Norfolk Guardian

Today's painting on my deck gallery is a diptych of an unusual visitor to the East Darling Harbour Wharves.

I spent most of the early 2000s as ‘Artist in Residence’ on the East Darling Harbour Wharves before its redevelopment into Barangaroo. 

One day in 2005 I arrived very early on a calm clear morning & a couple of wharfies grabbed me as I signed in.They were very excited & yelled “Quick, get your easel, you must paint the Norfolk Guardian- you don’t see ships like this every day!” 

A smallish vessel was docking at Wharf 5. It had an oddly shaped crane in its centre, which I later found out was known as a ‘derrick’ crane as it looked similar to the old fashioned oil rigs. A Derrick ship’s crane is a relic of the past, harking back to the days before containerization forced uniformity of ship design & changed their lines from sleek to squat & boxy.
The luminous peach tones of the horizon meeting the skyline of Goat Island & the northern suburbs in the background harmonized with the butter yellow ship's crane & sky blue hull, making an odd contrast with the heavy industrial subject matter. 

I watched the complex interplay of the ship's crane with the shore crane with a mixture of fascination & trepidation as rows of pipes were unloaded with consummate skill.
I didn't know how long I'd have to paint it before it left, so I added an extra canvas to the original one, making the total image a square.

DH34A-B'The Norfolk Guardian Diptych' 2005

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

each panel oil on canvas 91 x 46 cm
Available for sale
The M.V. Norfolk Guardian (IMO: 8600856) is a General Cargo that was built in 1987, sailing under the flag of Tonga, & freighting break bulk cargo to Norfolk Island, New Zealand & the South Pacific. Ports of call include Norfolk Island, Auckland, Lyttleton & Marsden Point, Tasmania. Transhipments can be arranged to various destinations in the South Pacific, including Samoa, Fiji, etc.
Cargo handled by the Norfolk Guardian includes: general cargo, hazardous goods, freezer/cooler, hardwood poles, sawn timber, processed timber products.
They also ship Personal Effects from Norfolk Island & New Zealand to Yamba, Australia.

"Break bulk" is a term used for products which can't be transported in containers. It includes a wide mix of articles- from salt, gypsum, cement to timber, steel coils and heavy machinery as well as cars, trucks and boats.

About 50 years ago, the containerization of shipping modified the wharves dramatically & transformed port cities beyond recognition.

The humble shipping container isn't just a metal box - it created the world as we know it today.

Once goods were loaded and transported around the world as "break bulk" cargo. Container standardization revolutionized global trade, making it easier, quicker and cheaper. However,with the advent of the container, some of the mystery & magic of the shipping industry was lost forever.

John Crowley, the Port Operations Manager, used to describe the East Darling Harbour Wharves (aka Port Jackson) as a ‘boutique’ wharf. 

Port Botany is built on a superhuman scale and only deals with containers, so is huge, homogeneous and increasingly run by robots. Port Jackson, on the other hand, had a mix of break-bulk & containers & therefore was more dependent on the personal skills and judgement of the individual wharf workers. 

Islander ships are dwarfed by the container ships & totally unsuitable for the huge computerized straddle cranes of Port Botany. 

Now that the East Darling Harbour Wharves are closed, most "break bulk" is unloaded at Port Kembla, although Blackwattle Bay and to an increasingly lesser extent Glebe Island and White Bay still handle salt, cement and gypsum. 

Related Posts 

 

My Hungry Mile page in this blog 

 

End of an era - Maersk Gateshead 

 

Last of the Hungry Mile 

 

Barangaroo - Tabula Rasa 

 

Crane, East Darling Harbour Wharves

Crane, East Darling Harbour Wharves

In 2003, the State Government announced that the stevedoring wharves at East Darling Harbour, on the western edge of Miller's Point, known since the Depression as the 'Hungry Mile', would be transformed into a new urban precinct, which would later be known as Barangaroo.
The wharf has now closed forever and Sydney’s traditional role as a working harbour is essentially over.
For Sydney Harbour no longer to be a working port and to be stripped of its original character and purpose, was almost unthinkable.
I resolved to paint its hidden history before it was too late. This concrete expanse was often derided as 'ugly', usually by people who had never set foot on it, but I found it a rich and fascinating source of inspiration for a series of several hundred paintings.
I became 'Artist in Residence' in 2003, and was still painting there after the last wharfie left in October 2007. I always painted 'en plein air', even though the completed works have the compositional poise of a Jeffrey Smart.
DH135A 'Maintaining the crane' Diptych
2007 oil on canvas 51 x 25.5cm each panel
Available for sale

This was painted towards the end of East Darling Harbour's days as an operational wharf. I had often painted each of the 3 cranes on the wharf, although being able to get all three in a single canvas was nearly impossible. They didn't run on rails - they all had retractable stabilizers in the shape of pyramids, and these lifted to allow the cranes to trundle up and down the wharf on their rows of tyres.

