Cressida spent her early years in the Sydney beachside suburb of Manly until, when she was 10 years old, her parents bought a hobby farm in Mittagong. Portentously, the neighbouring property was a dairy. She enjoyed an “amazing childhood’, spending as much time as possible riding horses at historic Throsby Park.

“I would stay in the old servants’ quarters with a bunch of girls and guys on weekends and in the holidays. There was no supervision and we had a lot of fun.”

After she finished school, Cressida completed a hospitality course in Sydney and later a business degree in Canberra. She then travelled overseas and when she returned to Australia she worked in the wine industry. This is where she met Michael, who had been born in Wollongong and studied at the University of Sydney.

The young couple bought a house in Leichardt where they “grew vegetables, had chooks in the backyard and dreamed of getting out of Sydney”.

Cressida and Michael took a step toward living this dream by buying a small property near Picton, about an hour’s drive south-west of Sydney. They planted a market garden and pecan trees and made butter from their “house cow”. Fascinated by the science of making cheese from milk, they bought some dairy goats “but they kept jumping fences and we decided they were not for us”.

Then, in 2005, they purchased six East Fresian ewes, renowned for the quality of their milk. The Cains milked their herd of half a dozen sheep daily and began making cheese.

“We knew we wanted to go into cheesemaking,” recalls Cressida. “We discovered that goats weren’t suitable for us and we liked the fact that sheep are much lighter on the land than cows – they eat and drink less and their milk is very nutrient dense and excellent for cheesemaking.”

Their experience in the wine industry also piqued their interest in cheesemaking.

“When I was working at Tyrrell’s, I saw that they made a number of lines of shiraz which were all different,” recalls Michael. “Each wine reflected the soil of its vineyard – sandy loam or basalt or chocolate – and was distinctively of its place. You could taste that. Both Cress and I developed a deep appreciation of the notion of terroir – that something tastes a certain way because it’s a reflection of its time and place and characteristics such as soil and temperature and climate; that food has the capacity to tell a story.”

In 2008 the Cains purchased about 200 acres of land near the Southern Highlands village of Robertson.

“The area around Robertson and Kangaloon is some of the oldest and best dairy country in Australia,” says Cressida, “and we also wanted proximity to market. A significant barrier for many small producers is the cost of transporting your product around Australia.”

It took about five years of research and development from their first milking in 2005 before they were ready to sell their cheese commercially.

“In 2010 we submitted our Jamberoo Mountain Blue to the Sydney Royal Cheese and Dairy Produce Show and it won a gold medal – so we knew we had a great product. We began commercial operations the following year with Jamberoo as well as [mould-ripened] Bloomy and our fresh curd, which shows the incredible sweetness and creaminess of our milk.”

From the outset, Cressida and Michael knew it was important to target “the top end of the market as a boutique brand”. They also wanted to produce a raw milk cheese, even though this was not permitted by the authorities at that time. What drove them to achieve that?

“Our property has some beautiful cool climate rainforest, which was originally called the Yarrawa brush, crystal clear creeks and we have lyre birds, echidnas, wallabies and a diverse variety of insects,” Cressida explains. “This is all part of the ecology of the property – the way the soil works, the way the pasture grows, the health of our animals and therefore the health of the milk. We wanted to express all of this in our cheese and the way to express that best is in a raw milk cheese because it incorporates all those macro and micro factors. It becomes an expression of the landscape on the plate. There is a direct link to time and place. This also means that each cheese is different – it’s a snapshot of our farm at a particular point in time.”

Michael explains why production of raw milk cheese was not permitted in Australia.

“The science of cheesemaking wasn’t understood as well as it is now, so it was just easier to require all milk to be pasteurised. A conventional cheese is made safe by the milk being pasteurised. A raw milk cheese is made safe through maturation, through the aging process, which is just as effective as pasteurisation. We know this now, but it took the industry a long time to understand that.”

In 2016, after extensive research, Food Standards Australia New Zealand changed the regulations to permit the production of raw milk cheese. Pecora Dairy then worked with the NSW Food Authority to become the first Australian operator licensed to make raw milk cheese.

First produced in 2018, Pecora’s award-winning raw milk cheese is named Yarrawa, after the Indigenous word for the local cool climate rainforest. They also produce a raw milk fetta.

Pecora’s path to winning this year’s President’s Medal involved a rigorous examination that included several site visits, searching interviews and a review of the business’s current financial position and also its long term strategy. The judges observed the extraordinary natural attributes of the property as well as the investment in solar panels and batteries.

It was also important that Pecora had contributed significantly to the local community, including Kiama Farmers Market and the establishment of Pecora Cheese & Wine in Robertson.

“Our business is so much more than making cheese,” observes Michael.

