Albert Tucker (1914-1999)

Obituary: Albert Tucker (1914-1999)
Artist of a turbulent epoch dies

By John Christian, 8 January 2000

The death of Albert Tucker last October at the age of 84 closes another chapter in the history of 20th century Australian Expressionist painting. A key figure in Australia's contemporary art scene in the early post-World War II years, Tucker's stark imagery and raw psychological themes were angry explorations of the social tragedies that he witnessed in his early life. Like his contemporaries—Arthur Boyd, Sidney Nolan and John Perceval—Tucker's artistic and social awakening took place during the Depression and World War II. His strongest and most significant works were produced in response to the barbarism of the war.

Born in Melbourne, the son of a railway worker, Tucker was a self-taught and intuitive artist who was forced to leave school at 15 years of age and take on a variety of jobs in order to support his family. Like thousands of others during this time, Tucker moved from one low-paid demeaning job to another in order to survive.

Determined to become a painter, Tucker, who had no formal training, turned to the only resources that he knew—the Arts Room at the Melbourne public library and figure drawing classes held three nights a week at the Victorian Artists Society. He spent hours studying art reproductions at the library and attended the classes for seven years, honing and refining his drafting skills throughout the 1930s. He was deeply influenced by Modigliani, Van Gogh and Cézanne as well as European Expressionist painters such as George Grosz, Otto Dix and Max Beckmann.

In the late thirties Tucker met two young European artists who had recently immigrated to Australia—Josl Bergner, a Jewish refugee from Poland and Danila Vassilieff, a Russian painter. These artists and their unsettling depictions of the anguish of the most oppressed elements of Australian society had a strong impact on Tucker, who soon began to investigate and reproduce in artistic form the trauma, insecurity and anxiety produced by the Depression and the war.

In a recent interview Tucker explained how the Depression impacted on him: "In 1929, the year of the stock market crash, I was 15 and starting a life where we ate badly, paid the rent and had nothing left... I remember feeling confused and almost floating in a void, about to be consumed by vast, hostile forces... All I remember is blankness, anxiety, fear and desperation. This dominated an entire period."

Like many other artists and writers of his generation struggling to understand the tumultuous period in which they lived, Tucker was attracted to, and briefly joined, the Stalinist Communist Party of Australia (CPA).

The young artist, however, soon came into conflict with the party and its endorsement of Socialist Realism. The CPA insisted artists and intellectuals participate in the creation of a "new nationalism" and, after the outbreak of WWII, to uncritically promote the Allied war effort.
As Tucker later said: "I quickly found that their [the CPA's] attitude to art was totally different to mine. They were trying to turn the artist into an illustrator for political concepts and that was simply just not on."

In 1940 Tucker was called up for army service and spent some months working as a draftsman at the Heidelberg Military Hospital, where he also drew patients suffering from dreadful wounds or mental illnesses produced by the war.

Man at table (1940), his horrifying pen-and-ink illustration of a man whose nose had been sliced off by a shell fragment; The waste land (1941) with its image of death sitting on a stool watching and waiting; and Floating figures (1942), a pastel and pencil sketch of two figures floating down a hallway and another in the foreground with a demented smile, all explore the consequences of the war.

Tucker's work at this time is strongly reminiscent of Mental Cases, Wilfred Owen's disturbing poem about shell-shocked WWI soldiers.

Therefore still their eyeballs shrink tormented
Back into their brains, because on their sense
Sunlight seems a blood-smear; night comes blood-black;
Dawn breaks open like a wound that bleeds afresh.

In 1943 Tucker painted Victory girl, a surreal and highly emotional picture of a debauched young girl welcoming visiting troops. The girl is wearing the stars and stripes as a dress, her lips are covered with a bawdy red lipstick, whilst towering behind her is a hideous face, its teeth barred. This work became the centrepiece of a series of paintings— Images of Modern Evil —containing themes that the artist returned to again and again during the post-war period.

Tucker's determination to artistically investigate the physical horrors and distorted social relations produced by the war was anathema to the CPA and its promotion of the war effort. This, combined with his involvement in the Angry Penguins, a loose association of liberal artists, writers and intellectuals opposed to Socialist Realism made Tucker a target for the CPA's verbal attacks. According to the CPA, Tucker's expressionist painting was "arrogant mysticism".

Writing in the September 1944 Communist Review, Noel Counihan, a CPA member and artist claimed Tucker's work "reflected the panic of those elements in the middle and upper classes who are terrified at the enormity of the war and the necessity of sacrifice." Tucker's painting, according to Counihan, led directly to "demoralisation, pacificism, defeatism, "whose end "can only be in fascism."

