There’s a scandal going on in Washington, and, for once, it’s got something to do with art! When George W. Bush unveiled his White House portrait recently, the President’s painted likeness was just the latest in a string of overpriced official portraits.
While I was away last month, this portrait of Commissioner Randy Leonard apparently got itself into a bit of trouble. Reporting by Nick Budnick of the Portland Tribune.
It’s the only way I know how to paint, but I’d forgotten until recently that it’s the only way to live too.
The setting: Bubry, France. A village in Brittany with a population of 2500 and an open air market every second and fourth Wednesday for the last 400 years. The characters: three representatives of three generations of Breton women, each with strikingly similar noses and eyes.
I didn’t make up the term, but it makes sense to me. Traditional retail appeals to me about as much as much as making (or buying) the kind of open market art that has a factory-made, gimmicked-out feel to it.
My You Bags are just one part of how I mean to make the world a more customized--and ultimately special--place. When I say that I am “painting every person’s portrait, one face at a time,” I’m less interested in the far-reaching goal and more focused on the bit about doing it one person at a time.
As complicated as mouths are to paint, part the lips and the problem is only intensified. Teeth are best hidden if you’re unsure of how to tackle them. Nothing will make a painting look strained like a toothy mouth poorly painted.
Everything I know about patriotism, I learned in grade school making handprint turkeys in late November.
The 19th century American portraitist John Singer Sargent famously said so, and, in many ways, he was right.
Also known as a little pooch of love.
My grandfather was a master at wiggling his, but, beyond that, I’ve never seen a person reveal much about who they are with their ears. It’s not a human thing to have expressive ears: that realm of possibilities belongs to our furry friends.
I’m very attached to every painting I make, but that doesn’t mean I’m not ready to see each one make its own way in the world.
It’s a running joke in our house that I can’t ever quite capture my partner’s nose in my portraits of him. And, while there’s some truth to it, reproducing David’s nose (or, for that matter, anyone’s nose) precisely in a portrait is not that important to creating an arresting likeness.