Simon Schama brings Britain to life through its portraits, as seen in the five-part BBC series The Face of Britain and the major National Portrait Gallery exhibition
Churchill and his painter locked in a struggle of stares and glares; Gainsborough watching his daughters run after a butterfly; a black Othello in the nineteenth century; the poet-artist Rossetti trying to capture on canvas what he couldn't possess in life; a surgeon-artist making studies of wounded faces brought in from the Battle of the Somme; a naked John Lennon five hours before his death.
In the age of the hasty glance and the selfie, Simon Schama has written a tour de force about the long exchange of looks from which British portraits have been made over the centuries: images of the modest and the mighty; of friends and lovers; heroes and working people. Each of them - the image-maker, the subject, and the rest of us who get to look at them - are brought unforgettably to life. Together they build into a collective picture of Britain, our past and our present, a look into the mirror of our identity at a moment when we are wondering just who we are.
Combining his two great passions, British history and art history, for the first time, Schama's extraordinary storytelling reveals the truth behind the nation's most famous portrayals of power, love, fame, the self, and the people. Mesmerising in its breadth and its panache, and beautifully illustrated, with more than 150 images from the National Portrait Gallery, The Face of Britain will change the way we see our past - and ourselves.
Sir Simon Michael Schama is an English historian and television presenter. He specialises in art history, Dutch history, Jewish history, and French history. He is a Professor of History and Art History at Columbia University.
Schama first came to public attention with his history of the French Revolution titled Citizens, published in 1989. He is also known for writing and hosting the 15-part BBC television documentary series A History of Britain (2000—2002), as well as other documentary series such as The American Future: A History (2008) and The Story of the Jews (2013).
Schama was knighted in the 2018 Queen's Birthday Honours List.
Beautiful diverse stories on history and art. Some are real 'who-do-you-think-you-are' stories. The last part, The faces of the people, was my favourite, but I enjoyed them all. Not made for a quick read, but for keeping at hand and re-reading favourite parts.
I first discovered Simon Schama through the BBC video documentary series "The History of Britain," which was a masterful crash course in British history. Despite the vastness of this topic, this series delivered such a depth and flair that it felt like more than just a documentary. It was insightful, rich and, most importantly, delightfully poetic.
Since then, I’ve been hooked on Schama’s documentaries, especially the ones on art history. There’s something about the way he intertwines his narrative with the art that makes it all come alive. So when I stumbled upon "The Face of Britain," I was eager to see if that same magic would translate to the printed page.
"The Face of Britain" explores the portraits of some of Britain’s most iconic figures, weaving together history, art, and biography in a way that only Schama can. The idea is grand, and in theory, it’s exactly the kind of book that someone like Schama should excel at. After all, he’s got this uncanny ability to make you see familiar things in a completely new light.
But here’s where things start to get wobbly. You see, the thing about Schama’s documentaries is that they’re not just about the words. They’re about the marriage of words and imagery, that perfect harmony between what you’re seeing and what you’re hearing. His pacing is slow and deliberate, giving you time to really absorb both the visuals and the narrative. It’s like he’s guiding you through a gallery, letting you linger in front of each piece just long enough for it to truly seep into your bones.
The problem with "The Face of Britain" as a book is that it loses a crucial part of that equation: the visuals. There just aren’t enough pictures. Sure, he includes a main portrait in each chapter, but so much of what he describes in the book is not included in the pictures.
Schama is continually describing the balance, the composition, the expressions—and yet, more often than not, you’re left scrambling online to find the images he refers to. And let me tell you, it’s not always easy to figure out if you’ve got the right one, especially when there are multiple portraits of the same figure.
His video documentaries flow like butter, but this book is an ever so frustrating reading experience. Instead of leisurely flipping through the pages, soaking in Schama’s insights, you’re constantly being pulled out of the moment to do a bit of amateur detective work. It breaks the flow, and before long, you start to lose that connection with the narrative.