While it is not clear whether Tucker, who never claimed to be a Marxist, attempted to understand the political roots of Socialist Realism, he refused to be swayed by these ludicrous allegations and continued to explore the themes first presented in Images of Modern Evil —the corruption and dehumanisation produced by the war and the commodification of sex and other human activities.

The immediate post-war period, however, did not bring tranquillity to Tucker's artistic vision. In fact, his paintings still contained many of the disturbing characteristics inherent in his wartime work. He regarded much of what he saw in the post-war period with great anxiety, a world where human relations seemed irreparably damaged.

In 1947, Tucker traveled to Japan where he produced Hiroshima, a pen drawing in black, grey and white of the city demolished by the atomic blast. This drawing, in my opinion one of Tucker's best, is of a sombre landscape; there are no figures visible, just flimsy houses, tents and other shelters. After this trip and the breakup of his first marriage to fellow artist Joy Hester, Tucker travelled to Paris where he lived for a year in a caravan on the banks of the Seine. He later moved to Germany and then Italy where he lived for three years. After several exhibitions in Europe during the 1950s, Tucker travelled to New York where he lived and worked for several years. His work was exhibited in private exhibitions, with some paintings purchased by the Museum of Modern Art and the Guggenheim Museum.

In 1960 Tucker returned to Australia for what was to be a temporary visit. Struck by the changes to metropolitan Melbourne and the visual beauty of the rugged bushland he decided to stay.

Although many of the paintings he produced in the 1960s and 70s lacked the vision of his previous work, Tucker still retained his unique ability to develop semi-abstract icons that somehow captured the spirit of the location or the essence of the individuals portrayed. His restless examination of shapes and forms, his use of disjointed animals or human heads with fractured or sometimes deeply gouged faces was constant. Some of the more memorable paintings from this period, such as Wounded Landscape, Wounded Head, Assassins, Armoured Figure and Solitary Figure examine bewilderment, tragedy and death.

In 1995 Tucker told a journalist that the anguished despair that always recurred in his paintings was connected to his attempt to understand the concept of freedom. "If you've got a mouse in a box, the mouse is free within the box; but he is never free because the box contains him. He's both free and imprisoned at the same time. I feel this way about us. I suppose a painting is my own private battlefield where I am still in the process of exorcising my own demons."

Albert Tucker, who continued working throughout the last years of his life, refused to accept much of the complacency generated by the post-war boom. Throughout his 70-year artistic career, Tucker constantly demanded of himself and all those who had the opportunity to study his work that they look beyond the prevailing social conventions and attempt to find, via an investigation of the darker side of humanity's inner soul, the moral and psychological foundations for a more humane society.

John Christian, 8 January 2000

TUCKER - AUSTRALIAN GOTHIC: Selections from the Albert and Barbara Tucker Gift to Heide
Venue: S. H. Ervin Gallery, Watson Road, Observatory Hill, The Rocks

"Melbourne-based Albert Tucker mythologised the social realities of 1940's. There are psychological portraits, 1950's Parisian vignettes, 1930's Melbourne scenes and Tucker's celebrated Images of Modern Evil cycle in wartime Melbourne". From the S. H. Ervin Gallery program.

Albert Tucker wrote the following to his friends and benefactors - John and Sunday Reed, London - 24th December 1947: "I've been round to most of the good galleries with my stuff and this is a consensus of reactions - Lefevre Gallery (MacDonald), 'We don't like any form of Surrealism or Expressionism. We don't like anything Germanic'. London Art Gallery (Melville), 'Strange, very strange. We have a very full programme. Not the type of stuff we can handle'. Redfern Gallery, 'Wouldn't have expected that from Australia. But I don't think it would sell here. Try two or three in our mixed show next summer'. Mayer of Mayer Galleries (the most direct and intelligent), 'Well that's excellent. Far, far better than I expected. But you won't sell any in this country. Take it to Paris, Brussels - or America - you'll find a market there'. Which voiced the opinion I had been coming to myself. Art here is big business. Highly specialised marketing of a highly specialised product. First thing from Melville down is Will it Sell? Aesthetic appraisal last. Tossed in cynically as though it were something entirely outside the whole process of painting, exhibiting and selling. Come to us with a selling reputation but don't expect us to help you make one. But the main thing for me is that the spirit of my work is outside the English temper".

