“There is no doubt that artists and scientists will go on trying to alter the face of life, as well as art, and to get it right according to cultural conventions.”
Yorkshire based artist, Bren Head, is challenging the face of portraiture as we know it, delving deeper into the life experiences that shape our faces.
“For me portraiture needs to be more than a likeness, more than a visual recognition or resemblance. The face should hold our attention so that within these isolated single heads an emotional atmosphere with uneasy undertones is evoked by using distortions and exaggerated features, causing an interaction between portrait and viewer.”
Bluer Than This is a beautifully expressive and telling portrait, despite the fact that the subject is shying away from our attention. His vulnerable hunched posture, with half his face buried in his arm, gives the distinct impression that he doesn’t want to be looked at, which makes it uncomfortable to look at. Bren overtly nods to the mood of this piece through her colour scheme and title; the man in the painting is metaphorically and quite literally, as blue as can be.
Unlike most portrait artists, Bren excavates layers of outward appearance, looks beyond our composed mask, peels it away to see the thought processes and marks left from our life experiences, and then translates these inward emotions into a new exterior. She says: “My paintings are influenced by the words of Francis Bacon who said; ‘I am always hoping to deform people into appearance; I can’t paint them literally.’”
Her subjects are strangely exposed for such abstract images, often creating a sense of vulnerability within a strong face, or a worn tiredness within a made-up face. Red painted lips are contrasted with greying, subdued and exhausted eyes, and I wonder, what is she hiding behind the lipstick? Why is
she tired?
What fascinates me about Bren’s paintings is that they ensnare my curiosity, and I can
find a thousand possible stories buried beneath the layers on her canvas, some of which stemming from personal memories, triggered by a mood, posture or expression.
But She’s Not There is one of my favourites of Bren’s work. The expression, to me, reads a lack of recognition as she looks straight at you – it’s like looking into the face of a great Aunt and having to explain that you are related to her on so-and-so’s side.
Very rarely do we look into a face that stares back blank, scrutinizing and uncomprehending. When I look at this painting, a part of me wants to recoil and drop my gaze, like I might offend by staring, or am too uncomfortable under such a searching look. I find it fascinating that a portrait can kindle such reactions in me, and I find the strange sense of nostalgia just as intriguing.
The influence of the theory of evolution is evident in the quiet undertones of Bren’s composition – the stance and glance of her subjects. This, combined with her experimentation with media, creates the oddly fragmented, and engrossing effect of her work. Outward appearances are stripped back to their rawest state – almost primitive, childlike. When I look at some of Bren’s work, I read vulnerability, or outright defensiveness in the faces - basic human, even animal emotions, that we are trained in camouflaging, in order to meet the bar of social acceptance.
“I retain an interest in exploring materials and their properties, using different means of mark making, while developing new ideas on a variety of grounds. My work is always changing as ideas evolve.”
Visit Bren’s Profile Page for contact details, website links and a summary of featured articles on Fallyrag.
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