Kudos to the Kudus!
“Kudos to Kudus” (20”x16” acrylic)
I have just completed a commission (meaning, I was given “an order for the production of a work of art”) featuring a type of antelope called the greater kudu. My father wanted a painting created using reference photos he shot during his time in Zimbabwe (where, incidentally, I happened to be born).
The slides with which I was provided were somewhat grainy, but happily for me, the greater kudu hasn’t changed his stripes much in the past few decades. So, paired with some sharper, more recent photographs of the African antelope, I was able to get the additional detail I needed to ensure solid reference material so that I could add in detail that was missing from the slides. Consequently, I was able to produce a piece that maintained the foundational bits that appeared in my dad’s slides, without a great deal of alteration. I did add another greater kudu and a watering hole. Such adjustments are the painter’s version of visual poetic license, I suppose.
It was a tricky piece to paint – as commissions sometimes are. It’s easy for me to be motivated about an idea that comes out of my own imagination. Though lovely, these creatures (and the scene in which they found themselves) were not borne of my imagination. With commissions, there’s often a struggle to arrive at a solution that fits the client’s vision and satisfies my own creative preferences. If someone wants a painting of a greater kudu, I can’t paint a leopard in a tree and say “yeah, the kudus just weren’t doing it for me, but isn’t this leopard - that you didn’t even request - great?!”
Despite the usual ups and downs of the painting process, I have learned something of the greater kudu’s appearance. They are magnificent animals! And large! At their shoulders, males can be just a few inches shorter than my full height. They weigh between 264-787 pounds. And they can jump incredibly high – up to 11.48 feet. I find their spiralling antlers very intriguing. Their antlers only begin to grow (in males; females don’t have them) at about 6 months old, and only by age 2 do they achieve the first twist (of two) in their lovely head ornamentation. I found their white stripes really interesting because from a distance they look a bit like bird droppings have dripped down from their spines. Maybe such a thought was influenced by an image of a bird perched on the back of one.
All of this to say, until I began this piece, I knew nothing of the greater kudu. And now, though far, FAR, from being an expert on the species, I have a new awareness and appreciation for these handsome creatures. There is always something of merit to be found in a commission. The day that there is no silver lining to a difficult commission is the day I should think twice about accepting such a commission. If there’s no joy or discovery in creating it, I’m afraid it will be, at best, a pretty picture devoid of life; or, at worst, an ugly picture devoid of life! Thanks to the greater kudu and his beauty, this challenging piece was beneficial to paint, and will hopefully be a happy memoir on my dad’s wall, of one of his many great adventures.
A Kudu bull jumping a sheep breeding fence on Uitspan Ranch, Namibia.
