A few years ago I was at a Heide exhibition opening, sitting next to an elderly woman, a close friend of Fern’s.
She was small, quiet. I didn’t know her well.
We were surrounded by paintings. Nolans, Boyds, Hesters, Tuckers, hanging on the walls around us.
I asked her how she was connected to Heide.
She pointed to a young woman’s face, painted again and again by different hands.
“That’s me,” she said. “That’s me. And that’s me.”
Her name was Pauline.
Recently, an image of a portrait was sent to me, from someone who’d heard about this project and wanted to help. The portrait was of Pauline. Painted in 1950. By Gray.
It’s oil on masonite. Signed and dated, bottom right: “Gray Smith 1950.” 60 cm x 50 cm.
© Smith Estate. Used with permission via CAL.
I didn’t know it then, but Pauline had sat for several of the painters who gathered at Heide. Nolan. Tucker. Hester.
Gray was one of them.
I’d met her a handful of times over the years, always in passing, never really knowing her story.
She died earlier this year.
I don’t know which other painters made portraits of Pauline that day at Heide. If you do, or if you have memories of her, I’d love to hear from you.
Because while this portrait has found its way to me, most of her story, and what it can tell us about Gray, is still out there, waiting.
