Portrait Case Study 1

I have collected some case studies of recent portrait paintings, detailing the decisions that had to be made in planning each painting. I hope they might be useful to anyone thinking about having their own portrait painted.

Portrait Case Study 1. The Blue Dress

Size and pose: This is quite a large portrait, at over 100cm tall. Given that we quickly agreed on a large canvas, it was then a choice of choosing between a full length or 3/4 length pose. We worked through a variety of standing and seated poses, finally agreeing that this seated position looked best. We paid great attention to the placement of the hands – trying to avoid them looking awkward, while also looking interesting in the final painting. Apart from adding greater visual impact, this size canvas does allow for working in greater detail on the whole figure and on the clothing.
Style and clothing: We were limited by the chosen date for the sitting being a blazingly hot summers day, so a loose summer dress seemed the most comfortable option. It wasn’t the first dress pulled from her wardrobe. We considered quite a few options, and in the end agreed that this dress looked nice on her and would add some interest to the painting.
Setting: Ordinarily I liked to have sitters pose in their home environment. Apart from being more comfortable, the decoration and furnishing of a room often says something about the sitter. In this particular case the sitter had just sold their old home and was staying in rented accommodation, awaiting a move to their new home. So this bland Airbnb flat certainly didn’t say much about the sitter, but it was a suitably bright and blank backdrop. I chose to include some of the fire surround just to add some visual interest, and to help set the sitter in space.
Props: The items in the background (shoes, book, flowers) were added later, and weren’t part of the original brief. As I worked on the painting, I felt that there was a lot of dead space in the background that wasn’t doing anything. I also was not fully aware during the sitting what a pivotal time this was in the sitter’s life, and I felt I should include something (spring bulbs) to suggest the fresh start the sitter was experiencing. The boots and book are indicative of her great interests. I could have thrown in lots more, but I did not want the props to distract from the figure.

If you have any questions about commissioning your own portrait, please don’t hesitate to get in touch with me. My email is on the Contact page

Portrait Case Study 2. Renaissance Garden

This is not actually a commission, but was painted as a portfolio piece – a painting that I could show to prospective customers and take along to art fares. In the event, it was snapped up by a collector shortly after I finished it, so now I only have the photos to share with you

Canvas Size: I chose a 50cm x 40cm linen canvas for this painting before I even started. It’s quite common to start a commission with a decision about the canvas size. It might be to fit in with your budget (larger paintings will incur more costs), but more often it’s because most people have limited space to display artwork.
This particular linen has a very nice surface for portraits; although the weave is still visible, it’s less intrusive than cotton canvas. The smoother surface allows for more detailed work.
Pose: I worked through quite a few different poses with the sitter. She had a wonderful calm demeanour about her, which I wanted to capture in this painting. Having already decided on the canvas size, I was limited in my selection of poses. A full body pose would have meant her face would have been quite small on the canvas. I find this size ideal for a head and shoulders portrait, being large enough that I can introduce quite a lot of detail in the face. We went through different poses with arms crossed, or the model sitting. In the end I chose this standing pose. The model had such excellent posture, and that wonderful poise, that I wanted to try and capture it with the simplest of poses.
Style and clothing: I asked the model to select her own clothing, giving consideration to how she wanted to be portrayed. She arrived wearing a colourful headscarf and loose knit jumper, which suited her well. The jumper provided a nice contrast in textures, which worked well in the finished painting.
Background: I initially planned this portrait with just a plain background, but I quickly realised there was a timeless quality about this model, which got me thinking about Renaissance portraits; where they might sometimes introduce a section of landscape in one of the top corners. This was a useful device to add depth and perspective to the composition, while also adding colour and visual interest to the painting. I was more interested in the latter, and how a serene vista would complement the model’s calm manner. I also wanted to demonstrate how alternative backgrounds can be easily introduced into a commissioned portrait.
Props: No need for props with this portrait. The smaller canvas didn’t lend itself to being cluttered with objects. With similar commissions of this size the sitter has asked that they be painted wearing a particular piece of jewellery, which was of sentimental value.

progree photos of portrait painting — Progress photos, showing the monochrome underpainting.

Painting technique – Glazes and underpainting

The photo above shows the painting at three different stages. I had already worked out the composition on paper, with preparatory drawings. The underpainting is painted with a monochrome or very restricted palette. Once I was happy the tonal values were correct, I introduced colour into my palette. The final photo above shows the painting just before I add the colour glazes. It’s a traditional technique can add a wonderful luminosity to the highlights, and a depth of colour to the shadows that simply cannot be achieved with other techniques.

I have written a blog post about my use of glazes. You can find it here: Glazes and Underpainting

Portrait Case Study 3. The Dancer

This was a challenging commission. It taught me a lot about ballet, and also about specific problems in painting “action” poses. I was approached by a ballet teacher who wanted a portrait of herself in a recognisable dance pose. Being a lifelong admirer of Degas’ wonderful paintings of ballet dancers (here’s an example at the Met), it was a commission I couldn’t refuse.
I was concerned that my studio would not be big enough. Although fine for portraits, I felt it might feel cramped if she started throwing her arms and legs around. Despite my suggestion to have the sitting at her dance studio, she preferred to come to my studio.

