Idyllic Island Life: My Family and Other Animals

My Family and Other Animals by Gerald Durrell

Penguin Books

Pp.308

A generation of readers was introduced to this marvellous family and the island of Corfu through the school curriculum. It is ingrained in the childhood of many and to return to it as an adult is refreshing and fascinating. The recent TV series starring Keeley Hawes as Mother has fuelled a new interest and it is actually quite hard to separate the books from their screen interpretations, as they have been done so sensitively and affectionately. The opening sentence sets forth to manage our expectations;

“This is the story of a five-year sojourn that I and my family made on the Greek island of Corfu. It was originally intended to be a mildly nostalgic account of the natural history of the island, but I made a grave mistake by introducing my family into the book in the first few pages. Having got themselves on paper, they then proceeded to establish themselves and invite various friends to share the chapters. It was only with the greatest difficulty, and considerable cunning, that I managed to retain a few pages here and there which I could devote exclusively to animals.”

The memoir is narrated by Gerry, the youngest of four children. The other members of the family are Larry, the eldest, and also known as famous published author, Lawrence Durrell, Leslie, who seems to like shooting things, and Margo, who wants nothing more than to get a tan. They are guided, after a fashion, by Mother, to whom the book is dedicated. It was either a bold or a foolhardy move to decamp to a Greek island in the 1930s (the TV series suggest alcoholism and impecuniousness were involved), but with hindsight, Gerry’s affection for his mother and her management of the menagerie is clear.

The family are loud and boisterous, with confidence that would be arrogance if it weren’t so kindly transcribed. Mother is aware that Gerry desperately needs an education; he explains that as a child his English and maths are woeful and the only words he can spell correctly are biological ones. He captures his dealings with his family with a child’s interest, providing light humour and insight. The direct style mixes the monumental with the banal. The family move house a few times (including the first great shift) and each time Larry suggests it; mother rejects it: “We are not moving to another villa, I’ve made up my mind about that”. The next chapter then begins with the move: “The new villa was enormous”. 

They have parties where the animals terrorise the guests (there are scorpions in matchboxes and snakes in the bath) and The Durrells think nothing is untoward. The family seem to get ‘caught up’ in the island rituals rather more by accident than design, while Gerry visits the islanders, who all think the English are odd, but refer to him (apparently affectionately) as “the little lord”. There is a lot of stereotypical sexist peasant behaviour that is considered acceptable, and his views are vaguely racist.

Gerry is interested in little other than animals, and there are lots in the book, as suggested by the title, but not as many as I had remembered. There are far more insects, and plenty of anthropomorphising. He gets a little carried away with describing the seasons in a manner that is not strictly scientific, adding to the overall whimsy. He can be forgiven, however, for the book itself has a wonderfully soporific effect. When he writes of languid afternoon swims, sunny siestas on the veranda and afternoon teas that leave the guests pleasantly replete, it is with precision and nostalgia. Who wouldn’t want to be there? 

The author evokes a wonderful feeling of a time and place, which could never be replicated. Because this is the memory of a child, it may never even have existed, but, whether returning to this book or encountering it for the first time, the reader feels the comfort of coming home.

COVID-19 Friday Five: Sometimes When we Touch

Chester and me

Touch is natural. It is healing. It is how we calm, reassure and express our affection. For the people who like to hug, this has been a tough few months. Even for those who don't, we have had to modify our behaviour and attempt to alter our instincts. Thank goodness we are still allowed to pet animals and cuddle the cat.

A couple of weeks ago I was out walking when I came across a woman who had sprained her ankle. Others were with her, assisting, and we stopped to check she was okay. Someone was crouching beside her, placing their arm around her shoulders in a universal gesture of support.  She and her walking companion had a phone between them them and they were able to call for help.

The first responder on the phone was asking lots of questions and giving medical advice (they were on speaker-phone so we could all hear) and at the end of the call the person stated that they had to ask some COVID-19 questions and began to ask whether the patient had recently been overseas or come into contact with anyone who had, or had symptoms or had been in contact with anyone who had symptoms. 