It’s a shame because the content itself is pure Schama—thoughtful, erudite, and filled with those little nuggets of wisdom that make you sit back and think. But without the images to ground you, it feels like half the story is missing.
Now, don’t get me wrong. The book still has its merits. Schama’s writing is as lyrical as ever, and he has a way of bringing history to life that few can match. The way he delves into the stories behind the portraits, exploring the lives of both the subjects and the artists, is fascinating. There’s a lot to savor here if you’re willing to put in the effort. But, and this is a big but, it’s not the effortless joy of his documentaries. It requires work, and sometimes that work can feel like a bit of a slog.
In the end, I think "The Face of Britain" is a noble effort, but it just doesn’t hit the mark. If you’re a fan of his work, there’s still plenty to appreciate, but it’s not the immersive experience you might be hoping for. It’s a book that demands patience and perhaps a bit of resourcefulness, but if you’re up for the challenge, there are rewards to be found.
So go into it knowing that it’s not a quick or easy read, and be prepared to do a bit of legwork to fully appreciate what Schama is trying to do. If you’re willing to put in the effort, you’ll find plenty to enjoy. But if you’re looking for the same kind of seamless experience that his documentaries deliver, you might come away disappointed.
I love books about art, and I love books about history, and I love books about art history, so I figured I could hardly go wrong with a book with this title. And indeed, it is charming, although probably better taken in small chunks--I had to gallop through it, since I was reading a library copy, and it's a LOT to digest at one go!
I would say the subtitle is somewhat misleading: It's not "A" history, it's a collection of short histories, on various subjects, illustrated by a selection of reproductions from the British National Portrait Gallery. The illustrations are wonderful, and there are many of them--the book as a whole is expensively and lavishly produced on heavy coated paper, which makes looking at the images a joy (while also making the book very heavy to hold!)--but so many more paintings are referenced in the text that I continually found myself frustrated at not being able to see portraits so lovingly described. (That feels ungrateful, but it's true nonetheless.)
I am a long-time fan of Simon Schama's television hosting as well as his writing, and this book is far more like the former than the latter. I haven't seen the television series it companions (yet; I believe and hope it will be shown on PBS eventually), but I wouldn't be the tiniest bit surprised if this was a fleshed out version of the show transcript because Schama's speaking voice comes through loud and clear on every page--I could almost see and hear him as I read. That is a strength of the book, but it is also a bit of a weakness, because it makes the book feel very episodic, especially at first, when I was expecting more of a connected narrative than the book delivers. Still, I recommend it, especially to people interested in art history.
Kind of an armchair travel book for history and art buffs. The Face of Britain augments the background of the portraits from London's National Portrait Gallery in the way that only Simon Schama can: quirkily; detailed, and deeply interesting. You can read this the way you might walk through a gallery, browse until you find a portrait that captivates, then stop to read the background. Destined to be a book to sit by my armchair for quite awhile.
Simon Schama can do three things with a portrait: first, he can explain what its pictorial qualities are and position it in the tradition of portrait painting and art history in general. What is new in the style or innovative in the technique? How is it an expression of the art schools of its time? Secondly, he can tell us about the historical function of the portrait and the historical context in which it was created. Portraits had a different function in the Elizabethan age than in Victoria's time. What role did this portrait play in history or how does it represent the issues at stake in the time of its creation? Thirdly, there always is an anecdote about the painter, the sitter or the portrait itself. Churchill looks fierce, not because he is determined to beat Hitler but because an audacious photographer brutally took his cigar away. Most of the time he does the three things together which results in a most enjoyable read.
In about five thematic chapters (power, love, fame, self-portrait, (common) people) Schama discusses a wide range of portraits, hopping from one era to another explaining how portraits and the represented theme have evolved philosophically and visually over time. Be prepared to face an avalanche of names and historical references that may at times hinder the fluency of the reading unless your erudition equals that of Schama. Have a google device nearby.
