Solanderic Surprises

Solander boxes are austere, functional and safe but inside holds another story. Watercolour works from another world, frenetic splashes of colour, exquisitely studied views of nature and humanity.

 

 

I was fortunate enough to be part of a tour of the watercolour works held by the Wollongong City Gallery and Louise Brand the curator was open enough to take a peek inside one of those Solander boxes that held works that made me go AHHhh.

Each box contain works based on physical proportions so the contents of this single box held watercolours by Samuel Elyard from the 1800s to Ian Fairweather & Tony Tuckson in the 50′s and 60′s. I’ve always considered watercolours and sketches the underwear of an artist. So it was great to see these pair of artists stripped down to their grungies.

The Fairweather was in a fragile state, as all his works seem to be, but that frailty is the beauty of his work. The complete antithesis of the instability of materials  came in the strikingly vibrant indigenous art of  Kitty Kantilla done with ochres. Flaunting her timeless materials.

It was a beautiful glimpse of some wonderful watery works that we are fortunate enough to hold in the collection.

The works pictured here have links to their sources and are not the beautiful works I saw.  Unfortunately the gallery has neither the time nor the funds to have digitalized their collection as yet and I was too excited to take photos.

 

The Ping-Pong Table

I’m still rolling up paintings, tearing paper and burning stuff.  As I go I am photographing the stuff I have had to say goodbye to once and for all.

This one was hard. Not a great work by any means but one of those that I remember every mark, every mix. It was based on my old studio.  I had a large ping-pong table in the centre of the space – it was great to store bits and pieces, cut paper, mount works, paint flat.

The table was a conglomeration of collectables. Pieces of paper, bones, paint but it was where I was happy for a long time. I had hung on to this work for that reason. It was a series of 6 large boards -each 1 m x .700 so difficult to dispose of too.

One board had 3 ping-pong bats glued to it and on top of the bats, cassette tape boxes and inside the boxes, pieces of paint palette and on the paint palette, fish bones.

It was produced at a time where I was in transition, I wanted to paint but loved the exploration of materials and this work was about that.  Perhaps I was sensing the time to leave that ping-pong table behind.

I often dried fish bones after eating fish and my clothesline would have smelly fish carcasses hanging precariously from time to time. I liked to do this when I had caught the fish myself. I sometimes lost my “washing” to kookaburras.

There is something very primal about fish bones. Their role in this work also related back to my youth at the boatshed. The actual fish bones glued within the work had long since gone – to delicate sustain countless moves.

I don’t know if I could have discarded the work at all if they had still been adhered to the work.  Either way it has now gone and it definitely looks better in hindsight.

Kevin Connor, a charcoal crush.

Kevin Connor’s work in the Wynne Prize at the Art Gallery of NSW reminded me of charcoal. Glimpses underneath his paint.

These charcoal sketches show the hullaballoo that is the Archibald Prize -the delivery of artwork, the parade of work in front of trustees, the hang.

On the train home, reading an article of his commission by Art & Australia to document the process of  the Archibald Prize, I was feeling the pangs of that first love affair with an artist. When you get that spark of connection.

It was however, his portrait of  sculptor Robert Klippel that I refer to as my “lightning bolt moment”. The realisation that space within a painting was paint itself, that drawing and paint were one and that drawing didn’t end when painting began.

From that moment in art school I read more on his work and found that the spark did not dull and his figurative works that had initially drawn me now led to his city-scapes in oil.

He has been an unending influence on my work. I noticed how in this early clumsy figurative study. I was already exploring space as a direct result from looking at his work (as per notes on the back).

His landscapes are just as fresh, they are quintessentially Australian in their use of light and space and his current work in the Wynne (as pictured in my blog I Am Not an Island)

His city scenes of Haymarket in ink are legendary but I love this oily early work,   Morning Near Taylor Square 1983. (from Paintings & Drawings AGNSW Catalogue 1947-1988)

Painting a New World

After digesting the yearly dose of Archibalds at the Art Gallery of NSW, I strolled across the park to the State Library of NSW to see the John Lewin exhibition.

I really didn’t know that much about Lewin apart from his delicate paintings of birds but the exhibition was like a trip to a new land through paint.

I couldn’t imagine the excitement for an artist to confront new and wonderous plants and animals and a landscape so different from the lush greens of England. His soft grey greens of the Australian bush were outstanding and I wondered about his choice of palette before he left.

The works were delicate and light and his studies of moths and caterpillars were inspirational.

In a room adjoined to the exhibition, a room of stuffed birds and animals perched on tables with pencils and paper ready for new explorers. The walls were hung with brightly coloured parrots, stuffed feathery owls and spiky echidnas drawn by visitors from around the world. Scribbly signatures with their country of origin at the bottom of each drawing gave some clue as to where they had come from. I guess the explorer-artists felt much like Lewin looking at these strange animals up close, taking in detail that you would never get from books.

The State Library is full of books with plates and illustrations but countless artists but nothing substitutes for the real thing -stuffed or not.

I Am Not an Island

“A painting has to speak for itself…..” Kevin Connor

Yesterdays visit to the Art Gallery of NSW was beautiful. Sydney was warm, bright and crisp. I was at the gallery before the droves of school children with books and pencils. I envied them sitting on the cool morning grass opposite in the Botanic Gardens, eager to see the portraits.

