Fibro. Brick veneer. Stegbar. Pebblecrete. Laminex. Masonite. Galvanised Iron. Slate. Tin. Wood. Even blindfolded you hear these words and know where you are. It’s not Paris. But somewhere closer, in the antipodes, in the realm of ordinary dwellings. Houses so familiar you feel you know them even if you have never stepped inside them.
Domestic materials. Random scenery. The view from the car window or the silent walk. Peter O’Doherty has painted them for a long time. Habituating his steady hand to driveways, sealed doors, drawn curtains and half open blinds. He regards the houses he paints as portraits and persists until he finds humanity within a standardised product.
– Anna Johnson, 2016 (catalogue essay)
