The Archibald Prize: If not the best then pretty close

Dominic Dirupo
Jul 30, 2017 · 5 min read

Another year, another Archibald. The prize given out by the Art Gallery of New South Wales for ‘best portrait’. This year’s winner is Mitch Cairns for his portrait of Agatha Goethe-Snape. There are also other prizes, the Wynne (landscape — won this year by Betty Kuntiwa Pumani) and Sulman (other stuff — won by Joan Ross). These are often more interesting with the Wynne this year an absolute humdinger, but really the Archibald is the only game in town.

Antara by Betty Kuntiwa Pumani — Winner of the Wynne Prize 2017

The ‘Best’?

Before reflecting on the winning portrait itself, let’s have a quick dive into the merits of selecting the best portrait.

I work in finance and we are generally not allowed to use the word ‘best’. We can say that something has a number of advantages that contribute to its winning formula, or that the elements at play can combine to position it ahead of the competition. These are roundabout ways of saying something is great without saying it is the best, as the best is always subjective.

Like all art portraiture is subjective. There is no portrait that is naturally superior to another. That said, there may be certain styles which are over-represented, bland, simplistic, naïve or some other derogatory term that may marginalise one work over another in the eyes of the judging panel.

Each judge has their own preferences, opinions, tastes. Unlike a general member of the public who will gravitate towards a portrait because they ‘like’ it, a judge is embedded into the art industry. They may evaluate the painting as part of the artist’s whole body of work, their trajectory, and a host of other soft, nebulous reasons that have no bearing on whether one painting is better than another.

Speaking of the public, the fame of the figure is often a deciding factor for them and how much it ‘looks’ like them. Is likeness even relevant in portraiture? In many respects the most relevant feature is if the work comes ‘alive’. That the sum of brush strokes is greater than its parts.

There has been a bit of trend recently (in Australia at least) towards photo-realism. The laborious attempt of millions of micro-strokes to create a work that looks exactly like the figure. But what is really the point of that? To create a human photocopier. There is no correlation (to me, at least) between realism and the ability to capture the character of the subject. For me, the more impressionistic, the more interesting.

Many of the entrants are not portrait painters by design and attempt to fit their practice into a portraiture style. Sometimes their style helps the work come alive. For me, this is the case of this year’s winner.

Agatha Goethe-Snape by Mitch Cairns

So, to the winner. I haven’t had the opportunity to see the painting in the flesh so the online version is no real substitute, but in today’s world it is more than likely that 90% of the audience for this painting has been online or in the newspaper.

Agatha Goethe-Snape by Mitch Cairns — Winner of the Archibald Prize 2017

The subject, Agatha Goethe-Snape, is interesting as it is his long-term partner and a fellow artist. In a way when you have known someone for more than ten years I imagine it would be challenging to paint them with fresh eyes. Each feature is etched into memory, their current self and their past self. Waking up and going to bed with them every day. Seeing them ecstatic, angry, annoyed or overjoyed. So how does someone who is so familiar create a painting that is alive and fresh? The style here is crucial I think. It is a vivid, dynamic, colourful painting where the lack of features become a plus.

The composition is interesting to me in several ways. First her bare feet. It’s not often you see this and suggests an intimacy. Then the curve of the head from the ear through the neckline arches in a way that is not really possible. Her chest is sideways and legs crossed. The whole pose seems like an affectation. I had originally thought the pose to be quite loving but as time goes on it seems to me the pose becomes more contrived. The left hand under the chin, the red lipstick, the tilted head, the quasi-pout. It’s almost as if the subject is challenging the painter to make her more interesting. “You are a painter, do something great!!” The ring on the necklace is suggestive that there is a tension between artist and painter. “You’re on the chopping block, pal. And the blood spilled will be as red as the room we’re in.”

The artist though is the one who can respond with their style. With dark eyes and a green nose, what is the artist trying to say? Is it the green nose of envy, from one artist to another? “No matter how contorted and unnatural you try to be I can make you ethereal, sensual and beautiful. I am a great artist!”

To make the subject stand out more, she sits on a rug in a sparse red lounge room. I wonder if the red is real or a device?

The open window and tree, the table and plant. There is a flow between the inside and outside that combine to provide depth in an otherwise flat image. As I stare, the table is also like the old Rubin Vase illusion with two faces. Here, the table join is so slight the faces are practically kissing.

The perspective is interesting in the sense that she is sat on a rug on the floor, but given the lack of space between her and the window it’s as if she is floating on a magic carpet. Perhaps that then speaks to the subject as a seductive 1,001 Nights romantic figure. The ripples of the rug suggest it is floating on air.

The more I look at the painting the more I find. This is usually a characteristic of great work. Whether it is the best portrait that’s not my business and in a sense that just exists to create a bit of drama. There are hidden depths that get further unlocked the more you look at it. I anticipate having more revealed when I get to see it in real life. Whenever that may be.

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