Andy Hutson

In the middle of everywhere

2012-01-26T22:57:00.002+11:00

Some time last year, I was sitting outside the Jackpot Bakery in Wentworth, watching the cars cruise by along the silver city highway, and chomping on a meat pie which I was washing down with a Big M. Having just spent a while walking around and photographing the junction of the Murray and Darling Rivers, I was biding my time before heading back to my campsite near Merbein [see previous post here]. As I casually eavesdropped on a group of post-middle-aged ladies from Adelaide the discussing property prices in various locales around their native city, I overheard something that stood out from the rest of the chatter: "...she was right in the middle of everywhere..."

This unusual phrase caught my attention because it contrasted so strongly to the familiar phrase 'middle of nowhere', and also to my whereabouts at that exact moment [apologies, residents of Wentworth]. It made me wonder where exactly the middle of everywhere might in be - if not anywhere...

I suspect being in the middle of everywhere has something to do with your state of mind - what you want or need in relation to your location.

Anyway - I thought of it just now because I was talking to some friends who had recently been canoeing on the Whanganui River in New Zealand, and had passed by the Bridge to Nowhere. I had been informed of this bridge at an earlier date by one of said canoeists, I think because she knew that I am fond of absurd things, and interested in clashes between human technology and the natural world.

And on the topic of the natural world, this weekend I am heading up to Mushroom Rocks near Mt Baw Baw, to refresh my acquaintance with the lovely old beech trees and strange granite formations, and hopefully catch a glimpse of some solar-induced stellar activity...

With any luck, there'll be some new photos next time I write.

2011: A post-annual review

2012-01-05T15:37:00.001+11:00

After reading my on-line horoscope for 2012, and discovering that I am in for a rough year, including financial troubles, difficulties with employment and strained personal relationships, I figured a bit of topical nostalgia was in order. [Not that I subscribe to that kind of stuff...]

ECLECTIC REVIEW, 2011:

Firstly, I'm not sure what my top art experience of 2011 was. MONA was amazing. That was an experience entirely unto itself. I especially loved the evil-Bond-villain-lair vibe of the place, with it's transparent circular elevator and carved underground chambers. The highlight there was probably...everything. The work by Gelitin, Locus Focus was the most memorable. [Hint: look in the toilets.] I also loved Michael Stevenson's mini-retrospective at MCA in Sydney. Taking the old freight elevator downstairs into a 'secret' part of the exhibition was an inspired touch, and used the in-built history of the museum to great effect [alas, soon to be lost in rubble as the new extension takes shape]. His work, The Fountain of Prosperity was one of the best works I saw all year [although the work itself is old].

Working at the NGV, I'm privy to a lot of beautiful art work, quite regularly. Of course, there is also a lot of stuff I see that I dislike, too. Actually, more of the latter than the former. That said, there were some beautiful drawings in The Vienna exhibition, and the Tjukurrtjanu exhibition of Western Desert paintings was a delight to work on, mainly because I was surrounded by people who had a sincere and infectious love for this work, and during the installation I heard some interesting stories about how this artistic phenomenon began. Also the Mad Square exhibition of German post-WWI, pre-WWII art contains some really interesting stuff.

Some of the great works I saw were at the new Westspace, at Utopian Slumps, and Sean Bailey's show at Daine Singer. But I am embarrassed to admit that I didn't venture out to the local artist-run spaces as much as I ought, so I probably missed a great deal of wonderful art, that was tucked away in one of the many nooks and crannies of Melbourne's art world.

My favourite film of last year was probably Werner Herzog's Cave of Forgotten Dreams, in 3D. But as a self-confessed Herzogophile, it's not really a surprise. The funniest character was the perfumer who sniffs at the cracks in a hillside, looking for new caves to discover. But I was an awe when Werner finally let the paintings do the talking as the camera quietly scanned the entire surface of the inside of this cave - even the overly dramatic choral piece that accompanies this scene seems appropriate.

Another film that I found myself unexpectedly moved by (although I did fall asleep at one point) was Pina (also 3D - what's with the glasses, people?), Wim Wenders' tribute to German choreographer Pina Bausch, including personal tributes in the form of dance by members of her troupe, Tanztheater Wuppertal. These emotive performances dedicated to Bausch, who died in 2009, are incredibly powerful.

I listened to a lot of excellent new music in 2011. Dirty Beaches, Kurt Vile, Bill Callahan...plus lots of new-old music too - Michael Hurley, Karen Dalton and Elvis to name a few. The best gig [and one of the only ones I recall going to] was probably Kurt Vile at the Corner Hotel, despite the fact that we ended up standing with the infamous column right in front of Kurt himself [this was actually kind of beautiful, and a bit 2001-esque: a giant black, shiny monolith right in the centre of my field of vision, with bright light emanating from all around it. It gave me an idea for a picture that can't be looked at properly...stay tuned for more on that one]. One great point of this gig was probably when he played 'Downbound Train'. It wasn't until after I'd turned to Kim and said, 'Wow, it's amazing how much the Bruce Springsteen influence comes through in the music', that I realised what the song was. Also when he played 'Baby's Arms' by himself it was verging on sublime...

Other random highlights of 2011 include: quitting the hospitality industry, growing my first vegetables (beetroots and carrots), helping my mate Dan Moynihan on his work, Warm Memorial-The Dan Moynihan Experience at ACCA, seeing glow-worms on NYE in the Otways (not my photo) and driving through the desert in western NSW, while camping at the Murray River.

Lowlights of 2011: being told by a balding wrestler at a wedding that my hair was 'gay as aids', seeing my own breath while eating breakfast at the kitchen table in the warehouse in winter [associated resolution: get a better heater].

On that note, here are a few new year's resolutions, apart from the usual exercise more, eating healthier, stop playing on the iphone, drinking less etc.:

- get a haircut

- update blog more regularly

- wean myself off Facebook completely

- reduce impulsive ebay/online purchases

- document exhibitions properly

- listen to more records

- read more about art

- talk more about art

and finally, and most importantly, make better art. [There were a few low points in my output last year that seemed to resonate with me long after the show was over, much more so than works that I was happy with...]

phew. Now - If you're not completely bored shitless after having read all that self-gratifying banter, then maybe you need to get back on Facebook...

And to finish, here's a bit of uplifting music to bring in the new year, courtesy of Abner Jay.

Ladders/Scaffolds

2011-12-09T13:43:00.000+11:00

From an old edition of Life magazine, circa 1960.

Slumpy

2011-12-09T13:38:00.000+11:00

I tried to make these old photos of Renee Jaeger's work at Utopian Slumps look better by using photoshop. Turns out I am quite bad at this. But Renee's work looked really great. The piece of paper (it's a room-sheet for the gallery) is not part of her work, but the table and the bottle are. These works were in a group exhibition titled Impossible Objects II (see link above for details). I'm not sure in which way these objects were impossible, but there was certainly an overriding interest in process going on. Below is Matt Hinkley's hand-pricked straw. I really liked this object.

