Slipping out the backdoor of the National Portrait Gallery after a lazy morning at the BP portrait awards, I suddenly and without reason felt injected with a curious anxiety. As a freelance writer, what was my judgement of these portraits? Did I like them? I sure did. But why? What do they say? And can I draw a line across all of them that points to one quality of modern portraiture itself? I didn’t know where to start. I was begging to answer a question that I didn’t have. But to my relief my helpless fright didn’t last for long. Once I read Paul Beel’s report on the making of his portrait, Epic Mirtiotissa, my frosted thoughts started melting fast, spilling continuous drops of questions onto the tip of my tongue.
Beel happen to get his hands on the BP Travel Award in 2010 – probably the most exciting thing that can happen to any aspiring young artist. Every year the BP Travel Award invites artists to propose ideas of portraits set in interesting locations around the world. If their proposal wins, they are given the opportunity to travel to that exact location in order to work on their desired portrait. Only one artist’s proposal is accepted each year. Their final piece is then shown as part of the following year’s BP Portrait Award exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery. Beel won the prize for his proposal to paint a portrait of the nudist beach, Mirtiotissa, on the Greek island of Corfu. At first thought I unjustifiably assumed that Beel saw this as a chance to suck empty an opportunity overflowing with all the effortless benefits of a paid holiday. He took a brave chance at proposing the most idyllic, glamorous and relaxing location he could find on planet earth and happen to be lucky enough to win the prize. What a bargain? A week of holiday on the beach in Corfu...
It turns out, my parasitical judgement of Beel’s intent was a big mistake. 'Holiday' was what Beel needed after his 1st two months of preparing the project prior to his journey to Corfu. And the real work was yet to begin. As absurd as this may sound to us ‘normal’ people, half of the two month preparation involved the emotional state Beel had reach before the commencement of his project - which he intently decided had to be completed as lived ‘through the experience of a Greek God’. The other part of the preparation entailed researching the exact layout and proportions of the beach, planning how to reach the bottom of the beach with all his equipment and hence was followed by Beel’s design and building of custom made equipment as well as a painting cart with which to transport it all(this – Beel bizarrely regarded as his ‘chariot’) and lastly a serious and long overdue exercise routine – the benefits of which Beel would feel as he made his way to and from the beach everyday for as long as the project may have last.
Beel also organized for two models to be flown in to Corfu for the project - one from America and the other from London. The rest of his models – idealistically free willing - had to be recruited on location, which meant spending long, late nights in Greek restaurants throwing back sufficient litres of ouzo to win the respect of the 'not-so-eager-on-Beel' beach regulars. Beel kept at it for a whole month, painting every day from sunrise till sunset, spending days on some models and minutes on others, until his Epic Mirtiotissa - now known as a masterpiece – was complete. Beel regards his creation not as a group portrait, a seascape or a genre painting. Rather he considers it to be ‘...a portrait of a place’.
Why did all this make me want burst with inquisitiveness? You’ll be sure to find out if you stick around for the next episode...
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