A Historic Commission: Painting the Empress
In the spring of 1904, an extraordinary cultural exchange unfolded within the walls of China’s Forbidden City. American artist Katharine Carl received a unique commission: to paint the first Western-style portrait of Empress Dowager Cixi, one of the most powerful women in Chinese history. This unprecedented artistic endeavor would become a diplomatic event of great significance, culminating in the portrait’s exhibition at the 1904 Louisiana Purchase Exposition in St. Louis.
The project originated through the influence of Sarah Pike Conger, wife of the American minister to China, who had cultivated an unusual rapport with the famously reclusive empress. Cixi, then nearly 70 years old and having ruled China behind the scenes for over four decades, demonstrated surprising openness to this Western artistic tradition. Her regular visits to Carl’s studio to observe the painting’s progress revealed a genuine fascination with the process—an exceptional circumstance given the Empress’s legendary aversion to being visually documented.
The Grand Reveal: Diplomacy Through Art
April 19, 1904 marked a watershed moment in Qing court protocol. In an unprecedented breach of tradition, Cixi authorized foreign diplomatic wives—including Conger—to enter the palace and view the unfinished portrait. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs issued numerous invitations, transforming what began as an artistic project into a carefully orchestrated diplomatic occasion.
Court records describe how the foreign ladies, led by the Empress’s rarely seen daughter-in-law (the nominal Empress Longyu), marveled at Carl’s work. The portrait’s lifelike quality reportedly inspired awe among both Chinese attendants and foreign guests. Eunuchs whispered that the image seemed so vivid one might mistake it for the Empress herself—a remarkable statement considering traditional Chinese portraiture emphasized symbolic representation over realism.
The following day brought another historic first: male members of the imperial clan were permitted to view the artwork, though strict protocol required the painting be moved to an audience hall and the artist hidden behind screens. Among the viewers was a young nobleman familiar with Western photography, whom Cixi tasked with creating photographic reproductions before the original’s overseas journey.
Cultural Crossroads: Tradition Meets Modernity
The portrait’s creation and subsequent exhibitions reveal fascinating tensions between Qing tradition and emerging global diplomacy. Several aspects stand out:
1. Gender norms were temporarily relaxed, with foreign women entering palace spaces and even the typically reticent Empress Longyu hosting guests independently.
2. The court’s meticulous handling of the artwork—from custom-built sandalwood cases to a specially constructed railway—demonstrated both reverence for the imperial image and adaptation to modern transportation needs.
3. Provincial officials along the portrait’s route to Shanghai performed traditional kowtows, blending ancient protocol with modern steamship travel.
Carl’s account notes subtle resistance beneath the surface pageantry. While courtiers offered effusive praise, their carefully schooled expressions revealed little. Only later, at the St. Louis exhibition, would the artist hear unfiltered reactions—some admiring, others colored by negative Western perceptions of the “Dragon Lady.”
The American Exhibition: A Diplomatic Gamble
The portrait’s June 19, 1904 unveiling at the World’s Fair represented China’s ambitious attempt to reshape its international image. Prince Pu Lun, a modern-minded royal, oversaw the ceremony where layers of silk wrappings were ceremoniously removed before a crowd including exposition officials and curious Americans.
Contemporary reports describe a mixed reception. While some viewers appreciated the technical skill, others focused on the Empress’s stern expression, reflecting prevalent Western stereotypes. Nonetheless, the exhibition achieved its primary goal: establishing direct cultural diplomacy between China and the United States.
In an unprecedented move, Cixi later gifted the portrait to President Theodore Roosevelt—marking the first time a Chinese ruler’s likeness entered the U.S. government’s collection. The gesture acknowledged America’s growing influence while asserting China’s place on the world stage.
Legacy of an Imperial Portrait
This remarkable episode offers multiple historical insights:
1. Cultural Exchange: The project demonstrated Cixi’s pragmatic willingness to use Western art for diplomatic purposes during the late Qing Dynasty’s reform era.
2. Gender Dynamics: It provided rare opportunities for women—both foreign and imperial—to participate in official diplomacy.
3. Image Management: The portrait tour represents one of China’s earliest efforts to consciously shape its international perception through cultural means.
Today, the portrait resides in the Smithsonian’s collection, a tangible reminder of when brushstrokes and diplomacy intertwined at the dawn of the 20th century. More than an artwork, it encapsulates a pivotal moment when traditional China cautiously engaged with the modern world—one carefully arranged pigment at a time.
The story of Cixi’s portrait endures as a fascinating case study in cultural diplomacy, revealing how art can bridge civilizations even as political tensions simmer beneath the surface. Its journey from the Forbidden City to the White House mirrors the broader transformations reshaping Asia and the West during this consequential historical juncture.