Archibald Prize

+ Cardinal George Pell, Archbishop of Sydney
3 May 2009

The Archibald Prize for portrait painting is the most famous Australian art award although not the richest.  Each year it gives us some insight into what Australians are thinking and doing today.

Foreign visitors to the Archibald this year would conclude that Australians are a decent lot, respectful of the indigenous and the aged, with a number of individuals who aspire to eccentricity.

Nothing was confronting or offensive, much less ugly, but I came away uneasy that the exhibition was pleasant, and a bit ordinary.  If anything, the works were too serious, but many of the painters are accomplished artists, reasons for justified national pride.

Guy Maestri's portrait of Geoffrey Gurumul Yunupingu, the blind aboriginal singer from Arnhem Land was chosen as the winner.  The painting is not pretty and I didn't particularly like it, entirely a study in black, and white and grey.  But you had to concede its quality.  It is a worthy winner.

Fu Hong's portrait of the 100 year old Dame Elisabeth Murdoch sympathetically catches her kindness and generosity and hints at her strength.  Margaret Whitlam is treated less conventionally but emerges well if you like that sort of art.

The well known Sydney writer Tom Keneally gets what he deserves as he has a very interesting head and Neil Mitchell looked unusually benign and reasonable.  Jimmy Barnes' portrait was more from his bad old days than his present reformed state, but it made you stop and look before hurrying on.

Environmentalists were represented of course, this year by Bob Brown in quietly heroic defensive mode.  A beautiful if sentimental portrait by Vincent Fantauzzo of Brandon Walters, the young star of the film "Australia" should be a strong contender for the popular choice award.

However the most interesting foray into the national psyche was not Anthony Bennett's "Self-portrait in the bathroom", but David Grigg's self-portrait entitled "Zoloft Nation".

One of the most fiercely guarded secrets in Australian and indeed Western life is the damage being done to young people by drugs, alcohol, pornography and the sexual revolution.

Grigg gives us a glimpse and indeed more than a glimpse, although his painting is not entirely without hope, unlike Munch's painting "The Scream" to which he appeals as a prototype.

This is not to suggest that the cluttered scene is cheerful or peaceful, with its centerpiece of a young innocent face streaming blood from the mouth.

The tombstone proclaims "Earth to earth/Dust to dust/Now you're dead/Don't make a fuss" and there are black eyes, ghouls and bloody skeletons.  But all is not lost as "life is sacred" also appears and the name of his baby son "Atticus" is tattooed on his forearm. 

Goodness and love have not triumphed, but they seem to be valued and are still in the game, although weak and outnumbered.

As always the exhibition was worth the visit.