Searching for the Real Australia
When I first drove into Sofala nearly a decade ago, it seemed like your typical Aussie country town.
A few old blokes sitting on sagging couches watching the world go by, and a pub with the comforting odour of stale beer and urine, with dead flies by the window. There was a shop selling toasted ham and cheese sandwiches (white bread and plastic cheese of course), and a scattering of stallholders packing up after the monthly market.
In other words, despite a streetscape that would do a Clint Eastwood western proud, Sofala didn't stand out over hundreds of other small towns that I've downed a schooner in.
Here's Russell Drysdale's take on the same streetscape. It's a bleak, unforgiving vision.
Drysdale visited Sofala for the first time in 1947 on a road trip with fellow artist Donald Friend. The town had a bigger impact on Drysdale than it did on me. It was to become a focal point for some of his best, and best-known paintings.
(You're probably familiar with The Cricketers, but if that's the limit of your Drysdale knowledge, then it's worth digging a lot deeper).
But to get the full force of Drysdale's post-apocalyptic vision (which was really just his interpretation of a harsh Australian landscape), you need to head further down the road to Hill End.
I've been haunted by Hill End since my first visit, which involved nearly trashing a rented Toyota on an access road first used in the 1860s, and by the look of it, not maintained since (sorry Europcar).
Despite that, every dollar in damage to the Camry was worth it; Hill End is a magical place.
The road's been sealed in the last few years, making Hill End more accessible. But even though it's an easy day trip from Sydney, few people make the pilgrimage. That's a shame, because Hill End is a glimpse of the Real Australia; a shabbily preserved snapshot of a moment in time, when fortunes were limitless, ambition was endless, and xenophobia was rampant.
Today's blog is just me giving you a glimpse of the artists who've been inspired by the place.
I'm no artist, although I've been fortunate enough to spend some time in Donald Friend's home. It was a moving experience.
I've just made another flying visit to the town, and in a day or three, I'll write more.
A few old blokes sitting on sagging couches watching the world go by, and a pub with the comforting odour of stale beer and urine, with dead flies by the window. There was a shop selling toasted ham and cheese sandwiches (white bread and plastic cheese of course), and a scattering of stallholders packing up after the monthly market.
In other words, despite a streetscape that would do a Clint Eastwood western proud, Sofala didn't stand out over hundreds of other small towns that I've downed a schooner in.
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| Sofala, the main drag |
Here's Russell Drysdale's take on the same streetscape. It's a bleak, unforgiving vision.
 |
| Russell Drysdale, Sofala |
Drysdale visited Sofala for the first time in 1947 on a road trip with fellow artist Donald Friend. The town had a bigger impact on Drysdale than it did on me. It was to become a focal point for some of his best, and best-known paintings.
(You're probably familiar with The Cricketers, but if that's the limit of your Drysdale knowledge, then it's worth digging a lot deeper).
 |
| Russell Drysdale, The Cricketers, 1948 |
But to get the full force of Drysdale's post-apocalyptic vision (which was really just his interpretation of a harsh Australian landscape), you need to head further down the road to Hill End.
I've been haunted by Hill End since my first visit, which involved nearly trashing a rented Toyota on an access road first used in the 1860s, and by the look of it, not maintained since (sorry Europcar).
Despite that, every dollar in damage to the Camry was worth it; Hill End is a magical place.
The road's been sealed in the last few years, making Hill End more accessible. But even though it's an easy day trip from Sydney, few people make the pilgrimage. That's a shame, because Hill End is a glimpse of the Real Australia; a shabbily preserved snapshot of a moment in time, when fortunes were limitless, ambition was endless, and xenophobia was rampant.
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| Hill End, Russell Drysdale. |
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| Nuns' Picnic, Jeffery Smart |
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| The Royal Hotel at Hill End - Donald Friend |
Today's blog is just me giving you a glimpse of the artists who've been inspired by the place.
I'm no artist, although I've been fortunate enough to spend some time in Donald Friend's home. It was a moving experience.
I've just made another flying visit to the town, and in a day or three, I'll write more.
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