"Portrait of James Lord" by Alberto Giacometti. 1964. Oil on canvas, 45 5/8 x 31 7/8 in.

In my last spring semester of school, I lucked out big time by getting a very awesome professor for my advanced figure drawing class. Professor Kelley made me love figure drawing again—no easy feat, considering I almost swore off figure drawing after a heinous intermediate class. I feel like I improved more in one semester than I had in the past several years, and I gained a lot of confidence in my artistic abilities as a result. Besides being an amazing teacher, Professor Kelley was also, apparently, an expert at reading people because she gave me what will probably be the most perfect book recommendation I will ever receive in my entire life—A Giacometti Portrait by James Lord. I don’t think that recommendation could have possibly been any more timely as it was just what I needed to help put my “artist identity crisis” into perspective. I was immediately engrossed after reading just the first few pages, and when I did finally put the book down, it felt like my entire outlook on art and life had changed.

A Giacometti Portrait chronicles the author’s experience of having his portrait painted by Alberto Giacometti and his observations regarding the artist and his working-method. What initially starts off as a one-day sitting quickly snowballs in an eighteen-day saga of creation and destruction. The author offers his take on the artistic process from both the perspective of being an art model and as a dear friend of the artist. Lord wasn’t just a passive participant but was instead deeply invested in the progress of the work. As the sessions go on, the author begins to be able to discern when things are going poorly based merely on what kind of brush Giacometti uses or what kind of gestures he sees the artist making. At one point, Lord contemplates leaving early to prevent Giacometti from altering the painting anymore after he reaches a point that the author, Annette (Giacometti’s wife) and Diego (Giacometti’s brother) deem perfection. Of course, the artist doesn’t share their sentiments and presses onward—despite the risk of completely undoing all of his previous work. It’s interesting to see how deeply Giacometti’s moods affected Lord, as the author’s own emotions were often a reflection of what the artist was going through. I’m sure most of us have wondered, at one point or another, what exactly goes through the model’s head during the art-making process, and Lord provides a lengthy account of just that.

While Lord’s insight and observations make for a compelling read, what cemented its place as The Most Perfect Book Recommendation Of All Time were Giacometti’s own words regarding the act of creating. For the artist, making work was equal parts joy and utter agony, and it was, unsurprisingly, his anguished outbursts that really struck a chord with me. It was oddly comforting to learn that a famous, veteran artist was riddled with the same kinds of doubts and frustrations that were plaguing me at that very moment (and, well, still continue to do so). At times I felt like I was reading a transcript of my own thoughts and remarks—especially when Giacometti would become so agitated that he exclaimed he wanted to give up painting forever or how he wished he could just get someone else to paint for him. I also had to laugh at the artist’s interactions between his friends and loved ones. Their arguments and discussions felt all too familiar, and my own long-suffering friends and family would be empathetic to their plight.

A Giacometti Portrait is truly a pleasure to read. Lord’s writing style is fluid and witty; he provides a sincere portrayal of the artist and his studio practice without pretense or dramatization. It is a fascinating look at the psychology behind creating art and well worth reading even if you don’t readily identify with Giacometti’s artistic struggles. It’s a fantastic addition to any artist’s library and, as an added bonus, the paperback edition won’t cost you more than a little pocket change. As a teaser, I have highlighted some of my favorite passages from the book below. Please to enjoy.

“We can’t stop now. I thought I’d stop when it was going well. But now it’s going very badly. It’s too late. We can’t stop now.” — Page 9 of A Giacometti Portrait

“…I’ll tell you what: I’m going to work on this picture for another day or two, and if it doesn’t turn out to be any good I’ll give up painting forever.” — Page 13 of  A Giacometti Portrait

“If I could find someone else,” he said, “to do it exactly the way I want it, then I’d be able to stop forever.” — Page 53 of A Giacometti Portrait