What's In a Frame? (Thomas Pooley and Mary Beale)

Not long ago, in pursuit of a particularly phenomenal portrait of Irish origin, I found myself learning about the entire group of 18th century Irish painters, en masse. As one does. How better to sort through them and winnow down the field of contenders to a solid attribution? Well, in this case, it didn’t work, but I did find something intriguing.

Along the way, sifting through possibilities, I saved a trio of works by Thomas Pooley (1644-1723, Ireland), with the note “Too early, sadly.” It was a shame, because I’d have loved for this to be the artist. The portraits are fantastic. They’re a trio of youths from the Perceval family, a prominent Irish lineage. I was stunned by the dramatic chiaroscuro and the innovative optical-illusion framing. I resolved to put the artist on my to-do list and delve deeper into his oeuvre.

So, which of Pooley's other paintings could compare to these lovely pieces? Unfortunately, almost none. This exceptional style appears nowhere else in his small and cramped catalogue of current attributions. I found out the hard way, when I was tediously scraping through a pile of reverse image search results, looking for something else entirely. Unexpectedly, I turned up the following image. At a glance, it reminded me overwhelmingly of the Perceval boys. Although rendered with greater softness and a delicate touch, the likeness to the trio is remarkable. Could these be Pooley's handiwork?

Not so. Both paintings are actually the work of Mary Beale (1633-1699), a pioneering British portrait painter and one of the earliest female professionals. It’s very well documented that the elaborate, decorative trompe l’oeil frame seen here is a Beale trademark. In light of this revelation, and with an eye towards delving into the Perceval similarity, I jotted down, “Who except Beale was doing those fancy frames?” Almost no one, and not Pooley.

The concept gained popularity with Peter Lely, one of the greats, and a powerful influence on Mary’s career. (Remarkably, another Lely trompe l’oeil frame, spotted on this signed Lely at Christie’s 2007, is nearly perfectly mirrored by what seems to be a Mary Beale rendition.) Mary employed the visual device like no other, also known as a “feigned oval sculpted cartouche.” A startling amount of Mary Beale portraits feature this trademark. For practicality’s sake, she outsourced the trompe l’oeil painting work to her sons, Bartholomew and Charles. Some Beales with the cartouche are signed, while others are deemed “attributed to Beale,” “circle of Beale,” et cetera. Many are stylistically indistinguishable from Pooley’s Percevals.

The Beale-attributed portrait of Richard Gulston is strikingly alike, especially in the crisp, sharp-edged handling of the crinkled velvet drapery, not to mention the entire design of the pseudo-frame. A portrait of Sir Roger Martin also has a frame nearly identical to the Perceval group’s designs. Other paintings with this frame once sold as other artists, such as “circle of Lely,” have been later confirmed to be real Beales. The list goes on and on… and on… and on. While many of the following paintings (see also here, here, and here) are merely attributed, they clearly form a cohesive body of work. Some could be imitators, or homages. But the consistent sense of design is remarkable.

It’s not hard to see how the Percevals would fit right in.

And yet, despite this curious parallel, there seem to be logistical roadblocks. The Percevals were a distinctively Irish family, and Mary did not travel there to paint. More damningly yet, recent scholarship on Pooley, by Jane Fenlon (2004), appears to indisputably confirm his authorship of the Perceval trio, through contemporary records. Or does it?

“Also recorded in the inventory are details of several copies of portraits by Pooley, including that of Helena Gore, Mrs Southwell, painted by ‘Van Deist’ (Plate 5). Another inventory, taken at the Perceval residence, Burton House in county Cork about 1679, lists at least four portraits there as ‘by Mr. Pooly’.(22) The young Percevals, Philip, Robert and John… had their portraits painted by Thomas Pooley while staying with their grandfather, Robert Southwell, at Spring Gardens in 1674.(23) Three handsome bust-length portraits of these young men, set in elaborate painted ovals and attributed to Pooley, are probably the portraits in question (Plate 2)(24)… These stylish portraits are in sharp contrast to two later oval portraits painted by Pooley… which are altogether more heavy handed in the manner of their painting.”

The author goes on to outright acknowledge the disparity between the masterfully painted Percevals and their baffling successors in Pooley’s oeuvre: 

“The artistic promise displayed in Pooley’s early portraits of the Southwell and Perceval families does not seem to have developed. In fact, it would seem that the painter’s reputation in Ireland must have been based on his ability to copy… Many of his portraits are competently painted, but posed rather woodenly, although the costumes are often stylishly done.”

It becomes even more difficult to reconcile this gap when we compare the Perceval boys to a Pooley painting in the National Trust, Colonel James Corry, which, needless to say, does not send the same impression of remarkable quality. 

However, there is a necessary caveat. Given the scarcity of Pooley’s confirmed works, it is difficult and, perhaps, premature, to pass judgment upon his style as a whole. And he may well have adopted the trompe l’oeil frame from Lely, who was a stylistic influence on him as well as Mary Beale. But there is no denying that other Pooley paintings do not measure up to the Percevals — and, commendably, the aforementioned article points this out without mincing words. 

