Marguerite Stark-Ebert

A 1930s love child with an ambitious mum, Marguerite Stark-Ebert first appeared on a London stage at the tender age of three. Her mother's grand plans for her daughter's stage and screen career were interrupted however, by the trauma of WWII. In 1954, the pair joined the throngs of "Ten Pound Poms" emigrating to Australia.  

It was in Melbourne that Marguerite met her husband Richard Stark at a dinner dance, raised two sons and built a reputation as a fine artist.  

After her death on May 3, the 91-year-old artist who taught at the Hawthorn Art Society and later lived in Rowville, was described by her son Paul Stark as having a "foot in the old world and by necessity and interest, a foot in the new world."  

"Mum never let us forget she was a product of London's prestigious Italia Conti Stage school from the age of three, at which age she claimed (without a word of exaggeration) she could already sing, play the piano, tap dance, pirouette, speak French and possibly tame elephants," he told mourners at her funeral on May 12.  

Thank you for being here to send off and celebrate the life of Marguerite.  

My version of her eulogy will miss out a lot - there's not the time to say it all.  

My mum Marguerite was a London child of the 1930s, born to Hilda, a determined and sassy single mother, and sometimes head nurse or matron, who was born in the 1890s. That's a long time ago.  

Hilda doted on her only daughter, and intended she be a star of stage and screen.  

Mum's grandfather was a renowned Italian sculptor in Plymouth. His bronze bust of Queen Victoria still stands in the Plymouth botanical park today. She was also the love child of a London doctor (Charles Colwill) who played no further part in her life.  

Mum never let us forget she was a product of London's prestigious Italia Conti Stage school from the age of three, at which age she claimed (without a word of exaggeration) she could already sing, play the piano, tap dance, pirouette, speak French and possibly tame elephants.  

Our childhood was haunted by her random bursts of Shakespeare or elocution drills.  

One of the blurry black and white photographs in today's slide show is a newspaper clipping showing a five-year-old mum presenting flowers to the London Mayoress.  

Standing behind her looking on is a suited American, in London to open his movie "Pennies from heaven." His name is Bing Crosby - the pop idol of the day.

With her mother in Australia, starting in the 1950s, they paid off the South Yarra house in five-and-a-half years (those were the days my friend). That was turned into hefty deposits on three houses in then outer-suburban Camberwell.   As my brother Matt mentioned, along the course of life Mum gravitated towards drawing and then painting, as her forte for creative expression, and vehicle for potential grand achievement.  

For a long time I think she saw herself primarily as an artist who did other things as well: Mum; Wife; Landlady; Nurse.  

I hear John Lennon said: "Life is what happens while you're trying to get something else done."  

Marguerite met my dad, Richard Stark, a dashing young fast re-establishing Polish post-war immigrant, at a dinner dance in Melbourne. The couple were married in 1958.

MARGUERITE THE ARTIST

Mum's portraits have qualified for many Archibald Prize exhibitions and fulfilled many commissions. Even more numerous were her place-scapes and semi-abstracts, which accounted for most of her sales.  

She was particularly good with colour, and texture, and such works bring a cheerful fun energy to the space they occupy.  

Mum might paint anything that didn't move - sheds were a frequent target, as was a 16-metre wall of Des's undercover patio.  

As her friend, art supporter, and collectibles professional Robyn Kelly informed me, mum was a student of George Bell's famous modern art movement of the twenties through to the sixties, when mum joined. She was part of the fourth phase apparently. He taught her to paint what you are feeling not just seeing, after which, mum discarded literalism.  

When Mum later inspired her own students at the Hawthorn Art Society, one returned the next week dragging in his door instead of a canvas.

MUM AND DAD

Dad's practicality and stability with Mum's energy and daring combined into a dynamic that powered their achievements and activities: the art shows; camping holidays; three daring mortgages in Camberwell; two kids through Grammar School (with all the bells and whistles); and eventually overseas travel.  

Their joint passion was hosting house soirees and attending dinner dances - dressed to the nines for their night of heroic glamour.  

