Gainsborough was commissioned to paint many contemporary rich landowners and aspiring society folk, but could only complete one picture could at a time. He did sometimes weary of what he called "the curs'd Face Business" but it sold quickly, unlike some of his landscapes.

Why limit the audience for original portraits if copies can be circulated? Development in engraving techniques enabled copies of works by Gainsborough and many other leading artists to be printed and sold in greater numbers.

Engravers would painstakingly copy the minute details onto copper plates for the highly accurate mezzotints, or stone lithographs. The results reached a much wider audience, enhancing both the reputations of the artists and the sitters.

The 1769 engraving of the portrait of that great self-publicist actor David Garrick has him draped round a conveniently placed bust of Shakespeare in an unlikely woodland setting, beaming indulgently at an invisible audience. These days it would probably be called a photo opportunity.

Gainsborough Dupont, the painter's nephew, had learnt the trade well and had particular success copying his uncle's 1790 portraits of King George and Queen Charlotte. His engravings of their full-length colour portraits after the painter's death were highly regarded, and paid his bills for quite some time.

Not all the subjects were on the social ladder. Public taste demanded the misfits and the unusual. Owen Farrell, the Irish Dwarf, once drew crowds by holding four men sitting on his outstretched arms, but ended up as a drunken London beggar. He had sold his 3ft 9ins body to a surgeon in advance of his death, but endured the jeers and stares of the crowd shown in all their ugliness in this fine etching after the original by Gravelot.

Black George, every inch the stereotypical poacher, is hung around with dead game and accompanied by a scruffy pack of at least six dogs. George III's would-be assassin, Thomas Hadfield, Maniac, lurks, pistol ready, in the background of An Allegorical Portrait of George III. A grateful Britannia, a growling lion and four cherubs show their appreciation that said maniac was unsuccessful.

Modern celebrity culture seems to favour image over achievement - a visit to this interesting exhibition suggests that maybe the Face Business is not entirely new.