Tropical Polaroids

2011-11-20T20:10:00.000+11:00

Saatchi Gallery vs. Australian Provincialism

2011-11-02T22:57:00.001+11:00

Here is a link to a video tour of of the new sculpture exhibition at the Saatchi Gallery in London, titled, The Shape of Things to Come. Living in Melbourne, I haven't seen the show, but the digital tour was pretty good, although the camera does sweep rather swiftly over some work, much to my frustration. I actually really enjoyed the soundtrack, despite it sounding a little like Phillip Glass after four or five espressos. This is another link which lists the artists and gives some idea about their practice.

All in all, this show presents a reason why it can be frustrating to live in Australia, and to feel so distant from these kind of contemporary exhibitions. So often what is exhibited here at major institutions and considered 'contemporary' is already a decade or more old. Although the internet provides a seemingly bottomless and infinitely useful resource in terms of images of up-to-date international art, to actually experience it first hand - especially spatially based work such as this - is essential to really getting toward an understanding of the artists intention.

Which is not to say that Australian artists are behind the times. I've seen a no shortage of really interesting work in artist-run spaces and smaller commercial galleries which would easily have stood up to the work in this Saatchi show [some of it is actually pretty dry and/or dull], but these spaces are not frequented by the 'general public' in the way major, state-funded spaces are. And, admittedly, much of the work in The Shape of Things to Come tends towards the spectacular, or grandiose, but I think that is in part a symptom of both the Saatchi Gallery and the broader cultural zeitgeist, which seems to be grasping at something sublime and unknown...

Phew. Not sure what just happened, but I think I just reverted to art-school-essay mode.
Exscuse me. I hope you like the video.

ps. If you look carefully, there is a work in this exhibition which I've shown on this blog on an earlier occasion; from a photograph I took in Hoxton Square when I was in London around this time last year.

9112011: A Decennalia

2011-10-25T19:11:00.001+11:00

In late August, and running into September this year, I was part of a group exhibition titled 9112011: A Decennalia. [For those who didn't study Latin (myself included), 'decennalia' means 'tenth anniversary'.] The theme behind this show, curated by Peter Thomas, was the 10th anniversary of the September 11 attacks on the world trade centre, and their lasting - or since forgotten - implications. The artists included were myself, Peter, Mia Salsjo and Linda Tegg.

My work was titled Deep Impact, and was comprised of three parts: a spinning asteroid, a mechanical model of the solar system - also known as an orrery - and a black wall-mounted panel. The sun was represented by a yellow globe suspended from the ceiling. All the planets and the asteroid were made from paper-mâché. I used a disco-ball motor for the asteroid, and the orrery utilised a microwave motor.

For this work I wanted to create something that played upon Hollywood dramatisations of catastrophe, and their various manifestations. I had heard that after the 9/11 attacks the pentagon summoned a group of Hollywood directors to present various imagined terrorism scenarios to help them prepare for any possible event. I found this situation incredibly bizarre - fiction preceding, if not forecasting, fact. This gesture highlighted the filmic nature of the attacks, and their subsequent televised repetition. As Slavoj Žižek stated in Welcome to the Desert of the Real, "the September 11 attacks were the stuff of popular fantasy long before they actually took place".

The title was directly taken from a 1998 sci-fi catastrophe film, in which a large meteorite is heading for the earth and human kind is liable to be wiped out. essentially that is what is being presented in this sculpture, except the asteroid, although rotating on an axis, is inert; endlessly spinning in vaguely-threatening proximity. Our sense of fear at the risk of disaster, be it religious fundamentalism or interplanetary collision, is shaped by our preparedness to believe the fantasy: terror reduced to a spinning paper-mâché ball.

[this is a picture of me as an asteroid.]

reading the signs

2011-10-09T21:48:00.001+11:00

These pictures are from a recent trip to Kingscliff - on the north coast of NSW; or if you prefer, just over the southern border of Queensland, by the Tweed River. At Fingal Head, we took a walk to the beach for a dreamy time...

Westspace Fundraiser [Art vs. Vandalism]

2011-10-09T21:26:00.005+11:00

This is a re-imagined work, made from parts of an old sculpture - it originally looked like this - which I donated to the Westspace fundraiser exhibition. The title of the second manifestation of this sculpture is New Horizons. [Pun intended.] The exhibition itself was huge, with hundreds of works. Lots of local artists contributing to help keep one the city's most interesting art spaces going. It was a fun event.

During the opening night of the exhibition, the permanent work [pictured in the post below] I created for the gallery toilets was vandalised by one of the visitors [see above]. Aside from presenting the conundrum of how to remove spray paint from clear acrylic without scratching the surface, this unusual gesture got me thinking not only about the nature of art and it's permanence - a relationship which I have always endeavoured to keep buoyant within my work - but also the relevance of protest or revolt in an environment such as an artist-run gallery like Westspace.

I have always felt that it is important to maintain a degree of indifference to the art that one creates, in the sense that once an art work is completed, the artist must relinquish a certain amount of control over the life of the work, particularly if the work is sold to another person. [Not to mention the inherent fact of the inevitable demise of all objects - i.e. entropy] It brings to mind the occasion when the Chapman Brothers purchased and systematically 'rectified' a collection of original Goya prints, by drawing psychotic clown heads over the top of all the heads in the etchings. Admittedly, the Chapman brothers' undertaking was more an act of sincere homage than one of mindless vandalism; but that didn't prevent people from seeing it as such. The point is that art may continue to evolve beyond its perceived end-point, particularly within the contexts of ownership and/or authorship and the relationship between an object and its audience.

The line between vandalism and the reinvention of an artwork seems to come down to both ownership and intent: Rauschenberg owned the de Kooning print that he erased, the Chapman Bros owned their Goya's - both admitted their reverence for the artist whom they appeared to be nullifying. Westspace were the owners of the vivarium, yet it was modified without their permission; and I suspect that the aerosol artist involved was not intending a make a tribute to my art. Even as a gesture of protest [which, according to the person responsible, it was] this is weak. The event was intended to generate money, specifically in support of Melbourne based emerging artists - a demographic which may well include the spray-can wielder - and was not for any kind of financial gain. This act of dissent was in complete opposition to the spirit of the occasion - one of community, inclusion and support. I believe there is a definite need for gestures which embrace rebellion and challenge the tradition of aesthetics and artistic representation, but for such a gesture to be of use, it must be made publicly - not behind closed doors.

Westspace Vivarium

2011-09-10T14:05:00.001+10:00

These are some photos of a work I made for the toilets in the new premises of Westspace gallery, in the CBD. The work, which I have tentatively titled In-Situ Vitrine, is a paper-mâché sculpture, finished with resin and set inside a perspex and timber vivarium, which I built around the existing art-deco style urinal. Vivariums are transparent cases used for the growth of exotic plants or animals in environments usually unsuitable for their survival. The details for the orchids represented here (they are based on existing species orchids, not exact versions) were taken from 19C botanical illustrations. All three species originate from tropical locales.

Photos courtesy KJ

Aside from helping preserve the paper-mâché, the resin gives the whole work a slimy, or freshly soaked feel. Considering its setting, this adds a little touch of abjection.

