Under the interested eye of his subject, former Gov. John McKernan, Ron Frontin paints a portrait that will undergo not only McKernan's scrutiny, but a state's

"What facial expression will people be able to stand to look at for the next 100 years?" says Ron Frontin. "There’s nothing more unnerving than painting somebody for somebody else".

In this case, the somebody is former Gov. John McKernan and the somebody else is the whole state of Maine. Frontin has been commissioned to paint McKernan’s official portrait, which will be unveiled Sept, 21 and hung in the State House Rotunda.

By painting the portrait, Frontin, of Thomaston, is following a long artistic tradition that has petered out in the 20th century. From Michaelangelo to Andy Warhol, fine artists throughout history have rendered likenesses for sums. In fact, many masterpieces - Velasquez’ "Pope Innocent X" and Goya’s "The Family of Charles IV," for example - were commissioned works.

In the modern art world, where self-expression is paramount and photography captures a person with a click, few serious artists paint commissioned portraits.

"It’s such a demanding thing, and it makes you submerge your idea of what painting is about," says Michael Culver, curator of the Ogunquit Museum of American Art. "Fewer artists go into portraiture than might have been the case years ago."

Alex Katz, with his flattened, billboard-like style, has painted portraits on commission, as have Neil Welliver and Robert Indiana. These nationally known Maine-based artists, though, exert a strong stylistic influence over their subjects. Indiana’s portraits are words, painted on canvas, that describe the person Katz’s portraits are far more realistic.

An official portrait demands a more traditional approach, in which, the artist’s style becomes subservient to portraying the subject for posterity.

This caused Frontin some concern when he accepted the commission. He typically paints portraits with the agreement that he can paint the subject however he wants. He doesn’t let anybody see the painting until it is complete. Then, if the subject doesn’t like the result, he or she doesn’t have to buy it.

It doesn’t work that way with an official portrait.

"This scared me when I first heard about it," Frontin says. "It’s completely different than what I expected. I really expected it to be a bore. It’s not drudgery in any way."

Frontin wants, has almost always wanted, to be an artist in a very traditional sense. "My work and my attitude are at least 100 years old," he says.

Artists who do

portraits bear

a unique pressure:

Someone

important

may be

watching

Hold the Phone

John McKernan is a tall, slender, angular man whose physical stiffness stands in contrast to his easy, joking manner. He stands for his portrait rather than sits/ That way he can more easily answer his portable phone, which he keeps nearby.

"Ron understands I don’t hold still well," the former Republican governor says, dresses in a blue suit and a red tie.

"I’m surprised he hasn’t painted you with a phone in your ear," calls his wife, Sen. Olympia Snowe.

Frontin’s drop cloth, easel and palette are set up in the couple’s expensive living room of their Falmouth home. While McKernan negotiates business deals on the phone or chats with his wife or Frontin, the artist daubs some reds on his painting, making the flesh tones of McKernan’s face warmer.

"He’s good," says McKernan. "He doesn’t stare. He’s got a quick eye."

"Generally, that bothers people," says Frontin as he adds a touch of blue to McKernan’s eyes.

McKernan, who served as governor from 1986 to 1994, selected Frontin from a pool of artists recommended by the Maine Commission for the Arts. Frontin, who will earn $12,000 for the portrait, estimates he’ll spend 300 hours working on it That works out to roughly $40 an hour.

With a month to go to the unveiling, the portrait is about half done. The expression, currently fairly serious, still must be refined. The background colors have to be painted in Frontin has to decide whether to paint McKernan - who will be depicted in the governor’s office - in a plain brown suit or a brown suit with pinstripes.

That’s an important question. Bob McKernan and Frontin are well aware that the littlest detail could spark controversy with his painting As with most public art works, everyone will have an opinion about this painting. For that reason, they ask that the work in progress not be photographed or described in much detail, They don’t want people complaining before the painting is even finished.

Frontin, with his shoulder-length, light brown curly locks, loosely resembles the late actor Michael Landon At 33, he’s easy going, friendly, but there is an intensity to him that you find in anyone who knows exactly what he wants. Frontin wants, has almost always wanted, to be an artist in a very traditional sense.

"My work and my attitude are at least 100 years old," he says.

After finishing his studies at the Philadelphia College of Art, the Camden native apprenticed for three years with one of the country’s foremost portrait painters, Nelson Shanks. Frontin had no intention of becoming a portrait painter, but he wanted to learn what he felt art school hadn’t taught him - the craft of painting and drawing.

Done with his apprenticeship, Frontin and his wife, Kathy, moved back to the Rockland area in 1987. Kathy supported the couple with bookkeeping while Ron painted. For four years, they lived in Kathy’s grandmother’s trailer. Frontin decided to try portrait painting to earn money.

He sent letters to a number of well-known Mainers offering to paint their portraits for free as a way to get a track record as a portrait painter. Only one person, Barry Faber, a Knox County judge, took him up on the offer.

"Three years ago, I couldn’t give my work away," Frontin says. "I was lucky to get $200 for a picture."

Just before his first one-person show, at Gallery One in Rockland in 1993, Kathy decided she’d had it. If his work didn’t sell, she told him, he had to get a job.

The show sold out, and the commissions began to pour in.

He has painted CEO’s at IBM and MGM. He’s getting more and more commissions, which run $10,000 to $25,000, out of Boston. He hardly has time for his own work. Last January the couple moved to a roomy house they are renovating along the shores of the Weskeag River in Thomaston.

Portraits are a real teat of an artist’s drawing ability, Frontin says, because if the finished work doesn’t accurately resemble the person, it’s obvious. An artist also has to answer to a critic, the subject, who more than likely has no art training whatsoever.

"It really shakes you up," Frontin says. "You get into your own little world, and you don’t grow as much. This takes you out of that."

Portraits also demand that the artist use more than his eyes. The first few times Frontin meets with portrait subjects, he just talks with them and tries to get to know them.

"It took me three to four years to get comfortable and start asking questions to get right to the heart of the matter," he says.

Frontin painted one subject with his back to the viewer During a sitting with a child, the young subject kept falling asleep. So Frontin painted him that way.

Despite his many commissions, Frontin asks not to be described as a portrait-painter. He doesn’t want to be stereotyped as doing only one kind of painting, he says, and he doesn’t rely on portrait painting to make his living. His other work sells just as well or better.

Still, his portrait of McKernan is what the artist may well be remembered for As Frontin commits McKernan to posterity, so he does himself - as a portrait painter. The artist can live with that.

"It’s been good, because I want to make an impact in the art world. "That’s why I starved for 10 years. Here, I’ve made a statewide impact. If nothing else happens, I’ve reached the pinnacle in the state.