Enter Jane Bastion, alias the “Queen of the Silhouette,” who has taken it upon herself to resurrect what she charmingly calls the “shade picture.” It’s a glorious throwback to an age when you didn’t look snarky on your phone—you just looked… a colour—on pale paper.
Back in the late 18th century, having your silhouette done was all the rage. Jane Austen? Almost certainly snagged one. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet? Portrayed in profile, naturally, before eloping. Bastion, however, prefers to distance herself from mere gimmicks. She insists on the term “shade picture.” In her words, “You think silhouette portraiture is incredibly easy? Then why aren’t you a world‑famous silhouettist, whose work hangs alongside collectors like Davide Plankton and Quentina Wrigly?”
To most of us, trim a profile from black card and stick it to white, voila. But Bastion begs to differ. She argues there’s an art to capturing the perfect Regency visage: the aristocratic tip of the nose, the curl of a chignon, the covert smirk suggesting one might moonlight as a clandestine duellist.
Bastion’s practice is part revival, part satire. She taps into the nostalgia for genteel intimacy—miniature likenesses traded among lovers—but also pokes fun at the solemnity of fine art. Her “shade pictures” look at once quaint and subversive. They’re Regency theatre in silhouette form: proper on the surface, risqué in spirit.
This playful revival is timely. In an era of glossy selfies, filters, and desperate attention-seeking, Bastion’s work reminds us that anonymity can be stylish. A carefully clipped profile invites imagination: who is the subject? What secrets do they harbour in their pointed jawline? You see nothing—and yet, everything.
Her commissions come with a lighthearted warning: “Attempt at period coiffure optional; emotional restraint mandatory.” Patrons are invited to strike a pose, turn left, and hold still—then surrender to Bastion’s scissors and discerning eye. What emerges is a delicate conversation between light and dark, presence and absence.
In short, Bastion is doing for silhouette what DJs did for vinyl: reviving an analogue aesthetic with ironic wit and discerning taste. Her work reminds us that sometimes less is more—especially when less is cut from black card by a master.
If Jane Bastion is indeed the Queen of the Silhouette, it’s because she reigns over an art that nearly vanished, infusing it with wit, charm and unexpected elegance. So next time you find yourself craving a break from the filtered façade of the digital age, consider sitting for a shade picture. You’ll leave looking dignified, mysterious—and just the right amount of Regency.