2011-08-08T08:53:00.002+10:00

Home, by Charles Negre

2011-08-08T08:29:00.001+10:00

Villa Mairea, by Alvar Aalto

Richard Ross

2011-08-07T17:43:00.000+10:00

Images from the series Museology, by Richard Ross.

orchids

2011-07-19T16:03:00.000+10:00

Rangaeris amaniensis

Stanhopea tigrina

new sculpture

2011-07-15T11:51:00.001+10:00

The Gate(s) of Hell

Paper mâché, cardboard, acrylic and resin, although the photograph was taken before the resin.

2011

Aquascapes

2011-07-14T00:31:00.001+10:00

Takashi Amano

2011-07-11T16:12:00.000+10:00

Pablo Neruda, the Chilean poet, once said of Julio Cortázar:

"Anyone who doesn’t read Cortázar is doomed. Not to read him is a grave invisible disease which in time can have terrible consequences. Something similar to a man who had never tasted peaches. He would be quietly getting sadder, noticeably paler, and probably little by little, he would lose his hair."

I feel kind of the same way about Michael Hurley.

E U R O P E : T H E G R A N D T O U R

2011-07-07T18:58:00.002+10:00

PART III

Aztec head, British Museum

Garden shelf, Palais de Tokyo, Paris

Nick viewing art, Deutsche Guggenheim, Berlin

Oscar Tuazon @ Hoxton Square

2011-07-07T09:28:00.000+10:00

Daniel Shea

Oscar Tuazon

2011-06-27T11:17:00.002+10:00

Rocco Berger

{Based in Berlin}

2011-06-25T16:31:00.003+10:00

Finally got a chance to gather some vitamin D today, after a couple of weeks inbound between work and studio; we bought an old olive drum from CERES and I made a rotating compost bin using some timber from an old sculpture which I disassembled.

In fact, it seems the last few weeks have involved quite a bit of sculptural disassembly...

This photo and the one above courtesy the incredible Kim Jaeger.

Entropy at work: the gradual dissipation of my own energy into a pile of junk.

[It doesn't usually cost 50 bucks, though...]

studio shots

2011-06-24T17:49:00.000+10:00

2011-06-24T17:42:00.001+10:00

Bojan Šarčević

E U R O P E : T H E G R A N D T O U R

2011-06-24T15:54:00.002+10:00

PART II

German/Polish border, near Oder river

Hasten to live before death catches up
Montmarte cemetery, Paris

Palais de Tokyo, Paris

Sophie Calle @ Palais de Tokyo

Gaudi Park, Barcelona

Berlin planetarium

ping pong

2011-06-23T17:53:00.000+10:00

Barcelona

Berlin

Pink Lakes

2011-06-23T17:46:00.002+10:00

rosa chancho

2011-06-23T17:06:00.003+10:00

Giant mud ball by Rosa Chancho

2011-06-16T11:42:00.000+10:00

Today I am building an asteroid and dancing around the studio listening to this song.

Art around the house

2011-05-29T19:17:00.000+10:00

an old one of mine, from 2005

These two are by my friend Joanna Anderson. The frames are a bit crap because I haven't had the funds to get them done properly yet, but they're still lovely works. The top one is of a monstera plant that Joanna bought during an expedition we made to Bunnings together. I think the bottom one was done with textas.

New Website

2011-04-19T16:38:00.000+10:00

I have just launched the trial version of my website.
*It is full of holes, so please bear with me while I trawl the old data on my hard drive....

Mondellimin Dreaming

2011-04-19T15:24:00.001+10:00

I dreamt that I was in Japan. There was a large, bright light in the sky which seemed to make everything glow in an unusual yellowish aura, as if in some kind of Byzantine icon painting. Everyone around me was chanting one word - slowly, rhythmically, and in unison - 'Dharma' or 'Dar uma' - I can't exactly be sure. But everyone was clearly aware that some important, possibly dangerous, celestial event was taking place. People were pointing toward the light and saying things to each other; some cried, some were hysterical.

Gradually, through the bright haze, I began to awake.

There was a split in the zip of my tent-fly, and through the small hole it created, the sun was streaming through in a little shaft, right onto my face.

It was morning, and I was in my tent on the banks of the Murray River, near its junction with the Darling, at Mondellimin. This was the Aboriginal name of the site which, 153 years ago, the German scientist William Blandowski had established a research camp, and thus began cataloguing the natural phenomena of this particular part of Australia. [The site is close to Merbein, which is about a 5 minute drive from Mildura.]

Blandowski was based at Mondellimin for about 35 weeks, from April until November of 1857. During this time, through a constructive collaboration with the local indigenous people, the Nyeri Nyeri, Blandowski and his assistant Gerard Krefft collected and documented hundreds of species of plants, mammals, reptiles, fishes and birds. Many of the species Blandowski and Krefft documented during their time at Mondellimin have since become extinct or seriously endangered.

I was camping in this same spot because I was [and still am] undertaking a project to retrace the steps of Blandowski - and with luck, discover something about the area which I could then translate into some form of meaningful art work, which would somehow pay tribute to Blandowski and Krefft's scientific legacy, whilst also dealing with the issues that face present-day Mondellimin, and the Murray-Darling region in general.

I also made a day-trip up to a small town in central NSW called Wilcannia, which according to various sources I had been reading, Blandowski had travelled to and experienced some kind of sublime experience in the Australian outback. I went there looking for a mountain where Blandowski had reached 'the verge of civilisation...and gazed into the unknown wilds expanding before him'. When I arrived at Wilcannia, there were no apparent mountains to be seen - but of course, I had no map of the area, save for the 'map' function my phone, which was out of reception, so I wasn't sure where exactly I was supposed to be looking anyway- so I travelled a little further to the turn-off for Bourke. It looked like this:

Whilst exploring Mildura, I discovered the curious, but ultimately underwhelming, World Wide Sculpture Project.

I stayed at Mondellimin for about a week - fishing, walking and documenting the area with photographs and videos. After a day or two, my camera batteries went flat, despite my apparent [and apparently fruitless] preparations, so I was reduced to taking snapshots with my mobile phone. The self portrait above is one of them.

Now that I'm back, I am returning to the studio to begin work.

I might be wrong

2011-04-09T14:40:00.000+10:00

My friends Jonas Ropponen and Sarah crowEST recently had an exhibition open at Platform, in Melbourne.

The show is called Mound Activity vs. Slime Theory. At a guess, I'd say Jonas is the proponent of 'slime theory' and Sarah is undertaking mound activities...but I might be wrong.

Some of Jonas' works...

(this one reminds me of Quentin Blake's illustrations)

...and some of Sarah's.

The two artists' each have a side of the subway; their works face each other in a kind of visual stand-off.

It's a fun exhibition.

It runs until April 30.

