Hulda Guzman - A Unique Self-portrait

For me, one of the highlights of the recent Triennial at the National Gallery of Victoria was the painting “Daily Ceremony, 2022” produced by Hulda Guzman, an artist of the Dominican Republic.  It’s one of the most inventive self portraits I’ve seen in recent times and includes her pet rooster and prancing cats.  In the NGV magazine, she describes the work as an autobiographical narrative, depicting a ritualistic summoning of creative energy.   

The setting is a new studio she designed with her father in a very remote area in the Dominican Republic where her nearest neighbour is at least 2 kilometres away.  She claims to have been inspired by the themes and ideas of the surrealists, but she does not reference dreams and other states of consciousness in her work.  Instead, she is more interested in the “hidden parts of ourselves - all those energies that come into play, the things that are not perceivable to our senses, such as our fears and demons that we try to repress.”

Daily Ceremony 2022, Hulda Guzman, synthetic polymer paint and gouche on cedar & mahogany, 140.6 x 122 cm

The triangles of light, the prancing cats and the symmetry are intended to invoke the cheerfulness, buoyancy, high vibration and celebration of creative energy and the uplifting energies of nature and consciousness. 

Guzman tells us that the dance session becomes a meditative practice to seek peace and to channel the inspiring Taino spirit, which appears as an outline in the triangle of light.  This spirit is a central concept in art and ritual to the Caribbean peoples, and was thought to inhabit trees, stones and other aspects of the landscape.

She also explains the importance of being in the right headspace when producing her work.  “When I’m painting and experiencing positive vibrations, I believe these vibrations transfer into the painting and the viewer afterwards.”  The feedback she gets from viewers of her work correspond to how she feels when painting.  “It’s a beautiful thing, and it makes me relate to people that way.  I would never want to transfer any negative emotions, so I always make sure I’m in the right headspace when I paint.” 

When I think of the headspace I often find myself in when painting, it’s a wonder I can produce anything at all, let alone being able to mount exhibitions and sell my work.  But this article and Guzman’s work gives me cause for thought and to perhaps be more appreciative of the creative spirit that, I believe, lurks within all of us. 

Hulda Guzman’s paintings  often depict tropical settings and naturalistic motifs.  She has two sisters, one a sculptor and the other a filmmaker.  “Daily Ceremony 2022” has been purchased by the NGV. 

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The year 2024 is fast becoming the year of the female artist, judging by what I’ve seen so far.  At Geelong Gallery there is an enormous print exhibition staged by Dianne Fogwell.  It consists of 56 hand printed panels featuring linocuts, woodcuts, burn drawings and pigmented ink on paper. It runs until 28th July.

Dianne Fogwell at Geelong Gallery

At Niagara Gallery in Melbourne recently, there was the exhibition “Lifting The Veil” consisting of paintings by Julia Ciccarone, one of my favourite local artists. 

Julia Ciccarone, "We Are All Stories In The End" 2023, oil on linen, 122 x 183 cm

And recently at Australian Galleries in Collingwood there was an exhibition of paintings, drawings and ceramics by Mary Tonkin titled “Both Sides Now”.

Mary Tonkin, "Coprosma Madonna, Kalorama", 2021-22, oil on linen, 320 x 610 cm (Australian Galleries)

References;

NGV Magazine

Robert Hughes' Strange Memoir

This would have to be one of the strangest books I’ve ever read, which might explain why I couldn’t find it on the inter library loan system.  The strangeness is highlighted by the fact that the story ends in 1970 when Hughes jets off to the US to become art critic for Time Magazine.  One would have thought that 513 pages would have been sufficient to cover his entire life, rich and varied as it was, but no.  Perhaps there was meant to be a second edition, although he completed this one six years before his death.

Robert Hughes (The Guardian)

Those who remember the Australian art critic and writer Robert Hughes (1938 - 2012) will recognize the irony in the title “Robert Hughes - Things I Didn’t Know”. He was known for his forthright, even rambunctious views on just about everything.  But the book begins with a harrowing account of his near fatal car crash in the north of Western Australia in 1999.  It seems we had a different Robert Hughes, physically and in other respects after that episode. 

