Dr Robert Kendell 2000

Oil on Linen 24 x 48 "

Commissioned by the Royal College of Pscyhiatrists 2000

The location for the painting was 17 Belgrave Square SW1

Bob Kendell was a brilliant psychiatrist who made major contributions to the diagnosis of mental illness.

His green book on drugs is featured on the mantelpiece.

"Now here was a strange power dynamic - I was the one being analyzed instead of the other way round or this is how I perceived it. Maybe we were analysing each other? I deliberately took a low view point so the subject is looking down at me. I wanted to paint Roberts eyes as I perceived them at the time... black orbs that looked right into the centre of me. There are deliberately no specular highlights on the eyes. With both our roles in mind, I wanted this portrait to be psychological and about the power of the gaze."

One of a series of academic portraits painted for Royal colleges and institutions in London between 1997-2002.

These paintings are viewable online at ArtUk.org

On permanent display at The Royal College of Psychiatrists, 21 Prescot Street London E1

"Robert Kendell has got both his elbows on the mantlepiece, and that is quite unusual. Sometimes you see people resting on one elbow, but for some reason, Bob put both his elbows on the mantlepiece. And as soon as he did it, I thought: ‘That’s it!’ It’s chance things that happen. And when you're an artist you have to be there to record these chance moments.

I want to capture a moment, but not a photographic moment, a portrait moment, which is different. When you have your portrait painted, it is a bit like freezing time or just appreciating time for what it is in the current moment. It’s like a crystallization of life in a way. It's a process. It's a conversation. It's a collaboration, 50/50, so there's something of me that goes into the painting, and something of the subject in an equal measure. I don't expect people to sit there for hours on end, like an apple on the table. To me, that's not what life is. It's about moments and it's about capturing someone in the best kind of light in whatever means is suitable to yourself.

I put myself in the position of the subject. I would want to be depicted in a certain way, probably in my best light, but also a truthful light. So there's no kind of whitewashing: the Cromwell quote, ‘paint me, warts and all’ kind of thing. There's no ‘airbrushing’, for want of a better word.

I was conscious that this is a psychiatrist. I'm now in a position where the roles are reversed because, in a way, being a portrait artist is a very intimate thing. It's a unique position, almost like a father confessor, if in reference to the clergy. And it's two people that analyse people in different ways coming together, for different reasons, but both of them are about unravelling something, finding clues, and working things out, a positive goal for both.

I remember looking at different viewpoints, because when you paint somebody, the eyeline is everything. In this case, I lowered my position, putting my elbow on the ground and being really low, and taking images from a low angle, and that's what the angle is here, and Robert was looking down at me as I was taking the pictures. That's how I work: I take lots of photographs as well as painting in situ. And he was kind of looking at me thinking: ‘What the hell is he doing 'cause he's crawling around on the floor!?’

When I looked at all the images, I quite liked that quizzical expression. It’s good humoured, and it’s very accommodating. I think it was partly my phobias about being analysed myself. I was thinking at the time about the role of the patient and the role of the psychiatrist. I came to it feeling a bit like a patient. And I think that's reflected in the pose and the gaze and everything. I deliberately didn't put any highlights on his eyes. I wanted his eyes to be almost penetrating—like black balls—just looking into my soul. There's a slight reflection on that one. That was how I felt at the time: I was being stared into. It’s a very penetrating gaze. The gaze is very important in this painting.

I love open fires. There’s something very cosy and I think people relax more when they're by a fire. There’s something kind of magnetic about it. It's primitive actually. Even though the fire in this case is not lit, it's a symbol of the potential of something. The portrait is not only of Bob Kendell, but it also documents the previous College building in Belgrave Square. I love mirrors in paintings, so there's a mirror above Bob’s head. Everything in a painting is considered, even if it looks like a chance thing. I like the fact that the gap between the curtains looks a bit like a party hat or something. It looks like it's sitting on his head so it's a bit of an optical or a visual joke.

It’s sort of celebratory in a way: you have Christmas, and everybody puts hats on. I like to infuse things with a bit of humour, even if you don't notice it. I think it all goes in subliminally. I don't think he was aware of me doing that. But it's not intrusive, it's just a thing in the background that's quite nice. I like shapes and pictures - that's a bit like a triangle. There's a sort of semi-circle in the light on the top left. There are the squares in the mantlepiece.

Bob Kendall had written a book about drugs. It was kind of personal to me because my brother had drug issues. He died when he was 27. I was conscious of that, and about Bob’s role in dealing with drugs and having a connection with government to try to change things for the better. And I thought that was brilliant, and that it could be suggested in the painting, in a very subtle way. So that's what that green book is on the on the mantelpiece. It’s a sort of non-literal nod to his opus of what he achieved in his life. It's a really lovely detail because it's important for him, but it’s also important for me, with my brother. It’s a personal thing. I'll always put little things in that are personal clues. Sometimes they get found, sometimes they don’t."

Interview date: November 2022 Interviewer and transcriber: Catriona Grant