Pomp and Peculiarity: How Two Portraits Epitomized the Repute of Two Eminent Australian Economists

Abstract

Economists, it seems, should be guarded about having their likeness taken for posterity. The end product is not as predictable as the legacies they leave behind. This article discusses such possibilities with the two portraits undertaken by two different artists of the leading figures of interwar and postwar Australian economics.

Keywords:

• portraits
• Giblin
• Copland
• Dobell
• Wheeler

1. Introduction

Economists should be wary of having their portraits painted. The outcome is invariably as unpredictable as the economic forecasts they make.

In 1946, the two titans of the Melbourne School in economics during the interwar years, L.F. Giblin and his protégé, Douglas Copland, agreed to have their portraits painted (Isaac 2009, 79). It was thought appropriate to honour each of them by commissioning separate portraits. Interestingly, each portrait was completed by two different artists at about the same time, with each funded by donations from private citizens. However, the real story of the two portraits is about how both works were funded, about the controversial choice of artist for Giblin’s portrait and of the separate reactions of both sitters.

2. The Unexpected Logistics of Portraiture

As it turned out, Copland’s replacement as the Sidney Myer Professor of Commerce, Gordon Wood, was involved with the task of organising public subscriptions to fund both works. The idea of a portrait of Giblin was conceived by Copland and Leslie Melville, the Economic Advisor to the Commonwealth Bank. It was an unusual tribute at the time. However, one can speculate that Copland possibly got the idea while visiting Cambridge in 1933 when he met Mary Marshall sitting under a portrait of her husband Alfred in the Marshall Library.¹ They prepared a public letter to solicit donations from those who had known or encountered Giblin over his multi-dimensional and eventful life. By contrast, the Copland portrait was a more modest undertaking led by Wood and organised under the aegis of the Victorian Branch of the Economic Society of Australia and New Zealand. Most of the donations came from staff at the Melbourne Faculty of Commerce, and the Graduates Association along with some Melbourne business associates of the faculty. It was Wood who made the choice of the Melbourne portrait artist Charles Wheeler to undertake the work. Wheeler had won the Archibald prize in 1933 and painted in a traditionalist academic style.

The choice of William Dobell as artist for the Giblin portrait was ostensibly taken by a five-man committee, but it was Melville and Copland who orchestrated it. The Giblin portrait was presented to the University in May 1946 while the Copland work followed three months later. At one stage, Wood, as the new Dean of the Faculty of Commerce, envisaged a joint unveiling of both portraits but circumstances prevented this.

In December 1946 both portraits were hung side-by-side in the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery to remind patrons that it was in Hobart that these two men first made their mark; Giblin, as a Labor party politician and then, after World War One, as the State Statistician and economic and financial advisor to the Tasmanian government; Copland became the University of Tasmania’s first professor of economics and the first Dean of the Faculty of Commerce. At that exhibition it was observed that patrons gazed more intently at Dobell’s modernist portrait than they did at Wheeler’s more academic rendition of Copland. A similar occurrence had occurred earlier that year at the Archibald Prize exhibition in Sydney where patrons were seemingly magnetically drawn to Dobell’s portrait of Giblin rather than the academic-style portrait of the Governor of Victoria, Lieut.-General Sir Edmund Herring K.B.E., D.S.O., M.C., E.D. by William Dargie which was to win the prize.²

In a sense, the different reactions to the portraits of Giblin and Copland would confirm to some, at least, the standing of the two economists within the Australian economic profession. That is, Giblin was regarded as the far greater theorist of the two even though Copland was regarded as the builder and promoter of the profession. Even Copland conceded that Giblin was the natural leader of the Australian economic profession (Macfarlane 2019, 171). Wood always felt that Copland had not been given his due for proposing a mix of policies to extricate Australia out of the great Depression. especially his advocacy of devaluing the Australian exchange rate; an expedient which even Giblin initially did not agree with. This mix of policies was sometimes dubbed the Copland Plan but became more popularly known as the Premiers’ Plan.

3. The Vanity of Copland

In May 1946 Copland, as the Australian Minister in China, confided to his former Melbourne colleague Wood about the recently unveiled portrait of Giblin. While the portrait demonstrated good technique, Copland observed that ‘I don’t like it and would be very upset if it were mine’. It was an interesting disclosure as Copland had chaired the committee that had approached Dobell to undertake the portrait. At the time Giblin was 73 and although built like a prize fighter with distinctive bearing he was clearly ailing. He was known for his eccentric clothing, jackets without lapels, hob-nailed boots, a penchant for wearing a red tie declaring his socialism and for clenching a pipe between his teeth.