He had a Catholic upbringing and was educated at a strict Jesuit boarding school. For mine, he banters on for far too long about his early life.  His distant father whom he clearly idolised was a World War One fighter pilot and later became a solicitor before dying when Robert was only 12.  Hughes was the youngest of four by far and his father’s death affected him greatly.  Although he rambles on and on about his father’s wartime experiences, Hughes does come up with some interesting anecdotes.  Such as Allied high command’s point blank refusal to issue its pilots with parachutes, for the dubious reason that such safety devices would reduce the fighting spirit of the pilots and give them an easy way out.  “This appalling callousness condemned many pilots to be roasted alive, thousands of feet in the air, as their stricken little planes spiraled helplessly to earth…”  Apparently, some pilots chose to simply bail out without parachutes - who could blame them.

Riverview St Ignatius College, Sydney

The eloquence of Hughes’ writing is evident in his summation of the futility of WW1 and the contrast to the objectives of WW2.  “Hitler had to be stopped, and  his defeat did save the human race from unimaginably worse  slaughters.  No such historical necessity excused the deaths of millions of boys in 1914-18.  Because of the killing by a Serbian terrorist of an Austrian archduke whose life wasn’t worth a jackeroo’s finger, because of the ineptitude of Europe’s civil and military leaders and the indifference of old men (including British Prime Minister Lloyd George - I believe) to the fate of the young, they were sucked into the immense vortex of the most vilely useless mass conflict in modern history…” 

Hughes found life in the Jesuit boarding school, Riverview in Sydney, repressive and beatings were common.  However he heaps great praise on Father Wallace who was the headmaster and who allowed Hughes access to books that were outside the limited curriculum of the college.  Father Wallace paved the way to Hughes becoming a fully articulate writer.

As Hughes tells the story, he attained the role of art critic almost by accident.  His predecessor at The Observer in Sydney was sacked after being critical of an exhibition which, as it turned out, he hadn’t seen.  Hughes was an illustrator for the magazine and that was good enough for the editor, the celebrated social commentator Donald Horne.  But as Hughes explained, there was very little art in Australia in the late 1950’s and early ‘60s to be critiquing.  He also briefly wrote criticism for, and contributed cartoons to The Mirror, until Rupert Murdoch took it over and slashed his wages.

Ian Fairweather on Bribie Island c 1966 (Art Gallery of New South Wales)

One of his more amusing anecdotes involved a trip with the artist Jon Molvig to visit the “sage of Bribie Island”, Ian Fairweather.  The trip was hair raising enough due to Molvig’s heavy drinking, but upon arrival they discovered Fairweather in a disheveled state, his front teeth were missing, one foot was wrapped in rags after he’d been bitten by a goanna and he was living in leaky Balinese huts.  It was obvious to Hughes and Molvig that the foot was gangrenous and they had to almost drag him to the mainland for treatment. 

So appalled was Fairweather’s Sydney dealer with the state of his paintings, she sent him a roll of the finest Belgian flax canvas which would have cost a fortune.  Fairweather used the canvas to plug holes in his hut and went on painting on damp cardboard with house paint.

Hughes never felt comfortable in the Australia of his youth.  He disliked the bush and the beach - inside a house, or even better a cafe seemed to be his natural habitat.  Eventually he realised that he had to head off overseas.   He left for Europe in 1964. 

Thanks to contacts he developed with the likes of renowned Australian author Alan Moorehead and art historian Herbert Read, Hughes began his writing career.  He is particularly indebted to Moorehead, having spent some time living with him and his wife in Italy.  He writes at great length about the impact Italian culture had on him (particularly the gardens of Bomarzo), which he was able to enjoy before these sites were “wrecked” by tourism.  But he believes that his years in central Italy, being exposed to great religious art, had transformed him from a guilt ridden, young ex-catholic who was haunted by the critical gaze of strongly catholic family into a relatively guilt free agnostic - more at ease with the world. 

So he left for London and soon found work there, contributing to the Sunday Times and later the Sunday Telegraph.  He was scathing of the youth underground of the sixties in London which he claimed was based on spontaneous  hedonism, the joy of marijuana, spontaneous and uncommitted sex, and culturally illiterate, ignorant of most things older than itself.  And it was within this milieu that Hughes met his future wife, Danne Emerson.

