A bit more of an introduction
The third daughter of two musical parents, artistic qualities were encouraged me from a young age. We had no TV, a big box of crayons, a huge chalkboard and endless paper. We spent hours at a big old table drawing, colouring and crafting. It was a happy, creative childhood and fertile ground for an artistic passion to begin.
Although I was strongly encouraged by my teachers to pursue art, I had an instinct for other things (I wanted to be a midwife) and chose a more science oriented path. I thus turned away from all the cool kids in the art rooms and hung out with the nerdy science kids. I think I was a little fearful having watched my dad struggle for money as a musician- his whole life. I don’t regret making sure I had a qualification that meant, no matter what, I could always take care of myself albeit modestly.
In adulthood, my artist-soul stayed with me in the form of life-drawing clubs, the odd sketch or doodle. Although I thought of myself as an artist, and felt enormous confidence in my artistic-ness, I could not do what I wanted to do with a paintbrush or pencil: I needed training.
When I was in my thirties I decided to study art more seriously. Life did not feel endless as it once had, and I saw that many people leave art until retirement, which was unthinkable. Looking around, I found an odd assortment of training on offer. Mostly teachers who painted conceptual, contemporary art. These teachers warned me against being too ‘tight’ and encouraged me to paint abstract interpretations of photos with just my instinctive expression to go on. There was an odd and confounding set of theories to go along with this ‘training’. I produced some awful pictures. I floundered, confused and lost in this new language of art I did not understand.
I will forever be grateful to have found and lived near Julian Ashton’s art school in Sydney. There I encountered a set of extraordinary teachers – each with their own special set of artistic skills to impart. I mainly studied with Keith Dewell (who now runs studio 34, Berry) For years Keith put me through drills in figure painting until I understood something about shape, tone, edge control, colour, and form. Andrew Paviour taught me a more anatomically informed and flowing life-drawing technique. His kindness and quiet genius still light up memories of those classes. There were many others who influenced me, challenged me and taught me traditional artistic skills. I found all of it totally thrilling. I eventually won the John Olsen Scholarship and was blessed with a year of full-time study. I had the time of my life, burning the candle at both ends, working nights on the weekends, and painting all week. That year really pushed my skills along. I would encourage anyone who wants to have these skills, to pursue them early in life and as intensively as time, money, and energy permit. Working frequently, diligently, and with a sound foundation will significantly improve your abilities. These skills will open up possibilities for you to express your artistic heart, even if you want to move in an abstract direction.
I now continue my art practice all over Sydney at life-drawing and portraiture clubs and paint on my own almost daily. I know that my painting needs time and space to thrive, and this I have to carve out in a busy working city life.
My studio in Lilyfield