Residency report: James Vicars

James Vicars, Writing by the water, August 2021 

Silence. A cool, easy silence overlaid by the rustle of the breeze through the trees, the occasional, shrill bird cry, and the always-present lapping of water… As much as anything, this was my experience at Gunyah for my two week residency, and it set the tone for what I did. It must be a very different place in warmer weather or school holidays – or almost anytime covid lockdowns don’t apply! There was hardly any road traffic, hardly any machine noise other than boats (no mowers and blowers) and only the odd person or two walking their dogs in the evening. It was perfect for my stay because it provided spaciousness for thought and inspiration. 

James Vicars, Gunyah trees, August 2021 

And that’s because I’ve been developing a project in fiction, a story about growing up and grappling with confusing times, and it needed a sustained period of work to launch it. I’m excited that it’s moved forward quite well, alongside the memoir about the 2019 fires in which we lost our own place in the bush. I’ve written a substantial journal as the basis for this, though it still needs shaping as a memoir. The Gunyah and its beautiful environment provided space for contemplation of this, and I offer my sincere thanks. However, it also prompted some powerful connections with the themes of this writing.

James Vicars, Gunyah deck railing, August 2021 

The first evening I arrived I went down to the water and saw a tall sloop under sail moving gently up the cove, the westerly breeze on her quarter. She was making way slowly, perhaps because the tide was low. Though this channel looks safe enough, it’s a reminder that we mustn’t take the natural world for granted. These mariners took care; on the water your life can depend on it. On land you might forget, but the oyster shells on the water’s edge can still cut your feet, trees can drop branches and fire can roar through their canopies. Around Gunyah this is a risk at times, but in my writing about the fires of 2019-20 and what can be learned from them, it’s still plain that we need to work with trees: without them the land would be scorched, infertile and windblown. And so many animals have their homes in them – I love how the trees and native bush below the house hasn’t been turned into lawn! But the bigger picture shows that the truly dire risk is notto do everything we can to secure the strongest action on global warming. The science is absolutely clear, and the IPCC’s new report, released while I’ve been here, contains the starkest of warnings. So, I urge every one us to speak up to other people, companies and politicians in your own voices – we must use our courage and not hold back out of embarrassment or fear. That is what will best protect the Gunyah and its trees, animals, air and water, a world within the greater world, for our children and their children.

James Vicars, Gunyah lights, August 2021 

My cereal bowl propped among rocks

and oysters, clear water shimmering;

a fish flickers and a wading heron

snaps up breakfast on the tide.

James Vicars, Gunyah jetty, August 2021 

James Vicars, Gunyah residency report, August 2021

jamesvicars.com

Residency report: Patricia Petersen

Up until this year I had been living in Armidale and 2020 had been a trying year for many in regional NSW with drought, bushfires and smoke. The vegetation was recovering and rejuvenating, when Covid struck both attacking bodies and people’s sense of well being. 2021 has also been disorientating and exhausting year for me as we sold our home of many years in Armidale, moving twice before settling into our new home on the NSW north coast. I was still unpacking boxes in my home studio when I took off to do the Gunyah Artists Residency. It was an absolute delight to set up in the well-lit Gunyah studio which had an inspiring outlook. Gunyah provided a welcome elixir and antidote to all the recent upheavals I’d experienced. I felt safe, cocooned, and nurtured in this peaceful, idyllic space. 

Patricia Petersen, Gunyah views, July 2021

Gunyah was a totally different environment to any I had stayed in before, with its tranquil ambiance and mesmerising views, it started to work its magic immediately. Living so close to the water with the gentle sound of it lapping on the shore, the strong smell of bush plants, the many bird calls, the look and feel of the different textures and dappled light, heightened my senses and gave me an increased awareness of my surroundings. I was inspired to respond to this environment and ‘bottle it’ for my memory, as well as for reference for future artworks. As a result, I have come away with a swath of drawings and paintings made using charcoal, pencil, pens, watercolours, and Asian ink on drawing papers, Arches watercolour paper, raw canvas and rice paper.

Patricia Petersen, Gunyah wattle, July 2021

The subject matter and inspiration came from the immediate Gunyah environment. The newly blossoming wattle, the tall gums and their leaves, the hill across from the jetty, the water and the oyster shell laced coloured rocks outside and in the water glistening with light caught my imagination. I even used the water that I scooped up from the near the jetty to mix my paints and inks. I not only wanted Gunyah to be a muse, but to be part of the artworks themselves.

Patricia Petersen, Gunyah water, July 2021

I had friendly visits from the local wildlife, like the young Kookaburra and Pied Butcher bird that sat on the verandahs as various times, and I was excited when I heard dolphins breathing and saw them swim by whilst painting near the jetty. Friends from Taree that I hadn’t seen for many years spent a day with me and we had a delicious French lunch at Tillermans at Tea Gardens.

In the evenings in front of the cosy log fire burner, instead of watching TV serials in the evening I recorded my day and read 'The Last Painting of Sara De Vos' by Australian writer Dominic Smith.

I have come away refreshed and revitalised with a wealth of reference drawings and paintings. I recorded my response and impressions of Gunyah and value the new ideas for future paintings the experience has given me. As importantly, it has also given me a clearer picture of where my art practice is heading.

Patricia Petersen, Gunyah residency report, July 2021

@fineartricia

Patricia Petersen, Self-portait at Gunyah, July 2021