
Portraits that aren't
Traps and trickery in contemporary portraiture
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Has the portrait ever been quite what it seems?
In most cases, probably not. The dazzling realism of, say, a Holbein
may lead us to assume we're viewing almost a mirror image, but for centuries
artists have flattered fee-paying subjects as readily as today's art editors
digitally enhance top models.
Modern movements - Cubism, Fauvism, Expressionism - attempted to leap
beyond the purely mimetic, with their effect on portraiture prioritising
the presence, aura or psychology of an individual.
Photography, briefly, gave us the most accurate documentation of everyday
reality, but that, too, quickly became as much about artifice as objectivity
- although belief in its authenticity lingers stubbornly to this day.
Contemporary portraiture, however, has many further tricks up its sleeve.
Much of today's most exciting use of the genre crams a multitude of possibilities
into an action-packed, snare-filled space. True products of the contemporary
mash-up, these are the kinds of work we'll be considering here: portraits
that are no longer simply depictions of individuals, but portraits, in
a more complete sense than ever before, of our own lives and times.
Mistresses of disguise
The photographic work of American artist Cindy
Sherman is perhaps one of the best-known examples of portraiture
that isn't what it seems.
During her long career the artist has consistently appeared in her own
photographs, yet always assuming an identity other than her own.
In her first important series, Complete Untitled Film Stills,
Sherman posed as actresses from varying movie genres, the production of
the images carefully styled to give the requisite sense of authenticity.
Since then, Sherman has adopted many other guises, including historical
figures, clowns and even centerfolds. In some of her most recent work,
new photo-editing techniques seamlessly duplicate her image so that she
appears twice - as different people - in the same photograph.
 
© Cindy Sherman, Untitled No: 129, 1984; Untitled
Film Still No: 7, 1978
Sherman's practice challenges our long-held belief in the objective
reality of the photograph.
'The camera never lies', yet her self-portraits of people she isn't vacillate
between fact and fiction and in so doing, explore further assumptions
that many tend to regard as truths. For example, Sherman has often adopted
specific gestures, costume or props in order to convey recognisable 'types',
a reflection of the societal clichés commonly used to (mis-)interpret
those around us.

Portraits of the future
Japanese photographer Miwa Yanagi likewise plays with
the idea of portrait / self-portrait in her ongoing series My Grandmothers.
The artist's work has generally centred on an investigation of women's
roles in her native country and to create the Grandmothers series,
the artist interviews young women about the dreams and aspirations they
harbour for themselves - however improbable - fifty years into the future.
Based on these comments, Yanagi photographs the women experiencing the
scenarios described, yet made up to resemble the old women they will eventually
become.
In this way, the photos act as a kind of 'future portrait', investigating
notions of time, identity and personal fantasy.
 
© Miwa Yanagi Mika, My Grandmothers (details)
Another Japanese artist, Yasumasa Morimura, has specialised
in 'appropriations' of artworks since 1985.
Inserting his own face and body into reproductions of famous works by
artists such as Manet, Frida Kahlo or Valezquez, the artist literally
stamps his own personality on classic art. Similarly, he has posed as
well-known movie stars, sometimes in elaborate sets recreating stills
from films in which they have appeared.
 
© Yasumasa Morimura
While many see Morimura's flamboyant, camp aesthetic as a fun but slightly
obvious strategy, others consider his work more complex.
For example, the images appear to operate as a kind of wish-fulfilment
motivated by the artist's fascination with various aspects of fame. By
'becoming' a classic image or celebrity, Morimura assumes some of their
instantly recognisable, enduring status.
This approach, as we shall see, is characteristic of several other contemporary
portrait makers, and his obvious re-workings of both high and popular
culture certainly provide a clear-cut example of the eclectic borrowings
of post-modernism at work.
Interestingly, the artist has also recreated pieces by Sherman - in
which, of course, he poses as Sherman posing, in turn, as one of her own
fictional characters.

