6 posts tagged “art”

This is just wonderful.

 

 

And a great read at 3 Quarks Daily -

Over three or four days I try to tell a whole town something intense which will be talked about everywhere, be it in the bakery or the bar, on the pavement or in the office... I have seen adults crying as the giant leaves.  They have obviously lived other things, sometimes difficult, and yet this makes them cry.  I don’t believe they are crying because [the Giant] is leaving but because of the loss of their imagination.  Over several days, they have dreamt as adults and now it’s finished.  Most adults have difficulty dreaming.

As I've indicated in the past, I don't mind a bit o'portraiture.  So I'll be keeping an eye out for tomorrow's announcement (Friday March 2nd) of this year's Archibald prize for portraiture.

From the ABC's Articulate blog, Robert Hannaford's Tubes (a self portrait) is the favourite to win according to the bookies.  Here's a (copyright acknowledged) copy -

..and I can see why.  Painted while the artist was undergoing treatment for lung cancer, it's a stark piece.  The thousands of small brushstrokes of oil upon canvas, the artist, naked, with only his gloves, brush, and the artifices of modern medical treatment as props, considering us, the viewers, with his face partially obscured and looking down.  Or is he looking down at himself, at his reflection as he paints his condition? 

Please forgive the prose, such as it is.  I'm looking forward to reading more from the critics after the prizewinner is announced tomorrow. 

Update 2nd March 12:30pm:  The winner's been announced and it was a portrait of artist Janet Laurence by John Beard.

Thought this was interesting, from The Guardian:

Modernism in the arts is 100 years old, because Pablo Picasso's painting Les Demoiselles d'Avignon is now 100 years old.  In 1907, the Titanic had yet to sink, cinema was a flickering newsreel of the Boer war, Scott of the Antarctic was still alive and the Wright brothers travelled to Europe to publicise their invention of powered flight.  San Francisco was still shattered by the previous year's earthquake.  But in a crowded, dilapidated warren of artists' and writers' studios on the Parisian hill of Montmartre, home to anarchy and cabaret, a 25-year-old Spanish immigrant was creating the first, and greatest, masterpiece of modern art.

The other thing I like to do while at Old Parliament House, aside from childishly mocking the painting of our current Prime Minister of course, is to hunt down Bill Leak's portrait of art critic Robert Hughes in the part of the building dedicated to the collection of the National Portrait Gallery.  I've managed to locate a representation of the work online -

 

Naturally this little piece doesn't do it justice.  It's a visceral piece of art, menacing, absolutely goosebump-inducing.  The image of Hughes appears to come out of this thick oily blackness as if he's been a part of it all along, this old and (physically) broken man in a crappy old bathrobe, constrained and straining.  But the chin's up, the stare is set - You Fuckers.  You Bastards.  You Will Not Drag Me Down.

The National Portrait Gallery has this to say about it -

Bill Leak started work on this portrait in 1999, as Hughes began filming his television series on Australia - Beyond the Fatal Shore. Hughes had filmed only two scenes when he suffered a near-fatal car accident on the coast of Western Australia.

The series was cobbled together during his agonising convalescence, and Hughes had little control over the final cut, but its negative reception led to his remark that for all he cared, they could "tow Australia out to sea and sink it". The accident led to a protracted legal process; three years later, there was still talk of extraditing Hughes from the USA to face charges. His second marriage broke down, and his only son died.

The effect of these experiences on his friend led Leak to abandon his earlier, more detailed portrait for this one, inspired by the terrifying late work of Goya, conveying Hughes' furious pain, despair and determination in the years after 1999.

Unfortunately the Gallery's had the work in storage for a bit over a year now, to the chagrin of many including the staff (just based on a couple of conversations I had with them).  Would be great if they could lend it out instead of tucking it away somewhere - everybody deserves to be as terrified as I was upon seeing it.

From my favourite place in Canberra, Old Parliament House, let's have a game of "one of these things is not like the other one".  Huzzah!

 

Gough! 

 

Australia's favourite ex-Liberal PM who's prepared to dish it out to the current Government for straying from "classical" Liberal thinking, Malcom Fraser.  He looks pretty grumpy in this photo, apparently it was only a few years ago that he decided he actually liked it after all.  Mellowing in his old age and all that.

 

Hawkey - love the way the portrait catches him in motion, he used to be in this sort of pose when speaking on the floor of Parliament.  Before I go any further, I should be fair and say that these aren't the "official" portraits of former Prime Ministers - those are up at the "new" Parliament House.  But stick with me here - those who have spent any time with me down here know where I'm going with this.

 

Keating.  This was the Archibald prize winner from years ago.  There's a story the OPH guides like to tell about how the artist (same guy who did Fraser's portrait) wasn't satisfied with the way he did the lips, he consulted photographs, Keating's wife Annita, lots of people.  Came time for the subject to come and look at it in the studio and Keating, ever the smart arse, looked the portrait over and then grabbed a brush from the palette and touched the lips up just so.  And so it was finished.

Yeah I know, I thought it was bullshit too.

Anyways, so we've got all these wonderfully austere portraits of former Prime Ministers hanging up in the King's Gallery of the old Parliament House.  Not just the former four above but most of the others going back to Barton.  Serious men, all frowny, all full of the deep considerations of running the greatest bloody country on earth.  So, let's have a look at what Mr Howard might have given us....

 

That's right - Feel the Power of Pastel for the People.  Let's get a slighter closer look -

 

Nope, still crap.  And yeah, that's right, I'm so desperate I'm accusing the Prime Minister of crimes against art now.  Though one can't help thinking Janette had something to do with it.  What's that saying, the something behind the throne... power, yeah, power, that's it!  The guide I spoke to assured me this gets a lot of comments from the public - generally negative.  Highly recommended viewing if you're ever in the neighbourhood.  Captain Grumpy - out!

Since seeing a few of the photos of street art that Davemonkey took a couple of months ago down in Melbourne, I've been meaning to take a couple of pictures of Canberra examples that I'm aware of.  When not mucking about with teddy bears yesterday, I popped down to the canal/drain thingy down in Woden and checked 'em out - not of the same quality but here they are anyway.

 

I walk past this on the way to the bus interchange nearly every day.  Probably one of my favourites, just for the light and shadow on the dude's face.  Several months ago there was a big long one along the side of the canal referencing the July 7 attacks on London commuters - maybe not the most reassuring piece to see on the way to work in the morning.  Here's a better photo of the dude and a few more of another piece up near the northern end -

 

 

 

 

Not sure if you can read the detail - it says "The Cronies of Canberra - the lyin', the rich and the warhungry".  There are other graffitti places around Canberra that are also ok, so I might get around to taking photos of those as well.  What I'd really like to see is more stencilling around the place, particularly the political kind.  For a while we had "Freedom Gestapo" ones underneath a rendition of Donald Rumsfeld but they're now long gone.

And before I go - Canberra's a dry old town at the best of times, so it means that they've been rationalising ponds and other water features.  So what used to be on ok sort of place to sit down and have a bite to eat is now quite crappy.

 

Plus there are no ducks anywhere.  Dammit.  I'm hoping by the time I take time off work to look after the boy full time that the water has magically returned and we can chase the fowl around together.