Connections/Smile

My name is Kathy Galitz, and I'm an art historian. A visitor asked me a question about smiles in portraiture. And it took me back to my childhood.

I sort of thought of a smile as one thing, you know an emotional response to feeling happy. And of course those are the best smiles because they're completely spontaneous, they're completely uninhibited, completely natural.

Whereas the whole history of art shows an array of smiles.

I learned about these male youths in college. They have this expression on their face that's been described as the archaic smile. The sculptor was simply looking for a way to

animate the face. He's not actually smiling for any kind of expressive or emotional reason, it's actually an aesthetic function.

You always see the Buddha with this smile. And of course the Buddha isn't smiling because he's happy, well, in the sense that you or I would be happy, rather it's a smile that's symbolic of enlightenment, of wisdom, of compassion. Yet it does serve as a way of connecting us to the Buddha.

Madame Leblanc has just the faintest hint of a smile. It's that enigmatic smile that makes one think of probably the most famous smile, the Mona Lisa smile. And it was just at the time that Ingres was working on his portrait, that French art critics had rediscovered Leonardo's Mona Lisa and they were fixated on her smile and what it meant

and nobody could arrive at a clear meaning. So I sort of see Madame Leblanc and Mona Lisa as sisters in this sort of smiling.

I noticed a lot of smiling in scenes from everyday life. This couple in front of an inn, they're actually—he especially—is laughing, and you see exposed teeth and everything. And exposed teeth before the era of modern dentistry is somewhat of a big deal. And of course they're smiling because they're probably drunk. You can see the raised wine glass and their rosy cheeks. In contrast

you've got George Washington: famously reticent, non-smiling. I mean it's an image we all know from looking at a one-dollar bill. George is staring at us, completely not smiling. He's our first president, commander in chief. It wouldn't be appropriate for him to have a big grin. He has to project an image of gravitas and seriousness.

I think some have used the excuse, well he had these false teeth, and they were terrible and stained and he didn't want anyone to see them, because remember this was before Invisalign braces and teeth whitening. But imagine if he was smiling, your dollar bill: completely different.

This work by Seydou Keita especially spoke to me because on the one hand, the figure is posed very formally. But suddenly and most unexpectedly, she's smiling

directly out at the viewer, and it just has a way of kind of engaging you and bringing you into the picture that, if she weren't smiling, I think the work would have a completely different effect. But it's that smile that breaks down the barriers.

The smile, as trivial it may seem to some, or something that we take for granted, actually is

laden with a range of meanings that are much more nuanced

much more subtle than I had anticipated. And I've realized

you know, as a tooth-smiler, I'm violating every rule of decorum, at least through the 19th century.

I've always just been a person who's not hidden her smile. And I get teased about it or known for it.

I smile a lot, maybe too much, but that's who I am.