Portrait Archives - Page 2 of 2

Posted on September 24, 2016September 24, 2016 by Patrick LaMontagne

John C. McGinley – A Portrait

If somebody had asked me a few months ago what I remembered about the television show ‘Scrubs,’ I would have likely said that it was good, a funny show. I was a regular watcher during its initial run and had fond, albeit non-specific memories of it.

In recent months, I have rediscovered the show on Netflix. As each episode is just over twenty minutes, it’s something I’ve been able to watch while having breakfast or lunch, and I found myself enjoying it even more the second time around. I’d forgotten how much heart it had. It could take you from laughing out loud at over-the-top ridiculous story lines to breaking your heart in the final two or three minutes.

The story arc featuring Brendan Fraser as a guest star just killed me, as one example. Another wonderful rediscovery was the music. I bought a few albums in the last couple of months, just because I heard songs on that show that I’d forgotten; Jeremy Kay, Colin Hay and Fountains of Wayne, if you’re curious.

One of the characters I most identified with was Dr. Perry Cox, played by the incredibly talented (and underrated) actor, John C. McGinley. His portrayal of the character could make you hate and love him in the same episode. Without a detailed dissection, I’ll just say that Cox was damaged, protecting himself by putting up walls and keeping everybody at a distance. But every so often, you’d get a look inside at a caring individual who just wanted to make a difference, despite knowing he was fighting a losing battle.

No more was that evident than in the 5^th season episode, “My Lunch.”

McGinley’s performance in that episode was profound. Without shame, I’ll admit that it moved me to tears. Not just a single tear down the cheek, but hitching my breath crying. I bought it completely and was at a bit of a low point in my own life at the time. It was cathartic.

I just felt the urge to paint that moment, the moment Cox shattered. When he finally reaches his broken and beaten mentor in the following episode, J.D. tells Cox how proud he is of him that “after twenty years of being a doctor, when things go badly, you still take it this hard.”

While I’m not a doctor, I get that, for so many reasons. It hit me deep. That’s what happens when you combine exceptional creators, writers, and performers, all delivering at the top of their game. Magic.

I worked on this in between the deadlines, so it was painted here and there when I had time. When it wasn’t working, when I didn’t feel it, I went back and watched that scene again and it refilled the tank, reminding me why I’d started it in the first place. I just watched it again before writing this and as I do, the painting is still not done. But it’s close. I could nitpick it for another week, I’m sure, and while it’s not as polished as other portraits I’ve done, that’s probably a good thing. It’s time to let it go.

Just as with every other portrait of a person that I’ve painted, this was a personal project. No deadline, no pressure, not something I’ll have to sell. I painted it for me, and it was well worth my time. I hope others like it, but if not, that’s OK, because I improved my own skills, took a break from the paying gigs, enjoyed myself and am now ready to move on to something else.

And I’m feeling pretty good.

Cheers,
Patrick
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Posted on June 6, 2015June 6, 2015 by Patrick LaMontagne

Mila Kunis – A Portrait

This is a portrait of Solara, a character from the movie ‘The Book of Eli.’ While the movie received mediocre reviews from critics and audiences alike, I’ve always liked it.

A dramatic thriller set in post-apocalyptic America, it feels a lot like a Western. What the movie might lack in originality or depth, it makes up for with a talented cast of actors. Denzel Washington, Gary Oldman and Mila Kunis carry the movie well. I bought it on DVD and have watched it a number of times, as I often do with movies I enjoy. I’ve never really liked film critics, so I won’t pretend to be one here by over analyzing it or trying to convince you to give it a try. There is a clever twist at the end, however, which makes watching it the second time even more interesting.

I’ve always been taken with the lighting in this movie. It has a definite sepia quality appropriate to the desperate tone of the setting. In one particular scene, near the end of a gun fight in the street, Solara peers out from where she’s hiding and I found it to be a powerful moment. Without saying a word, her face reveals her thoughts and I instantly wanted to paint Kunis in the role.

That was easily about two years ago, but I never quite forgot it. When I was looking to do another portrait, simply for my own enjoyment, I had a number of candidates in mind from films I’ve enjoyed, but I kept coming back to Solara. Part of the reason was that my portfolio has an abundance of male actors in it and I want to add more women, but also because I’ve thought about this painting often.

I started this in February, but with the preparation for the Calgary Expo, other deadlines and commissions, I had to put it aside so nothing got done on it for a couple of months. I finally made the time for it recently and I think I’m happy with the result.

