"George"

 

"George"

Kerry Wright - 2013

Oils on Canvas

25cm x 20cm

A constant throughout my life has been my cherished, beloved friend, George. He was born in 1950 at Geita, Tanzania, of Dutch Boer heritage, and attended the Hill School at Eldoret in Kenya, before migrating to Australia with his family in 1963 aboard the S S Galileo Galilei from Aden. After serving in the Royal Australian Navy, George settled in Sydney, where he and I met one bright, sunny, Saturday afternoon in February 1973, in the home of mutual friends at Long Reef on Sydney's Northern Beaches.

"The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa of Avila"

 

"The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa of Avila"

Kerry Wright, 1998

Oils on Canvas

25cm x 20cm

"Study for Portrait of Kevin"

 

"Study for Portrait of Kevin"

Kerry Wright, 2023

Graphite on Cartridge Paper

64cm x 45cm

"Ave Antinoe"

 

"Ave Antinoe"

Kerry Wright, 1984

Oils on Canvas

90cm x 60cm

Dedicated to the Emperor Hadrian and his beloved Antinous.

"A la recherche du temps perdu"

 

"A la recherche du temps perdu"

Kerry Wright, 2000

Oils on Canvas

25cm x 20cm

"In the Midnight Brightly"

 

"In the Midnight Brightly"

Kerry Wright, 2001

Oils on Canvas

25cm x 20cm

"Daniel in a Landscape"

 

"Daniel in a Landscape"

Kerry Wright, 1987

Conte Pastel and Ink on Paper

18cm x 13cm

"Fabian LoSchiavo"

 

"Fabian LoSchiavo"

[Double Portrait]

Kerry Wright, 1993

Oils on Canvas

182cm x 121cm (6ft x 4ft)

Fabian LoSchiavo (1949-2023) was a culturally significant, legendary, iconic gay Australian, at the height of his fame when he agreed to sit for me, to paint his portrait, in 1993. He precisely complied with the provisions for entry into the Archibald Prize competition, in his capacity as Mother Inferior of the Sydney Chapter of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. I had planned on entering the portrait into the 1994 Archibald. Alas, when I did so, the Trustees of the Art Gallery of New South Wales chose not to shortlist it. Instead, it was entered into the 1994 OutArt Exhibition as part of the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras festivities that year. The opening night was a glittering occasion with Fabian in attendance in full habit, where he and his portrait were received with warm approval and applause. 

"Vale Diana"

“Vale Diana”

Kerry Wright, 1997

Oils on Canvas

120cm x 90cm (4ft x 3ft)

My tribute to Diana, Princess of Wales, painted shortly after her death.

"Tehuti Transcendent"

“Tehuti Transcendent”

Kerry Wright, 1997

Oils on Canvas

210cm x 120cm (7ft x 4ft)

To be gay back in the 1980s and 1990s was to live in constant terror of falling victim to a disease that would lead to an agonizing, disfiguring and premature death. We all became familiar with such exotic and bizarre expressions as “seroconvert”, a euphemism for “your death warrant has been signed and your execution imminent”. And we came to know all about “T-cells” and how many one should possess in order to survive. It was a time of considerable anxiety and of great sorrow. Many bright and beautiful young lives, filled to overflowing with exuberance and hope and promise and love, were snuffed out prematurely throughout that sad time.

In 1994 an excellent, albeit distressing and tragically poignant exhibition was held at the National Gallery of Australia. It was titled “Don’t Leave Me This Way – Art in the Age of AIDS”. After visiting the exhibition, I was inspired to create artwork of my own featuring the issue of living in a time when plague had descended upon the land.

In this large work, “Tehuti Transcendent”,  I have drawn upon my background in calligraphy to create a swirling vortex of gyrating calligraphic lines surrounding a central crucible within the painting’s composition, in which a portal has opened. From within that portal, a feather has emerged. Attached to the feather is a standard parcel label onto which is inscribed the letter “T” in calligraphic script. The “T” stands for “T-cells”. The more T-cells you have, the more likely it is that you will survive. The tag is tied to the feather with a red AIDS ribbon. The feather floats arbitrarily upon the thermals within the vortex, signifying randomly whether its victims will live when it rises or perish when it descends.