Sir Douglas B. Copland, Charles Wheeler [not dated]. The University of Melbourne Art Collection. reproduced with permission.

While ruminating over the Dobell portrait Copland inquired about his own portrait which was being completed by Wheeler.³ Before he went to New Zealand to visit relatives in January 1946 Copland sat for Wheeler musing that ‘it had been a great rush and I hope the picture won’t show too many signs of it’.⁴ When Copland was shown the developing portrait, he thought it

very good and perhaps a little flattering, but I do not know that I would be the best judge. As a matter of fact, I thought it would be better than any of the portraits entered for the Archibald Prize. But there again, I would not consider my judgement on these matters much good.⁵

This was an odd comment because Copland would have been aware that Dobell had entered his portrait of Giblin entitled ‘A University Professor’, to the 1946 Archibald Exhibition at the National Art Gallery of New South Wales in Sydney. But, having now seen the finished Dobell portrait, which was briefly on display at the Commonwealth Bank Building in Sydney before being despatched to Melbourne, Copland had more time to reflect. It was, he said:

a remarkable piece of work. The posture and the clothing and the general impression are pretty correctly portrayed. The technical skill of the painting is of a high order, but I cannot see why the artist needed to distort the face below the eyes. At first it gives a most unpleasing impression, but when you look at it long enough, you see Giblin behind it and the less pleasing features of the distortion seem to disappear. I should think there would be quite a controversy over its final resting place in the University.⁶

Regarding the placement of his own portrait, Copland told Wood that he had raised the matter with Wheeler ‘of somebody else having a look at it his own portrait’. Before Copland left Australia on 28 January 1946 to take up his diplomatic appointment in China, he nominated one of his associates, Margaret Kiddle to look over the portrait. A few months later, Wood was allowed to cast his eyes over the finished work. He assured Copland that Wheeler had done ‘an excellent job which amply preserves your prestige and decorum, and we are only waiting for a frame before arranging an adequate ceremonial’.⁷ Copland would have been further heartened, too, to hear that the Commerce graduates and staff, along with local members of the Economic Society have taken up the subscription ‘with great enthusiasm’. As with the Giblin project, Wood would also arrange engravers to make a good colour print of the portrait which would be circulated to subscribers. Copland asked that copies of the portrait be sent to Sir James Hight, his former teacher at Canterbury College in Christchurch, New Zealand, to the American economists Jacob Viner and John H. Williams as well as to Colonel H.S. Nicholas in London. Having received a colour copy of his portrait, Copland mused that the left side of his neck stuck out but was amused that this is what he had done in his career.⁸

Wood was also in charge of arranging the unveiling ceremony and assured Copland that the guest list of people from town and gown would meet with his approval. He would ask the Vice Chancellor, John Medley, and Harold Simpson, the President of the Commerce Graduates Association as well as faculty staff to attend. The student body, itself, had raised 100 pounds. Copland’s friend, the grazier Alan Ritchie had donated two pounds to the fund while Giblin himself made a substantial gift of five pounds. Interestingly only the Melbourne economists were asked to contribute to the Copland portrait fund. When Wood asked Copland whether he had a message to pass on to the gathering, he replied joking that he was now ‘doing penance in China for all the false doctrine (he) taught them’.⁹ The unveiling of the Copland portrait took place in August 1946 when Wood and Simpson presented the portrait to Chancellor Lowe.

Later, in sending Wheeler a cheque for 150 guineas Wood, again, expressed his delight with the portrait: ‘That was magnificent, but then it was just Charles Wheeler’.¹⁰ He added that he had heard nothing but praise for the work. Wheeler, who attended the ceremony for the handover was delighted to hear that his work had met with approval.¹¹ Copland would, Wood hoped, be ‘tickled’ to know that his portrait later went on display at the Tasmanian Art Gallery in December: ‘Giblin is with you on the wall, and I would dearly love to hear some of the comparisons made by the Hobartians’.¹² The fact was, however, that the locals were more interested in the Dobell work than the Wheeler portrait.

