Postscript on an Artist

“The Web does not just connect machines, it connects people.” – Tim Berners-Lee

Some months ago I wrote a post on the artist’s voice which mentioned two women that had inspired me: blogger Vy Chazen, and artist Joyce Meier.

Vy follows my blog (as I do hers) and commented on my post almost straight away. I never expected to hear from Joyce Meier, however, as I’d only read about her online.

So you can imagine what a very big and pleasant surprise it was when her daughter, Sue Lovitt, contacted me a couple of weeks ago after coming across my blog.

We corresponded very briefly by email. I was incredibly touched to learn that Sue had read to Joyce what I’d written about her.

Sue also told me that as a result of the article in The Age, the Bridget McDonnell Gallery in Carlton would be holding a solo exhibition for Joyce Meier and she invited me along to the opening, which was on Sunday, 10 November. After participating in many, many group exhibitions, this was to be Joyce’s first solo show… at age 96!

At first I wasn’t sure I would be able to make it. 10 November is the date my father passed away and I wasn’t sure that I should be out and about on the anniversary of his passing. But as the day drew closer I knew I would always regret not going and missing out on the opportunity to meet both Joyce and Sue.

And so I went. The gallery, in an old, narrow, multi-story, building in Carlton, was absolutely packed. Despite the crowd I immediately spotted Joyce, seated and looking radiant, and standing next to her, her daughter Sue. Both were beaming with pride.

I introduced myself to Sue and she warmly clasped my hand and told Joyce who I was. Joyce looked up at me and said, “Well, what do you know!” I could’ve fainted with delight.

As so many of Joyce’s paintings depict children (either as part of broader scenes of everyday life, or as groups playing traditional games), June Factor, author of many children’s books and researcher of children’s play and folklore, was invited to open the exhibition.

June spoke about Joyce’s life and about her art, noting that overwhelmingly Joyce’s art displays a “warm and affectionate embrace” of everyday life.

I couldn’t agree more. As someone who loves writing about the common place and the everyday, what I especially loved about Joyce Meier’s work is her eye for the small details of life. The arch of a back, just so, in The Doorway, capturing perfectly the body of a young girl straining to see. Or the dogs saying a tentative hello to each other in the foreground of Winter, Powlett Reserve.

Painting depicting five young girls, four of whom are standing at a doorway, looking in, their backs to the viewer

Many of the paintings in the exhibition were large group scenes but there were also portraits that captured intimately the relevant detail of their sitter. The focussed, deeply engrossed face of The Surgeon, Atherton, for example.

portrait of a man in military uniform (bust size)

While the portraits are characterised, as most portraits are, by their stillness, the group scenes are mostly action shots: beautifully capturing the movement of life. There is the playful movement of children jumping under a skipping rope, climbing a tree, contesting a mark in a game of football or riding their bicycles. But there is also agitated, urgent movement, most evident in the rally captured in Study for Confrontation and in Confrontation itself.

painting depicting a rally with protestors in foreground waving banner, and police on horses in the background

Joyce Meier is an artist who has loved both the movement and the stillness of life and has painted with her love on her sleeve.

Eventually it was time to go, though not without asking first if I could get a photo with Sue and Joyce, who gratefully obliged me. My friend Joi at the ready with my camera, the photos were taken.

When I look at these photos now I can’t help but think I look a little starstruck. Which is fair enough, too. To be honest, I still can’t believe my luck, to write about an artist who inspires me, and through that writing meet her.


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