Bruce Pollard

Bruce, you were such a big and loving part of my early life. A steadfast friend to my Mum Dawn (Maggie) through the hard years of single motherhood, you opened your family to ours.

I felt so completely at home in your presence and consider my time amongst you all a golden part of my life, for which I remain deeply grateful.

That gratitude includes my friendship with Michael, whose place on Earth and in my heart I have you to thank for also. Fishing, hiking, driving to the coast and back, long hours spent imagining and talking and thinking about the next burger and milkshake - these remain golden within me.

The unforgettable Pinacotheca was the beginning of my interest in art, and your interest in my little kid thoughts was part of the foundations of how I think. Your steady warmth of gaze and ear and mind, were such powerful forces; I am proud to be among the many who were affirmed and shaped by them.

Ness, Dawn and myself, and Lauren and June, offer our deepest respects, our thanks for your many forms of generosity, and our heartfelt condolences to beautiful Michael, Steph, Elise and Joseph.

Joe

I probably first met Bruce and saw Pinacotheca Gallery in 1974. I exhibited between 1975 -1988. It was a beautiful building and visiting was a novel experience. Climb the industrial steel stairs at the end of Waltham Place and ring the bell, Bruce would open the window in the flat on the top floor , peer out to see who it was , then drop the key out of the window. We’d let ourselves in and listen to Bruce climbing down the wooden stairs, then he would turn on the lights. After we’d looked at whatever exhibition that was on , we’d have a chat with Bruce, while the sun streamed in. (usually). Parties there were very enjoyable , with Nani’s lovely cooking and hospitality. There were two notable dates I remember, one was the total eclipse of the sun where we were on the steel steps and landing. Richmond briefly went dark, and the birds went quiet for a short time. The other one was when we were upstairs watching an election, probably when Whitlam was voted out. At the close an artist said “The party is over!’ Which was prophetic, that party was over, and a new one was started . It is very sad that Bruce and Pinocotheca have gone, but memories remain. It very nice to see the photos of Bruce, Michael and his family and Nani. That period of my life was one of my most interesting and enjoyable, and I did like the way he ran the gallery. It looked as though he enjoyed the life in the Otways too , although I only saw Bruce a couple of times in recent years.

I am indebted to Bruce and his contacts for taking an interest in my artwork. When I was nineteen in 1970 I held my first one man show at the second version of his Pinacotheca gallery after it had moved from St Kilda to its new premises in Richmond and over the years since then there were several other times when I exhibited there. Look forward to seeing Trevor Fuller finish that book he says he is writing about the Pinacotheca.

Bruce was a towering figure in the world of contemporary art in Australia and beyond for such a long, long, long time. He was a great and inspirational mentor, way above and beyond exceptional, reaching even if uncomfortably into the domain of life-changing for his artists. He was both brutally frank and warmly empowering at the same time, giving his artists a compass and a lodestone. He was deeply respected across the world and his enormous gallery was one of the most important, pathfinding and dramatic places to exhibit the most exciting and unpredictable developments in art anywhere in the world from the end of the 1960s onwards. His enthusiasms were not at all predictable nor limited to a particular direction in art, nor to any one look or style. He held the first exhibition of Conceptual art in Australia but as well showed a consistent series of exhibitions of artists who are sometimes called Outsider or Outlier artists, and also the wry, cryptic paintings of his friend Robert Rooney and the first exhibitions of the new 1980s neoexpressionism, with Peter Booth's huge, nocturnal dreamscapes, not to mention Rosemary Gascoigne's mural-sized collages of roadsigns To me and Lyndell he was deeply and unforgettably generous. For three remarkable years we lived upstairs in his eyrie-apartment, high above Pinacotheca Gallery, when the family moved to Brighton for Michael’s schooling, and we lived amongst Bruce’s unforgettable collection with the enormous studio he cleared for us to use for our paintings, with a quiet office for me to write in, where I drafted the first versions of my book Peripheral Vision: Australian Art 1970-1995, where you will find descriptions of his gallery, accounts of many shows there, and photographs of a few of the vast number of landmark exhibitions. See lyndellbrowncharlesgreen.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2023/07/Chapter-1_Off-the-Wall-and-in-the-Air.pdf He lives on in our lives as a man of unforgettable, resonant importance to us and many, many others.

I often found Bruce sitting near the front door of his gallery, donned in his usual corduroys and playing solitaire with his cat sunbathing nearby. He was frequently chasing out stray cats who had a habit of running into the gallery and spraying it and running out (performance art?).
Bruce was a great conduit of information about the art world and the artists and collectors in it, particularly those who were not behaving well..
I last saw Bruce by chance at a cafe in Bridge Road a few years back and he was relaxed and happy. He told me that he was spending most of his time at his home on the Otways pursuing his interests in field recording. It was probably the warmest reception he had ever given me and a good last memory.

Dear Bruce,

We are so sad to say goodbye, but also so grateful to know you are resting peacefully. We love you and we miss you.

Thank you for being such a wonderful father-in-law to me and a brilliant 'Poppy Bruce' to Elise and Joe. Always curious and fascinated by the kids, it was lovely to see you enjoying them over the years and the simple joy you brought to one another when together. They remain fascinated by the stories of your life and the adventures you shared with them. You are a huge presence in Michael's life and a dearly loved father to him. This long goodbye has been hard and as I said to you, we are here for him.

We miss your arrival from Johanna armed with a variety of folly-farm grown produce, native flowers for me, newspaper clippings to discuss, curiosities discovered, sometimes art and always a container of loose change for the kids. We shall also miss hearing your robust debates with Michael. Whether economic, philosophical, environmental or political... they were always considered, passionate and respectful.

We will cherish the fun adventures with you at Johanna which always resulted in the discovery of a few 'treasures', watching you kiss your kangaroos good morning and traipsing up and down the hill in over-sized gumboots.

Rest well dear Bruce.

Steph x