Solemn Look-1

Solemn Look-1

A charcoal portrait of a young woman, Solemn Look-1

Solemn Look-1 came about after a series of long, intimate hours spent with my model, a young woman who graciously agreed to sit for me over the course of two three-hour sessions. To draw a person is an act of stillness, it’s a rare, intense moment of connection where the model is frozen in time, yet the artist moves and shifts, their hand constantly in motion, recording the fleeting, complex nature of the human form.

There is something uniquely intimate about portraiture, specially in charcoal, because it’s not simply the physical likeness of the subject that’s being captured, but something more elusive, a reflection of their inner life, their personality, and the moment they are experiencing.

I had the paper taped firmly to a large board, the A1 size feeling enormous against the small confines of my workspace. I remember how the space around me felt, silent, save for the occasional scratch of charcoal against the surface. There was a certain stillness in the room that I found comforting, even though the act of drawing itself was anything but still. Every stroke, every smudge was a deliberate act of observation, an effort to really understand the way light fell across her face, the way her eyes held that quiet intensity.

The model in Solemn Look-1 sat so perfectly still, so composed, but there was a subtle tension in her expression that I found fascinating. I wanted to capture that, capture not only the surface likeness of her features, but something deeper that lay just beneath the skin.

The model had a quiet grace about her, an understated elegance that made her the perfect subject for this kind of drawing. Charcoal is a medium that demands boldness, but it also rewards subtlety. I wanted to show her not in some exaggerated or theatrical pose, but as she truly was, composed, thoughtful, and quiet, with an undercurrent of something more complex beneath her calm exterior.

There was a certain solemnity to her expression that was hard to describe but unmistakable to see, a stillness in the way she looked at me from beneath slightly lowered eyelids. It was that very quiet intensity that I wanted to capture, the way her eyes seemed to hold a story, yet refused to tell it fully. Charcoal, with its stark contrasts and its ability to create deep shadows, seemed like the perfect medium to evoke that sense of mystery.

The process itself was intense. Each of the two sittings was a full three hours long, and by the end, my fingers and palms were stained black with charcoal. It was a visceral, almost primal experience. I would begin by loosely sketching the contours of her face, the lines of her cheekbones, the curve of her jaw, and the shape of her lips. But with charcoal, nothing is ever set in stone, there’s always room to change, to push, to redefine the marks as the drawing evolves. The model would shift slightly from time to time, adjusting her posture or blinking, but there was never a major interruption to the flow.

The stillness the model in Solemn Look-1 exuded made it easy to remain immersed in the task at hand, even though the passage of time felt both slow and quick at once. Three hours seemed to fly by, even as I worked with absolute concentration. The rhythm of the charcoal on the paper became hypnotic, almost meditative, and I could feel the connection between the act of drawing and the experience of simply being in the moment.

Charcoal has always been one of my favourite mediums, despite its chaotic nature. It’s raw, it’s tactile, and it’s messy, qualities that many shy away from, but which I find incredibly freeing. There’s something deeply primal about the way charcoal works. Unlike other mediums that may be neat or controlled, charcoal forces you to embrace its unpredictability. It’s a medium that demands confidence, but also rewards vulnerability.

The marks you make, the smudges you create, and the pressure you apply all leave an imprint on the paper, not just of the subject, but of your emotional state, your movements, and your very energy at that moment in time.

Every time I pick up a stick of charcoal, it’s like I’m entering into a conversation with the paper, a back-and-forth dialogue that might begin in the most unremarkable way, but that ultimately leads to something surprising and profound. I find that it brings out a certain kind of instinctual drawing in me, and there’s little room for hesitation. You cannot be tentative with charcoal, its dark, smudgy, and fluid nature demands commitment, yet gives you the freedom to make mistakes and correct them as you go.

In this way, it is a medium full of possibilities, an unpredictable partner in the creative process.

There is a particular quality to charcoal that I find fascinating, the way it can be both soft and harsh at once. It can glide smoothly across the paper, creating soft, subtle gradients of light and shadow, but it can also be dragged and pressed hard to create bold, dark lines that cut through the softness. That contrast became essential to capturing the essence of my model in Solemn Look-1, the lightness of her skin and the deep shadows in the hollows of her face.

The challenge, of course, was to achieve balance. Too much dark could overpower the softness of her features, too much light would make her look flat. The trick, as I saw it, was to play between the two, letting one emerge and recede, pushing the form into something three-dimensional and alive.

One of the most gratifying aspects of working with charcoal is its unpredictability. The way the smudges take on a life of their own, the way the paper absorbs the marks and transforms them over time. Unlike pencils or pens, which can be controlled with precision, charcoal has a way of blending into the texture of the paper. I would often rub my fingers or a cloth over the surface, softening edges, building up depth, and allowing the drawing to emerge from the chaos of marks.

It was a process of discovery, never truly knowing what would emerge, but trusting that the marks I was making would eventually reveal the image I sought. This unpredictable nature of charcoal mirrors the human form itself, there’s always an element of mystery, of something waiting to be uncovered.

There were moments of pure frustration, of course. When a mark went wrong, when a shadow became too heavy, when a line didn’t quite match the reference. But that, too, was part of the beauty of charcoal, it invites you to take risks, to make mistakes, and to accept imperfection. Often, I would take a cloth or my hand and smudge a section out completely, erasing my mistakes and starting fresh. In that sense, the medium taught me the power of resilience.

I didn’t need to get it right immediately, I could keep working until the image was as I wanted it to be. It was a conversation between me, the medium, and the model, a dialogue that took time, patience, and an openness to change.

As the hours passed, the portrait began to take shape. The model’s features emerged with more clarity, her eyes becoming more alive, her lips more defined. But there was something more, something intangible, that I was capturing in the lines and the shadows. A sense of presence, of quiet strength, of a story half-told.

I could see in her the balance of vulnerability and power, of stillness and complexity. And as I worked, I realized that the drawing was no longer just a portrait, it was a reflection of the connection we had built during those three hours.

When Solemn Look-1 was finally complete, I stepped back and studied it carefully. It wasn’t perfect, there were areas where the shadows were a bit too heavy, or the contrast not quite right, but it felt true to the moment. It felt real. The raw, expressive quality of charcoal allowed me to capture not just the likeness of her face, but something of her spirit, her quiet energy, and the unspoken emotions she carried in her gaze.

Working in charcoal, no matter how messy or chaotic it may seem, is ultimately an act of trust. Trusting the process, trusting the medium, and trusting the connection with the model. And for me, this portrait of a young woman with a solemn look will always be a reminder of that beautiful balance between control and surrender, between the mess and the masterpiece.

Please note that we no longer accept charcoal commissions. However, you can commission a custom art piece from our other art and album sections in your choice of colour (subject to availability). Each piece is thoughtfully created, ensuring no two are ever the same, just like the moments they capture. This process fosters a meaningful connection between the artist and the patron, highlighting the uniqueness of each individual’s journey through time.

Commissions Form The more information you provide, the better we can tailor the piece to your vision. Please note that commissions typically take between 2 to 6 weeks to complete.

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Check out my other works here at https://lyn-5818.canvy.art/