Anthropomorphic Portraits

One of the questions I'm asked most often is, "Why animals?"

The answer is surprisingly simple. Animals allow me to say something about people without drawing people.

For centuries artists, storytellers and illustrators have used animals as mirrors of ourselves. From medieval manuscripts and Aesop's fables to Beatrix Potter, Sir Edwin Landseer and Walton Ford, animals have carried our hopes, vanities, humour and flaws. They can make us smile first, then think afterwards. That balance of whimsy and honesty is something I find endlessly fascinating.

 

My own work is created entirely in coloured pencil. I love the quiet nature of the medium – the slow layering of colour, the gradual building of texture and the patience it demands. Every whisker, feather and curl of hair emerges a little at a time. It feels almost like getting to know the character while I draw.

Rather than simply dressing an animal in historical costume, I try to imagine who that individual might be. What expression would they wear? What life have they lived? What are they thinking just beyond the edge of the page?

 

Recently I've begun a new series inspired by great composers. The first is a portrait of Beethoven as a hare. He is still very much a work in progress, his expressive face complete while the rest slowly takes shape. His unruly hair seemed destined for long ears, and the determined gaze that appears in so many portraits of Beethoven translates remarkably well into a hare's alert, intelligent expression. I suspect he won't be the last composer to receive the anthropomorphic treatment. Which composer should I do next? I would love to see your comments!