When I was a primary school kid, I got to visit the National Gallery of Victoria. I reckon it was my mum who took me, but it might’ve been a school thing she attached herself to, as she often did. Back then, it was a bit of a frustration, having her tag along, but in hindsight, I’m glad she was there.
There was one moment that really snapped me out of my usual boredom – this sport-loving, TV-watching, street-playing kid suddenly caught by surprise. Modigliani’s portrait of Mr Humbert just stopped me in my tracks.
I stood there, staring up at the painting, completely hooked.
The face was stretched and smooth, like an oval – it didn’t look like any real face I’d ever seen, but somehow it felt even more real. The colours were soft and warm, browns and deep blues with a hint of orange, making the painting almost glow.
Shadows curved around the eyes, which looked back at me with a quiet sadness I couldn’t put into words. My eyes followed the long, thin neck, amazed at how a few simple lines could look so graceful. The longer I looked, the more I felt drawn into the portrait, like I was in the presence of someone who understood things I hadn’t figured out yet.
That moment stuck with me, and it came flooding back recently when I used the portrait as a ‘tuning-in’ tool with a Year 8 art class at Corinda State High. Hopefully, my words captured for them what I saw and felt that day – showing my admiration for this painting and how it shifted my view.
Something small but special happened in that class at Corinda. Using a ‘Check in Circle,’ I was reminded that as a teacher, I have the chance to admire so many things about students – their interests, quirks, strengths, and the small wins that often go unnoticed in the hustle of the school year.
After sharing my Modigliani story, I was quietly pleased – and a bit surprised – to see these 13- and 14-year-olds take an interest.
“Tell me about something artistic that you connect to,” I said.
“Take some time, turn and talk to a friend, and get ready to share in the circle. I might ask you first!”
As we went around, I heard a lot about music and musicians – until a Year 8 boy piped up with, “I really connect with surrealism!” His confidence, clarity, and enthusiasm sparked a ripple of interest, head nodding with approval all around.
It gave him a chance to share more, letting his classmates see a different side of him.
A quick chat with Julie, his Art Teacher, was the icing on the cake. She learned something new about this student – something she could build on in future lessons, a moment of admiration she could carry forward.
As a teacher, taking an ‘admiring lens’ into the classroom – making it part of how we show up each day – doesn’t just make our day; it changes the day for our students.
It’s about looking for their wins, noticing their small moments.
So, pay attention, share your stories, and listen to theirs. You never know what you might discover.
