DRYSDALE AND THE MURDOCHS

Sight  impaired artist, Russell   Drysdale   (1912-1981),see right, presented  Australia  and  its outback  people , including  Aborigines, in  a  stark  new  light  and  was  much  admired  by   the   Murdoch  family.   Drysdale  was  born  at  Bognor Regis ,Sussex, and  came to Australia with  his parents.  The   retina of  his  left  eye  was  detached when  he was  17; he began to study  art in Melbourne ,  later   in  London  and  Paris .  Early  in  his  life  he  worked  on  the  family owned  Pioneer  Sugar  Plantation  on  the  Burdekin River, North Queensland, and  enjoyed  his time  there  so much  that  he  called  it  his  spiritual  farm  .  He   got  on  well with  his  uncle, Cluny Drysdale ,who  ran   the place, and accompanied  him  on a   trip back  to England .  He   arrived  back  in  Australia  in  l939, just  when  Sir  Keith  Murdoch , of   the  Melbourne  Herald  , brought  out  a  collection  of  modern  French  and  British  art , the  most  important exhibition  ever  to  visit  Australia .

Another  great view - SBS screen grab.

In  his  first  2008  Boyer Lectures ,  media  magnate , Rupert  Murdoch ,  above , son of Sir Keith , opened   by  saying  that  on  the wall  of his office  at  The Wall Street Journal ,  with a view across  Manhattan to the Statue of  Liberty , is a  Russell  Drydale  painting  which  had  travelled with him around the world. Called  The Stockman and His Family, Murdoch said  its sentimental value  was beyond  the  artistic merit. ..There  were flourishes  of  the  theme  he wanted to discuss  about the  place of  Australia in this century of opportunity.
 

Murdoch  said -For  those  of   you  tragically  unaware of  the artistry of  Drysdale, I suggest that you Google him. Drysdale  was among the early modernists. In his day, he became Australia's most famous artist. More than that, he was one of the   first Australian artists to gain a truly international reputation. He  did this with canvases that  are at once utterly modern and distinctly Australian—with images that reflect the glory and the desolation of the outback It depicts a family using Drysdale's trademark red hues, and it captures the empathy of shared solitude. That solitude is a characteristic of our vast continent. In its midst, we are inevitably conscious of our individual smallness.

NEVER  NEVER   DRIVES

I have vivid memories of  long and  dusty drives  into  the  Never Never—whose  sparseness  inevitably  prompts  even the  most  thoughtless   among  us  to contemplate. (This  comment  may have been  a  reference  to  the  long  car  trips  he made   to  Darwin , from Mount   Isa,  after   buying  the  NT  News ( and Mount  Isa Mail) in the  old  Tin Bank days in Darwin  ,  which  will  be covered  in the  serialised  biography  of  crusading  editor  Jim  Bowditch .)

 

Continuing,  he said ...When  Drysdale's  canvas  catches  my  eye, it  of course reminds  me of  home and of  Australia's past and of my own past. It must be said that the  protagonist  is  Aboriginal  and  his   ancestors   (our ancestors)  experienced  the  vicissitudes  and  violence of  nature  long  before  the  coming of  European settlement.  The continent  was  the same, the summers as  unrelenting,  the gums  as  ghostly. These are more than just shared  circumstances  but  a  common heritage—one  that  is  denied  in the  dialectical deconstruction of  the  Aboriginal  experience, for  political points  are  too  often scored at the  expense  of  understanding.

 

But  the  stockman  scene  also  points to the future. His family have  clearly endured much hardship. They've been confronted  by  the heat  and ochre dust in a way that  few of us city slickers really experience. And yet there is a steeliness and  closeness  that  suggest  that  this family is ready for the future. Our national character should never lose that  steeliness.
 

GALLIPOLI INCOMPETENCE

 

We are all less innocent than we were 100 years ago. One of the most touching scenes in any small Australian town  is the local war memorial, whether in the Mallee, out  west, or up north. I suggest that every young Australian take a few moments to look at the names of those who left these towns and fought in distant wars. Can you possibly imagine what it was like for a lad to have left the wheat farm and found himself months later confronting a cliff and a machine-gun in the Dardanelles? Today there is nothing sadder than visiting the graves of  thousands of 19- and 20-year-old Australians  at Gallipoli.

My father, then  a  young war correspondent,  was outraged by the mismatch between Australian enthusiasm and British  logistical  incompetence  at  Gallipoli.  He  was outraged too by the censorship that allowed that incompetence  to continue to go unpunished. We were all certainly less innocent after the Great War. But we must do more than just celebrate  past  heroism if  we are to confront the future with confidence.The First World War was the beginning of the end of our splendid isolation, and we have never been less isolated than we are now, 90 years later. Australia's identity is again undergoing dramatic change. We are fashioning it, and it is being fashioned by external influences.

Our leading trade partners are the great nations of Asia,  not  mother England. European languages are generally less functional for  our children  than  Chinese, Japanese, and Indonesian—though I'd put in  a special word for Spanish  for  its  utility  in  Latin America  and  the  United States .  NEXT :  Dame  Elisabeth  Murdoch  backs  Drysdale   book .