The title of the painting, “Tehuti Transcendent”, relates to the ibis-headed, ancient Egyptian god, Tehuti (aka Thoth). Tehuti is significantly a lunar deity with a highly complex cult. He has many titles, attributes and functions. For the purpose of this painting, however, he is specifically referred to as the god who gave the gift of hieroglyphs (calligraphy) to the ancient Egyptians. It also relates to his capacity to act as intermediary between life and death, good and evil, this world and the next, and thus transcending each.

“Tehuti Transcendent” was entered in the Sulman Prize in 1998, but not chosen for hanging.

"Gloria in excelsis David"

"Gloria in excelsis David"

Kerry Wright, 1996

Oils on Canvas

120cm x 90cm (4ft x 3ft)

This large abstract was commissioned by friends, David and Craig. They had moved to a smart city apartment here in Sydney and were keen to establish their own contemporary art collection. I had previously painted David’s portrait and they were looking to acquire a bright, exuberant abstract, which portrayed aspects of their individual personalities and also their life together as a couple. That was my brief. I have been interested in calligraphy from an early age. During the 1980s-1990s, I ran my own calligraphy business as a sideline. I counted several academic institutions and hospitals amongst my clientele, primarily engraving graduands'  names onto academic certificates and diplomas. The advent of the computer with its many and varied font types put an end to that. I approached David and Craig’s commission by way of my background in calligraphy. The bold, swirling black lines, which dominate the composition, spell out their intertwined names, albeit cryptically. As for the title, “Gloria in excelsis David”, it is a play on the words of the Gloria, from the Tridentine Mass of the Roman Catholic Church. A tribute to David’s Irish ancestry, as well as to his cheeky, impious sense of humour.

 

"Jim in a Landscape at Dusk"

"Jim in a Landscape at Dusk"

Kerry Wright, 1995

Oils on Canvas

61cm x 46cm (24in x 18in)

"Ave Atque Vale"

“Ave Atque Vale” 

(Hail & Farewell)

Kerry Wright, 1995

Oils on Canvas

120cm x 90cm (4ft x 3ft)

I painted “Ave Atque Vale” (Hail and Farewell) shortly after the death of my dear friend, Andy. Andy was a fun-loving, active, out-there kinda guy, with a stereotypically Italian exuberance and love of life. We met not long after he relocated to Australia from his home town of Vicenza in Italy’s Veneto region, not far from Venice. We soon became firm friends. It was the 1970s and we were both in our 20s. In a gay scene not then known for its macho role models, Andy really did stand out from the crowd with his handsome, smouldering Italian good looks and genuinely unaffected masculine demeanour. Heads would literally turn when he entered a room and he had no trouble in winning hearts all over town. Whilst studying to become a registered nurse at Sydney’s Mater Misericordiae Hospital, he took on part-time work at the Midnight Shift bar located within Sydney’s gay ghetto. I can still so vividly picture him behind the bar, surrounded by a clutch of effete, giggling admirers, all fluttering their eyelashes in his direction, in an endeavour to capture his attention. It was probably during this period of Andy’s life, in the early 1980s, that he seroconverted. Following graduation, he worked as a registered nurse at various health facilities throughout Australia, before ultimately succumbing to the virus in November 1993. His ashes were subsequently returned to his family in Italy.  I wanted to paint a picture dedicated to Andy and this image emerged as I set about that task. The figure depicted is intended to represent Andy’s spiritual essence at the time of his death and does not bear any physical resemblance to him as he appeared in life. In the execution of this work, I was inspired significantly by Kahlil Gibran’s beautiful words:

“For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?” 

"Ave Atque Vale" (Detail)

“Ave Atque Vale” (Detail)

Kerry Wright, 1995

Oils on Canvas

Original 120cm x 90cm (4ft x 3ft)

See original above.

