The Post With Two Faces: Writing the Story I Wasn't Encouraged to Tell

The Version of the Story That’s Mine Alone

For five years, this post has been living inside me—half-formed, half-whispered, always waiting for its moment. I first tried to write it for a paper in school, when the topic aligned perfectly and I thought, this is it, this is finally my chance. But academia doesn’t always leave room for the things we desperately want to say. It doesn't leave room for independent thought, free of academic citation. If you don't have a degree, you aren't permitted to write freely. The opportunity slipped past me, the assignment shifted, and the story I wanted to tell stayed unwritten.

But it never went away.

Instead, it has followed me - through museum visits, late-night reading sessions, new ideas and growing pains. It kept nudging me, reminding me that some things are too important to wait for permission or a course syllabus.

So here I am, finally telling the story academia didn't make space for, the post I wasn't allowed to write then-but now I'm writing it for me. Not for a grade, not for a deadline, not for someone else's rubric. For the version of myself who has carried this for half a decade and is finally ready to let it out.

This isn't just another blog post. It's a return, a release, and a reclaiming of the voice I have muted for the duration of my degree. So with that, let's begin. 

Does A Portrait Have Two Faces? - Exploring Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun’s Self-Portrait with Her Daughter Julie (1789) and its Role in The Mirror Has Two Faces (1996)

     Self Portrait with Her Daughter Julie (à l'Antique), 1789, Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun            The Mirror Has Two Faces, 1996, Barbra Steisand (film still)

I. Introduction

Art and cinema both serve as powerful mediums for exploring human relationships, emotions,
and identities. Sometimes, a carefully chosen visual artwork within a film enriches the narrative
by acting as a silent witness or a symbolic mirror reflecting the characters’ inner lives, and even
the ones they portray to us, the audience, on screen. Such is the case with Élisabeth Louise Vigée
Le Brun’s Self-Portrait with Her Daughter Julie (à l'Antique), painted in 1789, featured in Barbra Streisand’s 1996 film The Mirror Has Two Faces. This essay explores how Vigée Le Brun’s intimate yet complex portrayal of motherhood resonates deeply with the complicated mother-daughter relationship between Rose (Streisand), and her mother, Hannah (Lauren Bacall) in the film. By examining the historical context and emotional undertones of the painting alongside its symbolic placement in the film, we uncover layers of meaning about familial bonds, estrangement, identity, and artistic expression. It will be in the following pages that we will discover if a portrait really does have two faces.

The Story Behind The Historic Work

 Self Portrait with Her Daughter Julie (à l'Antique), 1789, Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun   

Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun (1755- 1842) was a pioneering female artist of the late 18th
century, renowned for her portraits of European aristocracy and especially for her unique
position as a successful woman painter in an era dominated by men. Known simply as Madame
Le Brun, she made a name for herself in Ancient Régime society, serving as portrait painter to
Marie Antoinette. Creating over eight-hundred paintings, she was even received as a member of
the Académie Royale de Peinture et de sculpture, one of only fifteen women to be granted full
membership between 1648 and 1793. Her Self-Portrait with Her Daughter Julie (à l’Antique)
dated 1789, stands as both a tender homage to maternal love and an artistic statement framed by
neoclassical influences.

detail of Self Portrait with Her Daughter Julie (à l'Antique), 1789, Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun   

Visually, the painting depicts Vigée Le Brun seated with her young daughter Julie (1780-1819)
beside her. Both facing forward, their expressions are soft and composed. The references to
antiquity, evident in the classical drapery and calm poise ("à l’Antique"), suggest an idealisation
of motherhood and femininity. The composition draws the viewer’s gaze to the close physical
and emotional connection, the intertwined arms, and Julie’s subtle smile hinting at comfort and
affection. Yet beneath this harmonious façade lies a poignant contradiction.

detail of Self Portrait with Her Daughter Julie (à l'Antique), 1789, Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun 

Historically, the real relationship between Vigée Le Brun and her daughter fractured later, chiefly over Julie’s marriage to Gaëtan Bernard Nigris, which caused estrangement. In her biography, Souvenirs, Élisabeth writes of her daughter's marriage, “Being informed of what was passing, my sorrow was very great, as may well be imagined, and painful it was for me to think of giving my daughter, my only child, to a man with neither talent, fortune, nor family.” This knowledge imbues the painting with an almost melancholic feeling—a visual record capturing love and unity at a moment before inevitable distance and conflict. The portrait becomes a testament not only to the bonds of motherhood but to the fragile and mutable nature of familial relations. “In vain did I try to persuade my daughter that this marriage would not be a happy one for her under the circumstances.” 

