Artist in Residence at the Aroma Coffee Festival - the Post Mortem

I have tried to repair the three little paintings, which were smeared during my run in with the Spanish Inquisition at the Aroma Coffee Festival at the Rocks on Sunday.
I couldn't recapture their original freshness and joie de vivre, but then I didn't expect to. 
Something more than just the actual painting got damaged in that bruising, unnecessary and humiliating encounter with mindless authoritarianism.

Punjabi Dancers at the Aroma Coffee Festival 2011 oil on canvas 15 x 15cm

I was told by one of the dancers that this was a traditional Punjabi dance to celebrate the joy of bringing in the harvest. 3 or 4 minutes of whirling circles of gold, red and blue and then it was over. I thought it was an exhilarating start to what promised to be an exhausting but creative day at the festival. I didn't expect to paint more of this dance than a few bold lines to imply their energy and grace. I wanted to 'warm up' by creating several swift impressions of as many aspects of the festival as possible.

Sydney Opera House at Dawn 2011 oil on canvas 15x15cm

This is the tiny little oil study of the Opera House that all the fuss was about.
The irony is that I was only in this spot because the Channel 9 film crew was bored out of their tiny minds, searching for something worth filming before the festival actually started.
I don't enjoy staring into the sun while painting, but Channel 9, being sticklers for tradition, like to present the weather with a conventional harbour view and an obvious landmark such as the Opera House or the Sydney Harbour Bridge in the background.
Another irony was that by the time the power-crazed and heavy handed Rangers had arrived to attempt to prevent the creation of such a dangerous and subversive work of art, I had almost completed it and was about to find another location in which to be a public nuisance.

Related articles

• A total lack of Art and Coffee on the Rocks Part 2 - A Bad Aroma (janebennettartist.blogspot.com)

A total lack of Art and Coffee on the Rocks Part 2 - A Bad Aroma

 I started to paint a quick oil sketch of a group of Indian dancers and was spotted by Channel 9, who were looking desperately for something to film before the festival opened. They dragged me off to a spot in front of the Opera House where they were going to film the weather report. Not a spot I would have chosen as it was looking directly into the rising sun, but I started a tiny study of Sydney Harbour, as they mentioned the Rocks Pop Up Project and 47 George st. I thought I had done a good job of being an ambassador for the Arts and the project.
There were few people passing by. Most were clustered around the tents several hundred metres away. I decided to finish my little Harbour study and then roam around in search of festival highlights to paint.
The study worked out quite well and a couple of people walking past made admiring comments. Then a group of people who had been friends of mine since my days in Pyrmont, stopped to chat.
All hell broke loose.


Society of Hatred For the Arts

I was bullied and harassed by the mindless goons operating as SHFA Rangers.
I was told not to paint in public.
I explained who I was and that I was the official Artist in Residence appointed to do exactly what I was doing and was not engaged in selling my work or harassing the public. Only people who stopped to admire my work and expressly asked for more information were spoken to.
One of the Rangers demanded that I put my wet oil paintings inside my trolley luggage so that they weren't 'on display'. They were not 'on display'- they were drying next to each other on my easel. Oil paint stays wet for up to a week, especially in winter, however sunny.
My 3 little paintings were scarcely blocking anyone's view as the largest canvas was only 30 x 15cm.
These two orange vested morons made a flurry of phone calls to their head nazi, who was apparently sitting in the penthouse suite of the Museum of Contemporary Art getting his jollies by watching the whole debacle unfold on his video screen. As a gigantic grudging concession I would be permitted to finish the little harbour view, providing I didn't let anyone watch me paint and that I packed the 2 wet oil paintings underneath my belongings in my bag.
Which of course smeared them, ruining the day's work.
They so didn't care.
I was told I had a studio at 47 George Street and I was to get back to my studio and stay inside during the festival.
I had an expensive French box easel and trolley luggage with things I had been planning to put in the studio later. Because of the festival my car was parked a long distance away. I was exhausted from coping with their haranguing and wanted to leave.
Could they stand by my easel to make sure nobody stole it?
No.
They were happy to stand there bullying me for a couple of hours, but they didn't have enough time to safeguard my belongings.
Creating art is a much more serious and dangerous crime than robbery.
I had no idea.
Obviously I'm a danger to society and have to be stopped at all costs.

