A portrait of my daughter started in 2012 sat waiting to be finished.
Ten years later, I was finally ready.

It was the very first portrait of my daughter I ever attempted. Then a charming 10-year-old, Betsy had been taking piano lessons and performing recitals by 2012. I wanted to capture this fleeting moment in my daughter’s life, and she agreed to pose for me. Betsy opened her music to a practice piece called “Cathedral in the Rain”. I took several reference photos of her playing, carefully positioning the camera at her eye level.

I adjusted the lighting for dramatic effect, using just a floor lamp to the right of the piano, and a small brass piano lamp to light the scene. Things looked promising.

Choosing a big canvas for the work, I launched into the portrait with enthusiasm. The underpainting was too tight and hard-edged for my liking, but the overall composition was pleasing. Yet it was at this point that I set the painting aside.

I admit that I am a notorious procrastinator. However, this project goes way beyond procrastination. To be honest, when I stopped work on the painting in April 2012, I was discouraged. I realized I wasn’t ready to paint it the way it deserved to be painted. I needed to learn more. So, I set it aside, in the family room downstairs behind the pool table.
There it stayed for a decade.

I moved on to other projects. But Young Betsy was always in the back of my mind, patiently waiting.

The demanding art of portraiture is a subject out of my comfort zone. I have always admired the portrait work of masters like John Singer Sargent, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, and Joaquín Sorolla. In doing so, I probably set the bar a little too high for myself.

Back in 2012, I was inspired by one of the works of Renoir, a portrait called, “The Woman at the Piano”, painted in 1876. Renoir painted several ‘repetitions’ of this theme, from around 1875 until 1892.

I did not attempt another portrait until 2014, when I painted “Shaved Ice” and “Sunlight in a Coffee Shop” in 2015, works which also featured my daughter. “Sunlight in a Coffee Shop” was selected for the Iowa State Fair Fine Arts competition. It did not win that year, but it got in, and that was something.

So it was on one of the coldest days in January of 2022, when I was looking for something to paint, that I came across the unfinished canvas of Young Betsy. I decided the time had come.

After 10 years, I had learned to work with a limited palette. I had gained more confidence in my style of realism, and being able to capture light. I had learned to mix colors to a degree where I could match any color necessary. I had even completed several other portraits of Betsy, finishing 2 in 2020, the year she graduated from high school. I felt I was finally ready to complete the work.

Granted, I still have a lot to learn as a painter. I am not a master portrait artist—not even close—nor have I ever taken a portrait painting course. In this genre, I am completely self-taught. This is far from my best work—parts of it are overworked and over-blended. But even after all that, I am still fairly pleased with what I have created. More importantly, it is a better painting than if I had finished it 10 years ago.

Perhaps I could have abandoned this portrait altogether. Other artists might have destroyed their work, rather than create a painting that didn’t live up to their expectations. But I wasn’t about to do that. When I started this painting in 2012, I simply didn’t have the skills to complete it the way I wanted.

But then I remembered what I once would have given for this moment, and I went back to my easel. And I finished the portrait as though I were another person, someone I will never be again.

What do I like most about this painting? Betsy’s hair. It’s not perfectly rendered, but there is beauty in it’s imperfection that verges on visual poetry. The work is neither Sargent nor Sorolla—it’s definitely not Renoir—yet I believe it captures my daughter’s grace, strength and beauty in a way that I could not have captured in 2012.

I added a few other elements, such as the plant stand (an antique refinished by my brother-in-law, Danny) and the small bouquet of roses in the glass vase, using chiaroscuro techniques to make them appear from the darkness. The high-back dining chair helps to frame the scene. But those elements are just window dressing for the main attraction: Betsy in her beautiful dress and those cascading, inextricable golden locks.

During this era of pandemics, rumors of wars and a world of uncertainties, it was life-affirming to create a work of art that features refinement, music and hope for the future, not to mention my beautiful daughter. I didn’t know how beautiful or accomplished my daughter would become 10 years later. Though she stopped playing the piano years ago, today Betsy is a charming 20-year-old, and an honors student at Iowa State University.

There is something magical about painting a portrait of someone you love and admire. You can see that love and admiration in every brushstroke. I hope Betsy can see that in the works I have created of her. And in another 10 years, I would hope that my paintings would be even better than those I am painting today.

Yes, it took 10 years. But in that time, I learned what I needed to learn to make a successful painting. Similar to this one, I have a few other paintings that have been waiting for me to finish.

So, what is to be learned from this? Sometimes, the best way to move forward is to go back and finish what you started.