I’m not going to attempt a eulogy for a bonafide National Treasure. It’s a huge loss and I’m simply not qualified.
You can find that on The Age website if you follow the following link, but I can share a few instances where Michael’s art has touched me to the point of being skin deep.
Without Michaels prolific cartooning and books I don’t know whether I’d be here today.
That sounds terribly trite and dramatic, but discovering his work in the early 80’s as a very confused teenage soldier way out of his depth, was a blessing.
For me his art connected like nothing I’d seen or read before. Whether it was Mr Curly and his duck or his poetry and observations on the state of everyday life, I got it.
I devoured his books and found an almost spiritual connection with him. It would be years before I heard him speak and he met every expectation I imagined.
Michael was kind, humble and passionate. Lynda and I saw him about ten years ago at the Recital Centre and that huge mop of white hair was almost angelic!
He certainly had a reverential manner but he wasn’t afraid to be controversial when it came to challenging some of the most appalling events that occurred around the world.
That concert at the Recital Centre was a band put together by Sydney vocalist Gyan. She wrote and sang songs interpreted from Michaels huge poetry catalogue, while Michael drew his cartoons on stage and had the drawings projected on the big screen. It was Leunig utopia.
In 2002, Brian Brown produced an animated series on DVD of Leunig’s characters voiced by Sam Neill and Julie McGregor amongst others.
On my first date with Lynda I cooked and she arrived with this exact DVD. Now why she did that is still contentious. Perhaps she thought that if the date went south quickly, the film would be a distraction so she could make a quick escape? I don’t know, but it was strange that she brought it with her not knowing anything about my affection for Leunig.
In the mid 80s and not having been to WA for a few years due to moving to Melbourne and being time poor, I flew my parents to Melbourne for a trip to see myself and my older sister Pam on Phillip Island.
I took the folks into the city one day and we walked into The Wilderness Society shop where I found a Michael Leunig designed windcheater.
The design was First Nations inspired and had ‘Dreaming’ written at the bottom. It had an instant appeal and my mum insisted she buy it for me for having paid for their flights. This is it alongside an old army buddy Keith.
I still have it today, albeit a bit moth-bitten. Mum reminded me that it was the only ‘new’ thing she ever bought me, so be thankful and look after it. Thanks mum.
After a couple of years I wore the windcheater so much even my friends were demanding that I should consider a wardrobe upgrade.
So after never getting a tattoo during six years in the army, I committed to having Leunig on my shoulder. I went to tattooist James Brown (real name) in Ascot Vale and lay the windcheater on his pool table.
The giant tattooist turned from serious face to child as he screamed, “Oh wow, Leunig!”. Three hours later ‘Dreaming’ was attached forever.
A few months later I received a phone call from a journalist at the Age. Apparently an Age photographer had taken a photo of the tattoo as I was walking off North Port Oval at halftime of a VFA game and wanted to do a story on it.
I was reticent because I thought I’d be insulting Leunig but he reassured me they had spoken to him and had got the all clear.
So the same photographer and journalist appeared at our next training session and the story hit the back page of the Sunday Age. Titled ‘The WOW Jones Award for Football Tattoos’ it was embarrassing for a while and I deservedly copped it from team mates and opponents alike.
The surprise came a couple of weeks later when I received a signed copy of the above photo from Leunig in the mail which in an odd way reassured me that the tattoo was now certified for life. The framed photo now sits proudly in our office at home.
Michael Leunig was a prolific and authentic artist. He was a humanitarian and had an affinity with the working class and disenfranchised Australians better than any politician or media outlet. His commentary occasionally offended some but reality TV offends me and life goes on. 🙂
Even though his work is lauded by art aficionados and glitterati, Michael was a boy from the western suburbs of Melbourne who approached life and art in his unique way and with total conviction.
He will be greatly missed.