In the two decades since they purchased their first East Fresian ewes, the Cains have faced many challenges – and that doesn’t include raising two children. In the past five years alone, like so many others, they have had to navigate the natural disasters of drought, devastating bushfires and major floods as well as the substantial impact that COVID had on supply chains and markets.

“There have been some incredibly tough times, but everything that is worthwhile involves hard work and we have worked unbelievably hard,” says Cressida.

In their first year of commercial production, Pecora Dairy made about two tonnes of cheese. Today they run around 200 sheep and produce about 10 tonnes of cheese, selling directly to consumers through Pecora Wine & Cheese and a small number of specialty cheese shops, while also supplying selected restaurants through a distributor.

The Cains continue to study and learn and they remain passionate about working together to build Pecora Dairy’s future.

“It’s our life’s work,” says Cressida.

For further information, visit pecoradairy.com.au

Joseph McGlennon possesses an entirely original visual language. He had trained in his youth at the National Art School before venturing forth into the creative world of international business. Back on his art tools, later if life, Joseph came to each series with ideas and images fully formed and mature. There was no undergraduate angst. His inaugural solo exhibition, Strange Voyage, in 2011 established visual, aesthetic and curatorial benchmarks and parameters that have influenced every subsequent artwork and series.

The consistent quality of his creative output is exceptional. Strange Voyage delved into the historical reality of the 19th century, when a mob of kangaroos were shipped to Kew Gardens in London. The Royal Family just loved wild animals besporting themselves in the gardens for their pleasure. The kangaroos froze to death. The underlying philosophical theme of the exhibition was the notion that some things simply cannot be uprooted and transplanted culturally.

McGlennon’s series Thylacine 1936 envisions the apex predators, the Tasmanian tigers, hunting and reigning supreme in their natural habitat. Often depicted atop mountains, the tigers are portrayed feasting on the carcass of an introduced chicken, with a tall ship visible in the background. Unaware of their impending doom. First contact between species, and for many species is utterly devastating. And macabrely enough, the Last Tasmania tiger, froze to death in Hobart Zoo in 1936 because a keeper forgot to house the animal overnight in winter.

Joseph’s photographs are beautiful, their message subtly powerful. Upon winning the most prestigious photography prize in the country, the William & Winifred Bowness Prize in 2015, artist judge Bill Henson commented on McGlennon’s practice, stating, “The work has an almost anonymous perfection that reinforces the fact that culture is never outside nature.” In a nutshell, across numerous bodies of work I would say that for McGlennon, Henson was spot on – culture and our impact is never above nature.

Numerous articles have been dedicated to the hundreds of individual images captured with McGlennon’s Hasselblad camera – to make a single artwork – which are skilfully woven together to narrate his poignant stories. The power of his unrivalled skills is without question. Many now blatantly copy McGlennon’s style. However, the flattery of imitation to one side, it is the ever roving and evolving scope of McGlennon’s practice that simply defies his peers.

Drawing on the primal tooth and claw drama of a 17th-century European deer hunt, reimagined in the New World of Colonial Australia, Joseph McGlennon recently began another extraordinary visual and technical departure from the orthodox rules of contemporary photography by paying homage to the great Flemish painter Frans Snyders.

Frans Snyders (1579–1657) made a significant contribution to Flemish Baroque art as a painter of animals, hunting scenes, market scenes and still life. One notable collection of his work can be found in the Snyders Hall at the State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg, Russia. Within Snyders Hall, a magnificent, indeed a heroic suite of massive oil paintings spill across the Cardinal red walls of one of the world’s great museums depicting elements from the wild hunt to the table feast. From the chase to the plate. Within the hall, you can read one of Snyders’ paintings as a stand-alone moment and a great masterwork. Or the viewer can take in the artist’s sweeping vision of each painting being a vignette or brief evocative episode to the whole of an expansive idea.

Individual photographs can spill over and build into a grander narrative across multiple fronts that form a larger creative whole. This use of multiple photographs to be read as one, or separately, is a landslide in contemporary world photography. Looking back across time, to march contemporary art forward, both in storytelling and the material viewing of an idea, McGlennon shatters the one image, one photograph orthodox delivery of a contemporary body of work. McGlennon’s hunt series is a pivotal moment in the development of contemporary photography.

With his Murrurundi exhibition, McGlennon very much wanted and asked for his new kangaroos to find expression outside of a metropolitan space. McGlennon wants the work to ground its paws in the very soil of regional Australia. McGlennon’s new series, Leap, captures kangaroos mid-air, symbolising resilience against wild colonial hunting dogs. The dogs remain just out of frame, but their urgency and presence can be sensed through the dynamic leap of the kangaroo. These creatures embody untamed beauty, reflecting the unwavering spirit of the Australian wilderness.