2011-04-09T14:14:00.001+10:00

Bicylcle tree

2011-04-09T14:08:00.002+10:00

Chinese Artist Ai Weiwei arrested

2011-04-05T09:50:00.001+10:00

Below is an article about the recent inexplicable detainment of Chinese artist Ai Weiwei.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/2011/apr/04/ai-weiwei-missing-chinese-police

When I was in London last year I saw his beautiful installation Sunflower Seeds - which, sadly, was not fully open to the public for it's intended purpose. The grand scale and inclusive scope of his project was incredible in its own right, and the sheer immensity of the finished work was exhilarating. [see the brief documentary below for an explanation of his project...]

To be a dissident means to be one who disagrees or objects to a certain idea - I think in this case most of the art world could be described as such.

I hope Ai is released soon, and unharmed.

Another Day in Paradise

2011-03-28T12:12:00.000+11:00

*All pictures courtesy Anna Pappas Gallery

This paper-mâché work, which is titled Another Day in Paradise, was exhibited in a group show at Anna Pappas Gallery, in Prahran. The exhibition, curated by Anna, the director, was titled "Paradise: A Hell of a Place", and dealt with themes of utopia, dystopia and fantasy.

The work I contributed was inspired by a mash-up of a few ideas: 80's disaster films, Gericault's Raft of the Medusa [and subsequent attributions] and a more generic idea of a personal kind of white-trash hell - hence the inclusion of the most awful alcohol and cigarettes I could think of [not to mention their tropical vibes].

I wanted people to get Phil Collins stuck in their head while looking at this work.

Pueblo

2011-03-19T01:17:00.000+11:00

This photo was taken in the city; I took it because it reminded me of old photos of Native American pueblos.

Out of Action

2011-03-19T01:12:00.000+11:00

I have been somewhat preoccupied lately.

A lot has happened since my last post, including:
- moving house & studio
- going to Canberra for my Cousin's wedding
- setting up a new studio
- not making any art of my own [which constitutes a creative holiday of sorts.]

Whilst in Canberra I saw a work by my old favourite, Bob Smithson, at the NGA.

This work is called Rocks and Mirror Square II. It is made from basalt rocks and mirrors. I guess Bob wasn't into puns. I am. If I'd made it, it probably would've been called rock block, or something a bit funny like that.
After I took this photo the security guard yelled at me for taking photographs, but it was too late.

We then proceeded to the lovely sculpture garden out the back of the gallery, where I was excited to see the famous Fog Sculpture, by Fujiko Nakaya. We arrived at around 2:05pm, to find a moist sign that read:

[If you can't read it, it says 'The fog sculpture operates daily from 12:30 - 2:00pm']
I was going to ask somebody to turn it back on for a few minutes, but there were no security guards in the sculpture garden.

In and around Kyneton

2011-02-10T10:01:00.000+11:00

The making of...

2011-02-10T09:54:00.000+11:00

It's a long way to TEOTWAWKI*

2011-02-10T09:48:00.002+11:00

Here are some installation photos taken by Kim Jaeger of my recent exhibition at Stockroom, in Kyneton.
The show was titled It's a long way to TEOTWAWKI* [The end of the world as we know it], and it was based around themes of millennial paranoia and anti-terrorism propaganda.

In the thick of it

2011-01-07T02:05:00.001+11:00

The air in my room tonight is so thick and heavy you can feel it as it spills over your lips and down your throat.
The weather has, I think, been warm and sunny today - but I've spent fourteen hours inside a man-made cave, constructing fake things out of paper. I only went outside to buy paint and, unsuccessfully, a coffee.

I suspect I'm approaching delirium.

It's not far now

2011-01-05T11:06:00.000+11:00

These are some developmental shots from It's a long way to TEOTWAWKI*

Coming Up: It's a long way to TEOTWAWKI*

2010-12-30T10:04:00.000+11:00

Opening January 15, 4 - 7pm. Exhibition runs until February 13
@ Stockroom, 98 Piper Street, Kyneton, Victoria - click here for a map.

This show is is about the end of the world. How far away is it really? What have we done to speed up the process? And what can we do? Are we safe from terrorism? Or are we terrorists?

Take a ride out to Kyneton, and find out the answers to these questions.
Or perhaps not.

*The end of the world as we know it

Today I will listen to:

2010-12-30T09:45:00.001+11:00

Sketchbook Sketches

2010-12-24T10:15:00.000+11:00

Folksonomy

2010-12-24T10:10:00.000+11:00

There is an earlier version of this drawing on an older post, but this is the finished version of the work. It was donated to Seventh gallery for their annual fund raising exhibition. [I photoshopped the hell out of it so that you can read the text in pencil...]

Highway Rocks

2010-12-23T17:45:00.001+11:00

Megaliths/Freeway Landscape Architecture

Plant Hybridization

2010-12-23T17:41:00.002+11:00

This was a group exhibition centred around the theme of nature, and its manipulation by humankind. The title is from an essay by Gregor Mendel, a German biologist, which discusses differences in the genetic inheritance of various species of pea.

The work I contributed, made from paper-mache, was titled Make like a tree. It depicted a vaguely gumtree-like branch, draped over a cardboard box, and held in place with with a brick. On one end of the branch hung a white plastic bag - a symbol of humankind's urge to posses, and a sign of surrender.

E U R O P E : T H E G R A N D T O U R

2010-12-05T13:26:00.001+11:00

P A R T I

Life, but not as we know it

2010-12-01T17:21:00.000+11:00

The folks at NASA have apparently found something that 'will impact the search for extraterrestrial life'.
They're sharing it with the world tomorrow.
I wonder if it will impact us, down here on earth?

More details here...

Wrongtown

2010-11-24T10:20:00.000+11:00

In August 2010, I was involved in a really fun group exhibition titled Wrongtown. It was held at a house in Toorak, a well-heeled area of Melbourne, in which the owners had given complete control to the curators and artists to do whatever they so desired to the property. There was a very large number of artists involved, from different backgrounds - street art, video, sculpture, performance etc.

Most artists were given a room in which to wreak creative havoc, whilst some utilised the outer walls, the garage, the windows and the basement of the house. The result was a truly macabre and occasionally quite confronting array of art installations. A definite favourite was the guys from U.V.M. [Urban Village Melbourne - click here to see more photos on their website] in the front room, in which they tore up the floorboards to expose the bunker-like cellar below, and during the opening event, Michelle from the group was sleeping in a bed, just perceivable when you peered down through the splintered floorboards...

To see a brief video of Wrongtown from ABC's Art Nation about the project, click here.

The Wrongtown flag.

Part of the UVM installation.

Simon Pericich's Protex us...

I was given the kitchen to work with, which was somewhat ironic because I work as a cook. The work was titled Sinkhole, after the incredible sink hole that appeared in Guatemala City [which my friend Thom pointed out was kind of like a Meta-Gordon Matta-Clark] The idea was not exactly complex - to make a pun about the hole in the kitchen sink, whilst creating an immersive, tactile installation.

