Why I Don’t Aim for Photorealism in Pet Portraits

Why I Don’t Aim for Photorealism in Pet Portraits

Photorealism is often seen as the highest level of skill in pet portrait painting.
“If it looks like a photo,” many people say, “that’s real mastery.”
But after years of painting, I’ve learned something important:

Accuracy is not the same as truth.

When I paint a custom pet portrait, my goal isn’t to recreate a photograph.
My goal is to capture presence.

A Photograph Already Exists — A Painting Should Do More

A photo can perfectly record details: fur texture, eye color, reflections.
But it rarely captures what we actually remember about a beloved animal.

We remember:

  • the way they looked at us,

  • how they occupied space,

  • their calm, alertness, or quiet strength,

  • the feeling of having them nearby.

A photorealistic pet portrait often becomes a painted copy of a photo.
An oil painting has the power to go further — through color, brushwork, and silence.

Animals Don’t Pose — They Exist

People can pose. Animals don’t.
What makes them compelling is their natural state: awareness, trust, stillness, energy.

When working on a pet portrait commission, I focus less on perfect anatomy and more on:

  • the direction of the gaze,

  • the weight of the head,

  • tension or relaxation in the body,

  • how the animal relates to space.

Very often, fewer details create a stronger sense of life.

Brushstrokes Instead of Imitation

Painting is a language.
Brushstrokes are words.

Photorealism turns painting into imitation.
I want my work to breathe — to leave room for air, movement, and feeling.

That’s why my portraits often include:

  • visible brushstrokes,

  • simplified forms,

  • quiet or abstract backgrounds.

This isn’t a shortcut.
It’s a deliberate artistic choice.

The Paradox of Likeness

Here’s something I’ve noticed over and over again.

When a portrait doesn’t aim for photorealism, clients are more likely to say:

“That’s them. That’s exactly them.”

Not “it looks like the photo,”
but “it feels right.”

For me, that’s the highest compliment a hand-painted pet portrait can receive.

A Painting Is About Memory, Not Just Appearance

Especially when the animal is deeply loved — or remembered.

A portrait becomes more than an image.
It becomes a quiet place where memory lives.

Photorealism looks outward.
Painting looks inward.

Why I Paint This Way

I’m not trying to impress with precision.
I’m trying to preserve a feeling.

A good painting should live longer than a photograph.
It should reveal itself slowly, not all at once.

That’s why my pet portraits focus on:

  • atmosphere over surface,

  • emotion over perfection,

  • presence over photographic accuracy.


Back to blog