Review: Lucian Freud Portraits at the National Portrait Gallery

Exhibition: Lucian Freud Portraits, National Portrait Gallery, London, until May 27 2012

Lucian Freud (1922-2011) is one of Britain’s most well-known and prolific portrait artists, so it’s hardly a surprise that this show, encompassing more than seven decades of work, is big. There are 130 pieces, some of which have never been shown before. 

Negotiating the space, organised in chronological order, is a little confusing, but perseverance will be well-rewarded. The show is glorious, taking you on a tour through Freud’s impressive back catalogue, introducing you to important characters in his life and letting you see the full scope of his incredible talent.

There are a series of etchings next to the ticket queue. These are largely realistic portraits, and a contrast, therefore, to the first painting in the exhibition proper – a small, highly stylised portrait of Freud’s tutor Cedric Morris, completed in 1940.

This early room is at odds with the vigorous, tactile, fleshy paintings we have come to expect from Freud; despite the ‘forensic attention’ paid to the hair in a portrait of his first wife Kitty (Girl with Rose, 1947-8), the finished piece is still unrealistic and slightly flat.

In the 1950s, visitors are told, Freud painted his last picture sitting down. The picture in question, Hotel Bedroom (1954), a haunting self-portrait of Freud and his second wife Caroline, is typical of Freud’s early style – thinly-painted, flat and tight. (Caroline apparently hated the picture, complaining later that Freud had portrayed her, then aged 23, as far too old.)

After this Freud moved to a more energetic style, standing up to paint and using hogshair brushes. The change in technique is dramatic.

It’s difficult to imagine that many of Freud’s sitters would have been flattered by their portraits, but from the late 1950s onwards they had a good idea of what to expect. Freud’s paintings became looser and gained personality, and he began to paint the whole figure instead of just the head.

His 1958-9 portrait of fellow artist (and later lover) Suzy Boyt is unusual because the sitter is smiling, but otherwise sets a precedent. Her skin has life; it’s mottled and textured, with all the colours that are present in flesh if you look closely enough – blues, greens, white, reds.

He didn’t believe in bland skin, and even the gentle, tenderer picture of his baby daughter Bella (Baby on a Green Sofa, 1961) shows her flesh as blotchy and variegated.

His first full-length nude (Naked Girl, 1966) is sublime; viewed as ‘shocking’ by some critics at the time, the portrait shows Freud’s skilful use of colour to emphasise every muscle and contour, with very few brushstrokes. Freud did three paintings of this sitter, all unashamedly direct; he wanted drama in his pictures and he got it in his naked sitters, some of whom are free and unabashed, others in more defensive poses.

Two of the most brazen subjects are the performance artist Leigh Bowery, who appears naked in two huge pieces, and his friend Sue Tilley, the ‘Benefits Supervisor’ whose portrait provoked a media storm when it was bought by Chelsea FC owner Roman Abramovich.

Two of Freud’s most tender relationships are on show in several warm and lovely paintings, of his mother Lucie and his long-time assistant David Dawson. Freud died while he was working on Portrait of the Hound, of Dawson and his dog Eli; the unfinished picture is on show for the first time in the exhibition’s final room.

Four of Dawson’s photographs show Freud at work; one shows him with his portrait of David Hockney (also in the show), another of him painting the Queen. That painting is not here; it’s in Cardiff, but will be back at the NPG for a Jubilee exhibition in May.

A free exhibition guide adds context to some of the paintings and sitters.

If you are looking for the ultimate show on how to paint a portrait, you couldn’t ask for much more than this.

• Open 10am-6pm (9pm Thursday and Friday). Admission £12-£15.40, book online.

More pictures:

Read Jennie Gillions's blog and follow her on Twitter.