Through dynamic leaps, the kangaroo’s sinuous form becomes a living poem of fluid motion. Inspired by the ecological dance between predator and prey, Leap explores the delicate balance within this unique ecosystem. It serves as both a celebration of nature’s elegance and a poignant commentary on the challenges faced by early colonial indigenous species. Leap invites reflection on the human impact that is still needed for conservation in today’s fragile Australia.

Works from Leap by Joseph McGlennon can be viewed in his exhibition Culture is Never Outside Nature, a curated survey of arresting images drawn from several key bodies of work by the artist. The exhibition is now at Michael Reid Murrurundi and can be explored online here.

Collections
Artbank, Australia, Sydney
Australian National Gallery, Canberra
National Museum of Australia, Canberra
National Museum of Scotland, Edinburgh
Parliament of Australia, Canberra
St John of God Collection, Perth
Western Plains Cultural Centre, Dubbo
Newcastle Art Gallery, Newcastle

Series
2022 Culloden
2021 Pollen
2021 Silentium
2020 Awakening
2019 Morphosis,
2018 Eclectus Australia,
2018 Australian Bird Studies from McGlennon’s Audubon Folio
2018 to 2020 Ghost Ship
2017 Heavenly Fighters
2016 Florilegium, Michael Reid at 602, Melbourne
2015 Winner of the William & Winifred Bowness Photography Prize
2015 Skyestags, Edinburgh Fine Art Society
2015 Skyestags, Michael Reid, Sydney and Berlin
2014 Strange Voyage at Customs House, Michael Reid
2013 Thylacine 1936, Michael Reid, Berlin, Sydney
2012 Troopers
2011 Strange Voyage

On one’s first encounter with Los Angeles, it is all too easy to exclaim: “What the fuck, and why would anyone choose to reside here?” However, Los Angeles should be considered a region rather than just a city because it covers a vast area with very different constituent neighbourhoods and communities. If someone were to visit “Sydney” and spend their entire time only in places such as Rooty Hill or Marsden Park, they might equally wonder who would choose to live in Sydney. Nevertheless, the difference is that in Sydney, it is not too challenging to discover good, open, public and beautiful aspects of the city, whereas in Los Angeles, they are not immediately apparent, and the favourable aspects are not concentrated in any one location.

One key to understanding Los Angeles is that it lacks good public spaces, such as parks, town squares and forecourts – the types of places where people can stroll and actively engage with the city. These public spaces are abundant in “beautiful cities” but scarce in Los Angeles. Unlike cities such as Chicago, New York, Boston, Philadelphia and even San Francisco, which generally adhere to older European or British colonial principles of urban planning, with downtown areas featuring public parks and squares, sculptures of heroes, civic buildings, commuter rail connections to suburbs and working ports that eventually gentrify, Los Angeles largely exploded in the post-war era of the automobile and freeway. As the American composer, songwriter, record producer and pianist who is widely regarded as one of the most important and influential figures of 20th-century popular music, the magnificent Mr. Burt Bacharach, along with his often co-lyricist Hal David, conjured up in 1968 with Do You Know the Way to San José:

LA is a great big freeway,
Put a hundred down and buy a car.
In a week, maybe two, they’ll make you a star.

This automobile-driven focus for much of mid-twentieth-century town planning resulted in a decentralised city, where each person could have their own bungalow with a swimming pool and palm tree, like some large, calm, azure David Hockney palm tree-fringed swimming pool painting. This massive and fast-decentralised urban growth was quite different from cities like New York, where multiple families often share one building. Los Angeles prioritised private spaces over public spaces for gathering. An unintended mid-century social consequence was that, across Los Angeles, people traditionally entertained at home.

This social inclination led to some of the world’s most spectacular post-war single-family homes. With big budgets, perfect weather, abundant land and plenty of wall space for art, affluent and successful Angelenos created stunning architectural statements to positive, personal success – with the style result that almost all architectural schools in the world will spend some time studying post-war Californian modernism. For the most part, however, the world influence of this everyman’s American version of their home-castle remains hidden behind hedges and walls.

Another key to understanding Los Angeles is the money. California’s economy is poised to overtake Germany’s as the fourth largest in the world after the US, China and Japan. California has already leapfrogged Brazil (No. 7) and France (No. 6) in 2015 and surpassed the United Kingdom (No. 5) in 2017. Some estimates suggest the state may have already caught up to Germany, with at least one forecast implying California is ahead by $72 billion.

I stayed downtown at the Jonathan Club. Less of a traditional English club and more resort, the Jonathans, as they are known, have at their fingertips a beautifully tiled 1930s Art Deco swimming pool, full-size indoor basketball court, roof deck bars and garden, grand rooms and great service. They have a beach club – private, of course – at Santa Monica. Should you ever have the opportunity to stay at this private club, if only for a few days, do.

