New Epoch Notation Painting uses a written score to separate the act of image composition from the process of making a painting. The score acts as the subject and not only contains instructions on what to paint, it enables the composer to add meaning to the chronological progress of the paintings. The score coordinates the act of painting, but allows performers to contribute their own mannerisms, so no two performances can ever be the same. Until now, most visual art was a solo affair, now visual symphonies are conceivable. The notation system used in the score is the world’s first high level conceptual language for pure visual imagery. It takes half an hour to learn and a life time to master.

Being painted today is “Parade”, a New Epoch Notation trio performed by “Extended Vision” in support of marriage equality for the LGBTQ community. The simple themes derived from gender symbols move through a succession of transitions before their final embellishment with the colours of the rainbow flag.

Development of the score

Female Theme – Stencil art work
Male Theme
Male Theme – Stencil work 60 x 50 cm

“Parade” First complete performance November 2017

Performance of “Parade” at the “Not Fair Art Fair” 11-11-2017


NEA – Street Art


In all artists lies the need to be appreciated. We don’t create in a vacuum, so to not have an audience to bounce off and give feed-back, makes the creative process rather maddening. After all, is not recognition the measure of success? Or at least that is what we are led to believe. I find success an elusive concept as well as attribute. Something the young are primed with, that wry “when I’m famous” sentiment, that can be laughed away. Now that I’m older, and seemingly no closer to any kind of measurable success, it just isn’t funny anymore. I have bills to pay and mouths to feed and I spend all this time creating art works only for them to accumulate in my studio/garage. I am guilty of not networking, of not making the most of my opportunities when they arrive and so the pattern is perpetuated and self doubt swamps self belief. I kid myself that there is some nobility in being a failed artist, but it is the sting of rejection that represents the ultimate road block.

Despite a positive reception at The Belconnen show, it concluded with my feeling somewhat disillusioned. It seemed like traditional avenues were no longer what I wanted to pursue and I began researching street art, finding much cross over with the purpose and intent of early Extended Vision performances.

Street art has emerged in recent decades as a significant force in contemporary art expression. A movement defined by its embrace of hybridism rather than by its adherence to prescribed boundaries. The urban environment then becomes integrated in the conception, purpose and display of the art works – it becomes the new canvas. Museum and gallery art has become largely about preservation of the art object and adoration of the anointed ones. Street art attacks this idea, born of a need for artists to engage with the emotions of the audience in a direct and powerful way, uncluttered by art theory and esoteric conceptual frameworks and wearisome middlemen. It is this desire for accessibility that drives its conception. While street art is identified as being ephemeral with scant consideration for the durability and longevity of the piece, it still relies on the artefact to carry its message.

When I first came to Canberra in 2005, the bus shelters with their unique circular design were one of the signature features of the place – one of the things that helped distinguish the city from others I had lived in, Melbourne and Brisbane.  I was told to expect manicured lawns, white picket fences and lots of round-abouts, apparently indicative of the political machinations in our seat of power. The thing that struck me was how small the city is. I remember passing a five-story apartment block and thinking “wow, that’s the tallest building in Canberra! Of course there is Black Mountain Tower, another land mark and veritable light house for those of us who are directionally challenged. It was quite a relief really to think that I could navigate from one side to the other in 45 minutes, half the time it took me to make it home from work in a Brisbane evening amongst the traffic crawl on Gympie road at peak hour. As for the picket fences, well there weren’t too many of those, but with a shortage of housing came rows and rows of identical display homes huddled together in new estates slowly eroding the nature reserves and remnant farm land. Every place you live in gets under your skin eventually, if only through association with significant events in life, and I’ve had four of those since residing here – four beautiful children. I guess they are genuine Canberra kids, despite my feeling of misplacement.

I continued to experiment with stencils, not so much as a means of delivering the image directly to walls, but as a way of generating large quantities of work that could then be used as paste-up street art. Although what I soon called my “Canberra Bus Stop Exhibition” featured a variety of imagery, significantly those relating to Asylum Seekers, many of the works also had a thematic basis.