I spent much of my time on the wharf chasing these wretched things up and down the wharf, in hot pursuit of my recalcitrant subjects. Even if their lower halves stayed put, they were raising, lowering, twisting and turning. I'd have to start 4 or 5 small canvases, each one with the crane in a different pose.

This crane was "L1" the oldest & most complicated of the 3 Liebherr cranes known by the wharfies as "Big Bird" as apparently it was originally yellow. 

It was loathed by the wharfies as it was complex and rather over-engineered, so prone to breaking down. The L3 crane was much easier to operate and maintain, and incidentally, much easier for me to paint. If the L1 crane moved even slightly out of its original position, it was infinitely harder for me to predict what I should alter to adapt the old position to the new one. The result is that I have a lot more unfinished and unfinishable paintings of this crane than of the 2 others put together. 

DH135A 'Maintaining the crane' left panel of Diptych
2007 oil on canvas 51 x 25.5cm each panel
Available for sale

When I was painting on the wharves, all three cranes were red, which made them difficult to paint against the red Wallenius Wilhelmsen ships. 

Although they were all a shade of red, and more than likely had been painted at the same time with the same brand of paint, each of the cranes was a different shade of red. Not just lighter or darker, but some were definitely more towards the pink than red. The L1 crane was a light- medium bluish pink, the sort of pink derived from mixing magenta or alizarin crimson with white. L2 veered between napthol crimson, Windsor bright red and in the more care-worn patches, the pink obtained by mixing white with cadmium red deep. L3 was in places almost a true red, requiring mostly cadmium red medium and even a few vermilion highlights. All these colours had very different properties, as the cadmium colours were very opaque and the alizarin and magenta were semi-transparent and took much longer to dry. They had one thing in common though, they were amongst the most expensive paints to buy - Series 4. 5 or 6. The prices go up exponentially from Series 1. Series 2 paints are about half as much again as the previous series, Series 3 half to two thirds as much as 2, etc, etc. As usually the cranes were in front of a red Wallenius Wilhelsen ship, which was a different hue of red again (usually cadmium red light), this meant that the art shops became seriously rich from my stint as 'Artist in Residence ' on the wharf. But to do justice to the scene in front of me I had to be true to the subtle nuances of the changing light and colour in front of me.

DH135A 'Maintaining the crane' right hand Diptych
2007 oil on canvas 51 x 25.5cm each panel
Available for sale

Later in 2007, all three cranes were painted yellow again in the AT & T colours. A couple were taken to Melbourne's Webb Dock, but 'Big Bird' was taken down to Port Kembla on the "Sea-Tow" barge.

It's still at Port Kembla - I noticed it when I was painting the Port Kembla Copper Stack before it was demolished in February 2014.

I painted this diptych in 2007 as it was undergoing much needed maintenance in front of Wharf 6, not long before its new paint job and long sea journey.

The odd looking object wrapped in white is a helicopter. Some of the wharfies had been discussing what would be the most difficult object to wrap as a birthday present, so that the recipient wouldn't be able to guess what it was. One of them suggested a tricycle, but I think the helicopter would have won that competition.

 

Related Posts

 

My paintings of the Hungry Mile 

 

The end of an era 

 

Paintings of a passing port 

 

Last of the Hungry Mile 

 

Painting the Svitzer tug 'Wonga' 

 

A last look at the Harbour Control Tower 

 

Millers Point from the top of the Harbour Control Tower 

Painting Sydney Harbour in the footsteps of Turner

All this winter I've felt something's been lacking.

Vivid.

Due to Covid-19 it couldn't be held this year, and for all I know New Year's Eve and Australia Day celebrations may not be held in the foreseeable future either.

I've often mocked Sydney for valuing style over substance, but I have to confess that I like a mindlessly pretty display of fairy lights against a harbour view as much as anyone.

So for anyone getting withdrawal symptoms, here's one on the easel of my deck gallery.