But see it through and you will be rewarded with more or renewed insights into British history and in art history. As a bonus you will have amply expanded your stock of interesting facts and amusing stories and hence your range in conversation.
The hardcover is a beautiful book with quality pictures of most of the portraits discussed.
Aan de hand van portretten (gschilderd, getekend, etsen, foto's) vertelt Schama over de geschiedenis van Engeland. Geen bepaalde volgorde, meer thematisch. Maar steeds erg interessant. Het is niet allen de geschiedenis an sich, maar ook het verhaal van de kunstenaars en degenen,die geportretteerd worden. Typische Schama stijl met veel humor. De reproducties zijn mooi. Het is ook een boek om alleen plaatjes te kijken.
A book which accompanies a television series (and a gallery exhibition) and which uses paintings in the National Portrait Gallery and the stories behind them to tell the history of British painting often in the context of wider British social history.
Although there are lots of the paintings reproduced, many referred to in the text are not and the book is very unstructured, both between and within sections and chapters.
Delightfully eclectic romp through British portraiture ... bouncing back and forth through the centuries, engaging artists, photographers, etc., and their subjects ... part history, part art critique, part social commentary ... well-illustrated, as one would expect ...
There's something powerful and elemental about portraiture; about meeting another person's gaze across time and space. Similarly, the process itself, the complex dance between the subject, the artist, their actual appearance, what they desire to appear, and the chance that the image captures something of their essence, is also fascinating and powerful. And when portraiture becomes systematized, as it does in the National Portrait Gallery, that adds all the complications of public notability.
There's a great deal of potential in this work. It's a fascinating topic and Schama has the art historical background to pull it off. But only a few sections really gel as a cohesive whole; the first chapter on power, the last chapter on ordinary Britons, some of the asides on caricature and miniature paintings which were carried as a constant reminder of a beloved one. Basically, for an American, what this book needed was more structure and context on about 200 years of British history from 1750 to 1950. I consider myself reasonably well-read and an amateur historian, but I only know enough to sketch an outline of this period, and Schama is so caught up in breathy gossip that I lost track of what he was gossiping about. What could be insightful tends towards a ramble through the British Gallery.
This book probably also suffered because of my tendency to marathon through whatever I'm reading. At a chapter a day, the tone might grate less. Still, lots of beautiful plates and fun words, even if the choice of images in a chapter can be somewhat frustrating.
Simon Schama deals with the history of British art through his painters and especially the portrait painters. He does this in a fascinating, detailed and very anecdotal way. What is striking is that British painting was less prominent internationally. Perhaps with the exception of the second half of the last century (Freud, Bacon, Hockney), British painting faded somewhat with that of the continent. When he treats William Hogarth as one of the first to capture everyday street life in the UK in the 18th century, he says almost casually but tellingly: The Dutch did this 100 years ago. But Schama tells it all so lovingly and interestedly that it becomes a very fascinating experience. The story of the portrait of Winston Churchill by Graham Sutherland is beautiful. Despite the many illustrations, I kept the laptop with me and looked up the paintings discussed, perhaps cumbersome but certainly enlightening. Great book
It’s taken me months, even years, to read through Simon Schama’s The Face of Britain: The Nation Through Its Portraits, and I was taken aback to discover that the book suddenly ended on page 508 and that what followed was the first 68 pages repeated. I’ve made a complaint to Penguin and hope to be sent a replacement copy. The book contained much that intrigued me, and I’ve picked out two stories that leapt out. One I tell below, and the other in another blog. (I feel the need to record that although I enjoy reading Simon Schama, not least in the Financial Times, I fear that he overwrites. I often have to read his sentences twice more because of their awkward construction than their beauty.)
(Penguin responded in less than 24 hours and are sending me a new copy. I'll read what I imagine to be the last few pages.)