“Flowers” Sray enamel on paper 60 x 50 cm. Most of these were pasted up in bus shelters around Canberra in 2012,

“Flowers” 2013 Paste-up
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Push Me Pull You – 2013 paste-up
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Composition – 2013 Paste-up


New Epoch Art by Extended Vision


“Dreams Big Like The Sky” 2012 Acrylic on canvas 190 x 250 cm
“Little Ships of Arcady” 2011 Acrylic on canvas 80 x 70 cm
“Bedtime Music” 2011 Acrylic on canvas 160 x 120 cm (Private Collection Canberra)
“Bedtime Stories” each 15 x 15 cm Gouache on paper
“Far Away Tree” 2011 Gouache on paper 60 x 40 cm (private collection Canberra)
“Fiddle” 2011 Acrylic on canvas 80 x 60 cm
“Formation” 2012 Oil on paper 80 x 150 cm
“Little Treasures” 2011 Acrylic on canvas 100 x 130 cm

“Flower” 2012 Acrylic on canvas 30 x 30 cm each


“Nexus” performance 1 of a duet score composed by Baden Johnson and Euan Graham 2006.

The first “tag team” score emerged in 2006. Baden and I sending 4 turns at a time by post until 4 complete scores were realised. The first of these was adapted to become a performance ready duet composition. Baden conducted a number of public performances around Melbourne of this score which marked the beginning of the “reunion” of Extended Vision.

Nexus by Baden
Baden Johnson’s original studio performance of Nexus 2006 Acrylic on canvas
Euan Graham’s First performance of Nexus 2009

“Nexus” was performed by Baden Johnson in a number of locations including the “Bannock Burn Show” in 2009 and in the “Off The Curb” Gallery Melbourne 2010.

Baden performing “Nexus” at the “Off The Curb Gallery” 2010


NEA composition, composed by Euan & Baden 2006. Painted by Baden, Tiahna & Sam



Divergence Part 1 – Baden Johnson


By the end of 1993, Baden Johnson returned to painting the landscape, utilizing aspects of thematic form and merging it to greater and lessor degrees with more traditional depictions. He also kept exploring performance art and developed a show incorporating New Epoch Art as well as physical theatre comedy. Baden had a passion for performing and after appearing in school plays had determined that he was either going to pursue an acting career or painting. That was the great appeal of New Epoch Art performance, being a platform where he could engage with both simultaneously. Toward the end of 1993 he became involved with Saint Martins Youth Arts Centre in South Yarra and work shopped some performance ideas with a young dancer looking to combine large scale NEA compositions with physical movement – constructing the paintings on stage incorporating painting, dance and assembling a stage set. It never got beyond about early planning stages but it had opened the door for Baden to look beyond “Extended Vision” in combining painting and theatre. His work at that time was exhibited at St Martin’s as “Recent Themes” works he described as inspired by Peter Graham’s Western Port era Notation paintings.

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In 1994 Baden used New Epoch paintings as props in a comedy act he developed for the Melbourne Fringe Festival performing at the National Theatre in St Kilda. In the 600 seat venue his 15 minute act used paintings as props to help tell the story of the tribulations of a starving artist. I didn’t get to see the show but Baden played me a video that impressed. In a short space of time he had honed his stagecraft and held the audience at attention. When he introduced his painting “Search” and then proceeded to place it against his face hand out in front as if above his eyes in the manner of a search, the audience responded with hearty laughter. In this way he managed to take his painting to a larger audience in a most unique fashion.

This experience in turn drew him toward participating in the stand up comedy circuit around Melbourne where he got paid gigs alongside the likes of Dave Hughes; Elliot Goblett and Merrick Watts culminating in an appearance at the 1995 Melbourne International Comedy Festival at the Melbourne Town Hall in a show called “Mixed Bag”. He worked night shift as a cleaner to afford the time during the day to develop his stage act. This endeavor came to an abrupt end on the eave of the 1996 Comedy festival with the death of his grandfather, an event that triggered another change in direction and he once again returned to the studio to develop new landscape paintings again incorporating thematic line and a series inspired by the John Lennon song “Across The Universe”.

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In 2000, Baden and I exhibited at the Charles Smith gallery in a show titled “woodlands and Wastelands” combining Baden’s lush green plain air paintings with my “hungry country” landscapes of central Victorian sheep paddocks. The show was well received and pointed once again to future collaborations. Personal loss of significant family members once again disrupted Baden’s course, but with his late mothers encouragement to keep painting, he once again embraced images of the landscape, but now with a broader focus on themes surrounding globalisation and our exploitation of natural resources.