Well, things haven't changed much in the art world - except that now Tucker and the "club" - Boyd and Nolan - are the artists commanding the big bucks through past reputation and fashion at art galleries throughout Australia, and indeed, worldwide. After visiting the Albert Tucker exhibition, I had come to the conclusion that if this is art, and if it keeps escalating in interest and therefore selling price, the art world is still doomed. Seems that art is truly an individual taste, as the Cultural Attache for Australia (Sir Les Patterson) once pointed out, when asked about his stance on art: "Art? ……. Love it".

The exhibition features a wide selection of Tucker's work, gothic and surreal, using oils, acrylics, watercolour, brush and ink on paper, gouache, pencil, conte crayon and other assorted media. Tucker has quite a few self-portraits in this exhibition, in various styles spanning various stages of his life. Two of the most impressive pieces displayed are his Self Portraits 1983 and 1985. Perhaps by this stage of his life he had settled down a little and discovered nuances of form and rhythm. Other portraits (one ghastly one of a clown) were quite "yukky" - using this term depicts the writer's close association with that of a child, given lots-a-paints and being told by the parent "just have a little play around, daddy will be here to pick us up soon….." A young child, I might add, one step up from finger painting.
"Great Questions of our Time: 4. Will a painting that looks like something from real life ever be called art again?" - THE AGE, 29th December, 1993.

If you were to view this collection of Tucker's work you may think not, and you may well leave the gallery as I did, despondent and wondering why Australian society, at that time, and even now, still embrace these pieces (I include other members of the boys club - the Nolan's, Boyd's and Tucker's) so reverently. Was it fashionable to have our own "home grown" surrealists, no matter what level of talent, to compete with the Miros, the Picassos et all? Reading the letters (displayed on the gallery wall alongside Tucker's work) you can read what Tucker was on about back in his "formative" years. Very interesting too, actually, combined with the selection of gelatin silver photographs of Tucker and his life, depicting various places, times, people, situations and environment. This, alone, is worth the $6 entry fee to see the showing.

One letter reveals the way he related to Nolan as the landscape artist, but how he, himself, was steeped in more "dark and deathly" pursuits. No wonder.

Tucker admits, in a letter to "Sid", that he thought "Pablo" might be a "hard bugger to beat", and how he was bored with Matisse, admitting that "only one of his canvases satisfied" him. Seeing this collection of work, through his life, the photos, the letters - a sort of Tucker time capsule - all I can construe is that Tucker liked the romance of being an artist swanning around Paris, rather than putting the same effort into his work. He writes to Nolan, admitting that "we would fit right in hanging on the walls in the galleries of Paris". Tucker, who seems to be a tad self-obsessed, reveals no feeling for his environment. Other surrealists had draftsmanship to fall back on, however Tucker seems to lack this finesse, or ability to absorb you into his work. Famous, yes, artistic? I think not.
The Tucker/Boyd/Nolan club have dominated Australian art for too long - their paintings are now commodities rather than paintings you would love to have hanging in your home, for the sheer pleasure they would bring. This form of art is an investment, naturally, money in the bank. You only have to take a look at what's happening now, son-of-Boyd, by virtue of his name, also commanding big bucks for what is tantamount to rejects from the Sands Greeting Card collection. Thank heavens I didn't leave the "quest for art - the Sunday day out" at the Tucker exhibition.
Marika Bryant

Albert Tucker (1914-1999)

Tucker's art dealer and friend said of one series of his works, that he dealt not in prettiness, but unsettling truths. The same could be applied to most of his life's work. Throughout his lifetime, Albert Tucker's work represents a reactive response to the issues and the environment surrounding him. Often difficult and abrasive, the work reflects the artists struggle to come to terms with a society he was at odds with, with whom he did not share a moral ground.

Born 1914, during the depression, Tucker was the youngest of three children. His family background appears to have very little relevance to his career as an artist except for an uncle on his mother's side who allowed the children to experiment with his paints. Tucker left school in 1929 at 14 years of age, wining a scholarship to a commercial art school, which provided his income through the depression. Unable to afford art school he was determined to train himself and from 1933 -1939 attended the Victorian Art Society's life drawing classes where his first works were exhibited. Even at this point of his career, Tucker looked upon his passion as a hobby. It wasn't until meeting of Russian born artist Danila Vassilieff who arrived in Melbourne in 1937, and Jewish refugee painter, Yosl Bergner in 1938 that inspired Tucker to believe that despite his background, his poverty and he could also make a career out of his work.

