THE FULL MELODY

THE FULL MELODY

Many years have passed since the late 1970s when I first worked as an arts public servant, at that time at the Crafts Council of NSW. Now it’s time to take an interruption, a rest, because the audience needs a break from me, my needs and demands, and my creations and concepts. For the moment, this is my last idea and adventure accompanied by a catalogue essay.

As part of a going away event I approached many, perhaps too many, artists to take part in a final exhibition curated by me in my public role at Maitland. Titled The piano has been drinking (not me), it was to be an exhibition constructed from artists’ responses on and with paper to the lyrics of this celebrated Tom Waits’ song. The result is stupendous and very much more than expected. More artists than I ever possibly anticipated responded to my request and did so in a myriad of very unique and positive artistic styles.

Like a bird I went in search of seed to feed on and my search yielded a bounty of sustenance that was delivered, carried and submitted ready to photograph and hang in the art gallery. Nothing was inappropriate or thoughtless: all the participants joined the piano’s tune and played merrily along with Tom Waits, joining in and creating a cacophony of style and colour with paper. I am struck by the exactness, confused by the abstraction, touched by the witticism, and moved in time to the music and the artists’ interactions with sound.

As curator I was indulgent and not really formulaic and they, the artists were exuberant, solicitous and created art that is diligently relevant and all-encompassing in spirit. I had once again gone begging, asking, almost demanding assistance in gratis and they, the artists, responded with unbridled and rewarding submissions, willing to assist one more time, perhaps hoping that this really is the last Eisenberg request. Who knows? I have scribbled that this is the last time, too many times, too frequently.

My request went out. A steady stream began to more than trickle its way to Maitland in the form of art on paper together with an agreement that, at the end of the exhibition, the art gallery could keep the works for its permanent works on paper collection. All this was requested and accepted but the avalanche was not. Little did I expect that more would arrive and continue to arrive. Very few declined, forgot or lost the request.

I am lucky and so is the art gallery. I was rewarded and it is a wondrous privilege, one that will not be easily or readily repeated. I was briefly gnawed by vanity: egoism is an easy friend, a ready accomplice, always prepared to chomp a slice let alone chew a chunk. However, common sense soon took over and I realised that the artists were once again demonstrating their often taken for granted largesse and generosity. I had also forgotten, momentarily, that the exhibition had legs and ones that stood firmly on curatorial correctness and strength. Here was an opportunity to be part of a unique exhibition.

I trust that many of the artists responded positively to my request to make art employing paper because they could see a worthy rationale in The piano has been drinking (not me). Here was a proposal to join with many fellow contemporary compatriots and create an exhibition that could demonstrate paper at its current best. And, indeed, that is what this exhibition reveals and exhibits: artists showing

that given an idea and freedom (bound only by being a work on paper and size!) they validate their skills, dexterity, creativity and long established knowledge by creating art at its paramount.

So many artists and such a plethora of uniqueness with very little that can count as similar, analogous or even akin in process, idea or practice. The exhibition demonstrates that there are many Australian artists who can think modestly but deliver with great authority and enjoyment while producing novel and intelligent reactions to poetic words. Waits’ The piano has been drinking (not me) inspiring a drawing, photograph or print becomes a statement that captures the full melody, grittiness and tone in paper, unmatched and in rewarding visual and visionary ways.

Some of the artists I have known for a long time, others I have befriended more recently and in the Hunter. All have treated the project with veracity and reacted in genuineness to The piano has been drinking (not me).

Perhaps it is time to say good night as it seems I can no longer gauge artists’ reactions to the Eisenberg schemes. Here I knew was a good plan and an intriguing, personal curatorial conceit but the success still astounds and startles me!

I began my public service arts career at the Crafts Council of NSW and finish now at Maitland Regional Art Gallery. Over the years many, many fellow staff members and volunteers, as well as artists and benefactors, made it all possible for me, just as The piano has been drinking (not me) demonstrates. I find myself, again, oh so happy, thankful and grateful. I thank everyone who has been entangled in The piano has been drinking (not me) in whatever way including the menial, the secretarial, the practical, the cerebral, the artistic, the financial and the more academic. You have all supported and carried me on your shoulders. Again, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Finally, none of what I have achieved could have been done without Janis, my partner in life. She has read and corrected and even advised on tracts, essays and catalogues that I have written and planned, and perhaps even thought about, for the public to enjoy. Thank you so, so much!

by Joe Eisenberg Cultural Director

(right) Euan Macleod, Dark figures in smoke, 2014 open-bite etching and aquatint on paper, 100 x 50 cm donated under the Australian Government’s Cultural Gifts program by Pat Corrigan AM, 2015

(above) Mitch Storck, Tickle the ivories, 2014 ink on paper, 59.5 x 42 cm gift of the artist