Danne Emerson (xwhos.com)

The marriage was a disaster.  Emerson was also an expat Australian with a Catholic upbringing. Shortly after the birth of their son Danton, Danne announced that she was going to ‘find her own fucks’ and suggested the Hughes do the same.  “If there was ever a misalliance between two emotionally hypercharged and wolfishly immature people. It was our marriage.  I was as unsuited to her as she was to me.  I could no more fulfull or even predict her needs than she could mine.” 

He blames his Catholic upbringing for lacking the courage to end the marriage, at least until 1981.  He said it was like being trapped in the hull of an upturned boat, running out of oxygen yet lacking the courage to dive deeper and escape to the surface.  He claims she contracted the clap from Jimi Hendrix before passing it on to him.  But Hughes’ own track record wasn’t spotless and this was another reason for his reluctance to file for divorce - fear that Danton might become a ward of the courts. 

He is scathing of Brett Whiteley who, he suspected, introduced Danne to harder drugs which was the final nail in the marriage coffin.  He found a drug-free Whiteley to be delightful company but “The shame of addiction…is apt to make junkies into missionaries.  They like, and need, to drag others down with them.  Such aggression compensates for their own weakness and dependency with drugs.” 

Hughes describes Whiteley as a cultural mascot for the semi-cultivated, a disciple (supposedly) of Zen Buddhism who overdosed in a lonely motel room south of Sydney.  Danton died by suicide in 2001 with Hughes once claiming that they hardly knew one another.  Danne died in 2003 from a brain tumor.

The Interior of the Basilica of Santa Croce, Florence (The Guardian)

One of the most significant experiences of Hughes’ life was when he reported on the devastating Florence floods of November 1966 for BBC2.  The flood laid waste to much of the rich cultural heritage of Florence and imbued in Hughes an even greater reverence for art of the past and an antipathy for those of the avant-garde who regard the past as repressive and a dead weight that ‘new’ art had to shake off.  He acknowledges that culture does change but the idea that it can reinvent itself, like a snake shedding its skin is naïve.  He is regarded by some as a cultural conservative. 

Perhaps it was his enquiring, encyclopedic mind that prevented Hughes from reigning in his story to one volume, but it’s worth a read nevertheless.

The Photography Of Max Dupain

A major upcoming exhibition of photography at the National Gallery of Victoria brings to mind one of Australia’s most revered photographers - Max Dupain (1911 - 1992).  

Dupain produced in 1938 one of the most iconic images of 20th Century Australian photography - The Sunbaker.  It was in the 1970’s that this image really came to prominence as it was thought to represent an image of a carefree, post Vietnam War, beach loving society which gave it a social context.  There was much discussion at the time of the notion of an Australian identity - what is was to be Australian.  Apparently, Dupain regarded the image as just a holiday snap shot and he became increasingly uncomfortable with how the average viewer might add their interpretations to the image.

The Sunbaker, 1938

There is more than one version of this image, taken by Dupain at Culburra, south of Sydney.  Perhaps one of the ironies of The Sunbaker is that the subject is an English migrant, Harold Salvage who was a close friend of Dupain’s.  A print of the photograph was purchased by the National Gallery of Australia in 1976. 

Sunbaker inspired artist Julie Rrap to produce her own interpretation of the image in bronze and steel.  Believing Australia to no longer be the casual, fun loving place it was once perceived to be, she decided on trying to imagine the pose from underneath, as if the model is lying on a sheet of perspex, in order to explore the underbelly of society.

Julie Rrap, Speechless, 2017 bronze & steel (Roslyn Oxley9 Gallery)

Dupain received his first camera at the age of 12 and later joined the Photographic Society of New South Wales.  After serving in the second world war, his objectives in photography changed and he aimed to achieve a documentary truth in his image making.  He claimed that he wanted to abandon the "cosmetic lie of fashion photography or advertising illustration".

Impassioned Clay, 1936, double exposure, (National Gallery of Victoria)

Dupain embraced almost all genres in his photography - portraits, nudes, still life and later in his career, architecture including images of the Sydney Opera House under construction.  He only ever photographed in black and white, believing that this enabled him to achieve a simplicity and directness, in addition to allowing the viewer to add their own interpretation.

