A tale of two exhibitions
On Saturday, I made my annual pilgrimage to the Art Gallery of New South Wales for the Archibald Prize. While I’ve attended the glitzy opening nights in the past, I now prefer a quieter, more personal visit.
The Archibald is Australia’s most prestigious portrait prize. Judged by the trustees of the gallery, it’s a ‘who’s who’ of Australian culture, featuring portraits of politicians, celebrities, athletes, and artists.
When a friend asked for my verdict on this year’s winning portrait, I had to be honest: it was fine, but it didn’t stir any real emotion in me. In fact, for the first time in a while, it was the main exhibition, not the companion Wynne or Sulman Prizes, that captured my interest. Two paintings in particular stood out (see below), but the celebrated winner left me feeling surprisingly indifferent.


My Sunday morning was spent at Qtopia, Sydney’s vibrant LGBTQIA+ museum, in honour of Pride Month. Housed in the former Darlinghurst Police Station—a site of great historical significance to the queer community—Qtopia opened in 2024 as the largest centre for queer history and culture in the world. Its exhibitions are a powerful journey through more than fifty years of history, charting everything from the fight for homosexual decriminalisation to the devastating impact of the AIDS crisis.


One exhibit resonated with me on a deeply personal level: a feature on Ward 17 at St. Vincent’s Hospital. This was the city’s first dedicated AIDS ward. The personal significance comes from the fact that, long after it had become the Sacred Heart facility, this exact same ward was where I spent several months in rehabilitation following my amputation a few years ago. I remember friends visiting me at the time and remarking on how long it had been since they were last there, a poignant reminder of a time when they knew so many people within those same walls.
The weekend concluded with a cherished tradition: our monthly “First Sunday Roast Club” (held, this time, on the third Sunday). We gathered at The Village Inn in Paddington, which was buzzing with people making the most of a stunningly beautiful day. Over a glass of wine and an excellent roast lunch, we enjoyed great food and even better conversation—a perfect end to the weekend.


Can you remember if McCormack was ever questioned about his anti gay writing later when he became an important figure?
Yes he was. In fact, I approached him for a comment a couple of years ago, and his Press Secretary told me he preferred not to comment, as he “no longer held those views”.