The names Norman Lindsay and Brett Whiteley are among a treasured cache of artists whose work is at the forefront of Australian art. Generations apart, they were opinionated, prolific, precocious, passionate, rebellious, bohemian, and extraordinarily talented.
Often mocking authority, these protagonists became vanguards of controversy. Beacons for those who aspired
to being non-conforming trailblazers, they both became slaves to their own dependencies - although Lindsay's was more visceral and hedonistic.
He lived to the ripe age of 90. Whiteley sadly wrestled heroin addiction until it finally took his life in 1992, aged 53.
His sculpture of two identical clocks sitting side by side and hanging in his Surry Hills Studio says it all.
One has the numbers shoved parabolically into one quadrant, simply titled underneath - Heroin. His time had run out.
Although Whiteley lived in Sydney's Lavender Bay, it's his Surry Hills studio that captivates.
Raper St is a quiet, orthodox Surry Hills laneway and the only hint of a gallery is the twin redhead match sculpture (one burned) beside the doorway on the building approaching on the right.
The moment you walk in, you're instantly greeted by the head-spinning masterpiece, Alchemy. It's a monolithic feast of hypnotic imagery that is Whiteley's journey of discovery, enlightenment and his ascension into the heavens of 1970s pop culture.
I know this painting all too well and instinctively feel like I've just run into an old mate. A print hangs on my home wall and I used to regularly trek to the Art Gallery of New South Wales just to walk the length of it.
It cascades down two walls and you need a good half hour to take in the allegory Whiteley is trying to impart here.
A quick glance around Whiteley's Studio & Gallery and you become aware that this is a magnificent collection of his work. It's broad and unforgiving and includes paintings from his perspective of Sydney Harbour to his unabashed admiration for the absinthe-soaked Vincent.
Another painting I've admired for years yet only seen in books was done when he visited Paris. It hangs upstairs. It's a fish-eye view of a footpath edged by a wall, snaking its way to a small cluster of Parisian city bridges.
The foreground has several streaks creeping across the footpath. It's mostly an oil sketch, as he tended to do. I'd never known its title until this point and I laughed loudly - The 15 great dog pisses of Paris.
The upstairs studio feels as if Whiteley were about to strut into the room and prattle on while applying more paint to a canvas.
The studio itself is set up for you to spend hours acquainting yourself with his volume of work. Books, magazines and a large sofa make a perfect invitation to laze away a Sydney Sunday.
Seated with an old handset, I listen to his archival interview with the ABC's Andrew Olle. It's very entertaining. They may as well be sitting in a quiet corner of a pub just chatting away. Whiteley is laid bare and no subject taboo.
Yet trying to understand him can be a tortuous exercise with the end result a possible conundrum. I've personally given up, just admiring his legacy for what it is and relishing the artistic inspiration he provides.
The gallery is now in its 16th year, only open weekends and yet manages some 10,000 visitors a year. Do it and you will dine out on it for months.
A leisurely two-hour drive from Sydney to the Blue Mountains leads you to the Norman Lindsay Gallery and Museum. Nestled among a forested 17ha estate is his home, studio and, these days, museum.
It's here that Lindsay produced a sheer abundance of work across a variety of media: pen and ink, water colour, oils, copper plate etching, sculpture, and beyond to books.
Foremost, he was a cartoonist and illustrator for The Bulletin in Sydney for 50 years. This event-filled period saw the Federation of Australia, two world wars and the Great Depression.
He was also in remarkable company at The Bulletin. Miles Franklin, Livingston Hopkins, Henry Lawson, Banjo Paterson and David Low, to name just a few, were part of its stable. The Bulletin provided the
The Norman Lindsay studio shows off his abundant work and obsession with the female form.
effort
platform for him to pursue his diverse passions. Fond of a good yarn, he penned two autobiographies and 11 novels, including The Magic Pudding, which became a classic of Australian children's literature.
His novel The Age of Consent was a thinly veiled cameo of his life and with some irony, in 1969 - the year of his death - it was brought to the cinemas, starring James Mason and a very nubile Helen Mirren.
His obsession with the adoration of the femme fatale, along with his bohemian lifestyle, became the focal point of another movie, Sirens, starring Hugh Grant, Sam Neill and Elle Macpherson.
His most controversial pen and ink work, The Crucified Venus, brought condemnation from the church and was withdrawn from a Melbourne art exhibition until the then-president of the Society of Artists stepped in and demanded it be rehung or all the works would be withdrawn.
Art critic Robert Hughes is wryly credited with saying that Lindsay discovered the female breast at an early age and spent his life painting it.
True, the vast majority of his work is dedicated to a "Greco-Australian Neo-Pagan aesthetic". Nymphs and sirens cascade in all manner of mythological erotica and were mere ammunition for his puritanical detractors.
He vehemently despised what he termed "wowserism", ignorance in mob mentality, especially when it came to his art. The man was simply way ahead of his time. For me, I love nothing more than to flick through volumes of his pen and ink work and sink in admiration of his skill.
With Lindsay's estate now looked after by the National Trust and Whiteley's by the Art Gallery of NSW, their studios are lovingly nurtured as living galleries. A rare treat for art followers and a thoroughly recommended pilgrimage.
Galleries
What: Norman Lindsay Gallery & Museum
Where and when: 14 Norman Lindsay Cres, Faulconbridge, New South Wales, 10am-4pm, 7 days
Online: www.normanlindsay.com.au
What: Brett Whiteley Studio & Gallery
Where and when: 4 Raper St, Surry Hills, Sydney, open to public weekends only, 10am-4pm Online: brettwhiteley.org
A pilgrimage worthy of the effort
Norman Lindsay and Brett Whiteley. Illustration / Rod Emmerson
The names Norman Lindsay and Brett Whiteley are among a treasured cache of artists whose work is at the forefront of Australian art. Generations apart, they were opinionated, prolific, precocious, passionate, rebellious, bohemian, and extraordinarily talented.
Often mocking authority, these protagonists became vanguards of controversy. Beacons for those who aspired
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