He’s there. The Laughing Cavalier, who sums up Frans Hals for practically everyone, has come all the way from the Wallace Collection for this splendid Hals show at the National Gallery. With his rakishness, his come-hither expression – not laughing so much as amused – and his delicious embroidered black suit, he sums up all that’s best about a painter who was once the pinup of the Impressionists, whom Van Gogh, Whistler and Courbet recognised as a kindred spirit.
It’s hard to think that in the later 19th century, critics and painters regarded Hals as one of the Big Three of the Golden Age of Dutch painting, alongside Vermeer and Rembrandt. The latter two are still venerated but Hals somehow hasn’t kept up. The exhibition catalogue speculates that it’s because portraiture isn’t our favourite genre and that Hals’ loose brush technique was to become commonplace. True.
