4 Art Experts Analyze That Historic Nancy Pelosi vs. Donald Trump Photo
Some see Renaissance influences; others, hints of Norman Rockwell. Have you noticed the Benjamin Franklin bust in the background and the clock on the mantle bisecting the frame? The instantly iconic photo of Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi literally standing up to Donald Trump in a contentious cabinet-room meeting about Syria on Wednesday is sparking a great many takes, both about the political dynamics—Pelosi stood out, literally, as a woman at a table lined predominantly with men—and the photo’s artistry. It was snapped and released by an uncredited White House photographer.
Tellingly, the president perceived the photo of a powerful woman asserting herself as somehow incriminating: He tweeted it on Wednesday night with the cantankerous caption: “Nervous Nancy’s unhinged meltdown.” But it was quickly reclaimed as more evidence of the first and only female Speaker’s political courage; Pelosi herself made it her Twitter background photo.
Discourse soon raged about the photo’s composition, lighting, and even its likenesses to The Last Supper. To further examine what will surely go down as a historical Trump-era photo, Vogue asked an art history professor, a museum curator, and two former coeditors of the Tabloid Art History Twitter account for their close reads.
Nika Elder, Ph.D., assistant professor of American Art at American University
One of the things that stood out to me is that Nancy Pelosi is standing at the same height as the bust of Benjamin Franklin. It draws an equivalence between the two of them in terms of their impact. And her figure is actually being superimposed on the bust of George Washington—that’s who we would see if she were sitting down. Basically, the photo is replacing this sculpture of the first president with the living, breathing body of the first female Speaker of the House.
Pairing people with sculptural busts actually has a precedent in art history. It’s by no means an exact parallel, but Portrait of Citizen Belley, ex-Representative of the Colonies by a French artist named Girodet came to mind. It’s a portrait of a man named Jean-Baptiste Belley, who was involved in the Haitian Revolution and went on to become the first black deputy in the National Convention in France, and he’s standing next to a classic bust of a [white] philosopher named Raynal. The painting as a whole is speaking to ideas about black liberation. When I looked at the Pelosi photo, it’s using a similar strategy to make a point about female power.
Another important aspect of the photo is the painting hanging on the back wall: It’s by a French artist, Charles Édouard Armand-Dumaresq, and it depicts the Declaration of Independence. Paintings like this one are called history paintings. They were really popular at the end of the 18th century and beginning of the 19th, and they depicted important political events, military events, and diplomatic events. [American artist] John Trumbull did all of these massive history paintings in the Capitol—Nancy Pelosi herself surely sees them often. The Pelosi photo reads like a modern-day equivalent of one of those paintings, but with one important difference: There is a woman in it, and she’s the most active and most powerful person in the image. This is a photo encapsulating the idea that the future is female.
Chloe Esslemont and Mayanne Soret, coeditors of the former Twitter account, Tabloid Art History
Chloe Esslemont: Part of what strikes me about this image is that the internet loves to shout “Accidental Renaissance” at compelling candid pics. Usually when that’s done, the pictures actually fit more into the Baroque category, with lots of dramatic movement. For once, this Pelosi/Trump image does actually seem to fit more into the Renaissance side of things, with less of the “in the moment” movement that characterized Baroque images; most of the figures here have more of the “stillness” quality that differentiates the two.
The background behind Pelosi is a white background that is radiating light—it makes her stand out, and the figure of her head/torso appears clearer than it would if it had been shot face on, which would have seen the people sitting behind her be the background. I think if it was head-on, that would definitely evoke even more of a Renaissance feel—think about the POV of The Last Supper, for example.
Mayanne Soret: The composition itself does have this stillness, which is very common in 18th-century historical paintings. It tends to focus on a moment before or after the historical event and uses the depiction of history not only to represent but also to generate a narrative. It often feels like you are in the middle of the action and have suddenly pressed pause, in a moment chosen by the artist to heighten the painting’s metaphorical value. It is not surprising to me that political/current affairs photographs would play on the same compositional devices, as we still very much construct visual meaning the same way.
Angela Mack, executive director and chief curator at The Gibbes Museum of Art in Charleston, S.C.
When I clicked on the photo, my mind was going back to all of the images in art history that relate to tables, from The Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci to Norman Rockwell’s Thanksgiving Picture (Freedom from Want), which has the wife carrying the turkey to the table. Most table scenes in art history are viewed as opportunities for people to get together and understand one another, but the Pelosi/Trump photo really represents a very different concept—an adversarial spirit as opposed to a coming-together spirit. It’s not your ordinary table scene.
Another really significant table scene is The Beheading of St. John the Baptist by Caravaggio. The king’s daughter had danced at this party, and so as a thank you gift, she was asked what she wanted, and she said the head of John the Baptist. So he’s beheaded and brought before the table setting. Table scenes, I guess, can bring people together or tear them apart.
Originally Appeared on Vogue
