Concrete Playground

The Archibald is to art writers what a solar eclipse is to human vision. Without fail, it captures the attention of art journalists all over the country. Some writers quickly articulate their dislike and even distrust of the prize (perhaps there is elitism here?). Other writers are like moths to the flame, keen to interject on any controversy that prevails. This year, that controversy seems to be circulating around the number of female artists (just seven) that have been selected in the final spread.

I wonder what JF Archibald envisaged of the prize way back in 1921. From the outset it has been controversial; stoushes have gone on over definitions of portraiture, subject matter and the profiles of the artists themselves. But try to ignore all that. These are artistic depictions of those deemed to be important Australians, by some of our most distinguished painters. Winning turns someone’s life on its head, and at the same time sends the price of their work through the proverbial roof. This year that person is Sam Leach (who also took out the concurrent Wynne Prize for Proposal for landscaped cosmos) with his portrait of comedian Tim Minchin, topping a list of 34 finalists whittled down from 849 entries. Go down to the AGNSW, have a look, and pick your own winner.