Up Close From a Distance

"Loneliness is the poverty of the self; solitude is the richness of the self."

— May Sarton, American Belgian poet

Michaela: Sun-kissed and Windswept

30" x 40" | Oil on Belgian Linen

A series in which I juxtaposed my art against the pandemic's disheartening impact on day to day life. As social distancing and isolation essentially confined me to my home and my art studio, I used my art to recapture a sense of connection with people outside my household and to address the distress and melancholy I felt from isolation. The models are individuals whose faces and emotions I know well--friends, children of friends and family. To show faces and emotions " up close and personal" I have used large canvases. As a result, the paintings are best viewed from several steps away. Thus the title:

Up Close From A Distance

I have known Liza since she was a teenager – inquisitive, talkative, and in the habit of speaking her mind. She was full of energy and ideas, and with that energy she often bounced from topic to topic in a conversation and from place to place within a room.

Once, I did a charcoal sketch of the teenage Liza and wanted also to paint her portrait. She was, however, was too full of adolescent energy to model for a painting in oil.

Liza has become a young woman – extremely intelligent, strong, and well-grounded; quite serious when circumstances warrant; yet still full of enthusiasm and love of life. She has also become an excellent model. Her depth of character influences her poses, and from her poses
I always find interesting, exciting, and unusual takes on life.

This portrait shows Liza in a contemplative mood, perhaps in a serious conversation about a serious subject. At any moment, however, she may change the mood entirely – relieving tension by finding humor, laughing whole-heartedly, and perhaps even giving a wink.

I met this model about 10 years ago, while I was a student at The Atelier School of Fine Arts in Minneapolis and serving a two-year stint as model coordinator. She walked into the interview, and I said, “You’re hired.”

I have since painted her 8-10 times, and with strength being the common denominator. In one painting, for instance, she confronts a roaring lion – on equal terms – both she and the lion ferocious and fearless. In this portrait, her image encases a combination of force, focus, and beauty that is almost overwhelming.

Liza is the daughter of close friends. I have known the family for 15 years or more and have used Liza as model first as a teenager, then as a college student, and now as a young scientist.

Liza is an intelligent, strong-minded young woman who believes, with optimism and without hate, that the world can be a better place and that she has a part in helping make it so. A rarity in our times, she likes to debate thoughts, opinions, occurrences seeking to learn and inform, without rancor or disdain.

Lisa’s physical beauty is evident. It is my hope that, in this portrait, her inner beauty and inner strength are visible as well.

My daughter is one of my favorite models. I was taken by the ambiguous look in her eyes, suggesting but not further identifying an emotion involving doubt. With regard to artistic values, I was taken by the contrast of the paisley background – intricate, multichromatic in dulled hues – with the lustrous color of the model’s hair.

My daughter and I are very closely bonded, though distant geographically. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband (and Asha, their dog), so in person connection is far from regular. Then – Covid, for months completely shutting down any chance to fly in for a visit. Zoom is a remarkable and timely invention but is no substitute for a hug. I have missed my daughter daily and viscerally. Painting her portrait -- up close -- brought me close to her, if only in my mind, and gave me some solace.

This young woman passed away more than 10 years ago, while still in college, in a cycling accident. At the time, the loss was almost unbearable to her family and her friends

Last year, Audrey’s sister posted this remembrance:

It's been ten years since my sister died in a cycling accident. She was brilliant (in every sense of the word), wonderfully weird, witty, kind, generous and had the most infectious laugh I've ever heard. She loved to tell jokes and then laugh before you had enough time to get them, so really you were just laughing because it was impossible not to laugh with her.

It seems to me that, at the time of the accident, Audrey was just coming into her own; rebellious yet caring, discovering her love of color, art, music, love and laughter. A life with such promising, vital and unique beginnings … interrupted and unfinished.

This is my portrait of the bold, brilliant, and beautiful Audrey, with the painting purposely and permanently left unfinished.

My friend found an old photograph of himself taken 75 years ago as a young army recruit who survived World War II. To get into the army, which was still segregated, the young man lied about his age. (He was only 14.) In the photo and the painting, he seems not yet completely in synch with being a soldier.

The young man was honorably discharged in 1947 and, in his words, he “return[ed] to Evansville, Indiana, went back to Lincoln High School, and played football. The schools were segregated in those days …”

Eventually, the young man became a minister, with powerful insights and almost unbounded compassion. He has spent 65 years in the ministry, preached from many pulpits, been paster to many churches, including 14 years as a pastor in the African Methodist Episcopal Church in Minneapolis and St. Paul. He has served as chaplain to a state department of corrections and also to a professional basketball team.

Also during the past 75 years, the once young man has become a husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather, foster parent, religious leader, counselor, author, and in his words, “emissary for G-d.” At the age of 92 continues to study and expound the Bible, praise G-d, and exemplify loving kindness. He has been a close family friend for more than 25 years.

