In the mid 1980s, with the financial assistance of the Australian Bicentennial Authority, the Queensland Art Gallery commissioned six photographers to produce a portfolio of black and white works on the theme of community life in Queensland. First exhibited in 1988, the Gallery now presents a comprehensive selection from this portfolio, allowing us to see how Queensland has, and hasn’t, changed in the intervening 28 years.
In the foreword to the original exhibition’s publication, Doug Hall, AM, then director of the Gallery, wrote that ‘Journeys North’ was ‘one of the most adventurous commissions undertaken by the Queensland Art Gallery’, and that ‘although the commission was conceived as a Bicentennial project, its importance will extend long after 1988’.1 The opportunity now to see a significant selection of these works reinforces Hall’s statement that ‘not only will the images and the commission as a whole remain as an important artistic achievement, but also the themes explored will undoubtedly remain with us for years to come’.2 The state has changed in myriad ways in the intervening years, but the fascinating observation to be made in viewing these rich images again is how much the lifestyles and landscapes depicted still resonate with us.
‘Journeys North’ focused on Queensland photography; all of the photographers involved were long-term residents of Queensland or had strong associations with the state. Graham Burstow, Lin Martin, Robert Mercer, Glen O’Malley, Charles Page and Max Pam each travelled to different regions of the state where, over a period of around 18 months, they documented the lifestyles, attitudes and values of Queensland society in the late 1980s.
Lin Martin produced a series of portraits that captured unique characters in their own environments, prompting curator Claire Williamson to note in her 1988 catalogue essay that, ‘while in many ways [Lin’s] subjects appear as “typical” Queenslanders, each has a unique personality which emerges from the rapport developed between photographer and sitter’.3 Max Pam, inspired by his memories of childhood family holidays to the Gold Coast, chose to record his experiences through the eyes of a holidaying family. Here we see the great physical variety of the landscape, as well as an often humorous account of their holiday on the move. Glen O’Malley travelled extensively through the state, from Brisbane to Cape York and west to Camooweal, Quilpie and Cunnamulla. He concentrated on the theme of domesticity, going into Queensland homes and recording their daily experiences, from watching television to watering the garden.
Graham Burstow looked at outdoor activities and particularly leisure activities, documenting Anzac Day parades, surf-lifesaving carnivals and car-part swap meets. Robert Mercer recorded Indigenous Queenslanders of the far north, focusing on local cultures and events, and particularly the importance of ceremony and dance in these communities. Charles Page chose to examine the important place of the mining industry, visiting underground and open‑cut operations in all the large mining centres of the state. His photographs examine the unique lifestyles but also the environmental impact of mining.
Individuality is evident in each artist’s contributions. Overall, however, these images present a coherent record of both the natural and social features of the state during this period. While some of the images questioned attitudes that had long been accepted in Australian community life, others reaffirmed the unique qualities of the Australian lifestyle and environment. Even though the lives of Queenslanders have clearly changed over the past three decades, the themes explored by these six photographers remain relevant to us today.
Endnotes 1 Doug Hall, ‘Foreword’, Journeys North, Queensland Art Gallery, Brisbane, 1988, p.3. 2 Hall, p.3. 3 Claire Williamson, ‘Photographic practice in Queensland in the 1980s: One aspect’, Journeys North, p.6.
Journeys North Revisited
In 1998 six photographers each produced a portfolio on the theme of community life in Queensland.
20 February – 3 July 2016
This is an extract from the upcoming Artlines magazine. Keep up to date with the Gallery’s seasonal publication delivered each quarter.
The time Charles Blackman spent in Queensland in the 1950s, late 1960s and the 1980s — and the friendships he made there — were central to his development as one of the most important Australian artists of his generation.
Brisbane beckoned us . . . painter mates in the city . . . and poet friends on their mountain.’ 1
During his time in Queensland, Charles Blackman was nurtured by several notable friendships with creative locals, who encouraged him to do some of his most innovative work. This diverse group of talented people included poet Judith Wright and her philosopher husband Jack McKinney; fellow artist Jon Molvig; gallery owners Marjorie and Brian Johnstone; modernist architect James Birrell; and the University of Queensland Press’s Frank Thompson.