Prolific author Simon Schama is at heart a storyteller. In this his latest book he uses selected portraits from the National Portrait Gallery in London to tell stories both about the men and women portrayed, some well known, others not, and the artists themselves, again some famous and some entirely new to me. Altogether it makes for entertaining reading and a different angle on British history and society. One of my favorites: the "rainbow portrait" of Queen Elizabeth wearing a gown with embroidered eyes and ears, symbolizing the all knowing nature of the monarch. A bit bizarre to our modern sensibilities, but in light of recent events, maybe due for a comeback.
This achieves a good balance of history and analysis of the visual aspect of art, and despite the fact that each section of the book focuses on a different theme of portraiture with individual chapters then tackling specific artists ranging from medieval to contemporary times, Schama manages to effectively morph these disparate artists into a cohesive portrait of Britain.
This should have been a television series (maybe it is) or a much much better produced book. Here is the problem - every chapter deals with a loose central theme (women painters, war painters, caricaturists or famous English painters like Gainsborough, Millais, Freud etc.) but the chapters spiral out unpredictably in many different directions from that core. The prose is heavy and florid, the chronology is hard to understand and we never know if the person we are currently reading about is just a bit player who will be forgotten by the next paragraph or somehow integral to the entire chapter. Add to this mess the fact that many paintings are referenced in the text but not shown for the next several pages (with no hyperlinking either which is just criminal. If only publishers would use the potential of the "e" in the e-books) and even worse, many more are not shown at all (possibly because of copyright issues?). This format might have worked with the visual medium where Schama's voiceover accompanies the camera panning over the work of art being described but as a book, it is just a confusing morass. I was hopelessly lost for most of the book and could only follow those chapters where I already knew some background (Millais' Ophelia for example).
It is a book on my favourite subject by one of my favourite thinkers - despite all its flaws, I can't bring myself to give it anything less than 3 stars. But pick it up at your own peril.
Prerequisite: Love of art, interest in the storied lives of artists, and a basic knowledge of the complex history of England. Sir Simon Schama is a BBC documentarian and a history and art history professor at Columbia University, who also authored the 1989 book, Citizens, about the French Revolution. He is a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature. His book, The Face of Britain: A Nation through its Portraits feels like a stroll through Britain’s National Portrait Gallery with him at your side, telling stories drawn from his encyclopedic memory of his nations history and artists. It’s a series of very vivid stories, mostly about the artists, and occasionally about the sitters, both who were instrumental in documenting a national history by portraying an ever-changing cast of characters. He divides the book into parts: Face of Power, Face of Love, Face of Fame, Face in the Mirror, Faces of the People. Each part is a great hall where he examines portraits that describe Britain through portraits of the powerful, or the beloved, or the famous, or of the people, faces Britons would recognize as their own. If, like me, you read Face of Britain by audiobook, lay your hands on a PDF of the illustrations. I did not. Schama reads the book, himself, and his voice does add to the reading experience. Sometimes he can be snarky or reverent, which I don’t think I would have noted had I read the words on a page. But he’s a fast-talker and he reads at quite a pace. Even when I had a pen in hand, I couldn’t scribble notes fast enough to later look up a painting or artist. Having read some reviews by other readers, it sounds like even the print edition could use more artwork images to illustrate his specific comparisons and points. That being said, I got a lot out of this book and I would like to reread it or at least most of it. I really enjoy visiting portrait galleries, imagining the relationship between painter and sitter. Frequently it is more than a professional relationship but, in some instances, it is barely civil. In others, both bite their tongues, don’t say what is weighing on them. There’s a suspended tension between the brush and body that I find quite fascinating. I found his storytelling to be very engaging. He finds a plot to illustrate his various points and then develops them as vivid and passionate stories making the heavy book a quick and entertaining read. Most of the characters of his narrative, you’ve at least heard of. You might not know their body of work or the name of their benefactor, muse or lover, but they are familiar and thus, I was curious with nearly every new story Schama tells. Some stories have stayed with me more than others. The only criticism I have is that I felt that within each part, he could have told more of the history of Britain. I mean there were famous people in 1500 and power-players and lovers in 2010. I realize the pages need to fit between the covers and so it would be impossible to cover every British portrait in detail. I felt the British Art History robustly—but less so, the national history. And it made me hunger for more. I suppose that is a good thing. I’ve always loved when a history teacher puts their subject in the broader context. This book does that by telling mini stories about an artist and a sitter at a certain place and time in their lives and how that intersects with, and in some cases, writes Britain’s history. Now I want to read the same book for American portraits … and probably for every major nation on the globe. Regardless of the form you choose to read this book, expect and plan for taking notes or annotating. If and when I re-read it, I will again audiobook it, but I will also have a print copy in front of me where I can highlight an place sticky notes. I think the print edition would become a valuable reference book for anyone who follows the history of art or the history of Great Britain. It’s a book to savor and study but Schama himself kind of races through it. If you can avoid having a library deadline hanging over your head do so. I really enjoyed this essay-style art history. Had I been able to see the images or had there been a greater connection to British history (particularly the 20th century history) I would have willingly bestowed five.
