LOOKING AT YOU                                                                   
                                                       A Portrait Artist’s Lament

To be a portrait artist is to look at people: I look at people; I stare – this is my confession. I have a condition which forces me to look intently at people, especially at their faces. Rest assured it is not voyeurisms, should that be your first reaction, dear reader.  I beg you, please indulge me, and allow me to divulge to you my face fixation, my addiction to the rendering of a human likeness, my affliction, and all my portrait predilections without fear of disapproval. This is my lament: I want to do a portrait of you.

In our society it is not acceptable to STARE; but, stare I do. In my defence, I know of a few my peers that do so also and a good number seem to get away with. I don’t seem to be so lucky, mind you, I generally do my very best not to let on that I am, in fact, staring at you. I stare at you – anywhere, everywhere, you and  I could meet, be it on the way to and from work in the mornings, evening, anytime, in coffee shops, stores, elevators, offices, subway trains, passing cars, you name it: I my eyes search you out and I stare at you. In conventional terms, you need not be attractive, quite to the contrary I seek not the gloss of fashion statements, in fact I am delighted and thrilled to find unique individuals who quite often do not meet the standards of contemporary beauty.

Fact of the matter is, I like people and I like to look at people (and who does not?) because all people feel like an extension of me: they are my family - my pack or herd, my blood relatives. I strive continuously, at every opportunity, to get to see them through my artist’ eyes and hands, and get to touch them with my pencil, brush, or chisel etc. Why, you ask? Perhaps, it is the need to make and leave a mark toward a personal acknowledgement of our unity; collectively tied together as a species – humanity. Our ignoble march from prehistoric times to today and onward we face the unknown of the future as a human community of one. 

Individually, unfortunately, we get isolated, lonely, out of touch with what is real as we live a life far removed from our agricultural foundations. Nobody, nothing validates us.
Our cities, housing us in millions serve to simultaneously alienate, stifle and  tear us asunder, often rendering us into non-persons, distanced from  kin, at once  divided and contained by concrete and steel walls, living behind closed doors – alone – with only glass windows and mirrors reflecting our shadow selves. We question our own existence. Forgive me, dear reader, I digress.

When I first glance your way, naturally,  I do not let on that I would like to capture your image, it would offend you, and you’d think I was a pervert of sorts, or at least a touch unstable perhaps, or if neither, then most certainly quite weird or possibly even dangerous.  Should I tap you on the shoulder and introduce myself, give you my card maybe; just maybe you might agree ‘to sit for me’. In return I could capture and create your image for today, tomorrow, and posterity. Your face, your name, your existence would be acknowledged and remembered by those you leave behind; be it in your family home, in some corporate or government ‘hall of fame – or shame’ (as the case may be).

Oh, you may well say “I can not afford this, I have no money”. This would not be a deterrent if the artist in me is so inspired that I am passionately compelled to really look at you. If you have no extra disposable funds, you need not pay me that would have to be okay too, and it is. Perhaps, I may be able to scrounge up enough resources, pencils, paints, and supports and other needed art supplies to create the image. In such a case, I would give a copy and keep the original for exhibition or to add to my artist collection.  Either way, it is in your hands, you have the control to grant me a ‘session’, the opportunity for me to hold a mirror of your present self to your future self, your family, friend, community. Only you can give permission to do a portrait of you.

On the other hand, should you wish to pay me, by granting me ‘a commission to render an image of you’, and then of course, we can add those indicators of you that you feel best describe you. Characteristics you posses and which to convey that tell of the persons you are (or have been), the station you hold (or have held) in life, your social status, your pursuits and passions can all be incorporated into the ‘final image’, should that be your choice. You pay a fee for a service.  Truth be told, the artist in me prefers the former, for without a fee, I have creative almost total licence and you will be rendered entirely the way I personally perceive you –from first inspirational glace to the moments spent. I will know you, for I will have studied you well. Grant me a few sittings and I can guarantee you that there will be few other persons who will know you so well; when the work is done we can never part as ‘strangers’ again. Hopefully, this will not scare you or offend you – it is unavoidable: sitter and artist are united in an intimate creative dance lasting a lifetime and beyond.  If I actively notice you and pick you as inspiration, consider it a complement, as it should be understood to be so.  If neither, I must resort to paid models (albeit not much, but paid to for me to look at them)  which takes care of my need to render for a time, as well as a chance to spend time with others who are similarly afflicted.

Do not misinterpret what I say, I do not wish to have everyone I see ‘sit’; for me. No, not at all, sure I notice everyone as I scan my surroundings; but, of course, I will especially noticed you if you appeared to have something special about you that first attracted and then sustained my attention - so much so that I am fascinated.  Perhaps, a wondrously shaped head, a unique nose, or exciting eyes and/or brows, maybe prominent cheek bones, with a peculiar tilt to the head, or long graceful curve of your neck, astoundingly, just maybe a combination of several factors, as well as or also a sort of blemish, or any kind of ‘out of the norm attribute’ to be striking is bound to make me catch my breath.   

