Lonely hearts unite

Avid art historian seeks statuesque male with understanding of chiaroscuro to reenact Botticelli's Mars & Venus. BYO toga: grapes and chaise longue supplied.

MONA - The new museum vernacular

I have heard all the hype for a while now, I’ve read the articles, I’ve endured all the work colleagues from across Australia visiting and speaking so highly of their experience, “It’s really different; there are no labels; you really should go and see it for yourself; what, you haven’t been yet? really?” Yes, I missed the very first version of Monanism, and have suffered great embarrassment, catching up with every work colleague back from professional duties/ visiting MONA since its opening in 2010. To be honest I also haven’t much been paying attention to others opinions which I realise on the plane into Hobart, I am a clean slate, ready to explore unhindered.

I arrived on Saturday afternoon back in January 2013 realising it was “market day” (every Saturday in summer).  To avoid the ferry passenger queue already at a complete standstill at the main museum entry, I decided to wander the grounds for an orientation of the site itself. I managed to get quite distracted for well over an hour, by the mini-festival up on the lawns. It was a relaxed atmosphere with people enjoying live music, laying about on beanbags and witty banter from a host being broadcast across the sound system, chatting to local providores at stalls around the perimeter, quality foods to sample and a charity lemon-aid stall run by children. I could have stayed longer, and as a local I would have enjoyed a day out, just for market day (and miss the gallery altogether).  The MONA foodfest certainly evoked the same relaxed and effortlessly sophisticated vibe that Hobart township was so good at showcasing.

Scattered beanbags in the aftermath of the festival

Fear of the dark

I finally arrived inside and quickly realised this casual sophistication I witnessed outside also translated to inside. Bubbly staff at the entrance ushered me to receive my O and explain the device was the labelling system. A very quick tutorial, and a glance at the galleries map (hard copy) and I was on my way. So far my journey was effortless, I was equipped and already intuitively flicking through screens familiarising myself with the IPod touch format. Descending in the glass lift I prepared myself, in the few moments of calm silence after the throngs of the crowd upstairs.

 

Stepping off into the void

 

Once in the lower void, the gigantic sandstone rock face escalated to what seemed 5 storeys above. It was stunning and had an immediate impact on everyone who entered. The scale of the Museum was revealed (in parts), hanging off the rock face – pinned lightly to it, to create the cavernous void. The sense of awe it created, was reminiscent of other great architectural features such the turbine hall of the Tate Modern in London. It was spectacular and daunting as I craned my head to see other visitors poking their heads over a wall above, pointing downward and across at something they could see, (and I could not) yet another floor or so above me. I started to get the sheer gravity of the exercise ahead of me and almost immediately went into a panicky head spin. Where do I start? How long will this take me? I’m running out of time to see it all! Julius Popp’s Bit. Fall is a perfect introduction to what lies beyond in the darkness, it is pop culture, provocative and a comment on our technology driven society. The one thing you learn about MONA is, they are not afraid of the dark, they are not afraid of going where other museums seem to be. 

 

Shrouded car - an invitation to peer through the heavy rope curtains

I took the advice of the attendant upstairs and went to the entrance of the new exhibition Theatre of the World.  I engaged with the O straight away and touched the update button to find an introduction audio from the curator. As I stood in the darkened threshold I viewed the display of random and unconnected objects and was invited by the narrator to look at the objects and reflect on the art of looking and ways of seeing. In fact this introduction was perfect for setting the scene for the tone of the whole museum. You had to have your eyes peeled to navigate the dark spaces but also an open mind for the installations ahead.

Room after room were iconic contemporary  and conceptual pieces juxtaposed with the historical (tribal dance masks, carved statues, coral specimens, Egyptian sarcophagus, ancient Greek and Roman coins, Neolithic flints and mortuary amulets). Every nook and cranny had surprises something up high, down low, around corners like a labyrinth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Darkness decending corridor

 

The IPod touch application was intuitive from the outset. Just hit the update button and wait for the works around you to upload, select the image relating to what you were viewing and find all the information. You could read basic data, listen to audio of interviews with the artists, read the Gonzo (David Walsh ramblings) and the whimsically termed “art wank” if you fancied something more traditionally ‘discursive’. The format was easy to navigate and convenient, just updating as you went along to select from the nearby works to explore on screen. It could also be flicked to landscape orientation for a more accessible font size and a slightly revised, more gestural scrolling interface much like viewing album covers in an ITunes library. But where was the map showing my location and where some of the routes ahead? I was lost in the dark – which way was out?