Apart from the quality of the portrait, something else had dominated Copland’s mind about the whole project; he was emphatic that his portrait be hung in Wilson Hall ‘for recognition of my work to the university… based on the broader conception’.¹³ By that he meant not just being the inaugural Dean of the Faculty of Commerce but Chairman of the Professorial Board as well as having been the Acting Vice Chancellor over two lengthy periods. What Copland was really aggrieved about was how John Medley had trumped him to become the University of Melbourne’s Vice Chancellor in March 1938. Copland had been strongly favoured to win the contest and his defeat left him disconsolate and uncertain whether to remain at the university. The outbreak of war and an appeal from Prime Minister Menzies to become the Commonwealth Prices Commissioner rescued Copland from a quite awkward situation. He now entrusted Wood with convincing the university authorities to agree to his request that the portrait be hung in Wilson Hall, regarded as the architectural jewel of the university. It would salvage, Copland felt, some of his reputation within the university. He was, however, to be sorely disappointed.

A year later, and back in Australia, Copland caught up with Wood and, on his high horse, reminded him that he had only agreed to sit for Wheeler if that very condition was met. He lashed out at Wood for not letting the University Council be aware of that condition. He went on:

I think you will agree that adequate grounds for asking that the portrait be hung in the Wilson Hall… It would be an embarrassment for me to raise this matter with others, and I hope, therefore, that some action can be taken so that the University will know what view I had expressed at the time the arrangements were made to have the portrait painted.¹⁴

This left Wood in something of a quandary since Vice Chancellor Medley had already informed him that the university council had decided that no more portraits, including Giblin’s, would be hung in Wilson Hall.¹⁵ Today, Copland’s almost forgotten portrait hangs in a darkened corner of a foyer of the Copland lecture theatre at the Faculty of Business and Economics Building.

In May 1945 the Giblin portrait had been presented to the university with Giblin in attendance as part of a far grander occasion. That portrait now resides in the Ian Potter Museum of Art at Melbourne University. It is, however, not on display but in storage. And how the story unfolded of that portrait portended a drama all of its own.

4. The Equanimity of Giblin

4.1. Preparation

There was always a groundswell of support for honouring Giblin’s contribution to Australian public life in an official portrait. Melville had attracted the interest of Dobell to undertake the commission and, together with Copland, organised a campaign to elicit public support. At the time Copland was the Commonwealth Price Commissioner and Economic Consultant to the Prime Minister. Both men were joined by Professor Richard Mills, now with the Commonwealth Department of Education, and by the Australian Solicitor-General, Sir George Knowles. While Wood served as Treasurer, he played no part in the choice of artist nor in the negotiations that preceded it. For his part, Knowles was wary about the choice of the artist telling Melville that ‘with Dobell’s penchant for exaggerating characteristics of his subjects he might produce a portrait which would not satisfy us’.¹⁶

While some donors might have been delighted by the choice of Dobell many were not including Copland who admitted to one businessman that it was ‘a bit of an experiment’ in approaching him.¹⁷ As chairman of the committee, Copland wrote to Dobell, noting ‘I understand that the arrangements with you to paint the portrait were made verbally by Mr Melville’ with a fee of 200 pounds plus expenses. He reminded Dobell that Giblin ‘was a man of unusually varied interests and colourful personality… and we feel that you can capture for us what we like in him’.¹⁸ Dobell did not respond to the letter which led Copland to conclude ‘that he must be a real artist’.¹⁹ It marked the start of a problematic relationship with Dobell.

Later that month a public letter composed by Melville and Copland was sent out to those who had been associated with Giblin either in academe, culturally, public administration and central banking. In his illustrious career Giblin, besides his early professional life in Tasmania, had been the Acting Commonwealth Statistician, a member of the Commonwealth Grants Commission and had been a member of the Commonwealth Bank Board. He was also Chairman of the Finance and Economics Committee which dealt with Australia’s wartime needs during the conflict of 1939–45 but also helped to plan Australia’s policies of post-war reconstruction, including the famous ‘Full Employment approach’.

