My favourite recollection among art events in Perth this week is that of Keith Sinclair singing his own version of My Favourite Things.  This is a song made famous by Julie Andrews in the musical The Sound of Music and one I remember performing myself many years ago in the family lounge room to assorted housewives in the interests of earning a bit of lolly money.

Keith's rendition occurred in a relatively more conspicuous location, the recent Gotham X 10 opening at PICA.  He had the aficionados of the art world listening with bated breath to see who and what would emerge as 'a favourite thing'.  Amid the hushed attention I, myself, was transfixed by this striking new kind of performing art criticism (nearly as inventive as 'internet currency', i.e., these thoughtful meditations upon artistic intangibles coming to you in hyperspace that I am creating here).

I would like to relate that Keith's new, very latest version of My Favourite Things had all the advantages of surprise and vivacious delivery, indeed it struck me as a heartfelt performance by an artist authentically immersed in his work.  Casting my mind back, over years of openings, only one comparison springs to mind - Elwyn Lynn delivering the opening to a Sidney Nolan exhibition of self-pastiched Ned Kelly paintings at the old Undercroft Gallery (now the illustrious Lawrence Wilson).  To make a long story short, Elwyn had a list too (of genius's) and put Sir Sid on it.  He did it with the same elusive quality of assurance exhibited by Sir Keith in singing out his list.

Yes, without assurance art criticism is nothing and I am here to assure anyone that Keith's dulcet tones and golden boy looks will never be forgotten by me.  I suppose it can be explained as one memorable moment of imponderable mastery and, also, the list of things was so long that I can't remember a single person or art work on it.  A small impercipient slip on the part of your faithful observer, but there you have it.