Portraits

Ginger and Don

This portrait was commissioned by a Regent alum as a means to honour the memory of his grandfather, who was a constant source of encouragement throughout his education. The success of a portrait like this is not derived from its technical aspects as much as its capacity to evoke the spirit behind the form. That is a sacred trust to be given as an artist, and it entails an awareness that my task will not be satisfied simply by replicating in paint the photos I’ve been given—I must be as sensitive to the depths as much as the surfaces of the person in view. When it’s impossible to meet the subject myself, like in this case, it becomes all that much more important to listen well and gather a sense of this person’s interiority from those who loved him and want his memory preserved.

Mother's Day

The relationship between father and daughter is profound—and, if my own relationships with my two daughters are any indication, grows more profound over time. It’s the kind of thing that can be hard to capture. Thankfully, my patron for this painting—who gave it to his wife for Mother’s Day—requested this pose, which does a lot for exuding some kind of narrative. He also insisted on the polka-dot shirt. I’d like to think it’s the inclusion of such idiosyncratic details that, strangely, make it easier to relate to this moment and enter into it. The final composition ended up being the combination of five different settings.

Joe Arnold, Shadow

I painted this of my dad shortly after he had a major stroke. Besides other consequences, his vision was seriously impaired because the muscle controlling one of his eyes was paralyzed for over a month. So he spent a lot of time sitting with his eyes closed. I’m pretty sure he was listening to some old radio program, probably “The Shadow,” when I drew the sketch from which this painting was finished. My mom, who was trained as an artist, raised my sister and I drawing and painting. Dad was a perfect model because he could often be found sitting in a chair, much like this, but usually reading a book. So the moment here in the painting was a sad one for me, to be seeing him, knowing he wasn’t going to be reading any books for a while. Much has changed since then!