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Don Peebles, ONZM (1922-2010)

Don Peebles, one of the pioneers of modern painting in New Zealand died on Saturday 27 March at his home in Christchurch. He was 88. On behalf of Te Papa, I’d like to our offer sympathies to Prue, Don’s wife of fifty years, their children and grandchildren. He will be missed.

Peebles’ long career as an artist and as a teacher at the University of Canterbury School of Fine Arts will be recounted in many places over the coming days and weeks.

His first art lessons were in Florence at the end of the World War II, following service in the Pacific, Middle East and Europe. He learned about Cézanne with John Passmore in Sydney in the 1950s, where and began his journey towards abstraction. It was tough going: reviewing Peebles’ first solo exhibition at Wellington’s Architectural Centre in 1954, the Evening Post’s critic dismissed abstract art as ‘an obscure cult’.

In 1960 Peebles went to London on an Association of New Zealand Art Societies Scholarship. There he encountered the work of the British constructionist painter Victor Pasmore, later describing it as ‘like a kick in the guts.’

His own constructionist works – poised between two and three dimensions, between painting and sculpture – followed Pasmore’s logic but had a lyrical quality to them. Relief construction, 1966, which Peebles generously donated to the collection in 1991, was a particular favourite.

Don Peebles, Untitled, 1978

Don Peebles, Untitled, 1978

His work didn’t stand still for long. By the end of the 1970s, he was making expansive works like Untitled, 1978, a dazzling grid that unfolds over nearly eight metres of canvas. Fellow painter Toss Woollaston described the work well: ‘There is nothing mysterious here, nothing hard to understand. It is open handed painting, painted (as Cézanne said a painter should) ‘‘as a bird sings’’.’ This was followed by Peebles’ relief canvases, with their mysterious flaps and folds, and these grew and mutated into other forms. The last two decades saw no let up for Peebles’ tennis game or his painting.

He was afforded various honours. In 1999 Peebles was appointed an Officer of the New Zealand Order of Merit for services to the visual arts, and in 2003 he was awarded an honorary doctorate by the University of Canterbury. The Arts Foundation of New Zealand made him made him an Icon in 2007, one of twenty individuals recognised for their life-long achievement.

I can’t recall when I first met Don Peebles – I come from Christchurch and he was always a strong presence there, as of course were his paintings. I do remember with great fondness working on his survey exhibition The harmony of opposites when it was shown at Auckland Art Gallery.

The show was toured by the Robert McDougall Art Gallery and I oversaw the exhibition’s layout and installation in Auckland. When Don arrived we went round the show together, and while I think he liked the hang well enough, he couldn’t resist giving one of his canvas reliefs a good shake because it was looking a bit flat. That would do, he said, but really, the best thing to do was to take them outside and turn the hose on them. He wasn’t kidding, either. 

He was delightful company and a mine of interesting stories. At lunch a few days after the exhibition opened he was doing impressions of Clement Greenberg, who he’d kept in touch with since the American critic’s visit to New Zealand in 1968. ‘Ya know Don, I think ya might be on to something there…’ Clem was right about that.

Julian Dashper

Many people at Te Papa were saddened to learn of the death this morning of Julian Dashper. Julian had suffered serious illness over the past few years. He fought cheerfully and bravely, all the while continuing to make and exhibit new work. Our deepest sympathies go out to Julian’s family.

Julian Dashper, Purple Rain at Glorit, 1986

Julian Dashper, Purple Rain at Glorit, 1986

Julian’s wonderful painting Purple Rain at Glorit is currently on show in Toi Te Papa. It has to be one of the most popular works in the contemporary part of the exhibition.

Describing those rich painterly abstracts, Julian later remarked that ‘they were all made by holding the tube and squeezing it. So I never touched or embraced the painting. I could have made them wearing three piece suits. They were like lies in terms of artistic expression or angst.’

Julian always had great lines. Another of my favourite quotes related to this work, Mural for a Contemporary House: ‘People say my paintings are deep in the way they say that fat people are heavy.’ I was never sure exactly what he meant, but always thought it was hilarious.

