Posts Tagged: art
In The Australians, published by Rigby Limited in 1966, Robert Goodman and George Johnston’s first chapter concerns The Land.
In 1962 an American photographer, Robert Goodman, conceived of an idea to produce a picture book on Australia.
How about visiting the Ross River cattle station? A billy tea and damper picnic near the historic homestead.
Most of the information I’ve collected about Eric Thake has come from the State Library of Victoria website.
A couple more images from the National Gallery of Australia book Printed images by Australian artists 1885-1955.
The National Gallery of Victoria has this lovely Eric Thake watercolour, pastel, and charcoal drawing in their collection.
Progressive, unmarried, upper middle class women like Violet Teague and Una Teague were expected to get on with things.
As Violet and Una Teague get closer to Central Australia, Violet creates some stunning abstractions using the colours and shapes around her.
In 1933, a year before Albert Namatjira met artist Rex Battarbee, the “can do” artist Violet Teague set out to visit Central Australia with her sister, Una.
When I was reading about Albert Namatjira, I found Victorian artist Violet Teague had a close connection to him.
Unless aboriginal artist Albert Namatjira overcomes his worries over white men he will never paint again.
One of the residents of the Hermannsburg mission in central Australia was Albert Namatjira. He showed a keen interest in Rex Battarbee’s watercolours. Rex taught him all he knew, including how to sign his name in the white man’s way,
My niece and nephew’s writing about their time in the USA got me thinking about our own central Australia.
When the pilgrims arrived on the shore of the new world, they found a secularization of the Garden of Eden;
If there’s one thing that visiting America will teach you, it’s that there’s simply no other place like it.
Architects often favor incongruity with the surrounding environment in order to imbue their work with gravitas.
Along the Arizona-Utah border, just off Highway 163 and deep within the Navajo reservation there lies a series of stratified plateaus, which sit like great fists of rock, pounding a docile plain. It looks like something out of a movie,
There is a stanza in Emily Dickinson’s “I died for beauty” that examines the inevitable supremacy the natural world holds over the follies of mankind.
Upon his first visit to New York City, early 20th century novelist O. Henry commented; “It’ll be a great place, if they ever finish it.”
In the both universal and sheepish pursuit of metropolitan voyeurism, windows seem to garner the bulk of attention.
When one thinks of the dense and dark forests of a Grimm tale, each creaking bough the home of some mythical monster of Germanic villagers’ construction, one doesn’t immediately connect this imagery with the surrounds of upstate New York.
I only spent three days in East Hampton, Long Island but it didn’t take long to be struck by the strangeness of it all.