“Annie Freud on Lucian Freud”

“I simply love that painting. Great eyebrows, which unfortunately, I’ve lost; I was 14 then. I don’t remember sitting for it, but I know I’m looking at him. Because, you know, it was not quiet. There were moments when he’d ask me to be still, or perhaps not speak, when he was really, really concentrating on something, but we spoke absolutely all the time. I think he knew it would unsettle me if he was too quiet; but also we were just hugely close and had masses to talk about. He used to recite poems and read to me, a lot.

I sat for my father maybe 11 or 12 times, throughout my childhood. It was always very lovely. He used to tell me these terribly exciting stories in which I was the hero, stowing away on ocean liners and jumping from the gangplank on to the ship and hiding, and having adventures; he used to sing and make up little songs for me.

He’d get distressed, and I’d feel I was failing him. You’re young and don’t know who's ­responsible for what

I completely admired what he was doing, always, and was very impressed, looking at important portraits of people and seeing that progress. But I was aware that it was not something I spoke about with other people. I didn’t talk about it with my mother, I didn’t talk about it with friends or important relatives like my grandparents. I knew that it was special and interesting, and that it didn’t happen to all children. The nude he did of me was a pretty tremendous experience. I think it was his first full nude, called Naked Child Laughing. I was about 14 or 15. I felt very much that I made that picture with him. I really, really prize it.(...)” (Lido em: The Guardian, 2018-02-03)