At that moment, the assistant looked shocked - "I hadn't even thought of that" he said. Of course not, because as a decent human being, our first reaction when we come across an injured person (or animal) is to help. And that help often expresses itself through contact. It's who we are. And, while the current medical guidelines suggest that we don't for our own health, it is really difficult to overcome that instinct. 

Physical proximity of the kind about which we are now warned, also indicated trust. Some sources suggest that the history of the handshake dates back to the 5th century B.C. in Greece, and was a symbol of peace, showing that neither person was carrying a weapon. Similarly, one of the theories about why we clink glasses before drinking is also about trust and intimacy. Back in the days when poisoning a foe's drink was a convenient way to kill him off, it was believed that if glasses were filled to the brim and clinked hard, a bit of liquid from each glass would slop into the other. Mixing drinks and then taking a sip was, therefore, a gesture that you trusted your drinking partner (at least not to murder you). 

Whereas these are extreme measures, it would be a shame if our lack of touch led to a lack of trust. These times make me really conscious of the physicality of our communications.

5 Touch-related common expressions:

1. Get in touch/ keep in touch/ lose touch
2. Lend a (helping) hand
3. Welcome with open arms
4. Reach out 
5. Give a hand up/ hand out

And this is my performance of Mrs Midas by Carol Ann Duffy; a poem that explores the effect of the tactile. Enjoy!

The 2018 Archibald Prize - Part Four

Further to previous posts, here is the fourth installment in my visit last year to see the touring Archibald Prize at the marvellous Orange Regional Art Gallery. The Archibald Prize is awarded annually to the best portrait 'preferentially of some man or woman distinguished in art, letters, science or politics, painted by any artist resident in Australia.' Often I don't know the subject, so I really enjoy finding out about the people as much as I appreciate the artwork itself.

Treatment, day 49 (sorbolene soak) - Nicholas Harding

In a room full of colourful portraits, the stark black-and-white rendering of this one, really stands out. It's craggy and straightforward at first glance, but a close inspection reveals lines and years of knowledge and expression. The self-portrait was made after the artist was diagnosed with cancer at the base of his tongue. He commenced seven weeks of treatment at Lifehouse, keeping a visual journal to record the process. After 35 sessions of radiation and seven doses of chemotherapy, his treatment finished on day 49. At the time of the exhibition, he was cancer-free.

"One of the compounding side effects of the radiation is the burning of the skin, so when my neck was blistered and bleeding it would be treated with sorbolene, Flamazine cream and ice-cold wet bandage wraps. On the last day of treatment I took a selfie on my iPhone during one of these regular sorbolene soaks and later did a drawing from it, which I used for this self-portrait. Once the colour was removed, it achieved the stark quality I was after."

Herb and Flan by Julian Meagher

There is something fabulously flamboyant about this portrait. The presence of the galah lightens what might otherwise be a sombre palette with dark greys and blues. The subject has piercing blue eyes and a gaze that is full of inquisitive intelligence and confidence.  This is Richard Flanagan, a man whose novels have received numerous honours and awards (including the Commonwealth Writer's Prize in 2002 for Gould's Book of Fish and the Man Booker Prize in 2014 for The Narrow Road to the Deep North). 

"He is one of my favourite novelists but it is his writing and interviews on literature, the environment, art and politics that particularly make him one of Australia's most important voices. Herb, Richard's writing partner, was pretty insistent that he be included in the painting."

Self Portrait by Amanda Davies

I knew nothing at all about this person, but I liked the shiny forehead and the natural skin without enhancements or embellishments - it struck me as a stark, almost communist-style depiction where modern expressions of beauty were to be discouraged, as the inner personality shone through. It turns out that this is a recent self-portrait in a new series of figurative paintings 'addressing the theme of decay and remedy, where the relationship between body, mind and emotion is heightened'.