Beneath the mask
While Morimura generally delights in facilitating recognition, UK artist
Gillian Wearing partially or completely disguises subjects
in order to emphasise alternative aspects of their identity. Masks, in
particular, are a favourite form of concealment.
In a 1994 video, members of the public responding to a small-ad invitation
to "Confess all" donned party-style rubber masks in order to
anonymously reveal misdemeanours, vices and personal traumas.
A year later, Wearing filmed herself walking through a busy London street
with her face completely bandaged (below).
Based, as the title suggests, on a real experience, the true subject
of this movie portrait is not the artist herself, but the reactions of
those around her as well as the unknown woman who inspired the piece.

© Gillian Wearing: Homage to the Woman With the
Bandaged Face Who I Saw Yesterday Down Walworth Road, 1995
In later works, Wearing conceals the identity of subjects through far
more sophisticated means.
At first, 'Olia' appears to be a sensitive, though fairly conventional
photographic study of a naked woman. Yet there is something disquietingly
unreal about the figure, and in fact, the image depicts a model 'clothed'
in a latex cast of her own face and torso.

Olia, 2008 © Gillian Wearing
In order to understand this portrait in any conventional sense we would
literally need to delve beneath the subject's skin, and here, as in Sherman's
work, the artist forces us to question the notion that photographic images
are indeed authentic and absolute.
In 2003 Wearing again used herself as model for the elaborate project
'Album', in which complex prosthetics transform the artist into members
of her immediate family, as well as a teenaged depiction of herself.

Self-portrait as my father, 2003 © Gillian
Wearing
Although the disguises - created in collaboration with the famous waxwork
museum Madame Tussaud's - are extremely convincing, Wearing takes pains
to reveal her strategy by openly terming each work a 'self-portrait'.
Thus asserting her own identity, the portraits become a statement concerning
the artist's perception of family ties. Her striking visual conceit claims
that, in a very real sense, genetic and social links mean that she is,
at least partly, each of the people she portrays.

Painting the photograph
A further project - and one of the artist's most recent - moves the emphasis
away from photography to reflect instead on the artifice of the painted
portrait.

Rowena, 2008 © Gillian Wearing
The seven slickly erotic Pin Ups have clearly been created according
to the conventions of glamour modelling. Though figurative in style, they
could easily represent fantasy figures derived entirely from the imagination.
Yet each portrait (commissioned from illustrator Jim Burns) is of a real
subject - two men and five women - who Wearing located through an ad placed
online, then sent for a make-over and photo-shoot before passing the images
to the painter.
In a fascinating twist, each of the paintings hinges opens to reveal
a hidden archive. In it are the subject's original responses to the ad;
a letter explaining his or her reasons for wanting to be represented in
this way, and several personal snapshots. Needless to say, these photographs
rarely coincide substantially with the subsequent portrait.
While Wearing's project cleverly investigates the chasm between notions
of painterly reality and photographic verisimilitude, one of the most
powerful statements on this subject lies in Gerhard Richter's
celebrated 'photograph-paintings'.
Although the subject matter in these works varies considerably, many
are ostensibly depictions of individuals ranging from family members to
historical figures or faces simply snipped from magazines or newspapers.
Far from accepting these works as portraits in any conventional sense,
however, Richter has always stipulated that they should be seen only as
portraits of photographs.
The distinction is subtle yet immensely profound, and in practice, highlights
our instinctive need to assimilate and prioritise the human presence above
all else.
While Richter's early photo-paintings visually support his contention
through black and white imagery and hazy, indistinct brushwork (see image,
top of page), later paintings are highly realistic, with a slight blur
serving as the only distancing mechanism.

Moritz, 2000 © Gerhard Richter
In Richter's painting featuring his baby son, above, our emotional engagement
and perception of the image is almost inevitably directed towards the
figure of the child - even if we know that the real subject of the painting
is not, for Richter, the boy himself, but the photograph in which he is
depicted.
portraits that aren't:
the contemporary portrait - continued >
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