  

Fear of missing out

There was one frustrating part for me some way through the Theatre of the World: I just couldn’t at all find the data of the object in front of me. Instead I got other objects I had just viewed or others that didn’t resemble the piece at all, (or any in the vicinity).  Giving up after scrolling through the list of objects, I just ventured ahead. Turning a corner, it dawned on me that I may have been locating something, as the object seemed to be located on the other side of the gallery but in fact just behind a wall where I was standing moments before. This happened on a couple of other occasions where I couldn’t immediately find the object in the list of “nearby works”. As perplexing and slightly frustrating as it was at the time I quickly got absorbed in exploring more interviews, or random gonzo anecdotes, musings on the work or behind the scenes chit chat or the “art wank” button.

Art wank? Some might call it colloquial, but I found this labelling very refreshing, so much so, I read the room brochure from cover to cover, (with good deal of amusement). When was the last time anyone read a room brochure from cover to cover? I believe this casual and conversational tone does a fair amount to relax the visitor and create a more receptive ambience to engage with the content, particularly the difficult content. Standing by yourself looking at a photograph of a dog copulating with a man is no easy feat in a public situation, but standing with a stranger looking at said work does become slightly...awkward. But I found security in the O and in wearing the headphones a sense of displacement from others, which for me, helped overcome uncomfortable feelings while viewing confronting content with others.

There is fair amount of shock-value on the walls at MONA. They admit “there are all your favourites, and some stuff you totally effing hate”. MONA’s honesty here is likely backed up by the data captured by the O. In social media style the visitor is invited to Love or hate artefacts along their journey using the O. It was engaging enough to see the works I liked and how my vote stacked up against the majority.  Cute descriptors such as “621 other people have similar warm and fuzzy feelings about this object” is all entertaining enough but some of the statistics left me wanting to know more and to have the data quantified further. 621 out of how many? Just because it wasn’t captured on the O doesn’t mean it wasn’t liked by 1000 other visitors who saw it that day – or since it had been on display?

The content was generally a bit more lo-fi than I had expected (poor quality sound recordings of the interviews) but all worked together as a package. It all seemed really so effortless until I remembered the gallery host instructions “Simply upload your email address when cued by the system and your journey is saved. So why has it asked me four times to retype my email address? Have I got concurrent tours going at the same time? Inadvertently hitting the O return home button was a common error I made, out of habit using my IPhone which meant some waiting for it to reboot. Finally at the exit I asked the attendant to check I had signed out properly, and just as well I did as she explained “now your tour is saved”. At this point, I was slightly sceptical I would receive an email with my tour saved in one piece. Within 2 hours of arriving back to my hotel I checked my email account to no avail, leaving me with a deflated feeling, also confused how I could get such an intuitive simple system so wrong. I decided to go back the next day to get to the bottom of it...

Fear of falling

After checking my email on Sunday morning, lo and behold my MONA tour was there and in one neat tour. I had a new found respect for the O and felt slightly guilty I had decided to front up to MONA with a complaint about the technology. Once there, I took less time to navigate the system (and the galleries) and settled in to cruising around without such a huge agenda. Everything seemed far effortless than the day before. I couldn’t help but notice quite a few visitors abandoned the O device altogether. I even overheard one female explaining to a gallery attendant “it’s frustrating, I’m too focussed on using the thing and not looking at the art properly”. I couldn’t help agree my first day was a bit fatiguing taking in the ‘whole’ MONA experience, reading the small screen text, while also trying to take in the whole of the building and the art piece by piece.  I did have to remind myself to look where I was walking at times. There was a gentleman who’s partner had the device and was compelled to explain things as he pointed and commented – I don’t like this one, this is crap”. Walking on the same gentleman stated “WOW look at this, how amazing” The O is a device people could dip in and out of as the collection could certainly be appreciated in its own right.

That said, I couldn’t help but feel that visitors who weren’t using the O were missing half the fun. The Zizi the affectionate couch label explained if you patted and stroked the furry upholstery Zizi would respond. The purring and mews were interactivity at its best. As I was sitting another visitor joined for respite, without her O, she missed the surprise of the vibrating responses until I explained it was no ordinary gallery seating.

