I came across a link to a discussion of portraiture by writers and artists Michael Crummey, Mary Pratt, Craig Francis and Peter Wilkins via the Art in Newfoundland blog that I was eager to hear as it will likely be sometime before I have a chance to attend any art lectures in person.

Portrait painting has ranked fairly low in the hierarchy of art, but ever since I can remember I’ve been drawn to interesting faces. After all, the first things that hold fascination for babies are the faces in front of them.

Michael spoke about how the viewer helps to paint the portrait, but today the way we view things is filtered in increasingly political ways. Artists are aware and influenced by this. When a painter picks up a brush there are questions of sexual politics, the gaze, and cultural voice appropriation — emotional and psychological baggage that is hard to ignore. Thus, how clear sighted can we be? One of my earliest oil paintings was a self portrait as a black woman based on Marie Benoit’s portrait of a black woman: it raised a few eyebrows with regards to political correctness, but for me it was very much a self portrait on many levels. The artist and the viewer may glean different meanings or perspectives from the work, all because of the way that individuals see through different eyes.

Portraiture is often driven behind the scenes by commissions, and commissions did help pay my way through school, but at one point I was reduced to tears by one doctor’s wife who, after I’d spent a month working on her portrait in a tiny ill-ventilated basement, was not happy with my work and decided that she didn’t want it. She said I made her look “puffy.” After that I only painted the things I wanted to. Even as a generally shy person I’d find myself asking people, some of whom were perfect strangers, to pose for me because I found they had a presence I felt compelled to paint. I also continue to do self portraits and revel in that freedom. And then, I like to do portraits of my sister because of her spirit and presence, and because in some way it feels closer to painting a self portrait.

In essence, the joy of portraiture is about experiencing a painting from the inside out. We do not have to avert our eyes passing by this person on the street — we are invited to sit and stare and wonder. Michael also talks about how we can never fully experience being inside the mind of a painted subject the way you can with a character in a well-written book, but I think that, as with a poem, we enjoy the ambiguity of meaning and the complexity of thought this brings. There is a reason why Vermeer’s “Girl with a Pearl Earring” has captured the world’s attention for so very long, and inspired any number of award-winning plays, novels, paintings and, now, a movie. It is about more than a beautiful model and sexual politics. There is enigma in her gaze. There is an inherent connection with the viewer.

Self-Portrait by Frida Kahlo, 1940, Oil on canvas

With self-portraiture there is often the question of narcissism, but I believe that such paintings become a kind of art therapy, whether good or bad, a way to wrestle with issues of identity and exorcise personal demons. I think this quote on a Frida Kahlo website says much:

Lots of people have defined Frida’s mania for self-portraits (about 1/3 of her works) as a sort of therapy to survive, an alienation of suffering and physical pain from herself, a kind of repression of the ravaging action inflicted by external events on her body (bus accident, abortions, surgery operations and “weird” medical treatments of her age).

If anyone one knows of any other art podcasts on line I’d love to hear about them.

More on this later….

This morning I was delighted to wake up and hear that one of my favourite poets and people, Agnes Walsh, had been named the first Poet Laureate of the city of St. John’s, Newfoundland. The last time I had a chance to talk to Agnes –a very multi-talented person– she made a remark about not being comfortable with any one label, whether that was as poet, writer, or performer. But I have a feeling she has to be happy (if not yet comfortable) with this latest title.

I treasure my little first-edition copy of her first book In the Old Country of My Heart for two reasons: her words resonate with me; and I was honored with having one of my paintings placed on the cover.

“All angels… “, Oil on Canvas; © Jennifer Pohl

She once told me that she stood in the gallery with a glass of red wine, in front of this portrait of an angel, and experienced the feeling of falling in love. This is perhaps one of the nicest compliments any of my paintings has ever received. Strangely enough, I experience the same feelings whenever I take a moment for myself and revisit any of her poems.

Above, you will see the painting in its original form, currently owned by the Government of Newfoundland and Labrador. The text, which was removed for the book cover, reads “But, he said, ‘ you do know, don’t you, that all angels are men?” (But that’s another story.)

You can hear a sample of Anges’ work and read other reviews here. I must admit, I really love the new cover for the audio version of the book.

Portrait by Koo Shadler, Egg Tempera Blood Root by Gale Bunting, Egg Tempera

If you’ve been following along you may have read that I’ve begun working in egg tempera, something I started thinking about before the birth of my son, Conor, a little over a year ago. My decisons to put my work in oil on hold and explore egg tempera were mainly for health reasons, but as I find my way, I’ve become smitten with the possibilites.

It is more archival than oil paint, and the colours will stay true and bright for centuries, but it can be a difficult, slow and frustrating medium. It didn’t take long to understand why it is generally not recommended for beginners, but when I see the quality of light in the work of artists like Koo Shadler and Gail Bunting I have all the inspiration I need to continue. Done badly, egg tempera paintings can be… uhm, boring, but when it is done well, there is a light and luminosity unlike any that can be found in other media. I have a huge learning curve ahead of me, but it’s one that excites and energizes me despite all sleep deprivation. A small book by Daniel V. Thompson, The Practice of Egg Tempera (1936) is proving invaluable. I would also love to add Cennini’s fifteenth century handbook Il Libro dell’ Arte to my reference library, but if –like me– you are saving up for art supplies and have a family to feed, there is also an online version.

Now if only I could transport myself to a museum and see a Botticelli in the flesh today, but that kind of inspiration will have to wait….

I just wanted to say a special thank you to everyone for their comments. That kind of positive energy from some very talented people has been very motivating to me, especially when most days the only way I can meet the combined needs of my work, health and family is by being slightly sleep deprived. I wanted to especially thank Avaris, because her link (and blog) led me to theanimalrescuesite.com. I used to visit the affiliated hunger site to place my little click each day, but as life got busy I somehow forgot, so I’m grateful for the reminder. The animal rescue site is new to me. They also now have a downloadable and colourful toolbar for Internet Explorer, but as I am using Firefox on the Mac, I have created a set of bookmarks on my own toolbar: it will be my daily gentle reminder. There is also something to be said for the energy, sense of well-being and expansion that comes from giving. It is stepping outside of the “scarcity mentality,” or as my grandmother always said, “What you give, you get back seven-fold.” The nice thing about this site is that even if you are a starving artist (and they say the average working artist in Canada lives 25 percent below the poverty line), you can make a contribution. If you have barely a moment to spare, let it be for a mouse click. The more people that click on those buttons, the better the chances of ending world hunger, combatting breast cancer, promoting literacy, saving the rainforests, or providing health services for children around the world. Not bad for a day’s work, wouldn’t you say?