Thank You Yvonne Boyd

Painting of Yvonne by Arthur Boyd

Painting of Yvonne by Arthur Boyd

I only saw this gentle woman once.  She was standing to the side of the doorway, once her home, to let me pass.  It was in that moment that I realised exactly what a selfless person she must be.  The occaision was the 10th anniversary of handing over Bundanon, her home, to the public.  People were rambling en-masse through her home, helicopters landing on her peaceful paddocks and the whole time she was gracious and kind. Not only had she relinquished such a special place, she had lived and loved Arthur Boyd and tended to his art affairs.  She was an accomplished artist and although I did not know her personally, I feel I owe her a lot.  My time at Bundanon allowed me to paint unimpeded by the outside world, to immerse myself in the landscape she and Arthur shared.  Sadly Yvonne passed away today. Thank You Yvonne Boyd.

Bundanon

 

Cows Make the Best Art Critics

It began with cows at Bundanon.  The track from the river back to the studio through the paddocks.  I would spend hours not talking with anyone, the cows would look intent, like they had something to say so I asked.  The wombats weren’t good art critics. They would amble hurriedly away or disappear down the hole looking disappointed at my efforts.  Their ability to put poo on a rock summed it up – they were sculptors and looked at my work as being too flat. Maybe they’re right.

Possums have given me mixed messages -they are like the art teachers who can’t help but put a mark on your work, not that I am opposed to that  -there has been evidence of nibbling, delicate foortprints in charcoal and the curl of a tail disappearing in the rafters when I turn the key.

A scene in Frida a movie on the life of Frida Kahlo showed Diego Rivera’s dog pissing on a canvas “he’s always my best critic”. Dogs are upfront. Cows chew their cud and mull it over.  They throw the onus back to me as the painter -“Fix it, it’s that simple”

Cows Make the Best Art Critics

It began with cows at Bundanon.  The track from the river back to the studio through the paddocks.  I would spend hours not talking with anyone, the cows would look intent, like they had something to say so I asked.  The wombats weren’t good art critics. They would amble hurriedly away or disappear down the hole looking disappointed at my efforts.  Their ability to put poo on a rock summed it up – they were sculptors and looked at my work as being too flat. Maybe they’re right.

Possums have given me mixed messages -they are like the art teachers who can’t help but put a mark on your work, not that I am opposed to that  -there has been evidence of nibbling, delicate foortprints in charcoal and the curl of a tail disappearing in the rafters when I turn the key.

A scene in Frida a movie on the life of Frida Kahlo showed Diego Rivera’s dog pissing on a canvas “he’s always my best critic”. Dogs are upfront. Cows chew their cud and mull it over.  They throw the onus back to me as the painter -“Fix it, it’s that simple”

Bundanon Series

At the base of Pulpit Rock on Shoalhaven River is a conglomeration of rocks.  It was here that Arthur Boyd fell back in love with the Australian Landscape and I fell in love with paint.  A residency at Bundanon for over a month meant I had time, let Arthur and the landscape seep into me.  Daily, hour by hour the river would change colour.  I wiggled my stump-easel into place, tied the canvas and painted till dark.  All these works were based on the configuartion of just four rocks to the very left in this photo.  Thank you Arthur Boyd and the Boyd family.