Barry Lett, artist

A broken down scooter unleashed a chain of events, which saw Barry Lett spark a revolution that would change the New Zealand art scene forever. In the 1960s, Barry formed one of the country’s first dealer galleries, creating a space for contemporary artists such as Colin McCahon and Toss Woollaston to exhibit, and building a platform for Kiwi artists to forge a career. He has since dedicated his time to becoming an artist in his own right, and has been creating another kind of revolution in his backyard – bringing back the song of native birds to Mahurangi. But during his formative years, it was a cricket bat rather a paintbrush which was usually in Barry’s hand. He spoke to Mahurangi Matters reporter George Driver at his home high on the Tawharanui Peninsular, as kaka cackled in the neighbouring forest …
 
At primary school I was very keen on art. I could draw things the other kids couldn’t, so I was always the person who did illustrations for class projects. But when I reached high school that all went on the backburner – I became an obsessive cricketer. Growing up in the Hawkes Bay, that was my life. The highlight of my cricketing career was facing Australian fast-bowler Jeff Thomson, who is still considered as the fastest bowler of all time. I gave up cricket when I left high school, but I took it up again when I was 30 and started playing for the Grafton Cricket Club. We had a short Australian tour in 1974, playing against other club teams. Thomson was recovering from a broken ankle and was playing for a club team while he was getting back in form. We all completely freaked out. He made a couple of quick wickets and I found myself facing him. The first ball made a sound I’d never heard from a cricket ball. I managed to make a few drives and made it through his overs. The following year he was recorded bowling at 160kph.
 
I wanted to get out of Hawkes Bay as soon as I could and went to teachers college in Wellington when I was 17. In my third year of training I started getting back into art and gave up cricket. In the 1950s, the idea of being a sportsman and an artist wasn’t acceptable – being an artist wasn't seen as a manly thing to do. The two worlds didn’t meet. After I graduated, I started studying an adult education art course at Victoria University, which was run by artist, Paul Olds. I only had enough money for one lesson a week, but he would sneak me into other classes. After two years I decided I wanted to take my art further, so I moved to Auckland and enrolled at Elam School of Fine Arts, at the University of Auckland. I was determined to ride my Lambretta motor-scooter from the Hawkes Bay to Auckland, but it broke down at Taupo and I had to hitch-hike the rest of the way. When I arrived in Auckland late that night I found myself homeless – I had left my notebook with my scooter, which had all my addresses and contacts in it. I went to the only coffee shop that was open that time of night – probably the only cafe in Auckland at the time – and by chance, I met a friend from Wellington. He told me a room was available above an art gallery and I ended up moving in there.
 
The landlord was an artist who exhibiting her own work. She had the same work on show for six months and it was deserted. I suggested she hold an exhibition with work from my fellow students and I ended up organising it. It was a great success and artists kept on contacting me to sell their work and I found I had become a de facto art dealer. That became my life for the next 10 years. In 1965, I started Barry Lett Galleries in upper Victoria Street. There were no other dealer galleries in Auckland at the time – contemporary artists didn’t have anywhere they could show their work and hope to make any money. As a result, no-one could afford to do art fulltime and they mostly worked as school teachers or house painters. I wanted to establish a gallery that would allow artists to become professionals. We became pioneers. NZ was quite backward in the 1960s – there was still 6 o’clock closing, there weren’t really any nice restaurants or cafes, and fashion and urban design just didn’t exist. I remember one woman coming into the gallery and scowling at every painting before tearing up the catalogue in my face. But that wasn’t typical and we started to build a following. For a while, we had almost every important NZ artist showing with us – Colin McCahon, Ralph Hotere, Toss Woollaston, Milan Mrkusich, Don Binney, Michael Illingworth, Pat Hanly and later Tony Fomison and Philip Clairmont. It was a wild time. James K Baxter was in his ‘prophet phase’ and started using the gallery as his office. He would sit in front of his typewriter, close his eyes and cast his head back for minutes at a time, and then ferociously hammer at the keyboard with one finger like a machine gun, before closing his eyes and going back into his head. The poet Hone Tuwhare and Frank Sargeson would also stop in.
 
The gallery had its ups and downs, but the bills were steady and we really struggled for periods. I was ready to become an artist in my own right, but we owed a lot of money to the artists, so I stayed on and worked hard until we could repay our debts. I finally sold the gallery to Rodney Kirk Smith in 1975, but there was one last hurdle. I didn’t realise, but Rodney intended to keep the name, Barry Lett Galleries. I wanted to be an artist – not forever cast as an art dealer – but he refused to change it. A few years later Billy Apple was holding an exhibition at the gallery, where he made ‘subtractions’, or alterations to the gallery, which he presented as an art installation. I said to him ‘I want to do a subtraction of my own’. At the exhibition opening, while everyone was upstairs in the gallery drinking wine, I came along with a ladder and an axe and cut down the gallery sign and hacked it to pieces on the pavement – what I called ‘performance art’. Rodney called the Police and I was arrested and charged with wilful damage. But he did change the name after that.
 
I’ve never been able to make much money from my art, but about 25 years ago I sold a Colin McCahon painting and I was able to purchase land near Tawharanui with my partner, Ree Anderson. I purchased the painting when I was 24 and paid it off at a guinea a week for 40 weeks. It turned out to be a good investment. When we came to Takatu the bush was completely eaten away by cattle and goats. It would have died if we hadn’t fenced it off. There was no re-growth. Now it’s finally regenerating. I’ve had an affinity for nature since I was a child. My father would take us camping to the bush in Hawkes Bay. I’ve loved the bush ever since. I became a founding member of TOSSI in 2002. One of our first projects was fundraising $680,000 for a predator-proof fence. I suggested turning the woolshed into an art gallery and holding an exhibition. I knew it was something artists would get behind and it became a huge success. We raised $26,000 the first year and we’ve held several exhibitions since.
 
My other conservation project has been planting natives to encourage native birds. The birds starve in the winter because there aren’t enough native plants to sustain them. I feed kaka and tui every day and, out of desperation, they have completely lost their sense of fear. Six years ago we had kaka nesting in a puriri tree on our property. It’s believed to be the first time they’ve nested here for 60 years.
 
I think the art world has changed a lot since the 1960s. It is much easier for artists to make a living now, but because of the number of artists and range of work, it is spread very thinly and a lot of the top quality art is getting passed and isn’t getting the recognition it deserves. It’s getting lost. I’ve been a fulltime artist for 40 years now, battling away with some success and some neglect. That’s been the bulk of my life and I’ve never had an inclination to do anything else. It can be incredibly difficult, being an artist. It’s a lonely business, so you’ve got to be committed. Self-doubt is par for the course. But as you become more aware of your strengths and weaknesses you start making choices that hopefully put you on the right path. I’ve found over the last few years that I’m starting to realise the potential I hoped I had. I just hope I live long enough to have a late blossoming.