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Ennis shares with her readers some unpublished advice Dupain himself prepared for graduating photography students.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.
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| Max Dupain - Evening wear advertisement for David Jones (Zara Gaden, Francis Bradford and Douglas Channel), 1938, National Gallery of Australia, purchased 1984 |
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| Max Dupain - Jean with wire mesh, c. 1935, National Gallery of Australia, purchased 2006 |
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| 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.
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| Max Dupain - The Flight of the Spectres, bromoil, 1932, National Gallery of Australia, purchased 1979 |
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| 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.