 Views through the layers of architecture, as if installations in themsleves

Most contemporary art galleries create similar experiences and environments, where the visitor enters a magical place and forgets about the daily humdrum and is truly absorbed in an ‘other-worldliness’. This sort of contemporary art experience can be enjoyed pretty much anywhere in the world depending on the curatorial programming. It isn’t unique to MONA. But, there is something... different, strangely compelling and truly exceptional about the place. What is it about MONA that creates this I believe it is the sheer single mindedness of David Walsh. He has created a new language, a casual, conversational tone that puts the visitor at ease with the highly sophisticated displays and allows meaningful engagement on a number of levels.

MONA creates an atmosphere which is astoundingly different and in your face (dark spaces, confronting art, offensive smells, disorienting walkways, poor quality audio interviews, indulgent bars and sloppy language, and loud music) and yet completely accessible. This new language, “the new museum vernacular” is a complex formula where, collection, curatorial direction, vocabulary, programming, technology and environment all come together so effortlessly in a seamless unison.

Fear of failing

Visiting MONA has highlighted to me that museums should take more of a leap of faith and give their audiences the benefit of the doubt, let them be afraid, explore on their own terms, don’t get too preoccupied with “interpreting” everything, and be relaxed and honest about what the museum is about. Why not be bold and try new approaches? Some people will get it and others won't... and that’s OK! With these principles, MONA goes a great way to democratise the experience, is inclusive and promotes inquiry, provokes responses and provides range of engagement. Funding permitting, other museums should be quick to follow a few examples from MONA and soon the world will be “monanised”.

Font of confusion

 

Dear Kettle Chip Company,

I'm writing to you to express my great disappointment with this product, as upon opening the pack, I could not find the beetroot variety in the mix.

I've included some pictures, packets and supermarket receipts for two packets of your vegetable chips.

I've never written my concerns on any food products before, but in this instance I feel compelled to let you know about my utter disappointment in the Kettle company veggie chips.

Upon opening the first pack (for the first time trying the product!) I was confused and just simply couldn't believe what was before my eyes... the simple fact that the packaging labelled 'beetroot' in the largest font might have indicated that in fact there was a FAIR amount of beetroot inside, perhaps the super-sized word could even be interpreted as the 'primary' ingredient? In this instance I would just put it down to a rogue graphic designer who has absolutely NO experience in communication design as it is so called these days.

While the word 'beetroot' was indeed a feature of the packaging it was in no way reflected in the product!

What a let down...

Putting my disappointment behind, I opened the second packet with my family shortly after - there were four of us sharing so the sweet potato was appreciated quickly and we unanimously decided to see what the second pack would offer -

this is what the SECOND pack offered. Continued disappointment, surprise, incredulous wonder, suspicion and deflated feelings. We all looked at what spilled into the bowl, then at each other, then back to the bowl in utter disbelief!

WHERE'S THE BLINKIN' BEETROOT??

If I could give any advice... (well while I'm here writing now and you can't stop me)
Please! Either one of these options might work in desisting a flood of mail similar to mine.

1. Remove the word beetroot from your packaging
2. Add beetroot chips in the product - and plenty of them!
3. Reprimand the the graphic designer and redesign the packet. A trendy use of justifying the text across the pack does nothing for conveying the essence of what's inside it, it merely misrepresents the hierarchy of 'key ingredients'
4. Employ a whiz-kid systems engineer in order to fix the machine on the production line, so it dispenses beetroot at the same rate as the other varieties
5. create a strategic plan around the seasonal availability of beetroot so as to alleviate any potential shortage of the vegetable that may impact its distribution throughout the veggie chip product.

I do hope that the Kettle Chip Company can remedy the situation so that one day I can brave buying another pack, to perhaps relish your product. Until then I won't bother myself with the sheer dissatisfaction.

I hope you have enjoyed my discursive opinions more, than I your veggie chips!

Disenchanted
Bliss
(on behalf of the Jensen family)

Baristas are like hairdressers

I love my morning coffee. Actually, considering I've never been much of a morning person, I really neeeeeeeeeeeeeed my morning coffee to reboot from sleepyland. I generally can't even stomach the thought of a big breakfast first thing in the morning and there seems to be a definite threshold of at least 10:30am which marks my metabolism changing gear and finally I can cope with saying hello to the world with a relatively cheery tone. This brings me to the point of how important coffee is in my daily routine when, these past few months, I find myself having to start work most days for meetings at 8:30am. Even as I write this at 8:30pm I can feel my body twitching and cringing at the mere gesture of gathering with others for congenial chats, let alone the serious brain processes required of 'work' discussions that early!