"In response to a story where an elderly woman mistakenly applied toothpaste to her face instead of moisturiser, I put toothpaste on my face and washed it off numerous times. Toothpaste is very astringent. It gets in your eyes and it stings. Taking hundreds of self-timer photos, I felt numb, exhausted, and relieved afterwards. This self-portrait is drawn from the en of that process and reveals a shifting emotional state between distress and relief.

"I set up situations in my studio that engage the tradition of theatricality in painting - performance being part of the process in developing my work. Here the figure lies horizontally - the position for sleeping, dreaming, healing and dying - yet the painting is exhibited vertically, eliciting a sense of disorientation.

"At the point of decay, the perceived boundaries of the body dissolve ad our sense of self can shrink or expand, allowing us to experience the edge of the self as elastic."

Self-portrait after George Lambert by Yvette Coppersmith

I'm including this one not because I like it (it's fine but doesn't particularly appeal to me) but because it won the Archibald Prize, showing how much (or, rather, little) I know about art. To me, the posture is unnatural, the subject a little bland (with that trout pout beloved of insipid teenagers in selfies, thinking cheekbones are a substitute for personality), and the focal point seems to be the golden curtains behind the subject, rather than the subject itself.  Apparently I am wrong.

The artist, Yvette Coppersmith, has had five previous entries into the Archibald Prize and she is drawn to the self-portrait because, 'it allows me to work from life, with intense absorption in the painting process'. Her theme is female empowerment and she originally wanted to paint Jacinda Ardern, the Prime Minister of New Zealand. I believe the rationale is more impressive than the painting.

"Ardern wasn't available but I thought I might channel something of her in my self-portrait... I had several reasons for asking Jacinda Ardern, but through her role she expands what an image of a young woman can signify - inspiring others to think beyond any perceived limits of their own image in relation to the contemporary political landscape. 

"[George Lambert's] style was academic, yet he supported the avant-garde in Australia and painted portraits of his artistic contemporaries Thea Proctor and Hera Roberts - both independent, self-possessed style makers at a time of burgeoning female empowerment. In referencing George Lambert's style, it's like an outfit slipped on, creating a fixed image of an ever-changing self."

Guy by Ann Middleton

Or perhaps I am in tune with the public after all, because this portrait of Guy Pearce by Ann Middleton won the People's Choice Award. And I like it a lot too. It is a familiar face, but I think the artist captures his expression with all its quirky sensitivity, intelligence and sense of fun. Perhaps it is the blank background which draws me in to focus purely on him; perhaps it is the light which illuminates half of his face, recalling the comedy/ tragedy theatre masks; perhaps it is his naked torso indicating a certain vulnerability; whatever it is, I find this portrait deeply affecting and extremely personal.

"I see profound depth of emotion and some sadness in Guy's eyes, however, his gaze is direct and bold. It was this curious melding of uncompromising determination and a certain boyish sweetness that led me to ask if I could paint his portrait. 

"My portrait of Guy was inspired by early photographic portraits of Indigenous people using tintype photography, the otherworldly translucency of skin it imparts and the compelling directness of an unselfconscious gaze.

I painted Guy in the natural light of my studio. One side of his face is in deep shadow. Obscure and mysterious, it speaks of hidden difficult times. The other side is brilliantly lit. It is an uncompromising light, honest and unflinching. This extreme tonality enabled me to explore Guy's chameleon nature and his personal awareness of the light and dark within that makes him both an extraordinary actor and a kind, funny and unassuming bloke."

Insert headline here by Amani Haydar

Initially the bold print, bright colours, and wonky expression make this appear to be a child's drawing or collage which seems fun and frivolous. Closer inspection, however, reveals the subject has a determined focus and that she is holding an image of a woman holding an image. It has a surreal Russian Doll effect suggesting a mysterious background. The fact that the picture within the picture is a black and white photograph also hints at some sort of reportage or story-telling. I did not know who this person was, but I wanted to. I learned that this is a self-portrait in which the artist holds a photograph of her mother, who holds a photograph of her own mother.