U118 Fireship under the Bridge
oil on canvas 2003 61 x 91cm
Available for sale
This canvas of the burning ship against a backdrop of fireworks illuminating the Sydney Harbour Bridge was painted in the studio from a series of quick gouache studies that I did on New Year's Eve 2003, well over a decade before Vivid was ever thought of. I regard this as a sort of 'proto-Vivid'.
It added a new dimension to the usual fireworks and was a startling sight if you weren't aware that it was in fact a special effect, and not a tragic fire on board the 'James Craig'.
The first time I saw it, like hundreds, possibly thousands of others, I rang 000 in a panic to report it. You could almost hear the person from Emergency Services rolling their eyes, as they assured me that it was just a special effect, that , no, the James Craig was just fine, and thanked me for my misplaced concern.
The Fireship apparently commemorated an early 19th century convict ship that had caught fire, and in the weeks after, during the Sydney Festival, there was a 'son et lumiere' show every night for a couple of weeks. I forget the details and the story, and frankly I think everyone else did as well. The images of the fire reflected in the water were all the spectators really were interested in, and the story seemed just a flimsy excuse.
As I painted some quick sketches in gouache and watercolour, I was glad that i'd spent so much of my 1996 Marten Bequest Traveling Art Scholarship holed up in the Print and Drawing Room of the Clore Gallery (the section of the Tate Gallery devoted to the work of Turner, obsessively painting studies of the many fabulous Turner watercolours in their collection. The Petworth series and the burning of the Houses of Parliament were my favourites. I became so good at painting them that the staff became slightly alarmed, and demanded that I sign my studies on the back so that I wouldn't be able to do a bit of a 'switcheroo' while their backs were turned! I took this as a sort of a backhanded compliment, but my goal wasn't to just mindlessly copy, but to try to conquer the mystery of painting sea,sky, storm, night and fire. How to make the intangible, tangible.
When I returned from my Traveling Art Scholarship, I actually exhibited some of these in a couple of exhibitions "The Grand Tour" and "In the Footsteps of the Masters" that acted like a sort of debriefing - a transition phase from the scholarship to the routine of regular commercial exhibitions.
I'd seen a lot of amazing art, and learnt a lot, but how was I going to incorporate this into what I would paint on my return?

U118 Fireship under the Bridge
oil on canvas 2003 61 x 91cm
Available for sale
Painting the Fireship was a chance to give a virtuoso display of layers of translucent glazes of breathtakingly expensive and exotic colours such as Aureolin, Rose Madder and Alizarin Crimson. These aren't the sort of colours that usually get a work out during plein air painting.
However, as I started to paint lost trades and dying industries, I would get more and more frequent opportunities to use them. Subjects like the Oxycutter at William Wallbank and Sons, or the Blacksmiths at the Eveleigh Railway Workshops provided further connections to the lost world of the Early Industrial Revolution that Turner and his predecessors de Loutherbourg and Joseph Wright of Derby immortalized. The major difference is that these artists were painting the founding of this era - I'm painting its demise.

Related Posts


Vivid

Meltdown, Oxycutting at William Wallbank and Sons

Irons in the fire

Painters and dockers - Artist in Residence on the tall ship 'James Craig' Part 2

Starting my plein air painting of

"Painters with 'James Craig ' in Garden Island dry dock"

Available

I had originally stored my paints, brushes, canvases, table, chair and easel in the deckhouse of the James Craig, but I realised that the ritual of unlocking and sorting through all my stuff wasted too much time. Now I keep the half-finished canvases on the 'tween deck of the James Craig, and leave the table and easel in a corner on the floor of the dry dock.

unfinished plein air painting of

"Painters with 'James Craig ' in Garden Island dry dock"

Available

It's quite a hike down from the ship to the floor of the dry dock.

unfinished plein air painting of "Painters with 'James Craig '

in Garden Island dry dock"

Available

I choose a position where the ship looms toward me between the walls of the dry dock.

Unfinished plein air painting of "Painters with 'James Craig '

in Garden Island dry dock"

Available

I try to make sure that I have enough room for the mast, rigging and the dockyard crane overhead.

unfinished plein air painting of

'James Craig in drydock being painted'

2013 oil on canvas 100 x 75cm

Available

I knew that it would be overcast and so prepared a few canvases with a black imprimatura (underpainting). I find that this gives the clouds a more 3 dimensional quality.