There’s no denying that Mila Kunis is an attractive woman, but in this role, she was living in a desolate world, barely surviving. Her character lived in what passed for civilization and she was as close to privileged in the role as one could be in those circumstances. But, one of the biggest challenges for this piece was trying not to make it look too clean to preserve that tone, but also not to use too many rough textured brush strokes so that it was overdone. I didn’t want to ‘grunge it up,’ just because I could.

It was an interesting challenge and I experimented with new brushes quite a bit while painting, which made the effort of working on this piece well worth my time.

This was painted in Photoshop CC on a Wacom Cintiq 24HD. Movie stills were used only for reference.

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Posted on November 3, 2013November 3, 2013 by Patrick LaMontagne

Anthony Hopkins – Portrait

My latest painting of the character William ‘Bill’ Parrish, played so brilliantly by Sir Anthony Hopkins in the film, ‘Meet Joe Black.’

I’ve mentioned before that I enjoy painting characters from movies, rather than just the actors who play them. The primary reason is that I believe I can know characters, but despite what the tabloids would have us believe, I don’t know the actors who play them. When Anthony Hopkins was filming ‘The Edge’ here in Canmore, however, he had a reputation of treating everyone he met with kindness and sincerity and is remember fondly around here, so I must confess, this one was also about painting the actor, simply because I like him and his work.

Meet Joe Black is a loose remake of ‘Death Takes a Holiday.’ Anthony Hopkins plays the role of Bill Parrish, a very wealthy man of character and presence who finds himself reluctantly playing tour guide for Death, played by Brad Pitt. Knowing he is about to die and not having any real idea of how long he has to make peace with it, Hopkins expertly runs the gamut of emotions, with the character sworn to secrecy but trying to say his goodbyes, nonetheless.

The movie received mixed reviews, with criticisms that it was too long (the run time is just under 3 hours) and that it dragged in places. As it is one of my favorite films, and I frequently disagree with critics, I’ve watched this movie a few times and have never been disappointed. I believe the story lends itself to the slower pace and the movie contains a wealth of well played characters brought to life by a very talented cast.

For this portrait, I watched the film again and made notes in different places where the emotion of the character touched me most and I settled on six different possible references. In the end, it came down to two, the final scene with Parrish dressed in a tux at his birthday party, or the scene when he is finally committed to accept his fate and tells Death that he is ready. I chose the latter.

I thoroughly enjoyed this painting, listened to the musical score a few times while working on it and I was sorry to see it end, knowing I could have spent another week nitpicking every little detail and still not wanting to put it away. But to quote Bill Parrish in his final line of the film. “Well that’s life. What can I tell you?”

For those artists who always like to know the technical details, the final size for this image is 15″X20″ at 300ppi. Painted on a Wacom Cintiq 13HD and a Wacom Cintiq 24HD in PhotoshopCC. Photos were only used for reference and the painting consists entirely of brush work. No textures or photos were used in this image. As for how long it took, I didn’t keep track, but I would guess about 10-15 hours.

Posted on March 2, 2013March 2, 2013 by Patrick LaMontagne

Chris Hadfield Portrait – “Here Comes Home.”

If you don’t know who Chris Hadfield is by now, especially if you’re Canadian, then you’ve probably been studying in a monastery somewhere, cut off from the rest of the world. Currently aboard the International Space Station on his third mission in space, Hadfield has become the face and voice of the Canadian Space Program. With his multiple daily tweets and photos from orbit, his now frequent Q&A communications to schools and media, and his high profile life high above the Earth, Hadfield has Canadians and people around the world excited about space travel again. I’m 42 and often kind of cynical about our species, largely due to the editorial cartoon portion of my career, but when I see the images and video being sent back from the I.S.S. each day, I feel like a 10 year old kid again, excited about the possibilities, if we can only keep moving forward.

Hadfield seems to have that charismatic personality that so few possess, able to speak to world leaders and grade school children in a way that puts both at ease and allows them to understand what he’s saying, while still being the same guy with both audiences. Because of his obvious passion for his work, his willingness to share so much of his rare experience with the world, and his ability to be a scientist, engineer, artist and humanist all at the same time, I couldn’t help but be inspired to paint his portrait, especially after seeing the video of the musical event featuring Hadfield, Barenaked Ladies, and the Wexford Gleeks. The reference and title for this painting came from that video and song.

There is no better legacy than to inspire those around you and the next generation to believe in the possibilities before them. I can’t imagine how many children are now considering futures in the space program because of Hadfield’s example. Whether they’ll remain on the ground as part of the team that sends us further into space or actually get to be one of the few who go, will be up to them.