"When my mum was murdered in her home by my abusive father on 30 March 2015, some media outlets circulated a Fairfax photo taken in 2006 while my mum was grieving the death of her own mother, who was killed in an Israeli airstrike while fleeing the southern villages of Lebanon. 

"I incorporated the photo, which I printed straight off the internet (you have to pay for a proper print) as a way of reclaiming my story from the headlines. By painting a self-portrait, I was able to reinstate its personal significance to me.

"I also saw it as an opportunity to challenge assumptions that women victims of crime are helpless, weak or subservient. I have used vibrant colour to convey a sense of hope, while the repetition of patterns echoes the repetition of trauma in my life, but also draws on the type of art found in mosques, which for me symbolises faith, survival and regrowth."

Friday Five: Iso Puzzles

We ordered a new table a while ago, and it arrived on the day that the government banned gatherings of more than two people and prevented us from welcoming folk to our house to share meals and laughter. So we might as well put it to use as a puzzle board until the restrictions are lifted. 

The Painted Ladies, San Francisco

I did the easy bits, and left the gradations in colour of the sky to Him Outdoors.

I was surprised to learn that not everyone does puzzles the same way - some people don't do the edges first. This knowledge has confounded me completely.

Portland Head Light

This one was lent to us by The Luminosity and it was quite tough, but (although there were lots of similarities in the pieces), I couldn't be cross because... well, just look at their fluffy faces emerging!

Lena, Linus and Luke

Another pack of borrowed pieces - from Doctor Kay and the Design Diva - this has fantastic shapes, which are wonderfully easy to slot into place. The laser-cut wooden pieces are very satisfying to touch and arrange into the picture, and the puzzle incorporates several 'whimsy' pieces. These pieces are apparently a historical link to the Victorian puzzle-making past; as the name suggests, the original Victorian puzzle cutters added the individual pieces on a whim and so the term 'whimsy' was born. I broke with my usual method to finish areas first, before completing the edges. I didn't like that. 

Picture frame in the water

Motorcar and butler in the sky

Elephant in the walls

Dolphin in the gondola

St Mark's Square

We also borrowed this last one from Original Gravity. It has no edge pieces. That was challenging for my OCD puzzle building method. The picture on the front is not quite the same as the completed image. And there are five extra pieces. Some people are sadists, pure and simple - can you have a pure and simple sadist? Yes, they design puzzles like this one. 

Take a Coffee Break

The extra five pieces

Special chewed-by-the-dog pieces

Life and Death: The House of Broken Angels

The House of Broken Angels by Luis Alberto Urrea

Little Brown

Pp. 321

Big Angel (Miguel Angel de La Cruz) is planning his last birthday party before he succumbs to the cancer that is killing him. And then his mother dies. The family gathers to commemorate her life and to celebrate his over one Rabelaisian weekend of relationships and recriminations in San Diego. Among the guests is Little Angel, Big Angel’s half-brother, who shares the same father, Don Antonio, but a different life: his mother was not Mexican as the rest of the family are, and the racial resentments are evident as stereotypes rub shoulders with sensitivity.

The party is raucous with lots of food and all its cultural associations, and the novel is peopled with a host of characters; there are so many people (and lots of children), that it is hard to keep up with who is related to whom by marriage or previous entanglements, especially when people have nicknames too. When Little Angel arrives he has a notebook in which he keeps a cheat sheet; this is a great idea and one that is highly recommended for the reader.

The divide between the Mexicans and the Americans is blurred. Little Angel wants to speak Spanish to his family, but they don’t accommodate this wish. “He tried, and they insisted on answering him in English. Though they knew perfectly well that he spoke Spanish as well as they did and better than their children did. Each side had something to prove, and none of them knew what it was.” Two different worlds and cultures collide in an unspoken competition. Little Angel feels torn between the nationalities and he refutes the glib assumptions that one has for the other. For many, America is better, but for others, Mexico is superior in its transparency.

