Living in the Seventies

Exhibition Review: Visual Art | Brian Rope

Living in the Seventies | from the collections of the National Library of Australia (NLA)

NLA Treasures Gallery | 14 August 2025 to 1 February 2026

1975 was a year to remember in Australia, especially so for those whose ages were such that they truly participated in everything that happened. Now the National Library of Australia (NLA) has reflected on what it was like to live in the seventies.

Dr Guy Hansen, the library’s Director of Exhibitions says Living in the Seventies explores whether there is more to 1975 than a dose of Baby Boomer nostalgia. “Looking at the collections held by the National Library of Australia reveals a much more complex story about a fascinating time in Australian history.” To consider the truth of that, I’ll focus on how exhibits in this great exhibition of posters, books, photos and more impacted on me (slightly older than the Baby Boomers).

The end of 1974 saw tropical Cyclone Tracy devastate Australia’s most northern city, Darwin. During a family get together, my brother-in-law received orders to prepare himself to go to Darwin the next day as part of the disaster relief contingent. That affected all our family, and most certainly had a major impact on him.

In 1975 music, art, fashion, literature and film transformed our view of the world. Significant films including Picnic at Hanging Rock and The Removalists proved we wanted to see Australian stories on the big screen. I certainly wanted to see more. Our favourite television show Countdown provided a soundtrack for suburban life with glam rockers Skyhooks. I watched the show regularly. And who didn’t love AC/DC and Aunty Jack?

Ego is not a dirty word_nla.cat-vn1843249

Attending the exhibition’s media preview provided an opportunity to chat with one of our favourite Australian TV personalities who entertained us through the seventies. No, it wasn’t Norman Gunston who was crowned “King of Canberra” in 1976. It was Denise Drysdale sharing some memories and reflections of the 70s – from TV to fashion, feminism and politics, and how 70s events still influence Australians today.

Norman Gunston and Denise Drysdale_nla.obj-148394048

The long-running Vietnam War which had a powerful impact on Australians finally ended. I wasn’t called up for Army service, but I knew a few people who were. The protest marches at that time recently very much came to mind again, with recent major marches relating to the current Gaza situation drawing comparisons.

Australia’s Federal government led by Labor Prime Minister Gough Whitlam implemented major social reforms including no-fault divorce but also found itself mired in a series of political controversies. The women’s liberation movement challenged many long-held assumptions about the roles of women. Funded projects for 1975’s International Women’s Year included another feature film, Caddie, a study of the working conditions of migrant women, and the establishment of various women’s centres and refuges. My wife was one of many women who had to resign as a public servant following our marriage in 1965. I knew activist and academic Elizabeth Reid before she was appointed, in a world first, as Women’s Affairs Adviser to the Prime Minister.

Women on the march_nla.obj-137045864

1975 ended dramatically. Governor-General Sir John Kerr dismissed the government on 11 November. I was then working for the Australian Public Service Board in offices quite close to the then Parliament House. After hearing rumours, I joined others running to see what was happening. We made it in time to hear Whitlam make his famous speech on the steps of the House.

Newspaper vendor_nla.obj-152388014

Flared jeans, platform shoes and burnt orange dominated 70s’ fashion. I wore them all. They were all gloriously rendered on brand-new colour television sets. And, yes, I owned one.

Colour TV What to look for_nla.cat-vn1285282

This exhibition has most effectively brought together a range of objects exploring politics, conflicts and disasters, as well as popular culture, food, fashion and sport, in a colourful celebration of iconic seventies design. Have you still got your copy of Margaret Fulton’s Cookbook?

Margaret Fulton Crockpot Cookbook_nla.cat-vn2834240

This review is also available on the author's blog here.

Max Dupain - A Portrait

Non-fiction Book Review | Brian Rope

Title: Max Dupain - A Portrait

Author: Helen Ennis

Publisher: Harper Collins

Helen Ennis, author of this portrait of Max Dupain, one of Australia’s most famous photographers, has previously written numerous other books including an acclaimed biography of Dupain’s first wife Olive Cotton. I have no doubt this almost identically long new book also will be highly regarded.

