It’s one of those beautiful late summer/early autumn days in Sydney. It’s the kind of day you know you just can’t waste. And I do have a bit planned for the afternoon. But what have I done so far? Well not a lot really. There was a phone call from work. I’ve chatted with someone on the internet. I’m working on this blog post. And I’ve gone through the photographs from last night. It’s remarkable, isn’t it, how many photographs you can take when you’ve had a beer or twelve.
The night started off at the Art Gallery of NSW with the official launch of the Archibald Prize. Champagne and canapes, 1000 people (I’d estimate), and some great art. How could you go wrong? I’m not a great fan of this year’s winning portrait, although I understand why it won. The “highly commended” portrait of Heath Ledger probably should have won, though I understand why it didn’t. For me, the portrait of Heath provokes a genuine emotive response, whereas the winning portrait doesn’t. People just seemed to walk past the winning portrait, hardly noticing it was there, whereas the portrait of Heath was viewed and enjoyed by many. The packer’s prize, which was the portrait of Neil Finn was okay, though not spectacular. And that’s probably how I would sum up most of this year’s work – okay, but not spectacular, in stark contrast to last year’s exhibition which I thought was excellent. I’m heading off to Salon des Refuses at S.H. Ervin later this afternoon, by the way, to see those works which didn’t quite make it.
Aside from an Australian Of The Year function on Thursday night at Boy Charlton Pool (now that’s a great location for a late afternoon cocktail party), catching up with mates on Wednesday night, and Swedish class on Tuesday night, it’s just been work, work, work.