Gay Hawkes: Truly Seen

Gay Hawkes seated in her Sedan Chair, 2020, recycled pallet wood, enamel paint, castors, 1230 x 480 x 560mm

Words: Carol Russell
Photos: Peter Whyte

I met with Gay Hawkes at her home in late 2022. It was one of the most extraordinary few hours I’ve ever spent with anyone. I had planned to write an article about her and her work for Australian Wood Review. It’s an article I had set aside only to complete years later, but I’d like to take you back to that rainy day when I sat down with Gay Hawkes.

24 September 2022, Grand Final Day: It’s pouring with rain as I reach the top of the hill, I can see a dirt road ahead leading down to the ocean. The scene is wild and untamed. Marion Bay curves around and I can see spectacular steep cliffs either side, ghostly in the mist. There is an expanse of saltmarsh before you get to the dunes and the ocean beyond. I stop the car and get out, taking in the scene, this is Tasmania’s wild south-east coast.

Marchwell Chair (2014–5), Eucalyptus, horizontal scrub, pallet wood, 2205 x 900 x 780mmm

I’m here to visit Gay Hawkes, sculptor, teacher, furniture maker and artist. Gay’s exhibition at the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery in Hobart (TMAG), entitled The House of Longing stopped me in my tracks. It was an extraordinary collection of her furniture, paintings, sculptures, writing and performance. I was very moved by the narrative and the expansiveness of her work.

I felt compelled to meet her and more than a little daunted. I’d been familiar with her work as a teenager growing up in Tasmania. I had been in awe of her, the memory of these pieces had settled in my subconscious and when I saw the beautifully curated rooms full of them at TMAG, the feelings of excitement flooded back. I wasn’t expecting the intricate paintings and poems and art books or the heart wrenching story of the loss of her beloved boathouse studio.

Self portrait as child, 2020, wood and found dolls head, 410 x 100 x 65mm

Gay’s story is one that straddles continents and disciplines and societal attitudes over four decades. There’s nothing trite in her conversation and although she may appear frail on this rainy Saturday morning in the draughty converted shed that she’s made her home, she’s not to be taken lightly.

Her home is full of art and colour, memories and humour, a large cardboard (then) Prince Charles watches over us. I’m as delighted as a child to see these wonders. Gay Hawkes is a force of nature, she is formidable in her intellect with a quick, dry wit.

Tree Person Fire Sculpture, 2013, cardboard, pallet timbers, 1830mm high (work destroyed)

Gay had made me scones and we drink coffee by the wood stove from fine Noritake shell-like cups that belonged to her mother. She has been unable to rebuild after the fire. She tells me of the hardship she’s endured and has channelled much of the pain of this into her sculptures, paintings and poetry.

I really like her, I knew I would. I want her to like me. I try not to talk too much, I’m here to listen and as she begins to talk, I start to understand how important an artist she is. There’s a ferocity to her, an indefinable energy.

What-Not (2013), Eucalyptus, plywood, 820 x 670 x 710mmm

We talk as two makers, comparing notes. I record the discussion, and listening to these tapes again, I’m so touched by the tenderness in her comments about my own work as we talk about how as artists, artisans, craftspeople or makers, no matter how we define ourselves, what we want is for our work to be truly seen by others. Gay takes a moment, is silent and truly sees the pieces I have bought to show her.

She is taken with a boat I’ve made. We talk about the ancient almost mythical qualities of boats, and she tells a story of a sculpture containing a boat she made as a response to the tragic incident of a young man from Stanley who sets off in a boat on Bass Strait, he is drowned and the boat lost. She tells me she made the sculpture out of incredible feeling for Bass Strait as she was brought up there.

Mum’s China Cabinet (2014–5), recycled pallet wood, engraved acrylic, 1305 x 570 x 560mmm

The work was featured in an exhibition in Sydney and the father of the boy happened to go to the exhibition, saw the sculpture and bought it. Gay said it was one of the most gratifying things that had ever happened to her; the family got in touch with her, the work had touched them deeply.

I remember Gay had said in an ABC interview that she doesn’t set out to make any artwork, she just makes what’s in her head. One of the stories that really resonated with me was when Gay described a scene from the early years of her career. She talks about having made a small stool and catching a glimpse of it through a window from outside. She felt so much delight at the sight of it, a feeling, she says that has never left her when she finishes a piece.

Gay Hawkes’ workshop is adjacent to her kitchen.

Timeline

Gay Hawkes was born in Burnie in 1942. Her father made the furniture in their home and her mother sewed their clothes, so creating things from what was available was a way of life for the family.

She graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in 1962. She went on to become a teacher in Tasmania, the UK and Canada. Education and facilitating creativity in others have been a cornerstone of her life. She has worked extensively as a teacher in jails, schools, remote communities with First Nations people as well as mental health units and community arts programs.