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After seeing an exhibition by the New Zealand artist Colin McCahon, Baden painted religious paintings using abstraction and text on large scaled unstreatched canvas. “I wasn’t religious but I like the way he (Colin McCahon) told religious stories through painting. So I made a series of works that were later destroyed and recycled for my next series of landscapes. I did create a score from one of the paintings. An eye for an eye. They looked more abstract expressionist due to the scale, despite being purely thematic.”


The Inside Place

To start a painting is rather like trying to remember how to feel normal after a prolonged convalescence – you can easily get lost in the change to routine. To approach it with false confidence can lead to action before thought, but a timid approach can be an equally troublesome impediment. Forgetting, or failing to remember how you have done it previously, was an entanglement I found myself in regularly. It is quite exciting; in the way the idea of the finished work shimmers before you in its incorporeal luminescence, tempting and drawing out a hunger to make it real. Slumped in my painting chair, I would entertain these machinations surrounded by the confusion that was the rest of the studio; buckets, rags, paint pots, bottles and brushes. A dry pastel trodden into powder, everything left where it was last needed, like a collection of idle thoughts or misplaced ideas. The floor becomes a landscape of haphazard activity, as big a mystery as an impenetrable forest or the feelings of another person. Sometimes the most perfect idea can be better preserved as a dream canvas, not polluted by the disappointment of having become real and falling short of expectations. The act of painting then is best realised as a semi dream state, the finished work relating to private explorations styled to protect the vulnerability of the creators dream.

To begin with, the first marks are often possessed with violence, destroying the perfect white surface by shattering its quiet possibilities with a slosh of colour, every action correcting its predecessor and adding substance to the emerging image. Black lines follow shortly as if being traced, creating new spaces bleeding outward where wet on wet. A heavy impasto is next, scraped on with broad and determined gestures wielding a palette knife. All the other things belonging to the outside environment are taken in, absorbed by the dream and reconfigured to meet the needs of this new reality. Gentle night rain taking me back to an earlier time, a vision of myself as a boy, sitting by a window watching rain drops accumulate, puddle then spill to form broken necklaces of the sky’s tears. Other memories of creeping around corners into the dark unknown, fumbling for a light switch whilst bringing to life foul images dredged up by creep shows and a zealous imagination. Remembering my father, in jest, being dragged away by the neck, ‘no bogey men in here son’ – an unconvincing remedy; and the long haul to my upstairs bedroom nervously whistling to quell the growing sense of panic – the dark room, fear of the unknown, of the rupture of illusion. The canvas also needed the lights turned on, and a real connection to be made between dream and solid matter. Not in the way that a telephoto lens captures the minutiae of a scene, but by way of feelings that quiver at the touch of a foreign object, take it in then lay out in some altered fashion, the life I experience. It is through this searching that one learns to paint again, divorced from boundaries and rigid conceptions to the cry of the painting is dead, long live the painting!



Throughout 1994, a new interest in composition emerged, emancipated from the language as prescribed and explained by my brother Philip. I say this not in disrespect, for without Philip’s enormous efforts, there would be no New Epoch Art. I began looking at the numerous prototype scores left by my father and in some cases tried to interpret them using my knowledge of his work as a guide. ‘Childs Play’ was based on a pictographic fragment which simply indicated themes and basic divisions on the canvas. I chose colours reminiscent of the Children’s Corner suite, and crafted a sequence of turns that also owed much to the scores we had been performing over the years. Other attempts to spontaneously interpret my father’s scores included ‘Gardens of Eros’ 1977; Square Exercise in 3 primaries; Flower Piece and ‘4 quarters of the moon’.

The most successful of these was ‘Study on a Grey Ground’, a piece contemporary with and closely related to ‘Portrait of a Square Split’. I arranged it as a companion piece to the latter, a tangle of themes reminiscent of a graffiti wall contained within darkly glazed borders. In revisiting these early developmental scores, I was attempting to recapture the spirit of investigation concerning the form of the language and its short-hand.

Study on a grey ground


"Car Alarm" Duet Composition performed in February 1994
“Car Alarm” A composition from February 1994 which specifies an improvised final turn joining both basic planes together and creating a shape across both canvases reminiscent of the subject – either through restatement plane work or the introduction of new themes.

left “watching Rainbows” a simple thematic exercise for beginners and right “Mirror Mirror on the Wall” a rough idea for a duet composition based on an non objective self portrait completed in 1993.

