On painting a portrait, British contemporary artist David Cobley once wrote: ‘What an absurd idea to try and distil a human being, the most complex organism on the planet, into flicks, washes, and blobs of paint on a two-dimensional surface.’ While a little less complex, perhaps, the same could be said of our homes. More than four walls and a roof, they too contain a wealth of emotion, memory, and story. For house portrait artists, just as with human portraiture, the task is not merely to depict likeness, but to also somehow express the ephemeral qualities that time and daily life have impressed upon a building–qualities that make it feel worthy of immortalisation in ink and paint.
Unlike the interiors portrait, which rose to popularity in the late 19th century, and the architectural sketch, the history of house portraiture is a little less clearly documented. However, contemporary house portraiture appears to have inherited much of its sensibility from these earlier traditions especially in regards to the motivation for commissioning one. If in the Victorian era, the idea of home became increasingly seen as a moral and social symbol essential to one’s identity, it's a sentiment that has endured. If interiors portraiture whispered of the private life and signalled taste, and the architectural drawing boasted of technical skill, the modern house portrait seems to distill so much of the significance of the house into a romanticised and emblematic image.
For Chris Henton, who studied history at university before becoming interested in architecture, drawing is a way to learn about buildings and the relationships people have with them. ‘It forces you to slow down,’ he says. Chris, who creates intricate black and white drawings, feels his style invites people to take a closer look than they might normally. ‘You rarely look at the details of a chimney or something.’ It’s those idiosyncrasies of a building that worth capturing. ‘I like to focus on those details because that's where people have their attachment.’
Phoebe Dickinson, an artist renowned for her human portraiture, shares this mindset, and it inspires her to create works focused on certain architectural details. ‘When it comes to houses, I really like zooming in on little charming details like a back door with roses growing around it or a window with wisteria around it,’ she says. She refers to her works depicting the exteriors of houses as landscapes, deeply drawn as she is to any details that hint at the natural landscape in which she enjoys painting. Doorways, gates and windows are also often where the sentiment that draws a person to commission a portrait in the first place lies. ‘Someone will give it to their wife for an anniversary present or children will give it to their mother for a 60th birthday present because these doorways and windows and gardens are so loved and tended to by the people that own them,’ says Phoebe.
Milestones such as first homes scrimped and saved for, wedding anniversaries, an empty nest, or big life changes such as the loss of a home, are the sorts of events which spur the commissioning of a house portrait, commemorating years lived within or anticipating those years to come. ‘I think the first house portrait I did was for my sister and it was for her first house in York,’ says Chris. ‘That was the first time I gave something as a gift and could see it resonated and had meaning behind it.’ But if personal memory explains one facet of the draw towards house portraiture, historicity is another.
Recalling being commissioned to depict a Georgian mansion, Lincolnshire-based artist Debra Baker recalls the sense of honour she felt to discover her work hanging above the fireplace of this house with ‘oodles and oodles of history’. Such commissions emphasise the artist as a documentarian, Debra feels: ‘You’re definitely getting their history down on paper.’
But what is also so intriguing about the art of modern house portraiture, is how complex its relationship with history and memory actually is. The commissioning process, several of the artists I spoke to reveal, often involves conversations about what to include and what to omit. Drainpipes and conspicuous tv aerials can go, pets and favourite classic cars can be added, all without the tricky sense of deception that editing a photograph in such a manner might engender.
On why someone might commission a painted image of their house, rather than a professional photograph, architectural artist and illustrator Chris Fothergill says: ‘I cannot speak for photography, but painting for me is a celebration of the subject before my eyes.’ Chris, who is based in Great Malvern and works in watercolour, feels, ‘if the wisteria is in bloom, then I will make sure it looks its best. The sun will shine, a dog may be lazing in the porch, the roses may well be in flower and the trees in leaf at the same time as the wisteria, if that is what the client would like to see.’ Artistic license is an opportunity to convey the ‘emotional response’ to the house, while remaining faithful, as an architectural illustrator, to perspective.
For celebrated house portrait artist Eli Ofir, who has been commissioned to portray places such as Anne Boleyn's childhood home Hever Castle, that the ability to openly take creative license is also what helps differentiate house portraits from photographs of houses. Eli draws freehand, injecting further character with his ‘wobbly’ portraits. Where artistic license can help further romanticise a personal home, Eli uses it to bring history to life. He is known for his Then and Now series: ‘I draw the house it is today but then I draw a whole scenario of how it used to be’. In his works one can see the architectural differences over time, the evolution of a thatched cottage or an oast house, for example and imagine who might have lived or worked there.
Ultimately, this blend of history, memory and fantasy might be key to why house portraits endure in an age of photography. But in an age of digital art and, increasingly, AI, as Eli notes, the handmade process is particularly attractive. For Debra, the popularity of house portraits is a positive sign that people are still interested in heritage skills. ‘I think a lot of people do realize the amount of time that goes into them,’ she says, ‘and people appreciate that, that you took the time and put your energy into producing something purely for them.’ For Chris Fothergill, house portraits are accompanied by a sense of permanence that influences how he works on them. ‘With house portraits, the painting will be framed, and (hopefully!) proudly hung on display for many years,’ he says. ‘So, the house portrait has to be special, and I feel I always have to go the extra mile.’
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