Figural
ROBERT HENRI (1865–1929)
Portrait of Michael MacNamara (Boy in Green Shirt), 1925
Oil on canvas, 24 x 20 in.
Signed and inscribed (on the back): 234 / M Robert Henri
EXHIBITED: on extended loan to the Cantor Arts Center at Stanford University, Stanford, California, 2012–23
EX COLL.: the artist; to his wife, Marjorie Organ, 1929; to her estate, 1930–62; to [Hirschl & Adler Galleries, New York]; to Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln Harris, St. Paul, Minnesota, 1962, and by descent until the present
In July 1913, Henri's search for interesting places and people took him to Achill Island, a tiny land mass off the western coast of Ireland, in County Mayo, which was populated by humble fisherman and farmers. Henri’s attraction to Ireland is not surprising given his family heritage and the fact that his second wife, the red-haired Marjorie, had roots in Ireland, too. Similarly, his friend, the artist John Butler Yeats (father of the poet William Butler Yeats), spoke glowingly of the charms of the Emerald Isle, often expressing his devotion to his homeland by quoting his son’s poetry.
During his first visit to Achill Island, Henri and his wife rented a 13-room hillside house, called Corrymore, which afforded them fine views of the nearby village of Dooagh and Keel Bay. However, aside from the rugged setting and myriad opportunities for trout fishing, it was the inhabitants of the island that made such a lasting impression on Henri. He was immediately drawn to their sense of wit and self-reliance, which he felt was unique: as Henri put it, “Folk who live in remote places, and especially those who live on islands, are thrown on their own responsibility for amusement.... [E]ach one has to develop the power to entertain others and himself, and so they become exceptional people." Those “exceptional people” included the village children who came to Corrymore to pose for Henri, who deeply admired their unspoiled charm and singular looks; indeed, he once told an interviewer in 1926, “The Irish children fascinate me.” At the same time, Henri had always been drawn to child portraiture, feeling that “If one has a love of children as human beings, and realizes the greatness that is in them, no better subjects for painting can be found.”
Henri painted some of his finest child portraits at Corrymore, where his subjects would usually be served tea, biscuits, or sweets and presented with half a crown after sitting for their likenesses. This probably held true for Michael MacNamara, the youngster featured in this outstanding portrait painted by Henri in Corrymore in 1925. Rendered against a backdrop devoid of distracting detail, the blue-eyed lad glances shyly at the viewer, his body language poised yet highly alert. Critics and commentators of both past and present have lauded the spontaneity of Henri’s portraits, acknowledging the technical mastery that typified his late work. This example––in which Henri renders the clothing and backdrop with exuberant brushwork while denoting Michael’s innocent, rosy-cheeked face with a slightly firmer touch––is no exception. The varied palette, wherein rich greens merge and mingle with vivid reds along with yellow-golds and an array of flesh tones, is also very much in keeping with the artist’s portrait work of the 1920s; deftly applied touches of white contribute to the verve and sparkle of the image. Indeed, this sensitive yet boldly rendered painting reminds us that “One never feels that Henri is showing off in paint, but that he is revealing with deep respect his surprise and joy in human beings.”
