I met Wendy Whiteley once at a book launch. We sat on the steps of an art gallery and talked about the weird root systems of Morton Bay fig trees. When I next visited Sydney, I dragged myself up high above the harbour until I found Wendy’s secret garden in Lavender Bay. I cried a little there for a few reasons, but mainly because I was immensely affected by the Whiteleys’ impact on Australia’s cultural identity and by Wendy’s big-heartedness to us, the visitors. Wendy says about her gardening: ‘I’ve loved making this garden. It’s been a great gift to my life. It let me find myself again, and it’s my gift to share with the public.’

Hawley’s position on Wendy is, understandably, one of awe. Hawley records the wretched story of how Brett Whiteley’s death in 1992 forced Wendy into landscaping action. Her daughter’s death less than 10 years later compelled her to continue. This garden, so strikingly recorded here in this superb book, has become part of the glory of Sydney harbour and includes sculptures, seating, nature paths, plants selected for colour and for texture, as well as said Moreton Bay fig trees. For more than 20 years Wendy has worked to change the original railway rubbish dump into a landscaped wonderland. Hawley talks about Wendy as an artist herself, with a fine sense of placement and style. Brett Whiteley’s paintings are acknowledged and many are represented in the outstanding colour pages of this book, alongside photos of Wendy’s parkland, from all angles, by the very gifted photographer Jason Busch. This is truly a glorious book about a woman’s elegy to her family and legacy for her country.

Chris Gordon