Collins Street Melbourne, 1946

Shortly before his death in 1992, Dupain bequeathed to his longtime studio manager and photographer Jill White, 28000 exhibition archive negatives for use by her.  Dupain was appointed an OBE in the 1982 New Years Honours list and 10 years later was made a Companion of the Order of Australia.

Australia Square Through A Keyhole, 1975

References; 

The Guardian

Wikipedia

www.maxdupain.com.au

YouTube - ABC News

My Latest Exhibition At Tacit Galleries

Interiors can include passageways to light, avenues for escape and architecture  to inspire.  Sigmund Freud had plenty to say about the significance of interiors and doorways in his book “The Interpretation of Dreams”.  If buildings are meant to shelter us from the world as Freud suggests, then what kind of shelter is being provided.  If buildings are our little kingdom, then what kind of kingdom are we rulers of?

My latest exhibition “Chambers Of The Mind” is based on paintings of fantasy church interiors and architectural capriccios produced by a number of artists in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. These works gave the artists an opportunity to show off their technical skill, and in order to enhance the grandeur of the scenes, they employed the rather dubious tactic of populated them with figures that were far too small.  And yet there is a coldness, a clinical quality to some of these paintings that appealed to me.

Late For The Wedding, oil on canvas, 71 cm x 101 cm

The settings for these classical paintings may have been imaginary, but in my re imaginings of them I have removed the figures in order to draw the viewer into the scene and explore it.  These interiors can be contemplative, exploratory and perhaps not entirely sane.

Banqueting Hall, oil on canvas, 66 cm x 86 cm

There are no religious overtones to this series.  I’m not a religious person but I do acknowledge the wonderful contribution religion has made to architecture.  It’s a matter of separating the corporeal  from the spiritual and it probably helps to be super sensitive to atmospheres.

The Cloister, oil on canvas, 71 cm x 101 cm

My art practice often includes taking the backward step of producing a drawing from an image I’ve encountered on the Net or elsewhere, so I can develop a relationship with the scene.  Occasionally I alter the composition and colours to achieve the desired effect.  The images in this series include claustrophobic spaces and vast empty ones to present different states of mind.

Searching For The Exit, oil on canvas, 51 cm x 46 cm

Inside the brain there is a storehouse of impressions, memory and experiences that can surface at different moments and it’s a matter of capturing those moments when creating.  External events impinge on our mental processes and they can spill out onto the canvas.

The Door Is Always Open, oil on canvas, 76 cm x 91 cm

The exhibition is being held at Tacit Galleries, level 1/189 Johnston Street Collingwood and runs until 29th July.

Melbourne Now

I made the mistake of reading some of the guff in the NGV Magazine prior to attending the ‘Melbourne Now’ exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria, Federation Square and was thus a little wary - but not for long.  This enormous (and free) exhibition spreads across all three levels of the gallery and showcases the work of over 200 Victorian-based artists, designers, studios and firms. 

It’s the first time since 2012 that such an exhibition had been held and it encompasses all the arts; painting, printmaking, sound, installation, video, fashion, photography, sculpture and design.  Without wanting to denigrate the exhibition, I felt like a school kid roaming around a fairground with something new to discover around every corner.

The highlight is arguably “Temple”, an installation piece by Melbourne based artist Rel Pham.  The NGV magazine describes this work as ‘an installation exploring, recontextualising, and evaluating the contemporary digital experience using Caodaist, Buddhist and Taoist concepts and structures’.  Yes, well……all I suggest is that you wander around it and absorb the experience.  But the magazine makes the good point that like much digital technology, “Temple” is difficult to synthesize in a handful of words.  It’s an intersection of technology and ancient culture.  To some degree, it is a reference to excessive consumption, social media and climate change. 

Another installation piece called “DataBaes” by Georgia Banks is a blending of reality TV dating shows and AI.  It’s disturbing in its content, but only because of the reality of ego in modern technology and our dependence on it.

“Vessels” is a collaboration between the NGV and Craft Victoria and presents the work of fifteen artists, craftspeople and designers.  The exhibit ‘expands the parameters of that useful, enduring and familiar object’.

If, by contrast, you are looking for some nostalgia, I recommend the glazed earthenware work of Lisa Reid.  Here, she presents a variety of objects from the 1950s in a form of gaudy realism.

