The Headmaster’s portrait

Senior Master in Academic Extension Dr Christopher Allen provides some fascinating insight into Mr Robert Hannaford’s painting of the Headmaster’s portrait.

 

Sydney Grammar School is fortunate to have three – or more exactly four – portraits by the doyen of the genre in Australia, Robert Hannaford, who has painted Prime Ministers Hawke and Keating, Dame Joan Sutherland, Sir Donald Bradman, Tim Flannery and countless other notable individuals. In addition to these portraits, there is also a streetscape of Paddington, painted when he was staying at Vialoux Avenue over twenty years ago, which today hangs in the Dining Room at College Street.

Hannaford’s portraits at Grammar include his outstanding likenesses of Dr John Vallance (2004) and of Mr John Sheldon (2001), each representing a different aspect of his art: the official portrait of John Vallance as Headmaster, in Big School, is more formal, more highly finished, and also more consciously composed, with its quiet suggestion of thoughtfulness and interiority. In contrast, the head and shoulders study of John Sheldon, in the Master of the Lower School’s corridor, is less formal but unforgettably fresh and vivid.

After these two remarkable paintings, comparable to the best portraits in the history of Australian art, we were delighted to be able to convince Mr Hannaford to return to College Street to paint the official portrait of Dr Richard Malpass. This was admittedly not hard to achieve; he had become fond of the School during his previous stay, and in the intervening years would sometimes drop in to join an afternoon Life Drawing class. In 2016 he very kindly and without any charge to the school painted a portrait of Sarge (Mr Greg Bulger) as a demonstration of his technique, and allowed us to make a documentary video recording of the whole process. Although it was not initially conceived as a finished portrait, Mr Hannaford gave us permission to restretch this picture and frame it on the occasion of Sarge’s retirement last year.

The portraits of Dr John Vallance and Mr John Sheldon

Mr Hannaford with Sarge Bulger.jpg


Pictured: Mr Hannaford with Mr Greg “Sarge” Bulger

The earlier portraits had been painted in what is now the Senior Ceramics Studio, so another room with suitable lighting had to be found, and in the end Mr Peter Whild generously allowed us to take over his study for a week of intensive daily sittings. This began with discussions – a portrait always involves a kind of collaboration between artist and sitter – about the furniture to be used and the pose that the Headmaster would take. Dr Malpass and I had discussed how he should sit, and I had prepared for him a Powerpoint illustrating some of the greatest portraits in the history of art; but in the end he formed his own clear idea of how he would like to present himself – and significantly, sitting in a chair that has profound historical associations not only with Sydney Grammar School but the University of Sydney itself.

In this improvised studio, which some of us eagerly visited every day that week, the portrait evolved from the first broad blocking-in of light and shade to the finished composition that we see today. Meanwhile Dr Malpass had the opportunity to watch, from the sitter’s perspective, the unique process of a master portraitist working in a method that grew out of the teaching of the famous Scottish-Australian painter, teacher and theorist Max Meldrum (1875-1955).

Meldrum is known for his distinctive painting style, his important though contentious theoretical book The Science of Appearances (1950), and for a group of talented pupils, of whom the most famous today is Clarice Beckett. His own work and that of his school have been the subjects of renewed interest and several substantial exhibitions in recent years.

Dr Malpass recalls:

“Sitting for Mr Hannaford was a quietly extraordinary experience. From 8am on Monday morning until 3pm the following Sunday, I would assume quite precisely that same pose for about seven hours a day, albeit with periodic breaks occasioned by Mr Hannaford pausing and declaring: “and rest!”. That week ABC Classic FM offered anyone who happened to be sitting for their portrait a week-long special featuring the medieval compositions by Hildegard of Bingen. Mr Hannaford is a gentle, softly spoken and warm man. That said, we found ourselves ever so slightly at odds on the first morning regarding the proposed composition of the portrait. He was reluctant to include the Headmaster’s chair, which dates from the inauguration of the University of Sydney in Big School, and has always sat in the Headmaster’s study at College Street. Ultimately I convinced him to include it as this was the one compositional non-negotiable for me.

This chair has featured as a recurrent symbol in the earlier headmaster portraits of Colin Healey, Alastair Mackerras and Ralph Townsend. Interestingly, former Headmaster John Vallance’s portrait (also by Hannaford) is the exception to this pattern. As for Mr Hannaford’s approach to his work, his tools of trade were few, but his precision of method was immediately apparent. His movements in anticipation of every single individual brush stroke might be likened to a goal kicker in rugby when stepping up to take a penalty kick or conversion, pacing several steps back, only to then dart his eyes swiftly back and forth from sitter to canvas, before dashing in to execute a single brush stroke on the canvas and then darting back once again into position, a process which must have been repeated perhaps ten thousand times across those seven days.”


Pictured: Mr Hannaford at work

Meldrum despised both academic naturalism and modernist styles, believing that painting should give an objective account of the world as it appears to our eyes. To achieve this, he would set up the canvas next to the sitter and then seek to match the painted image with visual phenomena at a succession of set distances. He began by looking at the sitter from a distance at which little more than the difference between the light and dark sides of the figure could be seen. He would approach the canvas and make a corresponding mark, then walk back again to make sure that what he had put down really matched what he could see from that distance. After that he would take up a slightly closer viewpoint at which further, but still very broad discriminations of light and shade could be made; and this process would be carried on until the artist was finally within arm’s length of the canvas.

This is broadly the method followed by Robert Hannaford, and it involves, especially at the outset, much scurrying backwards and forwards from the furthest point of the studio to the surface of the painting as described by Dr Malpass above. The evolution of the image was fascinating to watch, from the most rudimentary tonal distinction to a gradually closer articulation of form, entirely based on the fall of light and areas of shadow, which slowly define the features of the face. The process is initially objective and in a sense agnostic and impersonal, and yet it is extraordinary how quickly a sense of the character of the sitter – as I witnessed both in this portrait and in Sarge’s – begins to arise out of what seems an austerely optical process.

The completed portrait

Dr Richard Malpass and his son Zachary at the unveiling  (1).jpg

Of course much more is going on than simply optical matching; intangible qualities of personality and feeling are communicated in the course of conversation between artist and sitter, and even wordlessly and intuitively through the hours spent together in a state of intent presence. Indeed the very fact that the artist is so fully occupied with the visual phenomena before him perhaps makes it easier to sense and capture these subtler and more ineffable aspects of the subject’s inner life. Hannaford thus seems to find his sitter without searching for him, and by the end of the week had produced the portrait, both striking and personal, that has now taken its place in Big School in the historic succession of Sydney Grammar School’s Headmasters.


Pictured: Dr Richard Malpass and his son Zachary at the unveiling