Wright and McKinney had a considerable effect on the self-taught Blackman, coming to know him through Blackman’s wife, Barbara, who had developed a connection with Judith. Barbara recalls their first meeting, at which she and Blackman were the guests of a group of young Brisbane writers who produced the literary magazine Barjai:
. . . of all the Barjai guests, two magnetised me. Judith Wright, almost twice my young age, deaf with her awkward off-range voice . . . read her first book of unpublished poems, and JP McKinney, non-academic philosopher, gave a paper on ‘emotional honesty’. Both lifted me sky high and thereafter Jack-n-Judith became lifetime friends.2
Much later, Blackman also noted:
The influence of talking to Jack and Judith was a very strong one. Probably I spent as much time listening to them talking about poetry as in doing anything else . . . Jack was at his peak then, a great talker — and he helped me a great deal; he informed a lot of my interests in writing.3
The work that most honours the friendship they shared is Blackman’s painting The family 1955 (of Judith Wright, Jack McKinney and their daughter, Meredith McKinney), in the collection of the National Portrait Gallery in Canberra. The painting recalls a winter’s day picnic at Cedar Creek near Mount Tamborine. Meredith McKinney commented that:
. . . for Charles, my father was probably . . . well to say ‘father figure’ is a very simplistic thing, but the talks that he and my father had were things that sort of drew Charles into new and exciting directions.4
Blackman appears to acknowledge this link in his Portrait of Jack McKinney 1955, painted after spending the winter looking after their houseat Mount Tamborine.
Regarded as one of Australia’s finest expressionist artists, Jon Molvig came to Brisbane in 1953–54 to stay with his former East Sydney Technical College classmate, John Rigby. He returned the following year and made the city his permanent home until his death in 1970. As fellow painters, it seems inevitable now that Blackman and Molvig would meet and develop a mutual respect and friendship. In the last months of 1959, Molvig persuaded Blackman to establish an art school some kilometres from Burleigh Heads. Blackman agreed to spend weekends at the school while spending the week days at his studio in Brisbane. He recalled being driven at a furious pace to and from the Gold Coast, perched precariously beside Molvig in a diminutive Goggomobil.5 Sadly, the art school project was doomed to fail, as Betty Churcher relates in her book Molvig: The Lost Antipodean (1984): ‘The venture ended dramatically after a grass fire (started accidently during an outdoor painting class) had threatened to destroy the house and the surrounding cane farms’.6 Acknowledging Molvig’s influence, Blackman said:
I got a lot from him although he and I are just about dead opposites. I was concerned with understanding and sympathy with human beings, whereas Molvig was more concerned with the human conflict.7
Molvig’s 1957 portrait of Blackman alludes to this friendship, but also significantly to some of Blackman’s paintings created in the same year. Surrounded by flowers and accompanied by a white rabbit, the portrait of Blackman is ‘a parody of the imagery in some of the Alice paintings’.8
In The Third Metropolis: Imagining Brisbane through Art and Literature 1940–1970, published in 2007, William Hatherell notes that:
. . . perhaps the most important cultural institutions to develop in Brisbane during the postwar period were concerned with cultural distribution rather than production, and were located (at least partly) in the commercial sphere rather than either the governmental or the volunteer cultural spheres. These were the publishing houses Jacaranda Press and the University of Queensland Press (UQP), and the commercial art galleries, particularly the Johnstone Gallery. These institutions were particularly important for progressive individual artists in the context of a Brisbane cultural life that was predominately conservative in governmental cultural institutions such as the Queensland Art Gallery and in its volunteer ‘cultural civil society’.9
The Johnstone Gallery had a national reputation and was also a significant force in promoting Blackman’s work. This shared support and appreciation is most clearly expressed in 1986 by poet Pamela Bell,10 who gifted to the Queensland Art Gallery Molvig’s portrait of 1957 and, the following year, Blackman’s charcoal drawing of Australian writer George Johnston (c.1964).11 She made these gifts in honour of Marjorie and Brian Johnstone in recognition of the huge contribution they made to the knowledge and awareness of contemporary Australian art in Brisbane in the 1950s and 60s and to Blackman’s career. Bell wrote of Blackman’s work:
I consider it to be a drawing of Charles at his best . . . It represents for me a time of mutual friendship between us all . . . and commemorates a memorable lunch, the Blackmans, Judith Wright, George and I, so again it is in the tradition of the works I am in the process of gifting to the Gallery, which in differing ways are about friendships and eras in the cultural life of Queensland.12
