Big isn’t always better. Not here, anyway, because this is a show full of tiny, tiny, tiny paintings, and they are gorgeous; achingly small and stunningly intricate portraits of Elizabethan royals, courtiers and poshos by the masters of the form, Isaac Oliver and Nicholas Hilliard.
Miniatures – defined not by their size, weirdly, but by their medium: watercolour and bodycolour on vellum, like chunks of illuminated manuscript – were for the rich. They were shows of wealth for the commissioners, and shows of skill for the artists. These tiny works weren’t for mass consumption, they were luxurious objects for the few. The pieces by Oliver and Hilliard that have survived the centuries are the most intimate looks at Elizabethan life that exist.
With magnifying glass in hand, you stumble through the darkened gallery, moving from case to case to go eye to eye with Sir Walter Raleigh (who, by the way, was well fit), Elizabeth I and the greatest artists, poets and writers of the time. It’s sort of like flicking through a 450-year-old copy of Tatler or Hello! But instead of the daughter of Lady Whatsherchops vomming outside Mahiki, it’s the most dazzlingly detailed mini painting you’ll ever see – the clothing, the skin, the eyes – it’s staggering. This is as close as you’ll ever get to Elizabethan celebs.
And close is the key. You’re forced right up to the paintings to get the details. The best of them are expressive and witty, and many are full of symbolism: a bloke on a background of flames is burning with desire, a bunch of fellas lean morosely against trees, some dude reaches for a hand emerging from a cloud. The portraits of the rich and royal are lovely, but these allusive works are the real gold.
Every image has some secret to share: wry smiles, furrowed brows, hidden carnations. Oliver and Hilliard were masters, creating worlds of indigo and azurite that suck you in. It’s such a meditative, calm experience, peering into these ancient faces, you almost feel like you’ve been dragged back in time. Which is a good thing, because everyone looks great in a ruff.
@eddyfrankel