Non Objective Self Portrait

“Oranges and Lemons” was the first time I had tried to create a composition with a musical accompaniment. The idea was that the turns would be roughly timed to the duration of each segment of music. My recording equipment was primitive and so the project remained in a state of semi completion but working drawings, strange recordings and a complete duet score exist. I was in a state of flux living between my new home in Newstead, and the old workshop at Canterbury. I took some work as a store-man and packer at my brother in laws workplace owned by his father so as to contribute to paying my way, affording cask wine and rudimentary materials to spend all-nighters  painting and recording in a dim attempt to emulate former triumphs.







Baden and I had met up on a few occasions in 1994 searching for a suitable venue to hold a show. This involved gallery crawls across the Melbourne CBD into every artist run space, cafe and “wanna be” commercial prospect. Nothing seemed to be suitable or we were met with a luke warm reception. Out of this new initiative grew my first ideas around how we could continue to collaborate in a meaningful way moving forward. I envisioned a series of projects, where set topics were established and each artist in turn responding with a composition high lighting the difference in each of our approaches. I saw value even in our time of hiatus to continue to develop new scores in accordance with our separate studio practice.


“Change of Scene” Single B.P composition from June 1994 based on the view from my window in Newstead.
A River So Deep
“A River So Deep” was not intended as a completed score, more as a sketch for a proposed composition, as were many of the “short hand” scores written at this time.

A RIver So deep

The first major New Epoch work I completed post Extended Vision was ‘The Impromptu Suite’ in the Christmas of 1994. This was a set of 9 separate single basic plain compositions that mark a shift in my interest in the process of composition. Each score was entirely composed before a single sketch was made, only a quick extension of the theme to ensure its viability. The scores were conceived without preconceptions of subject or appearance using only imagination to grow the works with my knowledge of the effects of paint as a guide. In performing the scores, I then remained strictly faithful to the original notation, but acknowledge that adjustments at this stage may be necessary to ensure a working composition. I wanted to establish different modes of composition that shaped and influenced the way a score comes together. Earlier methods I referred to as ‘Study Composition’, where a performance is conducted simultaneous to the notation being written, a score as you go approach. The ‘Impromptu composition’ being an immediate expression of an idea, directly notated excluding formative performance. I saw this as being akin to plene air painting. ‘Analytical composition’ I thought of as being the most advanced form, incorporating representational studies of a subject, and synthesising themes and structures via a detailed process of analysis and evolution, in much the same way as my father derived themes from clouds, banksia and she oak for his ‘Westernport Garden’ series. Other ideas included the ‘Homage composition’, where a score may be derived from existing art works, a reinvention of an old master.

The Impromptu mode of composition was of most interest to me. The idea that a painting, completely written may utilise an aspect of imagination not always brought to the fore in conventional methods of visual art so reliant on a process of trial and error. The image one starts out with when preparing a fresh canvas, is rarely accurately realised by painting’s completion. It is subject to the complexities and vagaries of execution. A pristine score can capture that first vision, making the notating of an idea a complete act in itself. The ‘Impromptu Suite’ falls short of being a pure original glimpse, the works remaining heavily influenced by established practices and conventions. The scores arrived like guilty pleasures, sneaking past the guard of my current preoccupation which remained the suburban environment, now viewed at a distance from a studio in paddock. They became a touch stone to return a sense of lineal progression and add to a concerto with notes remembered from notation unheard. However I felt they represented an uneasy groping back to an earlier, more familiar manner. This made me uncomfortable, and it became a mission to produce a fully composed image that bore no resemblance to the works we created in the early years of Extended Vision. This was important to me, as I saw it as true testament to the viability of this form of art; to be able to out-grow the vision and aesthetic values of its creator. It was not enough to remain ‘in the manner of’, because this was only ever going to have a limited appeal. While Extended Vision was moving toward the educational prospects of the language, I was more interested in what it had to offer to other artists.

“The Impromptu Suite” 9 separate compositions composed in November and December 1994, this performance also being completed at that time.

Impromptu !

Impromptu 2

In this performance of a single part of “the Impromptu Suite” I show the painting at each stage of its progress.



“Windows” is another fully realised composition at this time completed and performed in November 1994. Although still in an impromptu mode, the main difference between the two parts is colour variations in keeping with earlier methods of scoring. In this way, this could be expanded to become a trio or quartet quite easily, or to have an unending set with subtle variations, all intended to make up a single work in completion.










