Ground Zero

wake up
look around
memorise what you see
it may be gone tomorrow
everything changes. Someday
there will be nothing but what is remembered
there may be no-one to remember it.
Keep moving
wherever you stand is ground zero
a moving target is harder to hit

"Ground Zero" by Michael Dransfield 

Today's painting on my deck gallery is yet another canvas celebrating something that no longer exists & probably remembered by very few.

AGL38 'AGL Site, Mortlake' 2004
oil on canvas 75 x 100 cm
Available for sale

In 1884, the Australian Gas Light Company purchased 32 hectares of land at Mortlake and began gas production there on the 23rd May 1886.
The A.G.L. Gasworks at Mortlake boasted grandiose structures modelled on the Beckton Works in East London. It was probably no coincidence that the engineer in charge of works, Thomas Bush, had previously been employed at Beckton.

 

 

AGL38 'AGL Site, Mortlake' 2004

oil on canvas 75 x 100 cm

Available for sale

The company had operated other gasworks in Sydney, but their entire gas-making operation was transferred to Mortlake in 1922 as the river provided a cheap and efficient means of obtaining coal, which was its raw material.

There was an enormous workforce. When AGL's Mortlake plant was in full operation it used nearly 460,000 tonnes of coal per year which was brought from Hexham on the Hunter River, by colliers known as the 'Sixty Milers'.

The rotting hulk of one of the colliers decorates the upper reaches of the Parramatta River, and its remains can still be seen if the tide is high enough to allow passage for the Rivercats.

The initials “C.W.G.” stand for Carburetted Water Gas which sounds a little as though it has something to do with Coca-cola. The C.W.G. Building once contained 6 retort houses which had continually burnt coal from Newcastle to light Sydney’s streets. 

Exhibition of AGL site Mortlake paintings
in Breakfast Point Community Centre 2004 

 

 

The process of carbonization to obtain gas from coal was discontinued on 31st December 1971. Thereafter, natural gas from the interior of Australia was piped to Mortlake where it was given an odour for safety reasons and distributed to consumers throughout Sydney. Ironically, Mortlake itself was one of the last suburbs to be converted to natural gas. The gasworks finally closed on Friday 15th June 1990 & the sprawling 58 hectare site became a moonscape.

Exhibition of AGL site Mortlake paintings
in Breakfast Point Community Centre 2004

The site had already been half demolished by the time I found it and there were only a couple of other ruins dotted around the vast wasteland.
Extensive remediation had begun. As a century’s worth of stinking coal tar waste was removed from the site, networks of channels were carved through the glowing sandstone surrounding the C.W.G. Building. After rain, these channels would fill with water, becoming a network of canals and lakes reflecting the ruins.
A terrifying 40 metre chasm had been excavated in front of it to remove the coal tar residue. Against it the C.W.G. Building loomed overhead, neatly sliced in half and propped up with a mad cat’s cradle of eye-popping red bollards opening wide in front of me as though to welcome me with an embrace. I had to write myself a 'post it note' to attach to my easel to remind me not to walk backwards to admire my painting as there was only a couple of metres between my easel and a sudden drop!

Exhibition of AGL site Mortlake paintings
in Breakfast Point Community Centre 2004
The former AGL Gasworks site has now been completely redeveloped into the controversial new gated suburb of Breakfast Point by Rosecorp. The complex of white and pale beige apartments and townhouses is totally unrecognizable from its industrial past.

 
Exhibition of AGL site Mortlake paintings
in Breakfast Point Community Centre 2004
To coincide with the opening of their new suburb, Rosecorp and the CFMEU jointly invited me to hold a solo exhibition in their freshly built Community Hall.
My paintings consisted almost entirely of renditions of the C.W.G. Building, which had recently been demolished.
Irony totally intentional.

Related Posts 

My AGL Gasworks page

Shadowboard

A shadow board is one of the most common options for tool storage found in amateur and professional workshops and sheds the world over. Its noble aim is to organize the workplace so that tools are near the work station where they are to be used.

Work in progress on the easel
E135A 'Shadowboard - No Brake' 2017
oil on metal panel 51 x 51cm
Available

Shadow boards have the outlines of a work station's tools marked on them, so operators can quickly identify which tools are in use or missing.

As well as providing easy access to tools,they are supposed to reduce time spent searching for the correct tool; to reduce losses due to carelessness, lack of proper maintenance or theft; to improve work station safety as tools are replaced safely after use, rather than becoming potential hazards; to reduce clutter; and to maximize the space available.

Work in progress on the easel
E135A 'Shadowboard - No Brake' 2017
oil on metal panel 51 x 51cm
Available

Well that was the Platonic ideal anyway.

