Throughout history, the human face has been an endless source of fascination and inspiration for artists and non-artists alike. Consequently, the challenge of creating something new and exciting in the popular, often abused, and (given the conceptual orientation of today's art scene) somewhat out-of-favor genre of realistic portraiture, would be difficult for most artists. Thus it comes as a delightful surprise that Vicki Walsh, a San Diego resident who received an MFA in painting from the San Francisco Art Institute in 2006, has produced for her first solo exhibition a body of work that is insightful and memorable.

The foundation of Walsh's skill and her knowledge of human anatomy are grounded in fifteen years experience as a forensic medical illustrator. (Walsh worked in the legal system, drawing the illustrations used for courtroom evidence in lawsuits involving accidents, medical malpractice, personal injury, etc.) She also illustrated two medical texts. However, that is only the beginning.

An important aspect of Walsh's paintings is her disdain for our culture's obsession with perfection, youth, and beauty. Whether male or female, the artist prefers models whose faces reflect the passage of time and the vicissitudes of life. The more wrinkles, jowls, creases, folds, birthmarks, moles, freckles, pimples, scars, errant hairs, misaligned and irregular features, and damage caused by substance abuse and exposure to the sun, the better. Working from photographs she takes herself, Walsh strives for flat lighting and instructs her models not to smile. "I don't want them pandering to the camera," she says. To ensure maximum authenticity, Walsh isn't above photographing her subjects from unflattering angles such as slightly below center, looking up their nostrils. All of this is pulled together by Walsh's hyperrealistic style which magnifies imperfection to a level that is as fascinating clinically as it is aesthetically.

Although art history is replete with artists who have rebelled against idealizing the human form [two modern artists who come immediately to mind are Larry Rivers (1923 - 2002) and Lucien Freud (b. 1922)], perhaps the best known comment on the subject was made by Oliver Cromwell. The English leader's famous instructions to the fashionable baroque portrait painter Peter Lely (1618 -1680) were: "I desire you would use all of your skill to paint your picture truly like me, and not flatter me at all; but remark all the roughness, pimples, warts and everything, otherwise I will never pay a farthing for it." Cromwell undoubtedly would have been impressed with Walsh's portraits.

As harsh and unflattering as Walsh's portraits are, she is hardest on herself. Nowhere is this more evident than in the artist's large and devastating self-portrait, My Self (2007), which dominates the exhibition in scale and power. In this steely-eyed, defiantly staring, mannish-looking image, Walsh portrays herself without makeup and looking every bit her age of fifty-one (although in person she looks much younger). It is the antithesis of popular notions about feminine beauty.

Among the most striking and quirky aspects of Walsh's exhibition is a series of sixteen portraits of men with bald or shaved heads (including the exhibition curator), and a pair of paintings depicting rear views of nude, overweight, and aging or elderly women. In creating the series of paintings of bald men, Walsh has moved from painting primarily family members, friends, and neighbors, to complete strangers drawn from all strata of society. The collective impact of this cross-section of humanity is extraordinary.

Walsh's backside views of overweight women are likely to challenge viewers more than other works in the exhibition. Indeed they are reminiscent of illustrations from medical texts on geriatrics or obesity. The sagging skin and prominent veins, especially on the elbows, is rendered in such a way that they look like bare bones, muscles, and vessels. As beautiful as it may be to an artist, the topography of the body at that stage of life, traditionally shunned or hidden in our society, becomes painfully apparent.

Realistic paintings like these require well-honed drawing skills that Walsh readily demonstrates in several graphite drawings included in this exhibition. The paintings related to these studies are also on display. The paint itself is applied using classic techniques inspired by Vermeer; dozens, sometimes hundreds, of layers of translucent oil glazes over drawings executed on gessoed birch panels.

Walsh's portraits may remind viewers of their own mortality, but the end results are rewarding. Her images seemingly delve beneath the surface, and, as some viewers have remarked, "They see into the person's soul."

Mark-Elliott Lugo
Curator, San Diego Public Library