If all goes to plan, Chris Hadfield will take command of the International Space Station on March 13th, the first Canadian to do so. Just recently, the Canadian Space Agency posted a video where Hadfield demonstrated how he controlled the Canadarm2 from the cupola. In it he said, “Canada built the Canadarm2. And Canadarm2 built this space station. Everybody should be proud of that.”

We are, indeed.

For the artists who are always interested in the tech specs. This was painted in Photoshop CS6 Extended with a Wacom Cintiq 24HD. Final file dimensions are 32″X24″ at 300ppi. It’s a big file! Reference was a screen capture from the YouTube video mentioned above, which meant the quality wasn’t great, but I muddled through. Photos are never used as part of the painting, all was painted from scratch. I wanted desperately to put stars in those windows, but they just wouldn’t be visible in real life, so I kept that urge in check.

Posted on January 31, 2013August 28, 2013 by Patrick LaMontagne — 10 Comments

Martin, Emilio, and Tom’s Road.

Sometime around the middle of December, I finished painting a portrait of Martin Sheen. More accurately, the portrait was of his character, Tom, from the movie The Way, written for the screen and directed by his son, Emilio Estevez. While the painting was done purely for my own enjoyment, sometimes a seemingly innocent pursuit will take on a life of its own. Since the movie inspired me to paint the portrait, as did their father/son memoir ‘Along the Way,’ I wrote about that when I posted the painting. Click here, if you’d like to read it.

As is my practice, I posted the link on social media and also tagged Estevez’s account on Twitter, especially since he has used that vehicle to promote the film. I thought that if he saw it, he might like what I wrote and painted, but didn’t actually expect anything to come of it. Twitter is a busy place and it’s impossible to keep up, so a lot more gets missed than noticed.

Imagine my surprise when just a couple of hours later on that same Saturday, an email arrived from Estevez via my website. He thanked me for my support of the film and then asked about buying a print, with the intent of giving it to his father for Christmas. With just five business days remaining, I had to tell him that even a rush job would have been impossible by the 25th, especially considering that I’d want to be meticulous about the proofing, given the recipient. I told him I’d be happy to set things in motion in January, if he was willing to wait. He was very gracious, completely understood, and we began talking about it again after the holidays.

In the meantime, his mother had seen the painting and wanted him to inquire about buying the original. Here’s the technology hiccup when you start talking originals and digital painting. A digital painting exists only on a hard drive and screen until it’s printed, so there really is no original in the traditional sense. One solution is to supply documentation that certifies a specific print to be the original. Mine are always printed on canvas and I gave Emilio the option of choosing the size. After a month of proofing, printing, signing, and packaging, the original 18″X24″ stretched canvas shipped last Friday. I also certified the canvas itself by writing the title of the piece and an additional signature on the back. Incidentally, until all of this occurred, I hadn’t titled this painting, but decided it needed one before it shipped. Yesterday, “Tom’s Road” arrived at Martin’s home.

The reason for this piece in the first place was to take a small break from the commercial work, as every image I’ve created lately has been a product. The whole point was to get away from everything being about money and marketing, if only for a moment. I wanted to paint my best portrait work, for no other reason than that. I am a commercial artist, no doubt about it, and I make a good living at it. This is my business, my livelihood, and my career. But this piece was special, inspired by a movie I loved, which was, in a way, a light at the end of a tunnel. My gut instinct told me that to try and make money from this would have tainted the whole experience, something that was worth much more to me than a paycheque. So, when Emilio asked to buy the original, I chose not to put a price on the work, but still offered the painting, charging only my printing and shipping costs.

Sometime in the near future, I’ll be receiving a paper print that I’ve asked them to sign. I’ll have it framed for my office, a souvenir of the experience, and a constant reminder that I must make time for personal work. I’ve also asked Emilio to have Martin sign one more print, something I can reserve for a charity auction sometime in the future. He was happy to oblige, and you can bet that I’m going to be very picky about which cause benefits from this unique item.

There is no doubt in my mind that had I attempted to orchestrate any of this, had I painted the portrait with the intention of bringing about these events, none of it would have happened. I created this portrait for me, to remind myself why I paint, and since I truly enjoyed working on it, that was enough. But to have it appreciated by his family, was a wonderful and unexpected bonus, not to mention a validation of my recent choices.

If all that weren’t enough, the greatest compliment I received was something offered by Estevez in one of his e-mails this past month. He said, “…the image is gorgeous and you have captured my father in a way that few have.”

It just doesn’t get much better than that.