"Mother M. Fabian LoSchiavo, OPI"

"Mother M. Fabian LoSchiavo, OPI"

Preliminary Study

Full Face

by Kerry Wright, 1994

Indian ink and charcoal on cartridge paper

Preliminary drawing executed prior to completion of the final work in oils on canvas.

"Mother M. Fabian LoSchiavo, OPI"

"Mother M. Fabian LoSchiavo, OPI"

Preliminary Study

Three-quarter Face

by Kerry Wright, 1994

Indian ink and charcoal on cartridge paper

Preliminary drawing executed prior to completion of the final work in oils on canvas.

"Mother M. Fabian LoSchiavo, OPI"

"Mother M. Fabian LoSchiavo, OPI"

Preliminary Study

Left Profile

by Kerry Wright, 1994

Indian ink and charcoal on cartridge paper

Preliminary drawing executed prior to completion of the final work in oils on canvas.

"The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa"

"The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa"

Kerry Wright, 1992

Oils on Canvas

120cm x 90cm (4ft x 3ft)

It was in 1992 that I painted this image of Saint Teresa in ecstasy, the year following my mother's death. The subject matter of the painting continues my obsession with Saint Teresa and her mystical tryst with the amorous, arrow-wielding angel. The heavily layered impasto paint is applied within a strict structure, reminiscent of ecclesiastical stained glass. Saint Teresa was a cloistered Carmelite nun of the Spanish Middle Ages. The Carmelites are a contemplative Marian order of the Catholic Church, their primary object of devotion being the Blessed Virgin Mary. For this reason, I incorporated two mother and child images within the composition of the painting. One is a traditional, devotional image of the Regina Caeli (Queen of Heaven) and the other is an image of my mother and I, taken from a family photograph. I was in a state of deep anguish and mourning for my recently deceased mother when this picture was painted. It was no accident that the two mother and child images directly associate my own beloved mother with the Blessed Virgin Triumphant in Majesty. In fact, I did so deliberately. 

"The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa" (Detail)

"The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa" (Detail)

Kerry Wright, 1992

Oils on Canvas

Original 120cm x 90cm (4ft x 3ft)

Detail from my 1992 painting, "The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa", revealing an image of my mother and I in the form of a devotional holy card of the Madonna & Child, secreted within the composition of the painting. The original photograph, from which this image comes, was taken in 1954 and can be viewed here:

 http://kerryoz.blogspot.com/2011/05/mum-me-1954.html

"The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa" (Detail)

"The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa" (Detail)

Kerry Wright, 1992

Oils on Canvas

Original 120cm x 90cm (4ft x 3ft)

Detail from my 1992 painting, "The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa", revealing an image of the Regina Caeli (Queen of Heaven) in the form of a devotional holy card, secreted within the composition of the painting. 

"David"

“David"

Kerry Wright - 1992

Oils on Canvas

60cm x 50cm (24in x 20in)

"The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa"

"The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa"

Kerry Wright, 1990

Oils and Conte Pastels on Canvas

90cm x 60cm (3ft x 2ft)

This painting utilizes a similar style to that of the previously posted "Portrait of Geri", albeit minus any pronounced Modigliani manifestations. Certainly, however, the influence of ecclesiastical stained-glass is most prominently present. Which is probably appropriate, given the subject matter. In contrast to my previous depiction of Saint Teresa's tryst with the arrow-wielding angel, this rendering of the same incident is executed in a lollypop palette of manic intensity. The saint's demeanour, with her panting mouth and head slumped sensuously backwards, again focuses on the carnal aspect of the encounter. The angel has been metamorphosed into a bent, blood-red beam of light.

This is the first painting I sold. I was working in a particularly gay-friendly environment at the time and, confronted with a starkly empty wall in my office, thought it entirely appropriate to fill it with a painting of larger-than-life, high-camp imagery such as this. It appeared to be appreciated favourably by my predominantly female colleagues. When one of those same colleagues was given a promotion, meaning she would be leaving our office, she asked me if she could purchase the painting from me. As I have since lost contact with her, I am unable to reproduce a clearer image at this time. What appears here is a scan of a hardcopy photograph of the painting, taken for my records before it went to its new home.