“Fashion Now” presents the work of emerging as well as established practitioners in the realm of fashion, and it’s meant to reflect the way we feel about ourselves and the times we live in.  Walking around this exhibit had me feeling uncomfortably under-dressed.

From Taree Mackenzie comes the work “Pepper’s Ghost Effect, Circles, 4 Variations”.  According to the accompanying label, Mackenzie explores and expands on the ‘Peppers Ghost’ effect, a technique originating in 19th Century theatre which employs light and colour to create the illusion of a ghostly figure.

Hey look, a painting!!  This large scale acrylic is titled “Massa Pecatti: The 7 Deadly Sins” by the enduring Vivienne Shark Lewitt.

This is “Sky Whispers” by Meagen Streader and consists of light tape, another work commissioned by the NGV.  It’s interesting how reading the accompanying literature does nothing to enhance the  appreciation of some of these works - for me anyhow.

During the pandemic, artist Martin Bell produced this enormous work “Worthless priceless, Priceless worthless, Everything nothing, Nothing everything, No thing a thing, A thing no thing”  It’s pencil and ink on 75 sheets of Arches paper and it’s worth studying this work closely to appreciate its humour and playfulness, even nostalgia.

Martin Bell, “Worthless Priceless….” detail

For some reason, the NGV aims to acquire this work from Troy Emery called “Mountain Climber” and is seeking donations from the public to assist.  Emery’s work references taxidermy animals in museums and their removal from the context of nature which often signals their demise.  This may be the case, but I believe the gallery needs to be a little careful in its acquisition program, as work such as this is bordering on kitsch.   

I have just scratched the surface of the this exhibition with this blog, but I left it mightily impressed with the depth of talent we have in this state, and that can’t be a bad thing.

Hello, my name is Geoff. You may be interested to know that I’m a fulltime artist these days and regularly exhibit my work in Victoria, but particularly in Melbourne. You may wish to check out my work using the following link; https://geoffharrisonarts.com

Romancing The Streetscape

This is the title of a notable exhibition currently being held at the Town Hall Gallery in Hawthorn, Melbourne.  Seven local artists; Robert Clinch, Cathy Drummond, Dani Mackenzie, Andrew Browne, Rick Amor, William Breen and Mark Chu present their unique interpretations of the urban environment.

Clinch, Lot's Wife, Gouche, watercolour and dry brush on paper, 107 x 198 cm

The viewer is taken on a stroll through the streets of (mainly inner) Melbourne where a melting pot of cultures rub shoulders with one another.  The catalogue refers to a romanticism in these works that is usually associated with landscape painting.  The exhibition presents a vibrancy of colour and light in the works of some artists contrasting with the soft muted colours of Rick Amor’s work.

Clinch, Fanfare For The Common Man, 2003, egg tempera on panel, 107 cm x 105 cm

There is an absence of people from most of these paintings - as if the emphasis is on the environment that most of us spend our lives in.  At the exhibition opening,  the absence of people is noted and reference made to the recent pandemic, although most of the paintings in the show predate 2020.  But there is certainly an air of alienation in some of the works, even a nostalgia for bygone era.

Drummond, Opp Shop, 2014, oil on canvas, 102 cmx 137 cm

This nostalgia is particularly evident in the paintings of Cathy Drummond.  Her work includes garish shop fronts that have long disappeared in the rapid development and gentrification of inner Melbourne.  Her paintings are full of character where she displays no fear of colour and a great understanding of composition.  But as a poignant reminder of the reality of the human condition for many, her paintings include an image of a railway viaduct and evidence of human habitation underneath.

Clinch, Spartacus, 2013, egg tempera on panel, 107 cm x 105 cm

I have never seen an artist master the challenging medium of egg tempera the way Robert Clinch can.  The clarity of light and fine detail in his work is astonishing.  Whilst his works give the impression that they are based on photography, this is not the case.  His compositions are a collage of multiple locations to create a seemingly realistic scene which is entirely imaginary.  When speaking of his career, Clinch explains that his catholic upbringing influences the titling of his works.

Breen, Made With Love, 2012, oil on canvas, 107 cm x 214 cm

William Breen’s work is inspired by the architectural history and eclectic contemporary graffiti of the inner suburbs. In speaking of his work, Breen says “The images echo a state of suspended animation when everything slows down to a point where one can appreciate the contemplative nature of a world in balance, a world where everything is in its right place; an ideal vision.”

