"I am so hackneyed to the touches of the Painters pencil, that I am now altogether at their beck, and sit like patience on a Monument, whilst they are delineating the lines of my face." –George Washington, 1785
George Washington’s image is still easily recognizable more than two hundred years after his death.
Entrance of the American Army into New York, Nov. 25th. 1783. (1868) by P. Greatbach after John R. ChapinAmon Carter Museum of American Art
When Washington took office, no one quite knew how to depict a president. He could be represented as a soldier, statesman, or demigod—no one artistic model sufficed. At stake in these artistic portrayals was the new democracy’s stability.
Lady Washington's Reception (1867) by Alexander Hay Ritchie after Daniel HuntingtonAmon Carter Museum of American Art
The Washingtons’ personal virtue and prestige represented that of the nation and artists intended that their portraits reflect the couple’s simplicity, sincerity, and fortitude.
General Washington (1870) by John Rogers after John TrumbullAmon Carter Museum of American Art
George was said to be tall, had a long nose, and the varying quality of his dental work...
Washington and the American Republic (1870) by Benson John LossingAmon Carter Museum of American Art
...changed the appearance of his face.
M. Washington (1870) by John Rogers after John WollastonAmon Carter Museum of American Art
Martha was known to be short but pleasant looking and was customarily plainly dressed.
A Closet Door (1904) by John Frederick PetoAmon Carter Museum of American Art
America’s first great generation of artists individually proclaimed their own works the most faithful representations of the leader.
Parson Weems' Fable (1939) by Grant WoodAmon Carter Museum of American Art
Future generations have found importance in these early portrayals of the first family, repeatedly turning to images of Washington in times of uncertainty.
Artists such as Grant Wood (1891–1942) painted Washington folklore in the face of fascism’s rise, and other artists juxtaposed everyday turmoil with the transcendent image of the country’s first symbol of hope.
Mason Locke Weems (1756–1825), known as Parson Weems, penned the fable of Washington chopping down his father’s cherry tree. Wood shows Weems gesturing toward a six-year-old George confessing to his father with the famous phrase, “I cannot tell a lie.”
Rather than depicting young Washington, Wood borrowed the head from Gilbert Stuart’s iconic portrait of the first president, making him instantly recognizable, building on nineteenth-century beliefs that when it came to portraits of George, even if “a better likeness of him were shown to us, we should reject it; for, the only idea that we now have of George Washington, is associated with Stuart.”
All artworks from the collection of the Amon Carter Museum of American Art, Fort Worth, Texas.
Produced in conjunction with the exhibition "George and Martha," on view at the Amon Carter through July 2015.
Concept and text
Maggie Adler, assistant curator
Jana Hill, digital engagement manager