Ennis starts this book with a 1984 staged photo of Dupain by Melbourne photographer John Gollings, describing it as an “irreverent homage to a dominant figure in Australian photography” and using it to argue Dupain was “obviously determined to exercise as much control as possible over the terms of his own participation” despite appearing vulnerable. 

The author then describes the three worlds of Dupain – his domestic situation, his work, and his world of “his own creation.” Three things he sought to keep separate throughout his life. In the discussion of this there are a few observations I found myself immediately relating to. Another Australian photographer David Moore, one of Dupain’s long-term friends, is quoted as saying about him “he needed to photograph like he needed to breathe.” I would say the same about many people (including myself) – whether their passions are photography, sport, gardening or anything else.

Ennis also tells us that Dupain’s cousin Lucille thought his photography was a way of escaping from what was going on in the world. And that he, himself, saw his creative task as being to get to the essence of things. She also quotes from a foreword to Dupain’s 1948 monograph written by Hal Missingham, then Director of the Art Gallery of New South Wales, “Whatever he is photographing there is the same penetration of essentials.”

Those observations by Lucille Dupain and Hal Missingham both ring absolutely true for me. Being creative with their photography is the thing which truly motivates many people. No matter how good their documentary photos, their traditional landscapes, or the portraits taken for paying customers, their real joy comes from creativity during those times when they conceive an idea and then seek to produce artworks in response to that concept.

Ennis shares with her readers some unpublished advice Dupain himself prepared for graduating photography students. Drawing on personal experience, he clearly expressed his view they would have to photograph such things as lousy furniture, industrial complexes, brides and babies to earn sufficient money, because it wasn’t possible to live on “art” photography. However, the author’s book goes on to show and speak favourably about Dupain’s commercial photography as well as his artworks.

Amongst those of Dupain’s images reproduced in the 500+ pages, there are shots of his mother Ena (drying dishes), father George (in his library) and his wives (Olive Cotton and Diana Illingworth). There are some of his paid advertising pieces, beaches and beach culture, nudes, flowers and more. As Ennis discusses the images, we learn about photographers Dupain emulated, the “great creative minds” who most inspired him, his relationships with models, his interest in surrealism, his use of darkness to create mystery, his hatred of war, and the interweaving of his life and his art. There is just so much covered providing, as Ennis intended, a detailed and fascinating portrait of her subject.

Max Dupain - Evening wear advertisement for David Jones (Zara Gaden, Francis Bradford and Douglas Channel), 1938, National Gallery of Australia, purchased 1984

Max Dupain - Jean with wire mesh, c. 1935, National Gallery of Australia, purchased 2006

Max Dupain - Silos through windscreen, 1935, National Gallery of Australia, purchased 1983

There are some famous photos included, including Flight of the spectres made when he was just 21, and which very much impressed another high-profile photographer, Harold Cazneaux. Sunbaker, an impromptu shot of a friend taken in 1938 but not publicly exhibited until 1975, is his most well-known portrait and probably Australia’s most iconic image.

Max Dupain - The Flight of the Spectres, bromoil, 1932, National Gallery of Australia, purchased 1979

Max Dupain - Sunbaker, c. 1938, National Gallery of Australia, purchased 1976

Near the end of the book there is another portrait of Dupain - taken in 1991, just seven years after the Gollings one at the start of the book. This latter image is by another well-known Australian William Yang who also says Dupain sought to assert his control over the session, seemingly to project vitality whilst the resultant image actually reveals a “clearly unwell man.”

In her concluding words Ennis talks about Dupain idolising rare individuals who could rise up and create something extraordinary and poses the question of whether he had done so. She tells us he suspected he was not one of the exalted few, but rather an ordinary man with an exceptional talent. Obtain a copy and read this fascinating book, then decide for yourself.

This review is also available on the author's blog here.