Eventually a list of more than 160 names or contacts was compiled. This list had been drawn up and consolidated by Richard Downing who at the time was working alongside Copland. Downing drew upon the assistance of J. M. Garland, a Melbourne graduate now working at the Commonwealth Bank as an aide to Melville.²⁰ Interestingly, while he might initially have opposed the idea of a portrait, Giblin surrendered names of acquaintances and friends from his Tasmanian days indicating that he was prepared to subject himself to the ordeal of having his portrait painted.²¹

Melville who had some appreciation of modern art told Copland that some on the list would not respond because of lethargy, because they did not like Dobell’s style or simply because they were abroad; for instance, J.M. Keynes and Sir John Clapham at Cambridge University who were listed as was Stanley Bruce were all in England. Three Australian economists were overseas at the time, J.B. Brigden and Ronald Walker were in Washington while Edward Dyason was in Santiago. The letter informed prospective subscribers that they were being approached because they were linked with Giblin and would welcome the opportunity of ‘recognising his work and paying tribute to his colourful personality’.²² The letter suggested that, given Giblin’s reign as the first Ritchie Research professor of economics, the portrait would perpetuate his memory and be donated, therefore, to the University of Melbourne. This meant that donations could be treated as a tax deduction. It was suggested that a donation of two guineas would be an appropriate contribution.

The letter was sent out in June to some federal politicians; Arthur Fadden, Earle Page and Ben Chifley who was ‘delighted to honour an old friend’ all contributed. Most of those who were contacted resided in Hobart, Melbourne, Canberra or Sydney. After just one month some 190 pounds had already been raised and Wood was chasing up some of the laggards who had not responded. All the economists contacted donated including Colin Clark, Syd Butlin, H.C. Coombs, John Crawford as well as the NSW Statistician, Stanley Carver.

The letter also informed contributors that the committee had been successful in securing the services of William Dobell to undertake the work. It was this aspect of the project, however, which raised concern among some of the contributors. And it would be Wood, as recipient of the donations, who would be first to hear of such unease and, in some cases, outright dissent. This was a consequence of Dobell’s painting of his friend Joshua Smith which had won the Archibald Prize for 1943; in a subsequent court case in 1944 two artists, Mary Edwards and Joseph Wolenski, who were unlikely to have been awarded the prize sued the Trustees, egged on by members of the Royal Art Society (Gleeson 1964, 57). The premise of their argument was that the work had been a caricature rather than a portrait and had, therefore, grossly ‘distorted’ his true appearance (Coleman, Cornish, and Hagger 2006, 231).

Wood fanned some subscribers’ apprehension by echoing the fears of one contributor that ‘Dobell will produce that grotesque caricature to which Giblin lends himself so admirably’.²³ Wood amused himself by telling contributors that, by subscribing to the venture, they ran the risk of implicating themselves in a possible libel case. He lightened the mood by telling contributors such as Sir Owen Dixon of the High Court of Australia that every contributor would receive a record of their indiscretion because they would all be sent a colour copy of the portrait. Privately Wood hoped and prayed that Dobell would probably not do a Joshua Smith-style portrait of Giblin. Moreover, Joshua Smith’s portrait of the Speaker of Federal Parliament, the Honourable J. Solomon Rosevear, which had just won the 1944 Archibald Prize, lent hope that Dobell might follow suit and ‘give us something neither defamatory nor libellous’.²⁴

Some, however, were not to be disarmed by Wood’s light-heartedness. One strong dissenter from the choice of Dobell was the General Manager of the Bank of NSW, Sir Alfred Davidson. The banker was only prepared to donate if Wood would give him ‘a reasonable assurance’ that the resulting work ‘would be a portrait and not a caricature. I cannot conceive of anything more utterly hideous and revolting than some of Dobell’s work’.²⁵ In short, Davidson wanted a ‘dignified portrait not some figment of the artist’s imagination after he has had a bad dream’. Somewhat embarrassed, Wood responded that he could not meet Davidson’s clause of ‘no advance without security’.²⁶ Davidson had earlier written to Copland requesting that he select another artist ‘who can delineate his subject with more accuracy of craftmanship’.²⁷ Copland replied that the negotiations with Dobell were too advanced to be withdrawn and that perhaps Davidson should overlook Dobell and recall Giblin’s manifold contributions to economic and cultural activities.²⁸

Another dissentient from Dobell was Senator Sir William Massy Greene. He told Copland that he thought Dobell would be ‘the last man I would have selected to paint Giblin, because Giblin’s fine face wants a kind of understanding that I do not think Dobell is capable of’.²⁹ Horace White, a former school friend of Giblin’s, told Wood that as an ‘unregenerate philistine so far as modern art is concerned’ he was apprehensive what Dobell would make of Giblin. However, he hoped the artist would pick up on Giblin’s qualities of ‘integrity, sanity, fairmindedness and benevolence’.³⁰ Wood remarked that White’s apprehensions were shared by many other contributors ‘who fear that Giblin was almost too ready a subject for an artist whom many regard as leaning unduly towards caricature’.³¹