Blackman was also involved in a number of UQP collaborations, which sprang from his friendship with Frank Thompson, the energetic manager of the press. UQP produced a number of significant books in the 1960s, including Ian Fairweather’s translation and illustration of The DrunkenBuddha in 1965 and the artists in the ‘Queensland’ series (interview-based monographs on Blackman, Judith Wright, Milton Moon and Andrew Sibley) in 1967. Thompson first met Blackman after returning from his Helena Rubinstein Travelling Art Scholarship in 1966, and they would often meet at the Royal Exchange Hotel in Toowong. They became close friends, and when Blackman moved to Sydney, Thompson’s interstate travel for work meant that they frequently caught up. This enabled a number of book collaborations, which included the publication of Barbara Blackman’s Certain Chairs in 1968, to which Blackman contributed drawings, illustrating Barbara’s account of their lives in various homes, in which familiar pieces of furniture gave continuity. In 1971, UQP also published Apparition: Poems by A. Alvarez, Paintings byCharles Blackman. The English poet and critic Alvarez originally met Blackman in London ten years earlier, and the publication was the outcome of their close friendship. The seven vivid gouaches, which are reproduced at their original size in the publication, were painted in response to Alvarez’s poems. Queensland modernist architect James Birrell first met Blackman in Melbourne in the early 1950s through the Contemporary Arts Society. He tells stories of sketching classes and Sunday lunches at Blackman’s home in Chrystobel Cresent, Hawthorn. In Life inArchitecture: Beyond the Ugliness (2013), Birrell recalls walks with Blackman to designer and sculptor Clement (Clem) Meadmore’s place for a ‘drink and conversation’. Meadmore lived upstairs in a Victorian terrace house that overlooked industrial buildings and railway yards, where ‘schoolgirls walked past, sometimes skipped, in their hats and uniforms’, and ‘we studied art books with de Chirico prints in them’.13 (It was Birrell who introduced Blackman to Frank Thompson after his return from England.) They met up again by chance in 1979 on a street in Maroochydore, and Blackman wrote:
‘I loved the area and its climate and I loved meeting my friend James, who lived in an old wooden house right by the Maroochy River’.14 Birrell also introduced Blackman to the history and natural beauties of the region and encouraged him to explore the landscape, which would become a source of inspiration for Blackman’s art in the 1980s.
James Birrell’s enthusiasm for Charles Blackman as an artist was indicative of all of his Queensland contacts: regardless of vocation, they shared a deep appreciation and love of visual art and literature, and their mutual interests supported and fed Blackman’s creative process.
Endnotes 1 Barbara Blackman, Glass After Glass: Autobiographical Reflections, Viking, Penguin Books Australia, Victoria,1997, p.230. 2 Blackman, p.110. 3 Thomas Shapcott, Focus on Charles Blackman, University of Queensland Press, Brisbane, 1967, p.15. 4 Transcript of video interview with Meredith McKinney, National Portrait Gallery, Canberra, <http://www.portrait.gov.au/stories/the-family>, viewed on 25 May 2015. 5 Betty Churcher, Molvig: The Lost Antipodean, Penguin, Ringwood, Victoria, 1984, p.92. 6 Churcher, p.92. 7 Laurie Thomas, The Most Noble Art of Them All: The Writings of Laurie Thomas, University of QueenslandPress, Brisbane, 1976, p.171. 8 Churcher, p.69. 9 William Hatherell, The Third Metropolis: Imagining Brisbane through Art and Literature 1940–1970,University of Queensland Press, Brisbane, 2007, p.118. 10 Pamela Bell served on the first Council of the Australian National Gallery for seven years and on the Board of the Queensland Art Gallery for four years. She published articles in Hemisphere, Art in Australia, and was art critic for the Australian newspaper. 11 George Henry Johnston (1912–70), journalist and author, best known for his autobiographical novel My Brother Jack (London, 1964). Hailed as a landmark Australian novel, it has been a great favourite with generations of Australian readers. 12 Pamela Bell, letter to the Deputy Director, Queensland Art Gallery, date 28 January 1987, held in the QAGOMA Research Library. 13 James Birrell, A Life in Architecture: Beyond the Ugliness, University of Queensland Press, Brisbane,2013, p.30. 14 Charles Blackman and Al Alvarez, Rainforest, The Christensen Fund, MacMillan, Melbourne, 1988, p.4
‘The Photograph and Australia’, touring to QAGOMA from the Art Gallery of New South Wales, is a comprehensive exploration of how our understanding of Australia has been shaped by the medium of photography. Drawing on her extensive knowledge, exhibition curator Judy Annear tells a story of the social and political power of photography in an Australian context, with a particular focus on the representation of people and country.
