Madame X in the MET by Nancy Wang

When I go to the MET and spend hours walking around the museum, first marveling at the architecture and grand artwork, and then slowly moving through, tired and hungry but determined to see everything for the accomplishment of having done so, I eventually step into room 771. There, I encounter Madame X, a striking tall painting painted by John Singer Sargent. The work, with its stark contrast between black and white, features a tall, slender woman in a black dress that contrasts with her fair skin. Her auburn hair is tied into a bun, exposing her shoulders and delicate neck. One hand rests on a table, while the other grasps the edge of her elegant, long black dress. There's something captivating about the strong contrast of the painting, and perhaps, it’s because it resonates with my own aesthetic ideals. The woman's beauty, elegance, and allure are undeniable.

I thought about this work for hours, even after I left the museum. Maybe it was the way the painting fit the conventional standard of beauty so perfectly, or perhaps it was the woman’s almost haunting allure, with her pale skin that seemed almost lifeless. I didn’t think I loved the work, but there was a sense of attraction that lingered with me. 

If you do a bit of research on this work, you’ll learn that it wasn’t a commission, as many portraits were, but rather a request from the artist, John Singer Sargent, for Madame Pierre Gautreau- the main figure- to model for him. Madame Gautreau was renowned in the art scene for her beauty and aristocratic bone structure. In the original version of the painting, Sargent depicted her with a slipping right shoulder strap. While the painting captured the aristocratic ideal—pale skin, a cinched waist, and an elegant figure—the public reaction was harsh. The choice to have the strap slipping was seen as bold and erotic, suggesting that with just one less strap, her dress would completely fall off. This scandalous portrayal damaged Gautreau’s reputation in France, where the work was exhibited, and Sargent’s reputation as an artist. As a result, Sargent revised the painting at Gautreau’s request, repainting the strap back onto the shoulder. But the public discouragement was just a reflection of the sexual and social conventions of the time. Just seven years later, when a different artist- Gustave Courtois painted Gautreau in a similar pose, with the strap of her dress even lower, it was well received. Perhaps it was the idea that painting nude figures was typically reserved for mythical characters or deities and not actual women which made the painting done by Sargent seem more provocative. Female modesty was highly valued, and the painting challenged that. Had the work been released just a few years later, it might have been widely celebrated like Courtois and would’ve propelled Sargent into the French Art scene as he had hoped. 

Personally, I think the contrast of the pale skin and black dress showed Sargent’s success in wanting to study the art of contrast. Had the strap been left drooping, it most certainly would’ve added an extra layer of allure, one that today’s conventions might appreciate even more. There’s an undeniable attraction in the suggestion of exposure through the strap and the elegance that Gautreau’s beauty and posture bring to the painting. If its physical appearance first captured my attention, its backstory kept me engaged and deepened my appreciation for both the work and the story behind it.