So, which is likelier? An anomalous period of excellence in Pooley’s career, or a misattributed trio of works by Mary Beale (or, perhaps, another skilled Lely-adjacent contemporary)? And when did all this confusion begin?

The first of the three brothers to go on the record as Pooley was Robert Perceval, sold at Sotheby’s London, 13 Nov 1991. The 1978 date on the cited literature, “The Painters of Ireland” (Anne Crookshank), indicates that the Pooley attribution must have preceded the sale by decades.  

A word of caution: “Ireland’s Painters,” by Anne Crookshank, is not to be mistaken for “The Painters Of Ireland,” by Anne Crookshank. The latter, an earlier publication, is the one cited in the 1991 Sotheby’s sale; and the illustration on p. 23, no. 8, is not our young friend Robert, but rather his brother, Philip. It is easy to mistake the paintings for one another, especially in black and white, as Sotheby’s had done. But they all have their own distinctive character, and their very own unique, yet consistent, painted cartouches.

Paging through Crookshank’s “Ireland’s Painters” (2003), we can find an extensive section on the Percevals. Here, the author draws attention to the disparity in quality between the Perceval boys and the rest of Pooley’s works: “His late works do not show the same talent as his most notable pictures.” Lely is mentioned and compared, as one would expect. And, “strangely enough,” as Crookshank writes, Pooley charged a much higher price to Perceval for “a picture of this size,” demanding fair compensation for what must have been a great deal of effort. 

But the Perceval boys are only bust-length portraits, a mere 30 x 25 inches. Could Pooley have been talking about something else entirely? Indeed, the Dictionary of Irish Biography states outright that the portrait in question is of Sir John Perceval himself, the boys’ father. And, compiling our evidence, the clearest date that we are given for the trio is 1674 (Fenlon, 2004), a full twelve years before the 1686 incident with the expensive commission. 

We are left with very little to work with. No actual proof of Pooley’s commission for the trio seems to exist. We do still have to contend with the record of those “four pictures by Mr. Pooly,” but he may well have been commissioned for something much larger than that standard-size trio. And, frustratingly, other sources of possible insight are thin: the corner inscriptions, citing the boys’ years of death, were clearly added later, not a prescient prediction into their unlucky mortality.

Returning to “Painters of Ireland,” Crookshank tells us a bit more about Pooley - mostly the same information as in “Ireland’s Painters,” but with the additional confirmation that the Percevals are simply attributed on stylistic grounds, and in comparison to a Lely copy, no less. Admittedly, the likelihood of Pooley having painted the family is fairly convincing, especially considering the Irish connection. But how did we go from “may well be attributable to Pooley,” to the current unquestioned attribution?

We have established that comparison points are few and far between among the works of Pooley. But, to play devil’s advocate, one does pass muster at a glance: this portrait of Jonathan Swift, as a young boy. And yet, the catalog text on its own auction page, too, points out that the Pooley connection is mired in controversy. The attribution was first proposed in 1967, described as “clear and direct in Pooley's early manner.” Fair enough, but it’s not tremendously similar to the Perceval boys. And it lacks the creative and innovative pseudo-framing that makes those portraits so striking.

It would be easier to tell for certain if we had all three paintings in hand. But the whereabouts of Robert Perceval after 1991 are currently unknown. Mystifyingly, a Wikipedia image of him is still available, in clear and vivid color, with a cryptic citation that leads to a website “Gallery of the Masters.” The Pooley page found there does not bother to offer any further clarity about the painting’s location, though the contact page for “Gallery of the Masters” directs us to get in touch with the author David Madden. I had wondered if Madden may have the portrait of Robert Perceval in his possession, but his website specifies “all images are already in the public domain,” so who knows where he might have found it? TinEye merely directs us to the downright archaic photo from that 1991 listing. And Google Images helpfully calls attention to the likeness between Robert and the young Sir William Russell, by none other than Mary Beale (again).

Comparing the two artists(?) side by side, I would be remiss not to discuss the obvious differences as well as the similarities. At a glance, there is an austere crispness and a cool-toned palette present in the Perceval boys that we do not see in Beale’s pieces, which have a marked softness and warmth. However, two separate images of Philip Perceval’s portrait - one from “Gallery of the Masters,” the other from the National Gallery of Ireland - have a very different feeling, and different palettes, too. It is challenging, perhaps impossible, to discern what we need to know about these portraits from just one color photograph.

In terms of attribution, the National Gallery of Ireland does away with any ambiguity, squarely labeling the portraits as by Thomas Pooley. It is clear that, after the 1996 acquisition, their mind was made up. The website offers detailed label text for both brothers. From Philip Perceval’s page:

“This is one of a set of portraits of the three Perceval brothers by Pooley, two of which are in the National Gallery of Ireland. The portraits may have been painted when the Percevals were students at Christchurch College Oxford. The fate of the brothers lends the portraits considerable poignancy. Robert, a gambler and duellist, was murdered in London aged just twenty, Philip was poisoned at the age of twenty-four, and John died of jail fever at twenty-six. Pooley came to Dublin in 1676 and became the principal Establishment painter for two decades.” 