In my attempt to uncover a New Epoch art work that could live in its own fashion separate from the influence of earlier expressions, I looked at the role of themes and plains that define so much of the appearance of previous compositions. I developed the idea of ‘Rhythmic Variations’, which involved the placement of a new symbol either in the restatement section on the staff or to the right of the basic plane indicator to augment the statement of themes. When observing my father’s thematic artworks, subtle variations of the themes emerge to varying degrees. This might be due to the learnt traditions of improvisation. His New Epoch works are in many ways an impression of what he imagined notation paintings to look like. Variations in the statement of themes may also be attributed to human error, but it is these aspects of performance that preserve the performers right to impart personal style, to add a personal aspect to the interpretation of a score. My idea of Rhythmic Variations was to allow the stated theme to provide the basic components, which would then be reconfigured upon each statement, creating a more literal and radical approach to variations on a theme. They can be used to emphasise certain shapes that may be evocative of subject matter, or be purely non-objective i.e. all curves or all angles. It is the rhythm inherent in the performance of those components that remains a constant rather than precision and consistency in their configuration. I perceived that my approach to manipulating the traditional theme and plain work relationships had become calcified, locked into a set of prescribed aesthetic judgements. In the four part composition ‘Abstract Rhythmic Variations’, thematic components have been reduced in complexity, replace by these Rhythmic variations, in this case presenting as plains that seek to find certain repetitive formations created by the initial thematic statement in a way that compliments and builds on the thematic structure. This composition, also falling into the impromptu category started its life intended as an evocative expression depicting bird songs. This was a subject featured in my father’s first tentative movement toward an abstract idiom in the early 1950’s. It again found expression in the large canvases ‘Wild Flight Call’ and ‘Crow Cries’ for his first one man show at Gallery A in 1960, and again in a lyrical water colour which formed the basis for the composition ‘Sun Hi Midday’ in 1982. I came to see the depiction of bird song as filling the same niche in New Epoch Art as the still life and nude study do in traditional forms of painting.

Ten non thematic sketches completed as a lead in to the “Rhythmic Variations” composition

“Rhythmic Variations” Performance 1 1995
Rhythmic Variations
“Rhythmic Variations” 1995 Mixed media on paper. A second performance of these four compositions.


“The Gift” was the last composed work in this set of exercises completed in August 1995.

At the conclusion of the ‘Neighbourhood Watch’ series in April 1995 I commenced work on a large number of drawings and paintings based around interior settings and still life arrangements. These gradually evolved into a new series entitled “The inside Place’. In these paintings, I was exploring the interior environment in terms of both physical and psychological space. I invented a kind of hieroglyphic language (related to thematic structure but not adhering to its parameters), that sought to illustrate life style systems and daily routines – aspects of living in and around things, places and various states of being; a cosy framework and habitat to eat, think and dream in. A house needs keeping like a dark pet, taking on the feelings of its inhabitancy. Dark corners glow fiercely in imagination, leaving one frightened by the last thoughts before sleep. Having indulged in the experience, and of course remembering vividly, childhood insecurities, the aim was to capture the mood and to delve beneath the surface appearance of the utilitarian object to discover some deeper significance. To achieve this I tried to create images that could be read like a book with layers of meaning imbued with subliminal content. I was influenced by the opaque prose of Patrick White that seemed to suggest fathomless depths of human perception and the exquisite pain of existence; also the music of Joy Division, a seminal rock band of the post punk era that pulses and taps into a subliminal consciousness, evocative of the emotions that swell against the structures of a controlled environment. ‘The Counting House’ is a good example of how I employed the use of different windows to indicate various states of thought and insight.