Philosopher, Social Theorist, Patent Lawyer. Loving husband and father, steadfast friend to many. A very close, longstanding friend of both my husband and me.

Émigré from Russia to Israel and from Israel to the U.S. An intellectual and a mensch, ordinarily very open with his thoughts and opinions.

Thus my fascination with this enigmatic expression.

This is a portrait of an adorable and adored baby girl; the painting’s title comes from a remark once made by her mother. The baby girl is the great grandchild of a very close friend.

This is also a portrait of joy transcending sadness. This baby’s mother [not shown] lost her own mother while still a teenager. With the help, love and guidance of her extended family, the teenager grew into a strong and determined young woman. And she is the supremely loving mother of her two children. Despite the teenager’s terrible loss, the young woman has the capacity to enfold her children in love. And so she does.

I painted this portrait of mother and child to depict the great strength of a single mother, who wasn’t sure her family would support her choice to raise a child on her own. The reality was quite the contrary. I offer the painting as a testament to the beauty of a mother’s love and a family’s commitment to embrace their daughter’s choice.

(I have known the mother since she was a teenager. Some years ago, I drew her in charcoal as a gift to her mother, who is a very close friend.)

Just moments after the birth, the first direct touch of father and daughter. She is gripping his finger, bespeaking a connection that every parent cherishes.

No matter that the father-daughter bond is ubiquitous. This one, like every other one, is unique.

(The daughter is my godchild. She was born just about one year before Covid hit, and we have only recently resumed getting together in person rather than by Zoom.)

The model for this portrait is a close friend, whom I have known since she was a law student. She is a woman of intelligence, integrity, courage, and love. As much as anyone I know, she has reconstructed her life to suit her ethics and her sources of joy.

She has explained one part of the change in the following words:

I have a tattoo on my right wrist that reads “maybe you're wrong.” As I entered adulthood, I did so brazenly: I was bold, unapologetic, and hubristic, having convinced myself that my instincts would bring me success where others found failure. Though I admire aspects of my younger self, life experience, and its trial by fire, it brought me one of my hardest-earned gifts: the humility to realize that I was not always right; that I was just as fallible a human being as everyone else. My name, Karise, means, in part, "grace" and I've chosen to use this gift of humility to actualize my name, to embrace grace – grace with myself and grace with others. Every now and again, I look to my wrist to remember just that.

From almost the beginning of the pandemic, Covid has revealed to us the depth, virulence, and violence of anti-AAPI bigotry. This hate should distress and motivate all of us, directly and urgently. In addition for me, it is personal. Andrew is my son-in-law.

I painted this portrait about a year into Covid, with love, respect, and also some fear. I have hung the painting in a special place. When I walk into my studio, Andrew Intrepid is the first image I see.

*Asian American Pacific Islander

Esther, who lives in Panama, is a close friend of my daughter, who worked in Panama City for a year. This painting recalls one of several evenings I spent with my daughter and Esther during a visit I made that year to Panama City.

In both movement and speech, Esther is always graceful. The context does not matter. Whether in an upscale restaurant or walking down a run-of-the-mill street, she is, without effort or ego, a beautiful presence.

A queen of the desert: her exuberant and powerful presence illuminated by a vivid color contrast – the flaming red of the model’s gown, the soft yellows, browns, white of the desert sand, and the deep brown and ochre of the model’s beautiful face.

The woman in this painting is the granddaughter of two very close friends of mine. Despite appearances, she is not actually royalty, although the setting and the gown are true to life. The painting shows her in Dubai, in the midst of an excursion that allowed her to imagine herself in a place, station in life, and even a moment in time fantastically different from her ordinary walk of life.

There is a back story. The model’s actual walk of life is extraordinary in its own right. She is an underwriter with a brokerage company and also head of a household, mother of three children, and a loving and supportive constant in the life of her grandfather, who just recently relocated near her. Withal, she still looks as young and vibrant as shown in the painting.

A newborn baby girl, with a pink blanket, asleep on her mother. (Her mother loves pink.) I have known the parents for more than 15 years, since before they married.

I made my first visit to mother and daughter just hours after the birth. I was deeply moved by the already powerful mother-daughter bond.

Audrey took a black and white photograph of herself and submitted it as her senior year picture for her high school yearbook. The rather staid clothing and the absence of color perhaps reflected Audrey’s lack of comfort with her sense of self. She had a teenager’s “ordinary” self-doubt and sense of alienation, plus she had additional feelings and questions as a transracial adoptee.

But her photograph and this portrait display only one part of her. She also had a sunniness of character, and she brought light and color to other people. She had a buoyant laugh; she loved cats; she was an artist and found pride and pleasure in that work.

Moreover, she cared for people. Her inner struggles allowed her great empathy for friends experiencing angst and alienation. She knew how to listen, and she was unfailingly supportive and optimistic. She was an exceptional person to have as a daughter and sister to her family, or as a friend.

