"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.

"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

 Kerry Wright

1993

Indian ink and charcoal on cartridge paper

55cm x 42cm

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

Kerry Wright

1993

Indian ink and charcoal on cartridge paper

55cm x 42cm

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

Kerry Wright

1993

Indian ink and charcoal on cartridge paper

55cm x 42cm

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.