A Joining of Souls

 She divided her women into two categories: those who could and those who could not. She had little affection for those who could, they had no need of her... - Anne Enright1

Viewing the oeuvres of Brisbane artist, Sarah Hickey, feels very much to me like a transportation back to my childhood. Not back so early into childhood as the time where little girls do not know that they’re being seen and can carelessly mix gumboots with lace dresses, and have no shame in wearing the remnants of the morning’s breakfast on their collar. Where I’m transported to is the age of awareness in a young girl’s life, where hormones and womanly imitation take hold, and the little girl realises that there are expectations, both internal and external, placed upon her. I see the women in Sarah’s work much in the same way that I saw my mother when I was on that verge between girlhood and pubescence – to my innocent child-eyes she was powdered, pristine, and feminine, with the womanly knowledge and confidence that only comes with age and experience, creating an almost regal air of female belonging. I believe many women can recall sliding around the house in their mother’s high-heels, or making extremely colourful attempts at a made-up face with mysterious pots of eye-shadow and tubes of lipstick in vain efforts to speed the growing process and transform from cute little girls to beautiful women. It is these same feelings of awe, admiration and affection that confront me when I meet the gaze of one of Sarah’s creations. These are strong, empowered women: they bring to mind women that I know, women that I wish I knew, and women that I aspire to be.

I’m taken to the moment in Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction (1994) when Vincent Vega enters Jack Rabbit Slim’s 1950’s inspired restaurant and says “It’s like a wax museum with a pulse.” While the women in Sarah’s canvases obviously do not have a pulse, the sentiment of Vincent Vega is still shared as each female character, replicas of the living, do not only have stories, but histories. The duchess, the tiger-tamer, the Spanish lolita – Sarah has not only given the women in her paintings personalities that match their appearances, but through a combination of descriptive titles and the composition of the works, she has given them lives. Sarah writes ‘I am drawn to the richness, complexity and generosity of images that are “full” in every sense of the word.’2 This ‘fullness’ is even evident in the progression of works, and it is here that we start with the Goddess series. The ‘goddesses’ in this series, a combination of curves, femininity, and smiles that can hide an abundance of secrets, are playful and uninhibited. A hint of a garter or the dangerous curve of a breast reveals a curious honesty to the sometimes salacious titles such as Flora Cabaret: All Sweetness and Light and Late Night Strips (2009).

However, a woman can’t always be frivolous and fun, can she? There is a serious side to every woman – the side that can untangle Christmas lights, nurse a crying child, and make business calls all at the same time – the Duchess. Looking at Duchess Katherine of Two Owls (2009), we are faced with a woman whose elegance and beauty can in no way overshadow the determination in her tight lips and unwavering stare. Each of the women portrayed in the Duchess series possess a serenity and strength which is only enhanced by the inclusion of winged companions whose flightiness is subdued by the aura of calm.

The Icons and Circus Sirens see Sarah combine the playfulness of the Goddesses with the serene yet serious atmosphere of the Duchesses, and this theme is only heightened with the progression of Jungle Fleshed and Floral Vamps. Jungle Fleshed Femme Fatales are again adorned by the piercing eyes of feathered creatures, and the eyes of the women have adjusted too – from the flirtatious and seductive glances of the Goddesses and Duchesses, the Femme Fatales stare at the viewer with eyes much like the sleek stare of a lioness as in The Watching Huntress – Can See the Meat for the Trees (2010), or the sparkling awareness in the eyes of Queen Amazon and her Avian Entourage (2010), ensuring that she is the first to see an approaching friend or foe. Angela Carter writes a similar description of one of her characters in the acclaimed The Bloody Chamber, describing a woman of ‘such potent and bizarre charm, of a dark, bright, wild yet worldly thing whose natural habitat must have been some luxurious interior decorator’s jungle filled with potted palms and tame, squawking parakeets.’3 This description is well suited to the Femme Fatales, as while their eyes may convey a raw animalistic understanding, they are in no way wild or savage, and Lioness Leonora on the Hunt with her Fan Dance (2010) confirms with her bejewelled collar that feminine adornment and luxury is in no way lost on these jungle beauties.

Each of Sarah’s works come to life in a process reminiscent of a phrase by art historian Bernard Denvir – ‘a mode of creativity based on the creative significance of passion’2 Sarah confirms this, writing ‘I believe that making art is a spiritual undertaking. We are all born with an innate desire to explore and create; a kind of ‘play’ which is so clearly evident when we are young. It is in the reclaiming or search for that spirit of play that my work has evolved.’5 The spirituality that Sarah refers to is echoed by Tom Prideaux who wrote that Eugène Delacroix ‘had an extra strong attraction besides the obvious and exciting one of reconstructing an event or a person. He often wrote longingly about wanting to join souls with somebody else – and in painting he managed to do it.’6 I feel a strong resemblance between this idea and the relationship that Sarah creates with the women in her paintings. They are portrayals of strong, passionate, and powerful women, yet their vulnerability lies in the fact they need Sarah in order to give them a voice, a face, and a life. It is in this vulnerability, and the relationship between the creator and the created, that we may begin to understand the true spirituality behind Sarah’s work, and her unwavering affection for the joining of souls.

Louise O’Neil, July 2010

1. “(She Owns) Every Thing.” The Portable Virgin, Vintage Books, London, 2007, p.4.

2. Sarah Hickey, 2010, www.sarahhickey.com.au.

3. Vintage Books, London, 2006, p.4.

4. Fauvism and Expressionism, Barron’s, New York, 1978, p. 56.

5. ibid.

6. The World of Delacroix, Time-Life Books, New York, 1966, p.80.