Portraits have always been pictures of interest to me and whatever the medium be it as photographs, sketches or paintings. And whether realist or impressionist to abstract or surrealist I find them all utterly fascinating.
I suppose for me they should all have ( or perhaps should have is more accurate ) one thing in common and that is the ability to take the viewer on a journey that goes deeper than the flat surface of the paper or canvas and into the realms of the actual persona of the subject.
The fifties
In some small way it should pull you into their world, their space. The expression, shadows, the eyes and the set of the head for eaxmple all contributing to an insight if you will of the true or real person that lies beneath.
It should be in my opinion a sort of journey and indeed some people have a face that has a personal lifetime etched upon and within it like an amazing road map of their lives. The twists and turns the ups and downs, the triumphs and despair, the happiness and tragedy. Others less so the live almost hidden away under a veneer of “just a face” bland perhaps anonymous even. But the signs are always there, however hidden or indistinct and where the artist certainly more than the photographer perhaps picks up the scent of these faint trails – and if we the viewer can see but a hint of this trip, then it is a portrait worthy of respect as it is just perhaps something of great wonder and precious – a glimpse of the soul.