Overview and Themes of The Mirror Has Two Faces (1996)

film poster, The Mirror Has Two Faces, 1996, Barbra Streisand

The Mirror Has Two Faces (1996), is a romantic drama directed by, produced by, and starring
Barbra Streisand. The film explores multiple themes: the transformation of self-image (the “ugly-duckling” story), unrequited love, friendship blossoming into romance, and the intricacies of mature relationships. However, the heart of the film lies in the delicate and often conflicted
connection between Rose Morgan (Streisand) and her mother, Hannah Morgan (Lauren Bacall).
Rose’s intellectually ambitious, self-deprecating character contrasts with Hannah’s elegant,
strong-willed, and outspoken presence, setting the stage for sharp emotional confrontations and
poignant reconciliation. Their mother-daughter relationship is layered with expectations,
misunderstandings, and unresolved love — capturing the universal tensions that often define
these types of relationships.

The Mirror Has Two Faces, 1996, Barbra Steisand (film still)

Significantly, this dynamic unfolds within their shared New York apartment, where a solitary,
prominent artwork adorns the living room wall: Vigée Le Brun’s Self-Portrait with Her
Daughter Julie (à l'Antique). The painting is not merely décor but a persistent, evocative presence during key interactions, notably a heated argument regarding a marriage proposal to Streisand’s character, of which her mother disapproves. The portrait, functions as a reflecting surface in the emotional battleground shared by Rose and Hannah. A third character. A silent witness.

The Painting's Role in the Film

The Mirror Has Two Faces, 1996, Barbra Steisand (film still)

The presence of Vigée Le Brun’s portrait as the only significant artwork in Rose and Hannah’s
living space must be reflected upon to understand its symbolic weight. Unlike generic portraits,
Self-Portrait with Her Daughter Julie (à l'Antique) encapsulates layered meanings relevant to their relationship. On a surface level, the painting depicts a seemingly harmonious and tender bond. Yet viewers aware of the historical backstory perceive a great deal more: the eventual estrangement clouds this idealised image, revealing the potential for rifts beneath affection.

In the film, the painting visually dominates the domestic space — a silent witness during Rose
and Hannah’s clash. Its classical poise and maternal embrace form a backdrop that both contrasts and complements the volatility of the argument. The painting’s calmness contrasts with the emotional turbulence on screen, reinforcing themes of appearances versus reluctant truths within family dynamics. The image invites the audience to consider the complexities masked by social facades and personal history.

The Mirror Has Two Faces, 1996, Barbra Steisand (film still)

The painting’s presence during this particular scene underscores the fact that few mother-
daughter relationships are purely affectionate or simple; they are fraught with complications,
misunderstandings, and occasionally, painful distance. The presence of this specific portrait,
connects the contemporary mother-daughter tensions to a much older narrative of maternal
relationships— a profound visual metaphor bridging centuries and mediums.

Artistic Intention and Symbolic Resonance

The Mirror Has Two Faces, 1996, Barbra Steisand (film still)

Barbra Streisand’s possible choice to feature Vigée Le Brun’s Self-Portrait with Her Daughter Julie (à l'Antique) in her film would mirror her profound artistic sensibility that transcends medium boundaries. Streisand’s inclusion of this painting resonates as both an homage to female artistry and an echo of her own maternal conflict. Streisand knows firsthand the experience of an estranged mother-daughter relationship. In her biography, My Name is Barbra, 2023, she writes “My mother used to say I wasn’t pretty enough to be an actress—she meant the looks, but I think she meant the dream as well.” Her mother’s lack of faith and support in her was something she had in common with Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun, whose own mother favoured her brother Étienne over herself. In her Souvenirs, she writes “I was far from having his wit and brightness, and his pretty face, for at the time I was rather plain. I had an enormous forehead, my eyes were sunk deep in my head: my nose was the only good feature in my thin, pale face. I had grown so fast that I found it hard to stand upright, and I used to bend like a reed. All these imperfections were a great trial to my mother. I always knew she had a fancy for my brother rather than for myself, for she spoilt him, and forgave him very quickly when he was naughty, whilst she was very severe with me.”

Streisand, a nuanced storyteller-recognises art's power to communicate silently and symbolically. The suggestion of this portrait’s integration in the film invites viewers to explore deeper subtext about motherhood, identity, and emotional distance. This adds a meta-artistic layer: the film itself becomes a reflection on art and artistry. Vigée Le Brun’s self-portrait is a work of personal and artistic expression, simultaneously public and private, just as Streisand’s film navigates public and private pain. The painting and film both become ways to “paint” and tell stories about women, mothers, daughters, and their complex ties. Streisand's possible choice to feature Self-Portrait with Her Daughter Julie (à l'Antique) in her film would mirror her profound artistic sensibility that transcends medium boundaries. 

