Statistican, born 1922; Warden, Wadham College, Oxford since 1984; Chancellor, University of Keele since 1986; Chairman, Royal Opera House, 1974-87; KCB 1973.

The Portrait Works (1989),  p. 96.

After a little to-ing and fro-ing at high and low tables it was decided by Wadham College that they would like me to paint the portrait of the Warden, Sir Claus Moser. As I dined there I could see it was to hang in good company in Wadham's Hall; the last of a long line of portraits (in both senses), most of which I noticed were set in a general portraitist's blur without much in the way of iconography.

Apart from getting on very well with each other from the first, Claus and I shared many mutual friends as well as interests. Of course I do not say that whoever likes both opera and cricket is likely to get better painted...yet...

After a couple drawings, and a small oil study that made him look rather boiled and beaky like an Australian Jewish businessman, I started on the picture proper. For many sittings Claus occupied the middle of a canvas streaked with a chaos of indecisive marks, as I dithered about his surroundings. It did not seem right to place him amongst the studio clutter which was what I actually saw as I worked. I felt that his keen involvement with Wadham should be the essential topic of the portrait, yet opera, to which our conversation so often returned, kept on asserting itself: I wanted to paint a Claus Moser that was simultaneously of the College and at the opera.

One evening, after supper at the ever hospitable Mosers, Claus brought out his most treasured possession, the first edition score of the Marriage of Figaro which had been presented to him by a group of friends when he retired as chairman of the Royal Opera House. That same night as I strolled round the college gardens I saw once again the huge beech tree that I'd admired first over thirty years ago when I used to visit Wadham from St Catherine's to see Michael Kustow. The moon was full and shone through the lattice of its old arthritic branches. It occurred to me that Figaro and the great tree were of the same vintage, more or less exactly...and...since the glories of the opera's last act inhabit a garden...garden..The Garden...Figaro...Claus. All came together at that point and thus the moon (consciously echoing a former work 21 Attempts to Draw a Freehand Circle) presides over the backdrop of an imaginary stage that has somehow sprung up behind the seated Claus.

I wanted to people this echo of the Garden Scene with the characters of Figaro and the Countess. Attempts to find pictures of the production that was done in Claus Moser's honour were unsuccessful for too long. Impatience got the better of diligence and one morning I just sat down and painted them from my head.

The Portrait Works (1989),  p. 64-66.

tomphillips.co.uk  > >  Portraits