The commission to paint J.K.Rowling came about as a direct result of winning the BP award in 2001 at the National Portrait Gallery. Several aborted attempts to paint other people preceded the commission to paint Jo over the intervening four years. Jo and I, in a sense selected each other. I was given a shortlist of sitters and she a shortlist of painters. I was drawn to her principally because of my admiration for a woman who can successfully combine motherhood and a creative career. Jo told me that she had been drawn to my work because of the tiny paintings that I had done of a family of people with red hair; she confessed to sharing a fascination for people with red hair, which any readers familiar with the Weasley family in the Potter books should not be surprised about. At our first meeting in Edinburgh Jo and I discussed some ideas for the portrait, one of which was to depict her in a café in the act of writing. I felt that this was a little too literal and favoured making some reference to the idea of motherhood. Jo agreed with this and I came up with an idea in which she was sitting at a kitchen table eating breakfast with one of her children seen from the back, sitting in a high chair. On the table was to be a blank pad of paper and a pen- a reference to the unwritten novel, or on a broader scale, the as-yet uncreated work of art. I wanted to combine a sense of the everyday; domesticity: represented by the prosaic interior with a mother and her baby, with a suggestion of the creative idea that has yet to come into being. At this stage, I didn’t have any firm thoughts about whether or not the painting should be three-dimensional, though I had been flirting with the idea, if only in my own mind. Casual observers of my work might be surprised by the direction this has taken my work, but I see the incorporation of the third dimension as a very logical development in my work. Since a visit to Norwich Cathedral when I first saw the mediaeval roof bosses there, I had been experimenting with perspective in paintings, tilting the floor plan up, yet keeping a figure upright. It’s a logical means of describing a scene. The significant change came when I visited an exhibition of Regency Toy theatres at the John Soane Museum. It came as a great inspiration, the idea of liberating my figures from the page. I made a piece called ‘Scene from a play’ which was used as the front cover for a friend’s band called the Fallout Trust. This was a large three dimensional space containing two cut out figures drawn in pencil. It was exhibited last year in the exhibition Being Present at the Jerwood Space. I had an initial sitting in Edinburgh with Jo and did two drawings, one in pencil and the other, which was done in a café whilst Jo wrote part of the Mudblood prince, was in charcoal. I had two further, full weekend sittings with Jo at her house in the country. At these I worked directly in oil on paper. I had at this point decided to make the painting three-dimensional and so I planned to paste the painting on paper down onto board. We worked each day from 10ish through to 4 or 5pm. Jo was easy company if not, like many sitters at first, a little shy of the brush. When I had finished the oil on paper painting I decided that I didn’t like it and that it was too big, so back in the studio with photographs, the original painting and a number of drawings I began the long process of making the finished piece. Towards the end of the process I learned from the papers that Jo was to have another baby. By this time I had developed misgivings about the inclusion of one of Jo’s babies. It seemed to unnecessarily complicate the composition. With the birth of Jo’s third baby I decided to include three boiled eggs on her breakfast plate- a reference to her own three fertilised eggs.

This portrait was a commission from Ashley and Anya Kibblewhite who have embarked on an ambitious project in which they aim to commission up to twenty or so artists to paint, sculpt or make portraits of them. Mr and Mrs Kibblewhite speculate about exhibiting the pieces all together once they are finished.

This is a commissioned portrait of Philip Mould OBE, director of the West end gallery Historical Portraits and honorary advisor to the House of commons art committee, along with his wife Catherine and son Oliver. The background features the family's country home Duck End

This is the retirement portrait of Jon Gabitass, headmaster of the Merchant Taylor School

Stuart's youngest model yet

This portrait was commissioned by The Royal Society of Arts to mark their centenary. The initial portrait produced by Stuart was turned down by the R.S.A. and so this is the second version.

This painting was commisioned by BBC Books to grace the Front Cover of the Book: The League of Gentlemen, Scripts and That. It was painted, largly, from life in Stuart's East end Studio

This is a commissioned portrait

This is a commissioned portrait of Nicholas Hurt, son of the actor John Hurt. It was painted on the South West coast of the Republic of Ireland

This is a commissioned Portrait and is set in West London where the sitter lives

Subsequent to sitting for the portrait that the National Portrait Gallery bought, John Hurt commissioned this portrait of himself along with portraits of his family

This painting was commissioned by the British Academy to mark their centenary and features five ex-presidents and the incumbent president Tony Wrigley. The sitters are clockwise from left, Lord Randolph Quirk, Sir Anthony Kenney, Sir Tony Wrigley, Sir Keith Thomas, Rev Owen Chadwick and Sir Kenneth Dover. The painting also won first prize in the 2001 BP Awards at the National Portrait Gallery.For more information, please consult article in writings section.

This is a commissioned portrait

This is a commissioned portrait and is set in Oxford where the sitter lives

This is a commissioned portrait of Alexander Hurt, son of the actor John Hurt. It was painted on the South West coast of the Republic of Ireland

This painting is the result of a commission from the Almeida Theatre Company and was used in their production of Frank Wedekind’s play Lulu