Dear Reader,

As long as there are people, there will be portraits. Face it—no pun intended—people are attracted to people. We like to look at ourselves; we like to people-watch; we gaze into our lover’s eyes. Our faces are unique and fascinating: they are who we are.

As an artist, I was drawn to portraiture with my painting and photography. Once I embarked on a project to capture all of my friends’ faces (I can’t begin to tell you how many paintings that produced!). I photographed them, then painted only their faces onto an actual-size piece of found wood. Afterwards, I gave my friends their portraits—most of them tell me they still have theirs. I did this project for many reasons, but mainly to explore the mysteries of physiognomy—to discover how every face is so individual and reveals (or possibly disguises) that person’s personality. 

An artist can get lost in the process of painting a face. Sometimes all it takes is the way the subject’s hair curls, a slight upturn of the smile, or the type of spectacles they wear that defines their being. Often a quick flick of the brush on a shadow or highlight is all that’s needed. Something so minute might be the ticket, then it’s done.

Each artist we feature here has their own unique approach to portraiture. Amir H. Fallah’s paintings involve complex narratives that address cultural boundaries. In his current body of work most of the faces are covered. Fallah’s elaborate figurative paintings are not drawn from actual people he knows, but from imagery found on the internet.

On our cover is Helen Chung’s painting of LA artist Senon Willams. Writer/critic Ezrha Jean Black sits down with Chung to discuss anatomy and the intimacy involved with the act of painting the sitter—which is Chung’s preferred method.

Luis Sahagun’s portraits employ traditional Meso-American healing rituals. His role as the artist is that of a spiritual consultant who examines the person he may doing a portrait of and what their ailments might be, often the result of social stresses. Sahagun will then apply the necessary materials that reflect the broken parts of that person’s being. In one instance, he does a self-portrait of when he experienced racism at college. David S. Rubin interviews the Mexican-American Chicago-based artist.

Henry Taylor is a storyteller with his portraits, written by Donnell Alexander. But don’t call him a portraitist. That was stressed in the opening press preview. That could also be said of many artists who are known for their portraits. Though don’t all portraits tell a story? Once you put a face on it, you’ve got a story—a person, a life. 

If one visits the art galleries these days one does find that there’s an uptick in portraiture. Maybe that’s a sign that we are still human, and in these days of AI, that’s something to hold onto dearly.