Others took a more sanguine view. One contributor, an executive from the Cadbury-Fry-Pascall company, hoped that Dobell would do an excellent job and not ‘Joshua Smith’ Giblin.³² Max Crawford, professor of history at the University of Melbourne heralded the venture as ‘a grand idea’.³³Another Tasmanian contributor, the former Premier, Edmund Dwyer Gray, said it would be interesting what Dobell made of Giblin’s so-called ‘colourful personality’.³⁴ Sir Owen Dixon, also took this approach, hoping that Dobell would succeed in ‘recording the outward evidence of a strong intellect and an individual character so that the respect and regard he commands among many would be understood’.³⁵

Athol Lewis of the Commonwealth Bank jokingly suggested that Dobell make adequate use of red paint. He also reminded Wood that it should not be forgotten that Giblin was ‘an unorthodox efficient and intrepid member of the A.I.F.’.³⁶ The economic historian G.V. ‘Jerry’ Portus let his imagination run riot as to what Dobell would paint:

I would like to see Giblin painted rising from the sea (of economics) quite naked, like Bottichelli’s Venus and surrounded by the Australian Economists as attendant satellites. But this, I suppose, is too much to hope for, even if it were to be called ‘The Naked Truth’.³⁷

Frank Mauldon who had worked with Giblin at the University of Melbourne felt ‘our Socrates’ should certainly be memorialised adding the prescient comment that ‘One wonders what the eye of a Dobell will discern in his subject that is hidden from the eyes of normal men!³⁸ Another economic historian John La Nauze, while contributing to the fund was more interested in enticing Giblin to write his reminiscences.

4.2. Execution

Melville made contact with the elusive Dobell in mid-August 1945. Still smarting from the criticism of his work during the Joshua Smith court case Dobell, a little depressed, had been lying low (Gleeson 1964, 80). He told Melville that he would soon begin the work but needed some sable brushes.³⁹ Dobell suggested he would make a start at the end of August and told Melville that he would like to make some sketches of Giblin at his home in Canberra. This would be done over a few days and Melville suggested that Dobell might stay in Copland’s old flat in Canberra.⁴⁰ Melville also had to ensure that Dobell was given some two dozen sable brushes for the work. These were duly delivered but Melville was finding Dobell rather ‘casual’ about business arrangements.⁴¹ He complained to Wood that in order ‘to get him off to Canberra’ his train tickets had been bought for Dobell.⁴² When he got to Canberra Dobell apparently spent four days taking innumerable sketches of Giblin’s face, hands and clothes in preparation for the portrait. Dobell agreed to let the committee have ‘a very good little pencil sketch’ which was gifted to Giblin ‘with the compliments of subscribers and the artist’.⁴³ Another instance of Dobell’s absentmindedness was that he would mislay the cheque for the completed work necessitating another cheque to be issued.

After some work painting landscapes around his home in Wangi Wangi, NSW, Dobell was back in harness towards the end of 1945 (Gleeson 1964, 81). He finished the Giblin portrait in order to enter it in the Archibald Prize and that, as mentioned, he did so without the committee’s permission.⁴⁴ He was, however, not legally obliged to do so. So, the first Melville would have seen of the portrait would have been at the Archibald exhibition. Melville felt that Dobell was charging ‘a fairly considerable fee’ for his work (200 pounds plus incidental expenses) and was a little worried about the publicity should he actually win the prize. As it turned out, his portrait fell a few votes short of winning. Melville would have been further horrified to read how one art critic described Dobell’s depiction of Giblin as resembling ‘something that’s been washed up on the beach’.⁴⁵ Other press reaction, however, suggested that the Dobell portrait outshone the winning entry.

4.3. Completion and Reaction

The Archibald Exhibition closed on 19 February 1946 and both Copland and Melville, having now seen the Giblin portrait, had to decide whether they should ask Dobell to make some alterations. With Copland enroute to China, Melville, who was now in control, was in two minds. The publisher and artist, Sydney Ure Smith wanted to reproduce the portrait unchanged for a book on Dobell’s collected works. Melville, however, did not think the original portrait was an accurate rendition of Giblin and thought that the artist could be approached to make minor adjustments to Giblin’s head and hands. Another thing was that no one would want to have two portraits of Giblin in circulation. On reflection Melville then raised the issue of heritage:

