TONY FOMISON

This exhibition of photographs of Tony Fomison by Shirley Grace, shown alongside Fomison’s own paintings, prints and ceramics offers a unique insight into one of this country’s most recognised post-war painters. 
Fomison (1939-1990), like his paintings, is said to have had an intensity and presence that is somewhat difficult to define. Reflected in his works in a lifetime spent of observation and documentation of his immediate environments, here, Grace’s photographs offer a kind of counter observation of the artist himself.

Fomison’s canvases are often characterised as dark, brooding or foreboding and are thought to offer a personal representation of the human condition and its inherent fragility. Subject to depression himself, images of clowns, jesters, and religious subjects and symbols act as further metaphors for human frailty. His subjects often reflect his interest in issues of multiculturalism and the multicultural environment in which he chose to live. Traditional narratives and mythology were also frequently combined with the contemporary human figure. There is a strong emphasis on colour and shading, lending many works an almost apocalyptic sense. 

Shirley Grace’s contribution to this exhibition provides a unique insight into Fomison’s character and studio life. Grace (1949 - 2000) was a noted film actor (Goodbye Pork Pie, Pallet on the Floor, Gordon Bennett) painter and photographer. Her relationship with Tony Fomison is documented in a series of photographs taken at his home in the Auckland suburb of Grey Lynn in 1989. Accompanying entries from her dairy recall a personal experience of the often elusive artist. She wrote: “Tony was welcoming although obviously physically frail, has an inner strength and presence that is impossible not to be affected by. His eyes are intense he has the need/desire to communicate fully about all sorts of things. He spoke frequently of honesty and ethics and how his ‘art scene’ rejected him. I now fumble for the words to describe him – his own were so eloquent and I came away wishing I had had a tape recorder – because when I started to photograph, I was concentrating on the images and was aware, as a result, of missing quite a bit of what he said.” (undated journal entry, circa November 1989)

The following is an excerpt from Shirley Grace’s diary and recalls her day spent photographing Tony Fomison.“I spent some 5 ½ hours with Tony (Fomison) at his home yesterday. I didn’t quite know what to expect when I arrived – there were people there, including his sister Anna, a young Samoan man, Gengis and Zarn- one of Barnaby’s friends – who were generally helping out. Tony was welcoming although obviously physically frail, has an inner strength and presence that is impossible not to be affected by. His eyes are intense and he has the need/desire to communicate fully about all sorts of things. He spoke frequently of honesty and ethics and how the ‘art scene’ rejected him. I now fumble for the words to describe him – his own were so eloquent and I came away wishing I has had a tape recorder – because when I started to photograph, I was concentrating on the images and was aware, as a result, of missing quite a bit of what he said. You need to concentrate on what he’s saying to get it fully. (I haven’t developed the films yet). So as far as the photography went, it was something like this: When I first arrived he told me to feel free to photograph but that he didn’t like posing. I explained that I didn’t like people posing either but from time to time it was good to acknowledge an awareness of being photographed, between the photographer and the person photographing.

I asked him a question to do with Maori use of ‘stones’ (I had meant in a megalithic way but he interpreted it as carvings/kumara Gods etc. However he got a book from his library which he read from and I then started to photograph. Then the significance of the Taiaha was explained to me and Anna [Fomison’s sister] after which we all went outside where Tony elaborated on the symbolism and use of it. I became aware of him beginning to enjoy/relax with the camera – and be obliging. We moved inside and his new leather coat was brought out – a coat which would ‘shut up the crummies at openings’ and, if neccesary camouflage any clothes he had neglected to change or were dirty. Bootgirl Renee had made it for him shaped to counteract the hollow chest and humpy look he describes himself as having. He thought it a great joke. We considered taking a photo into the mirror in his bedroom but it never happened. We then moved into his studio. He wanted to know (see) what it was like from my p.o.v to see his reflection – at least that’s now what I think he meant – at the time it wasn’t clear so it didn’t get done – something else distracted us during the discussion - Gengis coming in to say the car wasn’t running, I think. Well, then we moved to the front room which is his studio and into which the afternoon light was beginning to move. We started considering more deliberately each frame. He wanted to pose with a defiant brush against the large bare canvas waiting there. We shared a cigarette; the boys had gone or were waiting outside. The feeling was strong and good – I was aware of not pushing for anything.I was aware ofbeing in the moment. I became aware of the tattoo – and finally asked if I might photograph it. I remember asking clearly and straightforwardly. He considered the question for some time then said ‘yes in a limited way’. (I had in my mind’s eye an image of him naked/ back to me against the bare canvas, but that was not to be.

‘There are two frames left’ I said. He said he would put on a lava lava, his informal one, and left the room. Later I heard the shaver going, then later still he returned clean shaven, lava lava clad with beads T shirt and jacket asking for the Kava stick (from the same wood as the bowls) which were high up on the wall somewhere in the kitchen, and which Gengis found and brought to him. I shifted his chair into a better light (facing light) away from the window and suggested ‘Do nothing, be everything’ which I sometimes do (once before anyway, with the Topp Twins). He considered that with his eyes closed – and the two frames were taken.
Soon after he changed back into his warmer clothes, I lit the fire and shared a few beers with the boys (Tony wasn’t drinking) before leaving. I arrived home elated. It had been a special day.”
Undated diary entry, circa November 1989. Courtesy of Aimee Gruar and the Estate of Shirley Grace