Julian Dashper, Untitled (1996), 1996

Julian Dashper, Untitled (1996), 1996

A selection of Julian’s works were recently shown in the contemporary focus section of Toi Te Papa. His drumskins, striped canvases and stretchers looked fantastic next to works by Milan Mrkusich and Don Driver. Julian’s work loved company.

In September last year, Julian spoke at a symposium we had in conjunction with the Rita Angus exhibition, joining a panel discussion with Seraphine Pick and Robin White. As an artist, Julian had carried on a conversation with Angus’s Cass for twenty years.

Julian was his usual delightful self that day, pointing out all the love in the room for Angus’s work and suggesting that the exhibition was like our Woodstock.

Rita Angus: Life & Vision opens tomorrow night at Auckland Art Gallery. Like many people, Julian, I’ll look at works like Cass, AD 1968, and this strange little abstract, and be thinking of you. There’ll be a lot of love in the room.

And the winner is…

Angus BioJill Trevelyan’s biography, Rita Angus: An Artist’s Life was proclaimed winner of the Montana Medal for Non-Fiction last night, as well as category winner for the Biography section of the 2009 Montana New Zealand Book Awards. Congratulations Jill!

Everyone here at Te Papa who worked with Jill on the exhibition Rita Angus: Life  & Vision is thrilled for her and for Te Papa Press. The exhibition opens at Auckland Art Gallery this Saturday, 1 August.

Freedom to act

Scared and Mondrian's last chrysanthemum, on show in Toi Te Papa.

New acquisitions by Colin McCahon, on show in Toi Te Papa.
© courtesy of the Colin McCahon Research and Publication Trust

 

The other night we hung the two McCahons we bought last year – Scared and Mondrian’s last chrysanthemum. They’ve gone up in Toi Te Papa.

In the mid-1970s Colin McCahon did a lot of paintings on a thick high quality paper called Steinbach. Legend has it that McCahon’s dealer Peter McLeavey bought 100 expensive sheets of Steinbach paper from Webster’s Art Supplies in Wellington, of which McCahon received the bulk (Allen Maddox got a smaller share).

McCahon couldn’t get enough of the stuff, and series followed upon amazing series. He painted three sets of Teaching aids, two each of Noughts and crosses and Rocks in the sky, a set of Clouds, and many others besides. This was an artist working at the height of his powers, producing works that were urgent and direct, but also subtle and supremely elegant.

A few years earlier, McCahon had written, ‘I’m finished with frames and all that they imply. I want paintings to pin up or nail up or tie up with string. I think it gives them more freedom to act.’ That was precisely what he did with these works when they were first exhibited. Indeed, you can still see the pin holes in the corners.

Showing the paintings safely and ensuring their longevity makes it difficult to honour those intentions. Frames are always a kind of imposition on these works, but a necessary one. Added to this is the issue that a previous owner of Mondrian’s last chrysanthemum stuck it down on hardboard (a common fate for many such works).

I really like the solution our framer came up with for Scared and Mondrian’s last chrysanthemum. No stranger to McCahon’s works and the issues of their display, he made frames that were as simple and as neutral as possible. The frames sigh quietly back into the wall, leaving the paintings free to act. The performance is stunning.

Man of sorrows

Colin McCahon, <em>King of the Jews</em>, 1947<br />© courtesy of the Colin McCahon Research and Publication Trust

Colin McCahon, King of the Jews, 1947
© courtesy of the Colin McCahon Research and Publication Trust

Te Papa has a strong collection of Colin McCahon’s early religious works, including three paintings from 1947 that depict events from story of the Passion: Christ taken from the cross, Entombment (after Titian), and King of the Jews.

One of the enduring myths surrounding McCahon’s early paintings is that were rejected by critics. This is summed up in ARD Fairburn’s memorably dismissive line ‘They might pass as graffiti on the walls of some celestial lavatory’, which appeared in a review in Landfall in 1948. In fact Fairburn’s was something of an exception to the critical response that initially greeted these works.

