Lee Miller and art photography
Thursday was my day off so I headed into town, got my haircut, had coffee (ie black tea) with Chris, had a phone conversation with him from the changerooms which I couldn't wait to finish (what if he guessed where I was?) and picked up new glasses. I think I now look like Paula Wriedt (embattled Labor member for Franklin) and a few other people with names I forget, kind of like a really cool geek, black narrow glasses, ponytail, white skin, red lips. I am embracing this look.
Another part of my blessed day off was rummaging through the Imperial Bookshop, an over stocked space of books, records and cds, but mostly books. I was after art books, especially of drawing, life drawing, or oil painting of nudes, being inspired by an article on Lucian Freud I'd read on in old second hand magazine. Lucian Freud's daughter Esther has written some of my favourite fiction, much of which is set in Sussex, which was where I was living when I discovered her books. I love synchronicity like that. And her father had a crowd of painter friends in the 60s including Mike Andrews, a seemingly innocuous name, whose collection of paintings I saw in London and fell in love with. MA is more of a figurative painter, but does large scenes of people-one was of a town civic cocktail party in Norfolk, another of an outdoor family lunch and then some more touching paintings of teaching his daughter to swim in Scotland.
So I thought I'd like some art books, but couldn't quite find what I wanted, not bold drawings or Norman Lindsay stuff, only collections that were of different artists and not necessarily linked by the theme I wanted, and not any photography books. Miss R once reminisced about holidaying in London and collecting photography books... So I asked her where to find the books. Turned out her wish list was for the latest Lee Miller book; and I'd just bought The Monthly with Drusilla Modjeska's piece on Lee Miller. So today I borrowed out a Lee Miller book and got my wish for photography and figures, people and places and history. Right now Miss P is flipping through it, I also caught Kieran, the manliest man I know, flipping through it as well.
Had such a good time last night with K at the wine bar, we explained our session to Anjela as a house meeting. Just the 2 of us at a communal table, trying wine (Hollicks Cabernet Sauvignon 2003; I've visited the vineyard near Andy's place) We asked Anjela what she did as a kid in Hobart and it was what kids do everywhere. Hang out in food courts. Go to the mall, any mall and loiter. I reminisced about Year 11 Australian studies, when we had to do speeches about issues that affected us, like being accused of loitering in Rundle Mall... (can you understand my despair at the triviality of some of my classmates? Thank god for Ms oothoon.)
Then we relocated to The Wagon for good old pub grub, where Kieran kept us captivated withi his explanation of patterns in numbers and golden ratios. I asked for proof about why you can only fold a piece of paper in half SEVEN times and no more. And Josh suggested that someone could invent a machine that could force the eighth fold; or that I should get Myth busters to prove that no matter how thin the paper is, it's impossible.
Another part of my blessed day off was rummaging through the Imperial Bookshop, an over stocked space of books, records and cds, but mostly books. I was after art books, especially of drawing, life drawing, or oil painting of nudes, being inspired by an article on Lucian Freud I'd read on in old second hand magazine. Lucian Freud's daughter Esther has written some of my favourite fiction, much of which is set in Sussex, which was where I was living when I discovered her books. I love synchronicity like that. And her father had a crowd of painter friends in the 60s including Mike Andrews, a seemingly innocuous name, whose collection of paintings I saw in London and fell in love with. MA is more of a figurative painter, but does large scenes of people-one was of a town civic cocktail party in Norfolk, another of an outdoor family lunch and then some more touching paintings of teaching his daughter to swim in Scotland.
So I thought I'd like some art books, but couldn't quite find what I wanted, not bold drawings or Norman Lindsay stuff, only collections that were of different artists and not necessarily linked by the theme I wanted, and not any photography books. Miss R once reminisced about holidaying in London and collecting photography books... So I asked her where to find the books. Turned out her wish list was for the latest Lee Miller book; and I'd just bought The Monthly with Drusilla Modjeska's piece on Lee Miller. So today I borrowed out a Lee Miller book and got my wish for photography and figures, people and places and history. Right now Miss P is flipping through it, I also caught Kieran, the manliest man I know, flipping through it as well.
Had such a good time last night with K at the wine bar, we explained our session to Anjela as a house meeting. Just the 2 of us at a communal table, trying wine (Hollicks Cabernet Sauvignon 2003; I've visited the vineyard near Andy's place) We asked Anjela what she did as a kid in Hobart and it was what kids do everywhere. Hang out in food courts. Go to the mall, any mall and loiter. I reminisced about Year 11 Australian studies, when we had to do speeches about issues that affected us, like being accused of loitering in Rundle Mall... (can you understand my despair at the triviality of some of my classmates? Thank god for Ms oothoon.)
Then we relocated to The Wagon for good old pub grub, where Kieran kept us captivated withi his explanation of patterns in numbers and golden ratios. I asked for proof about why you can only fold a piece of paper in half SEVEN times and no more. And Josh suggested that someone could invent a machine that could force the eighth fold; or that I should get Myth busters to prove that no matter how thin the paper is, it's impossible.
Comments
You have a new career as a social pages editor. Your review of Grape vs Knoppies vs Quarry is just so spot on, succinct. You should join me for a drink at the tennis club tonight and see where that fits into the loop. It's so cheap, has interesting decor and good views.
J,
Haven't read the new bio yet. Read one by her son, which obviously has it's weaknesses but has a really good overview of how she got into surrealism, pics of her in Hitler's bath. What's the online link? I'll add it. There was a good movie on last night called Girl in The Mirror, about Carol Jerrems and her photography in the 70s, she got very ill in 1979 and was admitted to the RHH, they showed her black and white photos of the very same corridors I know so well.