When most of us think of Gilbert Stuart, we envision iconic portraits of George Washington and other leaders of the new republic. This greatest of early American portraitists certainly did create enduring likenesses of our first group of presidents, and other prominent figures of the day. As a wonderful exhibition at the National Gallery documents, however, Stuart’s artistic legacy also includes splendid images of lesser-known figures in both America and England. For pure aesthetic enjoyment, the latter sometimes outshine his portraits of statesmen. “Gilbert Stuart,” which opened last fall at The Metropolitan Museum of Art and will be on view at the National Gallery through July 31, is the artist’s first retrospective in four decades. With more than 90 works from all periods of Stuart’s long career, the show documents his genius at capturing the appearance and character of his sitters through his choice of pose and expression. Organized by the Met and the National Portrait Gallery, the exhibition is curated by Carrie Rebora Barratt, curator of American paintings and sculpture at the Met, and Ellen G. Miles, chair of the department of painting and sculpture at the Portrait Gallery. Since the latter is closed for renovations until next year, the exhibition is displayed at its nearby sister institution, the National Gallery. An outstanding catalog underscores the beauty of this show and why Stuart (1755-1828) was the most successful American portrait painter of his day. A large, formal, well-mannered gentleman, Stuart wasoutgoing, eloquent, cranky, rebellious and irreverent. He possessedunusual insights into human nature; his great strength was hisability to convey the personalities of his sitters. Stuart was, unfortunately, an artistic procrastinator and inept in business matters; he was perpetually in debt. The fact that he and his British-born wife had 12 children and that he lived extravagantly added to his financial burdens. The son of a snuff miller who had recently emigrated from Scotland, Stuart was born in North Kingston, R.I. His birthplace was an Eighteenth Century gambrel-roofed house in which the snuff mill occupied the lower floor and the family lived in the upper two stories. The house, located in what is now called Saunderstown, is maintained by a local foundation and is open to the public during warmer months. (To visit, it is best to call ahead, 401-294-3001.) Raised after the age of 6 in the bustling commercial and cultural city of Newport, R.I., Stuart’s early talent for drawing led to an apprenticeship with a visiting Scottish portrait painter, Cosmo Alexander, who took the precocious teenager to Edinburgh in 1772. Returning to Newport after a year abroad, Stuart found ready commissions for likenesses painted in the linear, Scottish manner. Among others, he depicted his good friend “Benjamin Waterhouse,” 1775, later a doctor who helped found the Harvard Medical School and introduced smallpox vaccine in America. At the outset of the American Revolution, Stuart’s loyalist family fled to Nova Scotia and he, at the age of 19, moved to London. He was befriended there by American expatriate painter Benjamin West, history painter to King George III, who served as mentor to a number of young American artists. While serving as an assistant in West’s studio, the young American’s work became more sophisticated, with improved use of color and composition and freer brushwork. Stuart’s compelling “Self-Portrait” of 1778, influenced by West’s recent self-portrait that was derived from a self-portrait by Dutch titan Peter Paul Rubens of 1623, suggests the young painter’s increasing skill at painting a polished, perceptive likeness. Under the influence of West and such contemporary British painting luminaries as Thomas Gainsborough and Sir Joshua Reynolds, Stuart created innovative compositions, notably his striking depiction of a handsome young Scottish barrister in “The Skater (William Grant),” 1782. Designed for display at a Royal Academy of Arts exhibition and measuring an eye-attracting 961/4 by 58 inches, this work was unusual for the size of its portrayal of physical exertion. It is a greatly admired treasure in the National Gallery’s collection. Two of Stuart’s most interesting likenesses, both now in the collection of the National Portrait Gallery in London, suggest his increasing ability to capture the personality of his sitters. In the portrait of his mentor West, 1783-84, the stern-looking artist holds a Bible, reflecting his identity as a religious painter. Another American painter in Britain, John Singleton Copley, was depicted, circa 1784, in a flattering manner, erect and resolute, backed by fluffy clouds. Another highlight of the current exhibition is Copley’s audaciously unsparing portrait of Reynolds, president of the Royal Academy and principal painter to the king, who was shown as the dear, snuff-addicted crank he had become in his 60s. This compelling work is from the National Gallery’s collection. By the early 1790s, George Washington’s leadership in the American Revolution and his inauguration as the nation’s first president had made him a celebrated figure on both sides of the Atlantic. After 18 years abroad, Stuart decided to return to his homeland to paint the hero’s portrait and “make a fortune by Washington alone.” He left behind not only debts, but also a number of unfinished portraits. Initially, Stuart stopped in New York, a thriving city filled with potential patrons, but nearly devoid of accomplished portrait painters. He launched a strategic campaign to paint portraits of people who could help him gain an entree to George Washington. Among others, he depicted representatives of the old landed aristocracy, new merchant elite and leaders of the American Revolution. For General Horatio Gates, the hero of the Battle of Saratoga, he created in 1793-94 an idealized military likeness that is at once strong, elegant and monumental. This fine canvas is owned by the Met. Another high-ranking client, Chief Justice of the United States John Jay, undaunted by Stuart’s failure to complete two portraits in London, sat for the painter again in New York. “Stuart’s extraordinary gift of characterization through physiognomic accuracy combined with creative choice of pose is well represented in the Jay likeness [1794],” says Miles. Garbed in a Harvard academic robe, with his hand on a book, Jay looks every inch the noble statesman. Jay provided Stuart with a letter of introduction to Washington, which paved the way for the relatively unknown painter to create his first portrait of the president. Prime examples of the care and aesthetic skills Stuart devoted to painting less famous figures are his pendant portraits of Richard and Catherine Bass Yates, 1793-94. In the more