Mackenzie, That Little Italian Place On The Corner, 2022,  oil on canvas,107 cm x 152 cm

Dani Mackenzie is becoming a significant artist on the contemporary scene.  There is a soft focus to her quasi-photographic imagery, combining a dreamy atmospheric light with a sense of mystery, even a foreboding in some of her night time scenes.  She is credited with infusing a mystery into the banality of everyday scenes.  She spends many hours walking the streets where she lives and works, looking for images that reflect the shared experience of living in a city. 

The exhibition continues until 15th April.

Hello, my name is Geoff. You may be interested to know that I’m a fulltime artist these days and regularly exhibit my work in Victoria, but particularly in Melbourne. You may wish to check out my work using the following link; https://geoffharrisonarts.com

References;

Romancing The Streetscape, Boroondara Arts

Images Of Aradale

A friend once said to me many years ago “It’s a pain in the backside when you are driven to do something that’s not economically viable”.  By which he meant - art.  But then, perhaps it depends on what type of art practice we are talking about.

When I was at art school in the 1990’s, I was made aware of an exhibition called the Cunningham Dax collection of psychiatric art that was on show at the Victorian Artists Society in East Melbourne.  Talk about art on the edge!!  Years earlier, the head of the mental health authority in this state, Eric Cunningham-Dax, had rescued from the dumpmaster hundreds of drawings and paintings produced by patients of psychiatric hospitals.  They are now on permanent display at the Dax Centre, Melbourne University.  The last time I saw the exhibition, it had been sanitized compared to what I saw years before.  That is, not half as confronting.

Evening At Aradale, 2007 oil on canvas, 80 x 106 cm

The whole issue of mental illness, of an existence outside the mainstream, has long fascinated me.  Not to mention the history of mental illness in my family.  (Given recent events, I would imagine the prevalence of mental illness has skyrocketed generally.)  In the early 1990’s I attended an open day at the Willsmere Psychiatric Hospital in Kew just after the last patients had been removed.  Unforgivably, I left my camera home.  I didn’t make the same mistake when I visited the former Aradale facility in Ararat in western Victoria a few years later.

View From The Tower, Aradale, 2021, oil on canvas, 84 x 84 cm (available for sale on the Bluethumb website)

Aradale certainly attracted its fair share of adverse publicity over the years, largely due to underfunding by increasingly stingy governments.  It was opened for business in the late 1860’s and in its heyday was surrounded by 100 acres of land.  The facility raised its own cattle, sheep and poultry, did its own slaughtering, grew fruit and vegetables and thus was largely self-supporting.  Coal for the furnaces was about the only thing that needed to be brought in, apart from patients of course.  The facility also had its own tailors producing uniforms, a chapel and a morgue.

Winter At Aradale, 2021, oil on canvas, 66 x 86 cm (available for sale on the Bluethumb website)

Whilst facilities such as Aradale courted controversy from time to time, there is no doubt that “asylum” means refuge and sanctuary and many of the former patients would stand little chance of surviving in the outside world.  The notion of “least restrictive environment” governs mental health policy these days, thus we have the reality of “sidewalk psychotics” as the Americans call them. 

I held an exhibition of paintings based on Aradale at the  Ararat Gallery in 2004.  One of the gallery staff told me she drove past the entrance to Aradale the morning after it had closed in 1993 and saw what she believed to have been former patients gathering at the gates.  They may have been crazy, but they weren’t stupid.

Aradale Evening, 2022, oil on canvas, 71 x 86 cm (available for sale on the Bluethumb website)

Some year ago I got fully involved in exploring ‘issues’ in my art and was producing rubbish more often than not.  So while the issue of deinstitutionalization still lingers in the back of my mind, (as I see it as a symptom of a less caring society), I’ve learned to focus on the art.  Perhaps it’s better to cajole someone to a particular point of view rather than browbeating them.