The brothers share a father and the memories of his toxic masculinity. Although he was a dominating brute who abandoned both of their mothers, Big and Little Angel loved him and learned some of their behaviour from him. They share experiences in a series of picaresque reminisces. “The brothers lay side by side, shuffling through so many memories. So many imperfect scenes. It felt as though they had opened a box of old photographs, each of the pictures torn and tattered.”

Big Angel also thinks in scents and smells, which trigger memory. As his body deteriorates, other senses float forward: “Early morning before dawn was best, when he didn’t remember he was dying. For a moment, he thought he had a future. And he savoured his past. Today, it tasted of butterscotch.” The novel is elegiac, but it also fluidly distorts linear timelines. It is a riotous, messy book that depicts a celebration and observance of both life and death with a backdrop of cultural confusion. Perhaps we shouldn’t have to identify with one thing or another, but can select the aspects on which we would like to focus, and drift along on currents of abandon.

The 2018 Archibald Prize - Part Three

Further to previous posts, here is the third installment in my visit last year to see the touring Archibald Prize at the marvellous Orange Regional Art Gallery. The Archibald Prize is awarded annually to the best portrait 'preferentially of some man or woman distinguished in art, letters, science or politics, painted by any artist resident in Australia.' Often I don't know the subject, so I really enjoy finding out about the people as much as I appreciate the artwork itself.

Narcissist, the anatomy of melancholy by James Powditch

Well, this is different - of course it looks like a page from a textbook, but also like an advertisement. And then, we know it must be a portrait, so it is intriguing to consider it in this context. It is a self-portrait, and there is an element that all self-portraiture is narcissistic as one must focus so entirely upon the self. Similarly, one of the features of depression is that the subject becomes self-obsessed as they grapple with their feelings. I like the way that something so messy as human nature is distilled here into a diagrammatic representation.

The artist describes this self portrait as being 'honest and raw, about aging and facing up to the reality of who I am as opposed to what I project'. As previously mentioned; self absorbed. He says he remembers the Visible Man as an anatomy kit from his childhood. Behind the figure are references to his youthful fascinations: movie stars, maps of exotic places, pictures from old art books.

"Things behind the portrait of me include flowers - rose (love), daffodil (narcissism), St John's wort (depression) - and chapter headings from The anatomy of melancholy, by Robert Burton, one of the earliest texts that looks at depression clinically and philosophically. There are also things that represent ways of creating order out of chaos: dates, calendars, statistics and astrological books."

Jimmy (title fight) by Jamie Preisz

The subject of this portrait is one of the few that I actually recognise. Jimmy Barnes is big here in Australia - he was the lead singer of the band Cold Chisel and also achieved success as a solo performer. He is often wheeled out for commentary on socio-political issues and his memoirs, Working Class Boy (2016) and Working Class Man (2017) are both best-sellers. 

His gravelly voice and tough background are his trademarks and are frequently parodied. He is held up as an archetypal 'Aussie battler' with a Scottish upbringing and this image of him as a past-before-date-boxer is an inspired move. He still has the swagger and the attitude if not the fitness or agility of former years. The portrait won the Packing Room Prize, which is a $1,500 cash prize awarded to the best entry in the Archibald Prize as judged by the gallery staff who receive, unpack and hang the entries.

"Jimmy has never been afraid to stand up and fight for his career, his family, and even his life.

"His dad, Jim Swan, was a prize-fighter in Glasgow and that formed part of my inspiration to depict him as a boxer. After losing my sister to suicide, I was touched deeply when I saw an interview with Jimmy speaking about his own suicide attempt. To me, he was fighting against the stigma of mental health issues by speaking so publicly about his own struggles, especially to generations of men who don't feel that having emotional intelligence is a masculine quality.

"The red drapery in the background is a reference to Caravaggio's Judith beheading Holofernes, a painting often considered to represent triumph over tyranny. The drapery also suggests backstage - a place Jimmy knows well."