Problems holding a pose.

The first problem I encountered was that it proved difficult to hold any dance pose long enough for me to produce a useful drawing. Gestural charcoal sketches were okay, but the more detailed drawings I like to produce were not possible, and the sitting became quite a challenge for the both of us. I can see why Degas favoured pastels.
As soon as I had enough sketches, I suggested my client should run through her repertoire of ballet poses, and I would start taking photos. She looked through the photos every now and again, and we would adjust the poses accordingly.
Apart from the different poses, we also tried different outfits. In the beginning the tutu was my least favourite outfit and I couldn’t see it making it to the final painting. By the end of the sitting we had lots of photos of various ballet poses carried out in three different outfits. My client checked through them, pointing out any where the pose was not up to standard, and then I undertook to work up some sketches from the remaining photos, offering some alternative layouts.

A choice between two poses and outfits

I couldn’t find the original sketches, but did manage to find photos of these later oil sketches. We had already eliminated alternative poses, and I offered my client two slight variations of this pose. Although I hadn’t been keen on the tutu at first, by this stage I felt it looked the better outfit, and made for a more balanced composition. Also the pose on the left looks that little bit more dynamic.

What did I learn? Ballet instructors are very demanding about their dance positions being spot on. I got into trouble with some wonky arms in my first sketches. Second, although I’m very happy with how the painting turned out, I still feel that it would have added extra visual interest if it was set in a dance studio. Finally, if I’m presented with a similar dance challenge in future, I would forgo my usual preparatory sketches, and would instead video the sitting while taking photos. I think that would be a more useful record than my charcoal sketches. I have started to use video even with my traditional portrait paintings (especially when the sitter can’t pose in person), as it can sometimes give a better sense of what the sitter really looks like.

If this article has given you the inspiration to commission your own painting, don’t hesitate to get in touch with me – use the email address on my Contact Page.

25/05/202317/09/2023

Learning from Rembrandt

A recent visit to the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam compelled me to rework an old painting. It was the Rembrandts that did it.
I painted my self-portrait “Halo” during a particularly difficult time in my life. I had become the carer for my terminally ill partner. People praised me for my fortitude, but I was aware of a disparity between how people saw me and how I truly felt. Deep down there was an awful darkness; a sense of despair. I tried to recreate this sense in a painting, but wasn’t completely successful.

detail from the painting halo — detail from reworked painting

Anyway, fast forward to March this year, and I had a splendid time visiting Amsterdam and studying the Rembrandts at the Rijksmuseum. Although there’s a very good selection of Rembrandts to be seen in London, I was captivated by the examples in Amsterdam – some really fine late Rembrandts. I could stare at them for hours. I marvel at the detail he could suggest in the shadows, with such economy. And there was such a sadness in those eyes.
In looking at these wonderful paintings by the great master of portraiture, I felt a desire to revisit one of my earlier self-portraits: “Halo”.

I didn’t undertake many changes. Basically I added a few more layers of glaze, but this time I was a bit looser in the application and removal. It is easy to fall into the trap of becoming too precious when applying glazes. It’s the final stage, and the underpainting might have taken many hours to complete, so there’s an obvious reluctance to mess it up with a sloppy final layers. But looking at those old Rembrandts, what struck me is the spontaneity of the most beautiful passages in his paintings. He wasn’t afraid of messing them up.

17/11/202214/10/2025

The Gleaners, after Millet

The Painting That Fought Back: A Year-Long Journey to Create ‘The Gleaners’

Some paintings arrive easily, flowing from brush to canvas. This was not one of them. “The Gleaners” took over a year to complete, a journey of false starts, creative blocks, and one crucial breakthrough that transformed the entire piece. It’s a painting about social exclusion, but its creation taught me a lesson about collaboration.

Like many creative projects, it began with a collision of ideas. I wanted to create a contemporary version of Jean-François Millet’s famous painting, “The Gleaners,” to say something about modern inequality. The spark for my figures, however, came from a far stranger place: a still from the 1978 film “The Shout,” where actress Susannah York scurries across the floor like a primeval creature.

The unsettling, crawling pose felt right. It captured the desperate, overlooked nature of my subjects. I sketched it out, transferred it to canvas, and began to paint.

Early progress was good, but then I hit a wall. For months, the painting languished. I tweaked the composition, changed the colours, and in a moment of near-desperation, even added a SpaceX Starship launching in the background of a desolate wasteland. But nothing worked. The core of the painting—the foreground figures—felt lifeless and wrong. I couldn’t connect with them, and the entire project stalled.

Original sketch and first underpainting on canvas

The Breakthrough: A Secret Hidden in a Gainsborough

Just when I was ready to give up, a TV documentary changed everything. It was Waldemar Januszczak’s “The Art Mysteries,” exploring Thomas Gainsborough’s “Mr and Mrs Andrews.” Januszczak revealed how the painting subtly references the Enclosure Acts, which fenced off common land and pushed rural people into poverty.