“The Counting House” Acrylic on canvas 1996 140 x 120 cm
“Alarm Clock Rescue” 1996 Acrylic on canvas 120 x 150 cm
The Little Ease of Anxiety 1996 Acrylic on canvas 180 x 210 cm

In March 1996 I picked up the threads of my composition experiments again, preoccupied with the idea of trying to bridge the gap between “The inside Place“paintings and my new epoch work. To achieve this I decided to create new symbols and experiment with the format of the score. Again, I had no intention of dismissing the language as it stood; I just needed to satisfy my curiosity, it was necessary, for me to take ownership of my work in this field. My intention was not to create a new system for others to use, but to throw open the language and examine its components for myself in order to determine what may need to be adjusted or added – the process leading to my most radical departure from conventional thematic imagery. The “Inside Place” Notation was a score using these new symbols that indicated different modes of thematic derivation and subject observation. It includes direct analysis of the subject made as an integral act of interpreting the score – some themes and motifs were created during the performance. It was not my aim to create a score suitable for public performance. It is a studio study into the nature of the language and its effect on the process of composition and interpretation of the score. The Inside Place Notation involved the cognitive and physical statement of primary and secondary themes, with restatement in the form of Rhythmic Variations that were derived from direct observation of the raw subject matter, the interior/ still life arrangement.








“The Inside Place Notation” 1996 Acrylic on canvas




Creating a work of art involves making a connection between the past and the present and the manipulation of this information to construct a new event. Tradition and the physical influence of the present effects the decisions we make, but with notation, a third element enters the equation and we are free to place greater emphasis on that aspect conscious of an audience. Because of this element, that to a degree anticipates the future, freedom of artistic expression can be given a new autonomy but without having the weight of tradition defining its purpose. A performer may choose to adopt an approach for a performance like an actor takes on the idiosyncrasies of the character portrayed. It is not necessary then to continue to stretch the boundaries of what is perceived as art in order to be accepted as new and challenging. Great performances of the future may be distinguished by their spontaneity and inventiveness whilst remaining within the parameters of the notation. Much the same way as Shakespeare is reinterpreted from generation to generation adopting the lens of the prevailing social discourse of the times whilst remaining faithful to the original intensions of the author. I believe this says as much about the period we live in as does the passing fads and fashions and sometimes more, for it remains central to the cultural traditions of the community. My father made the distinction between composed art by gaining and understanding of the nature and function of existing visual art practice. He wrote:

“the act of painting has constantly been seen as visually complete in itself and the ‘subject’ of the visual arts were always derived from the dominant cultural beliefs of their contemporary period, it became a historical artefact in the process of its completion.”

The act of public performance takes on additional significance when we consider that it is the best way to enable the audience to experience the physical manifestation of the creative process. To see the craft skills of the artist shape the art works before them holds a certain fascination and enhances the communicative power of the experience of engaging with a visual image. The audience are left with the memory of the stages of the performance as well as its conclusion. Music, despite recording technologies transforming the nature of its exposure, still attracts a ‘live audience’ to experience the warmth and energy of a performance. There is also this interplay between artist and audience the one feeding off the other and acting as a catalyst for interpretive acts sympathetic to the immediate environment. All of this plays a part in the shaping of the art work and in the formation of a special empathy that has always been treasured by artists and audience alike.

I feel that it is important that a composer not become trapped within the conventions of the language, as if shut inside a solid slab of sleep. It is the ability to reinvent one’s self and transcend the obvious that expresses best the full potential of any language. This again places the stress on New Epoch Notation as a tool to help facilitate greater inventiveness utilising the scope of all the performers who bring their unique knowledge and skills to an interpretation. This truly enables the creation of paintings no one single person could possibly execute. A painter often feels that completion is never achieved by the last stroke. Seen through eyes picking and probing for fault, art works remain in a perpetual state of reassessment. What seemed great at the time may become drab and insufficient with the accumulation of knowledge and skills. For the notation painter, this dilemma finds its expression in more concrete terms as in the act of performance and reinterpretation. A theme or subject may be subject to countless variations and modifications in time, and a score to ongoing editions.

In 1998, I experimented with batik techniques, wax-resist dyeing applied to cloth using thematic form. I was desperately searching for a sustainable means of income and it seemed sensible to consider the design potential of New Epoch Art as one course to pursue.





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score design notation


To judge the merits of a New Epoch composition, a new set of criteria needs to be employed, a distinct act separate to the assessment of the completed paintings. Even a simple and unremarkable composition may engender a performance of outstanding finesse and virtuosity, just as a brilliant score may be performed badly. The ability for a composition to be accommodating of the various painterly idiosyncrasies of the performer is one factor. This involves getting the balance right between interpretive notation and prescribed acts. Consideration of how the paintings look at the end of each turn became the key ingredient for me in realising a successful performance set. It was this idea that first stimulated my awareness of the difference of composed art. Where my father spent much time considering the theory of a composed art, I went on to look at the way composition relates to performance, especially in a public setting, because this allowed me to reflect on my experience base. It is of great interest to me to gain some understanding of just how a language for painting may influence the nature of the art works created, remaining mindful that it is most importantly a tool, not just a gimmick. As my father wrote sometime late in 1986…

“A new instrument will not necessarily make better art of greater value than an old one. New means, new language, methods are tools of the mind. What is achieved with tools is entirely the prerogative of humanity. So when we talk of ‘Notation Painting’ I prefer to describe it as a mode of thought rather than a mechanical method of application”.