This book is about pictures in the UK’s National Portrait Gallery, attached to a BBC series which I didn’t see. I have come to appreciating art rather late in life, and perhaps as a result I really enjoyed this look at the history and culture of portraiture. Every chapter is a nicely shaped story about a particular artist or group of artists, or occasionally about their subjects – the section on Emma Hamilton is a real eye-opener if all you know about her is her romance with Nelson. It’s a big book – 600 pages before you get the the end notes – but well illustrated and well worth it.
It’s always great to find new artists to enjoy, and my particular discoveries here were Gwen John, who I had at least heard of before, and Laura Knight, who I’m ashamed to say was a new name to me. This in itself says something about my previous encounters with art – she is not a minor figure, and lived to be 93, and I see that the Imperial War Museum North in Manchester has 13 of her works but I failed to notice any of them when I was there. Her Self-Portrait with Nude is absolutely stunning.
Schama’s writing style is intriguing / quirky and although it can cause the reader to have to re-read a sentence or two, it was not a burden. Working in cooperation with the National Portrait Gallery, Schama selected a variety of items to write about be they silhouettes, paintings, photographs or photographs of 3-D art. Many essays were interesting (maybe the most so was the section on the famous photograph of Winston Churchill deprived of his cigar that Yousef Karsh took---this reviewer did think that there was a story about such a picture of Churchill striding down the street and a photographer pulled the cigar out of his mouth which left a very glowering Winston in the frame) and allowed such that the reader could pick and choose which to read more carefully than others. Several essays mentioned art works that were not reproduced in the book and generated enough interest for further research such as Joshua Reynolds work with the African slaves. Many of those researched came up on the NPG website. Overall, an interesting mix of history and art---with selections not typical of texts covering this type of pairing. Some readers may not enjoy it if they anticipated more famous subjects and artists.
This book is absolutely a keeper. For starters, the idea of describing the history of a nation through its art (and in particular, its portraiture), with the necessary corollary of describing its art through its history, is a wonderful one. There probably isn’t anyone on earth who could bring this off better than Simon Schama. He is a very engaging writer who has done his research extremely well, and presents what he’s learned in a variety of styles, from informative to humorous to exalted to whimsical to deadly serious – never talking down to the reader but very accessible nonetheless. I understand more stiff-necked historians consider his approach too “popular”, but then Schama gets read outside the Academy and they don’t.
The only thing I regret about this book is it didn’t contain a lot of the portraits and other works of art of which he spoke. But that’s what the Internet is for. With my copy of this book at my side, I will find those works of art to make my appreciation of his analysqis of them even better.
I picked this one up because I was in the mood for some non-fiction, and that's certainly what I got. The Face of Britain is a collection of short histories, illustrated by portraits from the National Portrait Gallery, and separated into five thematic sections. It reads almost like a guided tour around the gallery. I enjoyed learning more about some immediately recognisable portraits, as well as about some household names in British art. There were also some enjoyable and moving stories about art and artists previously unknown to me. I think that The Face of Britain would have benefitted from more illustrations, especially as paintings are often described which the reader cannot see, and a more coherent structure. Although it is not surprising that a book with such a sweeping title lacks a strong structure and occasionally resorts to generalisations, it is still disappointing in a book of this size. Ultimately I got what I wanted out of this book, but I think that there was definitely more to get out of the source material.
