The $527,727 sale of her of pink planets, 2014, in 2023 was the highest result for a living Australian female artist. On November 27, auction house Menzies puts up a massive five-panel work, the heart land, for which it has set a $1.2 to $1.6 million guide.
And just over a week ago, Barton opened a sellout commercial show, the more than human world, at New York gallery Albertz Benda. It is her fourth show in the US, making her one of the few Australian contemporary artists to resonate in the world’s most lucrative art market, albeit sluggish for now.
But like many high-performing career women of a certain age – at the peak of having mastered their craft – the onslaught of menopause jars with her finely honed workaholism.
“Menopause hits you like a sledgehammer, and how can you be the best iteration of a leader while your body is doing things that you have no control over,” she says, her voice full of exasperation. “The changes are quite diminishing and challenging.”
Working on her physical health, prioritising time in the ocean and sunshine, and building a dream studio in Whale Beach to escape the city hustle are how Barton hopes to answer her body’s demands for a slower, more soothing pace. The irony is that, beyond the menopausal challenges, which are immense, Barton feels like she is entering an exciting new chapter for her art.
The daughter of a teacher and a gardener, she has been open about mental health struggles since adolescence. While remaining private on the trauma that caused them, it was a central theme in her early work as Barton used art as therapy.
But after motherhood, she found a new mode of expression, all while keeping the female experience centred. A self-portrait with her two young children won the Archibald Prize in 2008 (her second win, for a portrait of actor Hugo Weaving, came five years later).
“My work up until [motherhood] was sort of embarrassingly angsty, and I don’t want to dis on my younger self, you know, the trauma was real, but then there was suddenly just all this love and abundance and joy and silliness and mess,” she says.
And how about now? “I have in the past made work that felt full, for example, of female rage,” Barton says. “At this stage in my life ... it’s hard to find the perfect word, but perhaps a little bit more embodied, a little bit softer.”
The New York show, which runs until December 13, is installed on deep purple walls painted at the artist’s request. Part jewellery box, part womb, it lends a sense of warmth and pageantry.
Adorned with black spectacles and chunky jewellery – a mixture of pearls, heavy metal rings as pendants and bright pink plastic hoop earrings – Barton is as maximalist in life as in art. She has her hair in a trademark skyscraper bun and erupts often in vivacious, slightly nervous laughter.
Speaking before opening night – it can be “harrowing” seeing works digested by the public for the first time – Barton says she aims to create an intense energy that draws the viewer into the world on canvas.
