These are works of art rarely seen by the public: private personal portraits that hang in homes, perhaps above a mantel, in a study, or in a bedroom; images of ourselves, our family and other loved ones, sometimes even our pets.
In an environment where selfies are available to anyone with a smartphone and professional photography is affordable and accessible, the desire for a painted portrait is driven by the appeal of tradition and its unique process, so the artist’s interpretation of the subject often reveals more than a resemblance.
“Something happens in that closeness, in that one-on-one contact,” says Joanna Gilmour, curator of the National Portrait Gallery in Canberra. “You can’t define it or measure it.”
The popularity of portrait awards such as the Archibald and the Darling and the success of the ABC TV series Anh’s Brush with Fame confirm that the art form is here to stay. “Whether we like it or not, we are wired to respond to people, and portraits have a very effective way of communicating. [tapping into] it is,” says Gilmour. “It’s an incredibly accessible genre.”
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While we love looking at portraits, commissioning one is another thing entirely. Portrait commission fees can range from $5,000 to $20,000 depending on the scope of work, materials used, process and time commitment, as well as the profile of the artist.
Few portraitists in Australia are in enough demand to make it a full-time profession. Even Ralph Heimans, whose portrait is available. Strength. The impact exhibition, now at the National Portrait Gallery, features Mary, Queen of Denmark, King George III. It includes images of Charles and Dame Judi Dench, who was forced to leave Australia.
Although it may be a niche subject, Gilmour has no doubt that his self-portrait will endure. “People order portraits because they want a picture of people they love and admire. They have been making portraits for these reasons for as long as portraits have been made.”
Here, three Australians share the painted portraits hanging in their homes and the stories behind them.
‘I’m amazed at how it can look’
Wendy Brown’s reaction to her husband’s request for a portrait of himself was not initially positive. He was horrified. “This is my worst nightmare,” says the surgeon.
The idea came to her husband, Melbourne art collector and property developer Andrew Cook, out of a desire to express his love for his wife and admiration for her achievements. Brown eventually hit upon the idea. “I guess I was a little fascinated by what it might look like,” he says.
Cook knew Yvette Coppersmith’s portrait work and says she was impressed by how much came out of her work. “You feel like you’re getting a glimpse into someone’s inner life.” He contacted Coppersmith’s gallery, and after the Archibald Prize-winning artist met the couple, they accepted the job.
Over the following months, Coppersmith compiled a file of reference points from historical paintings for inspiration and spent hours with Brown experimenting with different poses, outfits, colors and facial expressions.
The process took about a year while Coppersmith worked on other commissions and exhibitions. “This time allows you to problem solve. “It may not take 12 months to paint, but it will take 12 months for things to settle,” says Coppersmith.
The portrait shows a side of Brown that is very different from his medical persona. Coppersmith says this is much more difficult to achieve in a corporate commission. “This is the self they have at home; it is a visual anchor that reminds you of how you want to feel.”
For Brown, this is more than just a pretty painting. “Yvette took me on a journey while creating this work of art,” she says. “It was a truly precious gift.”
‘The best gift I ever received in my life’
When Mikhayla Carey decided to commission a portrait of her three children for her husband Jarwin, she knew there could only be one artist for the job. The family’s favorite was the work of Noni Cragg, a Bundjalung and Biripai woman and artist who painted many portraits of the extended Carey clan.
The portrait was planned as a Christmas surprise, so neither Jarwin nor his children knew anything about it. Carey sent Cragg numerous photographs and notes about Koda, Arlo and Nala to help the artist capture the children’s personalities and their connection to Gumbaynggirr Country on the north coast of New South Wales, where the family lived.
First Nations portraits have always played an important role in Cragg’s work. “I want to celebrate people who have not historically been celebrated in fine arts institutions, people of color, women, and people of color,” she says.
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Each portrait often features plants, animals and birds that are important to their subjects and their country. For the Carey commission, this meant painting a ngarlaa named after the tortoise Nala, and for Jarwin, a jaawan (lyre bird). It also included an Aboriginal flag and native birds and plants.
Painted in Sydney, where Cragg is based, Carey only saw the final work when the family opened the package together. “When Jarwin saw this he said, ‘This is the best gift I’ve ever received.'”
The portrait hangs in the family’s dining room, and the children love showing it off to visitors. Carey says Jarwin swore it would be the first object he would save if there was a house fire.
“I would be very upset if something happened to it because I know it would never be possible to regenerate,” she says. “He’s priceless.”
‘It was very healing’
After recovering from breast cancer, Avis Tolcher continued to live with the devastating psychological impact of the events of her past. The former dancer, then 60, was looking for more than a flattering likeness when she asked artist Yvonne East to paint her.
Tolcher had seen an exhibition of East’s work at the Murray Bridge Regional Gallery in South Australia and was inspired to commission a portrait of himself. “Even though the subject was not like that, the pictures were beautiful. I thought if I could see myself like that, maybe I could cure myself.
Tolcher requested a nude portrait showing her mastectomy scars; so after accepting the commission, East took some time to think about how to approach the job. “I did nothing for about two months. It was boiling, boiling, boiling. Then one morning I woke up and could see it in my mind. I called him and said, ‘Let’s sit down.’ Three days later the portrait was completed.
Tolcher invited Doğu and some of his close friends to an “opening” at the house. When the curtain was raised, “Avis stood completely still and raised her hand to cover her mouth,” East recalls. “Everyone was silent, and she said in a fragile but clear voice: ‘Oh my God… I’m so beautiful.’”
“It was very therapeutic,” Tolcher says. “And everyone there understood what that meant to me.”
For years the portrait hung in her living room for visitors to see, but after she met her second husband, David, it now hangs above the four-poster bed he made for her. Tolcher says the painting will always be “absolutely precious” to him.