A Piece of History: Tom Bass’ Broadway Studio (Part 1)
Words from Karen Alexander and Helen Alajajian
In 2018, the Tom Bass Sculpture Studio School celebrated it 20th year at its current home on Clara Street, Erskineville. But the School has not been located at Erskineville forever – in the early days (1974 – 1998), its original home was a warehouse loft overlooking Broadway, close to the Sydney CBD. Many long-term members of our community (students and staff alike) have fond memories of Tom teaching in the Broadway space – the magic in the air was palpable, they say!
In this 3-part series, we take readers on a historical journey to remember and explore the almost mythical Broadway space, through a series of teacher and student recollections of their time with Tom there.
This week, we will hear from TBSSS workshop teacher Karen Alexander, and long-time TBSSS student Helen Alajajian, about their memories of the space.
Karen’s recollections
My first introduction to Tom Bass AM was at the original Broadway Studio. Tom began the School in 1974, in a warehouse loft overlooking Broadway, converted from a derelict and dilapidated top floor which had been unused for 10 years. Tom had painted the walls with plaster wash, being a cheaper option to paint.
As you stepped into the light-filled entry way, you climbed up the square timber stairwell to the top floor and entered another world! The tall windows lined the walls and streamed dust-light into the room, while the window pane shadows moved across the floor throughout the day. It was a magical place, as you peered out atop of the Broadway buildings – welcoming you into an artist’s world, learning in the atelier style, with students working at varying levels.
The long room was filled with many of the items that we still use today: large work tables, a plaster sink, stands and the clay bin are all part of the history of the studio school. Tom’s library of sculpture books was highly valued, and you would spend your tea break looking through them for inspiration. The Life Study was a highly valued class and you entered this haloed world of form and the figure.
Helen, too, remembers the distinctiveness of the winding staircase…
Helen’s recollections
Tom’s Broadway Studio had many flights of stairs to reach the cavernous space; its top floor windows overlooked George Street.
In 1984, my first year with Tom, he was a youthful 68 years old. In the mornings he’d run up the stairs, have his sugary cup of tea after having warmly greeted the students, and then start teaching.
Tom was the sole teacher. A new student would be guided to look at Tom’s vast collection of sculpture books in order to be inspired to recreate from an image, and Tom would know instinctively whether or not the student was capable of sculpting it. A clay maquette was often stipulated by Tom as a most useful tool in tackling the larger work. The clay bin is the same one used today containing Tom’s precious Minto clay (dug out of the ground decades ago). The student would be pushed to their limit in completing the work, and then, and only then, was the student permitted to cast. Tom was uncommonly particular about all aspects of casting and kept a friendly eye on the process. He always did the final stage of colouring in those days and the student would listen and watch.
During the Life Study class Tom would guide the students to carefully look and see; he’d also say useful and interesting things about human anatomy to help students understand what they were looking at.
At the School, abstract art was also considered a vital aspect and well worth considering. Tom once told the students that he believed Michelangelo had said “it would be possible to break a piece of marble into many fragments, each of which could be considered to be beautiful.” In other words, the form should be beautiful without it necessarily resembling a known thing.
Part of Tom’s daily routine was that, after lunch, he would get cleaned up and don his white long sleeved top and matching trousers – we thought him quite the guru! But he truly was one, as he spoke wisdom to the students, not just about sculpture, but also to do with the way of things and life. He would have his after-lunch nap and meditate, there in a secluded cordoned off part of the Studio.
A highlight of 1984 was that Tom (pictured in white left) was sculpting the two larger-than-life figures for the remaining niches of the Sydney University’s Great Hall. One was a Scholar Forming a Thought, the other An Angel Singing. The figures were so large they were sculpted horizontally. Lloyd Rees (above in the red robe) was a visitor to the Studio at that time and was instrumental in the commissioning of the works. He was a friend and mentor to Tom. It was a wonderful time as Tom would uncover the sculptures and the students could see them and also listen to Lloyd’s admiring remarks. Lloyd would also take an interest in the students’ works. Later that year the sculptures were installed and at the unveiling Lloyd Rees spoke along with other dignitaries, all wearing academic dress.
“Nil irreparable” – students who worked under Tom will remember him saying this, a daunting prospect and little comfort when a considerable amount of mending was required. But Tom would be right: the damage could be rectified. And what a marvel it would be to see one’s own finished sculpture!
Next time: we hear from TBSSS Life Study teacher, Ingrid Morley, about her recollections of the magical Broadway space.
Image Captions:
Figure 1: Dean Oliver, Stairway to Tom Bass, pen, ink and colour on Canson paper.
Figure 2: Dean Oliver, Tom Bass: Studio View, pen, ink and colour on Canson paper.
Figure 3: Archival image of the Life Study taught by Tom Bass at the Broadway Studio.
Figure 4: Photo: the Unveiling of Tom’s Great Hall sculptures at the University of Sydney (photo courtesy of Helen Alajajian)