A late 19th-century Romanesque architectural confection that takes up the better part of a block, the club is a grand example of private LA at its best. The University of Southern California was founded in this club. The 1932 Olympic Games were run from the club. Ronald and Nancy Reagan appear on the club’s walls, as do Buster Keaton, General Chuck Yeager, Sandra Day O’Connor, Bob Hope, Arnold Palmer, Billie Jean King, Clint Eastwood and on and on.

Apart from major corporate offices, the central business district, Downtown Los Angeles, was abandoned for decades. It’s a bit of a zombie apocalypse. Some industrial areas within this region have recently experienced a renaissance as an Arts District. Galleries such as Hauser & Wirth have opened. This Arts District, extending for a few blocks around Hauser & Wirth, offers a walkable area with good eateries, galleries, and shops, primarily during daylight hours. The Southern California Institute of Architects, a major school, is located nearby and the area is often populated by students when classes are in session. This district was mainly populated by working artists fleeing places like Brooklyn between 2005 and 2015 and then fleeing all over again during the pandemic. It has also attracted hipsters who appreciate living in converted lofts in an artsy neighbourhood.

In downtown Los Angeles, you’ll find cultural landmarks such as the Broad Museum, located next to the Disney Concert Hall designed by Frank Gehry. These places play civic roles but are privately funded and owned. Nearby, you can explore the historic Bradbury Building at 304 S Broadway, known for its interior atrium featured in the original Blade Runner film. Across the street, Grand Central Market offers an interesting food court, which includes the fabulously named providore Eggslut (@eggslut). Eggslut, which since 2010 has grown from a humble food truck into a global, albumen-focused fast food game changer – LA, New York City, Tokyo, Seoul, London – is the first take-out stand that you greasy-spoon into, on visiting Grand Central Markets.

I am no Lonely Planet guide, so I will skip a region-by-region description of must-dos, BUT you should visit the Broad Museum and Getty. The Broad Museum was one of my most magical LA experiences. Big ticket artworks head-hunted for super big money by property developers and philanthropists Eli and Edythe Broad – who built shitty tract housing, but I won’t hear a word against them. For me the Broad ranks with The Frick in New York City, the Wallace Collection and Victoria & Albert Museum in London, and the Getty as my world favourites. Ohhhhh The Getty.

When I worked at Christie’s London in the day, I knew Tara Gabriel Galaxy Gramophone Getty well (yep, his parents did heroin) and stayed for many a weekend over the years at the family estate Wormsley Park in Buckinghamshire. Tara more than once enthusiastically offered to introduce me to his uncle, then a director of the Getty. I was always busy; I said no thanks. It was one of the great ongoing fuckwit moments of my life. The Getty is a hilltop art fortress of stupendous vision and, by now, I should have been the Director for at least a decade. Just saying. The Getty citadel has scattered across its mesa numerous art pavilions, each representing styles and centuries within world art history. Given the museum’s size and footprint, you could be forgiven, on first viewing, if you considered the architecture more important than the somewhat thin collection. Wrong. The collection is deep and one of the best. It is just scattered over the hilltop and somewhat difficult to picture as being the one big thing.

Amid all the joys of this sparkling, shattered Los Angeles Snow Globe, it would be remiss of me not to mention the next-level homelessness on the West Coast of America. Please see my earlier photo essay on New York City to obtain a roundup of some of the structural economic reasons as to why this is so. But suffice to say, homelessness in Los Angeles occurs with a casual frequency that would leave all Australians with a staring bewilderment. How can so many, with so much, ghost those with absolutely nothing. Mental health and an opioid crisis are significant contributing factors – from what I have experienced. But we would all agree the fourth largest economy in the world could do better. Much better.

Los Angeles Tips

If you are a member of an affiliated private club, take the opportunity and stay for at least a few days at the Jonathan Club, downtown.
545 S Figueroa Street, Los Angeles CA 90071

The Broad
221 S Grand Ave, Los Angeles, CA 90012

Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles
At 250 South Grand Avenue, across the road from The Broad, MOCA is almost quaint by comparison.
250 South Grand Avenue, Los Angeles CA 90012

Gallery Luisotti
This raw-spaced, Berlin-style photography gallery is a long-term and significant player in the market. Modest with a big visual punch.
818 S Broadway, 10th floor, Los Angeles CA 90014. Building door code: #4104

Hauser & Wirth restaurant/cafe
901 E 3rd Street, Los Angeles CA 90013

Los Angeles County Museum of Art
Architecturally as coherent and interesting as the splatter of dog’s vomit. They can, however, draw on one of the most interesting and diverse art collections and archives.
5905 Wilshire Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA 90036

The Getty
1200 Getty Center Drive, Los Angeles, CA 90049

All-day cafe Great White
8917 Melrose Avenue, West Hollywood CA 90069

Bergamot Station
2525 Michigan Avenue, Santa Monica, CA 90404

I went for a calm, delightful walk around the UCLA campus at Westwood.