Another poet, James K Baxter told readers of Canta, Canterbury University College’s student newspaper that ‘The art of Colin McCahon has a fire and originality which sets it apart from that of most New Zealand painters.’ Historian JC Beaglehole was similarly well disposed towards McCahon’s pictures. Writing in the New Zealand Listener in March 1948 he acknowledged that ‘McCahon is not a brilliant technician in the academic sense… Yet for us he is one of the important people. He is a serious artist.’

Like other reviews, Beaglehole’s sparked a flurry of letters to the editor, but for every writer attacking McCahon there seemed to be another willing to stand up in his defence. One such defender was Rita Angus, who described McCahon as ‘a courageous painter who renounces honestly what is not essential to him … a traditional painter in his way ’.

My favourite remains EC Simpson’s review of McCahon’s 1948 exhibition at the Wellington Public Library. McCahon’s paintings, he told readers of the Southern Cross, showed ‘an audacious and original vision in a tradition as old as religion itself.’

‘His raw crudity gives the same sledge-hammer force as the direct simplicity of the Biblical text,’ continued Simpson, adding that ‘McCahon is like a saltwater douche, disagreeable but good for health. His pictures in a living-room would be about as comfortable as a Bible class tea in the presence of the prophet Ezekiel.’ That was actually meant as a compliment.

New arrival

te-papa-store-2

Art at Te Papa in stock at Te Papa Store

Last week we took delivery of Art at Te Papa, the big book on the art collection. We are absolutely thrilled with it.

The book’s official launch isn’t until next week, but Te Papa store already has an impressive display in its window.

Some numbers: The book features 419 works in the collection by 300 artists. There are 343 individual essays by 38 writers. About half the essays were written by Te Papa curators and staff, while the rest were commissioned from colleagues outside the museum. It’s been the result of about three year’s work. The flexi-bind edition weighs in at a hefty 2.6 kilos (5lbs, 11 oz).

To celebrate the launch, on Thursday next week we’ll be having a special tour of Toi Te Papa with some of the contributors to the book, starting at 6pm. It’ll be a bit like a speed dating version of meet the author, as everyone will have about five minutes to talk about a work in the exhibition that they wrote about. It should be fun.

Art and architecture

My trip to Christchurch for the opening of Rita Angus: Life & Vision went well. I’m pleased with the way the exhibition looks at Christchurch Art Gallery, especially as the exhibition designer and I worked the whole thing out on the phone and via email. By the time I got there the show was hung, and while there was one last minute change to be made, it all went very smoothly. Naturally Cass takes pride of place as the first work you see as you enter the exhibition.

Rita Angus: Life & Vision at Christchurch Art Gallery. Front left: Cass.

Rita Angus: Life & Vision at Christchurch Art Gallery. Front left, the gallery’s painting Cass.

What’s interesting about putting a show like this on the road is that different venues produce a different experience of the works. A Goddess of Mercy, for instance, looked across a gallery to the final self-portrait in a way that drew interesting connections between the two paintings and was quite different from how they were hung at Te Papa.

As well as those new sightlines and juxtapositions, it’s also interesting to hear the responses of a new audience. On the basis of comments heard and overheard at the opening and the following day, I think the show’s going to be a hit in Christchurch.

Warren & Mahoney's Dorset Street flats. Image from Christchurch Modern

Warren & Mahoney’s Dorset Street flats, 1956. Image from the Christchurch Modern website

This will be in no small part due to its conjunction with Miles: A life in architecture, a look at half-a-century’s work by Sir Miles Warren. While there was too much to see and read during my brief visit to the exhibition, it was good to be reminded of some of my favourite buildings.

You can see many of these in the ‘chronology’ section of the Warren & Mahoney website. The folks at Christchurch Modern have also done a nice job of documenting some of the firm’s early domestic buildings, as well as other bits of my home town (for instance, I’d often wondered what this was). There’s also a cool self-guided tour of Warren & Mahoney’s Christchurch that’s available as a pdf from Auckland University’s Architecture Archive – an ideal companion the next time you’re pounding the pavements of the garden city.