Hello, my name is Geoff. You may be interested to know that I’m a fulltime artist these days and regularly exhibit my work in Victoria, but particularly in Melbourne. You may wish to check out my work using the following link; https://geoffharrisonarts.com

Hugh Ramsay - Timeless Portraiture

Although very adept at landscapes and still life painting, it’s in the area of portraiture that Hugh Ramsay made his mark - especially in portraits of children.  His output was prodigious in a tragically short career.  The forth of nine children, Ramsay was born in 1877 in Scotland and he sailed with his family to Melbourne as an infant.  The family eventually built the house “Clydebank” in Essendon in 1888 near the banks of the Maribyrnong River.

‘Clydebank’, Essendon c. 1930

He entered the National Gallery School at 16, against his father’s wishes, and made rapid progress under the disciplinarian Bernard Hall and the more popular Frederick McCubbin who was drawing master.  Later, Ramsay attended classes run by E. Phillips Fox and Tudor St George Tucker in Heidelberg.

A sketch from his days at the National Gallery School

Ramsay was very close to his family and at the tender age of 20 painted a remarkable portrait of his sister Jessie.  At this early stage of his career, the candour that characterizes his portraiture was already in evidence.

Jessie With Doll, 1897, oil on canvas, 109 cm x 54 cm

In 1900, Ramsay sailed to England and Europe.  He was hoping to qualify for a traveling scholarship but failed, so a group of friends and fellow artists got together and assisted him in raising the money required.  Whilst in Paris, Ramsay was invited to share a bitterly cold studio above a soda factory in Montparnasse with James McDonald and this studio became the setting for many of Ramsay’s portraits including self portraits which, naturally, spared him the expense of a model.

Ramsay’s studio at Montparnasse

These self portraits gave Ramsay the opportunity to experiment with composition, lighting, pose and dress.  He would study the portraits of Whistler and Sargent by day and often paint at night.

Self Portrait in White Jacket, 1901, oil on canvas, 92 cm x 73 cm

In 1902, Ramsay submitted 5 paintings to the new salon in Paris and had 4 accepted which was considered an amazing achievement.  One of the paintings was the famous portrait of Jeanne, now hanging at the National Gallery of Victoria.  She was the 6 yo daughter of his concierge and Ramsay had to bribe her with Australian stamps to sit in an uncomfortable pose.  One can almost detect a slight resentment in the sitter.

Jeanne, 1901, oil on canvas, 130 x 89 cm

Whilst in Paris, Ramsay was introduced to Dame Nellie Melba who was keen to meet this Australian artist who was making a name for himself at the time.  Melba, who was at the height of her career commissioned Ramsay to paint her portrait.  However, the combination of working too hard in a freezing studio whilst neglecting his diet took its toll on Ramsay’s health and he was diagnosed with tuberculosis.  He was advised to return to the warmer climate of Australia, which he did in 1902.

Lady In Blue, 1902 oil on canvas, 172 cm x 112 cm

The title of this painting was thought to be a nod to the way Whistler titled his works, such as “Arrangement In Grey And Black” - the portrait of Whistler’s mother.  It’s actually a portrait of James Mac Donald and his fiancé Maud Keller. 

Upon returning to Melbourne, Ramsay began painting with greater urgency partly due to his illness, greater public recognition and Melba’s patronage.  This, of course did little to ameliorate his health problems.  In 1903 he painted the portrait of Miss Nellie Patterson, Melba’s niece.  She kept slipping off the cushion and Ramsay had to bribe her with sweets.  This is one of my favourite Ramsay portraits and it’s thought to represent the greater influence that Sargent was now having on his work with its bolder brushstrokes and panache.

Miss Nellie Patterson, 1903, oil on canvas, 122 cm x 93 cm

In 1902, Melba held an exhibition of Ramsay’s work at her house in Toorak - the only solo show of his work during his lifetime.  His health continued to deteriorate and he died at ‘Clydebank’ in 1906, never having completed the Melba portrait, aged just 29.  Bernard Hall once described Ramsay as the most brilliant student in his 43 years of teaching.

Hello, my name is Geoff. You may be interested to know that I’m a fulltime artist these days and regularly exhibit my work in Victoria, but particularly in Melbourne. You may wish to check out my work using the following link; https://geoffharrisonarts.com

References;

‘Hugh Ramsay’ by Patricia Fullerton

‘Hugh Ramsay - in conversation with curator Deborah Hart’, National Gallery of Australia podcast