Comparative Themes

The Mirror Has Two Faces, 1996, Barbra Steisand (film still)

The parallel mother-daughter relationships in both works reveal shared themes:

• Estrangement and Intimacy: Both relationships reveal tensions hiding beneath. Vigée Le
Brun and Julie’s eventual estrangement mirrors Rose and Hannah’s recurring conflicts and
difficulties achieving true intimacy.

• Appearance vs. Reality: The neoclassical composure and harmonious pose in the painting
contrast with the fractured reality that is to come. Similarly, the seemingly composed
relationship in The Mirror Has Two Faces is complicated by emotional battles and
reluctance to confront painful truths.

• Art as Emotional Mediator: The portrait acts as a silent mediator in the film, a visual symbol of the past and the layers of mother-daughter emotions. It highlights how art can embody and carry personal and emotional history, and that while some of these stories are forefront and present on a surface level, what is happening behind the scenes is only seen by a select few.

• Universality and Timelessness: Both works underline that mother-daughter relationships are complex everywhere and always — transcending time. The painting from 1789 resonates
powerfully in a modern New York apartment in 1996, emphasising continuity in emotional
experiences.

Reflection on Artistic Identity

Julie Le Brun (1780-1819) Looking in a Mirror, 1787, Èlisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun 

The exploration of mother-daughter relationships across these two works also invites a meditation on what it means to be an artist. Vigée Le Brun’s work is both a personal portrayal
and a public statement, navigating the challenges of being a woman artist in a specialised, male-
dominated world. Streisand’s film similarly arises from a multi-talented artist probing deeply
personal themes via the cinematic medium.

Their artistry rests not just in skill but in vulnerability, courage to reveal complexity, contradictions, and emotional truths.The projection of intimate familial tensions through art forms — painting and film — demonstrates the transformative power of art to explore identity, relationships, and emotional history. Furthermore, if Streisand did in fact choose this specific portrait, her decision reveals a layered awareness of artistry as dialogic — art speaking across generations, across forms, transforming private realities into shared cultural experiences. Both Vigée Le Brun and Streisand become creators telling stories about women through their chosen languages of paint and cinema.

If the Painting was Chosen...

Why might Barbra Streisand have chosen Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun’s Self-Portrait with Her Daughter Julie (à l'Antique) for The Mirror Has Two Faces? Was she reaching toward an image of the ideal mother–daughter closeness that Rose and Hannah never managed to sustain—or hinting at a tenderness that might once have existed but has long since hardened into criticism and emotional distance? And what does it mean that this painting—so warm, so physically affectionate—presides silently over their strained dynamic? These questions surface most sharply during the proposal scene, when Rose finally defends herself, and her decision. The staging suddenly becomes charged: why does Rose step directly in front of the portrait, blocking it from view? Is she shielding herself from an unreachable ideal, or refusing to let that ideal define her anymore? As she straightens, voice firm, Rose stands not beside her mother but between Hannah and the painting, as though challenging the very image of motherhood hanging behind her. The choreography practically asks us to reconsider everything: is Rose rejecting her mother, and finally claiming the authority to decide her own life, against her mother's wishes?

The Mirror Has Two Faces, 1996, Barbra Steisand (film still)

Conclusion

Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun’s Self-Portrait with Her Daughter Julie (à l'Antique) and the film The Mirror Has Two Faces form a unique intertextual conversation centred on the complexities of motherhood, identity, and artistic expression. The painting, with its tender yet charged portrayal of a mother and daughter, resonates profoundly when placed into the filmic context of Rose and Hannah’s fragile, conflicted relationship.

The painting’s presence in the film enriches the emotional texture and invites viewers to
recognise the universal and timeless tensions inherent in mother-daughter bonds. It also, possibly, highlights Barbra Streisand’s sophisticated artistic choices, bridging historic and contemporary female experiences and underscoring how art mediates our understanding of family and self.This pairing of 18th-century portrait and late 20th-century cinema illustrates the enduring power of art to reflect, challenge, and communicate the deeply human dilemmas of love, estrangement, and reconciliation across time and media. 

Ultimately though, like the film’s finale, featuring a cinematic, romantic climax, emphasised by Giacomo Puccini’s infamous Nessun Dorma, the lyrics “Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me (but my secret is hidden within me)”, we will never truly know all that these artists sought to convey in these works but I think it is safe to say that in art, and particularly, in portraits, there is more than one face being portrayed.