Next stop, Christchurch

Rita Angus, Cass, 1936 Christchurch Art Gallery Te Puna o Waiwhetu

Rita Angus, Cass, 1936
Christchurch Art Gallery Te Puna o Waiwhetu

Rita Angus: Life & Vision opens at Christchurch Art Gallery this weekend. I’ll be heading down for the official opening tomorrow evening. On Saturday I’m doing a floortalk in the exhibition at noon, the first in what looks like a great line-up of events alongside the show.

It’ll be nice to see the works again and also to see how they look in a different context. For the gallery I’m sure it’ll be good to have paintings like Cass and A Goddess of Mercy back home, if only for a while – the exhibition heads to Auckland Art Gallery later in the year.

Many of the paintings are returning home in another sense, as Angus lived in Christchurch on and off between 1927 and 1953. Some works, including the most well-known of all her self-portraits, were painted in Angus’s studio at Cambridge Terrace. Others, such as Rutu and the enigmatic Landscape with sea had their genesis when Angus was living at Clifton, looking out over the estuary and beyond to the Pacific.

And what is faith?

Ian Prior, noted epidemiologist and arts patron, died earlier this week. Luncheon under the ash tree, an exhibition organised by Aratoi which celebrated Ian and Elespie Prior’s art collection, toured galleries around New Zealand a few years ago.

Regan Gentry, Green Islands

Regan Gentry, Green Islands, 2007Wellington Sculpture Trust’s Four Plinths Temporary Sculpture Project

A couple of works on show in and near Te Papa stand in tribute to Ian. The first is Regan Gentry’s Green Islands, the inaugural Four Plinths Temporary Sculpture Project which has been on show in the plaza outside the museum since December 2007. It was commissioned by the Wellington Sculpture Trust, which Ian helped found back in 1982.

Colin McCahon, A Letter to Hebrews, 1979

Colin McCahon, A Letter to Hebrews, 1979© Courtesy of the Colin McCahon Research and Publication Trust

The second is Colin McCahon’s painting A Letter to Hebrews, on show in Toi Te Papa. In his memoir, Ian recalled writing to McCahon and suggesting a painting based on the New Testament letter.

Ian decided that the resulting work, which quotes from Chapter 11 of Hebrews — ‘And what is faith?’,  really belonged in a museum. It was acquired by the then National Art Gallery with the assistance of the Willi Fels Memorial Trust. The Trust was named in honour of Elespie’s grandfather and has been a benefactor to a number of New Zealand artists, writers and musicians.

Oh yes it can be dark here

Colin McCahon, Northland panels, 1958

Colin McCahon, Northland panels, 1958

© Courtesy of the Colin McCahon Research and Publication Trust

In 1958 Colin McCahon spent four months on a study tour of the United States. Although the main point of the trip was to look at how museums were run — McCahon was then working as a curator at Auckland Art Gallery — he saw an awful lot of art: everything from Old Masters to recent American painting and installation, with modern European painting and classical Asian art in between.

Coming home to New Zealand was difficult. ‘I had seen deserts and tumbleweed in fences and the Salt Lake Flats, and the Faulkner country with magnolias in bloom, cities — taller by far than kauri trees,’ McCahon later wrote. ‘I fled north in memory and painted the Northland panels.’ They were painted, he wrote, ‘on the sun deck at Titirangi all on one Sunday afternoon and corrected for weeks afterwards’.

The Northland panels are one of the stars of Toi Te Papa. Later this year they will come off display so that our conservators can work on them. The treatment will include stabilising areas of the paint and upgrading how the panels are stored. Painted on loose, unprimed canvas with typically experimental materials, the Northland panels have always presented certain challenges.  Not that they’re falling to bits — far from it. It’s just that at half a century old, the Northland panels need a little bit of extra care and attention.

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