For this work, I pretty much destroyed the inside of the kitchen. I can definitely recommend taking to a bunch of fancy shelves and cupboards with a crowbar and hammer if you're looking for relaxation therapy. using the materials I had gleaned from this process - lots of plywood and mdf panels, plus a few pieces of hardwood - I constructed a tunnel that led from the doorway of the kitchen and curved around to the sink. I wanted to make the tunnel just narrow enough for one person to walk down, with a light emanating from the hole in the sink and some kind of sound element. For this, I ended up recording the sink as it drained of water, and the resulting sucking and gurgling sound I slowed down and made really reverby.

The next part of the process involved me digging a hole in the back garden, and transporting the soil into the tunnel, where I mixed it with glue and water to make a really sticky mud. This was then applied to the walls of the tunnel...

The hole in the back yard.

The first part of the process: tearing the cupboards apart to construct the walls of the tunnel.

...lining the inside with mud.

...[near enough to] the finished tunnel.

Some recent things

2010-11-23T16:53:00.001+11:00

Phew.
There's so much to try and put down here it's kind of overwhelming.
I'm going to try and deliver a few images and some words about some recent projects, as well as some upcoming ones.

Stop Collaborate & Listen!
A few months ago, some friends of mine from Seventh Gallery and I were involved in a collaborative project which was exhibited at Boxcopy, in Brisbane. The project was titled Stop, Collaborate & Listen!* and it was part of a swap between interstate ARIs [Artist Run Initiatives].

My collaborators were Amy-Jo Jory, Jonas Ropponen & Kim Jaeger. We met together at each others' houses for a few months leading up to the show in order to brainstorm ideas for the exhibition. What evolved from this process - which involved elaborate dinners with ample wine - was a very fluid method for appropriating each other's working methodologies and at the same time relinquishing a certain amount of control over the final artwork.

The basic process was:
- each artist writes down two words. One that best describes their working process, and another that summarises their overall practice. The words are written on individual pieces of paper and placed in a hat.
- Each artist then draws two words from the hat, and then over the next few weeks paints/constructs/photographs [etc.] a work based on the two words they have selected.
- At the next meeting, everyone writes their name on a piece of paper, and these are also drawn from the hat. Having selected the name of another of the collaborators, each person then writes two words [in the same way as the first round], but in response to the artist they've selected. These words are then drawn from the hat again.
- Each artist continues working on their own artwork, again in response to the new words.
- Once the works are completed, the names are again drawn from the hat, and each artist installs the work of the person who's name they've selected.

Obviously the system was slightly flawed in terms of absolute handover of control of the artwork, but it was still an engaging and interesting way to create work. Most of us ended up with quite different works to what we would usually do.

A favourite part of the final installation which was put together by all four of us was the videozine - a dvd which depicited a kind of time-lapse slide show of the whole process, including photographs from our dinner parties, sound bytes and some images relating to our own research. It was displayed inside a brown postal bag, and there were hand illustrated copies of the dvd to take as a souvenir. Who doesn't love free stuff?

The whole project was heaps of fun. Travelling to Brisbane for the exhibition was an equally entertaining part of the experience, and our hosts at Boxcopy were very gracious and helpful. Thanks guys!

*If you are not familiar with the reference you must have missed the nineties - so click here

2010-09-17T11:58:00.001+10:00

fox and full moon drawing

2010-07-12T10:40:00.001+10:00

Recently I found myself in Royal Park - it's quite close to my house - on a balmy evening with a bright full moon. I was riding my bike through the trees, enjoying the eerie light playing on the muted landscape. For reasons too pedestrian to mention here, I had in my bag a bottle of red wine. I therefore took it upon myself to go and sit in the middle of the large oval that overlooks the city and indulge in a few swigs, and enjoy the view.
As I was lying on my back watching the flimsy clouds passing before the moon, and aurally visualising Kerouac waxing lyrical about moons and scitars, I had a funny sense that I was not the only one present on this urban grassy plateau. I sat up, and right before me, a few metres away, a beautiful red fox was traipsing delicately across the turf - foxes have a lovely way of trotting, it reminds me of horses in dressage. I wasn't sure if it had smelt the food in my bag or if it was just having a casual look-see, but by the time it occured to me to grab my camera and try and snap it, the moment had passed, and I was alone again in the night.

So I took some squiggly photos of the moon instead. This one is my favourite.

on the edge of realism

2010-07-12T10:20:00.000+10:00

The first thing that struck me when I began work on the film set was how much it reminded me of the photographic studio in Antonioni's Blow-Up. Incidentally, this film is loosely based on a short story of the same title by one of my favourite authors, Julio Cortázar. Cortázar teetered on the edge of magic realism; like many other Latin American writers, such as Borges, Marquez and Fuentes.

Set Wobble

2010-07-12T10:01:00.001+10:00

These are some sets I recently built for a local film production. They were almost entirely made from plywood and pine, with a few extra bits and pieces here and there. The film is titled Moonlite, and follows the journey of one George Scott, alias Captain Moonlite [a bushranger], as he galavants around the Victorian and NSW countryside in the 1870's. Needless to say, the film culminates with a slip-knotted rope. The finished footage is to be rotoscoped, so will look something along the lines of Sin City, but set in the Australian landscape. As far as I know, it is due to be released some time next year...
Working on the set was an educational affair - I now have a slight phobia of the term 'set wobble', and have learned that anything remotely heavy can, and probably should be built with wheels.

kinetic work

2010-07-11T11:11:00.001+10:00

The period of time between each rise of the lever averaged a couple of minutes. And yet, some visitors couldn't wait that long and had to grab the ball and throw it down the track. This generally resulted in the ball flying off the edge and bouncing across the gallery floor. It was the kids who really wanted to play with this thing, but the adults who actually did.

Kintetic work always brings out unexpected results in the audience...

marks the spot

2010-06-30T11:07:00.002+10:00

...some stuff I've been doing for a group show with my friends AJ, Kim & Jonas.

It's called Stop, Collaborate & Listen!

I really like this title.

Downward Spiral [Prototype for a New Taxonomy]

2010-06-30T10:36:00.003+10:00

The drawing above is an attempt at mapping out my interpretation of nature.

[yes, it's a crappy photo. sorry. that's why I make things...]

It is called 'folskonomy', which according to wikipedia, is a sarcastic combination of the two terms, folk and taxonomy, as made by serious scientists who don't believe ways of perceiving the world around them other than one which was invented by a man a few hundred years ago.

The sculpture above is my first attempt at physically mapping out this system.

It was made using things that I found lying around the studio; lots of them from other sculptures that I've dismantled.

The title of this work, which is the title of this post, refers to the confused and deteriorating relationship humans have developed with the world in which they exist, and are part of.

As a prototype, it is highly flawed - there are lots of things missing.

But if I continued on the trajectory that developed while I was doing my drawing, it would become like a fractal - an infinite sculpture.

And who has time for that?

[This is what it looked like in my studio when I turned the lights off]

The sculpture is currently on display at C3, at the Abbotsford convent.

Kim's monstera

2010-06-30T10:31:00.002+10:00

this is Kim's monstera. It will probably grow quite large.

[I'm not sure who the little bearded man is]

OK with that.

