My Life In Art

I grew up in a house in the English Midlands with few pictures on the walls, but nothing I recognised as ‘art’, and it was only when I took a job in advertising in London in the mid-1960s that I decided to explore that world. So, on my way to and from work, I dropped into the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square each day and looked at three paintings – yesterday’s, today’s and tomorrow’s. Gradually I got around all that was there, but over time I realised that I was constantly being drawn back to this extraordinary Nativity by Piero della Francesca – so old, yet so modern.

I first arrived to live and work in Australia in March 1981 and soon discovered that there had been a flourishing ‘Impressionist’ movement there with its own characteristics ― driven by the unique climate, topography and light of the country. Of course, I was already fully aware of impressionism, so long as it was French ― the only kind that seemed to find its way into art books up to that time, so the fact that there had been a flourishing movement in Australia (and New Zealand) was complete news to me. A great favourite is this landscape by Arthur Streeton.

For a long time I have been fascinated by the short stories of Katherine Mansfield. The best known portrait of the writer was painted in 1918 by her friend, the American artist Anne Estelle Rice – always visited on trips to Te Papa, the New Zealand National Museum in Wellington. Quite separately, over many journeys to Scotland, I would visit the gallery in Perth devoted to Scottish Colourist JD Fergusson, gradually coming to realise that Rice and Fergusson had very similar styles and techniques. In fact, the two artists had met and become lovers in Paris around 1907. While Fergusson and three other artists have become celebrated as ‘Scottish Colourists’, Anne Estelle Rice’s work remains neglected. Because she isn’t Scottish? Because she is a woman?