After our move from to Sunnyside, in the heart of the city, we found a lovely home. After a few years, that house was sold and we were scrambling to find another home in the area. Through the Jewish-community a house became available just up the street from us. The newly rented five-bedroom, a mock-Tudor-style house built in 1930, came with peppercorn trees surrounding it for shade. After 30 years of growth, the root structure of the trees started to lift the foundation and cracks appeared on the walls. The rent reflected the structure defect and other shortcomings.
Linah, our new nanny, made the move with us and it didn't take long for her to make new friends in the neighbourhood. At this time both my older sisters married and left the household. Now with a five bedroom house, there was plenty of room for a studio, my room and darkroom for photography.
This house move also coincided with my father's transition from house painter to portrait painter. There was no real definition to where the in-house studio started or stopped. Paintings lined the walls and hallways and found their way into bedrooms and the kitchen. There was a steady flow of people coming and going through the house-studio. The more prominent ones had their portraits painted.
In slow times, my father practised his technique with my brother or me as models. The process was a long and tedious one, which required us to remain in the same pose for hours. These sessions could run for days while we painfully watched other kids at play. It didn't take us long to spot the telltale signs indicating my father was getting in the mood to paint. We would quietly slip out the back door and stay away all afternoon. The dog wasn't a good candidate, so that left only Linah to pose.
There are not many studies of my brother nor me, but many of Linah Makokolo.
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