Martin Luther was a bit of a prick really, I never did like having him over to stay. He was so fucking impatient, always banging on the bathroom door while I was trying to back-one-out in peace-and-quiet. I was glad to see the back of him when he moved out.
We had a string of back-packers to stay in the spare room after that. The Irish were much more fun to have around the house, they had none of the hang-ups Martin had. He was always bitching about fucking Catholics, indulgences or justification by faith and he just wouldn’t shut the fuck up about the priesthood-of-all-believers.
We kept telling him, shut up Martin, no one gives a shit – how wrong we turned out to be. My advice, if you have a choice, rent the spare room out to an alcoholic, Irish backpacker over a zealot any time. Mind you, some of the Irish did their fair share of whining about the Catholics but that was more of a nationalist-proddy-pride thing than anything sinister, and they weren’t fixated about it like Martin.
Anyway, the work… the lamp shade is real by the way… illumination, the light, the same lamp between both heads but there may not be the same understanding.
The empty table, nothing there, no internal conversation happening. The table is bare. Looking at you the viewer, outside, your comment is…? A spare chair to have a conversation or meal.
The figure at table – a bit bored, questioning, self portrait? Not happy with this set-up, have read a few books – the books behind the head like a thought bubble – I am forming an opinion here.
The lounge room is the same one in the dinner scene from the film Strings. I think it was 50 Church St, Balmain, NSW.
The full title of this oil painting is Luther In My Lounge Room. It was sold at an exhibition long ago. I’d love to know where it is so please feel free to get in touch if you have it.