I first visited TMAG in 2018 on a family holiday to Hobart, having previously found inspiration in some mainland Australian paintings for formal poems in the style – or rather, one of the styles – of John Betjeman. As such, I visited TMAG half in search of further inspiration, which struck a few times; one such was in the form of two paintings by Knut Bull of the early Hobart landscape. While the paintings obviously convey an idyllic perspective on 19th-century Australia, this cognitive dissonance between their beauty and the hardships likely experienced by the city’s residents may also have implications for us as viewers of the art today, and I have attempted to convey this indirectly through the thoughts of the poem’s persona.
Why are there two? The first is good,
Quite heartfelt, skilful too; why should
He paint another painting? Would
They want one more?
Why are there two? And different too,
The first with its warm-hearted view,
The other cold, with sea-storm brew,
And air of war.
And was he asked to paint them so,
Both of them, poles apart, and go
To Europe, such that he might show
The world this gem,
This wondrous picture of a town,
So forward and of great renown,
And never speak of those who drown,
Nor speak of them
Who burn, who blister, bleed, and brace
Themselves for storms, nor those who face
The sky, the soldiers, whose embrace
Was dear to some
Perhaps, but is no thought of ours,
Who know of houses, and hot showers,
Who come here for the cake and flowers –
Why did we come?
Or was it choice? Did he complete
The first, and think it far too neat
And tidy, humble, kind, discreet?
And did he frown?
Perhaps that’s why he did one more,
And maybe this is what he saw,
This wrathful land, this quiet war –
This Hobart Town.
