Caricatures in Northern Idaho

Wedding Arbor, Cataldo, Idaho

The SilverValley of Northern Idaho is one of the most beautiful places I’ve seen in America. Where the Coeur d’Alene river runs through the mountains of the same name, the valley links a chain of small lakes, until the river flows into the large, meandering Lake Coeur d’Alene. By the mouth of that river is the Old West steamer port town of Harrison, where I stayed in a creaky bed and breakfast, swam in the lake, and bathed in a claw foot tub. On the other end of the valley are the nineteenth century mining towns of Wallace and Cataldo, the latter being the home of the first Jesuit mission in the state. And somewhere in between was the ranch where my clients had their wedding.

The Hall-Green Wedding

A relatively new gravel road was carved up the hill to a wedge of dirt and rock excavated from the mountain, big enough for the guests to park, and with a half barn sort of structure built to accommodate a reception, complete with ee-lec-tricity. It goes without saying that the hillside was an excellent place for the groomsmen to take some target practice before the festivities. And there was even a patch of grass for a ceremony. The whole place was equipped with a view built specially by God Himself, and a piece of it was conveniently framed by a white arbor with a cross on top, and a bough of fresh flowers.

It’s a place to which I should return with my easel and paints. But on this occasion, I was contracted to draw caricatures, rather than a live oil painting.

I always tell the women that my caricatures aren’t demeaning, that I’ll make them all look like movie stars. The men, however, have no such promise—especially if they’re the goofy type who invite a little satire.

Certain precocious children sometimes tend to get drawn repeatedly, on the knees of all their favorite relatives. That’s not a problem in a group of just a hundred and fifty. I drove a long way, and I wasn’t about to leave until everyone who wanted a drawing got one. Or six.

The couple

  

Caricatures at a Company Picnic

As much as I love doing oil paintings at weddings, every time I get a caricature gig, I wonder why I don’t do this more often. There’s nothing I love drawing  more— or painting— than people.

This was a fun gig, because of the people who make up the company, which produces well known games for every digital platform. They’re young, smart, hip, and wear a wide variety of facial hair. Just reading their tee shirts requires some thought. And, of course, they brought some kids.

Wedding Proposal at Sam Day Studio, August 29, 2013

Sometimes the simplest jobs are the sweetest. This client brought his girlfriend in to the studio to have their caricatures done, and when they left, she was his fiancé. It was all prearranged, of course, and it happened just as planned. After drawing their faces, the last thing I drew was his body down on one knee, and then his hand presenting the ring, which he pulled out of his pocket just as her face showed that she suddenly understood what was happening. 

The Klein-Susinno Wedding at the Salish Lodge, Snoqualmie Falls

On Sunday, October 23, 2011, I was pleased to be invited to draw caricatures at the Klein-Susinno Wedding, held at the Salish Lodge,

Snoqualmie, Washington. The lodge sits atop the roaring 268 foot Snoqualmie Falls, and was made famous in the television series Twin Peaks.

I don’t do caricatures nearly as often as I used to. The live wedding paintings pay better, of course, because the couple is getting a work of art that can last for generations. But caricatures are an affordable alternative for the client, and a valuable wedding favor for the guests to take home.

And I truly love doing them. I never tire of drawing or painting faces. I love seeking out the personality of the sitter; it often manifests in a single brush stroke as they flash that smile they were hiding, or as they raise an eyebrow or smirk at the reaction of their friends to my drawing in progress. I love the family resemblances and variations I see, from grandparents to grandchildren. I love the subtle differences unique to every ethnicity (in this case German and Italian) that sits before me. These particular families were full of confident personalities, and I was able to caricature them honestly and playfully without being disrespectful or disparaging.

Of course, throughout the years I’ve drawn many people who were more reserved and anxious about how I might portray them. There are always people who ask me to make them thinner, or omit a double chin, or downsize a nose. At every caricature gig, I find myself repeating, for the nervous, the mantra that I always make the women look like movie stars. I then joke that the men get what they have coming to them. But the truth is I try not to offend anyone. I subscribe to Al Hirschfeld’s philosophy that caricatures never need to be insulting, because everyone has an interesting face.

Voila! Wedding Show, Woodmark Hotel, Yacht Club and Spa, Carillon Point, Kirkland, Washington, March 28, 2010

In one respect, it can be harder to compose a painting at these shows than at a wedding. That is, there’s no client and no prioritized group of people who need to be in the painting. In many trade shows, I end up painting from a booth in a long row of other vendors, and I struggle to find an important focal point to be main visual interest in the picture. Fortunately, this show was divided into several more or less intimate rooms. This one was called the Winter Room, and had a great central display that, pictorially, defines what we were doing there: selling to brides.

I rarely paint service people in commissioned pieces, and if I do, I limit it to one and keep it subdued. But this is a demo painting, and it seemed to me that service is what the business is all about. Having made that decision, I loved the ethnic variation of the workers; the face of an African, an Indonesian.

Painting the harpist was a joy. But had I known there was a string trio coming later, I would have scooted the harpist over to make room to paint them all in.