The exhibition opens at the Queensland Art Gallery this weekend. Tickets are on sale now. Adults $12, Concession $10 and Members $9. Bookings fees apply to all tickets booked in advance. Across the opening weekend of the exhibition, the Gallery will host a rich program of events, including an exhibition introduction and tour with Judy Annear, Senior Curator, Photographs, AGNSW, and Michael Hawker, and talks with exhibiting artists Patrick Pound and Rowan McNaught. Sunday 5 July sees the first in a series of monthly ‘Beyond the Lens’ floor talks with Michael Aird, ‘The Photograph and Australia’ publication contributor and freelance curator, researcher and writer.
The development of photography in the 1840s parallels the growth of the colonies and settler relations with Indigenous Australians. In ‘The Photograph and Australia’, Judy Annear, Senior Curator, Photographs, at the Art Gallery of New South Wales, charts photography from its nineteenth-century wellspring through to the present day, depicting the radically diverse artistic and documentary approaches to photographic practice, what they say and what they help to define regarding Australia and its inhabitants. By doing so, Annear assembles a powerful amalgam of historical and contemporary photographic images prompting questions about how photography has fundamentally shaped our perceptions of national identity, of the world at large, and of each other.
What the exhibition so effectively captures is the phenomenal reach of photography: as historical and contemporary record; tool of mass communication; and esoteric, highly individualised art form. Annear has said that ‘there is nothing else quite like it, except perhaps the word, in terms of flexibility, visibility and ubiquity’.1 It is impressive that this encyclopaedic collection of images — potentially overwhelming in the context of a display — is so sympathetically presented to reveal photography’s aesthetic and technical evolutions.
‘The Photograph and Australia’ is assembled thematically rather than chronologically. Photographic groupings highlight different dynamics: the dialogue between photographer and subject; the construction of place; depictions of family and personal relationships; and the collection, classifying and distribution of images. We see also the dynamic between the amateur and the professional studio photographer. These juxtapositions ask us to reassess social and cultural constructs of people, place and identity.
Nineteenth-century photography was largely about recording what was encountered — the people and the landscape — as seen in the Queensland photographs of Richard Daintree. The early twentieth century witnessed greater artistic interpretation of the medium. Harold Cazneaux was one of the talented photographers who rose out of this movement, developing a unique style that foreshadowed the next wave of photographers, such as Max Dupain with his depiction of a rapidly changing Australia. This change was at its most confrontational point during the protest movements of the 1960s and 70s, with the emergence of the youth-orientated counterculture, the women’s movement and indigenous land rights. This period encouraged a new type of photographer, one who used the medium as a means of personal and artistic expression as well as a potent tool for recording relationships, and the concept of our time and place in the world. A powerful example of this is the diaristic and durational photography of Sue Ford. Photography as a practice underwent scholarly and curatorial re-evaluation in the 1970s and began to be collected seriously by public galleries. Through the 1980s and into the 1990s, dynamic photographic practices, often studio-based, emerged and were informed by the theoretical discourses of postmodernism and feminism, in particular, and related the history of visual art to the various traditions of photography. Diverse new works challenged the way we looked at subject and medium, and proposed new social and artistic contexts for visual expression that continue to the present day.
The Photograph and Australia’ is accompanied by an impressive publication, which acts as a comprehensive exploration of the subject. Nothing of this scope has been produced since Gael Newton’s Shades of Light (National Gallery of Australia, 1988). Essays by scholars of photography accompany this lavishly illustrated publication, cementing its importance not just for experts but for all lovers of photographic image.
Acquired with the generous assistance of Drs Philip and Lenna Smith, this rare figurative work by the much loved Australian artist Margaret Olley is an intriguing and valuable addition to our Collection.