 

Joyce Evans (Photographer)

Book Review | Brian Rope

Title: Joyce Evans

Author: Sasha Grishin

Publisher: National Library of Australia Publishing

It seems a little odd to review a book by a fellow reviewer, but this book is about the photographer, Joyce Evans, and her imagery - not its author, Sasha Grishin.

Reading the book I was quickly struck by Grishin’s observation “her work is neither widely known nor fully appreciated”. Why? Because I had no knowledge of Evans’ work. Curiously though, my wife knew Evans and typed a lot of her university essays when she worked for Evan’s husband.

I decided to contact a dozen folk who I expected would know of Evans because of their past art/photography studies, curatorial backgrounds, or key roles with important art museums. I asked whether they were aware of Evans’ work and whether or not they appreciated it. To my surprise, only one had any knowledge of Evans whatsoever. She had exhibited with Evans several times and been impressed with her photography.

A blogger I follow recently wrote a short personal appreciation of another photographer’s life and work. In it, he spoke of photographers who have made their major contributions early in their careers and over a relatively short period of time. He expressed enthusiasm for those who continue producing quality work throughout their lives. Evans owned and used a camera from the age of 16, albeit initially as an avid amateur. In her mid-40s she visited an international art fair in Basel and was excited by the photography scene. That led her to open a photography gallery in Melbourne, then to study photography. Evans was 50 when she began using photography as a serious art form. She had her first solo exhibition in 1986 which launched her career as a professional photographer. She remained active in photography for the remainder of her life.

The National Library of Australia holds an archive of Evans’ life work, containing around 30,000 analogue and 80,000 digital works, plus considerable associated documentation. It’s one of the largest archives of any contemporary Australian photographer in any public institution. In 2016, Evans herself invited Grishin to write this book and worked closely with him to achieve it, despite declining health. She approved the final text of all chapters but, sadly, died before publication.

So what do I think of Evans’ imagery? It is diverse. Some, not all, early amateur shots are, perhaps unsurprisingly, amateurish. One about a 1996 rally against racism is certainly about an important Australian story. 

Joyce Evans, Rally against Racism, Treasury Gardens, Melbourne, 1996, nla.obj-143145840

Evans’ somewhat privileged life and good contacts (often portrait subjects) definitely assisted to get her professional career going. Federal Minister Clyde Holding’s invitation to join Aboriginal Affairs as an honorary documentary photographer was instrumental and resulted in her recognising the need to see photographs that should be taken. One book chapter is devoted to “finding the image”. Another to documentary shots of Australia, including roadkill on Australia’s “endless roads”. The latter caused me to think about Judith Nangala Crispin’s very different poetic artworks of such subject matter. Evans’ images such as Uluru, Northern Territory (featured on the book cover) are delightful renditions of our outback.

Joyce Evans, Portrait of Barbara Blackman, 1989, nla.obj-135941390

 

Joyce Evans, Uluru, Northern Territory, 1987, courtesy National Library of Australia

Joyce Evans, Desert Car on Gunbarrel Highway, Northern Territory, 1991, nla.obj-153485555

The book includes some  photos of places Canberrans know well – a windmill at lake George, the Niagara Café at Gundagai. Images taken a little further away include one of the start of Benalla’s Anzac Day march in 1994. 

Joyce Evans, Windmill on Lake George, New South Wales, 1983, nla.obj-153304178

There are some excellent art landscape images, including Eelgrass with Blades Coated in Algae, Mungo Tree, Dimboola Dreaming and two of Cotswold Farm. 

Joyce Evans, Eelgrass with Blades Coated in Algae, 2000–2001, courtesy National Library of Australia

Joyce Evans, Mungo Tree, 1990, courtesy National Library of Australia

I know of many folk who have substantial photography collections telling Australian stories which would be worthy additions to the NLA collections. You might even have a great collection. If so, check out https://www.nla.gov.au/support-us/giving-your-national-library/offer-us-collection-material.

This review is also available on the author's blog here.