2010-06-30T09:56:00.005+10:00

It's true.
I'm a lousy blogger.
Occasionally I feel like I'm letting the side down by not posting anything for weeks.
Sometimes you need to take stock of why you put things on the internet - ask yourself, "what am I endeavouring to contribute to this mess?"

Lord knows. In that sense, blogging is the same as art.
And, therefore, I am attempting to be more impulsive about what i put up here.
This isn't, and can't be easy - I generally mull over things for long periods, especially writing.
So I decided I'd note down what I had for breakfast.

This recipe is what's been sustaining me for the past few weeks, it keeps you pretty full until the afternoon, provided you have some kind of light snack - a piece of fruit, for example...

To begin, I place a handful of oats in a pot. Not the quick cooking variety - you want whole, rolled oats.
Then I throw in a bunch of sultanas. A really tiny pinch of salt. A bundle of chopped walnuts [one day I used almond meal instead, and it was good, but lacked the subtle texture of the walnuts]. I grate half a red delicious apple straight into the pot, to make sure the juice gets in there too.
Then I add about a cup and a bit of water.

This all gets slowly brought up to heat on the stove top. At this point, there's usually coffee brewing, and it's slightly cold in the kitchen. Sometimes I have music flowing through my head - but I generally don't put on a record, because I don't want to wake up my flatmates. One song that has been regularly permeating my mornings lately is the wait, by built to spill. [Oh, and just another day, by brian eno.] Both of these songs have that distant quality that allows you to continue a manual task while your mind drifts; floating over vague thoughts of lost love [and lovers], camping trips never made, little paper-mache models, possible blog posts and back to...porridge.

Once it has reached the texture of...well, porridge, it's ready. I always re-use the pot, once it's been scooped out into a bowl, to heat the milk. That way the cleaning of the oatsy pot is half done for you. While the milk warms up, I drizzle a decent spoonful of honey over it and sprinkle a bit of ground cinnamon over the top.

There's a lemon that's been sitting on the shelf right at my eye level, which keeps taunting me. Almost every time I make porridge, it cries out for me to use a little bit of lemon zest or juice in the mix. But I'm afraid of throwing things out of balance, and the possibility of my porridge beginning to taste like christmas cake. Until I can break out of this routine, the [possibly repetitive] ritual of porridge-making will remain decidedly un-zesty. But I'm OK with that.

S M O G

2010-06-04T05:33:00.000+10:00

tonight I'm swimming to my favourite island...

Get off of my cloud

2010-06-03T09:39:00.002+10:00

These are some clouds that I painted for a TV program.
I also helped with the model landscape in the foreground, which provided the setting for a gulliver-esque encounter for the actor. Also on set was an expert in Kinbaku, the Japanese art of erotic rope-tying, who bound said actor with some of the most beautiful and intricate knots I've seen. [And I was in the scouts.]
And no, this was not a dirty movie.

Nina Simone "Suzanne" (1969)

2010-05-28T09:51:00.000+10:00

Your Time Starts Now

2010-05-27T12:28:00.004+10:00

Whole Pieces @ Seventh Gallery.

Curated by Pip Wallis.

Featuring Renee Cosgrave, Alanna Lorenzon, Merryn Loyd, Kate Woods & Myself.

[reworking old work]

T I M E / R O C K

2010-05-27T12:21:00.001+10:00

Friends Work

2010-05-27T12:15:00.002+10:00

OK to disconnect

2010-05-27T11:44:00.003+10:00

How many times have I written down whole passages and then deleted them before posting them?
Lots.
There's so much passing through my head at the moment it's hard to focus.
Like the conundrum of too much egg and not enough toast.
Or infinite inky vortexes.
Descending into the maelstrom. the male storm.

Have you heard about the Dark Mountain Project?

Review

2010-05-14T12:35:00.002+10:00

Here is a link to a review by Din Heagney of my show at Linden Gallery in St. Kilda.
http://theartlife.com.au/?p=1994

Thanks, Din.

2010-04-12T12:13:00.002+10:00

Image courtesy www.barkingmadsurvival.co.uk

Everything has changed

2010-04-12T11:21:00.004+10:00

My current exhibition, Everything You Know is About to Change, Forever opened on Friday, at Linden Centre for Contemporary Art.

The work is all made from paper mache. [Except for the rope, I will concede - thankyou for your constructive criticism] Also in the installation is my first ever video work. I will endeavour to work out how to give a sample of it here...

Nestled amongst the work are a few art-historical references and plenty of autobiographical instances.

It will run until the 9th of May.

Also exhibiting at the centre are Benedict Ernst, Skye Kennewell, Lisa Barmby and Tess Milne. The parallels between everyone's work are occasionally uncanny.

Lots of models and constructions, mimickry of nature and elaborate artifice. The things we love.

Below is a silly self-portrait I took whilst installing the work. Funny the things you do after a few days trapped in a black plastic room with a bunch of paper mache trees and rocks.

This towering polystyrene and plantlife explosion is the work of Bendeict Ernst, titled [It will be a] New Garden. I took this panoramic shot before he had installed the neon lights....so it looks even more amazing now!

'The making of...'

2010-03-31T10:18:00.008+11:00

I have been enjoying moments of what I describe as 'paper mâché serendipity': for example, whilst texturing up a large tree, the articles in the newspaper I was using were all about bushfires. Or when I was making a bottle, it was a full page advertisement for a liquor store. Also, when I used a free music street press publication, occasionally the artist I was listening to on my ipod at the time would feature in a gluey article right before it was transformed into, well... something else.

Meanwhile, a horde of caterpillars turned up in my 'KNOWLEDGE' terrarium, as if the snails realised they were losing the battle and called in the cavalry. Their little orange dung balls are pretty wild...

I have also discovered the joys of a store near Richmond station called 'Barnes'. The pink plastic thing in the freezer is the result of this discovery - 'Pinkysil' is a rather expensive but amazing silicone which sets in about half an hour and can really make your day exciting. If I ever win tattslotto, i will probably make lots of moulds with this stuff.

The adventure continues....

The exquisite corpse will drink the new wine

2010-03-21T18:42:00.002+11:00

This is an exquisite corpse drawing I made with my friend Jonas Ropponen.

He drew the mushroom first, and when I received the drawing, only the red squiggles were visible.

The result is very harmonious, I think.

It appeared up the back of the January '10 edition of the art guide australia.

[Thanks to Nikki Wynnichuck for the hook ups!]

[note also that Jonas has the same image on his blog, and generally writes better than me - funny also that neither of us had a copy of the original, and have both scanned it from the magazine!]

'68 Comeback Special

2010-03-21T14:51:00.004+11:00

My friends Caroline and Joanna hosted a party a few months back, in which the guests were invited to lay out in the back yard and watch Elvis' "68 comeback special", projected onto a makeshift-shower-curtain-screen.

Apparently during the shooting of the film, Elvis had to get his full leather biker suit dry-cleaned several times, at least one of which was due to him ejaculating into the suit whilst performing. I did notice his leg wiggling a lot, but then, that's generally how Elvis danced...

This is the view through the bathroom window onto Elvis' moistened glowing brow.