I never did that as a child and I wondered how different my life would have been had I seen this painting when I was 10.

Dane Lovett‘s work “The Island” (pictured above) spoke to me as Kevin Connor ‘s quote, next to his Wynne entry.  Lovett’s  was a finalist in the Sulman Prize for genre painting and I guess initially it was his handling of paint that drew me in. Beautiful deft loose brushwork, purposeful yet an ease.  The more I studied it, the more it spoke. Lost technologies and change were the greater issues and his still life arrangement of past ephemera was composed to resemble an island. It tugged my heart-strings. Perhaps it was looking at the children with their books open, excited. Maybe it was the smell of oil paint, the Dylan album or the video itself The Island. From memory it was movie based on the Island of Dr Moreau, a haunting story that had always felt macabre but close to reality. I couldn’t help but think we are producing Moreau-type monsters with paint in the Archibald, large soulless heads bearing down on us.

Kevin Connor’s large looming work also had that element of mystery, paradise swathed in dark lit only by the moon. A wonderful work in restraint with a myriad of underdrawing that feeds his work and gives it strength. I was impressed with many works in the Wynne this year and the Archibald held the usual shock and awe.

 

 

The beautifully sad self-portrait of Jenny Sages “After Jack” but for me it was another mysterious painting by Melissa Egan of Charles Blackman that held my attention.  Once again beautiful handling of paint and that Moreau-ish intrusion of nature -a portrait hanging in the landscape.

I guess the unexpected warmth of May yesterday may have led to some disquiet in my choice of works and my yearning for earlier times.  Maybe it was reading Patti Smith’s biography on the train or I wanted to be a crossed-leg school girl in a dark blue hat, an exercise book to draw in and a cool floor to sit on surrounded by looming faces made of paint.

 

Wishin’ I Could See Whisson

“I’m discovered and forgotten, discovered and forgotten and it will go on…..”

Ken Whisson’s painting used to be tucked around a corner near the lifts at the National Gallery in Canberra. I felt like grabbing it and giving it centre stage. Shaking it in front of people and saying “Look, look!” instead the NGA underwent massive reconstruction and in the jumble of works -it moved! Yes. Heide Gallery in Melbourne is having a whole Whisson show and unfortunately I can’t make it but I have the next best thing -the catalogue (no surprise Glenn Barkley has contributed to this wonderful book).

His paint is fresh and lively, I’m wishin’ I could smell it.

Too many exhibitions, too big a world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How Much is that Doggie Quiz

So far in the How Much is that Doggie Quiz -Australia has it. No other countries have participated, funny considering I know how much the San Frannites love their poochies. (See my blog about the dog children of San Francisco).

So far we have one top dog with 100%. Well done! You know who you are and I don’t, so congrats and if you want to own up to your score feel free to let me know in the comments. I won’t judge.

If you feel you want to test your knowledge on arty dogs click here to take my quiz.

You can also try the other art quizzes. They are still all open and can find them in my Art Quiz Category. I post the answers later on or if you can’t wait just let me know.

Sydneys Biennale Fog Cleared

When the doors of the lift of the old Museum Contemporary Art opened and we were faced with tables of cheese with band-aids I pretty much thought the glamour of the Biennale was over for me. That was 2004. Times fly.

Today I went to a talk at the Wollongong City Gallery,  a sneak peek of what’s in store for this years Biennale – All Our Relations.  I couldn’t be more excited. It’s like lifting the corner of the wrapping on Xmas morning. Enough so you know what it is, what it’s about but no playing until the day.

After 40 years Fujiko Nakaya has returned to Sydney and will be spreading her beautiful fog sculpture onto Cockatoo Island.

It was wonderful to see two young education officers who were passionate about what they were presenting.

They’ve inspired me to make the effort once again, be open and take the ride. Come out of my self-induced fog of oil paint and stop whining about “painting has gone….” like some old impressionist. After all they have included some of my old Australian faves Dorothy Napangardi, John Wolsley and Tim Johnson.

 

 

Ripping Off

My continued race for space has meant that I am taking paintings off stretchers and rolling canvases. In the process I have seen inspiration from old works that can work on a larger scale down the track.

I’ve taken some photos of areas within works.

Some of these works will bite the dust. Others will live again in new works-ripped off.

 

 

 

 

Musicians Love Dogs & Writers Love Cats

Well that seems to be the inference in this article by Emily Temple that recently linked from one of my blogs about David Hockney. I’m a dog person so I think that means I can’t write (or perhaps shouldn’t).

This week my library pick up was wonderful Dogs in Australian Art by Steven Miller. Does it get any better – art and puppies in one book, and it’s not heavy! But wait it gets better. My favourite artist Noel McKenna has my breed of dog -SNAP! (here’s a work he did based on lost dog posters)

Tim Storrier brought his dog Smudge to share in his glory of the win at the  Archibald Prize at the Art Gallery NSW so I have decided to share the love and do another quiz – I know about time! This time it centres around doggies and artists.

Take a stab: How Much is that Doggie in the Window?