That said, I'm trying to go with the flow, accept my early morning professional responsibilities and get with the groove. Heck -  I'm even thinking I could perhaps train myself to be a "morning person". The most critical thing for this 'new and improved  morning Bliss formula' would of course be a generous portion of strong coffee. It has become a mission to get on the early morning cafe circuit and discover more of Melbourne.  To-date, it has been a relatively unsuccessful mission as I'm still too often hitting the snooze button for the third time and heading in straight to my desk. I haven't found a  regular coffee establishment that fits the bill either.

I do miss my regular stop in Collingwood since moving house a few months ago. It was a convenient mid-point in my walk to work. It was far enough into the journey, to get the blood circulating so as to improve my complexion from its zombie pallour. It was far enough from the office for the caffeine fix to work its magic and boost my brain capacity to at least avoid getting hit by a tram. Those benefits aside - I miss the good coffee, conversation and obscure coffee art to boot.

    Bebida "spuffo" cafe latte, 2012

I have been braving an exploration about once a week not venturing too far from my path to work and have discovered it's a mixed bag out there. For months now, I've been a babe in the woods, lost and wandering aimlessly in search of early morning coffee options en-route to work. The memory of  that barista still true to my senses, the others just flounder around not even coming close to piquing my tastebuds. With every new cafe I try, I also have a growing guilt of venturing from the riteous path. This feeling is heightened by the usual diappointment of a latte that is too weak or a flat white that is really a latte - only filling my take away cup three-quarters.

Baristas are like hairdressers, when you find a good one you really should stick with them.

I have a great hairdresser, who is tried and tested, consistenly fantastic at knowing what I like and get's my haircuts spot on. She demonstrates a fair intuition when I want to try something really different, she goes for it and creates something surprisingly suitable every time. She also always knows when I have pulled out the kitchen scissors to trim my hair in desperation. Inevitably, I usually bump into her post hair-hacking when my new cut hasn't even had a week to relax and soften. I am totally exposed with the severity of a fringe too blunt and short because of my paultry attempt to make it level and trim. Though I haven't gone so far as seeing another hairdresser, the look of scorn and the silence that follows the glib comment "so you've had your hair cut", always makes me feel like a real sneak and a cheat. There is no amount of explaining, "I just couldn't see" or recounting the amount of pain resulting from eyeballs whipped by coarse dry ends 8 hours of a day, that can ease the tension as her eyes inspect every inch of my head.

And now I can categorically say baristas are capable of stirring the same emotions of guilt, remorse and shame.

Last week in Fitzroy, while waiting for the pedestrian crossing I was caught red handed by the Collingwood barista driving by. Unbeknownst to me he beeped and hollered at the time, screaming "Noooooooo", from his car window, but his cries were lost in the noise of the traffic. It was when I dropped in to the old cafe a few days later and he asked me "are you seeing another coffee maker? " that I quickly realised I had some fast talking to do. The gravity of what I'd done hit me with a sickening panic and regret swelled inside.  I knew full well, by the look on his face I couldn't explain the Wednesday coffee was an experiment, a rarity, an anomaly, a digression.... only once a week (if that!). I just stood there in that moment of silence, aghast, lost for words, feeling dirty!

Without further ado I'd like to advise, with great sincerity, be faitful to your barista!

Green attitude

I have yet another excuse for not posting. I've moved cities and started some new adventures for a while. Now in Melbourne town, I see everything around me with fresh eyes. And yes...I'm still on the hunt for milk crates but I didn't have to try too hard to spot the humble crate incorporated for another handy use.

It's such a foreign concept in Sydney but it seems eveyone rides bikes here in Melbourne!!  A fair proportion between Collingwood and Carlton have a crate configuration. Is it a political statement by a bunch of acivists, with the brazen act of ripping off a crate in defiance of capitalism, slapping the'big M' companies right across the face? Perhaps it is an example of a cottage industry of sorts and just promotes a simple greenie DIY attitude...

green crate = green attitude. Fitzroy 2010

Take your time - Olafur Eliasson

Get in quick, it is the last days of the exhibition at the Museum of Contemporary Art!