Hall of fame - portrait of Pat Corrigan by Joanna Braithwaite

I love this image - it reminds me of one of those trompe l'oeil pictures, where we see the subject (Pat Corrigan) standing in front of a plethora of images of himself. I also like the idea of the artist reproducing reproductions; a portrait of portraits, if you will. With his hands clasped behind his back Corrigan has a military bearing and, although his slightly hunched posture suggests a number of years, his expression as he looks straight at the viewer implies a wry wisdom and one would have to be a fool to disrespect him. He is a businessman, art collector and philanthropist and, although I didn't know that, I am not surprised to learn it. According to the artist, he is also "a well-known figure in the Australian art world; renowned for his knowledge, generosity and his cheeky, charming persona".

I like the hyper-realistic style of Joanna Braithwaite and first saw her artwork in The Christchurch Art Gallery Te Puna o Waiwhetū. Her art often features animals and birds in metaphorical settings and she has been described as a "realist, though of an edgy an sceptical sort. Braithwaite's eloquently phrased paintings occupy that point where the traditions of animal painting and Vanitas painting intersect." While I am not so used to see her portraying a human subject, the bright background and strong outlines are familiar. 

"I wanted to paint Pat because it fascinates me that although he is regularly painted by established artists for the Archibald, he has never been painted by a woman before.

"I decided to paint Pat in front of a selection of the many portraits that have been created of him over the years. The earlisest image is a black-and-white photograph by Max Daupin. The other artists whose works are clearly shown, top left to bottom right, are: Paul Newton, Adam Knott (photograph), Anne Zahalka (photograph), Michael Muir, Peter Smets, Euan Macleod, Alan Jones, Paul Newton,Nicholas Harding and Nigel Thompson. I also included a self-portrait with Pat in my studio, which is over his shoulder. The red wall is a nod to China, where Pat was born and spent some formative years. So here is Pat the collector with a collection of Pat portraits."

Villains always get the best lines by Loribelle Spirovski

There is a striking angularity to this portrait that is deeply appealing. The lines of the subject's limbs both reflect and refract the joins of the walls and the floor on which he sits. He appears to be trapped in a box, from which he is anxious to explode at any minute. It does not surprise me to learn that the subject is an actor, Nicholas Hope, to be precise, whom the attached explanation notes is 'best known for his powerful performance in Rolf de Heer's cult 1993 film Bad Boy Bubby'. 

I have never seen this film, but IMBD describes the plot as a 35-year-old man being trapped in the same small room, tricked by his mother. One day he manages to escape and, deranged and naive in equal measures, his adventure into the modern and nihilistic life begins. It seems appropriate for our current situation, and I might look out the film. The artist says she was deeply affected by his portrayal of the character, and when she met him at a premiere of his recent film, she asked him if he would sit for a portrait. 

"He graciously accepted and invited me into his home. I was immediately struck by the very natural, almost balletic way in which he sat on the rug and proceeded to paint him like that. His intense eyes were what I most wanted to highlight, coupled with the controlled calm of his posture." 

Self-care exhaustion by Amber Boardman

This one is my favourite. Its busy, chaotic technique and wide range of colours sing to me as much as the image itself of a woman sitting in a bath with a wine and a book. Is that a wig beside her? Is she wearing a bathrobe in the bath? Has she got a vegetable-health-boost drink as well as a bottle of wine? How can she read with cucumbers on her eyes? Why is she surrounded by paintings, scented candles and a yoga mat - the poor thing is trying to do too many things at once. 

It is as though she has read all the magazine articles about how one has to be creative and the pressure of making time for yourself has simply become too overwhelming as she struggles to conform to the latest tyranny - we can't just relax in our own way; we have to be told how to do it, and then take the perfect Instagram pic to tell everyone else that we are doing it. 

Initially this seems like a peaceful picture, but the more I look at it; the more anxious it makes me. I wasn't sure if this was how I was 'meant' to feel, and began to worry that I was having the wrong reaction, until I read the explanatory panel in which I learned the subject is the artist's alter ego called Jade, the name her mother had originally wanted to call her. 

