The Portrait That Never Happened..

Most people think a portrait is a record of life in a moment. But the more I work, the less convinced I am. Photographs are evidence of mere fractions of a second wrapped up in light and atmosphere. A painted portrait has the luxury to do something different: to ignore what happened and paint what matters instead.

When Bridgette asked me to paint a portrait of her and Kurt as a wedding gift, I was faced with an interesting situation. To me, the posture of the painting I wanted to create didn't exist. They had never stood together in the way I wanted to paint them, but individually in other worlds they had. So, working from separate photographs, I brought them into the same space and created a moment that now only exists on canvas.

As musicians, they’ve spent a good deal of time standing on stage in front of audiences, but I wasn't interested in painting the performers. I painted their contemplative minds and the quiet seconds before life changes direction—in this case, two people standing on the threshold of marriage. Ironically, the most truthful part of the painting is the only part that never happened.

Thanks for allowing me the honour.