1. Can you tell us some information about the subject and inspiration for your Portrait?

When I first saw Lawrence I realized immediately that one day I would paint his portrait. I did not know when and how but I knew that I wanted to do it. I would say he is a man who draws you to him and it is difficult not to become interested in him. For a while he was ill and  his looks changed considerably. He did not play his guitar in church any more.

When I saw him during his period of illness, he was almost unrecognizable – in a wheelchair, emaciated and weak. I felt very sorry for him and I regretted that we couldn’t paint his portrait. But one day he returned to our church, like a ray of sunshine. And each Sunday he looked better and better. Eventually he was his „old self“ again.

I told him my plan. It seemed our thoughts were „on the same page“.  After some time, Lawrence told me that he would be really glad to sit for a portrait.

What was it about him that fascinated me? I think it was the flutter between his past and his present. The knowledge of who he had been in his youth. The dyed hair, the clothes, jewellery –eccentric yet beautiful.  It is a odd kind of naturalness; it is in the nature of human beings to want to be better and better. I remember a person that I knew quite well when I was young who wondered why we make an effort to try to be better. Why should we try to make others like us – let others take us as we are. If people love me when my hair is unwashed and my face sleepy, then it means that I am unconditionally loved. Let us imagine Lawrence sticking to his style at the age of 60 or 70, not for the others but for himself alone! 

2. What were your earliest aspirations? Have you always been interested in art?

I have always been an artist. When culture and art are described to me as some kind of an untouchable ivory castle, then I do not understand these people. I am not living outside this castle. I live inside, in the kingdom of culture, although not always in a castle. Sometimes I really enjoy wandering the remotest parts of the kingdom in order to learn more about myself and all of us. And it is always great to get back from my wanderings and put up an exhibition in the castle.

3. Where did you first get your art training?

I had my first art lessons at home, from my mother. Actually, one could say that I was born in an art school. My mother worked as a teacher at the art school in the town where I was born. We did not have a place to live in and my mother could stay with me in the staff room of the school. Later, growing up, I thought of this school as home. The smell of a box of watercolors is still the smell of my childhood. I remember that I stood once during the spring evaluation in a large classroom where the works of students had been laid on the floor waiting for being marked. I was just a child and did not speak much. Then in came a teacher asking me about my impressions. He kept asking. Impressions was a word that I did not know yet and I was not able to say anything. I ran to the staff room to my mother, whispering that  this man wants to know my impression. I now believe that this was my first art lesson.

4. How would you describe your style?

One can say that an empty canvas is absolute perfection and there is no need to add anything to it. Or, one can say that an empty canvas is all wrong and that every brush stroke that I the artist makes diminishes this wrongness. Finally I have to recognize the moment when the balance of right and wrong is just perfect and nothing else should be added. Sometimes I think that I haven’t got a distinct style. I have told myself that every new object tells me wordlessly in what style he or she should be painted. And then again this doesn’t feel right. When I look at the work of other artists and see various styles flickering and quivering there, then it bothers me. I think that this is immature. But I am not sure about the same thing in my own work. I will probably never really know what my work looks like. It is strange that I used to like Lautrec and I tried to paint like him  - but the result was still like me. Then I tried to paint like Sargent – but the result  still was not Sargent. My mother like a good teacher has always told me to let go of all the other artists and paint in my own way without thinking about style. Sometimes I think that I would like to master the style of doing „as little as possible and as much as is necessary“. Because if you want to add the last touches you still have to withdraw and arrive at the truth – in order to achieve something fresh and spontaneous, you have to do as little as possible and as much as is necessary. One can devise additional structures and build walls of brick and mortar but the first impression still defines the nature of your portrait because that is also the impression that will be remembered in the end. Or the first impression is also the impression that is taken away.

5. What have been among the most challenging experiences for you as an artist?

Meeting a new person, starting a new painting are things that I like most. This is my greatest challenge. In this situation you are literally invited to meet someone at a new mental level that describes this specific person best. Will you sense him or her, will you understand? And if you do, what will be your artist’s picture of him or her, your very picture of this new object?

6. What historical artists have influenced you the most?

I cannot really say anything. Sometimes I know exactly but the next moment I start to doubt and forget them I feel that there cannot exist a picture so simplified, so cut-and-dried. I sense that somewhere there is another one waiting to be discovered. I think that sticking to just the same names is a sign of poverty. The solemnity of Andrew Wyeth, the skill of Sargent, the curious suffering of Lautrec, the honesty of van Gogh etc. When I meet an artist who is so good that I cannot even envy him, then something good always finds its way into my soul. It is wonderful that the realization of this truth always makes me happy and patient with the world. 

7. Twenty years from now, where do you think you will be with your work?

In twenty years time? This time flies. I wish I could avoid getting into a rut. Then I could have another lifetime to advance my learning. I would not like to say that now I know everything. I don’t want to be too wise and not to make mistakes. Making mistakes gives us our own personality in art. Making mistakes enriches the art picture in general. Of course, I would like to speak about making mistakes wisely and not correcting everything in the picture.

8. Other than likeness, what are the specific qualities that you strive to create in a portrait that is also a good painting?

I wish that my portraits were not readable in one breath. You should be able to find something new every time you return to them. I am just a channel. Everything inside me has been subjected to one stroke of a brush. Every stroke of a brush seems the first one and the last one. It is almost as if  you have to try and close your ears to the model and attempt to get all the information with your eyes only. On the other hand you cannot speak to describe your model – the only things that you have are your hand and your brush. In other words, if you run out of the words to describe your model, then you can only rise to the height of painting. When you notice in the studio that you have stopped talking, then something remarkable is going to happen on the canvas. There is silence and the picture comes to life.

Questions by Christine Egnoski,

Portrait Society of America