Artist Jane Bennett with her unfinished plein air painting

of 'James Craig in drydock being painted'

2013 oil on canvas 100 x 75cm
Available

Portrait of the artist in full PPE (personal protective equipment) regalia.

Artist Jane Bennett with her unfinished plein air painting

of 'James Craig in drydock being painted'

2013 oil on canvas 100 x 75cm
Available

Hard hat, hi res jacket, tinted safety glasses, earmuffs and metal capped boots.

Unfinished plein air painting of

'James Craig in drydock being painted'

2013 oil on canvas 100 x 75cm
Available

There is another tall ship, the HMB Endeavour, in the dry dock, but I can't get too close to her as she is being sandblasted back to her original wood and can barely be seen in the dust haze.

Unfinished plein air painting of

'James Craig in drydock being painted'

2013 oil on canvas 100 x 75cm
Available

The dark bulk of the 'James Craig' stands out dramatically in front of the threatening clouds.

Unfinished plein air painting of

'James Craig in drydock being painted'

2013 oil on canvas 100 x 75cm
Available

I was worried that it was going to rain. It's risky starting such a large canvas as it takes so many trips back up to the top. The dockyard steps are narrow and a wet canvas has to be carried on its own without other luggage.

.

Unfinished plein air painting of

'James Craig in drydock being painted'

2013 oil on canvas 100 x 75cm
Available
Suddenly I realized that I wasn't the only painter on the dock floor, as 2 white clad men started to haphazardly spray patches of red on the prow of James Craig.

Unfinished plein air painting of

'James Craig in drydock being painted'

2013 oil on canvas 100 x 75cm
Available  

They cheekily "offer" to pose for me. They don't actually mean it, but I paint them in anyway.

Their figures provide a useful gauge to judge scale. This painterly device is known as "staffage" - the size of the figures can be compared and contrasted with the size of the ship
Tim Drinkwater, the dockyard manager of the Sydney Heritage Fleet, told me that the painters would only be there for 8 minutes, but that was long enough for me to block in the basic shapes.
The painters came up later to take photos of my painting of them.
They will be back to finish their painting on Tuesday.
I like the patchy 'work in progress' look of the hull, so I'll try to finish my painting before theirs.


My half - finished painting of
'James Craig in drydock being painted'
2013 oil on canvas 100 x 75cm
Available 
This canvas is in a 'portrait' format - vertical rather than the more usual horizontal one, which is unusual for a painting of a ship.


My half - finished painting of
'James Craig in drydock being painted'
2013 oil on canvas 100 x 75cm
Available 

I wanted the ship to dominate the canvas and used the extreme perspective to make it feel as though it is towering over the onlooker, and the prow almost poke you in the eye.

My half - finished painting of
'James Craig in drydock being painted'
2013 oil on canvas 100 x 75cm
Available 

I am quite short, so I have to fold the legs of the easel up and set it on the ground as I'm not tall enough to paint the masts and rigging with it in the ordinary position.

My half - finished painting of
'James Craig in drydock being painted'
Available 

At least this way it won't fall over in the wind.

My half - finished painting of 'James Craig in drydock being painted'
2013 oil on canvas 100 x 75cm
Available 
They keep moving the dockyard crane. Any further to the left and it will be out of the picture. I can only just manage to squeeze it in without it looking too cramped.



My half - finished painting of
"Painters with 'James Craig ' in Garden Island dry dock" 2013
oil on canvas 75 x 100cm
Available 

I like the final position of the crane, though, as it won't be obscured by the masts and rigging. It gives the composition a little more drama, as it looks as though it could topple into the dock with a gust of wind.

My half - finished painting of
"Painters with 'James Craig ' in Garden Island dry dock"
2013 oil on canvas 75 x 100cm
Available 

The end of my first full day painting on the floor of the dry dock - time to lug my easel, paint, chair, paints, brushes and large wet canvases all the way up the stairs of the dock and across the gangplank to my studio on the 'tweendeck of the James Craig. It's a long way up and takes several trips so I won't need to join a gym anytime soon.

My studio on the 'tween deck of the 'James Craig'
World's coolest studio!
 Available

'James Craig in drydock being painted'
2013 oil on canvas 100 x 75cm
Available

'James Craig and HMB Endeavour in drydock 2'
2013 oil on canvas 75 x 100cm
Available

 

Related posts

Artist in Residence on the James Craig Part 1

Painting Spirit of Tasmania 1 in Garden Island Drydock

Australia Day 2011 at Darling Harbour Part 1: Endeavour