Pro Hart, the town’s celebrated artist and one of the iconic Brushmen of the Bush, lived just down the road. For Elliott, he wasn’t merely a famous neighbour—he was living proof of possibility.
“We were all so proud of him,” she recalls, “a local who made it big on the international stage.” The Brushmen of the Bush, a collective formed in the 1970s and ’80s, featured Hart alongside fellow artists Eric Minchin, Jack Absalom, John Pickup, and Hugh Schulz. Together, they transformed the outback into a vibrant canvas, hosting over 50 exhibitions worldwide, raising more than $1.6 million for charity, and showcasing their work in cultural hubs like London, Rome, and New York.
“They made us proud,” Elliott says, “of them and our town.” Hart’s journey, a testament to self-taught determination, resonated deeply with her. It offered a quiet challenge, reminding her that becoming an artist was achievable—even through unconventional paths.
“I didn’t fully realise this until my 40s,” she reflects. “Knowing that Pro Hart was self-taught and achieved so much has been comforting when feelings of imposter syndrome arise, as I am also self-taught.”
Elliott’s own artistic trajectory has been as dynamic as her work. The early 2000s saw her penning satirical cartoons that dissected Australia’s political climate. Her first solo exhibition, BusHoward at The Wheatsheaf Hotel in 2004, confronted the country’s asylum seeker crisis with raw, unflinching pieces. The work was bold, brash, and unafraid to tackle uncomfortable truths. But, like any creative path, change was inevitable. In 2018, a documentary on Jackson Pollock reignited her passion for painting, shifting her focus toward abstraction.
“When I started painting six years ago, I literally finger-painted for the first few years because I was too nervous about using a brush,” she admits.
As time went by, I gradually got the courage to use a paintbrush and now discover lots of things through happy accidents.
“Abstract art helps me translate my emotions more than if I were recreating a scene or object. It’s about capturing a mood rather than something recognisable.”
This evolution is evident in Radiance, her current exhibition at Bricks & Stones Café. The show, a celebration of the LGBTQIA+ community, is imbued with the same textured vibrancy that marks much of her work. “My art isn’t always about the connection to the LGBTQIA+ community, but when I create work especially for it, I’m standing on the shoulders of the people who have paved the way for my visibility and hopefully, my work will contribute to the next generation’s as well,” she says.
In her miniature collages, Elliott repurposes scraps of dried paint—material that would often be discarded—to represent the overlooked members of the LGBTQIA+ community. “My artwork for the 2024 Feast Festival program cover featured one of these miniature dried paint collages. I likened the scraps of leftover, seemingly unimportant pieces that would be waste, to the feelings we sometimes have as individuals in the LGBTQIA+ community, especially when we are rejected or overlooked because of our ‘otherness’.”
“When we’re all together for Feast, every individual makes up a spectacular, organically eclectic community, like the dried paint sculpture, that is beautiful for the sum of its parts.”
Her studio, shared with her family and Alfie, her dog, is where she finds the motivation to keep going. “That stage when you hate what you’re creating? That’s when I step away and come back later,” she shares. For Elliott, the studio is more than a workspace—it’s a place where doubts are confronted head-on and where, much like her neighbour Hart once did, she finds beauty in persistence. Her journey is as much about art as it is about the belief that creativity flourishes through connection, family, and the determination to keep trying.
Find Lissy Elliott’s work at lissyelliott.com.au or @lissyelliottcreations