 “What was not wanted was a mechanistic method, or a highly structured system that impinged upon the long-practiced values of the visual artist. The freedoms and skills of visual artists are unique to their studies. The many years of practice that may or may not enable them to develop a personal style are not to be treated lightly or discarded, nor the individual’s sensitive visual approach to the poetry of the eye. It is not the intention to substitute some magic touchstone or golden pathway that all may tread, but to present a useful tool that will free the artist even more, to compose, to paint, and to enjoy the pleasures of visual art…”

I keeping with these sentiments, my paintings of the central Victorian landscape surrounding me gradually moved further and further away from a graphic depiction toward capturing something more essential finding simplistic themes derived from old iron wheels and barbed wire.

“Unknown Bush Ritual” 2000 Mixed media on paper 70 x 80 cm private collection Castlemaine.
“Primitive Bush Feelings” 2000 Acrylic on canvas 60 x 50 cm






Following a very vivid dream I had in November 2000, I composed a duet composition “Dream Canvas” The paintings belonged to a new version of “Extended Vision”, maybe a future version, and were being painted amidst spotlights and curtains on a grand scale with a seated audience holding their program score and talking quietly amongst themselves.





This collection of visual ideas may be a decorative abbreviation of an important body of work, but it is what I managed at there time, and it will always remain a work in progress. Just as my father picked up and put down again and again his work on New Epoch Art theory, and the challenges involved in devising a new system of notation, I have periods where it becomes my most important focus for a while, juggled with my broader preoccupations as a visual artist. I can imagine a future where we open the first school for New Epoch Art and form a broader collective in the international arts community; where scores may be shared and interpreted by people of different cultures, as a means of forming partnerships and communicating in the spirit of artistic pursuit. The arts in all their forms have an immeasurably humanising effect on people and they play an indispensable role in the life and evolution of a culture. It is for this reason that New Epoch art has much to contribute, as a method and a tool designed to promote inclusion, understanding and appreciation of visual art in the wider community.

This is a young society still. In a thousand years time, the 1980’s may be barely distinguishable from the whole of the 20th century and that from first settlement. We are still making our myths and it is through mythology that societies form a sense of collective identity. Artists play a pivotal role in this process, as story tellers, mirrors and visionaries projecting toward a future where values are merged with progressive aspirations. The way societies imbue myths with feelings and attitudes in turn becomes one of the deepest sources for creative expression.















My father perceived the role of artists in the future to be that of champions of sensitivity, charged with the responsibility of extending the sensibilities of the willing audience. He believed that it was art forms with a live performance aspect that managed to engage the audience in a most lively fashion, and lamented the many miscommunications and misconceptions society held of the isolated artist toiling in the seclusion of a private studio. With the assertion that art is in fact a cognitive process, not an object to be bought and sold, he recognised the potential for New Epoch Art to navigate around the distortions of commodity-based values, and allow a direct and immediate communication between artist and audience. He believed that a language for painting could provide people with terms of reference and help educate them to the intricacies and skills involved in the creation of non-figurative art works. A way to combat the ‘my 5 year old could have painted that’ attitude used to so easily dismiss that which is misunderstood and to bring people closer to the experience and intensions of the visual artist.

Although I had an intuitive understanding of New Epoch philosophy stemming from the life and culture of my family, I am not confident in explaining in detail the broader concepts of my father’s theories on art. I new something of their implications, and had accumulated my own body of knowledge surrounding the practical application of the New Epoch language, but in many ways I had allowed myself to be guided by the concepts without dwelling on their full profundity. This was a position I held because I believed that my best art was going to come from an intuitive place, unshackled by the chains of theoretical argument. One does have to come up with succinct answers of course – why, how and what is it all about? Questions I answered to the best of my ability when performing in public. It is hard to counter a negative view with just a paint brush and canvas to illustrate your arguments, and there were times when I felt undermined by the absurdity of the situation. The additional reality that many of our performances and scores were probably not the best ambassadors, but were the best we could conceive at the time made the challenge greater again. It is for this reason that I believe it is important to make a clear distinction between a ‘workshop rehearsal’ and a ‘formal performance’. The former will always seek to involve the audience in the performance, which is largely what ‘Extended Vision’ was doing during this its first phase.