You, who are so beautiful, may even consider yourself to be ugly and carry yourself with ‘low-self esteem’ ;( too bad I can not tell you how striking you are). At times I have done this, and felt like a fool even a nut case of sorts on reception of my well intentioned words…consequently, since then, I have held my council and tried not to stare in any obvious way.  I do confess, a select few individuals still manage to sustain my look , and I (forgive my rudeness) succumb to the urge and commence –STARING.  Included in the attributes, which draw me in, yes, will be your race, colour, creed, sex, gender, age,  your movement, or general bearing/carriage ( or lack thereof), and your dress – if ‘interesting in its own right or in combination with your ‘look’’. 

Unfortunately, or fortunately, – contrary to what you’ve been told, but well in line with the evidence presented to us everywhere - looks do make a difference.  One can not help but notice similarities and a difference, for this is how (something that has by now been well researched and documented medically and scientifically) one has been hard-wired: we interpret information based on sensory perception requiring data input of this nature. Since time memorial, when the fight or flight reactions meant living or dying instantaneously, it as been our way of being, of perceiving, of telling friend from foe.  So what I notice, what I see, (not what I think), does have a range of nuances as part of the whole visual impact.

However, I beg you please do not judge me to be ‘politically incorrect’, or something ‘unmentionable’ in context of the richness of the blended peoples inhabiting our fair city.  To the contrary, I live and thrive in Toronto. With one of the most diverse populations in the world, Toronto is, on the global scale a truly multicultural feast – it is its heart; a city rich in culture, life, love and opportunity.  I not only thrive I absolutely relish it, all of it; it defines ‘the essence’ of our city; a city once not so endearingly known as Hog town, and, for now,  often still ranked as such in relation to cities such as New York, London, Paris, Tokyo, Hong Kong, Buenos Aires, Sydney, etc...  I am delighted that we as citizens are trying to remedy this in many new almost radical ‘post-modern’, pro-active ways. But, I digress; suffice it to say I love all aspects of humanity, their individual parts (faces in particular) which for me are all equally fascinating!

As a matter fact, (I beg your indulgence at this personal confession) so much so, that I stay away from crowds for fear of visual over stimulation. Over stimulation, are excess visual stimulations? For instance, when in a public place, with all the noise along with the stream of faces coming ones’ way, the constant state of excitement can and often does turn into so rich a mosaic of faces; so much so an extraordinary visual experience, that the sheer joy of ‘recognition’ and ‘inspiration’ in anticipation of the execution of a portrayal ( i.e. turning into a concrete existence a persona only fleetingly perceived), that it turns into a personal nightmare of acute, disconcerting disorientation. Getting away is then the only thing to do and a retreat into my studio is a must!

You may well ask, “When did my fascination with the human form and face begin”? This is something I too have often pondered.  So far, a logical, rational answer to the question, I have not found, so the question remains unanswered…..dangling.  Yet, I know the need to know my fellow beings; to look, to contemplate, and to analyze my fellows’ faces is/has been an essential part of me - instinctive and elemental. So much so that I can well imagine what is was like to be a helpless newborn looking with vacant, colourless, for validation after the first birth breath. I can feel my new near blind eyes be pulled to toward light and shadow – much like mewling kittens – looking to connect.  Since all sensations from pre-birth onward are experiential and in this manner wired into out brains, no doubt my drive to portray has been hard-wired in mine.  Research results have proven that, though we may not be aware of past sensations and events and usually do not remember things experienced during the formative years of babyhood and early childhood e.g. prior to age six, the memories are stored in the regions of our cranium non accessible to adult logic. Try to imagine, if you will, the first time we try to put a visual face to the human being that carried, birthed and swaddled us - our mother. She whose breathing, feelings, movement one shared and whose voice one knew well before entry. From the very beginning we have felt the rush of recognition when a connection with ‘the face’ of another ‘being’ was made.

My condition, I would venture, is not unique. We all have it in varying degrees for due to it are able to form intimate and social bonds as individuals and groups. Fortunately, or not, depending on perspective and circumstance, both the desire and the need is greater in the portrait artist: it is personified.  Thankfully, my condition is not contagious.

In the portrait artist the condition : to touch your face with my mind and artist’s tools) is an addiction, and ailment in which the artist/patient is both without hope or desire for rehabilitation. In short, I have no qualms in making this statement: I confess, I am an addict: utterly fascinated and hopelessly hooked on the human face. I need to see it, feel it, analyze it, and touch it with my brush to render it, and thereby translate it into something I can know, understand, and internalize. The need is constant, consistent and unabatedly frustrating when it is not or can not be met. Sure, I am surrounded by people and even have on going face-to-face exchanges, but none are enough to satisfy me. I need a subject – someone to sit for me –or I am a bottomless pit of hunger.

It goes against the basic grain of social acceptability to ‘stare’ to let my eyes linger on say:  ‘the eyes, the nose, the bones, the lips, and every little interesting blemish in the face as a whole (…) the added glory or lack there of – the human hair..’ I am looking at you’.

 
After this lament, who knows, from now on, should you see me looking directly at you, (do become uncomfortable, be guarded; but, once you have assured yourself I could not possibly be of harm to you), you will allow me to look - STARE - just a little while…and not feel too threatened. After a while, should you decide that I may well be that portrait artist, perhaps you would look at me, tap me on the shoulder and say: “Do you have a card; would you, could you do a portrait of me?”

J. Doe Portraiture
Artist

To send feedback or new article please email to arttalk@portraitsocietyocanada.com