On reflection, I should have worn a cravat , corduroy pants and jacket, and spats to make a bigger impact on one and all when I took my teenage grand- daughter, Lily, on a tour of the Brisbane Art Gallery . She was down from Darwin on her way to Townsville, a diverse artistic outpost with its Perc Tucker Gallery , the raw beauty of the reef and rainforest inspiring many painters, photographers and potters. I had volunteered to act as her guide , showing her some of the attractions and cultural facilities of the Queensland capital , which has just undergone a controversial revamp of the King George Square , where the giant kangaroo statues are a major attraction .
That she was artistically inclined was evident after she drew a baby in a foetus smoking a cigarette with the clear message that fags are no good for you and your child, which went on show at Casuarina shopping centre. Unfortunately , she now smokes , as does her mother , and I had the urge to hide her cigarette lighter during the Brisbane cultural tour.
At the art gallery I gave her the benefit of my artistic knowledge, having frequented auction rooms in Sydney -including the first held by Christie's in Australia - Auckland and Adelaide , attended Archibald Prize awards and collected books on art . I gave her a running commentary on such painters as Charles Blackman who was represented by his blue Alice in Wonderland and some of his earlier paintings, one being of the first 24 hour service station in Brisbane ; wild eyed Brett Whiteley in his seven incarnations , which includes a wolf and a cicarda, and the sombre Calcutta , using pictures of the hard life there and what looks like part of a twisted, dehydrated body ; Sidney Nolan of Ned Kelly fame ,who spent time in Alice Springs ; Russell Drysdale, also connected with the Territory , whose son and wife both committed suicide ,one of his paintings hanging in Rupert Murdoch's office in the Wall Street Journal
There were early paintings of Sydney Harbour by Arthur Streeton , the distinctive works of Dorritt Black and lively Margaret Olley , she of the husky voice ( fags and libations? ) and a constant twinkle in the eye. We viewed four Papunya bark paintings , early Australian sculptures and emu eggs incorporated in colonial silver work depicting Aborigines, kangaroos , emus and even a camel .
A real find were paintings by the Hermit of Bribie Island , Ian Fairweather, and a special video display which included the flimsy raft he built in Darwin and set sail for Portuguese Timor in l952. The sail made from a bedsheet, the flag of his native Scotland attached to the mast, he nearly perished, refused help from a passing vessel, hallucinated and landed on Roti . Authorities believed he had died and his death notice was published. Lily took a picture of the raft for me as I intend following up Fairweather’s time in the Territory.
Did Lily benefit from the grand guided tour? We separated in the Queen Street Mall as she went to buy socks, and returned to say she had seen something unusual which she wanted to photograph : a raised large garden mainly planted with chilli bushes covered in masses of red and yellow fruit, filling the frame of her digital camera. Forget the Campbell Soup labels which made a bundle for Andy Warhol, whose diverse collection was exhibited at the gallery last year, budding artist Lily is on to something hot.
That she was artistically inclined was evident after she drew a baby in a foetus smoking a cigarette with the clear message that fags are no good for you and your child, which went on show at Casuarina shopping centre. Unfortunately , she now smokes , as does her mother , and I had the urge to hide her cigarette lighter during the Brisbane cultural tour.
At the art gallery I gave her the benefit of my artistic knowledge, having frequented auction rooms in Sydney -including the first held by Christie's in Australia - Auckland and Adelaide , attended Archibald Prize awards and collected books on art . I gave her a running commentary on such painters as Charles Blackman who was represented by his blue Alice in Wonderland and some of his earlier paintings, one being of the first 24 hour service station in Brisbane ; wild eyed Brett Whiteley in his seven incarnations , which includes a wolf and a cicarda, and the sombre Calcutta , using pictures of the hard life there and what looks like part of a twisted, dehydrated body ; Sidney Nolan of Ned Kelly fame ,who spent time in Alice Springs ; Russell Drysdale, also connected with the Territory , whose son and wife both committed suicide ,one of his paintings hanging in Rupert Murdoch's office in the Wall Street Journal
There were early paintings of Sydney Harbour by Arthur Streeton , the distinctive works of Dorritt Black and lively Margaret Olley , she of the husky voice ( fags and libations? ) and a constant twinkle in the eye. We viewed four Papunya bark paintings , early Australian sculptures and emu eggs incorporated in colonial silver work depicting Aborigines, kangaroos , emus and even a camel .
A real find were paintings by the Hermit of Bribie Island , Ian Fairweather, and a special video display which included the flimsy raft he built in Darwin and set sail for Portuguese Timor in l952. The sail made from a bedsheet, the flag of his native Scotland attached to the mast, he nearly perished, refused help from a passing vessel, hallucinated and landed on Roti . Authorities believed he had died and his death notice was published. Lily took a picture of the raft for me as I intend following up Fairweather’s time in the Territory.
Did Lily benefit from the grand guided tour? We separated in the Queen Street Mall as she went to buy socks, and returned to say she had seen something unusual which she wanted to photograph : a raised large garden mainly planted with chilli bushes covered in masses of red and yellow fruit, filling the frame of her digital camera. Forget the Campbell Soup labels which made a bundle for Andy Warhol, whose diverse collection was exhibited at the gallery last year, budding artist Lily is on to something hot.
STRUGGLING ARTIST NOTE : While sitting in the Queen Street Mall, another day, reading The Australian for less than half the price it costs in Darwin , a guy sidled up , sat down and asked , "Are you that bestselling writer bloke?” Fame - at long last ? No . You see he was an “ artist” up from Sydney and there was nowhere for his works, in storage, to be exhibited for the Brisbane art world to salivate over . Did I have a couple of dollars I could give him to bail out his etchings? Serves me right for pretending to be gabby Toulouse Lautrec fired up on absinthe in the art gallery.