2010-03-17T14:04:00.001+11:00

The High Life

2010-03-17T13:35:00.003+11:00

I recently contributed a sculptural work to a group exhibition called The High Life. The project was instigated by Phip Murray from Westspace, and is themed generally around the concept of rooftop gardens and gardening. [It is part of the Melbourne Food & Wine festival, which celebrates at least two of the really good things in life.]

The work I have submitted is similar in nature to a show I had at Westspace last year, involving flourescent paper plants and a plastic indoor greenhouse. For this manifestation of the idea, the plants are suspended above the viewer, just out of reach, and are all based on psychotropic plants - as always, I went for the obvious pun with the title...

The work is on display at The Order of Melbourne, which you enter through a surreptitious red door on Swanston St, opposite RMIT University. My first visit there made me feel like I was attending a Freemasons meeting or some kind of secret urban society.

There will be a closing event on Tues the 23rd, involving a bar crawl between the various rooftop venues where the artworks are situated. At the final venue, Madame Brussels, Carl Scrase will be doing a performance with a flower cannon!

Sam Stewart @ Bus Projects

2010-02-23T15:16:00.004+11:00

My friend Sam Stewart recently had some work on display at Bus Projects in the city [Melbourne]. I really enjoyed this work, and the pensive and almost institutional feel it generated. Probably something to do with dismembered tape players running in huge spools that reminded me of old super8 projectors...

Untitled (Inside Looking Out) "explor[es] the impact of past experiences on the psyche using deconstructed walkmans and loops of cassette tape that form words and/or images on the gallery wall"

The voice [Sam's] recorded on these flimsy tapes pronounces metaphysical and/or existential questions in a range of different languages. I think I heard Japanese and German...

A gentle and poetic work. It's on until Feb 26th, so you still have 3 days to see it.

[I must remember to look again and note the points[stars] where the tapes pivot]

It also reminds me of a Modest Mouse song - The Stars are Projectors.

format Festival

2010-02-23T14:53:00.002+11:00

Huzzah! I've just posted some work to Adelaide for the Format Festival, which coincides with Adeliade Festival but is more DIY and proabably heaps more interesting.

My friend Logan Macdonald is curating the particluar show it's for, titled NEO_LIFE, which addresses the dualistic themes of nature/landscape and their relevance in contemporary life-as-we-know-it.

For this show I've made a kinetic drawing - something which I've wanted to do for ages, but the opportunity hadn't really presented itself. I realised that if I sent a drawing to Logan in a postpack tube, half of the necessary components for the mechanism were already present in the arrangement, I just bought two tubes from the post office, linked a little hobby motor to it, and voila! one tube contains the drawing, the other contains the brackets, motor and pulley required to turn the thing [the two tubes act as the spools on which the machinsm turns]

Hopefully it survives the journey and my assembly instructions are sufficient...

2010-02-15T20:40:00.001+11:00

This is the third work from the current exhibition at Michael Koro galleries. The battery is nearly dead, so the LEDs are pretty faint.

2010-02-11T13:31:00.001+11:00

Twofold procrastination - 1) taking random photographs in the studio; 2) uploading them to the blog.

Machinations @ Michael Koro Gallery

2010-02-01T13:14:00.005+11:00

These are some images from a collection of works I have on display at Michael Koro Gallery at the moment. These works are kind of hybrids - part maquettes for larger works, part sketches, and partly works unto themselves. The title of the series is Machinations, these are the only ones completed so far. There is another work in this exhibition but it's quite difficult to document, so I have to wait until I can go in with a tripod to photograph it before it gets posted here...

The other artists in the show are: Marcin Wojcik, Ash Keating, Daniel du Bern and Brie Trennery.

The exhibition is open Thurs - Sun, 12 - 6pm, and runs until Feb 28th.

Expanding into Infinity

2010-01-23T10:41:00.005+11:00

My tribute to Bob Smithson.

For We Don't Need Another Hero at Seventh Gallery.

Jan 13 - 30.

2010-01-04T18:45:00.001+11:00

Smithsonising, again [DIY Smithson]

2009-12-31T04:36:00.007+11:00

A couple of years back, I was invited to be involved in a group show which explored themes of masculinity in relation to the hardware store - the temple of modern man, right? The basic premise was that the show would involve humorous works which reflected the relationship beteween men and tools. [The title, Ultimate Tool, insinuated that they could be the same thing]
At the time [?] I was going through a bit of a fascination with Robert Smithson, among a few other tangents of exploration. For my contribution, I decided to construct a curiosity cabinet which portrayed miniature versions of famous earthworks by Smithson. In this way, I hoped my own work could function both as a parody - a literal belittling of the great land artist - and a quiet tribute to the work of an artist whom I greatly admired.

The works I chose to recreate were Asphalt Rundown, in which a truck emptied a load of liquid asphalt down a hillside,

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A1M3HoZpXBc

and Partially Buried Woodshed, in which a shed on the grounds of Kent University, in Ohio, was covered with earth until its central beam cracked.

http://ludb.clui.org/ex/i/OH3128/

My versions of these works were constructed with paper, soil and scoria [volcanic rock used for potting cacti]. They were presented inside a cupboard which I had found on the side of the road, and converted into a curiosity cabinet of sorts, utilising a system of pulleys and cords with which to open up the top and front.

The whole project left me feeling somehow empty, or insincere. By merely copying these projects in the miniature it seemed that I was not actually engaging with the original work, I was merely aping it. [Although they do say that imitation is the greatest form of flattery...]

The next Smithson tribute, however, will be my own.

Where it all began, really

2009-12-30T22:03:00.004+11:00

"...when they woke up, with the sun already high in the sky, they were speechless with fascination. Before them, surrounded by ferns and palm trees, white and powdery in the silent morning light, was an enormous Spanish galleon. Tilted slightly to the starboard, it had hanging from its intact masts the dirty rags of its sails in the midst of its rigging, which was adorned with orchids. The hull, covered with an armour of petrified barnacles and soft moss, was firmly fastened into a surface of stones. The whole structure seemed to occupy its own space, one of solitude and oblivion, protected from the vices of time and the habits of birds. Inside, where the expeditionaries explored with careful intent, there was nothing but a thick forest of flowers."

One Hundred Years of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
(c) 1970, Penguin Books

Monuments of Passaic, New Jersey

2009-12-22T18:06:00.005+11:00

My obsession continues - I bought this book online for just a few bucks, despite it's seminal role in a very specific chapter in the history of minimal art. The book is referenced in Robert Smithson's essay A Tour of the Monuments of Passaic, New Jersey, which discusses what Smithson refers to as 'ruins in reverse' - esentially sites of development and construction which were, according to the law of entropy, in the simultaneous states of construction and collapse...

The title Earthworks was later used for an exhibition which was held at the Dwan Gallery in New York, in 1968.

Artsists such as Michael Heizer, Claes Oldenburg, Carl Andre, Sol LeWitt and Richard Long exhibited, along with Smithson, obviously. The exhibition is cited as being the 'launch' of the Land Art movement - and the same title was again borrowed for a book which discusses the history of this movement [by Suzaan Boettger].