I remember fierce arguments at art school defending a position against ‘art for art’s sake’ and the notion that nothing is new, only a rehash of that which has come before. I had difficulty in articulating my arguments, because they were so complex and hinted at a profoundly different idea about the role of artists in our society than was being presented to me. This was perhaps my reason for holding the secret of my involvement in NEA so carefully through my years at art school. To disclose it would only open myself to ridicule I did not feel confident in defending against. But in the exclusion of Newstead, and separate from Philip, I felt confident to undertake my own investigations coming from the perspective of a studio artist divorced from the pressures of having to perform.

Although I could not appreciate it at the time, I realise now that it was a very rare set of circumstances that gave us the motivation and the time to form Extended Vision and conduct performances with such intensity, originality and passion. Our youth, our family bond and our dedication to the project were of equal significance. We had no business plan as such and we had no clear objective, other than to further the cause, to learn through experience and to ensure that New Epoch Art did not die with its inventor but continue to grow toward the realisation of its full potential.

Jan martin held one more exhibition of my father’s drawings and paintings aside from including works in the occasional group show, and displaying the collection she had in house. This final exhibition was on the theme of the bird and the bird watcher, mounted in 2000, six years after Aspect 3. The show was eclectic, gathering works from the 1950’s and placing them along side his late imagery, a time when he equated the symbol of the bird with the fragility of the natural world. This idea was most poignantly expressed in the image ‘Little dead bird under the sun’ and reiterated in the important late drawing ‘Still Life with Dead bird and tree felled landscape’, a precursor to the frightening paradise destroyed series that depicted a post nuclear apocalypse. My father was fascinated by the idea of the bird’s eye view, and some of his most exquisite water colours again took up the theme of bird songs, only now they seemed to resinate with a sense of foreboding with an awareness of his own mortality.

“The Bird” Peter Graham 1985 Water colour on paper 90 x 110 cm
“Birds Eye View” Peter Graham Oil on Canvas 1985 160 x 150 cm

The show received little attention from critics and the public alike, and Jan was forced again to refocus her energy. She set about the task of selling a significant early oil, ‘Peter Lalor Addressing The Minors’ to the Ballarat Regional Gallery, already steeped in the history of the Eureka Stockade and boasting the original flag of the southern Cross. Finally a success, and with the sale, and a new director Gordon Morrison pursuing a progressive agenda, came the promise of a regional gallery retrospective that had been first mooted so many years earlier. Jan always insisted that it would take 20 years of persistence to gain acceptance for the art of Peter Graham. Sadly, it was shortly after this milestone had been reached that Jan herself died of cancer, excitedly pondering which pictures might be chosen for the Ballarat show. In her final conversation with my Mother, she reaffirmed her belief in the work saying ‘It stands up, it’s so good’. Without Jan’s credibility to back us up, enthusiasm for the Ballarat retrospective dwindled until Gordon Morrison finally pulled the plug on the project, citing a lack of resources as a reason. This is funny, because few artists could boast the wealth of human resources that my family has invested in the preservation of my father’s legacy. It may have been circumstance, or an innate reluctance to self-promote that held my father back in his life time. The disappointment, despite his lofty ambition, became ingrained in him and in turn shaped my families concept of such things as recognition and success. It has established an us versus them discourse which is neither helpful nor healthy. While my father’s works largely remain in storage, their presence in my heart, and the potential they hold resinate deeply within me, like an unwritten book, or a symphony yet to be heard by the audience it deserves. If success be measured by how popular, or how widely known ones art work is, than I wonder if there isn’t some nobility in being a failed artist. Jan Martin often asserted that Peter Graham was a pure artist, following the path of his innate creative urges. This meant that he produced an enormous variety of art works spanning several genres. In an age where artists gravitate toward a stylistic fix, a mode they become identified by and which is seen as strength, my father’s career unfolded in an unorthodox fashion, and one that was endlessly in pursuit of invention and discovery.