I started posing for the camera early in life. Look for evidence in any family scrapbook – whenever there was a camera in the vicinity, I immediately sprang into my photo-pose. Left shoulder forward, head tilted, chin tucked. I like to call it, “The Sweetie Pie” pose. It’s become a family joke over the years and my siblings can perfectly reproduce it and have done so for occasional family photos. I’m not sure where I learned to “turn it on” for the camera, but I am guilty as charged.
I’ve always been pretty comfortable in front of a camera, but about six months ago, I got a phone call that made me a little nervous. It was from my friend Marilyn Van Pelt. She wanted to know if I would be interested in having her husband paint me. I was familiar with his work- abstract realism that when viewed from a distance has an almost photographic quality. It’s a complicated blending technique invented centuries ago by some old Dutch masters and is still used today, even here in Carrollton, Georgia, by Ralph Van Pelt.
I was puzzled at first. Although at one time (thanks to the genetic stew that gave me long legs and a thick mane of hair) I had been the subject of artist depictions, it has been a minute (decades of them) since an artist wanted to paint me. But Marilyn told me that Ralph was painting all sorts of people from all walks of life who lived in this area (in his words, “people in our community who have influenced and enhanced our lives”), so I said, “I’m not sure how I got into that distinguished company, but sign me up.”
It didn’t take much arm-twisting to get me to agree. If you’ve seen Ralph’s work, you know that he paints portraits so lifelike that you can almost see them breathe so I was thrilled to be included in the project. But then I started thinking about it. It’s kind of strange to be immortalized in oil on canvas, to join the company of George Washington, Queen Elizabeth and others whose images have stood the test of time. You start to ask yourself questions, like, how do you want to be remembered? Dignified? Distinguished? I decided to go Bohemian. I chose a simple peasant blouse and my granny Dora’s elaborate Navajo turquoise necklaces. For props I chose a stack of my daddy’s books from his preacher library.
The day of the photo shoot came. I was nervous. I was wishing for an extra six months to lose a little weight- I didn’t know if I wanted every current ounce of me immortalized, but I finally got over myself. I curled my hair and painted my face and drove to Van Pelt’s studio, ready for my close up.
First I got a tour of the place and was honestly overwhelmed by the quality of the paintings. I’d seen photos of them, but in person they were remarkable. Also, I wasn’t expecting life-size. Like “hang it in a memorial library” size. There were portraits of many people that I knew. Dr. Fred Richard’s eyes sparkled right off the canvas, just like in real life. Michelle Lewis’s smile lit up the room, just like it had in real life. I was amazed by Ralph’s ability to capture the essence of a person.
Ralph and Marilyn got a kick out of my brightly colored curlers and clips and Ralph asked if he could take some photos of those too- I was happy to comply and felt my jitters fade as I “Sweetie Pie-ed” my way through the photo shoot. Eventually he had shots he felt good about and we reviewed all the images (a thing that I had dreaded). He made me help him chose the final image that he would paint. At first I demurred, saying, “Oh, really, just which ever one you think is best.” But that didn’t last long. I soon discovered that I had strong opinions about which photo to use and was glad Ralph included me in the decision.
After choosing the photo, I headed home. Now I just had to wait for the magic to happen. Over the next couple weeks he texted me photos of his progress, first the rough sketch. Then the dark background. As the days passed, my eyes appeared, my nose, my face. Arms, hands, books. As each piece filled in, I became more and more excited to see the end result. He and Marilyn had me to their house for the unveiling and I was (for a rare moment) speechless.
Right now, this amazing portrait hangs in our humble home but on Sunday, it will be rejoining it’s brothers and sisters (portraits of Karen Vance, Bernie Wong, Laura Richards, Behruz Sethna, Don Rice, Marilyn Van Pelt and other community personalities). All the paintings are going to hang at the Neva Lomason Library. The opening of the exhibit is from 2-4.
If you’re in the neighborhood, come and see my dignified bohemian, and all the other people remarkably captured by Ralph’s brush. I’ll be there, nibbling on catered hors devours and trying to look immortal.