The art of the selfie, going back to 1657
Where were you when you first heard the word “selfie”? The term for taking a photo of yourself and sharing it online was first coined in 2002, and has since become ubiquitous. Now selfies are used by everyone from navel-gazing millennials to megastar celebrities (most famously Ellen DeGeneres and co at the 2014 Academy Awards) to broadcast their identities to the world.
Ai Weiwei, the Chinese contemporary artist and political dissident, uses selfies as part of his work. His Instagram account contains thousands of images from the past few years, many of them selfies, recording the artist in poses that allude to famous works or simply record his image in a certain place and moment. A projected slideshow of 50 of these images is one of the first pieces you encounter on entering the Scottish National Portrait Gallery’s summer exhibition exploring the history of the self-portrait, Facing the World.
Selfies were not invented in 2002. Facing the World charts the art of the self-portrait across six centuries, organised thematically rather than chronologically, to explore the roots of their modern-day explosion in popularity. Works by Andy Warhol, Paul Klee and Marina Abramovic, with a wide range of others, are bookended by technological installations that allow visitors to take their own selfies to be uploaded to screens in the exhibition. The idea is that a selfie is more than just a narcissistic expressive device for the modern teenager.
The boldest statement is in placing the slideshow of Ai Weiwei selfies, and a printed triptych of images taken in 2009 by the artist when he was arrested and suffered a brain haemorrhage, at the entrance opposite Rembrandt’s Self-portrait, Aged 51 (1657).
Ai Weiwei’s works feel journalistic and immediate: the triptych is shocking in its portrayal of the brutality of political enforcement, while the slideshow of his selfies is interesting mostly because of the sheer volume of self-documentation. Positioned so close by, Rembrandt’s portrait is a striking contrast. An ageing face in warm light, it feels not narcissistic or journalistic but truly introspective, revealing how perceptions of the self change as the body alters. It’s a work of detailed intellectual and emotional engagement. Next to the Instagram slideshow, and the technical photo installation displaying visitors’ selfies, Rembrandt’s slower, richer artistic gifts feel all the more miraculous.
There are some truly stunning works to see. John Byrne’s Self-portrait
in a Flowered Jacket (1971-3) is a lush and extravagant evocation of hippy culture. Louis Janmot’s arresting Self
portrait (1832) shows the artist looking confrontationally at the viewer, an almost aggressive act of self-criticism. He holds a paint palette and brush like a weapon, and his act of self-portraiture feels violent and transgressive.
Max Beckmann’s woodcut and drypoint etchings offer some of the closest engagements here with the power and determination inherent in capturing the self, and his Self-portrait
in Bowler Hat (1921) and Self-portrait (1922) are stark, angular images of strength and decisiveness.
Marina Abramovic’s 1975 film, Art Must be Beautiful, Artist Must be Beautiful, in which the artist repeats the phrases in the title while brushing her hair ever more violently, is hypnotic and intense, while Andy Warhol’s Self-portrait with Platinum Bouffant Wig (1981) explores performance and playfulness with provocative hedonism.
Not all self-portraits have faces. Samuel van Hoogstraten’s Trompel’oeil Still Life is a painting showing only carefully arranged possessions through which can be deduced the personality of the artist: a shaving box and a quill pen are pieces of the puzzle.
But the exhibition shies away from exploring the exact point where the throwaway technology of the instant snap intersects with art. Everything is presented together, with the result that the uploaded selfies from gallery visitors are elevated to a slightly baffling degree. Is the message here that, were I to take a snap of myself on my phone, taking all of 10 seconds, I am drawing on a rich history of the art of the self-portrait? It feels a stretch to say so. Not that the instant selfie is without worth – as Ai Weiwei shows, it can be an important artistic and political tool – just that it’s a different beast: a moment in your life, snatched and preserved, not necessarily always a considered work of argument.
There is a wealth of fascinating work on display here, but the link between the modern selfie and the history of the self-portrait isn’t always elegantly drawn. Max Beckmann put it best: “Since we still do not know what this self really is… we must peer deeper and deeper into its discovery.” We are only 15 years into the revolution of the online selfie, and there is surely much more discovery to come.