"Geri"

"Portrait of Geri"

Kerry Wright, 1987

Oils & Conte Pastels on Canvas 

90cm x 60cm (3ft x 2ft)

In the mid-1980s, I felt the urge to return to my roots in traditional studio portrait painting. However, because I was just then emerging from an intense abstract expressionist period, I was reluctant to return entirely to the strict discipline of the regimental studio portrait. Exploring new and exciting ways in which to do so was my challenge. I had always loved the sublime portraits of the tragic Italian painter, Amedeo Modigliani, so I guess it's not entirely surprising that my new technique was somewhat reminiscent of his contemplative, idiosyncratically introspective style. It must have been a subliminal influence, however, because I was most certainly not aware of it when I painted this portrait. It wasn't until when the painting was exhibited, shortly following its completion, that I started to get comments about how Modiglianiesque it was. Not that I would ever put myself in a class with such a towering genius as Modigliani, but certainly his influence is present here. The other blatantly obvious influence is that of stained glass. Institutionalised religion's insidious presence was never far from my psyche in those days.

"The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa of Avila"

"The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa of Avila"

Kerry Wright, 1984

Oils on canvas

120cm x 90cm (4ft x 3ft)

Bernini’s sculpture, “The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa”, first came to my attention when I was studying art history many years ago. It inspired this painting. Saint Teresa of Avila was a mother abbess of the esoteric, cloistered, Carmelite Order of the Roman Catholic Church in mediaeval Spain. Not to be confused with the sweetly angelic French Carmelite nun, Saint Therese of Lisieux, widely venerated as “The Little Flower”. Saint Teresa of Avila was most certainly nobody’s little flower. She was a doctor of the Church and a great reformer. A most formidable woman, indeed. The story goes that Saint Teresa was praying in chapel one day when an angel of the Lord appeared before her, bearing a heavenly arrow. The angel thrust the arrow into her breast, which she experienced as an ecstatic, overpoweringly euphoric sensation of divine love. Bernini graphically captured the moment of Teresa’s rapturous penetration in his sculpture. I found the concept of a celibate nun being penetrated to be quite quizzical, be it by a divine arrow or otherwise. It all appeared just a tiny tad less than spiritual to me. And I wondered about the expression Bernini had chosen to portray on Saint Teresa’s face. Is it soaring religious ecstasy we see or simply base carnal release? Being unsure, I decided to paint my own version, in order to allow the creative process to take me where it would. In my painting, the angel has been transmogrified into a contorted, gyrating beam of light, which embraces the saint and holds her close. Her protruding, reptilian tongue and disturbingly confronting nudity emerge from the canvas as abject manifestations of her submission before the Divinity. Bernini depicted Teresa panting, her mouth gaping wide and head lolling sensuously backwards. I took that one step further and portrayed her shrieking and salivating. 

"Paranoid Self Portrait"

"Paranoid Self Portrait"

Kerry Wright, 1983

Oils on canvas
60cm x 50cm (24in x 20in)

In case the image itself fails to convey an adequately definitive indication of what this disturbingly tormented self-portrait is attempting to portray, the title should provide the appropriate indisputable clarification.

"Objects on a Table" (Detail)

"Objects on a Table" (Detail)

Kerry Wright, 1981

Oils on canvas
Original 90cm x 90cm (3ft x 3ft)

This is all that remains; or more correctly, all that I am prepared to reveal; of the third and final portrait I painted of Daniel. In it, Daniel is depicted as sitting at a round table with a brown tablecloth against a dusky pink background. He is wearing a turquoise-coloured shirt, with the sleeves rolled-up to the elbows. Daniel's left elbow can be seen resting on the table. Laid before him on the table are three objects representing different aspects of Daniel's lifestyle at that time: a crumpled, discarded, red serviette; a dogeared photograph of an anonymous man; and a black pantomime mask. Can you guess what each of the objects signifies?   