Future generations will be very interested in the portrait as a likeness of Giblin. They will rather consider it as a work of art and interpretation. In both these respects, I think the portrait is more than satisfactory. Whether it would lose anything in these respects if some minor adjustments were made to is really a problem for technical decision.⁴⁶

In a letter, Melville suggested to the committee that, if alterations were to be made to the portrait, they should be made immediately before it was reproduced for Ure Smith’s book. Mills left it to Melville to make the decision while Knowles and Wood did not reply.⁴⁷ Copland, the one man whose decision might have mattered, was incommunicado, literally, on a slow boat to China. Melville alerted Giblin to the matter. He responded that his

personal feeling was that Dobell ought not be asked to make any alteration beyond those he would wish to make on his own considered judgement. I understand that he had some such minor adjustments in mind. If, as you suggest, it is possible he is not now of that mind I should be sorry if he was pressed.⁴⁸

Giblin ended by indicating that he favoured Melville’s desire to discuss the matter with Dobell and decide matters on the basis of the latter’s opinion. It is not known whether the Canberra-based Giblin had seen the version that had been on display at the gallery in Sydney.

Melville’s cautionary stance had no doubt been swayed by Ure Smith’s view that the Giblin portrait was one of Dobell’s ‘finest paintings’ and that the painting of Giblin’s head was a ‘remarkable performance and is perhaps the finest head painted by Dobell’. Ure Smith reminded Melville and the committee that the finished work was the artist’s interpretation of the sitter which is the important thing and must be left intact. He closed by saying that his view was shared by brother artists, and he hoped that Dobell, therefore, would not be asked to make any adjustments.⁴⁹

Ure Smith also offered to undertake the colour reproduction of the portrait using the plates for the Dobell book meaning that the committee would only have to pay for the colour prints. The publisher was given custody of the portrait before it would be crated and transported down to Melbourne. There were sufficient funds left in the portrait fund to provide colour reproductions for all the contributors as was agreed to at the outset. Everything seemed settled. However, writing from China, Copland told Melville that that he would like him to discuss alterations to Giblin’s face with Dobell and that ‘it would not be proper’ for Ure Smith to go ahead with a reproduction of the unaltered portrait.⁵⁰ Copland’s intervention was, fortunately, too late. It is speculative to ask whether his intervention would have been more forceful had he still been in Australia and whether his wishes would have overridden Giblin’s advice to leave the portrait as it was.

In the company of Garland, Giblin saw his portrait in March 1946 at the studio of Ure Smith where the engravers were doing the copying.⁵¹ It was nothing like the pencil drawing he had been given earlier. As it turned out, Dobell requested to have access to the portrait for a few days but only to give it a gloss and make ‘a few finishing touches’ but not to make any alterations to Giblin’s head.⁵² After that, the portrait was handed back to the Commonwealth Bank for brief display before being crated and despatched to Wood in Melbourne. Wood received the portrait in the first week of April. Before the presentation ceremony at the university, the portrait was sent to Canberra so the twenty contributors including economists such as Roland Wilson, Frederick Wheeler, John Crawford, Horrie Brown and Coombs could all see what their benevolence had delivered.

Meanwhile other contributors were soon receiving copies of the portrait. The Master of Newman College in Melbourne, J. M. Murphy reported that ‘it struck him as a most provocatively interesting piece of work’ while the portrait was entitled ‘A University Professor’ ‘there was no doubt of whom the person was portrayed. It is very much the man, very little the Don’.⁵³

Wood agreed with Horace White’s comment about how one of Giblin’s former school friends spoke of how ‘at first’ he had observed that very feature of Giblin’s head was unlike the subject: ‘the broad nose, the mouth like that of a jug, the closed eyes, and a small head – but the thing seemed to be alive, and to suggest him, in spite of all’.⁵⁴

Wood reported back to White that, in general, there had been a negative response to the portrait. It was disliked because it made Giblin ‘appear Hebraic, bibulous, stout, sleepy and a whole range of other characteristics which were not Giblin at all’. However, Wood, too, confessed that ‘after living’ with the portrait in his room for many weeks ‘there was no doubt whatever that the real Giblin did come through in spite of everything which seemed so anomalous in the picture’.⁵⁵

4.4. The Unveiling

The focus now switched to the presentation ceremony at the University of Melbourne and arranging for both Giblin and Dobell to attend. However, Dobell sent his apologies for not being able to attend the ceremony. Journalists were keen to hear what Giblin really felt about his portrait even though he had already seen it in Sydney and possibly while it was on display in Canberra. While his wife Eileen detested it, Giblin’s only remarks to his sister, Edith was to say that

Dobell was a little perverse. His painting was quite different from his sketch. It was of course his imagination of how I might look.

