In 1907, after over twenty years of lucrative work painting portraits, John Singer Sargent closed his studio in London, and cut himself adrift to travel where and when he wanted.

The American artists Jane de Glehn and her husband Wilfrid (1870-1951) were long-standing friends. Sargent first met Wilfrid around 1895 when he was working on murals in Boston Public Library, and Wilfrid married Jane Emmet (1873-1961), sister of Lydia Field Emmet, in 1904. The Fountain, Villa Torlonia, Frascati, Italy (1907) shows Jane working at a lightweight wooden easel in the grounds of the villa.

The composition in his Dolce Far Niente (1907) is complex, with five of the figures staggered and slightly out of line along the gentle curve of the bank crossing this unusually wide canvas, its aspect ratio being more typical of marine views and panoramas. Against this are steep diagonals in the middle of the painting, formed by the edge of the brown reflection on the water, the male in the left pair of figures, and the closest female. The cropping of the horizon and any background beyond the immediate meadow and stream gives a sense of space and recession, aided by the foreshortening of the closest figure, despite the proximity of the individuals to one another.

The painting consists of a multitude of daubs, strokes, and dabs of colour, those marks composed to provide just enough information for the viewer to assemble them into the whole, which as a result ‘pops’ out in a vivid reality.

It’s thought that all three male figures were modelled by Nicola d’Inverno, the painter’s manservant, and the woman seen asleep appears to be his friend Jane de Glehn. Sargent had purchased the costumes in the Middle East during his travels there, and they were transported in trunks to this site, believed to be the brook at Peuterey in the Val d’Aosta, most probably in the summer of 1907.

This painting was hung in the summer exhibition of the New English Art Club, London, in 1909, and was favourably received by the critics. It was sold within an hour of the opening of the press view, to Augustus Healy, founder of the Brooklyn Museum, where it has hung ever since.

Sargent’s bravura watercolour sketch of Grand Canal, Venice (1907) is composed of a sparse, even minimalist, collection of brushstrokes of watercolour assembled into a detailed view of the motif. He views Venice from the level of a gondola, the bows of which are also shown. His palette for these sketches is generally centred on earth colours for the buildings, with blue for the sky, water, and usually the shadows.

The following year, his Flotsam and Jetsam follows in the same style, with the figures of young boys in the foreground sketched in roughly to suggest movement.

Sargent was an early adopter of cadmium yellow pigment in watercolours such as Olive Trees, Corfu from 1909, where it ensured that his greens remained lightfast.

He wasn’t dependent on sophisticated techniques, though: Rio dei Mendicanti, Venice from about 1909 works its magic almost entirely using a combination of passages using wet on dry and wet on wet. There isn’t even much in the way of a graphite drawing under its thin washes.

Sargent met up with the plein air specialist Ambrogio Raffele again when he returned to the Alps during the summers of 1909 to 1911, and painted this watercolour of him as an Artist in the Simplon at some time in those years. Raffele is painting a view of the Fletschhorn, to the south-west of the Simplon Pass, using an improvised easel formed from two crossed poles.

In the summers of 1909-11, Sargent stayed with various friends in the Bellevue Hotel at the top of the Simplon Pass, enjoying the cool mountain air at a time when much of the rest of Europe would have been stiflingly hot. While his family and friends whiled away their days in leisure, Sargent got them to pose for a unique series of informal portraits. They may have been reclining at leisure, but Sargent took those watercolours very seriously, and deployed an amazing array of techniques. Among the finest is his Simplon Pass: The Tease from the summer of 1911. For any watercolour artist, it is a lexicon of advanced techniques.

One of the most unusual, used here extensively, is wax resist. Before applying paint, Sargent scribbled over areas that were intended to be vegetation, using a soft wax crayon, probably made from beeswax. On a fairly rough paper, the wax is deposited unevenly, and when painted over using watercolour it shows the white paper through. This creates disruptive patterns of near-white in the midst of the greens, and a superb effect.

Most of the paint used is transparent watercolour, applied as a wash in small areas, and in gestural marks elsewhere. In the upper third of this detail, he has applied white gouache (opaque watercolour) sufficiently thickly for it to now have fine cracks. The large pale blue area crossing the middle appears to have been rewetted and some of its colour lifted to reduce its intensity, although most of his applications of paint over existing paint have been made wet on dry.

Complex details such as the faces and hands of the figures have undergone multiple repainting, starting with the palest flesh of the face, and progressively darkening to near-black. In most cases, the clean edges of the marks demonstrate that these were applied wet on dry, with as many as six different layers in the hair.

In the midst of this complex assembly of layers, Sargent still keeps to the lines of his original graphite sketch, which he uses to give the parasol form, and maintains small reserved areas, here forming the spectacle frames in the white of the paper. He could have used wax resist here, but if using pure beeswax it’s hard to keep the soft wax to fine lines.