The mention of college is promising: the boys could have visited London during their time spent in England. Better yet, returning to the 2004 article, the citation for the 1674 date on the painting specifies: 

“New Haven, Yale Center for British Art, MS 8: ‘In the parlour [at King’s Weston] the children of Lady Percivell, Sr Philip, Sr Robert and Sr John while they went to school at Islington’. Also recorded in the inventory are portraits of ‘Rupert, Robert and Edward Southwell’s Esqrs., being children sons of Sr Robert drawn by Mr Pooley in London about 1674’. It is not clear whether this is a group portrait or three separate paintings.” 

It’s not clear which school in Islington is referred to, but this would seem to conflict with the Christchurch College, Oxford, reference. The Southwell children, family relations of the Percevals, are described as having been “drawn by Mr Pooley in London.” Fenlon also concludes (p. 5) that the boys were painted in London. This could be an exciting way to close the gap with Mary Beale’s London studio location. Note that, unlike the rest, the “Percivell” children are not described as “drawn by Mr. Pooley.” 

Back to the National Gallery of Ireland. On John Perceval’s page, there is an even more thorough biography, detailing his status as a short-lived ne’er do well: 

“This half-length portrait is one of three of a set of the Perceval brothers. All three brothers attended Christchurch College, Oxford, when this painting might have been painted. John was born in Egmont, County Cork, and in 1680 succeeded his eldest brother Robert to the baronetcy. Tragically, through presented as fresh faced, confident dandies in Pooley's portraits, all three brothers died young. Robert, a gambler and duellist, was murdered in the Strand, London, aged just twenty, while Philip was poisoned at the age of twenty-four, and John died at twenty-six of jail fever, contracted from prisoners. It is believed that the artist received some instruction in painting from Sir Peter Lely (1618-80). He arrived in Dublin in 1676 and became the principal painter of the Establishment for about the next twenty years.

Sir John Perceval was born at Egmont, Co. Cork. In 1680 he succeeded his eldest brother Sir Philip, who had died childless. His second brother, Robert, a gambler and duellist, had been murdered three years earlier in the Strand, London. Sir John married in 1680 and returned to live in Ireland in 1682, reclaiming some of his father’s political offices. He was profligate, however, and quickly exhausted his inheritance. Like his brothers, he died young having contracted jail fever from prisoners while serving on the grand jury assizes in Cork.”

One would hardly guess all of that from the sweetness of his portrait. And, just like his brother’s painting, the imaging and photography is widely variable: this photograph from a 2020 visitor shows a remarkable softness, drastically at odds with the crisp, possibly over-edited, photograph found elsewhere. 

Again, it is hard to miss how the style calls Mary Beale to mind. With that in mind, as I was researching this subject, I finally thought to search for “Mary Beale” and the Perceval name together. And, satisfyingly, I discovered I was not the first person to notice the likeness! The Perceval boys were sold at Christie’s in just 1994 (11 Nov 1994 #76), as “Follower of Mary Beale.” It’s not hard to see why.

The Pooley attribution sprung up sometime between 1994 and 1996, presumably when those two portraits were linked to their third brother. When they were re-sold at Christie’s London on 12 Jul 1996 (#64), Philip and John were accompanied by a prodigious lot essay. Amusingly, despite the thorough history, no mention was made of their sale as Beale-adjacent just two years before. 

“Very few works by Pooley survive in sufficiently good condition to give a clear idea of his style,” it reads, followed by a mention of the comparison to a Lely copy — hardly a clear and objective basis to judge attribution. We are told that Pooley studied law (but not necessarily painting) in London, and are reminded again that he painted Sir John (but not necessarily his sons). It all seems so very circumstantial. 

And yet, Mary Beale’s life and works are unusually well-documented, so it would seem improbable for such a commission to go totally unnoticed. Nevertheless, the likeness to Mary’s signed works, such as William Foster (1683), Sir Basil Dixwell (1681), and Comport Fytche (1685), is remarkable. Perhaps Mary didn’t paint the Perceval boys. Or did she? Statistically, what are the odds of both artists having painted nearly the same exact faux frame? Could Thomas Pooley (1646-1723) have been, in some way, a follower of Mary Beale (1633-1699)? It’s not impossible, considering that he is believed to have studied in England. No matter whose paintbrush gave life to that trio, Mary’s stylistic influence may have been more extensive than originally known. 

Personally, I still don't know what conclusions to draw. Mary Beale has already received much significant and well-deserved scholarship, while I am just getting acquainted. I am not the one to say whether she actually painted the Perceval boys. I am simply here to write about my initial observation, which is: wow, those paintings really look alike! It’s hardly the peak of academic rigor, but the essence of connoisseurship is based on that feeling. These questions are worth asking.