A month later he added

…For its personal verisimilitude, I am of all people the worst possible judge. After careful consideration I told William that I thought it was ‘fair comment’. And I leave it at that. (Cited in Copland 1960, 144–5)

Giblin’s easy-going response to his portrait was at variance with Copland’s egotistical acceptance of his own portrait by Wheeler. While Coleman, Cornish, and Hagger (2006, 236) suggest that the Dobell portrait was something of an artistic failure and soon ‘forgotten by Dobell experts’, the portrait still commanded attention. It was shown in exhibitions on contemporary Australian art in London in 1953⁵⁶ and again in 1956 as well as in Canada in that same year.⁵⁷ In short, it was in demand. Ten years later, in a profile on Giblin, K.C. Masterton (1961, 18) wrote that it was a fine portrait but not a flattering one as it showed him to be ‘gross’ in what was ‘otherwise an excellent likeness’. Another scribe, Tom Fitzgerald (1960, 23) in reviewing Copland’s edited memorial to Giblin said that the volume was at variance to how ‘William Dobell chose to portray as a leering, bibulous-nosed, old joker’. A generation later the portrait still resonated with Roland Wilson (1976, 311) in a belated tribute to Giblin’s versatility and public spiritedness calling it an ‘indignity’.

Professor Lyndhurst F. Giblin (William Dobell), 1945. The University of Melbourne Art Collection. reproduced with permission.

When discussing the cover for the memorial volume on Giblin which Copland edited, Garland suggested that a coloured reproduction of the Dobell portrait might work even if ‘the likeness may not be good the combination of subject and artist makes it too famous a work to pass by’.⁵⁸ Copland, however, was having none of it. He went on to explain to Garland his almost visceral dislike of the portrait

On the question of a frontispiece, I would not be very happy about the Dobell portrait. I have always felt that there is something about it which is not like Giblin and is rather repulsive. I never discussed the matter with Giblin but I have been told he liked it. Perhaps you don’t know that my younger daughter was Giblin’s godchild. When she was about 13 we were waiting in Sydney for a boat to China and I took her without notice to the Gallery to see the portrait that had been entered for the Archibald prize that year. When she came to Giblin she burst into tears and fled from the room.⁵⁹

The frontispiece Garland and Copland settled on for the book entitled Giblin: The Man and the Scholar (1960) was a black and white photograph of Giblin with his trademark pipe. However, it had been earlier agreed between Garland who was organising the volume on Copland’s behalf that he should approach Eilean Giblin to see if he could borrow the pencil study of Giblin by Dobell which had been gifted to the professor.⁶⁰ She agreed it would be ‘worthy’ as the frontispiece to the book.⁶¹ However for some reason it was not included.

When William Coleman, Selwyn Cornish and Alf Hagger released their book on Giblin’s Platoon (2006) looking at the activities and contributions of a quartet of Australian economists centred around Giblin they took on board Garland’s advice and had Dobell’s eye-catching portrait of Giblin on the front cover.

5. Conclusion

With a great affection for his old comrade and mentor, Copland had wanted a fitting memorial for Giblin. As Copland readily admitted he was no authority on art and never realised that he had, in fact, succeeded more than he and Melville could ever have imagined. Moreover, Dobell had, as Frank Mauldon forecast, divined an element of mystery or what Coleman, Cornish, and Hagger (2006, 237) called ‘the sheer strangeness of Giblin’, that, ‘Giblin was not a normal person’. Indeed. In contrast, the Wheeler portrait of Copland captured well his vanity and self-importance, but also that he was, at heart, ‘a simple man’ (Downing 1971). For Copland himself there would be ample opportunity for a few more portraits. Used to working on a broad campus, he would later become the first Vice Chancellor of the Australian National University and, beyond that, the first Principal of the newly established Australian Administrative Staff College at Mount Eliza.

Acknowledgements

Honorary Research Fellow, Federation University Australia. I would like to acknowledge the assistance of Philip O Brien and Virginia Macdonald, Senior Archivist at the Reserve Bank of Australia along with two anonymous referees.

Disclosure Statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author.

Notes

1 ‘Occasional notes of Copland’s visit to Cambridge’ 26/5/1933, Faculty of Economics and Commerce, University of Melbourne (FECC UMA).