They'd never seen a plein air artist before, and wanted to make sure that they never saw one again.
They won't.

Maximum points for irony - we were standing in front of the Museum of Contemporary Art. As I returned from the long trek to my car to pick up as much as I could from my former 'studio' I noted a busker occupying my spot, completely ignored by the rangers. He was singing. And very badly, too.
The rangers argued that the busker had a licence.
But then so did I.
"Artist in Residence", remember? 
Why appoint an Artist in Residence and forbid them to paint?
 I complained to the Rocks Marketing Authority Manager as soon as I reached the studio.
She said that she probably wasn't going to be of much use. She more than lived up to that expectation. While offering to "talk" to her troop of standover men, she could give no guarantee that the same thing wouldn't happen the next time I picked up a paintbrush outside the 'safety' of the studio.
She said something that made my blood run cold.
"People were in the Rocks to see the coffee not to see art"
Well that puts the nail in the coffin for so-called "Creative Sydney" doesn't it!
This attitude explains why Sydney doesn't have the cultural ambience of Melbourne or Adelaide, never mind aspiring to the standards of Paris or Rome.
As an Australian Artist I am used to being treated like dirt - it's part of the job. Imagine an Australian sportsperson being treated with this amount of disrespect. See, you can't, can you.
But what utterly disgusts me is the shabby pretence of "fostering creativity" while doing the utmost to stifle it.

As far as I can tell, these are the 10 rules of the City of Sydney:

Don't be an artist.
Don't be creative.
Don't produce anything. ( And if you do - don't let anyone watch you. Ever.)
Don't be eccentric.
Don't be sensitive.
Don't be unusual.
Don't be interesting.
Don't be unique.
Don't think for yourself.
Don't stand out.

Just don't.

(A total lack of) Art and Coffee on the Rocks!

I've just been appointed as the inaugural Artfiles Artist In Residence at The Rocks Pop Up Project.
As Artist in Residence, I will be on or painting close by around the site from Wednesday to Sunday for the next 4 weeks. Tomorrow I'm going to check out my new space at 47 George St, which used to be an old Westpac Bank office. This project features an eclectic mix of creatives over at 47 and 77 George St, the Rocks. Gaffa, Red Room Company, artists, fashion designers, jewellery makers and even a tailor are just some of the residents breathing new life into the previously empty spaces.
I will take my French Box easel, turn up at a nearby location very early in the morning and create small, quick plein air paintings in and around the Rocks, Walsh Bay Wharves and Barangaroo.
Then later in the day I would be able to work these small pieces up into studio paintings at leisure in the studio space at 47 George St.
I could paint a large scale painting in front of the public, not only providing them with a source of entertainment and information but a chance to communicate, so that it is a “two-way street”. Most people have never seen an artist at work and find it quite fascinating to watch. As a ‘plein air painter’ I am a seasoned practitioner of an almost lost craft. Most of my work, including large scale canvases, not just sketches, has been painted in front of the public, whether workers or casual onlookers. It has been a major part of my normal artistic practice to do so for nearly 30 years, so I'm used to coping with distractions, interruptions and horrible weather. This is an opportunity for people to watch the creative process at work, ask questions and make comments without feeling intimidated by a gallery atmosphere. My subject matter is limitless : The surroundings - Heritage buildings, colourful and disreputable old pubs like the 'Hero of Waterloo', 'The Orient' and the 'Lord Nelson', ferries and water taxis, the cruise ships arriving and departing from the OPT. The people -Rocks residents, the bustle of the markets, shop owners, storekeepers and buskers.My first real "taste" of my new studio, both literally and metaphorically, will be on Sunday 31st July, whilst indulging in coffee from around the world at Australia’s largest coffee event, the Rocks Aroma Festival.
Update

Well that was the plan.

I have been bullied and harassed by the SHFA goon squad of Rangers so badly that I am removing all my belongings from the 'studio' and will never return.

I previously wrote

This is an opportunity for people to watch the creative process at work, ask questions and make comments without feeling intimidated by a gallery atmosphere. Well I have been the one to be intimidated.
The Rocks is no longer a place for an artist.
And if you are creative in public you will be treated like a criminal.

I had never attended the Rocks Aroma festival before.

I will make damn sure that I will never be silly enough to do so again.