Workshop view of Marion Bay Chair, 2023, found wood, shells, kelp, sticks, 1130 x 603 x 630mm

For a while, Gay worked in administration for Tasmanian Theatre in Education and became a Community Arts Officer. This led to her enrolling in an Associate Diploma majoring in furniture and design at the Tasmanian School of Art in 1979 under the tutelage of renowned Tasmanian furniture maker Kevin Perkins.

Gay explains how she wanted to go her own way and experiment. She wasn’t interested in the traditional methods of dressing and processing timber and making the material fit together using conventional joinery. Weaving together found objects, horizontal scrub, driftwood and discarded pieces, she could challenge the traditional idea of furniture, drawing on the narrative inherent in the materials. She experimented with green timber in the tradition of pioneering families andthe craft revival of the 1970s.

Some of Gay Hawkes’ creations with found shells

The material would be processed as little as possible, highlighting the weathered textures, bark and worn painted surfaces. Her pieces were designed around these features and the finished work carried the origins of the material with it, transformed but still recognisable.

Gay had a young family at this time. With support and encouragement from Kevin Perkins in the form of a letter of recommendation, she managed to secure a professional development grant from the Crafts Board of the Australia Council which gave her the resources to develop her sculptural practice.

Singing Cupboard (2014), recycled pallet wood, plywood

She moved to Melbourne with her children in the mid 1980s and tells me how she received incredible support and recognition. Gay was able to sell her pieces through galleries and was featured in magazines and on television. She had found her place in the art world, a contrast from her experience in Tasmania at the time where she had struggled to find an audience for her work.

In 1988, Gay was chosen to represent Australia at an international sculpture symposium in Trondheim in Norway. Due to the scale of her work, it couldn’t travel with her, so she had to make new work there. She evocatively describes making a chair in the snow with another artist and a trip to a small island strewn with driftwood. It was a highly productive time, and she reflects on it with great pleasure.

Hanging Cupboard (2014–5), recycled pallet wood, 600 x 390 x 310mmm

This was the beginning of a series of residencies, all over the world. Gay travelled to New Zealand, Russia, Ireland (three times), Georgia, and Armenia, a place she describes with great fondness. I love her story about being given an apartment with a Russian piano that she was able to play. She describes the flowers in the street and the vibrant clothes of the women, and the influence of these images can be seen in many of her paintings; her love of colour and pageantry permeate through her work.

Back in Tasmania, one of the most significant chapters in her life was running the Dunalley Children’s Chair Factory, where she would teach children the value of being able to explore their creativity. An old boat shed on the water, it was an idyllic setting where the children would swim, eat homemade scones and Gay would teach them to work with wood and paint and other materials, encouraging them to think in a fresh way.

Untitled hanging cabinet, pallet wood

Then, in the 2013 fires, along with some 65 homes and buildings in the tiny Dunalley community, came the devastating loss of her home and studio with its vast collection of her own work, books and objects spanning 40 years. It marked an end to this magical time.

Deciding not to rebuild after so much loss, Gay sold the land in Dunalley but found it almost impossible to find somewhere she could afford. The House of Longing exhibition was about her desire to once again have a house. In her words: ‘After The fire, I set about again making the pieces for a house, thirty-one in all, while house prices rose sky high like smoke’.

Bookstand in pallet timbers

Gay Hawkes produced a book of poetry alongside the exhibition entitled From the Busy Machinery of Longing – A Miscellany of Thoughts After Bushfire. These poems are heartbreaking and so eloquently describe the emptiness and loss not only of possessions but of community.

Gay Hawkes has a long legacy and has made a huge contribution to the artistic landscape in Australia. Her work is featured in the National Gallery of Australia, the Australian Parliament House Collection and the Australian War Memorial Collection as well as many other significant collections.

She has pioneered the use of discarded materials and objects, reinterpreting them into pieces of sculpture and furniture that is housed in galleries all over the world. One of her most enduring legacies will be as an educator, a person that has lit a creative spark in others and inspired people to see the world around us and the objects discarded by humans and nature in a different light.

It was nearly two o’clock... I had to go, the grand final was about to start, and Gay had made it clear she wanted to sit down and watch it in peace. The pageantry and theatre of football is closely followed by her, something I wasn’t expecting.

I head down to the wild ocean nearby, the wind making my eyes stream and the waves so high I can hardly see beyond them.

I’m so grateful for that day with Gay Hawkes and I hope she can forgive me for taking so long to write this article. I’ll let one of Gay’s poems have the final word.

On Why Birds Sing
The other day, I said to my neighbour,
“I must go now because I’m trying to make a kangaroo.
”Why?” she asked Why, why ask why? Because I must. Because I have the image in my head and it must come out. Because making something in three dimensions is the most satisfying thing I know.
Why do birds sing?

First published in Australian Wood Review, issue 128, September 2025

All photos copyright Peter Whyte Photography, Tasmania

The House of Longing showed at Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery in 2022. In 2025 Gay Hawkes showed an exhibition titled Seaborne at Narryna in Hobart with Bett Gallery. This exhibition builds on the earlier one with some recent works added to the collection.

* Sadly, Gay Hawkes died 15 September, 2025 very soon after this article was published, please see here