Working in the second half of the twentieth century, Margaret Olley made traditional still life and interior subjects uniquely her own. It was in Brisbane in the 1960s that she first established what would become a national reputation. Arguably one of her most productive and creative periods, a number of works from the Brisbane period drew their inspiration from the human figure. However, as curator Barry Pearce has noted, Olley’s interest in the figure did not last:
. . .over time, figure painting began to recede from her repertoire, with the exception of her own image, a detached observer occasionally seen reflected from a mirror, or amongst objects of her domestic surroundings.1
Between 1960 and 1963, Olley painted several figurative works, including some that feature Aboriginal girls as subjects, several of which were awarded prizes and garnered her further critical acclaim. Olley’s 1962 exhibition at the Johnstone Gallery in Brisbane created nationwide publicity with the information that paintings to the value of L3000 were sold, doubling the previous record for a woman artist. Reviewing the 1962 exhibition for the Bulletin, Dr JV Duhig remarked ‘Margaret Olley has reached the flood tide of her art and has stepped up to the top ranks of our artists’.2
Painted in 1963, Olley’s The banana cutters is historically significant because of its combination of uniquely Queensland subject matter and exemplary figure painting. Pearce notes that ‘1959 marked a crucial turning point in her career when she gave up drinking and set herself towards becoming a better artist’.3 The early 1960s were tremendously successful for Olley: with a new found enthusiasm and energy she became more confident in her compositional design and use of colour. The banana cutters embodies these qualities, and was awarded first prize at Brisbane’s 1963 Royal National and Agricultural and Industrial Association of Queensland Exhibition of Art.
Three male workers appear on a banana plantation. The figures interact with each other through the labour at hand, one hoisting the bright green banana stem on his shoulder while the others cut and sort bananas into a box. The viewer’s eye is drawn from the shadowed interior of the shed to the bright light and vegetation outside, framed by the window and doorway. At the time of painting, three of Olley’s major prizes were for flower and figure studies. They included the 1963 Bendigo Prize for Girl with daturas, the 1963 Finney’s Centenary Art Prize for Susan with flowers (QAG Collection), and the 1965 Redcliffe Art Contest for Patricia with fruit and flowers. The banana cutters follows this figure-and-still-life format but with a uniquely masculine working subject. The male figures, like the Indigenous subject of Susan with flowers, are depicted with an innate, quiet dignity that is enhanced by Olley’s choice of harmonious colour relationships.
The workers may be of South Sea Islander descent, pointing to the history the South Sea Islanders recruited — or abducted — from across Melanesia between 1863 and 1904, and brought to work across Queensland and northern New South Wales. It is interesting to compare their depiction here with that of artist Donald Friend, who previously travelled with Olley to north Queensland to paint and who presented his Islander subjects in a more romanticised, idyllic style. Olley’s figures are represented by a straightforward realism, in the performance of their labour.
From a period in Margaret Olley’s career marked for its vitality and creative freedom, The banana cutters adds great depth to the Gallery’s holdings. Through its intriguing subject matter and masterly rendering of colour and light, the painting is an invaluable addition to the Collection by this much loved Australian artist.
1 Barry Pearce, Margaret Olley, Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney, 1996, p.19.
2 JV Duhig, ‘The flood tide’, Bulletin, Sydney, 3 November 1962.
3 Pearce, p.17.
To mark the centenary of the beginning of World War One, a work by George W Lambert, (War composition) c.1922, has been generously donated to the Gallery by Philip Bacon, AM.
Australian war artists have made a rich contribution to Australian art, while playing a significant role in Australia’s interpretation of its wartime history. One of Australia’s earliest and most respected was George W Lambert, who produced a number of notable war works, including the Gallery’s Walk (Anincident at Romani) 1919–22, which was commissioned and gifted to the Gallery by the 2nd Light Horse Ambulance in memory of comrades who did not return from the war.
(War composition) c.1922 was painted after Lambert had completed his appointment as a war artist and had returned to Australia in 1921. At the outbreak of war in 1914, Lambert, unable to enlist in the Australian Imperial Force in London, spent most of the war years in the Voluntary Training Corps, where he taught horse-riding, and later as a divisional works officer supervising timber-getting in Wales. It was not until December 1917 that he was appointed as an official war artist, AIF, with the honorary rank of lieutenant, and commissioned to execute 25 sketches and to paint TheCharge of the Light Horse at Beersheba on 31 October 1917. This was an intense period of artistic activity that involved travelling to Egypt, Gallipoli and Palestine.
