The Floris family has long celebrated its heritage through the art of portraiture—a tradition dating back to founder Juan Floris in 1730. This custom has woven generations of family history with the art of oil painting, capturing each Floris member as a timeless figure in their legacy. From Juan and his wife, Elizabeth, to Robert, seventh-generation Michael, and now Edward Bodenham, the ninth-generation Perfume Director, each family member has a unique place in this lineage of portraiture.

The latest portrait in this series captures Edward Bodenham, the current Perfume Director of Floris, portrayed by artist Anna Larin. Set in the historic boardroom above the Floris shop, Edward’s likeness stands amidst symbols of the family’s rich past, including a bust of his ancestor, Mary Anne Floris, and one of the original Floris formula books. Each element within this portrait underscores the enduring legacy and meticulous craftsmanship that defines the Floris brand.

Anna Larin’s path to portrait artistry began in Poland, where she grew up surrounded by both art and nature. Her first lessons were with her father, a self-taught artist known for his replicas of 19th-century historical paintings. Moving to Krakow, Anna pursued a Master of Arts degree, graduating in 2008, and spent years developing her skills as an art conservation assistant, dance teacher, and tour guide. In 2015, she relocated to London, where she dedicated herself to her craft, ultimately becoming a full-time artist in 2020.

Anna brings a deep respect for tradition, sustainability, and craftsmanship to her work—a harmony that aligns seamlessly with the values of the Floris family.

To delve deeper into Anna’s work and creative process, we sat down with her to discuss her journey, inspirations, and her experience painting a member of the Floris family.

What initially drew you to portrait painting, and how has your style evolved over the years?

"I've only recently come to appreciate how fortunate I was to have a father who was a painter. From an early age, I loved watching him at work in his home studio—stretching canvas, priming it, and finally painting. The smell of turpentine felt like the smell of home to me, and my interest in painting developed quite organically from there.

My father often created copies of grand historical works by the 19th-century Polish artist Jan Matejko. These paintings were densely packed with incredibly expressive faces, capturing a multitude of historical figures, each posed or foreshortened in a unique way. I remember being mesmerized, watching my father bring these faces to life on the canvas. A few years later, I was painting with oils myself. And as many children do, I eventually rebelled against my father's artistic tastes, finding them overly pompous, too pretentious and unoriginal.

I was naturally drawn to colour and aimed to paint in the style of the Impressionists and Fauvists, so my portraits were filled with all the colors of the rainbow. Until I moved to London and discovered an incredible array of artists: Thomas Lawrence and John Singer Sargent at the National Portrait Gallery; the Pre-Raphaelites at Tate Britain; Hans Holbein, Giovanni Bellini, the Dutch masters, Van Dyck and Rembrandt at the National Gallery. They often used a limited palette, yet they evoked a depth and grace that surpassed anything I had ever seen. Under their influence, I, too, began to narrow my palette.

Last month, I visited Krakow and had the chance to see Matejko's paintings at the National Museum, as well as his home in the Old Town, where his studio was located. Standing in front of Matejko's original easel, I realized I had come full circle—from the works that influenced me in my childhood to the works I create today."

How do you approach capturing the essence of your subjects? Is there a particular process or mindset that helps you connect with them on a deeper level?

"That’s an interesting question. I can often sense a person's essence easily, but I rarely feel compelled to capture it in a painting. We reveal so much of who we are through the way we move and speak; just a few moments with someone can be enough to get a sense of their true self. But what I aim to convey in a portrait might be something different altogether. I always meet with my sitters first to discuss our ideas, and once I have a vision for the portrait, the sitter becomes almost like an actor in that vision. For instance, if we want to convey authority, I'll guide them into a certain pose, and the props or background elements become extensions of their personality as well.

Ideally, I like to have creative freedom in shaping the portrait, as my overarching goal is to bring out the best side of my sitter. I want them to see a reflection of their finest qualities when they look at the portrait—something that reconnects them to their best self. For this reason, I don’t see the point in painting unflattering commissioned portraits. Life brings enough challenges, and my mission is to create uplifting, heartwarming representations.

That said, I do sometimes create more raw representations when they’re not commissioned pieces. Either way, I’m less interested in delving deeply into the sitter’s character; instead, I find it more exciting to explore the emotions they have the potential to represent."

Is there a particular piece or project that has been especially meaningful to you?

"Yes, there is one, and I named it Gaia. Three years ago, I suffered a traumatic bereavement, which left me unable to paint or work for nearly a year. Then, through a chance meeting, I began working on a portrait of Kimberley, who is also an artist. It’s a very dark piece. I was no longer interested in presenting the sitter, which is a focus of a typical portrait. Here my aim was almost the opposite—to let her almost disappear into the darkness, subconsciously reflecting the loss I was experiencing."

“As I worked on this portrait, I felt myself gradually becoming more grounded and stable. In a way, the painting took on a life of its own, helping guide me back to the world of the living. That’s why I named it after Gaia, the Mother of Earth, a symbol of grounding and rebirth.

Since then, I’ve begun reintroducing some color to my paintings, though the prevailing vibe still leans toward the dark—a quality that is beyond my control. I hope it stays with me for a while longer, as I now find a certain elegance in darkness.”

Your work is known for being eco-friendly and cruelty-free. Could you share what that means in your art practice?