Beresford enjoyed a happy childhood on a property in rural New South Wales.

“I was a really busy kid who lived outside and loved riding bikes, climbing, playing with our horses and chickens, always creating and making things.”

The property was only a few hours’ drive from The Snowy Mountains and her family would go camping there in summer while in winter they would ski at Mount Selwyn. So began a lifelong love of this landscape with its meadows, mountain rivers and snow gums.

When she was seven years old, her family moved to Sydney.

“My parents became really keen boaties. We’d hire yachts and go sailing, so I experienced the Hawkesbury from a very young age. I just loved being out on the water. It was how I was brought up and it was part of who I was.”

It was on these cherished sailing trips that she first learned to draw and paint.

“Mum liked being creative. She would take drawing stuff with us and I’d draw with her using charcoal.”

A seed had been planted and Beresford studied Art at school, including 3 Unit Art for her Higher School Certificate (HSC). She was inspired by the local bushland, walking and jogging through the Ku-ring-Gai Chase National Park whenever she could.

“There had been bad bushfires north of Sydney, so I collected charcoal and used it to draw with in my major work. I was pretty dedicated in Year 12. I used to paint at lunchtimes, which the Art Department thought was quite unusual. But I just loved it.”

After finishing high school “I wanted to do what I loved and I Ioved painting. It’s all I wanted to do. I wanted to go to COFA [College of Fine Arts] and fortunately I got in.”

She specialised in painting, drawing and printmaking and was inspired by tutors such as Idris Murphy. It was a wonderful three years but she laughs and admits: “I was partying far too much and just passed in the end.”

I’m in London still

After graduating from COFA, Beresford travelled overseas with friends. She bought a one way ticket “because I knew I’d be there a long time”. After six months of travelling she ran out of money and found a job in the ski fields of France before crossing The Channel to London, ready for a new challenge.

“A girl I studied with at COFA was working as a photographer’s assistant. She said: ‘Julz, I’ve found this great career for you – food styling.’ I said: “What’s that?”

Her friend gave her a brief description and Beresford decided it was a great idea.

“I visited the local library and went through food magazines. I made a list of all the best food stylists that were busy and in the good magazines. I found their phone numbers and just rang them.”

This old fashioned cold-calling soon produced results.

“I was really lucky,” she says. “I worked with some of the best food stylists in London, giving me a great foundation in the industry.”

Busy in her new career, her art was placed on the back burner. She would draw or paint occasionally in her bedroom “but nothing consistent, which you need to do to get better”.

Creativity calls

Beresford returned to Australia after eight years abroad and set up her career as a freelance food stylist. As time passed, however, it became increasingly apparent that this career wasn’t creative enough for her any longer. She decided to limit her work as a food stylist and paint as often as she could in her garage.

She summoned the courage to post some of her paintings on Instagram and these images attracted the interest of Amber Creswell Bell, Director Emerging Art for the Michael Reid galleries.

“Amber kindly offered me the opportunity to exhibit in a group show and that led to an invitation to participate in A Painted Landscape, a group exhibition at the Michael Reid Berlin gallery in late 2020.”

She participated in two more shows the following year at the new Michael Reid Northern Beaches gallery before being invited to hold her first solo show, in March 2022, at Michael Reid Northern Beaches. This was followed by solo exhibitions at Michael Reid Southern Highlands in November 2022 and Michael Reid’s Sydney headquarters in January 2024. All three of these solo shows sold out.

On the water

Beresford’s Sydney home is about 10 minutes from Cottage Point, a secluded Sydney suburb of just 50 homes that is less than an hour’s drive north of Sydney. It sits serenely at the junction of Cowan and Coal & Candle Creeks and is surrounded by the beautiful bushland of Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park. This is Beresford’s favoured base for exploring the Hawkesbury River and, as a regular customer, she is welcomed warmly by the staff at Cottage Point Kiosk and Boat Hire.

She usually books a tinny for two or three hours “but I often lose track of time and am out there for longer and have to apologise. There is something very peaceful and restful about being on the water. You are on your own, miles from anywhere. There is no mobile phone reception and you can really tune into nature. It’s like a release for me, being on the water. I feel alive, I feel amazing.”

Asked if she has any favourite spots, she replies: “I love being in a little bay with a hill in the distance. And I love the shadowy side of the Hawkesbury. There is always a sunny side and a shadowy side and I stick to the shadowy side. I like its moodiness and the depths of colours you can find. I’m really interested in colour and every time I go out it’s different because of the light, the time of day, the season, whether it’s rained the day before. I want to find the uniqueness of that day.”