This show is not to be missed, because it is also the first ever solo show of the Icelandic artist in Australia. Renowned for his Waterfall, superstructure installlation on the East River, New York, in 2008 and other large scale public architectural sculptures throughout Europe, Eliasson is worth the effort to see on local turf. This exhibition is a survey of more manageable and intimate proportions and shows work spanning his carreer from 1993 to 2008.

Looking at the exhibition as a whole, it appears Eliasson is somewhat a minimalist at heart, right down to the spacial planning and 'no labels' policy of each exhibit, but this doesn't diminish the visual feast and extraordinarily sumptuos experiences throughout. Eliasson is a master investigator and recreator of what often seem like highschool physics experiments and artistic creator of trompe l'oeil-like presentations. Believing there is some trickery at play, when all is in fact bared, is half the revelation of Eliasson's work.

I don't want to give too much away, but agree with the curators and recommend visitors do "take your time", particularly at the Mosswall 1994, to breath in the earthiness of the gigantic curtain of imported raindeer moss and at  Beauty 1993, where the continual shimmering mist of water develops rainbows before your eyes while the tunnel of volcanic ash still lingers on your senses.

Beauty 1993 Collection Museum Contemporary Art, Los Angeles
Image courtesy and copyright the artist. Photography: Poul Pedersen

Even in the white cube gallery environment a strong identity of place prevails and a sense geological forces firmly roots the viewer in an Icelanding experience. Hopefully visitors will get swept away as much as I did, feeling this ominipresent environment, maybe then looking, seeing, sensing the exhibition rather than simply walking through it as a passive observer. The retinal shadow effect of Yellow versus purple 2003 is so simply presented  but so beguiling I revisited it again on the way out...(as I did with many of the exhibits).

Eliasson questions us as viewers and in turn assists us in questioning ourselves and our environment.  The exhibition provokes us to; take a new approach, enquire about our world, experience our surroundings differently for a change and make us realise that seeing as a process is a lot more complex than just 'looking'.

(NB: take your time also to read the room brochure!!!it will add a dimension to your overall enjoyment)

Museum of Conemporary Art
10 December 2009 - 11 April 2010
 $15 adult ticket
Circular Quay West
Sydney NSW 2000

Mythic Creatures - Dragons, Unicorns and Mermaids

Upon visiting this exhibition, I have to admit I was sceptical about the what the content would be and whether the overall treatment of such subject matter could be anything else but 'sensationalism'. I have to admit I was pleasantly surprised. As you'd expect, the show is mostly geared to the younger audiences but also includes some academic discussion about the origins of various myths and creatures.

Originating from American Museum of Natural History, New York, in collaboration with the Australian National Maritime Museum and Field Museum, Chicago, the exhibition shows some fascinating collection items from these institutions as well as other significant international collections. The Feejee mermaid (pictured below) from the Peabody Museum, Harvard University is fascinating addition, one of the highlights, not to be missed in the 100 objects on offer. This freaky skeleton is believed be from the famous Barnum circus hoax of 1841, where the head and torso of a monkey and tail of a fish were sewn together and presented to the public as a grotesque spectacle and 'physical evidence' of Mermaids. The range of cultural objects and imagery helps demonstrate the allure of mythical creatures throughout history and natural specimens add a reasonable range of scientific perspectives.

                Feejee mermaid copyright 2007 Harvard University, Peabody Museum

If you have little people in the family and are at a loose end this April school holidays, it'd be well worth taking them to enjoy the massive replica models and let their imaginations run wild. During my visit I couldn't help appreciate the overwhelming wonder and excitement of all the young visitors. Models of the Kraken, Roc, Dragon, Mermaids and Unicorns certainly invoked a suspension of disbelief to the point where, in one case, a particularly precocious 5 year old was repeatedly stunned into a frozen pose every time the model Dragon roared as he edged over for a friendly pat.

The exhibition is indeed sensational in being able to capture the imagination of the young target audience and I'm sure the big kid in us all will learn something too.

Australian National Maritime Museum
19 December 2009- 23 May 2010
9:30am - 5:00pm daily
FREE entry

2 Murray street
Darling Harbour
Sydney NSW 2000
(02) 9298 3777
where is it?

Watching and looking

This post is dedicated to J, whom I thank mercifully for reminding me that sometimes people might look at this space (and perhaps want to read something since February)...