You can watch it on YouTube here.

The Incredible Story Behind Mr and Mrs Andrews (Waldemar Januszczak Documentary)

It was a lightbulb moment. Gainsborough’s composition, with its stark division between the landed gentry and their vast, controlled landscape, gave me the perfect stage for my own story of exclusion. I could fence off the lush green fields and bring the desolate wasteland right to the foreground, trapping my figures within it.

The background was solved. But the central problem remained.

The Final Piece: A Model’s Haunting Gaze

I finally admitted I couldn’t do it alone. My initial vision of emaciated, crawling figures wasn’t translating. I needed a real person.

I put out a call for a life model and found someone perfect for the project. From our first session, everything changed. Working with a real person, collaborating and responding to her presence, breathed life into the work.

We abandoned the original crawling pose. Instead, she offered something far more powerful: a haunting, direct, backward stare.

That stare became the new focal point of the painting. It was defiant, accusatory, and deeply human. The painting was no longer just my idea; it was a collaboration. The final weeks were a joy, and I finished just in time for its debut at the Cluster Contemporary Art Fair.

When I exhibited the painting, I watched as people were drawn in, not by the landscape or the concept, but by the arresting gaze of the foreground figure. It was a detail I had never planned, a gift born from collaboration. It’s a powerful reminder that when you put your easel in front of another person, the art you create is a conversation, not a monologue. And often, the result is something better than you could have imagined alone.

artist and model standing in front of the painting the gleaners — The artist and the model

15/11/202210/10/2023

An awkward conversation about my Ukraine War painting.

I had a difficult conversation about this painting at the recent Cluster Contemporary Art Fair. A Ukrainian woman approached me and asked me to explain it. I don’t think she was happy with what I said.
First, I should make clear that I see only one aggressor in this war in Ukraine, and I admire the dignity and bravery of the Ukrainian people. But that is not what this painting is about.

details from Men Wrestling with Putin naked and Macron and Boris Johnson — details from Men Wrestling

Clearly I was mocking Putin, naked on his golden throne with rickety wooden legs. And having Macron with Boris Johnson wearing theatrical costumes is obviously questioning their motivation for their actions on the world stage. Biden cheering on from a distance is a comment on the US’s stance in this war.
No, what puzzled this woman was the relevance of the naked men wrestling.

Many visitors who saw this painting at Cluster Contemporary spotted the reference to old photos of wrestlers by Eadweard Muybridge, and also to Francis Bacon’s Two Figures, which had used the Muybridge photos as a reference.

two figure by francis bacon, wrestlers by Eadweard Muybridge — Two Figures by Francis Bacon, Two Men Wrestling by Eadweard Muybridge

This is not a noble painting about Ukrainian heroism. Instead it is a grubby little story about you and me: it’s about everyone cheering their chosen sides from the safety of their living room; it is about how a primal conflict to the death by two warring races has become an exciting spectacle for the rest of the world; it is about my shame in feeling any excitement at missiles raining down on Russian tanks and troops; it is about my sadness over what we have become.

10/11/202227/09/2023

Cluster Contemporary Art Fair

Will people understand my paintings?

I showed three recent paintings at the Cluster Contemporary Art Fair, held in the wonderful Oxo Tower Wharf on London’s South Bank. Thanks to everyone who visited, and sorry if I didn’t have time to speak to all of you.
I was eager to show these paintings together; I wanted to gauge people’s reactions. When you work alone in your studio for months on end, it’s easy to start having nagging doubts: “Will they understand my paintings?” …or most commonly “WTF am I doing?”
I’m not too bothered if people don’t understand these works, as long as they engage with them, and actually take the time to look at them. That’s all I can hope for.

“Surreal. The artist is on drugs”

Well, they certainly provoked a strong reaction, and mainly favourable. There were a few disparaging remarks, like “the artist must be on drugs” 🙂 Most of the visitors I spoke to were genuinely interested in the art on show, and I found it one of the most interesting events that I have taken part in.
I took part in this event as I wanted to put my recent work in front of a real audience. Social media is okay for sharing updates, but there really is no substitute for real people looking at the actual paintings.

The artist and the model

It was a nice surprise having the model with whom I worked on the painting “The Gleaners” turn up to see the show. I have mentioned in a previous post how I was at an impasse with that particular painting, unable to resolve some difficulties. And then I found Catarina, who was fascinated in the project from the start. There is something special about working with a good life-model, with whom you have an understanding. There is an exchange of ideas, and very quickly I had a solution for my problem painting. What I love about this type of collaboration is that the solution is not something that I could have imagined by myself – it was a product of the exercise of working with a model, working through different poses.

This was the inaugural Cluster Contemporary Art Fair. There were certainly some teething problems, mainly related to their website and QR codes not working.
The show looked good, was nicely curated, and they attracted a reasonable crowd. Turn out was better than similar events I have attended at the same venue, and the visitors were genuinely interested in art, and weren’t just popping in to keep out of the rain.

cluster-london.com

Catarina’s website can be found here: moonchild777.com