“Auki, Solomon Islands”, 1989

James Brown

“Auki, Solomon Islands”, 1989

Pencil and watercolour on heavy Arches watercolour paper

Size: (sheet) 14.4 x 22.1 cm

This small study of a few local stores in Auki, the capital of Malaita in the Solomon Islands, was created after a visit to the bustling fresh produce markets, where I bought some betel nuts to sample later in the day. I mention this purchase because it perfectly encapsulated my mindset at the time (1989)—a longing to immerse myself in the exotic world around me and to document my experiences.

For those curious about my first—and only—experience with chewing betel nuts, I can confidently say they are not my “thing.” Nonetheless, I was fascinated by the custom of consuming them with a pinch of slaked lime, all wrapped in a betel leaf (which I had purchased separately). The result was a mouth stained blood-red, stark white teeth, and an overall yucky feeling. However, it's important to recognise that this taste test unfolded within a cultural context to which I felt somewhat disconnected.

During my stay, I was warmly welcomed by a local family in one of those iconic palm-frond huts perched on stilts beside a serene lagoon. While I was treated like a cherished friend, I did feel somewhat out of place in terms of my appearance and understanding of local customs. For instance, I was gently advised against wearing my usual red T-shirt, a colour considered inappropriate and possibly even "taboo." I quickly learned that the family’s totem was the shark and that wearing red was deemed disrespectful.

Looking back at my drawing, I realise that the scene is not as devoid of people as I have portrayed it. The street intersection was actually teeming with activity. Also notably missing is a sign advertising ice cream—something that remains vividly etched in my memory as I painted under the scorching midday sun, longing for a cool sweet treat.

“Waters of Kiu”, 1989

James Brown

“Waters of Kiu” (Malaita, Solomon Islands), 1989

Oil and pastel on canvas

Size: 86.3 x 91.7 cm

Nearly forty years ago, I embarked on a remarkable painting expedition to an isolated village near Oibola in Malaita, accompanied by a wonderful friend and talented student, Anita Zerner. In those adventurous days, I relished the opportunity to dive into the unknown, serving as Anita’s chaperone during our weeklong stay with a local family. This experience would become one of my most memorable.

Our adventure began aboard the local overnight ferry, where we found ourselves nestled below deck among a sea of bodies, desperately trying to catch some sleep amidst the chaos. The cramped conditions were somewhat disconcerting, yet filled with the excitement of what lay ahead. On the night of our arrival, I was invited by a family member to travel with him in a dugout canoe equipped with an outboard motor to fetch supplies. Eager to share this experience with Anita, I suggested she come along, only to be met with a hushed “no” and the warning that it was too dangerous—we could easily hit a submerged log while navigating by moonlight. They lowered their heads at the thought, leaving me to ponder my own insecurities; although I could float, I was not a proficient swimmer.

This painting is set in the local lagoon, where coral can be seen through the crystalline water. The family we stayed with had been painstakingly collecting stones and coral from the water for generations to create their own small island—an incredible project that filled me with admiration. This little island became my painting paradise, a tranquil haven far removed from the busyness of everyday life, enveloped in the soft sounds of nature. It was here that I found inspiration, like a modern-day Robinson Crusoe (at least in my own mind).

"Wallaman Hillside," 1989

James Brown

“Wallaman Hillside”, 1989

Oil on canvas, 60 x 80 cm

At the time I painted this reasonably small oil, Isabelle, her husband, John (now sadly passed away) and I were making reasonably frequent weekend camping trips to the Wallaman Falls (Girringun) National Park that is about a three-hour drive from where Isabelle and I now live. It is a magical place with sensibly shy platypuses living in the creek near our campsite and the famous waterfall, Wallaman Falls—the highest, permanent, single-drop waterfall in Australia—a short car ride away. What made the place extra special for me, however, was the bracing mountain air with its rich aroma of forest-floor mulch and the trail along the creek where I made the painting. Thankfully, the park has no nasty critters  … apart from the occasional march fly whose sharp bite can compel one to seek retribution against the fly, a few snakes and many large (almost hand-sized) but virtually harmless golden orb spiders.

From a technical perspective, I initially used fairly dry brushstrokes that were later scraped from the canvas with a palette knife, and reapplied the brushwork using the accumulated scrapped paint on the palette knife. This reapplication of paint allowed me to abut strokes as if I were creating an image reminiscent of marquetry.