Apologies for being tardy - you'll be glad to learn I have renewed determination to have a March listing, if not at least for the sake of a tidy archive list! I am thinking of a litany of excuses I could write here such as: a bout of flu that lasted two weeks and resembled meningitis; being attacked and clawed during a feirce netball match leaving my nose bloddied and missing a few layers of skin; falling from the doctor's bed during a check up and tearing tendons in my hand; limping with a swollen, bruised foot for days after a drunken punter walked across it in stilettos while i diligently worked, moonlighting in a nightclub on the weekend; but it would all sound like such fictitious hoop-la that noone would believe, let alone accept any such drivel as an excuse for my mediocre mood and absence from the computer...

                                     Milk crate hoop, Woolloomooloo, Bliss Jensen

Anyway, back to the matter of looking and watching - I am still on the hunt, to provide Sydney-siders with the most comprehensive digest and 'tour' of milk crates around town (refer earlier post). I thought I'd quickly share this little gem with you. It's worth noting, the nearest basketball court is a good kilometre away at the Cook and Philip Park sports complex where entry fetches a pretty premium so you can enjoy the top of the line equipment. But here in a quiet, leafy Woolloomooloo backstreet, the idea of basketball is democratised and set amongst the rustic charm of the neighbourhood. What I most enjoy about this milk crate is the intended pun. It is fastened to the exterior wall of a great heritage building that also happens to be the local community gymnasium. Remember to always look up!

Corner Dowling and Nicholson streets

Woolloomooloo

Sydney NSW

where on earth is that?

Martin Sharp - Sydney artist

Walking into the exhibition you can’t deny there is an immediate visual impact and WOW factor! Sharpe’s work IS instantly recognisable and from a truly brilliant and original mind.

The accompanying room brochure states this exhibition “shows discerning insight into the man, and social issues of our times...” but I’d disagree that merely hanging pictures ‘salon-style’ upon the walls does no more than illustrate how prolific the artist is, and reading the content of the pictures by themselves merely elaborates the personal taste and passion of the artist. Labels with basic catalogue information certainly do no more to unwrap the artist’s involvement in cultural and political contexts or present any deeper thinking about Sharpe’s involvement in other artistic causes such as the Yellow House.

Once I got over the initial frustration of the lack of interpretation, I could begin to appreciate the 120 paintings, posters and mixed media display for what they were. Perhaps this "art for art’s sake" approach was the basis of the curatorial brief? I did enjoy watching the audio visual of the Tiny Tim world record for professional non-stop singing; it was a classic Sharpe production, highly enjoyable, with 100% wit. Moving on, I came to acknowledge that Sharpe is indeed a Sydney talent worth dedicating and showcasing, but thought that perhaps the curator was hiding behind the glory and talents of this artistic master. In this case, there could have been so much more storytelling, than simply the idea of Sharpe’s work in terms of “the medium is the message”. Just because there was so much pop culture material and references surely doesn't mean it is not worthy of a few digestive words here or there? I felt that there was a certain amount of curatorial laziness in cobbling together a bunch of disparate media, that was this exhibition. Surely just delving into a couple of what may be hundreds of amazing personal stories about Martin Sharpe “the artist” could have brought a sense of life to this immense body of work.

Highlights included: Patrick White’s Signal Driver Belvoir st theatre poster 1980s, Sideshow in Burlesco, Nimrod theatre poster 1979, Eternity haymarket acrylic on board 1981 and David Gulpilil in The Thousand Dollar Bill painting 2002-2009, but overall the experience left me disappointed. If only the curator was as much a talented, artistic, individual thinker and activist as Martin Sharpe.

Ho-hum....

Museum of Sydney
Corner Bridge and Phillip St,
Sydney, NSW 2000
Saturday 31 October 2009 — Sunday 14 March 2010
9.30 – 5pm daily
$10 adults, $5, concession/child, family $20, members free

Femme Fatale: The female criminal

“As a double exception, the criminal woman is a true monster. Criminals are an exception in people and women are an exception among criminals.” I was really drawn to this quote at the beginning of the exhibition, probably because the statement illustrates attitudes of a time gone by so well and also cleverly introduces the provocative curatorial direction of the Femme Fatale exhibition.