Anne Gray, Head of Australian Art at the National Gallery of Australia, believes (War composition) may have been cut down from a larger, unresolved painting, which initially included a scene of figures in a similar landscape, with this painting occupying the top right-hand corner. The larger painting was possibly a preliminary concept for the War Memorial mural competition for the State Library of Victoria. There is other evidence of Lambert recycling works: the Collection painting Portrait of Thea Proctor 1905, which features the head of the sitter, is in actuality a small section cut from a much larger painting originally entitled Alethea (also 1905). Another painting by Lambert in the Collection that has been cropped from a larger original is The artist and his wife 1904. Evidence suggests that the work was in the artist’s studio at the time of his death and exhibited at Anthony Horderns Gallery, Sydney, in 1930.
We have no knowledge of Lambert travelling to the battlefields in France, so we can assume that (War composition) may have been inspired by a photograph or perhaps a press description. This tranquil rural scene of wheat sheaves and fields is marred by the blasted stump of a tree, broken fence palings and the carcass of a horse. In the background, the open fields appear to be marked by what could be trenches and bomb craters; the only sign of potential life is a group of buildings. The painting depicts a different theatre of war from Lambert’s Walk (An incidentat Romani), so usefully expands our holdings depicting World War One.
The recent purchase of Sidney Nolan’s Platypus Bay, Fraser Island 1947 adds an important work from this series to the Collection. One of the works from Nolan’s 1948 exhibition at Brisbane’s Moreton Galleries, it allows the Queensland Art Gallery to tell, in greater depth, the significant part that the state played in Nolan’s artistic development.
In July 1947, Sidney Nolan travelled to Brisbane, eager to escape his increasingly uncomfortable and tense relationship with John and Sunday Reed at Heide. His affair with Sunday Reed had soured, the bonds between them being completely severed when he married John Reed’s sister, Cynthia, in Sydney the following year. Interestingly, Nolan’s marriage certificate records Fraser Island as his place of residence, suggesting the island had worked its magic on his psyche. For Nolan, his time in Queensland was an opportunity to be energised by fresh, fertile landscapes, both physical and cultural.
The fascinating and compelling narrative and the Queensland settings of Nolan’s Eliza Fraser paintings have wide appeal and hold a particular interest for local audiences. Nolan’s own interest was originally sparked by two visitors to Heide: Tom Harrison, who had trained commandos there during World War Two, and Barrett Reid, a Brisbane poet. Between 1947 and 1948, Nolan stayed in Brisbane with Reid and visited the rainforests, swamps, and lagoons of Fraser Island. He was introduced to the historical figure of Eliza Fraser, a Scottish woman who was shipwrecked near the island in 1836, and after whom it was subsequently renamed. Nolan read an account of the incident in Robert Gibbings’s 1937 book John Graham,Convict, 1824: An Historical Narrative Written and Illustrated by RobertGibbings at the John Oxley Library in Brisbane. He was fascinated by the story of her survival, her time spent with the island’s Indigenous people (variously described as captivity or salvation) and her rescue by escaped convict John Graham. Nolan detailed the Fraser Island landscape — and Eliza Fraser and John Graham’s engagement with it — in obsessive detail. He captured various island scenes, of Platypus Bay, Lake Wabby and Indian Head, while other works incorporated a lone female or male figure in the landscape, as in the Gallery’s Mrs Fraser 1947, and these were displayed in his 1948 exhibition at Moreton Galleries, Brisbane.
Platypus Bay, Fraser Island presents a dreamlike landscape of lustrous blues and greens. Its subtle beauty, rendered mysterious and otherworldly with a foggy dissipated central band (possibly morning mist, or cloud), disrupts the visual progression between land, bay and sky, partially obscuring what appear to be trees. Perhaps this ‘impediment’ finds its best explanation in an address that artist Judith Wright gave to the 1975 Fraser Island Environmental Inquiry, during which she stated:
So many of us have as it were an inward expectation of a European landscape and therefore I think, it has been difficult for us to appreciate the subtle beauty of Australia . . . Painters have trained our eye much more to appreciate this beauty.1
Between 1947 and 1948, Sidney Nolan painted at least 15 images of Fraser Island and Eliza Fraser. He then returned to the same theme briefly in 1952, and again during the late 1950s and early 1960s, when he produced numerous works referring, either obliquely or directly, to the Eliza Fraser story and the landscapes he had encountered on the island. Their continuing presence in his paintings, almost 20 years after his initial curiosity, suggests that the episode affected his work greatly, making Queensland instrumental in his development as an artist.
1 ‘Fraser Island in history and art’, <http://www.fido.org.au/moonbi/backgrounders/35%20FI%20a%20cultural%20monument.pdf>, viewed 11 September 2013.