In the studio

With her gouache field studies around her, Beresford gets to work.

“I am quite expressive in the way I paint. I’m very physical. It’s a fast, back and forward, back and forward, on the painting, off the painting, joyful and intense time. And I paint wet on wet, alla prima. It’s all about the moment, trying to convey the energy of the place and, I suppose, my relationship with it.

“I always scratch and draw in the composition, putting in the darker tones and building up. I use a brush for most of the early stages – I put on and take off, put on and take off – and I love keeping those brush marks visible in the painting.”

Beresford’s use of a palette knife “goes back to my food styling days of icing cakes and getting the cream perfect. I love the yummy ooziness of the oil paint and I use a medium to thin them out a bit and give them that luscious, velvety feel.”

Not everything will go to plan but Beresford revels in the problem solving aspects of her craft: “That bit’s not right, fix it; and that bit’s not right, fix that – it’s constant.”

Even during this brief visit, her passion for painting is evident.

“I am really focused when I’m in the studio,” she admits. “I literally fall into a trance. I have to set an alarm because otherwise I forget to pick up the kids from school.”

As Time Drifts on a River’s Path

Beresford’s latest exhibition, titled As Time Drifts on a River’s Path, features paintings from the two regions she has had a close relationship with since her childhood and with which she still has a deep connection: The Snowy Mountains and The Hawkesbury River.

“I tend not to paint the Hawkesbury all year because I yearn to improve my trade and I believe to get better I need to shift gear to a different landscape. It’s important for me to jump around a little bit. It keeps me alive and makes me really think about what I am trying to achieve.”

And what is she trying to achieve?

“I am always questioning myself, asking if I am expressing the feeling of the place when I paint. I want to capture the moments when I was on the water or the magic of the mountains. I want to remember the way I held the paintbrush while I was out there ‘plein air’ because it felt right. Each painting has its own story.”

Pieces of paper attached to her studio walls have handwritten notes reminding her to “express the purpose of place”, “celebrate the paint” and “lose yourself in the moment of expression”.

Remarkably, Beresford has only been painting full time for three years. She has built a strong following and is looking forward to the future with her characteristic calm yet energetic determination.

“I’m totally addicted. I can’t get enough of it. I know the only way I’m going to get better is to keep practising, to keep working every day. It’s who I am now.”

As Time Drifts on a River’s Path will be showing at Michael Reid Southern Highlands until 24 March.

Fast forward to 2023 at Carriageworks, the cavernous 1880s railway workshop turned multi-arts cultural precinct in Eveleigh that is home, each September, to the art fair Sydney Contemporary. Arriving early, wearing the mandatory yellow vest as cherry pickers whizzed down aisles and gallerists put the finishing touches on their stands, I was thrilled to see a group of Wiggan’s Ilma inside the main hall.

Presented by the Brisbane gallery A Secondary Eye, they were arranged like brightly coloured totems between double doorways, each one taller than a person, painting and sculpture and performance art all at once. I thought about them after the fair and read up on Wiggan, who created his Ilma outside of their original ceremonial context for institutions and private collections as a way of preserving them for future generations. A sage move if I’m anything to go by, having met them halfway around the world on the thick stone walls of Il Convento before running into their colourful cousins at the fair.

Indigenous works feature prominently at Sydney Contemporary. Utopia Art exhibited giant canvases by Western Desert artists such as Bobby West Tjupurrula, George Tjungurrayi and Joseph Jurra Tjapaltjarri, alongside a striped painting by Emily Kame Kngwarreye. Roslyn Oxley showed the work of a single artist, Yolŋu woman Dhambit Munuŋgurr, whose dynamic bark paintings and larrakitj (hollow poles) stood en masse in otherworldly shades of cobalt blue. Another Yolŋu artist, Gaypalani Wanambi engraved images of trees, delicate and folkloric, onto the back of discarded yellow metal road signs for Michael Reid Sydney + Berlin, in a mixed hang with paintings by Betty Chimney and Regina Pilawuk Wilson and a massive quadriptych by photographer Dr Christian Thompson AO.

Now in its 10th year, Sydney Contemporary is Australasia’s most dazzling art fair and 2023 was no exception, with the work of 500 artists exhibited by 96 galleries from across Australia and the world. It’s not Frieze or Art Basel; you could probably knock a couple of zeros off the average price of a work. Although in many ways, therein lies the charm: Australian art is affordable. And Sydney knows how to throw a good party, with champagne or Campari bars around every turn.