2 ‘Keen interest in Prize paintings’ Sydney Morning Herald 21/1/1946.

3 Copland to Wood 30/5/1946, FECC UMA.

4 Copland to Wood 13/1/1946, FECC UMA.

5 Copland to Wood 30/1/1946, FECC UMA.

6 Ibid.

7 Wood to Copland 7/5/1946, FECC UMA.

8 Copland to Wood 1/1/1947, FECC UMA.

9 Copland to Wood 23/7/1946, FECC UMA.

10 Wood to Wheeler23/10/1946, FECC UMA.

11 Wheeler to Wood 28/10/1945, FECC UMA.

12 Wood to Copland 23/11/1946, FECC UMA.

13 Ibid.

14 Copland to Wood 20/3/1947, FECC UMA.

15 Wood to J.M. Garland 23/3/1946, GLG 46-1 RBA.

16 Knowles to Melville 20/1/1945 GJG-46-1 RBA.

17 Copland to V C Smith 9/7/1945 GLG 46-1 RBA.

18 Copland to Dobell 5/6/1945 GLG 46-1 RBA.

19 Copland to V. Smith 9/7/1945 GLG 46-1 RBA.

20 Garland to R. Downing 7/4/1945, GLG 46-1 RBA.

21 L.F. Giblin to Copland 13/5/1945, GLG 46-1 RBA.

22 ‘Giblin letter portrait’, 6/6/1945, GLG 46-1 RBA.

23 Wood to R B Lennon1/8/1945, FECC UMA.

24 Ibid.

25 Davidson to Wood 9/7/1945 FECC UMA.

26 Wood to Davidson 15/7/1945 FECC UMA.

27 Davidson to Copland 10/7/1945 GLG 46-1 RBA.

28 Copland to Davidson 12/7/1945 GLG 46-1 RBA.

29 W. Massy Greene to Copland 16/7/1945, GLG 46-1 RBA.

30 H White to Wood 20/7/1945, FECC UMA.

31 Wood to H.B. White 1/8/1945, FECC UMA.

32 V.C. Smith to Copland 3/7/1945, GLG 46-1 RBA.

33 M Crawford to Wood 13/7/1945, FECC UMA.

34 E Dwyer Grey to Wood 16/7/1945, FECC UMA.

35 O. Dixon to Wood 14/7/1945, FECC UMA.

36 A Lewis to Wood 10/7/1945, FECC UMA.

37 G. V. Portus to Wood 10/6/1945, FECC UMA.

38 F. Mauldon to Wood 18/7/1945, FECC UMA.

39 Melville to Copland 9/8/1945, GLG 46-1 RBA.

40 Melville to Copland 14/8/1945, GLG 46-1 RBA.

41 Melville to Copland 19/9/1945, GLG 46-1 RBA.

42 Melville to Wood 22/10/1945, GLG 46-1 RBA.

43 Garland to wood 30/3/1946, GLG 46-1 RBA.

44 Melville to Wood 10/1/1946, FECC UMA.

45 ‘A lot of painted faces’ by L W. Lower, Smith’s Weekly 26/1/1946.

46 Melville to Wood 5/2/1946, FECC UMA.

47 Mills to Melville 12/2/1946, GLG 46-1 RBA.

48 Giblin to Melville 13/2/1946, GLG 46-1 RBA.

49 Ure Smith to Melville 6/2/1946, FECC UMA.

50 Copland to Melville 11/3/1946, GLG 46-1 RBA.

51 Garland to Wood 15/3/1946, GLG 46-1 RBA.

52 Garland to Wood 22/3/1946, GLG 46-1 RBA.

53 J. M. Murphy to Wood 3/10/1945, FECC UMA.

54 H. White to Wood 4/2/1947, FECC UMA.

55 Wood to H. White 7/2/1947, FECC UMA.

56 ‘London critics’ impressions of Australian art’ SMH 30/7/1953.

57 ‘Dobell portrait for Canada ’The Argus 4/9/1956.

58 Garland to Copland 16/3/1954 Garland correspondence GJG-60-1 RBA.

59 Copland to Garland 25/3/1954 Garland correspondence GJG-60-1 RBA.

60 Garland to E. Giblin July 1953 GLG-59-5 (06-3413) RBA.

61 E. Giblin to J. Garland 27/7/1953 GLG-59-5 (06-3413) RBA.