‘You can’t take the experiences out of your head / You can’t take the damages out of your heart’: Ben Quilty’s After Afghanistan – and Homer, Virgil and Nadeem Aslam

Last Saturday I went to see Ben Quilty’s exhibition ‘After Afghanistan‘ at the National Art School in Sydney, commissioned by the Australian War Memorial. I hadn’t seen Quilty’s paintings in the flesh before and wasn’t sure what to expect. I certainly wasn’t expecting to be so shaken by them.

Captain S, after Afghanistan, Ben Quilty

Captain S, after Afghanistan, Ben Quilty

And I wasn’t planning to write about the exhibition here. But then I read the comments of one of Quilty’s subjects, Air Commodore John Oddie, and changed my mind. Beside his portraits Oddie had made these observations:

‘You can’t take the experiences out of your head / You can’t take the damages out of your heart’

‘Either through a lack of insight or through an unwillingness … I wasn’t admitting the truth to myself about my life. Ben really took that out and put it on a table in front of me like a three-course dinner and said, well how about that? And you know, I sort of thought well, I’m not going to come to this restaurant again in a hurry!’

John Oddie

John Oddie

Quilty had initially planned to paint from photographs he’d taken in Afghanistan of the soldiers staring into the sun – dazzled, exposed, shocked. But when he returned to his studio in Australia, he found this approach didn’t work. It lacked immediacy. So he invited some of the soldiers to his studio to sit for him, naked. The result are these raw, vulnerable portraits.

Which took me straight to the battlefields of Troy and of ancient Italy. To Hector’s death at the hand of Achilles in Homer’s Iliad:

‘Death cut him short. The end closed in around him. / Flying free of his limbs / his soul went winging down to the House of Death, / wailing his fate, leaving his manhood far behind, / his young and supple strength. But brilliant Achilles / taunted Hector’s body, dead as he was, “Die, die! / For my own death, I’ll meet it freely – whenever Zeus / and the other deathless gods would like to bring it on!”

With that he wrenched his bronze spear from the corpse, / laid it aside and ripped the bloody armor off the back. / And the other sons of Achaea, running up around him, / crowded closer, all of them gazing wonder-struck / at the build and marvellous, lithe beauty of Hector.’


And the death of the Trojan soldier Euryalus in Virgil’s Aeneid:

‘But while he begged / the sword goes plunging clean through Euryalus’ ribs, / cleaving open his white chest. He writhes in death / as blood flows over his shapely limbs, his neck droops, / sinking over a shoulder, limp as a crimson flower / cut off by a passing plow, that droops as it dies / or frail as poppies, their necks weary, bending / their heads when a sudden shower weighs them down.’

(Both passages are taken from translations by Robert Fagles.)

‘After Afghanistan’ also reminded me of Nadeem Aslam‘s beautiful, brutal novel The Wasted Vigil (2008) set in present day Afghanistan:

‘For a long time before Lara came to the house the kitchen was Marcus’s living quarters. There was no electricity so the refrigerator was used as a clean white cupboard to store clothes. He seldom visited the other interiors, the doors fastened, a muffled thud indicating that a book had detached itself from the ceiling. Qatrina and he had built up this collection over the decades and it contained the known and unknown masterpieces in several languages. Up there Priam begged Achilles for the mutilated body of his son Hector. And Antigone wished to give her brother the correct burial, finding unbearable the thought of him being left unwept, unsepulchred.

‘He went on a journey whenever he received word about a young man somewhere who could possibly be his lost grandson. Though he feared there was no hope of locating someone whose face you had never seen, whose face you didn’t know. The last excursion was to a city in the south of the country during the Taliban regime, and like the other times it was fruitless. There he saw an abandoned and locked-up school for girls into which, he was told, every book to be found in the city had been thrown on Taliban orders. When he put his ear to the keyhole he could hear the sound of worms eating the millions of pages.’

Bushmaster, Ben Quilty

Bushmaster, Ben Quilty

This entry was posted in Other news and marginalia. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to ‘You can’t take the experiences out of your head / You can’t take the damages out of your heart’: Ben Quilty’s After Afghanistan – and Homer, Virgil and Nadeem Aslam

  1. Beautiful response.

    And thank you. I hadn’t heard of Aslam but will now seek out his work.

    “Nadeem Aslam was years into his second novel when the 11 September attacks took place. “Many writers said the books they were writing were now worthless,” he recalls. Martin Amis, for one, felt his work in progress had been reduced to a “pitiable babble”. But Aslam’s saddened reaction to 9/11 was one of recognition. “I thought, that’s Maps for Lost Lovers – that’s the book I’m writing.””

    Says, everything I need to know – right there.

  2. I saw a couple of programs on the ABC about Quilty and these paintings. Amazing. Moving. Your photos here are almost tactile.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s