Looking at the works assembled by Deutscher and Hackett for their auction on 28 August, among the highlights were three small sculptures by Bertram Mackennal – Circe (c.1902-04), Truth (1894) and Salome (1897). Although not much talked about today, Mackennal (1863-1931), may well be the most internationally successful Australian artist of all time. This was the verdict when he was celebrated in a long-overdue retrospective at the Art Gallery of NSW in 2007.
When a life-size bronze of Circe won a mention honorable at the Paris Salon of 1893 it established the sculptor’s reputation. The smaller versions, such as the one in the D & H auction were made to satisfy a clamouring market, as Mackennal became one of the most prominent sculptors in Great Britain. When he returned to Australia in his later years he was given the rock star treatment.
I’m not going to turn this newsletter into an art history lesson, but it’s worthwhile remembering how important Mackennal was, when we realise that these three sculptures have been deaccessioned from the permanent collection of the McClelland Sculpture Park and Gallery, along with paintings by Rupert Bunny, Emanuel Phillips Fox, Clarice Beckett, and a small picture by Fred McCubbin. But why?
The explanation given in a brief text in the catalogue, written by the McClelland’s Executive and Artistic Director, Lisa Byrne, is worth quoting:
In 2024, the McClelland Trustees reemphasised the collection’s representation of the home of Australian sculpture and broadened their understanding of landscape, nature, and spatial practice. Importantly, this includes the perspectives and cultural practices of the longest living culture on earth, that of Australian Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people. This aligns with the expanded role that the museum occupies in the 21st century; it is no longer solely about the preservation and exhibition of objects, but has evolved into a place of social exchange, a meeting point for diverse groups and cultures, and a forum for discourse about culture, vitality, and sustainability. McClelland’s collection focus will be on modern and contemporary sculpture and spatial practice relevant to its original mandate of ‘art and nature’ by Australian artists, amplifying the diverse cultural experiences of Australia’s past and present.
If I’m reading this correctly, a new focus on “modern and contemporary sculpture and spatial practice” – whatever that is – is the reason these works are being sold off. All the waffle about Aboriginal culture suggests there will be an emphasis on collecting Indigenous work, while the idea that one of the major roles of a public gallery may be “the preservation and exhibition of objects” is brusquely dismissed. The new identity for the gallery is “a place of social exchange, a meeting point for diverse groups and cultures, and a forum for discourse about culture, vitality, and sustainability.”
These are exactly the kind of shallow, rhetorical constructions that are being used to justify the ongoing destruction of the Powerhouse Museum in Sydney. Ms. Byrne, like her Sydney counterpart, Ms. Havilah, is contemptuous of history, and dismissive of the museum’s collecting role. Their grand new vision of the 21stcentury museum is a glorified social club, where politically correct sentiments may be exchanged. Instead of squandering money on historical works for the collection, funds may be handed over to those living arty types judged worthy by the directors.
Aboriginal art and culture is falsely positioned as being in conflict with the work of historically important white artists. Past wrongs must be set right! The latter must go so the former may thrive.
This is not only absurd, it is morally bankrupt, intellectually dishonest and holds huge dangers for the future of Australia’s public collections. Ms. Byrne’s explanatory text is also notable for a preface explaining the history of the McClelland Gallery and the vision of its founders and supporters, from Nan and Harry McClelland to Dame Elizabeth Murdoch (AKA. The Murdoch everybody liked). It’s hard to believe anyone could read this and not feel these supporters would be angered and horrified by the sell-off. When works are gifted to a public gallery, the donor obviously expects them to be held in perpetuity, not flogged off when the latest group of caretakers need extra cash for their “spatial practice”.
Looking more closely at the provenance of the Mackennals, one finds that Salome was acquired from Jean Campbell in 1992, while Circe and Truth were bought from an earlier Deutscher & Hackett auction as late as September 2010. This means that roughly one generation ago, those in charge of the McClelland collection felt it was important to have these pieces by Mackennal to flesh out the history of Australian sculpture. The money for Truth is listed as coming from the Dame Elizabeth Murdoch Sculpture Fund.
Less than 14 years later these same works are being dumped by a director and trustees who obviously couldn’t care less about the history of sculpture in Australia, or whether the McClelland should have a representative collection.
The problem with most attempts at deaccessioning is that the works a museum truly wants to get rid of, are not wanted by anybody else. To raise serious money one must make severe sacrifices, as the Whitney Museum in New York has done, by selling off works by artists such as Mark Rothko and Edward Hopper, reasoning that they are already adequately represented in the collection.
What Ms. Byrne and co. have done is jettison unique and valuable works by wellknown artists. If I’m to believe the gallery’s website, these are – or were – the only works by Bunny, Mackennal, Phillips Fox, Beckett and McCubbin in the collection. They are selling off their slice of Australian art history to pay for the dubious delights of the contemporary scene. It’s staggering to see the cavalier way they are treating the gallery’s heritage, and the legacy of those patrons who have donated works. After this, no-one should ever see the McClelland as a trustworthy place to leave a bequest. If the administration can sell off works by important Australian artists with no scruples whatsoever, nothing is safe, nothing is sacred.
This contempt for history and for the role of the museum is a trend that needs to be reversed, and the vandals held accountable. We should be offended by the sheer arrogance and disrespect involved in putting oneself above the wishes of the museum’s founders and patrons. Such institutions rely heavily on the good will of friends and supporters, and this is a great way to alienate them. Rise up, art patrons of Australia, your museums are being trashed!
A man who really understands the power of history and the undying appeal of the object, is Hiroshi Sugimoto, and his survey, Time Machine, at the Museum of Contemporary Art, is a highlight of the year. Now in his 70s, Sugimoto has worked his way through one photographic series after another, acting as both artist and philosopher. He is a conceptual artist with a profound respect for ye olde qualities such as skill and craftsmanship. His fascination with history draws his thoughts back to the very “dawn of consciousness”. The MCA have been waiting a long time for a hit, and they’ve got one here.
The movie being reviewed is Zoë Kravitz’s directorial debut, Blink Twice. It’s a highly watchable variation on that old tale of a group of people isolated on an island where things descend into chaos. In this case, the heroine is a party girl, and the party is high-end luxury, but when the inevitable happens and things go wrong, they really go wrong. I’m beginning to think it’s time someone made a horror movie about the agonies being inflicted on Australian museums.