Not so much a book about the British nation, as a wander through the art history of British portraiture (and into photography), organized thematically rather than chronologically. It was funny that he mentioned Kenneth Clark in the first chapter, because the chapters of this book struck me as like scripts for episodes in a TV series like "Civilisation," which was so big when I was a teenager. It was interesting and well written and I got to find out about lots of artists I knew little or not at all. He pretty much didn't discuss anything before 1600, so he didn't mine the rich vein of portraits of Elizabeth I except in passing. I was also surprised he didn't talk about Vanessa Bell, whose self-portraits spanned her lifetime and were beautiful and interesting. But there was a whole LOT he did talk about and it was a nice break to read something that wasn't going to make me mad or sad.
You really can't do better than reading Simon Schama discussing the history of Britain while simultaneously providing a lecture on art. It really is a master combining his two passions into one project. The idea here is to produce a history of Britain from roughly the Elizabethan era to now using the portraits in the National Portrait Gallery as reference points. But not only do you get the usual discussions of kings and queens and Cromwell but also fascinating pieces on the edges of life: injured soldiers returning from war, Lewis Carroll and Alice Lindell, and when does a photograph change from a depiction of reality into the realm of art. A fascinating way to look at both art and history.
Simon Schama writes about British history using Art - in this case portraits - and about British art using history. Although many different periods from British (art)history are dealt with in five chapters, each concerned with one particular aspect such as Power, Love, Fame, etc, Schama never loses his central narrative line, so that this book never becomes a jumble of names and factoids. Add to that his wonderful writing style, and the beautiful reproductios scattered throughout the book (although having a decent google device at hand will certainly pay off) and you will understand that this has been by far the best book I have read so far this year. Of course, the downside of all this is that I'll have to read all his other books as well. Dang!
Simon Schama's erudition could be intimidating. His vast and particular knowledge of British history and the history of art is more than impressive. And yet, and yet...he is charming, witty and immensely entertaining as a guide to portraiture from the National Portrait Gallery to collectables such as the cigarette cards of the 1940s-50s "the people's portrait gallery" as he whimsically dubs them. This is a delightful read - like visiting the treasures of the British Museum with a dear friend, who is an award-winning professor and also knows how to make you laugh. Highly recommended!
This book is everything I (someone with a history degree btw) detest about history books meant for consumption by the average person, as opposed to academic text books. It was overly wordy and assumed knowledge from the reader which generally just made it seem like it was written for a “certain class” which infuriates me because history is for all!! Books like this only turn people away and cause problems!
Also Schama suggested James Gillray was more influential than Thomas Rowlandson and saying as I did my dissertation on Rowlandson I TOTALLY DISAGREE
Schama writes about art so well, easily understood and appreciated by those (like me) with only a passing interest. The artists and portraiture he writes about cover a wide range, from Holbein, Palmer, Hogarth, Tonks to Jenny Saville. It's also about history, fashion, politics and society, and Schama scatters everything with his wry humour.
A fascinating book about all the different aspects of portraiture from being a deeply personal expression to the historical and social significance. It was like being taken on a magical mystery tour of portraits from all eras and genres, and having the benefit of Sharma’s unique and often quirky thinking and feelings to guide you.
Beautifully illustrated look at British portraiture, grouped by themed rather that eras. Included both well-known pieces like the Chandos portrait of Shakespeare and less familiar works by/of women and POCs.
The book started out with strong recounting of historical portraits, but then the text seemed to drift from place to place, with no underlying narrative or direction guiding it along. Due to this, several chapters appeared fairly arbitrary. The book was excessively wordy at times.