For centuries artists have been inspired by models, and the same person can appear in many of their artworks. Andrew Wyeth had Helga. Diego Rivera had Frida Kahlo, to name just a few. It isn’t always beauty that inspires an artist but an indefinable “something” that draws an artist to want to paint the same person repeatedly. I found a combination of that “something” as well as beauty in 2016. And in the six years since then, I have done more than 100 paintings of her.

Rainy Daydream, oil, 12 x 24" (30 x 60 cm)

 

When my wife, Julie, and I attended a play that year, we met a lovely young lady working at a playhouse theater. I was immediately struck by her big smile and upbeat attitude. I thought she would be perfect for a series I had just started working on called Retro Cowgirls. I gave her a card and told her I hoped she would consider modeling for me.

Before we got home, I had an email from Hannah Collman stating that she would be happy to give it a try, though she had no experience. At that first photo session, I learned that she had been an art and a theater major at Dartmouth College. This, I came to believe, led to her being such an excellent model. As an art major, she understood what I was looking for and no doubt had taken figure drawing classes to become aware of poses. As a theater major she likely had lost the shyness of “performing” and so could relax and feel comfortable. Most of my models were new to the work and often were tense—and their poses showed it.

Blue Kimono, oil, 18 x 14" (45 x 35 cm)

 

The Aviatrix, oil, 30 x 20" (76 x 50 cm)

 

I asked Hannah to pose with most of her weight on one leg, and she not only got it immediately, but also knew the pose was called “contrapposto” an Italian term meaning counterpoise where one hip and often the shoulders are off axis. The majority of my models cannot correctly assume this pose when asked, even if they do it naturally beforehand.

The greatest realization for me came a few sessions later when she was in a seated pose. I asked her to put her hand on the back of the chair, and as it went there, she held it in a delicate and graceful manner that I had been trying to get models to assume for a long time. It hadn’t seemed that difficult, but none were able to do it correctly. And if I tried to gently place their fingers in this pose, it felt like manipulating a hand in rigor mortis. Hannah did it without even being asked and as she did, I was so happy that the hair on my arms stood up. Finally, someone got it! It wasn’t long before Hannah felt comfortable enough to offer suggestions for poses, and often they were better than what I had considered. She was one of only two models to ever do this. And so, she became an excellent and welcome collaborator.

The Girl from the Theater, oil, 10 x 8" (25 x 20 cm)

 

The Secret Life of Swans, oil, 15 x 24" (38 x 60 cm)

 

Generally I worked from photos I would take, but at one point, I hosted a group to paint from a live model. Hannah agreed to be the model and impressed us all by not only locking into and holding a pose easily, but also perfectly resuming that pose after each break. She needed no coaching to move slightly this way or that. Modeling live is much more difficult than the constant shifting for a camera, but it was no challenge for her.

Each time I had an idea for a painting, Hannah was the first to come to mind as I knew she could do it better than anyone else with whom I was acquainted. Whatever persona I asked her to assume for these paintings, she was able to fully get into it, whether it was retro cowgirl, circus ring leader, aviatrix, girl next door, pinup girl, siren, Goddess of Time, Hollywood glamour girl or femme fatale. At one point, I found a gold floor-length dress that looked straight out of a film noir movie from the ’40s. When she stepped out of the dressing room, she was every bit as glamorous as Ava Gardner or Veronica Lake. She was a star! I don’t know if this, like other outfits, made her automatically “assume” the role. But she always had a knack for having the right pose, the right attitude and exactly the right look. And she’d been practicing those hair and makeup styles again.

When I mentioned that I had an idea to paint her as a circus ringmaster in front of an old poster, I was surprised at her excitement. It had been one of her goals to lead a children’s circus. With this in mind, I decided to make the poster an H. Collman Production as a tribute to her and the date, April 26, was a nod to the night we had first met her at the theater.

She was also the perfect choice when I needed a model to paint for a project I had in mind for the nose of a B-17 bomber being restored in California. When I mentioned it to her, she was all in and even practiced doing hairstyles a couple nights before the photoshoot so she could get it right. No one else had ever shown such dedication when modeling before. And, like every other idea I presented to her, she nailed it!

Stripes, oil, 30 x 20" (76 x 50 cm)

 

Pickadilly Hannah, oil, 24 x 24" (60 x 60 cm)

 

I had had an early aviator’s helmet for years and found a great jacket for her to wear with it. The shoulder patch was attained and glued down. I wanted to have her hold a model plane so I searched eBay for a suitable one. Once I got it, I assembled it, painted it and handed it to her. This, in her opinion, best represented the person she wants to be—an adventurous, strong woman—and I suspect it may be her favorite of all the paintings I have done of her. And along the way, I did a lot of head studies of her, as she was so good at getting just the right turn of the head or the slight lifting of an eyebrow. Sometimes a shy look, other times proud, sometimes innocent or dangerous, but always interesting.

In total, we had 14 photo sessions before she and her husband moved to Oregon, but thankfully, those shoots netted perhaps as many as 14,000 photos from which I could continue to paint for years. Many other artists have found a muse that inspires them for years and so often, it is known or assumed that the artist and model had an affair. Our relationship, however, was always strictly a professional one, and this leads me to another point. I am very grateful to have a loving and understanding wife who “gets it”—that I can be inspired by someone without falling in love with them.

Recently, I put together a book of all of these paintings and made just two copies, one for Hannah and one for myself. Since then, I have found that there is enough interest that I have made Painting Hannah available through Blurb, the company who printed it.

Circus Girl, oil, 24 x 18" (60 x 45 cm)

 

From the first photo session, I have always been grateful to Hannah and all her contributions. As I told her, artists thrive on inspiration. It is like high-octane fuel. I know that what she brought to these sessions made my ideas and paintings better. Of the paintings I consider my best since 2016 (and most of the paintings that have garnered some kind of national attention) are paintings of her.

Hannah was easily the best model I have ever used and together with her constantly cheerful attitude and knack for collaboration, it is unlikely that I will ever find another like her. Almost certainly I will never paint one person 100 times again. And the paintings done of Hannah will not stop there. —