Terra Tasmania: One man and his dream

Enroute to Strahan there is a simple sign on the side of the road that directs you to The Wall.

This is a must-visit exhibition.

The Wall is the creation of wood sculptor, Greg Duncan, who has spent 7 years of his life, creating his particular dream. Inspired to sculpt the tale of hinterland Tasmania he is doing so in bas-relief on large wooden panels, mainly of Huon pine. His complete work he calls: The Wall.

The Wall will take three more years for Greg to complete. Two massive interlocking panels each 50 metres long and 3 metres high will then be covered in extraordinary carvings, which have been hoisted back to back to sit in pride of place in the central aisle of a massive purpose-built gallery that is just as meticulously crafted as its magnificent piece of art.

The only other single piece of art of this magnitude that I have seen is the Bayeux tapestry. And this piece is just as breathtaking and shows Greg Duncan to be one of the finest wood sculptors in the world.

With a hammer, chisel, sandpaper and oil he creates images of a living, breathing, straining, bleeding Tasmania. In his teamster scene you can almost hear wood grinding against the taut metal of the team chains; you see horses rump muscles bulging hard with their heavy load, and feel the sweat pouring from the brows of bent workmen.

Greg is able to make wood move like flesh and blood, crumple like creased paper, yet look as soft and pliable as old leather worn smooth.

This display was quite possibly the single most amazing thing we saw in Tasmania. And not just because it is an extraordinary piece of work, but because Greg Duncan, has unwittingly, fallen upon the recipe for continued success.

Here is this humble, almost shy man, with a simple grand passion as a driving force. He has no formal training in art, sculpture, or woodwork. He looks a bit like one of the teamsters or the road builders that he sculpts. And, in truth, they all look a lot like him, as no doubt he is his own model. It probably wouldn't dawn on him to ask someone to work as hard as he does and model for him. His efforts and skill have grown out of trial and error and an all-consuming drive to create this piece, and now to finish it. Before it finishes him. He has a baker's cyst on the back of his knee -- from straining and high across the panels chiselling, digging out, polishing, sanding until the wee small hours.

He found a quiet spot to sculpt his panels. Around that he thought to construct a roof and walls to store his ongoing work.

It just so happens that practically every tourist that ever there was in Tasmania needs to pass his gallery. Heading either east to Hobart, or west to Strahan.

So, even when the last panel is just swept-up sawdust in the recycle trash, Greg Duncan's work will still be there. When he has moved on to other projects in other parts of the world this gallery will not move. Tourists will come as long as Tasmania has tourists.

Each of them, if they have not heard of him beforehand, will see a simple sign on the side of the road that says: The Wall. His entrance is wide and inviting. They will be tempted to drive in, wondering what on earth the wall is. And for the simple modest fee of just $10 they will be enter, only to be transported.

As if it was always meant to be.

*Images: Launitz, James, in The Wall, By Greg Duncan. Hobart, Tasmania: Forty Degrees South Pty Ltd. 2009.