The dream of imposing order on chaos is often cruelly exposed as exactly that - a dream, when reality kicks in.

How should a shadowboard be organized?

Sounds so easy and straightforward, but it reveals fundamental and often irreconcilable differences in temperament, age and level of expertise, and can be the source of perpetual bickering, even long-running feuds.

Work in progress on the easel
E135A 'Shadowboard - No Brake' 2017
oil on metal panel 51 x 51cm
Available

Should it be organized by type of tool (all spanners, screwdrivers etc grouped together), by size (aesthetically pleasing to have a hierarchy of tools descending by size, but not necessarily the most practical), by frequency of use (commonly used tools in the middle where they are easily removed or replaced) by ease of removal /replacement (large, awkwardly sized or heavy tools placed where people don't have to reach up or down for them) or by what is required for common tasks (a particular size of wrench/saw/hammer/screwdriver etc are often needed together for a task that crops up frequently).

Sometimes it can even be a passive-aggressive wish list, like a recent commercial for a hardware line of products where empty outlines were left for needed or desired tools, either in hope of a future financial windfall or thoughtful gift.

E135B'Shadowboard with 44 class diesel
-(Do not pull all way out) '
2017 oil on metal panel 51 x 51cm
Available

The usual result is a hotch potch of all the above.

Jumble of the useful, the once useful and now obsolete, the broken bits, the spare parts that 'may come in handy'; the lost, strayed and some frankly useless items that seem to breed unchecked in dark corners. When, if ever, were any of these used? Last week? Last century?

Work in progress on the easel
E135B'Shadowboard with 44 class diesel
-(Do not pull all way out) '
2017 oil on metal panel 51 x 51cm
Available

I used metal panels to paint on instead of my usual canvas, leaving the metal bare when the tool was shiny and well maintained, and only painting the non-metallic or rusty parts. The work above also includes a 44 class diesel lurking in the background.

The faded, naive lettering found on cryptic signs create abstract yet evocative grids of letters and word fragments, colour and text fading into meditative, elegiac compositions.

Other mysteries abound. As this is a workshop filled with tools and presumably people who know how to use them, why did someone bother to write "Do not pull all way out" on the drawers of the cabinet beneath, instead of fixing the drawer?

I'm no handyperson, but even I can fix drawers - it's fiddly but not that hard.

E135A 'Shadowboard - No Brake' 2017
oil on metal panel 51 x 51cm
Available

A massive Marie Kondo attack has been carried out in the Large Erecting Shop to tackle decades of clutter. Nothing to do with sparking joy.

Everything deemed not strictly necessary to the re-purposing of the Large Erecting Shop as a running shed is being given the old heave-ho - best case scenario sent to Thirlmere, worst case - the skip.

I was chased from one end of the shed to the other, as wherever I set up my easel, I seemed to get in the way. I was hunting for a quiet corner as the situation brought out crankiness in normally laid back people. I was incessantly asked "why I was painting this rubbish instead of the trains", but most of the trains will still exist somewhere, while this sort of subject, evoking the true spirit of the workshop, is ephemeral.

But fashions change as to what is deemed 'necessary' and unique and quirky items can be lost or destroyed in the rush to impose order on chaos..

In the Large Erecting Shop the shadowboards are no longer functional as no repair or maintenance will be carried out there.

Ghost boards with ghost signs for ghost trains.

They show the never to be filled outlines of lost tools for lost purposes.

Headstones of the workshop.

More paintings of the Eveleigh Railway Workshops

Related Posts

Ghost Train

Ghost in the machine

Scar Tissue

Painting in the paint shop - The Green Room

The slow return from the fire

The fire within

Barangaroo - tabula rasa

Today's painting on the deck is a panorama painted on the East Darling Harbour Wharves. It includes 2 of my former studios - the Harbour Control Tower and Moore's Wharf.

The now demolished Harbour Control Tower dominates the empty wharf. A row of pink terraces perch on top of the golden sandstone escarpment
while the Sydney Harbour Bridge can be glimpsed behind Moore's Wharf, a handsome heritage sandstone building housing the Sydney Ports Corporation.

The cute little federation building on the left is a Federation era sewage pumping station. It has since been cleaned up and relocated.

BAR60 'Barangaroo north -
The Harbour Tower,
escarpment and Moore's Wharf 2'
2010 oil on canvas 38 x 76cm

This canvas was painted just after the wharves had been cleared of all their maritime infrastructure, and just before work began on the construction of the Barangaroo Headland Park that replaced it.
It shows a place in a state of limbo.
I've included a couple of photos of this and a couple of other canvases as works in progress, to show some of the process involved in their creation.
I had to lug a french box easel, paint, brushes, medium, canvases, a couple of tables, a chair, and my lunch, packed inside trolley luggage. After doing this for several decades, I've become quite fit and strong!

