ELWYN “JACK” LYNN

“The traces of time are all around us and they have little effect on our senses that is, until it becomes time to paint the house”.

Elwyn Lynn

When he saw the work of the European artists Antonio Tapies and Emil Schumaker in 1958 Lynn’s eyes were opened to the visual excitement that time and the elements can induce. He was touring Europe and had seen their paintings at the Venice Biennale and was astounded that the weathering effect on ordinary everyday items could be the subject for sublime works of art.

He became an immediate enthusiast for textural paintings and was eager to explore the possibilities of this new form of expression and how it could relate to Australia with all its variables and ruggedness of climate.

Texture painting fitted perfectly into the Australian artistic oeuvre, but intellectually in the 50’s it was astray. Australia was isolated and not ready for abstraction – World War II was still fresh in the memory and abstraction was viewed as an international conspiracy. The influence of the traditional and modern figurative painters was in power and difficult to dislodge.

Lynn viewed this disinterest as a challenge and in addition to creating visually uplifting works he applied an intellectual component and titled his works accordingly.

He trusted that the viewer after digesting the visual and tactile elements of the artwork would search for the meaning of the title and understand how the piece fitted the name – unfortunately his trust was in vain. Very few rose to the challenge and visually his work failed to interest those outside of the major collecting institutions.

Lynn provided for his family through teaching, writing and critiquing and every spare moment saw him at work in his studio persisting and finding satisfaction in his output. He never lost confidence in his direction and persevered until the end. He knew that his position in Australian Art History could not be undone and the time for wider appeal of his works would arrive.

When he saw the work of the European artists Antonio Tapies and Emil Schumaker in 1958 Lynn’s eyes were opened to the visual excitement that time and the elements can induce. He was touring Europe and had seen their paintings at the Venice Biennale and was astounded that the weathering effect on ordinary everyday items could be the subject for sublime works of art.

He became an immediate enthusiast for textural paintings and was eager to explore the possibilities of this new form of expression and how it could relate to Australia with all its variables and ruggedness of climate.

Texture painting fitted perfectly into the Australian artistic oeuvre, but intellectually in the 50’s it was astray. Australia was isolated and not ready for abstraction – World War II was still fresh in the memory and abstraction was viewed as an international conspiracy. The influence of the traditional and modern figurative painters was in power and difficult to dislodge.

Lynn viewed this disinterest as a challenge and in addition to creating visually uplifting works he applied an intellectual component and titled his works accordingly.

He trusted that the viewer after digesting the visual and tactile elements of the artwork would search for the meaning of the title and understand how the piece fitted the name – unfortunately his trust was in vain. Very few rose to the challenge and visually his work failed to interest those outside of the major collecting institutions.

Lynn provided for his family through teaching, writing and critiquing and every spare moment saw him at work in his studio persisting and finding satisfaction in his output. He never lost confidence in his direction and persevered until the end. He knew that his position in Australian Art History could not be undone and the time for wider appeal of his works would arrive.

Townscapes and landscapes and the creatures that inhabited them, all form part of the imagery that John Santry is famous for.

One of the first Australian artists to paint rural and urban scenes, his drawing skills and discipline allowed him to capture the areas he frequented, in a style unique to himself.

With his figure studies, he was able to find that hint of larrikin that permeates Australian society. His pastoral landscapes (that were usually painted on a Saturday) contain a serenity and stillness that became his hallmark.

Before the arrival of the émigré artists from Europe, the landscape was the main source of inspiration for the locals. Santry along with fellow members of the Northwood Group would pack their kits on most Saturday mornings and head to the countryside to paint. They wouldn’t return until dusk. George Lawrence, Lloyd Rees and Roland Wakelin were the other members and Douglas Dundas occasionally joined them.

They were sober trips, full of fun and work, with the ritual baked rabbit, pickled onion and bread roll being the meal of the day. The camaraderie between the group remained until the last. At some times they were each others crutch and at others a source of amusement. Wakelin would say “what’s the point in having friends if you can’t poke fun at them.”

Drawing skills and figurative work set Santry apart from the others. He conducted drawing classes from his home on Thursday afternoons and two of his early students were Brett Whiteley and Michael Johnson. He thought Whiteley was a talented showman with a great ability to draw portraits and Johnson equally as gifted though quieter.

Both established profiles much higher than his. He was never envious and drew comfort from his early and significant influence in their development.

Santry didn’t pursue critical success and never worked with large canvases. He had little need, as he was able to capture the breadth of the landscape on a small panel, and the spirit of a person with a few brush strokes.

He wasn’t a showman he was just quiet and disciplined, with a fine sense of humour.

Kathleen O’Connor’s return to Australia from France in 1948 had an unfortunate consequence. Australian Customs in Fremantle impounded the artworks that she had sent from her Parisian studio and demanded 20% duty. The Custom’s officials had determined that as the paintings were foreign and had come to Australia for sale, duty was applicable. Unfortunately no amount of pleading by the artist or high powered intervention on her behalf could alter that ruling.

As she could not afford to pay the total duty, only 150 of the works survived and the balance was destroyed. In 1948 Australia, there were no arts programs in place to assist in her plight and we are left to ponder the enormity of the loss from a cultural and historical perspective. It was said that Miss O’Connor was vigilant in ensuring that the works she couldn’t afford to keep, were destroyed and did not get redirected.

Born in New Zealand in 1876 Kathleen O’Connor arrived in Western Australia in 1891. Her father, the celebrated engineer C.Y. O’Connor, had accepted the position of Engineer-in Chief with the Western Australian Government. She studied at the Perth Technical School under JWR Linton and at the Bushey School of Art in London under Frank Brangwyn and Hubert von Herkomer.

O’Connor settled in Paris in 1910 and apart from the war years lived and worked there until her return to Australia in 1948. She associated with many artists of her time including, Vuillard, Sickert, van Dongen, Modigliani and Chagall. Her Australasian associates included Rupert Bunny, Frances Hodgkins and Roy de Maistre.

Kathleen O’Connor identified the sitter in this work as Frances Hodgkins to Daniel Thomas during an interview. It was one of those works she chose to include in the 150 pieces she could afford to keep.