Plagues, family tragedy, a shipwreck and a mysterious return. It sounds like the plot of a cinematic epic or a Shakespearean drama. But it's actually the surreal story of a little-known but wildly fascinating painting you can see at the Art Gallery of NSW (AGNSW).
There are over 35,000 works held in its collection, with only a fraction of that on show at any one time – including around 270 hung in prime position in the currently closed-for-renos Grand Courts. So you’d be forgiven for overlooking Giambattista Tiepolo’s humble oil painting ‘Saint Roch', at less than one metre squared in its frame, and with its subtle palette. Tiepolo’s name isn’t quite as famous as his Venetian colleague Titian, or their fellow Italian creators who would one day lend their names to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Leonardo, Michelangelo, Raphael and Donatello.
Struggling to compete with crowd-pleasers like Elioth Gruner 'Spring Frost' or Grace Cossington Smith's 'The sock knitter', 'Saint Roch' lay unloved for two decades in a dusty corner of the gallery’s conservation lab. Higher priorities queue jumped it to get back out into major exhibitions. And yet, it has one of the most remarkable stories in all of the collection, as assistant curator of European art Anne Gerard-Austin was about to discover a couple of years back. “I’ve got a particular interest in provenance, in really searching for the history of a painting, or what we call the biographies of objects,” the keen art detective says.
When Tiepolo’s finally got the touch up it deserved, bringing its vibrancy back to life, Gerard-Austin set about discovering what she could about the painting. Establishing provenance is vitally important in the art business. “The gallery, as a public collection, has a duty to do so,” she says, pointing to the tumult of World War II and the extensive thefts of the Nazis as one major reason why they need to know how every work that goes on show came into the gallery’s possession. “But it’s not just the legal aspect,” Gerard-Austin says. “It’s also about just exploring the human lives behind these objects.”
After his mother died, I got the feeling that he wanted to change his life, and so he sold all his properties and decided to go back to London
Which brings us neatly to John Speir Heron. He was born in Manchester, England, to Edith Pape Heron. After the death of her husband, the widower and her son travelled half the world away, settling in Sydney – she purchased 51 acres in Castle Hill in 1890. John, fascinated by botany, created a beautiful orchard that would seed a wildly successful fruit-growing business, which funded his love of art collecting, instilled in him by his grandfather. That eventually led to the above-board purchase of 'Saint Roch, a devotional painting that depicts the nobleman who gave away all of his wealth on the death of his parents and set out on a pilgrimage.
In an eerie echo of our current times, Roche encountered a plague sweeping through Italy and tended to many ill people. When he eventually became sick himself, it’s said he retreated to the woods, where he shared a loaf with a stray dog. Miraculously (hence the sainthood), the pup's licks cured him. Alas, he was, soon afterwards, arrested as a spy on the orders of his own dastardly uncle. Refusing to reveal his identity, he subsequently died in prison. Believers pray to Saint Roch in times of great sickness, which makes the painting strangely topical at present.
That topicality led to it being rehung in the Grand Courts when the gallery reopened late last year, as a glorious symbol of revival. But not before Gerard-Austin did some serious sleuthing. “It had been in the collection for more than a century, but with only vague details attached to it that I realised were wrong,” she says. For a start, it had been misattributed to Salvator Rosa. But this is where things get really trippy. While the Speir Heron's lived a happy life, Edith's health deteriorated fast in old age. The headstrong, proud woman refused to wither away, and tragically decided to take her own life rather than allowing disease to take it from her. A terrible turn, Gerard-Austin suspects this tragedy stole the joy from John’s successful life in Sydney.
“It’s really sad,” she says. “After his mother died, I got the feeling that he wanted to change his life, and so he sold all his properties and decided to go back to London.”
Gerard-Austin discovered what appears to be a list of paintings for auction, including 'Saint Roch'. They were loaded into the steamer Pericles – named after the ancient Greek statesman who set in motion the founding of the Acropolis in Athens – in Melbourne on March 26, 1910. As recorded in the archives of the Australian National Maritime Museum, this voyage was to be a fateful one indeed. Five days later, just off of Australia’s most south-westerly point of Cape Leeuwin and in beautiful weather, the ship struck an uncharted rock and went down by nightfall. Miraculously, John and all 460 of his fellow passengers and the ship's crew members survived. But the WTFs don't end there. Strap in folks, because it's about to get wild.
Photograph: Australian National Maritime Museum collection | SS Pericles, circa 1908-10, Samuel J Hood
A letter handwritten by John relays the incredible occurrence that followed. “John took with him the most valuable paintings, probably with the intention to sell them in London, so they were very well packed for that reason,” Gerard-Austin says of the oiled cloth wrap that shrouded ‘Saint Roch’. “And then, a few weeks later, a teacher found the painting undamaged, washed up on the beach.”
It’s a very simple sketch that could probably go quite unnoticed… But once you start knowing about all those aspects of the object and the story… it becomes a little masterpiece
John made it back to London in the end, but, clearly unbothered by his near-death experience, set sail for Sydney once more to be reunited with 'Saint Roch'. Declaring that its remarkable story "almost accounted to a miracle”, he decided not to sell the work, but rather donate it to AGNSW, “as the most suitable resting place".
Its return to the Grand Court has been equally pleasing to John and Edith's ancestors. Three generations of the family came together at AGNSW last year to see 'Saint Roch' in all its restored glory. They share a long-held belief that there was a Titian, also owned by John, onboard the Pericles the night it sank, which may have also made it back to shore unscathed, although proof is scant to support the theory. "They came from all over interstate to see it, and afterward sent me a postcard to say how moving it was," Gerard-Austin recalls.
Sharing such a personal, living connection to the painting has transformed the way the curator looks at 'Saint Roch'. “I find the image beautiful. It’s a very simple sketch that could probably go quite unnoticed by visitors to the gallery. But once you start knowing about all those aspects of the object and the story of the saint, and what it meant to so many, it becomes a bit of a little masterpiece, something extremely powerful. And I love it.”
