Mirka Mora – Order of the day

A few years back I worked at Heide Museum of Modern Art. Each morning I would visit Mirka’s painted glass mural in the sun room at the Heide farmhouse gallery, the light was diaphanous; gone once the sun reached the top of the world. It was cool at this time of day as the windows faced westerly, the crisp air providing clarity. I would think about what each of the mural symbols meant to me, I knew what they meant to her. Mirka’s art is often regarded through a lens of shared identification and experience, creating a feeling of connectedness. I want to tell her story with honesty; the way she lived.

Nicole Cullinan

Mirka Mora was born in Paris to a Lithuanian Jewish Father and a Romanian Jewish Mother in 1928, she died in 2018. I find myself reflecting on why Mirka was never awarded an Australia Day Honour or a Queens Birthday Honour. So great has been the outpouring of grief over her passing. Her life was destined to be extraordinary although she was born ordinary. She narrowly escaped death in a concentration camp as a teenager. At the age of sixteen she read Scenes de la Vie de Boheme by Henri Murger; a novel that spawned the famous Opera; La Boheme by Puccini. The story is of a photographer who had travelled across Victoria. That book planted a little seed in her heart; and in 1951 she boarded a 305-aeroplane destined for Melbourne; with her husband Georges and her first-born son Phillipe.

Mirka’s life was laden with loving stories of random acts of silliness, many of them super charged with sexuality. The time she cut little holes in her dress over her nipples and then cheekily regarded the restaurant patrons’ reactions. Or the time she went to the bathroom and returned without the slip under her dress revealing a beautifully naked body; thinly veiled by fabric. The day she went to the shops with no underwear and the wind caught her dress. The time she walked out into the ocean fully clothed, hat bopping atop the water. She was brave and made the everyday act of living a celebration.

Mirka’s artwork was inspired by both her new life and her old. An example of this are the lovers featured prominently in her artwork as an intertwined pair. Sometimes her lovers reminded her of a mother and son she saw on the train on the way to the concentration camp Pithiviers. “They always held each other, all the time, then they would walk in the camp holding each other” said Mirka. This melancholy admission just hung in the air silently. But then moments later her joie de vivre can be seen, and she states the lovers can also be her children. “I think of them, think of my children when they were in my arms. I’d give anything now to have them one afternoon, little and just holding them, you don’t know what it is, this tenderness” said Mirka.

A year after arriving in Melbourne, Mirka and Georges moved to Grosvenor Chambers at 9 Collins Street; an already famous address. It was a custom-built art studio building where many famous artists had resided, Tom Roberts, Frederick McCubbin, Arthur Streeton, and Ola Cohn to name a few. They quickly settled into a bohemian lifestyle and lived a very liberated life, often hosting parties. They had already experienced so much fear that it was likely a relief to be so free. They were surrounded by artists and like-minded creatives. “The atmosphere could be scooped up with a spoon” she said. As the studio was such a bustling busy place with all of the visiting artists, occasionally Mirka would go next door to the Windsor and take a room; just for some peace. She lived in Grosvenor Chambers with her family for sixteen years, and had two more children during this time, William in 1953 and Tiriel in 1958.

In 1954 the Moras opened Mirka Cafe on Exhibition street, bohemians were attracted to this place like bees to honey, Mirka being the honey. “They were crazy about my Mum” recalls son Phillipe. Mirka Cafe was a hot bed of artistic talent, including everybody who was anybody; except Sidney Nolan, who had left Melbourne for good in 1947. Mirka Cafe hosted the first art exhibitions of Joy Hester and Charles Blackman. Georges and Mirka opened a second restaurant in 1957, Balzac; as Mirka Cafe was over-run with patrons. John Perceval would sit in the window and smoke whilst Charles Blackman was employed as a cook.

During the 1950s artists were poor and paint was expensive. Arthur Boyd would make his own paint and one particular day, he gave paint to his fellow artists. “I was so honoured to be given the paint. One day he gave a tube to Blackman, Perceval and Mirka. He treats me equal to the boys, such a boy (Arthur Boyd), a rare man.” Mirka retells this story in the third person, like she was an outsider looking in at a wonderful scene. A scene she had replayed many times in her mind. The joy it brought her to be treated as an equal.

Mirka had her first exhibition in 1956 followed by thirty-five more over the next six decades. She spent long hours painting, her style represented both figurative and abstract art. Her works incorporated many forms of media including drawing, embroidery, soft sculpture, mosaics and doll making.

In 1966 Mirka and her family moved to the Tolarno Hotel in St Kilda, it was their private residence, an Art Gallery and Café. It was also the last home she shared with Georges. After 23 years of marriage Georges and Mirka separated in 1970; citing extra marital affairs on both sides, his began within a year of arriving in Australia and hers some time later. Over this time; and for some years after the separation Mirka painted the murals at Tolarno Hotel. This is one of the most beautiful examples of her art, it incorporates many elements of her colourist and symbolist style of painting. Large angels and serpents can be seen along with many other symbol’s birds, rabbits, flowers and the sun. Angels represent love and serpents represent sex. “My work is about the angels and the serpents fighting, sometimes they are happy together and sometimes they fight together” said Mirka.

