PAPER CRANES AND BROKEN DOLLS
Award winners from the 2019 International Portrait Competition are finding symbols for the moment.
This past April, the Portrait Society of America honored the 24 finalists of the International Portrait Competition at the 21st annual The Art of the Portrait conference held in Atlanta. All the award-winning works were on display at the conference, where attendees could meet and talk with each finalist and hear the announcement of this year’s Draper Grand Prize winner, artist Seth Haverkamp for his outstanding portrait Mars Rising. In my recent conversations with the finalists, we spoke about the powerful symbolism in their works and the thoughtful inclusion of certain objects and motifs, from brightly colored paper cranes and broken dolls to the subtle detail of a downward gaze or a door that can never be closed.
In his winning work, Mars Rising,
Haverkamp portrays his 8-year-old son, Caspian, standing shirtless with his back to a mirror and holding a delicate string of paper cranes. “The original concept was just to do a life-size portrait, but as I began placing extra elements into the painting, it morphed into playing with the underlying theme of peace and how that concept seems impossible to realize,” Haverkamp explains. “This painting is more than a likeness; it’s a reflection on the world we live in today. The symbolism of peace carries through, but it’s fragile, just as Mars’ façade was as the Roman god of war.”
The fragility he mentions is evident in the broken string of cranes that have fallen to the floor by his son’s feet. There is an ancient Japanese legend that says the gods will grant one wish to any person who folds 1,000 origami cranes. It was believed that the crane could live 1,000 years, which is
how the bird came to symbolize immortality in many Asian cultures. Today, the crane has become a symbol for peace all around the world. In that rich history, Haverkamp’s painting symbolizes a father’s wish for a peaceful world for his son.
Kate Stone’s work, Childish Things, likewise features a portrait of her son, who sat on the floor of her studio with his hands gently around the face of an old doll. The boy sits contemplating the doll’s expression, surrounded by an array of still life objects. On the symbolism in her painting, Stone remarks, “My concept is very loosely inspired by Pietro Annigoni’s Direste voi che questo è l’uomo?, 1953, a painting which features the artist with his own son, a life-sized mannequin, and a model. In Annigoni’s painting, he’s grilling his son, asking him if he’s basing his art off of the live model or the intermediary. My painting is meant to be a commentary about how having my own son is inspiring me to base my art more off life and less off of secondhand ideas and concepts.” In her painting, textured slivers of light streak across the canvas and highlight the back of her son’s head, further symbolizing the inspiration that the artist seeks.
In The Bribe, Timothy Rees portrays his young son and pregnant wife in a room cluttered with toys, books and an object surely familiar to most readers here—a paint-spattered rug. About this work, Rees explains, “I have been slowly moving toward narrative painting, so I wanted to compose something with a story. The idea of the overwhelmed mother and a destructively energetic 3-year-old seemed to me a very human story, so that became the foundation of my painting. I constructed a staged ‘living room’ created with various props, starting from scratch to be able to control elements of the composition.” Rees’ attention to detail in this work is extraordinary
as each object in the scene—from the slightly skewed decor to the carefully chosen book titles—reinforces the overall narrative and meaning of the piece.
While symbolic objects can help create meaning in a work, the most affecting symbolism is often conveyed with simple actions and gestures, such as a downward glance. In Erin McCarthy’s portrait bust, titled Simple Man, she affectionately depicts her father, Dan, a devoted fan of Lynyrd Skynyrd and a man who has valued always the simple things in life. According to McCarthy, “He is not like most people. He is much simpler. He hasn’t had grand ambitions for his life. If you look inside his apartment, you won’t find much. He doesn’t really own anything. He is easily pleased with just a can of cold beer and a phone call from his children. His humble simplicity of living has allowed him to walk through life virtually invisible.”
Further, McCarthy says, “Simple Man walks among us every day. Sometimes we pass him by. Sometimes we judge his simplicity as a lack of ambition or personal drive. He does not consume attention, but if you look closely, there is so much to be seen. Every line of his face will tell a story.” Thus, her piece, which took home the first place sculpture award, is both a portrait of her father and a touching symbol for the people in this world who are often overlooked.
If you are not looking carefully, it can be easy to miss the subtle symbolic details in a work of art. This is certainly the case with Alex Venezia’s portrait of his wife, Divya, titled Haunting, which won first place painting and the people’s choice award this year. While focusing on the beautiful rendering of his wife seated sideways with her chin and arms resting on the back of her chair, you might easily miss the door behind her, left purposefully ajar.
On this detail, Venezia explains, “It’s a subtle narrative told through the expression on her face and body language, coupled with the symbolism of the slightly opened door behind her, that eludes to a haunting memory of one’s past which lingers in the back of the mind like a door you can’t shut.” Once noticed, it is impossible not to look into the slight void at her back, straining to see what lies beyond the door, while perhaps at the same time envisioning the door’s left open in our own minds.
In fact, the world is filled with symbols. As humans we are always striving to make sense of our world, and symbols can help us to understand each other and our shared experiences—our shared hopes for the future. In looking at this year’s works, I see a generation of artists who are keenly aware of the power of symbols to inspire, to move people, and to make a difference. And though Haverkamp’s son Caspian may be a few cranes short of 1,000, his portrait is undeniably a poignant symbol for the fragility of peace in our world.
Stricklin, guest writer for the Portrait Society of America, is a Ph.D. candidate in the history of art at the University of Pittsburgh. She specializes in American art, photography, and the visual legacies of war and empire. She received her bachelor’s and master’s degrees in the history of art from Florida State University.