I first did a portrait of Michaela while I was still a student at the Atelier School of Fine Arts. She was an excellent model and contributed her own ideas to the composition.

I hope this portrait conveys a sense of a beautiful young woman’s joy. She was walking along a beach, next to her beloved, the man she was soon to marry.

On a rare visit during Covid to the home of friends with young children, I saw on the kitchen wall a striking photograph of a young mother expecting her second child. The photograph was a technical tour de force, as the “model” was simultaneously director and crew.

A talented, professional makeup artist, she designed and did the makeup, designed and did the hair, determined the pose, conceptualized and set the lighting, and created the set as well. She was also simultaneously “model” and photographer for dozens of takes – camera set on its tripod; camera with its timer set. For each take: the photographer re-checks field of vision, focal length, f-stop, etc.; the model then runs back to the set – hair and blanket flying – yet able to settle into a pose of calm, grace, and elegance before the timer snaps the picture.

That photograph, and its model, crew, photographer – inspired and guided this oil portrait of a young woman of many talents, carrying her child in beautiful, intelligent serenity.

The title of the painting reflects the Talmudic (Jewish) belief that one who saves a single life saves the entire world.

A little girl, alone in a glen, looks into a pond and sees an unexpected reflection: rather than her current appearance, she sees her future self. She sees a woman of strength and great beauty – a leader, a fighter.

The symbolic aspects of the painting are evident. The setting is a magical pond among trees, which conjures up the land of Narnia (The Magician’s Nephew). As for the reflection, the “warrior princess” is a venerable archetype, of much current popularity. More particularly, the warrior’s stance, costume, and dragon conjure up Game of Thrones.

At the same time, many aspects of the painting connect to circumstances in this world. The woman and young girl of the painting are, in fact, mother and daughter. The daughter’s thoughts about and feelings toward her mother are consonant (almost all the time) with the attitude symbolized in the painting– admiration and a desire to emulate. The mother is, in fact, strong, beautiful, a leader, and when necessary a fighter.

While some warrior princesses are creatures solely of legend or mythology, many others not only existed but moreover led troops victoriously into battle.

Boudica, who led the Celts against the Romans in the first century C.E., is an example. And, while I was doing this painting I had her as much in mind as I did the Game of Thrones. On the other hand, it so happens that the Game of Thrones is the mother’s favorite broadcast series of all time.

I had great fun doing this painting.

Esther is of a women of intelligence, compassion, and strength. She is Panamanian and lives in Panama City. I came to know Esther through my daughter, who spent a year in Panama City, working and living in neighborhoods inhospitable to unaccompanied young women. Esther met and befriended my daughter, and they became great friends.

Esther’s ordinary operating state is exuberance, so I found her softness in repose captivating. I wanted, through this portrait, to give expression to her quiet and gentle side.

A little girl creates an imaginary world. Her three stuffed bears and especially Bitty Baby, her dolly, always participate. The little girl includes grownups willing to take on the characters and names she assigns them. She has an impressive ability to inhabit the sometimes surreal world she imagines, and her dolly is always central to the story. Given that imagination, that centrality, and the homophone, I painted the portrait’s background in homage to the great surrealist, Salvador Dali.

The actual little girl is the much beloved granddaughter of a very close friend. I have been with the two of them on many occasions. Sometimes, the three of us have a visit (and typically have tea and cookies). Sometimes, I see her with her extended family. Whatever the setting, this little girl is effervescent.

The painting is based on three engaging photos of a good friend’s daughter; each photo shows the daughter playing a carefree, solo game of hopscotch. I could not decide which photo to use, so I decided to use all three. Also, no one plays only one game of hopscotch. Repetition is almost inherent in the game.

The photos were each taken at a slightly different moment, and this painting accordingly depicts hopscotch at three different moments. Time advances from left to right, and as time changes so do the young girl’s stance, facial expression, positions in the game, and so on.

Courtney, one of my favorite models, took a selfie on her phone. Using technology and “having some fun,” she took the original image, reproduced it three times, and layered those three images to produce a new image.

The digital image was both beautiful and charming, and I decided to emulate the model and have some fun with the layers. This painting is yet another descendent of the original selfie, and this time the transformation is from digital image to an original oil on canvas.

A portrait of a young mother and her young child as a statement of optimism. Parent and child dancing together on a beautiful fall day among the cornstalks--a carefree, happy and loving moment at a time when COVID was keeping us apart and the news and politics were making it difficult for anyone to smile.

To understand the triumph of the optimism requires knowing at least some of the young mother’s backstory. When she was a very young child, she suffered first the death of her father, then the death of her mother, and then relocation across the country to reboot her life. Purposely, this painting shows no trace of that great trauma – not because the trauma left no marks but because on this occasion (and many others) joy, love, and optimism reach far beyond the past.

Up Close From a Distance

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