This show takes a close look at women and crime in Australia from the convict era through the booming years of the infamous inner city Razor gangs of 1920s Sydney. It is a relatively small exhibition space but is absolutely crammed with fascinating historical artefacts and other objects, multimedia and pop-culture memorabilia. The content comes together to paint a vivid picture of the female as the screen siren, the comic vixen and the temptress and seductress of detective stories as well as the revengeful wife, murderous lover and underprivileged opportunist. The exhibition cleverly exemplifies how beliefs about wicked women are cross-cultural and have evolved from archetypal stories of Eve, Medusa and Witches, transcending myth over time, to be embedded in our popular consciousness today.

Don’t let the content of psychopathic murderers, incarcerated criminals, violent offenders, prostitution, sly grogging and stark criminal records with photographic evidence deter you from seeing this exhibition. It is a classy and sassy romp through culture and Sydney’s dark past, injected with just as much humour as there is chill-factor!


7 March, 2009 - 18 April 2010
Weekends 10-5 (booked school groups during the week only)
Closed Good Friday and Christmas day
Adult $8, child/concession $4, members free

Justice & Police Museum
Corner Albert and Phillip Streets
Circular Quay NSW 2001
http://www.hht.net.au/museums/justice_and_police_museum

Brett Whiteley Studio – Iconic Whiteley

Another hidden treasure of inner Sydney, the Brett Whiteley studio is a source for endless inspiration. If you have been living under a rock the past century and do not know who Brett Whiteley is to the Australian art scene, then this exhibition is for you. It is a survey of the many decades of Whiteley’s career from his lesser known work of his late teens and early twenties including landscape abstraction, Christie, and Zoo series, through to his popular Lavender Bay, Paris and Bird series.

The exhibition includes 33 paintings in the downstairs gallery including the self-portrait masterpieces that won him the Archibald Prize on more than one occasion and over half a dozen mixed media assemblages creating a smaller but dynamic and also significant survey of Whitley sculpture.

One of my favourite pieces would have to be the large canvas after French inspiration, titled Fifteen great dog pisses of Paris, 1989, hanging in the upstairs studio lounge. It is a large perspective view of the banks of the Seine with ominous patches intermittently staining the walls, distracting from the majestic, painterly view and upsetting the overall romantic oeuvre that has been recreated. To me this picture is true Whiteley slapping the viewer in the face with his warped and overtly subversive take on the world.

While, you couldn’t ever call Whiteley’s paintings ”pretty” , there is a world of beauty and seduction in his fluid lines, gestural brushwork and bright hued compositions, as there is humour. The unfinished six panel board upstairs in the studio is as fresh, interesting and whimsical today as the day it was left unfinished due to his tragic death in 1992. The studio itself is somewhat of a shrine to the artist with every accoutrement left in situ; the library of books, paints, bed, home furnishings, wall quotes, newspaper clippings and graffiti; giving a spooky sense the artist is still at work. Overall the environment of the studio is crammed with the back story of whitely. It’s worth picking up the old black telephone and listening in on the Andrew Olley interview, where you get a tangible sense of who the artist was and what made him tick. There is a candid discussion about Brett’s battle with drug addiction which perhaps plays a vital part in both the artist’s accomplishments and demise.

There is no denying Brett whitely has left a massive mark on Australian art, a legacy that continues to foster other artists’ talents through the Whitely Travelling Art Scholarship today.

The smaller changing upstairs exhibit of the annual prize this year displays the winner, Nicole Kelly. Her painterly freedom and lavish paint application creates modern and abstract landscapes “without baggage and clutter for the past” (as Whiteley himself would put it). For Whiteley, Abstraction was “Liberating... There is a freedom of mass, line and tone. A sensuality with things slightly out of focus”, and for Nicole Kelly this ethos is also strong.

I look forward to the next changing exhibit at the Whiteley Studio so I can return and discover some more hidden gems I missed this time round.



Brett Whiteley Studio
2 Raper St
Surry Hills NSW 2010
(02) 9225 1740
Free admission
10am-4pm Saturday & Sunday
Thursday & Friday booked school groups
12 September – April 2010
http://brettwhiteley.org/

Untitled - Window Box Installation

A collaboration between Mell Kyriakidis, Sven Simulacrum and Michaela Davies at Medium Rare

I never liked Cabbage Patch Dolls so this one made me smile...

