Until Gina Rinehart stole the headlines last week by complaining about that “unflattering” likeness by Vincent Namatjira, Jonathan Yeo’s His Majesty King Charles III was the only portrait that had the world talking. It’s a distinctly unorthodox kind of royal portrait. A detailed, realistic rendition of the King’s face and hands emerge from a field of crimson, as his bright red tunic merges with a turbulent red background.
King Charles III by Jonathan Yeo 2024. Credit: Getty All that red has obvious, instant associations, causing the portrait to be constantly described as “bloody” or “fiery”. Is there a subversive message buried in this canvas? At first glance I thought the palace was on fire, with Charles looking strangely pleased as he was engulfed in flames, perhaps hoping soon to be reborn, as symbolised by the butterfly hovering over his right shoulder.
Charles is no Nero, but he knows he may be presiding over the last days of an anachronism. The challenge for the royal family today is not so much to stay relevant as an institution, as to stay visible. The contemporary world is obsessed with celebrity, and celebrity is a state of extreme visibility in which substance is not a necessary ingredient.
Look at Donald Trump. He’s never off our screens, but his only subject is himself. It was, therefore, a shrewd move to have the newly crowned King Charles III painted by one of Britain’s most fashionable portraitists.
Jonathan Yeo has painted everyone from .