"First Night Daniel"

"First Night Daniel" 
 Kerry Wright, 1980 
Oils on canvas
90cm x 60cm (3ft x 2ft)

I'm not exactly sure why Daniel agreed to sit for this second portrait. At the time, I understood he liked the first portrait and was pleased to sit for another. As it turned out, he didn't like either. What's even more quizzical is that he agreed to sit for a third portrait! I appreciate that it is sometimes somewhat of a confrontational experience to have one's portrait painted. We only ever see ourselves in reverse image, in the mirror, which is not how we appear in reality, to others. It is why people often don't like photographs of themselves. For the same reason, portraits often go unappreciated by the sitter. Certainly, that was the case with Daniel. It would appear that sitting proved to be nothing more than an abjectly enervating experience for Daniel. And it brought out the art critic in him. In fact, he became my most strident, scathing critic. You can't please everyone, I guess. Not even when you're in the process of immortalizing them! Daniel is a lover of live theatre, which is why I have set his portrait in a theatre foyer, mingling on First Night. 

"Velvet George"

"Velvet George" 
 Kerry Wright, 1980 
Oils on canvas
60cm x 50cm (24in x 20in)

The question is sometimes hypothetically posed, "In the event of a fire, with what precious belongings would you flee the burning building?" I have no hesitation in responding that I would choose to take this portrait of my dear friend, George, along with the portrait of my mother in the blue dress (scroll down). They are my two most precious belongings in all the world, primarily because they represent the two most precious people in my life. George was 30 when I painted his portrait in 1980. He was a portrait painter's dream subject, with his broodingly dark good looks and startlingly attractive blue-grey eyes under a knotted brow. He is painted in a favourite red shirt of the time, resulting in a friend christening the portrait "Velvet George". It was through a mutual friend that George and I first met, at Long Reef in Sydney in February 1973, not long after he had left the Royal Australian Navy and I had left the Carmelite Monastery. We have been an integral part of each other's life ever since. 

"The Dozy Embrace"

"The Dozy Embrace" 
(After Jim French)
 Kerry Wright, 1979 
Graphite on cartridge paper

I have always admired the beautiful drawings of American homoerotic artist, Jim French, who produced the most sumptuously exquisite images under the name of Rip Colt. Even though the musculature and anatomy in the drawings is impeccably rendered, it was the strikingly handsome faces that initially appealed to me the most. And the eyes. The eyes seemed to bore into one's soul with an amazingly penetrating intensity. As a young artist at the time, I thought that if I could train my eye/hand coordination to such a highly refined extent that I could reproduce the work of Jim French, then I was on my way to becoming an artist of some repute. So I copied several of his drawings. This is my favourite. When the film "Brokeback Mountain" was released many years later, I became aware that the iconic, and now famous, dozy embrace scene from that film was very reminiscent of this original Jim French image, so I renamed my drawing "The Dozy Embrace".

"Study for Portrait of Daniel"

"Study for Portrait of Daniel" 
 Kerry Wright, 1979 

Graphite on cartridge paper

Preliminary profile study completed at the time Daniel's portrait was painted in 1979. 

Scroll down for original.

"Daniel"

"Daniel" 
 Kerry Wright, 1979 
Oils on canvas
60cm x 50cm (24in x 20in)

Daniel and I have been friends for over 50 years. He kindly agreed to sit for this portrait in 1979, when he was 30. Daniel's Croatian heritage, courtesy of his father, is clearly evident here in the  prominent aquiline features, heavily hooded eyes and luxuriant leonine hair, all of which contributes to his somberly melancholic demeanour and expression of  bemused cynicism. 