conventional likeness, he showed the slightly rumpled, wealthy businessman working at his desk. By contrast, the much-admired painting of Mrs Yates shows a focused, no-nonsense lady clothed in a shimmering silver outfit, deftly manipulating needle and thread. She emerges from this unsparing yet captivating depiction as the epitome of knowing elegance. Little wonder that, over the years, this canvas has drawn admiring comparisons to the likes of Chardin and Vermeer and, particularly, to Veláquez. It is a high point of the exhibition. Moving on to the capital of Philadelphia, where he stayed from 1794 to 1803, Stuart used Jay’s precious letter of introduction to obtain sittings with Washington. Depictions of “The Great Man” were in great demand, and Stuart was anxious to cash in. The painter’s usual technique for encouraging appropriate expressions and poses from his subjects was to engage them in lively conversation. Stuart’s charm and banter failed, however, to enliven his reserved sitter. As National Gallery director Earl A. Powell III put it, “Washington didn’t enjoy Stuart’s talk.” The artist eventually succeeded in engaging Washington by discussing one of his favorite subjects, horses. All of Stuart’s nearly 100 portraits of Washington – 13 of which are in the show – derive from three life portraits. The first, based on sittings in 1795, is now lost, but replicas of it are identified as the “Vaughn portrait,” named for the first owner of one of the copies. That canvas, in the National Gallery collection, is echoed in the so-called “Gibbs-Channing-Avery portrait,” begun in 1795, owned by the Met. Each shows a somber, black-garbed Washington, his jaw firmly clenched, looking somewhat warily at the viewer. The first portrait was so successful that Martha Washington commissioned Stuart to create a pair of likenesses of her and her husband for display at their Virginia home, Mount Vernon. The posing sessions were not easy: the president sat with a newly acquired set of false teeth that created a bulge around his mouth and distorted his jawline. Called the “Atheneum portraits,” 1796, for the Boston library that acquired them after Stuart’s death, these unfinished works were retained by the painter and used throughout his career to make replicas. Stuart considered this image of Washington his best. Notable for the care with which he captured the skin tones of the subjects, the pair are jointly owned by the National Portrait Gallery and the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. The Atheneum portrait, printed in reverse, has appeared on the $1 bill since 1918. It is the best known of Stuart’s Washingtons. In 1796, the president posed a third time for a full-length canvas that shows him in a formal black velvet suit appropriate to his role as a civilian leader. The composition, replete with objects symbolic of Washington’s distinguished military and civilian careers, shows the chief executive with his hand extended, as though making a speech. It is regarded as the best visual summation of Washington’s public role as the nation’s first president. Measuring a sizable 971/2 by 621/2 inches, this compelling canvas is known as the “Landsdowne portrait,” because it was commissioned as a gift for the Marquis of Landsdowne. Much admired in England and America, it was replicated by Stuart several times. In 2001, the Landsdowne, which had been on loan to the National Portrait Gallery since 1968, was put up for sale by its owner, Lord Dalmeny of London. In a grand, public-spirited gesture, the Donald W. Reynolds Foundation in Las Vegas, Nev., committed $30 million to enable the Portrait Gallery to purchase this American icon for its permanent collection. Stuart procrastinated for years on completing fine, pendant portraits of Washington’s successor, John Adams. and his wife, Abigail Smith Adams. Begun in Philadelphia in 1800, when Adams was in his last year as president, they were finished in Boston 15 years later. By that time, Mrs Adams wore a cap and shawl in fashion at that time, and her husband was shown as he appeared at age 80. Another memorable, albeit unfinished, likeness is that of poet Sarah Apthorp Morton (1800-02) from the collection of the Worcester Art Museum. The sketchy quality of this fascinating canvas, which focuses on the sitter’s beautiful face, enhances what Miles calls “one of Stuart’s most sensual, expressive images.” By this time, according to Barratt, Stuart was “the finest artist in America.” After nine years in Philadelphia, he moved to Washington in 1803, where he painted some 40 portraits in 18 months. Of special interest is the temporary reunion in theexhibition of Stuart’s 1804 portraits of future president JamesMadison (owned by Colonial Williamsburg) and his elegant, outgoingwife, Dolley (White House collection). His likeness reflects hisserious, introspective nature, while his wife, already an importanthostess in the nation’s capital, appears almost demure, posedprimly and dressed in the latest French fashion. Two fine portraits, dating to 1805-07, of President Thomas Jefferson and Secretary of State James Madison were commissioned by their admirer and supporter, James Bowdoin III. They are now prized possessions of the Bowdoin College Museum of Art, the college he established in his father’s honor in Brunswick, Maine. Stuart spent the last 23 years of his life in Boston, where he finished two versions of intense portraits of President James Monroe (1817 and 1821) that capture his direct gaze and slightly pursed lips. In one of his last works, Stuart immortalized 90-year-old former president John Adams (1823-24) in a poignant likeness of the blue-eyed old statesman that reflects his frailty, dignity and alertness. This iconic image is a tribute to both Adams’s strong personality and Stuart’s enduring abilities in his own final years. As curators Barratt and Miles write, “At a time when portraits were used in the United States to celebrate national achievements and public heroes, as well as the self-aware experiences of private individuals, Stuart set higher standards in portrait painting for his sitters, his colleagues and his students.” This exhibition solidifies his standing as the preeminent painter of early national America. The lavishly illustrated, 338-page catalog, written by Barratt and Miles, contains insightful essays on each work in the exhibition, as well as related paintings. It will be the definitive study of the art of Gilbert Stuart for many years to come. Published by The Metropolitan Museum of Art in association with Yale University Press, it sells for $65 hardcover and $45 softcover. The National Gallery of Art is on the National Mall between 3rd and 9th Streets at Constitution Avenue. For information, 202-737-4215 or www.nga.gov.