Mirrors are often used as a device in representational artwork as a way of including a picture within a picture, showcasing multiple viewpoints on a subject. They help to situate us as the viewer within the scene. They may also hold moral or symbolic significance when featured in certain situations.
It’s usually women who are depicted looking into a mirror. In fact, there is a whole genre devoted to the subject, known as ‘Toilette’ paintings. The toilette painting was part of the eighteenth-century French rococo style, characterised by elaborate ornamentation, pastel colours and light-hearted, sensuous themes. They feature a woman ‘at her toilette’ – during the lengthy ritual of making herself up for the day, including dressing, hair and makeup, often with female assistants on hand.
But who were they painted for? And why represent a woman with her makeup half-done, rather than wait until she is finished and ready for public display?
A lady in her private boudoir in a state of semi-undress is an intimate moment and had a voyeuristic appeal - it’s as if the viewer has walked in on her and she hasn’t yet noticed their presence. Such paintings permitted the male viewer access to the illusive female sphere from which he was usually barred. They were usually done on a small scale and mostly hung in the private cabinets of aristocratic men to add to the feeling of exclusivity. And all this could supposedly be experienced guilt free – as the woman was seen to be admiring herself, there was felt to be less shame in spying on her to enjoy the same pleasure!
Although it may not seem immediately obvious why a woman would want to be painted when she’s getting ready, the life of leisure that permitted such a elaborate daily ceremony was a sign of status. It was a more authentic alternative to representation as a mythological figure, and a classier alternative to erotica. They made sure to feature their most expensive furnishings, clothing and ornamented items in the scene to further denote their high class and refined taste.
François Boucher, Madame de Pompadour at her Toilette, 1750
Although we see the back of her mirror in this painting, the oval frame and the fact Madame de Pompadour is looking directly out at us transforms the picture plane into a sort of two way mirror. This confuses the voyeuristic relationship as we feel she is aware of our gaze.
Leonie's Toilet, Frederick William Elwell, 1894
Here, in a more modern interpretation of the toilette painting, the inclusion of the mirror allows us to gaze upon her nude back (and hint of side boob!), as well as appreciating her face. This arrangement is well known from Velazquez’s Rokeby Venus, but what we often don’t realise is that it’s physically impossible! If she is looking at herself in the mirror then there is no way we could be in a position to see her face too (unless we were right behind her in which case we would also see our own reflection). It’s an artistic construction used to show as much of her as possible. Although Leonie is partially exposed, the toilette setting provides a convenient excuse for it, aimed at validating our voyeurism.
This quote from John Berger’s Ways of Seeing summarises the purpose of the mirror in many paintings of the female nude:
“You painted a naked woman because you enjoyed looking at her, put a mirror in her hand and you called the painting “Vanity,” thus morally condemning the woman whose nakedness you had depicted for you own pleasure.”
Unlike the Pompadour portrait, Leonie’s back is turned to us and we feel as though we are spying through a keyhole – however according to the position of her reflection it’s actually us she sees in the mirror!
Frenchman Shaving, C. Dier, mid 19th c.
Here is a rare male equivalent of the toilette painting. There is a similar sense of an intimate moment, yet the painter has no interest in showing us the man’s reflection in his mirror, presumably because the motive behind the painting was not voyeuristic.
While we may rarely see men in toilette scenes, the equivalent two-way mirror tradition is the artist self-portrait.
In My Studio Mirror, Trevor Makinson, 1952.
Here, Makinson is looking at himself, which gives the impression he is making direct eye contact with us. The unconventional inclusion of the mirror frame and surrounding objects in front creates multiple layers of reality in the painting, with a nod to trompe-l’oeil.
Andrew Forge, Self Portrait, 1956
Once again, the mirror becomes the picture plane and we are positioned where the artist stood to paint. The hint of gilded frame creates a picture within a picture, but its cropped sides break the illusion, bringing our awareness back to the painted surface.
Crucially, the eighteenth century tradition of the toilette painting shows us women as ornaments, seen through the eyes of the male painter and voyeur, while the mirror self portrait shows us the artist as agent, seen through their own eyes.
Written by Hayley Whittingham
www.hayleywhittingham.com / Instagram @hayley.whittingham