I don't understand why no one's made a movie about Edwin Booth. Maybe that's a good thing knowing the tendency to turn amazing historical stories into rubbish, but I think America has enough perspective at this point (and enough talent and technology) to do it up right. And what a story! Maybe it's just too depressing. I admit I get depressed when I think about him. But so far as pathos goes, his life's got it all: deep dark tragedy, true love, lost love, fame, fortune, dereliction and despair.
Anyway, I drew this for a project I am working on that has nothing to do with anything else that I have been working on, but which may actually be an actual submission to actual people. Scary, that. We'll see. If I can finish it this weekend, I will share more. There's a July 31st deadline and I am notoriously slow at these things sometimes. Click to see the full-sized image!
The painting is by John Singer Sargent and was done in 1890. For my own picture, I made Booth younger and gave him his Hamlet hair (and will draw a Hamlet costume to go with this), though the hair is not as long as he occasionally kept it. I am still working on the face, etc., so I may yet lengthen the hair.
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