Happenstantially

This month I'm doing happenstantial drawings. I pick up the pencil and pad, and start drawing, whatever the happenstances.  This fellow posed for me yesterday. He couldn't get out of it.  12x9 inches, pencil on paper.  

More Like Me Than I Am

 The great Irish poet Seamus Heaney said, upon seeing a portrait of himself, "It's more like me than I am."  This might be the case of most of my self-portraits, which nevertheless continue as a useful exercise in the time of the plague.  Painting the same landscape under different circumstances, like Monet's grain stacks, can a be beneficial for the artist.  The same goes for a head or a face.  For this portrait, I took my inspiration from Bonnard's self-portraits where he seems to be looking into a bathroom mirror, though whether he actually painted them in the bathroom, is unknown.  He tended to paint from imagination most of the time.  This one I painted in front of the bathroom mirror.  12x9 inches, oil on linen.

The Better To See You With

One can use eyeglasses, not only to see with, but as a grid to assist in painting a face.  This painting is based upon the Rembrandt self-portrait in the National Gallery in London.  I've read that Rembrandt wasn't really so introspective as we might think despite all his self-portraits.  That's our modern sensibility being read back into the paintings.  Most of the self-portraits were more like a calling card, saying: "See this. I can paint portraits too.  Hire me."  8x10 inches, oil on panel.

Chameleon-Like

Not able to leave this one alone, I kept adding paint. But I'm done with it.  I based it upon the Sargent self-portrait, which only makes me appreciate Sargent even more.  Our faces are chameleon-like.  One can identify a Rembrandt self-portrait, but they are all different.

Older Brother

 A portrait of my happy-go-lucky older brother.  12x9 inches, oil on linen.

Painting The Object

So I spent the day examining the same old object with different lighting.  Barnard Dustan advises in his book on painting portraits to place the mirror and the canvas close to each other so that one has to move the object's eyes as little as possible going from one to the other. 16x12 inches, oil on panel.

Studying An Object

In his book on painting portraits, Bernard Dustan tells us not to worry about getting a likeness in a self-portrait.  "...[V]ery few self-portraits are good likenesses..."   "It doesn't matter whether you like your own face or not - you are simply an object to study."  Here I am studying an object.  12x12 inches, oil on panel.

Portraits

I'm going to pretend that this is somebody else's portrait.  Earlier this year, pre-Covid, I started to paint portraits.  The deal was: I paint your portrait and you keep the painting.  But I had to give it up until better times return.  12x12 inches, oil on panel.

Painting Blind In A Mirror

Imagine having this critic looking at all my paintings.  Actually I took off my glasses to paint it, so I was somewhat painting blind.  I'll probably keep working on this one.  14x11 inches, oil on panel.

I just finished reading Betty Edwards's new book, Drawing On The Dominant Eye.  Interesting book, but surprisingly she confuses a self-portrait done in a mirror from a portrait done by an artist looking at a sitter.  My dominant eye is my right eye, but in a mirror my right eye becomes my left eye, as you can see here.  It's more obvious in a self-portrait if the artist includes his arm and hand holding the brush.  A right-handed artist then becomes a left-handed artist.  If someone were to paint my portrait, then my right eye would appear as my right eye, and my right arm would still be my right arm.  Go look in a mirror and raise your right arm.  It will look like you are lifting your left arm.

Smiling

Someone told me to smile for my self-portrait.  I am smiling.  12x9 charcoal pencil on paper.

What I Did Today

What I did today at home.  12x9 oil on panel.

So Much For Serious Stuff

First,  I couldn't get this guy to look at me, though I know for a fact he was.  And he's been reading too much stuff on the Internet about the virus so I can't get him to smile anymore.  I kept thinking of the statue of Marshall Andre Massena that we passed every day in Nice.  Fittingly, a pigeon was always standing on top of his head. So much for serious stuff.

Whose That?

Still working on this one.  The English painter Bernard Dustan commented in his book Starting To Paint Portraits, "Remember that very few self-portraits are good likenesses, so you mustn't mind too much when you show the result to someone who says 'Whose that a portrait of?'"

Serial Self Portraitist

For this drawing I placed my nose close to the paper...er, mirror, maybe too close.  When I look at the work of serial self-portraitists, it's all recognizable, and quite variable.  I can guess why, but I'm not going to worry about it.

A Small Figure

Yesterday I looked across my studio room into a small mirror and saw a small figure looking back at me.  12x9 inches, pencil on paper.

A Malleable Head

While my wife is busy making masks, I'm showing how malleable my head is, making marks.  What is there to be afraid of?  12x9 inches, charcoal on paper.

A Natural Squinter

In yesterday's self-portrait, I didn't wear my glasses when painting.  Without them, I'm a natural squinter.  I put them back on for this charcoal drawing.  12x9 inches.

Mr. Potato Head

First, I did a drawing.  I looked like Mr. Potato Head, but then I settled down and did this painting.  Now I just look old and tired.  11x14 inches, oil on panel.

Old One

Going through my drawings, I found this self-portrait from 1974.  It's approximately 24x18, charcoal and charcoal wash.

Selfie With Paint

As a warm up for another portrait, I painted a self-portrait.  12x9 oil on panel.