He set about making his own paints, always experimenting. Though influenced by surrealism and expressionism movement prevalent in the 40s, he was not bound by rules. Outstanding amongst his peers, noticed by teachers at the Art Society, he soon gained the attention of Herald Art Critic - Basil Burdett and other powerbrokers of the Melbourne art world.

It was at this point that his talent was spotted by Sunday and John Reed, and his involvement with the Heide homestead and his association Sidney Nolan, Arthur Boyd and other major figures of a generation of Melbourne artists began. Part of this esteemed group was fellow artist Joy Hester, who became his wife. Under the patronage of the Reeds, Tucker was encouraged and supported.
Feeling for the first time, despite the differences of ideologies and beliefs, very much a part of a like-minded group. Tucker also wrote for the publication, Angry Penguins, 1941-1946, edited by Max Harris and John Reed. It existed in Melbourne as the principal outlet for the expression of avant-garde ideas. In 1942, Tucker enlisted in the Army and was sent to Wangaratta training camp, where he was asked to sketch medical diagrams. He was then drafted to Heidelberg Military Hospital, where he was required to draw the wounds of the of patients. These 'scenes of horror' surface in his works, Explorers and Antipodean Heads. In 1942, Tucker was discharged from the army, returning to a Melbourne he did not recognise and did not like.

The scenes he took in of Melbourne, and especially of Melbourne night life gave rise to the Images of Modern Evil series, 1943-1947. A city, which he felt, demonstrated a total collapse of simple morality. He described his feelings of shock and outrage, particularly to see schoolgirls trotting home from school only to reappear donned in miniskirts made out of Union Jacks and American flags heading off for a wild night in St Kilda. His works depicting scenes of drunken Australian and American soldiers and the 'victory skirts' of the women.

In 1947, Tucker left Australia for Japan as an art correspondent attached to Australian Army, required to draw the devastation he saw there. It was on his return to Australia, that he separated from Joy Hester. Hester, who had a son, Sweeney in 1945, was shortly married. It was with a certain amount of bitterness that Tucker left for Europe in September of 1947. He was to spend the next thirteen years away from Australia.

Tucker spent 1947 till 1958 in England and Europe; the stay giving rise to a fresh new series of monstrous prostitutes and troubled religious paintings. His arrival in New York in 1958 saw a switch in his work from city to outback. Just over a decade away from Australia at this time, Tucker was homesick but still disgusted by the society he had left behind. At this time works of Sidney Nolan and Russel Drysdale had drawn international critical attention with various scenes of the Australian bush. Tucker rejected what he saw as nationalistic landscape painting. He depicted the outback as a harsh and sterile wasteland, overturning stereotypes of heroic convict and exploration tales. His Kelly Gang works and his Explorers series with their harsh colours and distorted features, depict an outback that is completely inhospitable.

The work Burke and Wills from this series was the second of his works to be included in the collection of the New York Museum of Modern Art, the first being Luna Landscape that gained him international recognition. The purchase of Antipodean Head that same year was the first Australian work to be acquired by Guggenheim Museum. In 1960, Tucker received the Kurt Geiger Award from the Museum of Modern Art, Australia, that payed for him to return to Australia for a retrospective of his work at Melbourne's Museum of Modern Art.

He had finally started to see financial reward for his success. On return to Melbourne, he had reconciled with the country of his birth and endeavoured to use his success and knowledge to encourage the Australian Art scene both culturally and in regard to the way business of promoting and selling artwork was conducted. He took over presidency of the Contemporary Art Society, and was instrumental in getting public galleries to exhibit the more radical work of the 1940's. In 1964 he married Barbara Bilcock whom he had met in 1962.

During the next decade he was to face many personal traumas and hardships. His had on his return to Australia, formed a strong relationship with Sweeney, who had been adopted by the Reeds. Sweeney committed suicide in 1979 with the Reeds passing away within a week of each other a couple of years later. At this point he realised that many of the people who had influenced and changed his life had passed on, (his first wife Joy Hester had died in 1960). He was motivated to capture them on a medium that would immortalise them. The result was the series Faces I have met that became a publication of that title in 1986. This series, featuring many of the Heide circle, represent Tucker's shift away from the focus on Australian myth fauna and landscape and variations on themes of the Antipodean head, that dominated his work on his return from New York.

A prolific reader, an intellect interested in all areas of art and culture, Albert Tucker played a major role in igniting international interest in the Australian Art Scene and fostering art culture within Australia. For a man who simply wanted to catch people in the act of life, he surely succeeded.

Amanda Ladds