Queen Elizabeth dies: King Charles arrives in London

According to Finn, when fashion photographer Mario Testino saw “the lightness of being” he said, “People need to see this. It’s the most beautiful picture.” Levine said he expects the photo to be widely shared on social media after the Queen’s death.

Queen Elizabeth sat for hundreds of official portraits as Levine during the seven decades on the British throne. But how did it feel for the artists to meet her and try to create a distinctive image? We spoke to the three artists behind major portraits of the Queen to find out.

Below are edited excerpts from those conversations.

Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh and Queen Elizabeth II, 2011

Thomas Struth, photographer

I did a lot more preparation than I normally would for a family photo.

I looked at a lot of the pictures out there of her—hundreds—and I thought, “People don’t look at her as a person, as a woman.” I wanted to show the Queen and Prince Philip as an elderly couple very close to each other and very familiar with each other.

One of my requests was that I needed to choose the Queen’s dress, because I didn’t want to risk her appearing a bright yellow that would make it impossible for me to take a good picture. When she looked at other photos, many made her wear something bright, and that makes her chest the dominant sign and her face looking petite.

On that day, I felt that they were surprised that everything was so well prepared. “You can touch the queen if necessary,” said the queen’s wardrobe, and after two or three exposures she realized that the pillow behind her back was poorly lined up, so I walked over to her, moved it forward and changed position. I found that somewhat surprising.

I exposed 17 paintings and then knew I was done. I just felt like I had the picture. I had another 15 minutes left, but I gave them that as a gift – some unprogrammed time.

I later heard that when they saw the picture in the museum, they stood in front of it for a long time. It’s very large—eight feet wide, perhaps six feet high—and it’s very, very sharp. You can see all her veins. Prince Philip said, “How did he do that?”

The Queen 1998

Justin Mortimer, painter

I was commissioned shortly after Diana’s death.

I was 27, and I believe they chose me because they were eager to update the public’s view of the monarchy, as at the time they were criticized as inward-looking and irrelevant.

It was a little overwhelming in the first session. When I walked in, I immediately addressed her the wrong way!

I started taking some pictures. She had a very straight look, and never blinked her eyes, even though I was getting closer and closer with my Polaroid camera. When I pulled it off, I realized I had been shooting all these pictures in her lap, which was embarrassing, but she was, like, “Don’t worry, honey. Lord Snowden used to shoot me all the time on these.”

I only remember thinking: “I am in the presence of this human being who met all the notable personalities of the 20th century. Down the aisle, she would meet Jackie and John F. Kennedy, Churchill and Idi Amin. Everyone from heroes to criminals.”

In my studio, the only way I could get close to that was to draw them in the context of my other work at the time, and I had these figures with limbs loose and heads a bit cut off, so I basically ended up dislocating their necks. It was a little cheeky. I knew people would come up with ideas, like, “Cut her head off!” to her.

I did not enter as a republican berserk. I just wanted to point out this vein of unease with the royal family at the time.

After it came out, I had newspapers from all over the world calling me and giving me interviews, and people seemed really upset about what I had done. But the fact that it is still remembered shows that the work has a semi-symbolic status.

I don’t know what the Queen thought of him. But it is funny that I was asked to make another portrait for the royal collection of Lord Chamberlain, who was this big man of the royal family. I wonder if that gives you an idea of ​​the Queen’s sense of humor, leading me to “do business” with this fellow.

Chris Levine

I was going to make a hologram of her and I was originally thinking of making a hologram with a laser, which would involve exposing Her Majesty under a laser light. But I got nervous for health and safety reasons, because someone would say, “You’re kidding, right? You want to shoot lasers at the Queen?”

So we came up with a different approach, where we have a camera that moves along a path that takes a series of 200 still images from left to right, and then makes a 3D image from each image.

I had an idea on my mind from the start – to bypass all the noise and reduce it to some kind of substance. I wanted to make it really creative, something that would resonate.

At the time, I was really meditating and almost evangelical about it. So when the camera finished running and reset, I asked Her Majesty to breathe. I had another camera in the middle of the track, and I took the photo that became “Lightness of Being” while she was resting.

She called the first picture she drew “equilibrium”, and I think she developed the mechanism of poise and give up nothing, almost to protect herself.

I showed her the work in progress at Windsor Castle—just me, her and her corgi—and asked her how she felt about the title and she said, vaguely, “Well, things aren’t always what they seem.”

We’ve already talked about meditation, yes. She said her meditation was working gardening in Balmoral.

Whatever indifference I may have towards the Queen until the commissioning date, I felt true affection for her at the end.