Sargent is the Chess Grand Master, the strategist whose moves at times might almost seem random or abstract, but in the end they all come together to bring this masterly watercolour to life.

John Singer Sargent’s move to London in 1886 had proved a commercial success, and he painted portraits of the rich and famous until he closed his studio there in 1907.

His group portrait of The Ladies Alexandra, Mary, and Theo Acheson, normally simply known as The Acheson Sisters, was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1902, where it was both very popular and favourably received. And at first sight, it is indeed a delight, as they sit around the front of a huge urn decorated with floral garlands, one of the ladies reaching up to pick oranges from a tree just above the urn. Even the late Queen Victoria would, I am sure, have approved. However, there are hidden references that link back through earlier portraits by Sir Joshua Reynolds to Nicolas Poussin’s previous paintings of bacchanalian orgies.

Meanwhile, the other John Singer Sargent continued his travels across Europe and beyond. A visit to Venice in 1902 brought this stunning watercolour of Rio dell Angelo, where he provides his response to the Impressionists’ question on the colour of shadows.

The same year, Sargent visited New York, where he painted this portrait of his friend and fellow artist William Merritt Chase in his fifties. He’s immaculately dressed with a carnation in his button-hole, and the tools of his art in hand.

The following year, Sargent was back in Venice to paint this watercolour of Scuola di San Rocco assembled from a virtuoso series of marks and gestural strokes of the brush.

When he broke free of his studio for the summer of 1904, Sargent travelled to the Alps for his first season of serious plein air painting there. He stayed in the Italian mountain town of Purtud, to the south-west of Mont Blanc, where there was a group of Italian artists doing the same thing. Among them was Ambrogio Raffele (1845-1928), probably the best and most experienced of the group; Sargent became particularly friendly with him, and in An Artist in His Studio (1904) shows Raffele at work in his room there.

This painting is a paradox, in that Sargent shows an accomplished plein air painter working not in front of his motif, but in his bedroom. It’s plausible that Raffele is painting a larger version of the small sketch seen at the lower left of the large canvas.

When he reached Venice, Sargent’s watercolours became even more gestural, as shown in this view of Unloading Boats in Venice (1904).

The following summer Sargent turned his attention to his fellow travellers as they crossed the Alps on their way south. He sketched his friends during their siesta, in this Group with Parasols painted in oils in about 1905.

Here they are again in watercolour, in Siesta from the same year.

A decade after her dancing career had gone into decline, and fifteen years after his first painting of her, Sargent produced a completely different portrait of La Carmencita (c 1905). Now his virtuoso brushstrokes capture her motion. His inspiration was no longer Manet, but Giovanni Boldini and his ‘swish’.

In further time out of his studio, Sargent travelled to North Africa, where he painted this Bedouin Camp in 1905-6.

This portrait of an Arab Woman from 1905-06 is another fine example of his watercolour sketching.

At times, Sargent’s brushstrokes appear so casual that it’s almost as if he was just doodling with pigment, as in the blue shadows In a Levantine Port (1905-6). But they coalesce into the image that Sargent clearly had in his mind all the way along, and pop out at the viewer.

最近几个月 Ai 绘画这个话题很火，但基本上大家都只是看个热闹，跟普通人的生活没多大关系。或者说，大家感觉不到它和自己有什么关系。只有相关从业者，感受到了巨大的生存压力和身份危机。

但和当年支付大战的春晚红包类似，能让普通人都参与进来、玩起来的场景可能才能让大家感受到：Ai 绘画意味着什么，能做什么。

尽管众多以文生图的 Ai 工具已经大幅度降低了创作门槛，但是在那之前，各种咒术、法门终究是拦住不少普通人接触 Ai 绘画的一块巨石。我自己也曾在用过某些 Ai 工具后，在一条展示初次接触的创作成果的视频里提醒大家，不要忽视它，但也不要过分害怕它。它一定会给我们的生活带来巨大的变化，只是目前还没积累到那一刻，仅此而已。

如果说有什么场景，类似发红包那样简单明了，人人都可以参与，我觉得有一个非常合适的应用场景，那就是用 Ai 生成定制头像。对于不具备绘画能力、不懂念咒语、不会使用绘图软件的大多数人而言，Ai 画头像就是各类修图美容软件一级的场景，既有尝新和娱乐，也有充分的社交属性，和红包非常相似。

最近试用了一下漫镜，一个感觉是，神情抓得不错，风格也足够多，用它来探索自己不同造型的可能性，还是挺有启发的！因此中途我想到一件事，如果这类产品的效率再高一些，跟各大连锁发型屋合作，预约时就上传几张照片，生成几套发型方案，人到了现场就让托尼老师根据效果图来剪，这不是非常好的体验升级么？谁说 Ai 必然逼得人失业呢？还得是看人怎么用。

除了头像，你觉得还有哪些场景，适合普通人体验 Ai 绘画呢？