Drawing Forth
The art and intimacy of portraiture
Hello, my stars.
When I say the word portrait what comes to mind? (Seriously, leave a comment, I want to know.)
Stuffy paintings of dead people in big gilded frames? High school senior pictures, posed under a maple tree? An orientation of paper? Selfies? Annie Leibovitz’s cover image of John Lennon curled around Yoko?
First used in the 1500s, the word portrait comes from the French portraire, literally "trace, draw forth.” This gentle extraction — the intimacy and tactility of tracing a subject’s essence — is why I consider most of my work portraiture, even when I depict an inanimate object. I always strive to capture the right amount of individual detail without straying into full photorealism. The end goal is a work of art containing a bit of both of us, me and my subject, depicting some irreducible, fleeting truth that is somehow more true than a photo would be.
When all is said and done, art is just a series of marks. A record of a body in space in time, making mark after mark after mark, searching for something true. Even the word draw is rooted in this sensation of physical effort. You draw water from a well. You draw the curtains closed. You draw a bath. You draw a deep, cleansing breath. You draw a portrait.
Last fall, I exhibited a series of paintings at my sister’s magical little store, Thirteen Circles. There were six pieces in total, five different mushrooms plus one parasitic plant (Monotropa uniflora, commonly called “ghost pipe”). During the show opening, a patron approached me and said, “Wow! These are amazing. They look like ‘portrait mode’ photos!” I laughed and thanked them, mulling their words while I greeted other visitors.
My initial reaction was resistance. I don’t love it when my art is compared to photography. If my goal was to make a photograph, I would use a camera and print a photo. It would save me so much time and effort! But the more I sat with their comment, the more I realized that it acknowledged the portrait-like composition of my paintings. Something I had not formally considered before. Even though fungi do not have faces, I had — in a way — made portraits of them. They were unique, singular subjects with personalities and quirks.
If portraiture is rooted in tracing, then perhaps so-called blind contour drawings are the ultimate form of portrait art. This type of drawing is made by deliberately not looking at your paper. You imagine your pencil touching the curves and lines of the subject as you “blindly” pull it across the page. When you slow this process down (aim for 5 minutes at first), it feels more like a loving-kindness meditation than a drawing exercise. What is love if not attention without judgment? I recommend making blind contour drawings with a friend or as a self-portrait. You’ll be surprised how this act of close looking can bring you closer to others and yourself.
In the past, I’ve had an affinity for self-portraiture. At first, I blamed this on the pandemic isolation and the resulting lack of models (I started making art right before everything shut down). Then it shifted to a sense of responsibility, I didn’t want to make art about people I didn’t deeply know, and painting my loved ones felt too scary. I often stick with my own body and face because they are the only body and face I think I am qualified to represent. That has gradually been changing though, as I gain confidence in my skills and artistic perspective, I can collaborate with models in a way that is mutually empowering.
Maybe my fruit paintings are a way around that old discomfort. A way of representing individual “bodies” without any actual human bodies involved. Sometimes, I think these visual metaphors allow greater intimacy between the artwork and the viewer. Because we are not looking directly at another body, we can relate more closely to the work. There is no one in our way.
Luckily, I am less interested in dissecting the motivations behind my work than I am in making it. So, back to the easel I go. I have references for a few new fruit paintings lined up, and rolls of paper cut for the next two gesture drawings. Updates are coming soon, I promise.
XOXO,
Sam ✨
For whatever reason, the first image that comes to mind is Girl with a Pearl Earring!
A Permanent Record