I ran into my old friend David Robinson – David has lived in Bangkok for many years and was instrumental in establishing Thailand’s first portrait prize in 2021 – who was at Sydney Contemporary with American collector and portrait prize judge, Tom Van Blarcom. I asked Tom what he thought. “I’ve been three times and have thoroughly enjoyed it. It isn’t stuffy like the other fairs; it isn’t riddled with attitude – or at least not too much, it is the art world after all! But for the most part, the galleries make you feel welcome. At fairs like Art Basel, the attitude should be cut into small white cubes and sold in the gift shop. Frieze Seoul is going on right now but I’d rather be at Sydney Contemporary. Great art and It’s more fun. I’ve bought three pieces so far and am mulling over two more.”

For me this year’s fair was looking only, although I imagined what I would have bought had I been cashed up. Monochromatic works on paper such as Godwin Bradbeer’s Performance Suite 10, Homage to Stelarc #2 at James Makin Gallery, and the wall of Tiger Yaltangki’s Malpa Wiru (Good Friends) at Alcaston were definites. Wiggan’s Ilmas and a lineup of Dhambit Munuŋgurr’s exuberant bark paintings for sure.

I’d design a whole room around the monumental canvases by Virginia Cuppaidge at Nicholas Thompson Gallery, including the six-metre-wide Cytheria, a delicate gradient of yellow to lilac and orange marked by the odd Miró-like line; and another room for Archie Moore’s suite of skin-coloured shapes alongside Box Sculpture by Augusta Vinall Richardson at The Commercial. And hard to say no to one of the blocky Anthony Gormley sculptures at Galleria Continua from San Gimignano, an exciting addition to this year’s fair.

So much talent and too much terrific work to list, although I keep thinking about Gaypalani Wanambi. On install day, I was hanging out at Michael Reid’s stand as Toby, Daniel and Will positioned art, ready to hang. Among a flurry of levels and drills, frames and bubble wrap, I saw a couple of battered old road signs leaning against the wall. With so much construction paraphernalia whirling around I wondered where, between the hard hats and cherry pickers, they fit in. Peeking behind, Wanambi’s sublime etchings were revealed. A moment of pure joy – much like rediscovering Wiggan’s Ilma.

Built in 1916 (the 1872 original was destroyed by white ants), the classroom doors were shut for the last time when students finished their lessons in 1991. It meant that the kids of Gundy went further up the road to Belltrees Public School or travelled into Scone for their education. For several years the fate of the little school near the heart of Australia’s thoroughbred capital hung in the balance.

But five years after the closure, a young promising winemaker came along and decided to buy it. Iain Hayes had grown up in Scone, spending his formative childhood years in a house which is now part of Scone Grammar School. “His dad Harry used to joke that Iain had a thing about schools,” explains Caroline, nearly three decades later. “And our daughter Prunella, who finished at Scone Grammar last year, likes to say she had her music lessons in her dad’s old bedroom.” 

Iain, who grew up next door to Tyrrell’s Glenbawn Winery, had “jumped the fence as a teenager to ask for a job” and was reluctant to move too far away from his much-loved work. (He spent 27 years at Tyrrell’s, eventually rising to the job of chief winemaker before the vines were ripped out in 2012 after the property’s sale to Segenhoe Horse Stud.)

“Iain was looking for somewhere within 20 minutes drive in case he got called in at night during vintage,” explains Caroline, who grew up in England and had moved to Australia in 1988. “He had been to a Gundy Ball, which is still an annual event here in November, and thought it was a nice community. Then the school came onto the market and he thought it was a unique proposition.”

Sitting on a two-acre block right in the centre of the little village and up the road from the Linga Longa Inn, the property came with “the school building, the teacher’s residence and the weather shed”. and the long drop toilet in the paddock. 

But the soaring ceilings and blank canvas of the empty classrooms captured Iain’s imagination and so began a lengthy journey of restoration – and it’s one that isn’t entirely over. The first phase was to make the school rooms liveable, so a new kitchen and bathroom were installed. A weather shed, where school children once sheltered from the rain, was enclosed to create guest quarters and a major extension to the school was done in 2005, adding three bedrooms, a second bathroom and of course, a wine cellar. The most recent project was renovating the next door teacher’s residence in 2021/22.

One of the main challenges the couple faced was finding the right tradespeople.

“Luckily, I did find a man right across the road who had the skills that I needed to fix old timber sash windows and he was able to strip down old doors and windows,” she says. “We also wanted to make it authentic and to give respect to the existing features while trying to stay within the existing footprint of the house. And of course, nothing was level or straight!”

This painstaking work is beginning to reap its rewards. In July the Hayes opened the school to the public as part of the centenary celebrations of the Gundy Soldier’s Memorial Hall. Several former students and even a teacher came to see what the new custodians had done with the school. “It was lovely to have them see what we had done. The teacher had of course lived here for about six years during the 1980s and knew the place very well,” says Caroline.

