Several years ago, while attending an exhibit of John Singer Sargent paintings of society women with my mother, she turned and asked “Now why don’t you make paintings like these?” I replied to my greatest champion and critic, “for the same reason you don’t dress like them.”

I thought more deeply about this question, realizing that I paint to reflect my times and my life experiences. Having spent over 30 years in the practices of medicine and art, I have come to appreciate the dualities in life. What is health without disease or illness? Beauty without repulsion? Illness and disease hidden in sanitized hospitals creates isolation when in reality it is a collective experience for all of us.

Through my oil paintings, I strive to expose what is hidden in clear sight. I compare, contrast and confuse lovely with loathsome. I focus on the figure and portraiture, moving away from the traditional idealized portraiture toward the gritty, alarming or even playful.

I take long forgotten images, many from vintage medical textbooks and pair them with models in magazines or place brides on battle fields. When making portraits, I reject the traditional idealization of the subject’s appearances, offering the dualities in each and asking the viewer to examine them more deeply. I paint to speak to my time, to the contradictions and to possibly elevate the lost, lonely and undesirable.

Where does this leave my landscapes? Painting en plein air gives me the opportunity to experiment with paint and surfaces and forces immediate decision making. In a less apparent dichotomy, tranquil landscapes betray extreme temperatures, rapidly shifting light and swarms of insects in which these works are created.