Having said all that - I have chosen Smithson as my 'idol' for a group show in which we've been invited to create works that are related to our personal idols. I guess I had no choice...

Either way, this book seems like a pretty good starting point.

Everything You Know is About to Change, Forever

2009-12-22T16:58:00.003+11:00

FINALLY! Back in the studio developing some ideas to work on for this year. I have given up my second job which means I can spend more time in the studio [and be more poor]. This is a maquette for a large scale project I will be undertaking in April. The text is the title of the show - it was appropriated from a billboard promoting one of the C.S. Lewis films [maybe Prince Caspian?] and I re-punctuated it to add gravity and, with luck, some humour...

Once completed, this work will be exhibited at Linden Gallery, in St. Kilda.
http://www.lindenarts.org/

Drive-by Art

2009-12-09T04:17:00.000+11:00

These photos were kindly - and skilfully, I might add - taken by my sister Rowena as we were driving down the Eastlink freeway on our way back from a trip to the beach. When this new freeway was constructed, several artists were comissioned to construct public artworks to appear near the road. Pictured are above, Callum Morton's Hotel and top is Simeon Nelson's Desiring Machine. Both works occupy the landscape in interesting ways; Morton's by sheer unexpectedness and contrast, whilst Nelson's sculpture appears somehow at home, even if it appears to have crash-landed there...

stack

2009-12-09T03:24:00.003+11:00

Gym Party

2009-12-08T14:17:00.005+11:00

I went to the Underground Cinema screening the other night - my sister is involved with the group, and she was performing there. The theme was '1980's prom night', and they had hired a large gymnasium for the event. I was on my own, so I kind of felt like the guy who turns up to the school dance without a date...

but that was OK, it permitted me useful intropsective time to soak in the rather David Lynch-esque surroundings. With all the lights, streamers and balloons, the place had a really creepy feel to it. The film they showed was Footloose, which I'd never seen before. Sinister undertones there, too [the whole 'midwest American country town brainwashed by over-zealous spiritual leader' thing...], but perhaps not as much as Blue Velvet, say.
Have a look at their website : http://www.undergroundcinema.com.au/

Royal Park Research

2009-11-05T14:31:00.002+11:00

9th Sept. 1878

2009-11-05T14:15:00.002+11:00

This is a pencilled date which is on my bedroom wall, just above my desk. It appears to be written straight onto the plaster. I imagine that whoever painted the house all those years ago decided to record the occasion for posterity. It has probably been obscured by a dresser or bookshelf for many years.

I suspect this means that our house is one of [if not the] oldest house in the street. It is certainly the tallest, and the architecture is quite uinque.

It is somehow comforting to feel a kind of connection with the house's occupants of some 120 years ago: I am sure that the light that comes in through the window in the morning would fall on the same points of the mantlepiece, and the same sounds would reverberate through the house as people climbed the staircase, and that the sound of birds in the back garden would subtly permeate their daily lives.

I wonder what other significance this particular date held to the person who felt the need to inscribe it upon the wall?

Aqua Lung

2009-10-01T00:39:00.002+10:00

I just discovered these photos of a work I made in mid 2008.

This mechanical sculpture was designed to emulate the movement of a pair of human lungs. An air pump leading to a paper and plastic bag anatomical sculpture was operated by a water fountain system borrowed from traditional Japanese gardens. When the plastic bottle filled to a certain point it would briefly raise and lower the hydraulic pump, as the water cascaded back into the bucket, and the lungs would temporarily 'inhale and exhale'.

Also pictured is an install shot of the work alongside my paper model of Captain Cook's Endeavour.

Seventh Up @ FELTspace

2009-09-29T12:49:00.004+10:00

These are some installation shots of the Seventh Up exhibition at FELTspace in Adelaide.

My work is the one in the black recycling containers, titled 'Nu-Mystic'. A very daggy title, but the work is a bit of a joke...a little dig at the emerging trend towards the esoteric, and a proliferation of shamanic or 'tribal' references in art work I've seen around the place. It seems that more often than not, these kind of references are purely fashionable gestures and not grounded in any real investigation of ancient or foreign cultures...

Also pictured are [and apologies, I've forgotten some of the titles] a miniature, portable protest by Rebecca Agnew, the video 'Everything I will Inherit' by Emma Morgan pictured with Jonas Ropponen's phallic ceramic cactus; Amy-Jo Jory's floor-projected film of an amusement park ride which morphs into a mechanised monster or blossoming flower; Peter Thomas' dramatic sculpture of a Roman-style stadium; Kim Jaeger's Jesus Rulz, which was the subject of an art-heist during the exhibition: the inscription 'Anyone who takes this ruler Dies' proved irresistable to the now doomed thief.

Thanks to FELTspace and all the wonderful artists involved for providing such an enjoyable experience of Adelaide and showing us where the good bars are.

Adelaide and back

2009-09-23T13:48:00.007+10:00

I recently visited Adelaide for a group exhibition at FELTspace, a little ARI [Artist Run Initiative] in the centre

of the city. The premise of the show was the artists involved in Seventh, where I volunteer, and the artists from FELT would swap galleries and have exhibitions in eachother's spaces.

While I was in Adelaide, I visited a small museum located in the centre of the botanical gardens. I had read about it by complete coincidence whilst rifling through a magazine in a coffee shop. It is called The Museum of Economic Botany; it was built in 1881, and has recently been refurbished. Within the ornate display cabinets are hundreds of paper mache apples, pears and mushrooms which were commissioned from a group of German craftsmen. These fruits and mushrooms are so lifelike, it is near impossible to tell they are replicas. Even the sheen of the skins has been recreated so some look more waxy, and some of the mushrooms look quite slimy - and decidedly dangerous.

As opposed to the contemporary lust for the hyper-real - the substitution of simulation for reality - these objects emphasise a tender engagement with the original objects, and, in a way, have been crafted as a creative tribute to the diversity of species.

Lost videos

2009-07-29T22:42:00.004+10:00

[the sound on these videos is music that was playing in the background while filming - not a deliberate soundtrack...]

No time like the present

2009-07-23T11:03:00.003+10:00

I have been taking a break from the studio these past few weeks, working at some grant applications for next year. It's always interesting trying to project your mind forward such a stretch of time: when you return to the present, everything seems old.

That said, here are some really old works of mine, made about four years ago. All of these works are made from paper, with LEDs inside some. Excavation Monument [the one with the aeroplane] also used salt.

Back in the studio again soon, starting work on some new projects - one at FELTspace in Adelaide in Spetember, and another one in early 2010 in Melbourne.

2009-07-04T00:00:00.002+10:00

To download the newest version of Un magazine [which has two drawings of mine in it, as well as some swell articles] click the link below...

http://www.unmagazine.org/?page_id=261

*special thanks to Emma for the opportunity.

and some more.

2009-06-24T09:49:00.001+10:00

This little exhibition was particularly difficult to document, given the number of reflective surfaces about the place and the ambient light filtering in. These shots give you a bit of an idea of what was going on inside this large vitrine...