Clearly community is central to this couple’s lives. When Caroline lifts her head from weeding the vegetables in her garden beds, she can see another building right next door that plays an important role in the community – the Gundy Rural Fire Brigade shed. Today, she’s an active member and Iain was once the captain for several years.

“I love the sense of community we have here – people look out for each other and work together. It could be to raise funds for someone in hardship or to improve our facilities,” she says.

Look in the rear-view mirror as you drive into Gundy, and clouds of dust hover above the road. Mobs of cattle gather around gates waiting for a bale of hay while horses push their heads through fences to pick at patches of feed. These dry brown paddocks are a clue to another important part of Caroline’s work. Until recently, she was the State’s Rural Resilience Program Coordinator with the Department of Primary Industries and now works in farm succession planning.

While Iain’s winemaking days are behind him, you are likely to enjoy a glass of Hunter Valley semillon around the Hayes dinner table. (It’s a variety that figures in another school tale, now part of the family folklore. “Prunella was asked what her favourite drink was when she was at preschool and she said “semillon”! Luckily her teacher knew us well!” exclaims her mother.)

The Australian bush is a far cry from the English landscape of Caroline’s childhood, but in the end this small village has captured her heart.

“I love the bush and I have wonderful walking tracks right from my door. No matter that I often walk the same route, there is always a different perspective dependent upon the weather, the time of day and the season,” she says. “It has been a wonderful place for Prunella to grow up.”

And finally, what’s your advice for others embarking on such a restoration?

“Double your budget and your timeframe”

The Old Gundy School House and Weather Shed are available to rent.

For more information, contact Caroline on telephone (02) 6545 8017; mobile 0427 813 336.

Caroline and Iain Hayes’s Address Book

A few Scone favourites feature on the Hayes’s list plus a special section on local building trades, because after spending the last 27 years renovating, off and on, they are in the know!

Hunt A Book

Well known for their personalised service, this bookshop is right next door to another Scone shopping icon – Potter Macqueen. “They stock a great range of books, puzzles, toys and more and are always happy to order something in for you,” says Caroline.

200 Kelly Street, Scone, NSW. Telephone (02) 6545 9330.

Hunter Belle Cheese

Now owned by the Chesworth family, who were 6th generation dairy farmers in the Hunter, these prize-winning cheesemaker’s products are stocked throughout the Hunter. “I love unhomogenised milk and theirs is the best,” explains Caroline. “We always provide complimentary Hunter Belle milk for our guests. They have a lovely cafe and shop on the northern end of Muswellbrook.”

75 Aberdeen Street (New England Highway), Muswellbrook, NSW. Telephone (02) 6541 5066.
hunterbellecheese.com.au

The Linga Longa Inn

This popular pub is an easy walking distance from The Old School House. “They do great food, and we always recommend all of our B&B guests to go there,” says Caroline. And what would she recommend on the menu? “The duck spring rolls!”

2 Riley Street, Gundy, NSW. Telephone (02) 6545 8121.
lingalongainn.com.au

Potter Macqueen

As the sign out the front of the shop says, “Scone, since 1968”. This retail institution is a must visit and much loved by Caroline. “It’s the perfect place to find a special gift or piece. My purchases over the years range from hand painted lamps to luggage, outdoor mats, baby clothing, doorstops, ornaments, special toiletries and so much more.”

200a Kelly Street, Scone, NSW. Telephone (02) 6545 1858.

Pukara Estate

With 20,000 olive trees on a property near Denman, Pukara Estate had their first commercial harvest in 2003.

“We love the Novello unfiltered first press when it is bottled each harvest,” says Caroline. “They are my favourite olive oils and they now have a store in Muswellbrook.”

39-43 Bridge Street, Muswellbrook, NSW. Mobile 0427 847 603.
pukaraestate.com.au

Special Local Knowledge

Builder: Tilse Building Hunter Valley

Steve Tilse and his team worked on the renovation of all the buildings on the site, starting in 1996 and most recently in 2021/22. “They have been instrumental in all that we have done and achieved with the Old School. Having trust in your builder is essential and we have been blessed,” says Caroline.

40 Gundy Road, Scone, NSW. Telephone (02) 6545 1709.

Painter: Daniel Spokes, DPS Painting & Decorating, Scone

“Daniel deserves 5 stars. He and his team meticulously stripped and painted the outside of the Old School House and it looks amazing.” 

tkwdo36@icloud.com
Mobile 0499 143 108.

Scone Mitre 10

“Frequently visited, especially during renovation times, they have been a wonderful supplier of so many things. Dan has always had lots of patience and advice for my endless questions regarding DIY.” 

40-42 Guernsey Street, Scone, NSW. Telephone (02) 6545 2511.