David Reyne.
How often
have you stood in an art gallery staring quizzically at the framed, lurid pink
squiggle on the wall and thought to yourself, “hell, I could’ve done that”?
Perhaps
you’ve even bolted home, stopping off at the newsagent on the way for a roll of
cardboard, and a paint brush or two, convinced that you could slosh a bit of
watercolour about and get the million dollar cheque the galleries are paying
for similar kinds of work.
A couple of
hours spent in the Art Gallery of New South Wales might get you to reconsider.
A walk
through Sydney’s
beautiful Domain with its winding footpaths, copious lush gardens and gently
sloping lawns gives the feeling of wandering through a masterpiece, particularly
as you rise the crest leading to the Gallery to be confronted by its classic
sandstone façade. If it weren’t for glimpses of the Harbour
Bridge and Opera House over your
shoulder, you’d almost believe you’d stumbled upon Athens
or Rome, such
is the style and grandeur of the Gallery’s ostentatious entrance of Ionic
columns and Neo Classical portico.
It’s a
daunting welcome to any kind of building but given this holds one of the
country’s finest collections of art, you can’t help but think you’re about to
discover walls heaving with heavily framed brushwork by humourless masters
depicting depressing scenes of bloody historic battles and grim faced angels
attempting to part gloomy skies to clear way the way to heaven for emaciated,
twisted corpses. And, believe me, there are those kinds of works.
They’re not
the reason why I visited, however. I came for the Archibald Prize exhibition
which runs until the 3rd of June 2012.
Once
inside, I headed downstairs and was immediately taken by the magnificence of
the assembled work; bold, colourful, modern. Sometimes amusing and sometimes
stark.
Each of the
41 finalists in 2012’s Archibald are here. Each portrait has an accompanying
plaque explaining the work and a brief history of the artist responsible, but
it’s the undoubted skill that stops me in my tracks. There’s such a joyous
energy present. Some works are incredibly audacious with the paint looking as
if it’s been flung at the canvas from a distance, while others seem almost
photographic, such is the extraordinary detail involved.
Not once do
I find myself thinking I’d easily knock one of these up at home. Quite the
contrary. I find myself up close, marveling at the brushwork, amazed by the
piling on of layers and textures, wondering how, when viewed from only inches
away, some look nothing like they do when viewed again from the middle of the
room.
And then I
started questioning the judges’ decision. How on earth could one be deemed
‘better’ than the other? Indeed, how on earth were one or two even regarded as
being worthy to hang at all?
I
eventually realise I’ve spent three hours staring at works of art without even
noticing the passing of time. It also dawns on me that, sadly, my attempts at
sloshing a bit of watercolour upon a bit of cardboard is, exactly that -
sloshing.
We’re all
aware of the splendour of Sydney
Harbour and its
surrounds. It’s one of the most beautiful harbours in the world but never would
I have thought I’d go specifically to head indoors… to look at ‘pictures’. I’m
glad I did.
To learn about the exhibition click here