"Jade looks aspiringly to online representations of beauty, selfie culture and tends such as 'self-care' and 'me time', but finds that trying to relax has become yet another thing she must add to her daily to-do-list.

"Jade attempts these self-care tactics simultaneously , surrounding herself in the bath with a glass of wine, a blender full of green smoothie, self-help books, candles, a facial mask, a yoga mat, ad her newfound hobby, painting.

"On the surface, this painting - which is partly inspired by internet memes on the topic of self-care - is funny because she looks ridiculous and is trying too hard. On a deeper level, it questions consumption, wellness culture and the frantic pace of life.

"I'm interested in the capacity for internet memes, jokes and humour to be little anthropological essays that reveal what is important in our culture at this moment. My work aims to highlight the absurdities of everyday life."

Charlotte by David Darcy

This is almost the antithesis of the previous painting. While there are primary colours in the subject's clothing, the background is sketchy and unimportant. The posture of half sitting on the stool appears awkward and uncomfortable, and there is similarly a total lack of warmth in the expression. This woman looks as though she has fought hard to be where she is and she isn't going to compromise or take any nonsense from anyone. On the basis of this portrait, I would find it impossible to relax in her presence and I would be terrified to laugh because she doesn't look as though humour is a factor in her life. 

Apparently the subject is Charlotte Drake-Brockman, whom the artist describes as 'a charismatic 84-year-old artist who resides in the small rural township of Murrurundi, New South Wales. Locally Charlotte has a reputation as a firebrand who isn't afraid to speak her mind. But the tough persona belies a generous woman.' If this is indeed the case, I feel he has gone too hard on the tough, and not left enough room for the generosity of spirit. 

"When I moved to Murrurundi 18 months ago, Charlotte was the first local to invite me over for a beer. Her zest for life, defiant attitude towards authority, generous spirit and the fact that she still mows her own lawn inspired me. Being the new artist in town, I felt painting a portrait of this local character would help me connect to my new community.

"Charlotte recently lost her partner of 42 years and it's evident from our conversations he is greatly missed. But life goes on. I wanted the painting to portray a woman who is strong, unconventional, comfortable in her aged skin, flamboyant and still formidable. A woman who has lived a full life and commands her own space."

COVID-19 Friday Five: ISO TV

The Durrells Third Series

While I cannot watch live sport or live theatre, I have had to find other ways to entertain myself. As well as listening to a lot of podcasts and reading a lot of books, I have also been watching a lot of TV series. I've been finding it hard to concentrate of late so my usual art-house films and documentaries are on hold, and I don't really like reality TV. I haven't got Netflix or Stan so these are all on free-to-air services.

Harlots Second Series

5 COVID-Friendly TV Series:

1. The Durrells (BBC First) - practically the definition of comfort TV; the adventures of a dysfunctional but charming family led by the matriarch played by Keeley Hawes, and set on the idyllic island of Corfu just before the outbreak of WWII 
2. Friday Night Dinner (ABC iview) - brothers Adam and Jonny Goodman, siblings in an eccentric Jewish family, return home each week for a free meal and to deal with their wonderful parents (Tamsin Greig; Paul Ritter) and their weird neighbour (Mark Heap) - there are six series of this spanning nine years, and I've only just found it! 
3. Harlots (SBS On Demand) - strong roles for women (excellent portrayals from Samantha Morton and Lesley Manville, although the less said about Liv Tyler; the better) as the feuding brothel keepers spit insults at each other in an almost obscenely enjoyable period drama  
4. No Offence (ABC iview) - UK police drama set in Manchester, and in which the three main leads are women with all the ballsy dialogue and attitude you would expect from creator Paul Abbott - also, coincidentally, starring Paul Ritter 
5. Stateless (ABC iview) - excellent Aussie drama with great acting (including Cate Blanchett, Yvonne Strahovski, Asher Keddie and Marta Dusseldorp) and directing but, set around the world of detention camps and illegal immigration, it can be a bit hard to watch in places