Lucy Culliton

I have had the good fortune of knowing Lucy Culliton for several years and, while familiar with many of the subjects in Lucy Culliton: Caution wet paint , it was only recently that I had the privilege of meeting them in person. Discussing Sixteen Weeners 2017 over coffee and biscuits in ‘the good room’ of Bibbenluke - Culliton’s home in southern New South Wales – the artist suggested we head out later in the rain for a short walk, ‘and you can meet my sheep, because the sheep are really worthwhile just saying hello to.’ Indeed, they are (and the sight of them en masse, tearing down a wet hillside towards us, is one I’ll long remember). But Culliton’s ability to paint each sheep, pigeon, pig or poddy calf in her ever- expanding menagerie, means one needn’t travel to her Monaro property to meet them all. Seeing them in a gallery produces similarly memorable encounters, as the visitor comes eye to eye with the likes of Marvel, Charlotte and Nelson, Bison, Brocky, and Pushy, and Edwina and Edward, two of the artist’s four emus. Each animal is important, Culliton says. ‘I want them looking at you, so that you’re sort of equal. You don’t look down at them. You look at each other. I want you to know how beautiful they are and how individual they are.’ Those 16 weeners are among 62 sheep in residence at Bibbenluke and their depiction is as much a narrative of salvation as it is a group portrait. ‘I didn’t mean to get that many sheep,’ she admits of a population boosted by creatures unwanted by a local merino breeder due to their ‘worthless’ black wool. ‘I went to pick up a couple, but how do you only pick a couple when whoever you don’t pick doesn’t get to survive? So I said, ‘can I have all of them?’ The pigeons are a similar story. ‘The fellow who owned the pigeons died and his widow said, “just take the ones you want and the rest can go to Mogo Zoo for animal food”. How can you say, I’ll take those 20?’ So, 250 pigeons later… Rescue is a theme that runs through many of Culliton’s paintings and her way of life, down to the former mechanic’s building, saved from demolition in town and which now serves as her studio at Bibbenluke, her five greyhounds and much of the furniture that we - and they – are sitting on. ‘I’ve got this terrible rescue gene,’ she says. ‘It is more about rescue than collecting. I hate unwanted things being discarded. I rescue animals, half-dead pot plants… trees.’ LUCY CULLITON Self cactus hugging Tucson 2005 oil on canvas 66 x 66 cm 10