Perfect Memory

It’s hard to believe that Till Freiwald‘s paintings aren’t photographs. It’s even harder to believe that he paints them purely from memory.

Freiwald sits with models and does several quick sketches. He memorizes every contour of the face, practicing for when the sitter is gone. Freiwald then takes as long as he needs — several months in some cases — to recreate the image. “Working from memory permits me to depict the main characteristics of a face,” he explains.

Maybe it does; it also allows him to forget the creases, pimples, visible pores and stray hairs that faces often carry. Each expressionless face in his mug-shot-like portraits, on display at the Kemper beginning this Friday, is more perfect than any real face could be. But the structural details — the rounded curve where a nose meets an eye, the shadow that bangs leave on a forehead — are utterly realistic.

As if to complicate his process, Freiwald uses the lowest caste of paint known to humankind: watercolor. Most people who use watercolors don’t know what they’re doing. Watercolor paint shows up at cheesy art fairs and in elementary-school classrooms, but most artists respected by galleries and museums opt to use something less drippy and more substantial.

“Watercolor is difficult to control,” Freiwald admits. “But I noticed that it is the most efficient means to portray the skin. It took some time to develop the technique.”

Freiwald’s intense focus on faces might imply that, for him, they reveal something profound about the people behind them. On the contrary, it seems as if he doesn’t care whom he paints. “Looking at people is a pleasure,” he says, “and there is a lot you can think about somebody’s face. But when I paint, I’m completely absorbed by trying to catch what I see.”