"Portrait of the Artist's Mother"

"Portrait of the Artist's Mother" 
 Kerry Wright, 1979 
Oils on canvas
60cm x 50cm (24in x 20in)

This is not a happy portrait of my beloved mother, Emily Flora Wright nee Glover (1911-1991). In reality, Mum had a bright, cheery laugh and a lovely sense of humour. She laughed often and had a wonderfully warm, giving personality. This portrait, however, captures my mother during a particularly sad period of her life, not long after the death of my father. They had been inseparable and my mother was in deep pain and mourning when I painted her portrait. It's not only Mum's sad expression and hunched demeanour that conveys the impression of loss and mourning here. It is extenuated by the sombre, cool palette of blue and grey, and by the solitary string of beads Mum is wearing around her neck, above that decidedly melancholy, drooping blue bow. 

"Study for Self Portrait"

"Study for Self Portrait" 
 Kerry Wright, 1971 
Sepia ink on cartridge paper

The resultant original oil has long since vanished and only this preliminary self-portrait sketch survives. I had leaped over the monastery wall and was in the process of setting out upon my exciting new life. In this image, I gaze fixedly at the reflection looking back at me from the mirror before me. Analytical self-examination has always been an ongoing theme in my life. 

"Study for Self Portrait in Carmelite Habit"

"Study for Self Portrait in Carmelite Habit" 
 Kerry Wright, 1970 

Indian ink on cartridge paper

 I drew this image of myself wearing the Carmelite religious habit when I was studying for the priesthood within the Carmelite cloister of Mount Carmel Monastery in Sydney. I ultimately decided against this somewhat dramatically confrontational image for the final product (scroll down); however, this drawing probably says a lot about my anguished mental state at the time it was executed.

"Self Portrait in Carmelite Habit"

"Self Portrait in Carmelite Habit" 
 Kerry Wright, 1970 
Oils on canvas
60cm x 50cm (24in x 20in)

I have been sketching and painting my own image since early childhood and the above self portrait is one of my first serious attempts at capturing my likeness in oils on canvas. In the painting, I am gazing intensely, sans spectacles, at my own reflection in the mirror above the sink of my cell at Mount Carmel Carmelite Monastery in Sydney. I had entered the cloister in order to study for the priesthood. Alas, however, over a period of time, I came to realize that I did not possess the religious vocation I had so fervently hoped and prayed would be mine during my adolescence. So I leaped over the monastery wall and got on with my life in the secular world. It was a memorable experience and I met some wonderful people while I was in the monastery. Certainly, I harbour no regrets about my time spent within the Carmelite cloister. In fact, I'm glad I went in, because if I had not done so, I would always wonder if I was meant to be a priest. It was a time of intense self-reflection in my life, which is evident in this self portrait. George and I recently made a pilgrimage back to the site of the monastery and were very saddened by the overdevelopment of what had once been such an idyllic, sylvan setting. The monastery grounds had once occupied an entire vast hilltop in outer Sydney and comprised a small working farm as well as the monastic building complex itself. Everything has long since fallen victim to the city’s ever increasing suburban sprawl. The grounds have been subdivided into new streets of gaudy, ostentatious McMansions. The beautiful monastery building itself, with its pretty little chapel, laid waste by the bulldozer’s might. There’s not even a plaque to signify a monastery once stood there.

"Gordon"

"Gordon" 
 Kerry Wright, 1969 
Oils on canvas
60cm x 50cm (24in x 20in)

"Francesca da Rimini"

"Francesca da Rimini" 
 Kerry Wright, 1966 
Gouache on cartridge paper
25cm x 20cm (10in x 8in)

I could write so much about this painting! Suffice to say that it is an early work from my school days. I was 16 when I painted it in 1966. I had a major teenage crush on one of my teachers at the time. It was painted on the day of his wedding. It pretty much sums-up my state of mind on that day. I was an enormous fan of the music of Peter Tchaikovsky; one of my favourite pieces being his darkly melancholic Francesca da Rimini Overture. Dante's tragic tale of Francesca, her doomed marriage and subsequently tragic love affair seemed to fit-in with my mood that day, way back in 1966. In my painting, Francesca is symbolised by the spectral white hand (complete with wedding rings) descending into the Inferno, which is symbolised by the upward-thrusting, flame-like red hand.