Artist Eric Smith won 3 Archibalds, then vanished. A new show reveals his unseen works
- Written by Tom Murray, Professor in Screen Media and Creative Arts, Macquarie University
There are many routes to artistic obscurity. The surest path, of course, is to have never been discovered in the first place. But this wasn’t the case with the late Eric Smith (1919-2017).
His story is not that of Vincent Van Gogh or Vivian Maier, who only achieved fame after death. Nor did he go out of his way to try and remain obscure, like Ron Gittens or James Hampton.
Rather, Smith’s is a story of a major artist who quite simply, and unexpectedly, vanished from public life.
A new exhibition at the Macquarie University Art Gallery, which I am co-curating, will display a range of Smith’s work – including paintings from the last four decades of his career that have never been shown before.
From fame to phantom
Smith was an artist constantly in search of ways to “express truths in our times”, and employed diverse ways of doing so across a career that included religious paintings, portraits and large abstract works.
Between his breakthrough year in 1956, when he won the first of six Blake Prizes with The Scourged Christ, and 1982, when he won the last of his three Archibalds with a portrait of Peter Sculthorpe, Smith was as lauded as an artist could be.
He had a significant role in launching Australian abstract expressionism in the famous group show, Direction 1. His art was installed in churches and public buildings, and collected by major institutions. He was quoted and photographed in the press.
Then, while working as prolifically as ever, he seemed to disappear. Why?
The death of Rudy Komon
Rudy Komon was a Czech emigrant and a larger than life bon vivant and gallerist who launched the careers of many of Australia’s finest painters.
Komon represented Smith, who he called “meister”, from 1963 and throughout the most publicly productive part of Smith’s career. Smith even won the 1981 Archibald with a painting of Komon.
However, Komon died the following year.
And according to David Taylor, an art collector and later a patron of Smith’s, “Eric’s art career died with him”.
“When Rudy died Eric had no one to connect him to the art world anymore. He was a modest man and no self-publicist,” Taylor explained to me.
“It was pretty much only me that was left buying his paintings.”
And there were a lot of paintings. Despite Smith’s exhibiting career grinding to a near halt, with no major-gallery shows after 1989, he spent the next four decades on an 8am to 6pm studio regime punctuated only by lunch and tea breaks.
Untitled [Fool’s Gold], 2004, oil on canvas, 164.5cm x 204.5cm. David and Diane Taylor Family Collection.
“He’d finish just in time for the 6pm news”, Barbara Smith told me.
Barbara is Smith’s daughter and the manager of his legacy.
“Dad was always driven by what he saw as the challenges in his work and resolving them in the studio.”
Smith was also heavily self-critical. He admitted to destroying more than half of his artistic output – completely repainting or throwing away paintings that didn’t meet his vision.
At the age of 90, ever the self-critic and despite his successes, he said to his family: “You can’t change styles like I did and hope to get anywhere.”
Forms that express deeper feelings
Smith converted to Catholicism in the 1950s and was a life-long consumer of art-history and philosophy. These tendencies can be seen in his 1950s religious paintings and later abstract works.
The Scourged Christ, 1956, oil on composition board, 116cm x 85cm. Gift of Hugh Jamieson, Penrith Regional Gallery Collection.
In the 1950s he found inspiration in the works of the Fauvist painter Georges Rouault, and later in the works of Alfred Manessier. We see these influences in the bold outlines and church-window-esque colours used in paintings such as The Raising of Lazarus (1953) and The Scourged Christ (1956).
Smith’s later large abstract paintings such as Eternity I (1998), Orange Dawn (1999) and Untitled (Fools Gold) (2004) are evidence of his artistic quest to “find forms that express the deeper feelings” he wanted to convey.
Orange Dawn, 1999, oil on canvas, 171cm x 213cm. David and Diane Taylor Family Collection.
Some of these later works share concerns aligned with Mark Rothko and Barnett Newman’s explorations of the “sublime” (influenced by Immanuel Kant’s ideas on the sublime), Richard Pousette-Dart’s soulful paintings of geometric forms, and Paul Partos rectangular forms representing inner emotions.
Smith was also skilled in portraiture, as evidenced by his depictions of fellow artists Leonard Hessing, Norman Lindsay, Louis James and Hector Gilliland, as well as his Archibald-winning portrait of Rudy Komon.
His luminous Portrait of Diane (1998), a family friend and patron, is a particularly powerful image which Smith described as his Mona Lisa.
Portrait of Diane, 1998, oil on canvas, 69cm x 50cm. David and Diane Taylor Family Collection.
It’s easy to see why writer and critic Paul McGillick argues Smith should be considered “one of Australia’s most visionary portraitists”.
Yet, without exhibitions and dealers and auctioneers to champion him over the decades, Smith’s work has largely vanished from the public.
Then again, “not having exhibitions didn’t bother him too much, it was the painting and process that really mattered to him,” said Barbara.
An exhibit 40 years in the making
Luckily for posterity, a number of Smith’s masterpieces survived his destructive self-critique.
These works, which are now mostly privately held, will be on display at Eric Smith: The metaphysics of paint. It is the first major exhibition of Smith’s work since the 1980s, and the first retrospective or survey of his work since his death in 2017.
“I’m sure Dad would have been extremely excited and honoured,” Barbara said.
Eric Smith: The metaphysics of paint is showing at the Macquarie University Art Gallery from June 19 to August 1.
Authors: Tom Murray, Professor in Screen Media and Creative Arts, Macquarie University
