Nicholas Jeeves of the Cambridge School of Art addresses this question well in a lengthy essay:
The Serious and the Smirk: The Smile in Portraiture.
In this sense, a portrait was never so much a record of a person, but
a formalised ideal. The ambition was not to capture a moment, but a
moral certainty. Politicians were particularly sensitive to this. For
a more modern, photographic example of the principle, we may consider
Abraham Lincoln. Here was a man better known than most, in his day,
for his sense of humour, there being a number of well-known stories
about him regularly drawing hoots of laughter from those in his
company. While there are some informal images of him looking
distinctly avuncular, a wit doesn’t abolish slavery without tough
critical opposition, and in his best-known image, the ‘Gettysburg
portrait’, he takes on the gravest expression imaginable.
For centuries many echoed the sentiments of Mark Twain:
A photograph is a most important document, and there is nothing more
damning to go down to posterity than a silly, foolish smile caught and
fixed forever.
However not all schools of formal portraiture were in agreement, as witness the Dutch painters of the 17th century:
To see the smile at its biggest and best, we have to leave the upper
classes and instead visit our attentions on those lower in the social
order. 17th century Dutch painters were fascinated with recording the
fullness of life, and deliberately sought out the smiles found within
it. Here there are almost no end of artists to choose from, and in
consequence ‘Dutchness’ in painting, and in life, was often a society
shorthand for licentiousness. Jan Steen, Franz Hals, and Judith
Leyster were all followers of this style, all painted broad smiles,
and all were said to be good company, there being no attempt at
separation between the artist, the viewer, and the subject. With the
artists as complicit as they were explicit, it was a mutual love
affair that put them firmly at the centre of contemporary life.
But the true turning point was probably in 1877:
By 1877 the photographic pioneer Eadweard Muybridge had solved the
problem of fleeting movement with his series of photographs entitled
The Horse In Motion. As we know from artists’ previous attempts to
paint running horses, the horse’s movement was impossible to capture
accurately in paint. Thanks to Muybridge’s pictures, almost overnight
all the painted horses became transformed from awkward caricature into
great galloping beasts. And before you could say ‘cheese’
photographers found themselves able to capture another fleeting thing:
the true smile.
Other links:
- Say 'Prunes' not 'Cheese': The History of Smiling in
Photographs by Michael Zhang
- "Smile!": A Polemic on Fine Art Portraiture by Stephanie Dean
- Archive body starts debate on smiling for photographs by Steven McKenzie