You’re clearly drawn to people who’ve really committed themselves to what they do — do you see any parallels between their dedication and your own way of working?

Absolutely. I think it is partly what draws me to people and portraiture. We all have passions and things that light the fire inside us, and I find observing and appreciating those that really excel in their field and push their ability to achieve incredible things, genuinely interesting.

I want to create a portrait that people can connect with and hopefully relate to, and in turn I want something I can connect with in the creation phase, connecting with both the subject themselves and the end result of my work.

When you’re choosing such a well-known figure to portray, how do you decide which moment or version of them feels right?

It really depends. First and foremost, I want the outcome to be recognisable and relatable. Whatever reference images I use, I need to feel confident that they will translate effectively into the medium I’m working in.

Beyond that, several factors come into play. The subject might be a contemporary figure who is currently in the public eye, or someone from a bygone era who is no longer with us. I also consider how they are best known: were they recognised primarily for being themselves, perhaps as a champion from the world of sport, or for inhabiting a persona, like many figures from film and television? Did they have one defining moment they are remembered for, or did they come to represent an entire era?

All of these considerations inform my decision-making, but there is no formulaic approach. A modern footballer doesn’t automatically lead to one specific idea, just as a classic Hollywood actor doesn’t dictate another—these are simply some of the questions I work through when choosing how to portray a figure.

A lot of your work sits in that space between success and vulnerability — what is it about those moments that interests you?

I agree that my work does sit in this space. But I don’t think there is much space ‘between’ success and vulnerability; I see them as quite close to one another in reality. I think that when someone is on the verge of success, having given their all and committed a huge amount of their being to achieve or deliver on something monumental, this can be when they are at their most vulnerable. Vulnerability is a fundamental human experience and something that everyone will undoubtedly feel during their lives. Exploring this helps me to make art that feels emotionally layered and the potential to connect with the audience on a deeper level. Rather than existing as simply an image on a canvas.

At what point does a portrait stop being about a famous face and start becoming your version of them?

I really like this question, but it’s a tricky one to answer. While I always aim to put my own stamp on any piece I make, the transition from a recognisable famous face to my version of that person isn’t something I consciously think about while painting. It undoubtedly happens at some point in the creative process, but it’s difficult to pinpoint exactly when.

Looking back at earlier portraits, I can see that some sit much closer to simply depicting a famous face. Being critical of my own work, I feel that those pieces sometimes lack the emotion and character I now strive for.

Experimenting with mark-making, colour, and contrast plays a key role in developing my version of a portrait, and this is something I’ve continued to refine over the years. Developing my own style is an ongoing process, and while I’ve seen clear progress in recent years, there is always room to grow and push how I make a portrait truly my own.

Because these figures are so widely photographed, how do you approach making something that feels fresh rather than familiar?

As mentioned earlier, I like to experiment with mark-making, contrast, and colour, as well as placing my portraits within vibrant and sometimes conceptual backgrounds. These elements help me move away from familiar photographic representations and create something that feels fresh.

Photography is a powerful art form that I greatly admire, but I’ve never wanted my paintings to replicate a photograph. While I aim for my portraits to remain realistic and recognisable, I’m not drawn to photo-realism. Instead, I lean into expressive marks and contrast.

Painting allows for experimentation and adjustment throughout the process, and the imperfections that emerge can introduce emotion and reveal aspects of a subject’s personality that aren’t always captured in a single photographic moment. This is what helps set my work apart and keeps it engaging for the viewer.

Pressure and performance seem to come up a lot in your work — how do those ideas influence the way you approach a portrait?

I think this links to the earlier questions in some ways. Being under intense pressure—particularly when success is expected and the world is watching—can bring out very real, raw emotion in people. That moment of vulnerability is what I’m most interested in capturing, as it often reveals why certain figures are so widely admired or idolised.

By focusing on these moments of pressure and performance, I hope to create portraits that feel emotionally honest and allow viewers to connect with the subject on a more human level.

What do you find most challenging about being an artist, beyond the work itself?

Knowing when a piece is complete! I remember being told at school that a piece of art is never finished, only complete. And that has stuck with me. As an artist, you’ll always feel like there’s something more you can add to a piece. But working out when enough is enough and the overall composition finally delivers everything you want it to can be tricky.