Narrative Portraiture
David Sandell’s meticulous portraits are researched and have unique narratives
David Sandell’s meticulous portraits are researched and have unique narratives
Itis often suggested that we should paint or draw subjects that interest us. My focus for many years has been portraiture in oils or pencil and more recently seascapes; the human face and the sea both fascinate me, perhaps because human skin and the sea both have no inherent colour. With oil portraits I initially test my ideas with sketches and pencil studies, to get a feel for what might work; these drawings often become finished pieces in their own right. My working week is split between design and art studios, so I find drawing offers more flexibility than oils, requiring less preparation. I generally stand up while drawing and painting; this encourages me to step back and check the integrity of the drawing and also helps keep my back flexible. Many of my non-commissioned portraits are inspired by books I’ve read, things I’ve heard or people I’ve met. I have a longstanding interest in Roman history. I was born and raised in a shipbuilding town on the northeast coast of England near a town called
Wallsend—this is actually the end of Hadrian’s Wall, built by Emperor Hadrian on the northern frontier of the Roman Empire; I like to think there is still something of the Roman legions left in my genes! Inspiration for this case study came from a conversation with a friend over a few beers. We discussed how we don’t see many epic historical paintings anymore, at least not in public view in the U.K. I mentioned how I’d always wanted to paint an epic, but didn’t have the time or funding for one. My drinking buddy, the Rev. Jez Safford, then made a suggestion; we discussed a recent sermon he’d delivered about the Centurion present at the crucifixion of Jesus; he suggested this as a theme. In his sermon, he was making the point that, here was an experienced soldier who had seen a lot of violence. Crucifixions were not jobs for the squeamish and Centurions had to stand and watch while people died slowly and painfully on their crosses. The soldiers had become hardened to the experience to survive. But for this Centurion, something about this man’s death was different. Ideally this piece would have been a large oil painting; time constraints meant it became a pencil study followed by this larger drawing that simply got out of control and took on a life of its own. Interestingly, my friend Jez is also the chaplain to the local Northampton Saints Rugby Club and he had the perfect model in mind. Within 24 hours, the rugby player in question had agreed to be the model! From this point, it was all down to me. I hired a complete Roman uniform, then worked up some initial pencil studies and planned a photographic shoot of various poses in costume. The 6-foot4-inch rugby player, ironically named Christian, was the ideal model for my Centurion; he was in his final playing
year and had seen some serious action in his career taking some big hits, without the protection of armour I should add! Historical themes can be fraught with challenges: historical accuracy, lack of authentic props and so on. Even though I’d ordered the Roman costume to fit Christian, the largest helmet available was still too small for his head. I decided that by holding the helmet it would reveal more of his marvellous face and also convey a slightly disarmed gesture. After some initial thumbnail sketches, I produced a small coloured pencil study to work out the composition. I planned to create the background later, in sympathy with the model’s lighting. I decided to lose the cloak, giving a clearer view of the armour. (Historical note: The armour shown in the drawing was developed during a later period of the first century and has only been used in this composition for dramatic effect). As a process, I often work on grey Pastelmat as this provides a mid-tone for the artwork. I use a dark red (Derwent Studio - Burnt Carmine) for my initial drawing and to establish values. I approach coloured drawings in much the same way as I do for oil paintings. I establish the basic drawing, then an initial statement of the darks, I then indicate the lightest areas followed by key halftones, deciding in each case whether these are warm or cool. I then repeat these stages in cycle, building up the values and colours, repeatedly checking the drawing for accuracy. However, I am not pursuing photorealism; there are many artists who do this extremely well. My work is not intended to be photographic; I want it to be convincing but still a drawing, where I have the freedom to select what to keep and what not to keep, to control colour, composition, values, edges and mood. I use photography but I draw from life on a regular basis with a group of artists, I feel I’m taking my drawing brain to the gym for a workout.