“Art can be a wasteful craft. Only about 20% of what I create, I have courage to present to the world, while the rest are failed attempts. To reduce waste, I’ve developed a method of upcycling my unsatisfactory paintings by sanding down the surface and creating a new piece on top of it. An added benefit is that this process creates a non-absorbent surface, which is ideal for oil painting. As a result, I rarely need to discard any canvas.

Working as an art conservation technician for three years, where I repaired cracks, revived fading pigments, and treated flaking paint, gave me a strong understanding of the importance of quality materials and techniques in painting.

There are also many toxic materials in painting—such as solvents and mediums—that I avoid. For instance, I use a citrus-based solvent, which doesn’t produce harmful vapors. Similarly, while rabbit skin glue has been a traditional canvas primer for centuries, I find it unnecessary in an age when synthetic alternatives can provide equal or better results.

For canvas, I always choose linen. It requires about 20 times less water than cotton, relies minimally on pesticides, and has a much longer lifespan.

As for brushes, I exclusively use synthetic ones from Rosemary & Co. They’re more durable than hog bristle brushes and cruelty-free."

How did the opportunity to paint Edward Bodenham come about? 

"I'm the City of Westminster tour guide, and discovered Floris in 2019 while researching the history of St. James's for my guiding course. I saw the portrait of Juan Famenias Floris, which hangs in the museum room at the Jermyn Street shop, and was captivated by the story of how he founded the family business with his wife in 1730. Since then, I’ve had a growing wish to paint a portrait of the current owner and contribute to the family collection.

During my tours of St. James's, I frequently brought clients to Floris, where I became acquainted with the friendly staff, the fragrances, and every nook and cranny of the shop—including the fascinating private meeting room with its mahogany cabinets and historic ledger books. Floris quickly became my favorite spot in St. James’s.

A few months ago, I decided it was time to reach out to Edward about the possibility of a portrait, and fortunately, he was open to the idea. The entire process was a joy; I think I had Edward’s trust and the creative freedom to bring my ideas to life.

The primary color pairing in this portrait turned out to be burgundy and navy blue. When Edward saw the finished painting, he mentioned that burgundy is actually his favorite color—a delightful coincidence."

Floris has a heritage that spans nearly three centuries. Did this legacy inspire any elements or ideas in your portrait of Edward?

"Absolutely. When I met with Edward to discuss our ideas, I was invited to the meeting room above the shop, where I saw portraits of past generations, including Edward's grandfather, Michael Bodenham. I thought that the portrait I was going to create, should harmonize with the family’s collection and fit naturally in terms of palette and style.

It was clear that this portrait was not just of Edward as an individual, but as the head of the company and the ninth generation of his family. I wanted to incorporate elements that reflect this legacy. While bottles of perfume felt a bit obvious, there was a perfect composition on the table in the meeting room: a ledger book and a marble bust of Mary Anne Floris, who married James Bodenham in 1871 and took over the business. With twelve children, she must have been a remarkable woman, I thought. So Mary Anne acts to me as a link between the Floris and Bodenham families. At some point, however, I contemplated removing her from the picture, as I was worried it might draw attention away from Edward. But after consulting a trusted art historian, who said, “Without Mary, there is no story here,” I decided to keep her in the composition."

How does creating a portrait for such a historic brand differ from your other works? Did it bring a unique sense of responsibility?

"Perhaps it should have, but instead, it felt like an exciting challenge. Last winter, I spent considerable time studying William Hogarth's portrait of Captain Thomas Coram at the Foundling Museum. It's a stunning Grand Manner portrait, with Coram's red coat, a grand classical column, drapery in the background, and various symbols of his profession. I’d been eager to attempt a similar style, and it felt fitting to apply this Grand Manner approach to Edward's portrait.

The drapery in the background always sets the tone, giving all paintings a timeless feel. To soften the formality, I took inspiration from 19th-century portraits (like those by Pilip de László), which often feature more relaxed, natural poses. So, although there was a lot of planning and thought behind the scenes, the experience was thoroughly joyful and fulfilling."

What do you hope people feel or take away when they view Edward’s portrait?

"What I aimed to capture was a blend of kindness and confidence. This is, in fact, the first time I’ve painted a smiling sitter—a departure from my usual approach. Yet, after a few meetings with Edward, it became clear that this portrait needed his signature smile. There’s an aura of kindness about him that I wanted to bring forward.

At the same time, as the head of a heritage brand, it was essential to convey a sense of dignity and timelessness. While the Grand Manner style might seem very traditional, I hope that his smile softens this formality, grounding the portrait in the present and capturing a truly contemporary presence."

And finally, we must ask—what is your favorite Floris fragrance, and why?

For nearly 300 years, Floris has built a legacy in both fragrance and family-inspired creations. Each scent tells a story, drawing from memories, relationships, and histories within the Floris family. The fragrance JF, for example, was created as a tribute to founder Juan’s homeland of Minorca, Spain. Night Scented Jasmine is a love letter to Elizabeth, Juan’s wife, while Neroli Voyage was inspired by Robert Floris’s travels to discover new ingredients. Most recently, Chypress, crafted by Edward and his team, explores the connection between fragrance and beauty, aiming to evoke emotions that resonate with the wearer.

As Edward’s portrait joins this long line of family representations, it symbolises Floris’s dedication to honoring its past while embracing the future. Through art and fragrance, the Floris family continues to weave a captivating history that spans centuries, crafting a legacy of beauty, inspiration, and tradition for generations to come.