Hans Holbein: Successful Careers are the Product of Cultivated Relationships

Hans Holbein the Younger, Mary Shelton, later Lady Heveningham, c.1543?

I recently visited a fine exhibition of the work of Hans Holbein at the Queen’s Gallery, London (until 14 April).

Holbein painted the Tudor court in soft velvets, shining satins and luxurious furs; in elegant gable hoods, smart caps and expensive jewellery. With compelling precision he conveyed his sitters’ warmth and humanity, confidence and wit. At the show you can marvel at the vitality of his preparatory sketches, in coloured chalk - scribbled, scratched and smudged to achieve his desired effects.

I was particularly taken by the way Holbein managed his career, making good use of patrons and sponsors; establishing new connections as the economic and political climate shifted around him.

Born into an artistic family in Augsburg around 1497, Holbein trained with his father and then established himself in Basel, where he painted religious panels and portraits, and designed book illustrations.

During this period Holbein produced several portraits of Desiderius Erasmus, the celebrated philosopher and writer, and illustrated some of his books. Holbein’s relationship with Erasmus came in useful when in the early 1520s religious reforms hit the market for devotional images. The artist decided to try his luck in England, where the Tudor court of Henry VIII was flourishing. He arrived in 1526, carrying a letter of introduction from Erasmus to the lawyer, author and statesman Sir Thomas More. 

'The arts are freezing in this part of the world, and he is on the way to England to pick up some angels.[English coins]’
Erasmus

More thought Holbein’s work ‘wonderful’ and became his first patron in England. With Erasmus’ endorsement and More’s introductions, Holbein soon found work with a rich array of senior courtiers, merchants, landowners and diplomats.

Hans Holbein the Younger (1497/98-1543) - William Reskimer (?-1552) c.1532/34

But power and influence shifted rapidly in Henry’s orbit. When More refused to support the king’s divorce from Catherine of Aragon, the lawyer fell out of favour. He was executed in 1535. 

Holbein meanwhile established new patronage amongst the emergent power circles of the Boleyn family centred around East Anglia; and with Thomas Cromwell, the king's secretary. Cromwell commissioned Holbein to produce reformist and royalist images, and by 1536 the artist was employed as one of the King's Painters on an annual salary of £30.

Holbein created the defining image of Henry: standing in heroic pose, with ornate robes, direct gaze and his feet planted apart. He also drew and painted three of the king’s wives, his daughter Mary and son Edward. Through careful management of his connections, Holbein had made his way to the top of the artistic tree.

Holbein was particularly valued because his portraits were considered accurate. With the king periodically jettisoning his wives, his ambassadors found themselves scouring the royal courts of the Continent for potential new partners. Nervous about ‘whether their images were like to their persons,’ they trusted Holbein to paint them.

Hans Holbein the Younger, John Godsalve, c.1543 CREDIT: Royal Collection Trust/ His Majesty King Charles III 2023

On one such mission Holbein created a portrait of Anne of Cleves whom Henry subsequently wedded in 1539, at the encouragement of Cromwell. The king however was disappointed with Anne in the flesh, and he divorced her after a brief, unconsummated marriage. Cromwell (rather than Holbein) was blamed. He fell out of favour and was executed in1540.

Although Holbein had steered a course through the choppy waters of the Tudor court with admirable dexterity, his career never quite recovered from the demise of Cromwell. He took private commissions, produced miniatures and painted his final portrait of Henry in 1543. He died the same year at the age of 45. 

Of course, Holbein was an artist of exceptional skill. But his success also derived from a considerable gift for networking.

In pursuing our own careers today, we may like to think that we will thrive purely on the basis of our talent and industry; that our worth will be justly recognised by our corporate leaders. But we all need help navigating complex company structures and hierarchies; finding our way through changing industries and sectors. We would do well to nurture mentors, patrons and sponsors; people with experience who believe in us, who will open doors and set us on the right path. Because, as Holbein demonstrated, successful careers are the product of cultivated relationships.

