Capturing the legacy of a governor

Massachusetts politics demands sharpened nails, but not at ceremonies like this: The unveiling of former acting governor Jane M. Swift's formal portrait yesterday was a happy occasion, meant to transcend rivalries. Speakers offered unadulterated praise, applauded warmly, focused on the positive.

Until Swift took the microphone.

''I know that many of you were attracted here by the rumors that I was finally going to hang in the State House," she said, reminding the crowd that she was acerbic and famously embattled. ''I'm sorry to disappoint you."

Instead, Swift pulled back a curtain to unveil a 40-by-50-inch oil painting that was the product of months of deliberation, modeling sessions, and $40,000 from her campaign fund. She stands against the backdrop of the baby-blue governor's office walls, wearing a dark suit and pearls, holding a sheath of Senate bills. The lines on her face look more distinct, more aged, than they did when she became acting governor at 36.

And the smile suggests that she knows exactly what she's done.

Among the many State House rituals, the gubernatorial portrait is a paean to personality; governors donate the paintings and choose the outlines of their legacies. William F. Weld, who loved to thumb his nose at institutions, posed wearing blue jeans in the woods. Michael S. Dukakis toyed with using a photograph, a money-saving gesture. (His supporters eventually raised $10,000 for an oil painting.)

Jason Kauppi, Swift's former press secretary, said she figured her portrait depicting the first female governor of Massachusetts, would be seen as a powerful symbol. It had to look both feminine and authoritative, he said.

''Jane wanted a portrait that would both capture her as a young woman, but would also be respectful of the fact that she was governor."

Swift chose artist Sarah Belchetz-Swenson of Williamsburg, known for creating portraits of women in milestone positions. The painter spent time with Swift and interviewed family, friends, and colleagues -- including former House speaker Thomas Finneran, a Democrat and sometime State House rival. Last night, the portrait was to take its place in the foyer of the governor's office, beside that of Swift's immediate predecessor, Paul Cellucci. (The portrait of Foster Furcolo, governor from 1957 to 1961, will be hung in the Senate corridor.)

But tradition dictates a ceremony, too. So Swift returned to the State House for the first time since she left office in 2003, as a couple hundred well-wishers filed into the Senate Chamber where Swift once served, for a gathering that felt a bit like a '90s State House reunion. Cellucci, who criticized Swift in a recent memoir for firing an aide after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, was all smiles. Finneran showed up tieless and grinning, praising Swift for her poise on the day of the attacks.

Public officials came from Swift's native Berkshire County; state Supreme Judicial Court Chief Justice Margaret Marshall took a seat in the front row. Governor Mitt Romney sat behind former New Jersey governor Christine Todd Whitman, who helped at stages with Swift's political career.

In a body known for glad-handing and backslapping, the proceedings were barely personal; instead of sharing anecdotes, speakers tended to focus on Swift's policy work. They recalled how Swift was known at the start of her career: as a young politician with energy and promise, fighting for education reform, a dairy compact, and state funding for North Adams's Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art.

Swift spoke the longest, and, again, refused to sugarcoat. Recalling her demeanor as ''sometimes scrappy," she added, ''the sanitized word today is 'persistence.' "

More than any other speaker, she talked about the quality that, in some ways, most defined her tenure in the corner office: maternity. She thanked Cellucci for supporting her when she wanted to marry her political ambitions with her desire to be a mother. ''Unfortunately, that is still too uncommon today in our society," she said.

For Swift, it was a tough ride. She was pregnant with her first daughter, Elizabeth, when she ran for lieutenant governor under Cellucci, scandal-beset when she asked aides to babysit. She gave birth to twins Sarah and Lauren while serving as acting governor, scandal-beset when she presided over a governor's council meeting from her hospital bed.

And when she dropped out of the governor's race in 2002 -- paving the way for Romney to ease into the Republican nomination -- she tearfully announced that when it came to politics and family, ''something had to give."

Today, outside the public arena, Swift has managed to strike a balance. She is a partner at a Boston-based venture capital firm that focuses on the for-profit education industry. She works at home from Williamstown several days a week and commutes to the office as needed, Kauppi said.

But she hasn't foreclosed on political options. She serves on the advisory board of Whitman's ''It's My Party Too PAC," which supports moderate Republicans. Her campaign fund holds nearly $400,000, according to the state Office of Campaign and Political Finance.

Swift recalled F. Scott Fitzgerald's quote about no second acts in American life and said, ''I hope I'm living proof that he was wrong." And she maintains a fervent circle of political support. When she rose to speak, she got a standing ovation.

One of the few who didn't stand was Swift's husband, Chuck Hunt. He was holding two small girls, who had fallen sound asleep.