Family and friends were a constant in their lives.

SPECIAL QUALITIES

Mum was appreciative; spontaneous; spontaneously generous; humorous; independent; irreverent; entertaining; controversial; and romantic. She was a bit of fun.  

Two months ago in the Monash Emergency Department, mum was being interviewed by the hospital physician for her health profile.  

Q: Marguerite do you smoke?

A: Yes.  

Q: Oh - how long have you been smoking for?

A: 70 years - I recommend it.  

The doctor tried, but failed to restrain his laughter.  

Yes, mum was spontaneous, sometimes even trigger-happy. For her patience was not a virtue, it was reprehensible.   Mum's stage upbringing never totally left her, and from time to time she would break out her tap dance routine, juggling of lemons or random verse of "There's no business like show business …"  

Mum was often regarded as having a flair for fashion - and how she delighted in letting us know she got most of it from the op shop.   Mum hit her projects with full frontal force. One of her 1970s projects involved a 96-year-old lady she befriended in the geriatric ward of the hospital she worked at.  

She sent that lady's poems all over the world, soliciting replies from the Queen, the Pope, US President, and renowned writers and personalities. Of course, she always added that the accompanying illustrations were by Marguerite Stark.

WITNESS TO A CHANGING WORLD

She's the last of a generation that sheltered in underground London bunkers from German bombers (before returning to their business in the city).  

She had a foot in the old world, and by necessity and interest a foot in the new world.  

In her childhood there were still the last few horse drawn carriages on London's streets, there was nothing on television because there was no television, and Tik Tok was only the sound a clock made.  

She was there to meet the arrival of: the Great Depression; Talking Movies; WWII; Sinatra; Elvis; The Beatles; Man on the Moon; Gough Whitlam; Women's Liberation; Computers; Smart Phones.  

Mum was there for the early seventies, and not to be outdone by the other trendy mothers picking up their school kids, I too had a mother who arrived in her VW beetle, in groovy short paisley dress, beehive hair and knee high boots.  

Mum, how many times we were copilots in a wood barrel down Niagara Falls? Years of work - property, legal disputes, tribunals, renting, finance, building, financial restructuring - not easy, but we got through. Everyone played their part, and everyone benefited.

WINNING THE JACKPOT

Independent - Mum got on with making her own life, at all ages. She was not going to live her life through her kids, or be a home-bound granny living by herself. On moving to Rowville, aged in her seventies, she hit the ground running - joining up with every type of group going, including becoming the resident art teacher for some time at the University of the Third Age.  

Then for good measure, she flew off for a year and a half to live in Winchester England. Good on you Matt for coaxing her back.  

Of course as Matt described, on returning it was at one of those social groups where she met one Desmond Memory. Jackpot! First prize -16 years of happy supportive relationship.  

I'm told she brazenly chatted Des up on an a Senior Citz bus tour, leaning back over her seat to do so. He never stood a chance - if Mum liked someone (and that was by no means certain) she'd usually win them over.  

For decades I have caught up with Mum and the family each Sunday evening. This would typically end in mum and I sharing a chat and movie together.  

I enjoyed our movie time, and I'll miss it mum.   You had a laugh with mum, she could be a lot of fun, and was great company - easy to be with, and not needy, or unnecessarily demanding.

LAST DAYS

Mum was brave in facing her passing, and dealing with gusts of intense pain, with no prospect of recovery or improvement.  

She decided she wanted out of her body, and made that clear in a quite matter of fact way.  

She said 91 was pretty good, and she'd had a good life, except for the very end. Even then she still listed off the things she was grateful for - though hospital food wasn't one of them.  

Mum said her own mum Hilda had more personality in her little finger than most people have in their whole body - well like mother, like daughter I s'pose.  

Mum liked the singer Liza Minnelli, and her seventies song Cabaret, and some of the lines capture the essence of Mum:  

"What good is sitting all alone in your room, come hear the music play,  Life is a Cabaret old chum, come join the Cabaret."  

Thank you for everything mum. Of course we'll miss you, much love and appreciation, Paul, and Matt, and family