As one of the dominant and subsequently influential factors of the 17th century societal framework, the power economics had in dictating perceptions surrounding the parochial family unit are unequivocally unrivalled for way it enabled the realisation and subsequent evolution of ideas. As aforementioned, the role of the economy in allowing families to define their identity meant ideals and social expectations were orientated around the bourgeois frame of reference as opposed to that of an idealised view of the family, potentially achievable for families at a lower income with parents not working as aids to the monarchy or the government. It should also be noted that, at the time, the influence that both 16th and 17th century poor laws had accounted for nearly £400,000 per annum of the crown’s total income, making up almost 30% total. My repetition of these facts arguably contextualises the family portrait I seek to analyse next, that of Richard Streatfield’s family, painted in 1643 by prolific portrait artist William Dobson.
What Dobson aims to highlight here, having painted for both royalty and the labouring classes at an equal level, is the shared factors and inadvertently, exemplify the influence that typically wealthy representations of family dynamics had on labouring and middling cases alike in the development of aspiration goals and newly assigned values to goods. As Linda Levy Peck expertly qualifies, ‘Luxury consumption grew through expanded demand for existing goods, the creation of new wants and wares to sell goods…’[1] In essence, the emergence of luxury market for these goods gave way to a similarly lucrative black-market selling imitations. While not portrayed explicitly in Dobson’s portrait, it’s important to note the fundamental lack of any items or objects that the family own being presented or highlighted in the portrait, arguably reinforcing the family’s status of middle or labouring class. Furthermore, the mother’s use of the pointing figure gives indictatio and subsequently preference towards the eldest son of the family, with their position in the foreground of the portrait evincing their status of heir to their parents and family.
It also subsequently exacerbates the staunchly religious overtone to the entire portrait, being one of the few things poorer families had in similar abundance to the material wealth of the bourgeois families I analysed previously. The clothing they’re presented to be wearing, starched white collars and (hats) aplenty, evokes a strict sense of moral values reinforced in the muted colours of their clothing, typical for reformed Protestants to wear as a sign of deference and desire for basic, even utilitarian clothing. This is something that
Eamon Diffy touches upon when they make reference to the typically labouring class family as having ‘thin clothing’[2]. While the clothing the family is shown to wear seems incredibly thick in the fabric use and subsequently evokes quality, it also highlights the fact they were most likely wearing their best clothes and while certainly not comparable to the fabrics shown in Sir Thomas More’s family portrait, it highlights the how the same social expectations and goals that families within the social hierarchy of the period had were fulfilled in arguably different ways.
While the portrait acts as a bridge between both paintings of the 17th century, the way which the clash between both portraits is
In contrast to the representation put forward by the Duke of Buckingham, another main aspects between the two portraits that clash and arguably, represent this aspirational relationship are the use of brighter amore eye catching colours. Indeed, when comparing the brighter and more interesting, if nothing else, background of Richard Streatfield’s family portrait and its use of nature (to enhance the family’s surroundings and the public perceptions of them) TO Dobson’s portrait, and the limitation of any eye catching colours, there is a delegable juxtaposition between both families and arguably both classes.
This is unfortunately what the portrait boils down to. It represents Richard Streatfield’s family as typically ‘good’ ‘worshipping’ Protestants without compromising much. However, that’s all the family can really afford to say about themselves. As aforementioned, the price of identity was too high for most, but for those that could afford it, it enabled them to define them and their families more easily. This is exactly what Dobson’s painting exacerbates perfectly.
[1]Peck, Linda Levy. Consuming Splendor: Society and Culture in Seventeenth-Century England. Cambridge University Press, 2005. P. 347
[2]Duffy, Eamon. Reformation Divided: Catholics, Protestants and the Conversion of England. Bloomsbury Publishing, 2017. P. 351
HIST-1068-M01-2019: Remaking English Society (1550-1760) 