'Don't know what I'd ever do without you,
From the beginning to the end.
You've always been here right beside me,
So, I'll call you my best friend.
Through the good times and the bad ones,
Whether I lose or if I win,
I know one thing that never changes,
And that's you as my best friend.’

Brandy, ‘Best Friend’ (K Crouch / G Mckinney)

No. 461

Me, Myself and I: What Kind of Self-Portrait Would We Paint for Our Brands?

Cristofano Allori 'Judith with the Head of Holofernes'

There’s a myth that the first person to draw was a shepherd who traced his own shadow in the dust with his staff.  It’s telling perhaps that man’s first picture was of himself, a selfie. We are social animals, but we are also enormously self-centred.

This myth of ‘the invention of the art of drawing’ is captured in an engraving at an excellent exhibition at the Queen’s Gallery in London. ‘Portrait of the Artist’ embraces all manner of images of artists, both self-portraits and pictures by colleagues, pupils and friends. (It runs until 17 April.)

One cannot help but be fascinated by self-portraits. Here we get to observe what other people see in the mirror; to assess how they present themselves to the world; to see how they want to be seen.

There were practical reasons for artists to engage in self-portraiture. Drawing or painting oneself provided the opportunity to practice, experiment and explore; to consider different facial expressions, moods or pictorial styles. And the models came free.

But artists had other motivations. Sometimes they wanted to leave mementos of themselves for family and loved ones. Sometimes they sought to advertise their talent to potential clients. Sometimes they wanted to celebrate their status or success to a broader public. And sometimes they had a message to pass on.

Edwin Landseer 'The Connoisseurs: Portrait of the Artist with Two Dogs'

Artists’ choice of context and theme was often telling. Sebastiano Ricci painted himself attending to Christ teaching in the temple. Johan Zoffany recorded himself amongst his fellow Royal Academicians. Jan Steen depicted himself watching card-players in a pub. These artists were declaring their piety, their prestige, their lack of pretension. Edwin Landseer portrayed himself with his dogs looking over his shoulder admiring his draftsmanship. He seems to be suggesting that they at least properly appreciate his work.

Occasionally artists would adopt mythical roles in order to signal a coded theme. Artemesia Gentileschi presented herself as the female personification of painting itself, La Pittura, a conceit unavailable to her male colleagues. Cristofano Allori portrayed himself as Holofernes beheaded by Judith. He modelled the figure of Judith on his former lover, ’La Mazzafirra,’ and had her mother standing by as the murderer’s assistant.

Of course, often self-portraiture expressed intense self-reflection. Lucian Freud peers out from the midst of deep shadows, his eyes dark with world-weary experience. Maria Cosway stares at us with arms folded as if to indicate her disappointment or disdain. And then there is Rembrandt. He put on costume and fancy dress, but painted himself with unflinching honesty: scrutinising the decay of age, the regret and yearning within.

Rembrandt  'Self-Portrait in a Flat Cap'

One departs the exhibition with a strong sense of the complexity of the human psyche; of the layered self. When we look in the mirror we see many images of ourselves. We are self-centred and self-satisfied; self-doubting and self-deluding. We self-publish and self-promote. We are self-obsessed.

Maria Cosway 'A Self-Portrait '

You would think that in the field of marketing and communication we would be well versed in the contours and complexities of the layered self. But, whilst many of us in the business tend towards solipsism, how often do we subject our own brands to proper scrutiny? How often do we assess them from within rather from without?

What kind of self-portrait would we paint for our own brands? Would we be puffed up and proud, keen to promote our prestige and status? Would we, like a teenager taking a selfie, betray our own fickle airs and shallow affectations? Or would we, like Rembrandt, be honest, searching and direct?

Perhaps we too should occasionally take a long hard look in the mirror.

‘Mirror, mirror on the wall.
Tell me mirror what is wrong?
Can it be my De La clothes?
Or is it just my De La song?
It’s just me, myself and I.
It’s just me, myself and I.’

De La Soul, Me, Myself and I

No. 117