Nature

and wildflowers that captivated me. It moves me still. I call it the spirit of Bribie. Later there was a barge service across Pumice stone passage. An old and battered World War ex-army barge operated by two deeply tanned men. After this, we came to Bribie in my Dad's old Willies Overland car. The vehicle had wooden spoked wheels and was started with a crank handle. We were always fearful that it would shake itself to pieces travelling along the rough dirt roads around Carseldine and Caboolture. Most nights to amuse ourselves we would play games. Cards, quoits or darts we loved. When bedtime came around, a large dish of water would be heated on the stove and with a bar of soap and a washcloth passed around the room for everyone to wash their feet so as not to dirty the bedsheets. With a candle in hand, we would all go upstairs to bed in army stretchers my uncle had found washed up on the beach, and with the soothing sound of the surf in our heads and the warm ocean scented breeze blowing over us through the open walls of the unfinished house, we

slept the sleep of the good child. Year’s later electricity came to Bribie, and the island was connected to the mainland by a toll bridge. We did not know ourselves with all the modern progress; cars filled the streets and spilled out onto the beaches. We had television, electric microwave ovens and street lighting. The stars in the sky dimmed then, and never shone as brightly again. My Aunt's house "Ocean Edge" finally got finished and now had walls and an indoor toilet, but was demolished in the 1980s to make way for progress. In 1973, I took this memorable

Zena Turner & Ian Fairweather Photo by Dale Marsh 1973

photo of my aunt Zena with Ian Fairweather at his hut.

IAN FAIRWEATHER PORTRAIT

Years passed and I grew to manhood. I continued to visit the old man Ian Fairweather. Each time I always bought him gifts. Camel cigarettes, his favourite, but he would never accept everything. Each time I was leaving, he would give them back to me. On one occasion, I found Ian in great distress. He had had a visit from the local building inspector who had declared that his homemade bark and sapling huts did not meet the building requirements laid down by the authorities and would have to be demolished. The council had offered to build him a small fibro cabin with electricity and running water, which I believe he had to pay for. "I won't live in it," he said with great dignity and firm conviction, but once the cabin was built, the old man did move in and even confided to me that he was more comfortable now. On another occasion, he was upset because he believed that some people in the Sydney and Melbourne art scene were forging his work and getting high prices for it. He showed me an advertisement in a glossy art magazine with a photo of a painting said to be an Ian Fairweather. "I

never painted that picture,"

he said, "It's a wonderful

painting, but I never painted

it". I agreed that it was an unethical and illegal thing to forge someone’s work, but in the back of my mind I couldn't help thinking that Fairweather was getting on in years, and it probably was indeed painted by him, maybe some time ago

and that he had probably just forgotten.

ART and LIFE

One year after I was married and living in Melbourne I drove up to Bribie around Christmas time. I was an enrolled art student at R.M.I.T. and working as an artist and model maker at the Museum of Applied Science. I unwisely took my wife to meet Fairweather. I should have known better. I had heard Ian did not like women very much, although my pallet before he changed his mind. Ian came out and sat on a form away from a ray of sunlight playing on the fibro wall. I suggested that he move into the sunlight so that I would have more light and shade to work with but he simply said, "The light will

be up here in a little while"

and stayed put. To fill in time while waiting for the light to arrive I started sketching in my book to familiarise myself with the forms I would be using. Finally, the light did arrive, and my subject looked great in it. I wanted to try to express the gentle and dignified character of the man, as I knew him. Working quickly but with accuracy, I got the main forms and shapes in as in underpainting, with some overpainting as well. This study combined with the sketches I had made would be enough information for me to produce the major work when I got back to my studio in Melbourne. I did not know it at the time, but that was the last time I was to see Ian Fairweather. About halfway through the major work in my mud brick studio at Warrandyte in Melbourne, I got the news that my old friend had passed away. It was a heavy loss. He was a great artist and an interesting man. I grieved for the loss of him. The portrait of Ian Fairweather was eventually finished, crated up, and sent off to Sydney where it hung in the Archibald Prize. It was later acquired by the Queensland Art Gallery.

MORE BRIBIE HISTORY

It has been a great pleasure for me to share these memories and images of Dale Marsh, and

Dale Marsh sketch of Ian Fairweather

to bring you this story about two internationally famous Bribie he loved a visit from his resident. Monthly meetings artist friend Margaret Olley. of the Historical Society are Fairweather was withdrawn on the second Wednesday of and uncommunicative for the each month in the ANZAC whole visit. I never did it again. room at the RSL Club. With I wanted to paint the old man's Covid restrictions numbers portrait. I even intended to are limited, so attendance enter it in the Archibald prize notification is required. so I turned up at the hut one With any questions, or morning with all my gear in information to share, please the car, and asked him if he contact us. You can see would mind sitting for a short many more photos and time for a quick portrait sketch. articles on our Blog Site at I expected him to say no, but http://bribieislandhistory. instead, he gave a gentle nod, blogspot.com or contact us on so I began setting up my pallet bribiehistoricalsociety@ gmail. and squeezing colour onto com ISSUE 121 Aug 28 2020 39