Over her life time she was an avid reader, enjoying history and philosophy and believed books gave her the ability to understand life better, she had a way of taking her thoughts out of the book and into the everyday. She was particularly fond of Freud. Freud believed in the importance of the unconscious mind and the power of sexuality. His writings teach that it is a part of nature to have a mixture of love and hate in close relationships. Mirka said later in life “that the affair with Georges never ended.” This is because the opposite of love is not hating, it is indifference; and I propose Mirka did not feel this towards Georges.

Me at Tolarno Hotel for a Mirka book launch. Whilst employed at Heide I enjoyed meeting and seeing Mirka around a lot and have shared fond communications with her family since, a privilege for any writer.

Mirka had become well known to the public by the early 1970s. She had held exhibitions at the Gallery of Contemporary Art; hosted by John and Sunday Reed and had several showings at the Tolarno Gallery. During 1971 she exhibited her dolls at Realities Gallery Toorak and the people loved them. Following that Mirka had a series of erotic charcoal drawings appear in Vogue. Mirka had grown and became nationally recognised, Melbournians had to share her. She also began teaching at the Council for Adult Education (CAE), an association that lasted 23 years. Mirka conducted workshops in Australia, France, USA and Japan. During her lifetime she taught everyone from children to jail inmates.

Whilst at the CAE she was awarded a Sir Zelman Cowan Award for her contribution to adult education. Her peers were receiving awards too. In 1970 Arthur Boyd was awarded The Order of the British Empire (OBE) and in 1977 Charles Blackman was awarded an OBE.

In 1978, twenty-seven years after Mirka arrived in Melbourne and the year she turned fifty she met Sidney Nolan whilst he was visiting Australia. She had attended an exhibition at the National Gallery and needed a rest, so she stepped through a doorway into an empty room, naked of paintings. Moments later Sidney Nolan entered the room and they immediately recognised each other, finally they met, having been connected for so long by many intimate friendships. Mirka was entranced by this handsome man. “I was very honoured. It was the most seductive handshake I have ever had in my life, and I’ve had a lot of handshakes. His hand in my hand said everything. His was a novel, you know, a grand novel.” When I hear this I am very moved, she was still so connected to her sexuality, just like me; and other women of our age. The simplicity of a handshake stirring such strong emotions; a fleeting moment that passes but will always be remembered for the way it made her feel. Not everything of meaning is a grand gesture. Life is made up of a series of minor moments that we choose to notice or ignore.

Reading and listening to the interviews Mirka gave throughout her life she repeatedly returned to a few key words. She often recounted what a lucky life she had. She was lucky to miss Auschwitz. Lucky to have the hands of a child. Lucky to be a painter and lucky to paint every day. Her use of the word luck forms part of her Australian identity. The French word for luck is chance, its good luck, sa bonne chance. Many French words are the same in English and when I listen to Mirka I hear that overwhelmingly she doesn’t change from the French word with the exception of luck. She didn’t say ‘it was by chance I missed Auschwitz’.

Another word that Mirka continually returned to was honour, the same in French and English. It was an honour to meet Sidney Nolan. It was an honour to receive a tube of paint from Arthur Boyd. It was an honour to have a book published about her and Georges. Honour was something she considered to be important. A person of integrity and right-mindedness who referenced honour throughout her interviews yet who also appeared to be frivolous and fun; always maintaining the child.

During the 1980s Mirka was a very busy artist and a recognisable personality on Melbourne streets. In 1986 she completed a significant mural at Flinders street station. This mural speaks to her professionalism and her commitment to the Australian public. It is a combination of mosaic and painting and took approximately a year to complete. It is a mural for everyone, combining symbols unique to her; and some special additions, like koalas. It is very inclusive and representative of our nations people.

At this time her peers continued to receive honours. Sidney Nolan being highly decorated with a Knight Bachelor in 1981, followed by The Order of Merit (OM) in 1983 and then he rounded out the decade with a Companion of the Order of Australia (AC) in 1988. In 1991 it was John Perceval’s turn with an Officer of the Order of Australia and then in 2008 David Boyd was awarded a Medal of the Order of Australia (OAM). Mirka’s turn never arrived.

Women make up approximately one third of Australia Day honours, it has been this way for decades with little change. There have been many calls by prominent Australian women for change to the system, but this strong advocacy has failed to make an impact. Furthermore, quantitative data is indicative of migrants being underrepresented in the allocation of honours. It is a national shame that Mirka was not formally recognised by the Australian Government during her lifetime. A woman who made influential strides in the development of contemporary art in Australia for more than sixty years. She enriched our cultural and creative landscape. She dedicated decades to educating others in art and her works are held in galleries around the world.

In 2002 Mirka was awarded one of France’s highest artistic honours, Officier des Arts et des Lettres. The award was presented by her long-time family friend Marcel Marceau. He stated that “This award is not just a title, it is recognition of what she has given to her country; Australia, to her country of origin; France, and to the world in general.” But the ‘big time’ Australian honours were not to be the order of the day for Mirka, she died on August 27th, 2018.

Mirka loved unconditionally, produced insane art, three sons and a nation of daughters. She deserved more than she was given. Nostalgia has me returning to the farmhouse. It is late in the day; the glass is warm to touch; the sun is setting. I can hear her voice, “I love life so much and I love all the problems as well, people are the best thing in the world.”

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