In media, often our decisions are driven in some part by commercial concerns. That’s especially true today, with the advertising dollars that are a publisher’s lifeblood increasingly migrating away from magazines, newspapers and websites and instead, being allocated to search engines, social media and influencers.
This very subject was at the core of a talk I hosted at the Asia-Pacific edition of the South by Southwest (SXSW) conference, on a panel featuring the creative director of Esquire Australia, Grant Pearce, and social media influencer Kristine Fernandez, whose following across Instagram and TikTok is almost a million strong. In mulling over the challenges of serving our audiences while also generating enough revenue to remain afloat, we discussed how important it is to collaborate with brand partners we truly believe in and can authentically, unreservedly recommend.
As I write this, the day after that panel conversation, I’m sitting on the balcony of my hotel room at the Park Hyatt Sydney—which I authentically, unreservedly recommend, dear reader—looking across at one of the most easily identifiable views in the world: the Sydney Opera House and harbour. It’s a vista that has not only been repeatedly immortalised on film but has also been rendered by some of Australia’s leading visual artists—huge paintings of the harbour by noted Aussie daubers Brett Whiteley and Ken Done adorn the walls of the Sydney International Convention Centre where SXSW APAC is held, in fact.
Most of Australia’s biggest-selling artists of all time are men, like Ken and Brett. The country’s most successful female contemporary artist, meanwhile, is a lady by the name of Del Kathryn Barton—the only woman to feature on the list of top ten Australian artists by auction price.
I got in touch with Barton after admiring her work at the ART SG fair at MBS earlier this year, and have been saving the resulting interview for this art-themed issue of Esquire Singapore. An issue like this is a rare pleasure for publishing professionals, as it gives us the chance to think less about commercial matters and instead, simply shine a spotlight on people we believe are deserving. People like Barton, whose artworks are astonishingly detailed objects of phantasmagorical beauty.
While personally, I also have a lot of love for hastily splashed abstract art—à la Helen Frankenthaler, Robert Motherwell, Franz Kline, Joan Mitchell et al—something I deeply appreciate about Barton’s paintings is how meticulous, how carefully crafted they are. The amount of work that goes into her art is extraordinary. She says this modus operandi is most probably a product of her upbringing.
“I grew up in an environment where I wasn’t exposed to the art world at all. My mother was a teacher and a gardener,” Barton explains. “But one of the things that imprinted me a lot about her was she did a lot of very painstaking, delicate quilt-making and stitching. And so, from a young age, I grew up just really valuing a surface where a very passionate, committed, labour-intensive experience has taken place.”
Applying this approach to her own practice initially held Barton back professionally. “Early on in my career, my work was criticised for being overtly decorative or illustrative,” she says. “Thankfully, those are not dirty words in the art world anymore.” To Barton, “The level of commitment and a surface that very authentically reflects the level of passion and commitment (to the work) is something that I’m very excited about.”
Del Kathryn Barto
For her fans’ sake, Barton says she’d be delighted to speed things up to better meet the demand for her paintings, which far outstrips supply. “Many times I’ve thought quite pragmatically about, should (my works) take months, take years? Is there any way I could circumvent that? But if anything, it’s the opposite. The work just gets more and more labour intensive—and I just love pushing that further and further.”
Often setting out to trick the eye with intricate renderings that only reveal their complexity upon close inspection, Barton says, “I love surfaces that from a distance almost look minimal, but then you lean in and you realise that there are hundreds of thousands of marks and it sort of takes on this micro-macro capacity. It’s like there’s a vibrational quality, the surfaces are kind of humming with energy.”
Although Barton is intrigued by the potential for technology and artificial intelligence to expand artists’ capabilities and horizons, there’s nothing like encountering a real-life painting, she reckons—at least as far as her own art is concerned. “I really think my work is much better in the flesh,” Barton says. “You have to stand there and it affects you, it goes way beyond the cognitive experience, it affects your energy, your emotional life. It’s a very real exchange and encounter in that way.”
Barton has twice won one of the world’s most prestigious art awards, the Archibald Prize for portraiture, first with a painting of her family, and subsequently, with another depicting the actor Hugo Weaving. I ask her whether, like many chefs I speak with, she doesn’t set out to win plaudits (or Michelin stars, as the case may be) but is more concerned with creating the best work possible.
Del Kathryn Barto
“Having a career as an artist is such a long game,” she replies. “I think I was very fortunate, at the age that I was when I first won the Archibald, I’d already put in 10 years of the most anxious self-doubt, and juggling four part-time jobs then spending every other moment in the studio… My only goal in life is, or was at that stage, to live a life where I could make art every day. So I literally am living my dream now. And I’m always reminding myself of that.”
The advice Barton gives young artists is to make the work its own reward—and if they can live without their art, then maybe they should consider doing so. “Your passion for your work is the only thing that will ultimately sustain you,” she says, “and sustain the capacity for you to have a career in the art world because it is so brutal.”
Barton has succeeded despite, she confesses, lacking the self-promotional, glad-handing skills that have played a big part in many prosperous artists’ ascent. “My friend, I am the worst at that,” she says. “I have this ridiculous fear that when people meet me, they’ll like my work less. I’m the worst at building relationships with collectors. I really am. I’m an introvert. Socially awkward, I get social anxiety.” Instead, she says, “I just try to love people through my work.”
Her ultimate goal, Barton says, is “creating images that are beautiful and hopefully get people to think about caring for the earth, and also finding a way to coexist on this incredible planet, that’s not toxic. That’s not aggressive. That’s not destructive. I really want to offer beauty to the world.” What a blessing to be able to make a living doing precisely that.
