I was inspired to paint at a young age as I am one of 10 children, I probably painted so that I could get a word in. My mother tells the story of me solving one of the farms problems at the age of 3. Apparently, the sows were having too many piglets so I drew the solution on butcher’s paper - stretched sows with an increased number of teats which accommodate the extra piglets!
As to my influences, at school in Ballarat, probably grade 1, the classroom was adorned with three types of artwork. For those of you who know Ballarat, you know that it is cold and it rains a lot. So here I was in a classroom with a picture of Queen Elizabeth who we sang was going to ‘rain’ over us – so her 'rain' was not very attractive to me. Then there was the dead fellow: Jesus, with his arms outstretched on the cross - his prospects didn’t look very good either. Then there were pictures by an artist called Albert Namatjira whose works celebrated sunshine and gum trees and distant views - his work was much more appealing and looked a lot like our farm in summer. What I didn’t know was Albert’s work celebrated spirit places and on some level beyond my understanding he spoke to me through his work. To this day I seek to emulate the level of emotion that Albert was able to achieve in his paintings.
We had a small farm which allowed us to explore the scrubby bush of country Victoria, the same bush was full of stories for us and set our imaginations alight. With so many siblings, many adventures and shenanigans took place around the old gold mines. Both my brother Mick Martin (the poet) and I draw on those times as inspiration for our works.
Growing up on cleared lands with views of the Great Dividing Range and its long extinct volcanoes, peppered with majestic gums, still echoing with the stories of bushrangers and the gold rush was great inspiration for any child with half an imagination. Living in that country taught me to look far at the same time as having an appreciation for what is near. I learned to appreciate the connection between colour and season for its beauty and its effects. To walk as a country kid is to see the subtle changes in the colour of a shadow and the way the humidity changes the sound of your footfall on the earth, it is to smell the wind at the change of the weather. The Australian landscape does not have a time card, it doesn’t check in and out at the same time every day, it offers a new story every day and I am driven to tell it as I see it.
As to my influences, at school in Ballarat, probably grade 1, the classroom was adorned with three types of artwork. For those of you who know Ballarat, you know that it is cold and it rains a lot. So here I was in a classroom with a picture of Queen Elizabeth who we sang was going to ‘rain’ over us – so her 'rain' was not very attractive to me. Then there was the dead fellow: Jesus, with his arms outstretched on the cross - his prospects didn’t look very good either. Then there were pictures by an artist called Albert Namatjira whose works celebrated sunshine and gum trees and distant views - his work was much more appealing and looked a lot like our farm in summer. What I didn’t know was Albert’s work celebrated spirit places and on some level beyond my understanding he spoke to me through his work. To this day I seek to emulate the level of emotion that Albert was able to achieve in his paintings.
We had a small farm which allowed us to explore the scrubby bush of country Victoria, the same bush was full of stories for us and set our imaginations alight. With so many siblings, many adventures and shenanigans took place around the old gold mines. Both my brother Mick Martin (the poet) and I draw on those times as inspiration for our works.
Growing up on cleared lands with views of the Great Dividing Range and its long extinct volcanoes, peppered with majestic gums, still echoing with the stories of bushrangers and the gold rush was great inspiration for any child with half an imagination. Living in that country taught me to look far at the same time as having an appreciation for what is near. I learned to appreciate the connection between colour and season for its beauty and its effects. To walk as a country kid is to see the subtle changes in the colour of a shadow and the way the humidity changes the sound of your footfall on the earth, it is to smell the wind at the change of the weather. The Australian landscape does not have a time card, it doesn’t check in and out at the same time every day, it offers a new story every day and I am driven to tell it as I see it.