Life in the valley of the dolls

Andrew Mathieson
Judith McLean’s first annual pilgrimage to the Geelong show coincided with a tree-change move to a Bannockburn hobby farm before it was trendy to do so.
The farm was only a small acreage back in 1981 but for the suburban Melbourne mother it fed a personal ambition to house a droopy-eared, long-nose Anglo-Nubian goat.
“We bought one at a clearing sale and we thought it should have a friend,” Judith explains.
“Then we met other people into goats, so we bought a couple more and, of course, they don’t have them one at a time, do they?”
Around the same time, Judith chose to study wool-spinning over dollmaking for obvious reasons.
Twenty-five years later, that decision seems inexplicable to Judith.
Now a grandmaster of dollmaking, the extension to her new Highton house is adorned with hundreds of fresh-faced dolls.
A growing life insurance fund that Judith had been building since she was 17 even paid for her first kiln.
“When I made one, I was hooked,” she now laughs.
One way or another, patrons have always seen Judith’s face every October at Geelong Showgrounds.
However, she continued her love affair with goats and was responsible for bringing them back to the show after an absence of nearly 20 years.
“I was doing dolls and dairy goats at the same time,” Judith says.
“We were milking them, the goats that is, and raising them as a stud.
“I never grew up on a farm but I was always an animal freak.”
Judith has sometimes entered homemade jams and farm eggs at the show, even winning a few first prizes for her hen’s eggs, but it’s doll-making that has dominated her existence.
The 61-year-old has won best doll exhibits – the region’s highest honour – and been called upon to judge the dolls.
Judith’s cabinets are stacked with her own self-made dolls, which her collection also extends to a line-up of Shirley Temple models.
“I go to doll auctions, which are a real trap,” she admits.
“I have seen dolls go for in access of $14,000 at the doll show in Melbourne but I’m just not in that league, I’m afraid.”
Judith produces about 25 dolls a year – mostly orders from eager doll collectors – from her 200-plus moulds for various heads.
A liquid porcelain slip is poured into the moulds, made from potter’s plaster.
Fired up past 1200C degrees, the slip emerges from four or five firings before Judith begins adding detail.
“The one thing about dollmaking is you have to be everything from an artist to an engineer,” Judith tells.
“The artistry is about the painting of faces and the engineering comes in when you put bodies together.
“You have to be a shoemaker, a milliner, a wigmaker and I did China painting for a little while, which really taught me a lot of skill in dealing with paint and the brushes.”
Al, Judith’s husband, pops his head inside the door after pottering around the backyard.
A writer and historian in his own right, his last completed book was on former blacksmith Backwell IXL and its 150 years in Geelong.
Al has also made a name for himself in athletics after coaching many local kids and later claiming a 90-metre hurdle win in an Australian Masters Games, followed by a bronze at the world masters.
“Touring the room of dolls, are you?” he smiles.
“It will be a fascinating time.”
Judith then mockingly explains that Al likes to keep out of her way and vice versa.
“We were doing some renovating recently and he came over because he found two doll prams in his den,” Judith laughs.