemplified his mentorship role; as an established figure, he actively promoted Bacon's early paintings, praising their raw intensity and facilitating exhibitions that elevated Bacon's visibility amid the post-war London art scene.[79][80][81] Their shared interest in brutal, distorted religious imagery—seen in Sutherland's 1946 Crucifixion and Bacon's contemporaneous three-panel works—fostered stylistic exchanges, with Sutherland's organic, spiky abstractions contributing to the grotesque expressiveness that defined Bacon's mature oeuvre.[78][82] By synthesizing British romantic traditions with continental influences from Picasso and surrealism, Sutherland provided a model for younger artists navigating the shift toward figurative modernism, encouraging a figure-based approach imbued with personal vision over pure abstraction, which resonated in the 1950s British revival of expressive portraiture and landscape interpretation.[83][84] His emphasis on distorted forms and symbolic thorns, rooted in war observations, prefigured elements of the "geometry of fear" in British sculpture and painting, underscoring a collective post-war preoccupation with apocalypse and resilience.[85][86]Auction Records and Recent Exhibitions
Sutherland's auction record was established by The Crucifixion (1947), which realized £709,000 (approximately $1,156,549) at Sotheby's London on 15 June 2011.[87] [88] This oil on canvas, measuring 81 by 54 cm, outperformed prior benchmarks for the artist's oeuvre, reflecting sustained interest in his religious-themed works amid post-war modernist collecting.[87] Subsequent high-value sales include Weeping Magdalen (1952), sold for £356,750 at Christie's London, and Horizontal Form in Grasses (1952), which fetched £325,250 at the same house.[89] These figures underscore a market favoring Sutherland's thorn motifs and organic abstractions, with over 4,000 lots offered publicly since the 1970s, predominantly prints and multiples.[90]| Artwork Title | Sale Date | Auction House | Price (GBP) |
|---|---|---|---|
| The Crucifixion (1947) | 15 June 2011 | Sotheby's, London | 709,000 |
| Weeping Magdalen (1952) | Undated (post-2011) | Christie's, London | 356,750 |
| Horizontal Form in Grasses (1952) | Undated (post-2011) | Christie's, London | 325,250 |