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Henry #8 {art}
He is a whirlwind of emotion balanced so quietly on that hand; pride, anticipation, fear, relief all warring in equal measure.
This utterly indescribable expression is seen at the climax of the film; everything that comes after this moment is part of the denouement; the interrogation, the trial, even that heartbreaking final scene as they sing "Sympathy for the Abyss", it's all the downhill slide from this moment, in which Annette has the choice to either continue to be her mother's instrument of revenge, poisoning her father's soul one last time, or to use her own voice to tell the world what she saw him do. Henry, suddenly understanding what she's chosen, has this moment where he's silently processing the consequences of her choice, and while we wonder how he'll react.
His stoic public mask, maintained so meticulously until now, has fallen away completely; he's fighting to put it back on, the small muscles in his brow, along his nose, and in his cheeks twitching with the effort, but Henry is so overwhelmed by the force of his emotions that those muscles still pull up into this grimace, which is so strong it rumples the edges of his face right up past his temples and into his hair. If his hand weren't covering his mouth I think we'd have seen his chin and mouth quivering. Anyone who's ever had a moment where they needed to cry, but couldn't, and tried to hold it in, will know what this expression feels like.
Of course, people cry for all kinds of reasons, and not just because they're sad; crying can be associated with any strong emotion, much to my own, frequent, chagrin. And in Henry's case, I think it's a potent and conflicting mix of regret, fear, relief, and pride. Annette is about to speak with her own voice, not Ann's, not Henry's, not the Conductor's, for the very first time, and Henry knows those words, her first, independent words, spoken in front of a massive crowd, are going be used to damn him; to misquote that Styx song, he knows the jig is up, he's about to become a wanted man, and there's nothing he can do to stop it.
After this long moment, he makes his choice; Henry sits up, drops his hand, takes a deep breath in, and lets it out slowly, his face relaxing out of this rictus as he tilts his head to the side, exposing his neck, submitting to the fall of Annette's metaphorical ax.
And Adam tells that whole story; Henry's angst, fear, pride, relief, and his eventual submission to the fate awaiting him, all without using a single word.
Photo used for reference was a screencap of "Annette" taken by yours truly.
About 12 hours of painting time. Getting all of those crinkles and dimples just so took an age! The color in this one comes from 5 different color overlays and two color gradient maps; this is still a black and white painting underneath it all, which will always be a little bit magic to me.
This utterly indescribable expression is seen at the climax of the film; everything that comes after this moment is part of the denouement; the interrogation, the trial, even that heartbreaking final scene as they sing "Sympathy for the Abyss", it's all the downhill slide from this moment, in which Annette has the choice to either continue to be her mother's instrument of revenge, poisoning her father's soul one last time, or to use her own voice to tell the world what she saw him do. Henry, suddenly understanding what she's chosen, has this moment where he's silently processing the consequences of her choice, and while we wonder how he'll react.
His stoic public mask, maintained so meticulously until now, has fallen away completely; he's fighting to put it back on, the small muscles in his brow, along his nose, and in his cheeks twitching with the effort, but Henry is so overwhelmed by the force of his emotions that those muscles still pull up into this grimace, which is so strong it rumples the edges of his face right up past his temples and into his hair. If his hand weren't covering his mouth I think we'd have seen his chin and mouth quivering. Anyone who's ever had a moment where they needed to cry, but couldn't, and tried to hold it in, will know what this expression feels like.
Of course, people cry for all kinds of reasons, and not just because they're sad; crying can be associated with any strong emotion, much to my own, frequent, chagrin. And in Henry's case, I think it's a potent and conflicting mix of regret, fear, relief, and pride. Annette is about to speak with her own voice, not Ann's, not Henry's, not the Conductor's, for the very first time, and Henry knows those words, her first, independent words, spoken in front of a massive crowd, are going be used to damn him; to misquote that Styx song, he knows the jig is up, he's about to become a wanted man, and there's nothing he can do to stop it.
After this long moment, he makes his choice; Henry sits up, drops his hand, takes a deep breath in, and lets it out slowly, his face relaxing out of this rictus as he tilts his head to the side, exposing his neck, submitting to the fall of Annette's metaphorical ax.
And Adam tells that whole story; Henry's angst, fear, pride, relief, and his eventual submission to the fate awaiting him, all without using a single word.
Photo used for reference was a screencap of "Annette" taken by yours truly.
About 12 hours of painting time. Getting all of those crinkles and dimples just so took an age! The color in this one comes from 5 different color overlays and two color gradient maps; this is still a black and white painting underneath it all, which will always be a little bit magic to me.
