The Heysen House

Well it had to happen.

Here I was blaming two days of crushing fatigue and a snotty nose on my much-maligned sinuses. It wasn't until the lurgy struck Roger with much sneezing, spluttering, and a high temperature that he did a test which confirmed his case of covid and, by proxy, mine.  The advisory website informed us that we should, as a matter of best practice, isolate until symptoms had gone.  "But I feel fine this morning," I declared, happy that I could still attend the tour of Hans Heysen's studio, home, and garden which I had booked for 2pm that afternoon.  Off I went then, sister in tow, leaving Roger to share his misery with the cat and a packet of Panadol.

We left early for touristic purposes, visiting the top of Mount Lofty to appreciate the panoramic view of Adelaide to which every new visitor must be subjected.

Despite being overcast and cool, the view was quite clear.  I could see the container ships out to sea beyond Semaphore. In the foreground the city huddled, embraced by parklands.

 

Down below Mt Lofty we took a quick stroll around the Mt Lofty Botanical Gardens. Just the flattish bits at the bottom, mind you, due to a certain tiredness in the legs.

This being the tail end of summer there were very few flowers, just a hundred different shades of green.

The exception being sunflowers, of course.

Further down the hill, in Hahndorf, some precocious trees had eschewed summer in favour of an early colour change.

We strolled the streets of Hahndorf, appreciating the beautiful buildings and affirming our mutual belief that tourist tat was tourist tat wherever you were. By this time I had to stop for a bit of a sit down, suggesting I wasn't as fine as I thought I was but also showing that lunch and a nice cup of tea could give anyone a second wind before they went off to find out all about one of their favourite artists.

Hahndorf doors.  A solid set of doors is always worth a photograph.

Comtemplating old stone buildings.  I've gotten somewhat used to these now: it was cool to see it all again through her Queensland eyes.

Handorf was but the bucolic background to our main event: a tour of Hans Heysen's home, garden, and art studio. Hans Heysen came to Australia as a child with his family, driving the family vegetable cart before developing his career as an artist. A combination of his lifelong love affair with the gum tree and Australia's appetite for Australiana in the era of Federation ensured his place as one of Australia's best known artists. His connections, via marriage, into the upper echelons of South Australian society ensured a steady stream of the finest artists, musicians, and other cultured people through his home at The Cedars outside Hahndorf. 

Hans built his own little pop-top caravan which he used on camping/painting trips to the Flinders Ranges.  He was a man ahead of his time with regard to van life and exploration.

Hans' bespoke painting studio still exists.  The rear window, which you can't see, is a huge panel of etched glass to provide a bright and even light for painting.  The glass was imported from England by boat, securely packed in treacle.  Treacle sandwiches may have been a staple in the Heysen household in the months following the arrival of his window glass. 

Studio vignettes.

 

We took a fascinating tour through the  house, very little of which could be photographed due to the previous predilection of light fingered folks who used pictures to help them remember which items they wanted to steal on their next visit and therefore ruined things for everyone else.

Despite his avowed love for gum trees and his prolific production of gum tree painting, this remains the most popular of Hans Heysen's paintings according to our tour guide.  Which suggests that everyone loves a little human interest and Heysen's wife Sallie's contributions are appreciated.

By the time we finished the house tour I was quite worn out and retired to the outdoor cafe to recharge with another cup of tea while sister toured the garden.

Take as long as you like, sister.  This is no hardship at all.

I resisted, I truly did.  But who can resist jam and cream with flower petals and fresh scones?

 

On the way home we appreciated all over again the fantastic gum trees that lined the roads of the Adelaide Hills. Hans Heysen apparently put his money where his mouth was when it came to preserving gum trees,  paying farmers the then fantastical sum of 100 pounds to NOT cut down individual trees. This attitude of tree preservation persists in South Australia with the result that giant gum trees litter the road side, waiting for the unwary to crash into them and making for both pretty roads and stressed out road engineers.

A fine example of the gum trees which were dear to Hans Heysen's heart.

 

Back at home and having not run into any trees, we found Roger still alive and complaining bitterly that covid had robbed him of the ability to taste and therefore properly appreciate his cups of tea. This was very sad but we were all tired after our big day out, so he possibly did not get as much sympathy as he would have liked before we all dragged our covid-fatigued selves to bed. After an intensely competitive sisterly game of Quiddler, of course.

She beat me.