Holbein at the Tudor Court review, Queen's Gallery, London

Hans Holbein's 'fierce and determined' Sir Henry Guildford (1527)

(Image credit: classicpaintings/Alamy Stock Photo)

published 24 November 2023

When we visualise the court of Henry VIII, it is probably a picture by Hans Holbein that springs to mind, said Melanie McDonagh in the Evening Standard. His "unforgettable" portraits of figures including the king, Thomas More and Thomas Cromwell, are extraordinarily lifelike: it is as if Holbein's hand "picked up character", effortlessly transplanting personality onto paper. Born in Augsburg in 1497, Holbein spent most of his working life in London, eventually becoming the king's painter. As a result, our Royal Collection is "especially rich" in his work, a treasure trove of wonders now on display at The Queen's Gallery. This "fine" show brings together a number of "exceptionally beautiful" paintings alongside miniatures and 40 preparatory drawings for his portraits, themselves little short of revelatory. In its course, we encounter Holbein's observations of everyone "from royals to merchants", all rendered with uncanny precision.

Holbein arrived in London in 1526 with a letter formally introducing him to Thomas More, said Hettie Judah in The i Paper. More was "impeccably positioned to introduce the painter to the English elite", and agreed to give him work. The preparatory sketches here for a More family portrait (sadly destroyed by fire in 1752) depict "absolutely plausible figures": Cecily, More's daughter, is "sharp and intelligent, strong-willed and observant"; his adopted daughter Anne's "wry look" and pale blue eyes suggest "a hint of boredom". Elsewhere, studies for Holbein's "magnificent" solo portrait of More – now in New York's Frick Collection – reveal much about his technique. The finished work, however, is not on display – it is one of many major paintings represented only through small photos or "inferior" copies by other artists. The Queen's Gallery does not bring in loans from other institutions, meaning that even the four Holbeins owned by the National Gallery are off-limits. "Fascinating" as this exhibition is, you can't help wishing that there were just "a few more paintings" here.

Nor do we see a single Holbein likeness of Henry VIII himself, said Waldemar Januszczak in The Sunday Times. It hardly matters: exciting though his kingly portraits of "the man mountain with the cowboy stance" are, his drawings here have a "miraculous intimacy". In fact, when we do see a drawing exhibited alongside the painting for which it was executed, the earlier study invariably feels "more trustworthy" than the finished work. Holbein's painting of courtier Sir Henry Guildford, for instance, sees him looking "fierce and determined"; the drawing on which it was based, meanwhile, depicts him "thoughtful and sad". It's just one highlight of a "wondrous" exhibition that "brings the Tudor court to life more vividly than the entire bookshelf of Hilary Mantel".