Plein air oil painting behind the barrier
on the East Darling Harbour Wharves
Showing this canvas as a work in progress
with my trolley luggage, table, chair, french box easel,
paints, brushes and other equipment.

Barangaroo is a paradox.
The area now known as Barangaroo was off limits to the public for over a hundred years but was the central core of Sydney's economy. Necessary, yet ignored ; in full view yet strangely invisible.

Now it is centre stage, hotly debated and fought over, yet still unknown to the vast majority of Sydney.
Once a despised slum - now prime waterfront. Only the fashion has changed...

BAR60 'Barangaroo north -
The Harbour Tower,
escarpment and Moore's Wharf 2'
2010 oil on canvas 38 x 76cm

It had a complex. fascinating multi-layered history but has been treated as though it is tabula rasa - a blank canvas for architects to impose their will upon.

Nearly 200 years of maritime heritage disappeared with barely a token gesture to its previous existence.

Related Posts

Eaten by Robots

Barangaroo - Red Square, the Drill Rig and a little Archaeology

Tie a yellow ribbon

The Last of the Hungry Mile

My exhibition at the Sydney Open

Oils ain't oils- Painting Still Life in the Eveleigh Railway Workshops

A still life typically depicts inanimate subject matter. 

It was initially despised as the most lowly form of painting. But every still life is a memento mori.
Memento mori is Latin for “Remember that you must die”.
I've delved into the long tradition of the ‘still life’ genre, which celebrates the magic power of painting an arrangement of commonplace objects to reflect on ideas of mortality.
When captured in paint, they are imbued with a life beyond the ordinary.

"Vanitas” elements reveal the emptiness of material pursuits and futility of earthly ambitions.  

The Latin noun Vanitas literally means “emptiness” and the central theme in these paintings is the Christian view of earthly life and the futility  & worthlessness of all ambition.

I love to paint “useless” things from industrial sites, the minutiae of everyday life. There's a poignant quality in this “rubbish”, so trivial to most. These remnants provide me with an endless source of subject matter. There are no people in these pictures but their presence is always felt. History, memory and observation provide the bones of the story.

E130A Oils ain't oils 1 2017 oil on canvas 10 x 10cm

Available for sale  

These rusty old oil cans from the interior of the Large Erecting Shop in the Eveleigh Railway Workshops truly are symbols of transience. They will be discarded and thrown into the skip bin as soon as I've finished my canvases. I've won them a stay of execution with my paintings.

E130B Oils ain't oils 2 2017 oil on canvas 10 x 10cm

Available for sale 

They contained the necessary ingredient to lubricate engines to keep them moving. Literally, to make something go. 

And they went.

Locomotives won't be repaired and maintained in the Large Erecting Shop for much longer. The best possible future for it will be as a running shed where only exactly what is strictly necessary to run trains will be tolerated. All else will be relocated at best, or discarded at worst. If it doesn't become a running shed, Mirvac and Channel 7 are lurking just outside to finish it off.

E130C Oils ain't oils 3 2017 oil on canvas 10 x 10cm

Available for sale   

Behind the oil cans was a board with inscriptions "1/2 Nuts", "5/8 Nuts", "3/4 Nuts","7/8 Nuts", which always made me laugh. You don't have to be totally nuts to work her, just half.

E132 Oils ain't oils 2 2017 oil on aluminium panel 51 x 51cm.

Available for sale 

I've concocted different methods for reproducing variety of surfaces  by experimenting with painting on metal panels.
This works well with the rusty cans - I leave the metal bare of paint and only paint in the rust.

This technique pays homage to the distant past.

When light rebounds from a matte surface, the irregularites of the surface scatter the light. However when light strikes a smooth polished surface such as metal there is a gleam, shimmer or lustre which can even reveal the shape of the original light source. Medieval students of optics called the depiction of reflected light in a painting "splendour". Light was not only regarded as beautiful, but also deemed to be sacred. This quality of light was difficult to reproduce in painting. Early medieval artists would rely on the inclusion of reflective and precious metals such as gold leaf, until the development of oil painting in the 15th century allowed artists like van Eyck the ability to create the illusion of reflection by superimposing thin translucent layers of colour. 

The workmen trained in the Eveleigh Railway Workshops were master manipulators of metal, so in these still life paintings I am using both these artistic traditions to capture every nuance of their lost tools.

Related Posts

Shadowboard

Ghost Train 

Revenant 

Nocturne - painting steam locomotive 3642

38's are great, mate 

Charge your battery 

Scar Tissue