Ghosts: Giving Pat His Smile Back
I watched Ghosts: The Possession of Button House this week. I had a bit of fan-anxiety beforehand. That unique stress of wanting something to succeed because you admire the creators combined with the dread of yet another sting of disappointment. Damn your eyes.
However, all of that is now forgotten because I LOVED IT. If you've not seen it yet then you can watch it anxiety free, it's everything (and more) that you want/need it to be.
Why I Painted Pat
Pat is my favourite Ghost so he was the first to unknowingly sit for a portrait. I liked the idea of them all having their own portraits, ones that wouldn't look out of place in Button House, so it made sense to start with my favourite. The fact that I've not got around to painting my second favourite, the Captain, is down to a bin fire of life events and the fact that a night's sleep seems to erase any exciting ideas I had the day before.
If you haven’t seen Ghosts, Pat is the scoutmaster, played by Jim Howick, and he has been dead since 1984 thanks to a very unfortunate archery lesson. He is also the most relentlessly optimistic man in the afterlife and that last bit is important, because that is what this post is really about.
The Reference Photo
When I started, I worked from a photo of Pat looking quite thoughtful. Arms crossed, not as smiley as we know him to be in the series. It’s a great photo, well lit and the composition worked, so I made a start; it would do.
Starting In Brown
I began with a thin drawing in raw umber oil paint, straight onto the canvas, just working out where things sit before I commit to anything. Then I blocked in the big shapes of light and shadow, still in browns and greys. At this point he looks a bit like a ghost himself, which felt appropriate.
I do sometimes grid up and sketch the face in pencil before painting. However, I am incredibly impatient and usually just want to dive in with the paints and figure it out on the canvas. It is a very risky strategy but it's also my preferred method. I find it exciting and I like the idea that anything can happen (good and bad). I also feel more like I am sculpting with paint and forming a 3D image with colour and value which is the way my brain works best, I think.
Photo: Building the framework, trying and failing to get the proportions correct at this point, but trusting the process.
The Smile Is Starting To Appear
Photo: on the left the likeness is not there yet, but also he looks sad, you can see on the right the beginnings of a smile appearing.
Somewhere in the middle of painting his face, I paused and thought: this isn’t the Pat I wanted to capture in paint. This portrait will be hanging in my hallway, cheering me on every morning. It needs to be Pat at his most resilient! It needs to be the "team work, makes the dream work" Pat.
The portrait was veering too serious so I decided to change it. I gave him his smile back.
Twinkle Eyed Pat
Photo: Using colour, value and some anatomy knowledge I managed to put a smile back on Pat's face in just a few brush strokes.
You Are In Charge
This is the bit I’d love you to take away. We are taught to copy what we see, and a photo reference can start to feel like a rulebook. It isn’t. If you know the face, or the character, well enough, you can make changes and move away from the original image.
For me, feeling like I knew Pat so well meant I could be confident about what to alter, and what to leave alone.
How A Smile Actually Works
A smile doesn’t live in the mouth alone. It starts in the eyes. The cheek muscle lifts and pushes up into the eye socket, which slightly narrows the eye. Then the mouth turns up, often a little more on one side. You can read more about the Duchenne smile in the New Scientist.
For Pat, I didn’t want a big grin. I wanted a hint of one, the start of a smile. If you paint just that much, the viewer joins the dots and fills in the rest themselves. To me that feels more alive and interactive.
Can I Hear Their Voice?
Here’s how I know a portrait is working: if I can hear the person’s voice, I know I’m on the right road. Somewhere along the way with Pat, he started talking back. He said "Dip it again!" and at that point I knew I had him.
Finishing And Framing
Photo: I got Pat framed at a local framers in Biggleswade (sadly now closed)
I chose an old-fashioned frame for him, which I love. I wanted him to look as though he’d hung in Button House for decades. The Pats of this world rarely get an oil painting of themselves and I wanted to put that right.
He now hangs in my hallway gallery, and I say hello to him every day.
Want To See More Of My Work?
Borrowed Hope - A collection of 12 skyscapes ready to hang
Snapshots - Small Paintings - Big Feelings
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