No title [White sketch] c. 1973 is a calm and introspective painting. On a tall, thin sheet of masonite, the artist has painted a series of graceful, physical brushstrokes in white paint.[2] Tuckson seems to have worked with the board hung horizontally on the wall. Starting from a point about 30 cm from the right side, he made a fluid stroke to the right-hand edge then, looping back on the original mark, he trailed the brush the entire length of the board. From this ‘horizon’ line he worked down in a soft arc—echoing the gesture of the arm—and pushed the brush momentarily over the lower edge of the board before continuing this stroke along the lower edge where he finished it with a slight kick. Here Tuckson may have paused to replenish the brush, or turned it, before completing the third, final pass, roughly parallel to the line above. Flicks of red and pink from other works have later dried on unpainted sections of the board.

During his lifetime, Tuckson’s career as an artist was overshadowed by his role as arts administrator. On the other hand, his employment at the Art Gallery of New South Wales brought him into contact with modern art through the gallery’s temporary exhibitions, through books and magazines in the reference library, and via his connections with other artists living overseas. Daniel Thomas has noted a general shift in Sydney in 1956 as American Abstract Expressionism began to be discussed widely;[3] Tuckson was certainly familiar with the work of influential painters such as Jackson Pollock and Willem de Kooning, albeit via reproductions. His study of other artists, and the museum-study tour that he undertook in 1967–68, were likewise important to his practice. Indeed, he demonstrates a fascinating assimilation of Western and non-Western sources in his work. In the early 1970s, as Tuckson managed to separate his curatorial commitments from his painting activities—taking responsibility for the collections of Aboriginal and Oceanic art—he had less compunction in exhibiting his work.[4] Recognition, after his solo shows in 1970 and 1973, was prompt.

Tuckson’s work reveals his process and, as many commentators have observed, his subject is the act of painting itself.[5] No title [White sketch] captures a moment of self-awareness, of quiet contemplation in painterly form. Tim Fisher goes one step further, reading the painting as a self-portrait, a ‘perceptive physical self-description of the painter—his size, balance and, remarkably, his state of mind.’[6] Tuckson combines the urgency of his American counterparts with an elegance of composition. Even in an oeuvre dominated by strong lines, the ‘sketch’ is unusual for its bravura—only in Tuckson’s drawings do we find such austerity and clarity of purpose. ‘The same old thing. Up and down and across and back,’ was his reply to a young artist who questioned him about what he’d been doing. His response was illustrated with large gestures.[7] If only it was quite so simple.

Lucina Ward

[1] Seems to have been lent to the exhibition by Margaret Tuckson [TBC]

[2] It is a format that Tuckson used often, in a variety of sizes: see, for example, White on black with paper c. 1973, synthetic polymer paint and paper on composition board, 244 x 122 cm, Ballarat Fine Art Gallery, and Pink with charcoal lines  1973, acrylic on two hardboard panels, 244 x 91.5 cm, Art Gallery of NSW, Sydney.

[3] Thomas points out that the work of American painters such as Pollock and de Kooning was known from magazines, while many Australian artists were already familiar with European tachists such as Pierre Soulages and Hans Hartung. Tony Tuckson 1921–1973: A memorial exhibition,Sydney: Art Gallery of New South Wales 1976, p. 12 or Tony Tuckson, 1921–1973, East Sydney: Watters Gallery & Margaret Tuckson 1982, p. 15.

[4] As deputy director from 1957 until his death in 1973, Tuckson was responsible for the Australian art collection until Daniel Thomas’ appointment as Senior Curator and Curator of Australian art in 1971.

[5] James Gleeson, for example, described Tuckson’s work as revealing the pains and joys of the birthing process: ‘He shows the making of a painting with all the travail fully exposed, without prettification or pretence that it hasn’t hurt; there is something almost shocking in the completeness of the exposure … ’ Gleeson, ‘The travail of painting’, Sun Herald, 22 April 1973. In a similar vein, Thomas has suggested that Tuckson’s abstract late works emphasized an inner, subjective world and communicated a sense of humanity, courage and freshness. ‘An introduction to Tony Tuckson 1921–1973’ in Geoffrey Legge et al, Tony Tuckson, Fishermans Bend: Craftsman House 2006, pp. 35–37

[6] Painting forever: Tony Tuckson, Canberra: National Gallery of Australia 2000, p. 6.

[7] Tony Tuckson 1921–1973: A memorial exhibition, p. 16.