I stumbled across this scenic window display while running some errands on the weekend and found the ghoulish toy sacrifice just too sweet, adorable and humorous to ignore adding it to my list of must see neighbourhood treasures. Medium rare is one space, dedicated to the avant-garde, experimental work and the independent arts community, worth following!

12 - 30 December 2009
Free (to look through the window)
Medium Rare Gallery and Studio
70 Regent Street
Redfern NSW 2016
http://www.mediumrare.net.au/

Fashioning Now: Changing the Way We Make and Use Clothes

...well the milk crate is still up in the tree another month later...and I have added no more words to this blog. Now the panic of guilt has made me succumb to beating out an apology to Timo Rissanen... and a heartfelt farewell to an enterprising and great creative thinker!

Timo Rissanen shirt and leggings, image © Silversalt Photography

I was privileged enough to receive an invitation to the University of Technology Sydney VIP fashion shows scheduled as part of the end of year fashion and textile expo of student projects. Visiting UTS I realised this was a HUGE undertaking and the parades were but a small part of an overwhelming display of the State of Design (borrowing the Victorian design festival moniker), promoting the faculty of Design, Architecture and Building, DAB student portfolios for 2009. The parades themselves were seamless in production, exquisitely atmospheric and the ingenuity of the fashion abundant. This made me reflect on the DAB faculty and the creativity I’ve seen there also in a recent exhibition Fashioning Now curated and produced by UTS staff.

The exhibition showed 9 artists under the broad thematic areas of “source, make, use and last”. The overall investigation pulling the artists together was sustainable philosophy and practice in fashion design today. While across all areas of culture we are now coming to debate and investigate sustainable and environmental solutions, I must admit I was sceptical about what the fashion industry was contributing in this area.

Thankfully this exhibition opened my eyes to some ingenious solutions and practices, from polymer research developing biodegradable fabrics, to Timo Rissanen’s perfectly formed “0: waste” philosophy in pattern making. Rissanen’s intricate and spectacular pattern illustrations epitomised the aims and objectives of the exhibition. They spoke a language beyond ‘fashiony’ fashion and more about how a garment holds its intrinsic value through the design and fabrication, utilising every scrap of fabric to prevent landfill waste, as well as encompassing a facility for alteration. Just as Issey Miyake garments stand the test of time, the exhibition promoted the raise en d’être of ‘quality not quantity’ in a number of the displays.
 
Alex Martin, a performance artist, showed another novel approach to anti-waste and an alternative to the high volume turnover in the fashion industry in her ‘Fashion Detox Diet’. Her whimsical project involved wearing a brown dress for all 365 days in the year, a thought provoking response to the throwaway culture of fashion. You can see more about the little brown dress project here.
 
Reflecting on this exhibition and the recent DAB end of year student shows, I look forward to other ground breaking programs from the University of Technology through 2010. Unfortunately (but fortunate for him) Timo Rissanen leaves the UTS to take up a lecturing position with Parsons the New School for Design in New York. His passion, creativity and forward thinking will no doubt be missed in the Sydney fashion and academic circles.
 
Farewell and good luck to a true talent!

UTS Gallery (University of Technology Sydney)
Level 4, 702 Harris Street Ultimo
Monday – Friday 12-6pm
8 July – 28 August 2009
http://www.fashioningnow.com/
Curated by Alison Gwilt and Timo Rissanen
(Design Architecture and Building Faculty) DAB
Exhibition tours to Fremantle Arts Centre mid 2010

Remember to look up!

I was provoked to respond to a freind's blogpost titled "Back from vacation? don't waste a precious clear mind..." (you can read it here)

…hmmm, well, I am in fact back from a break, but, it seems for me, a holiday is more like a lobotomy. My mind is a mere blurry quagmire of mush. I've only just realised September has slipped me by. Insane work deadlines aside, perhaps it is "the melancholy of things complete" that explains my brain slump....Damn you Wittgenstein!

Along with the regular “what day is it?” holiday mentality, I’ve found myself forgetting to pay bills, leaving my mobile phone at home (on more than one occasion), absently walking past the dry-cleaners when there’s two parcels waiting for me and returning from the supermarket with soap instead of toilet tissue!

Has my frenetic daily work routine conditioned me to function as an astutue human being? Are my two jobs, radio show and blogs now an essential part of me subsisting as a “regular schmo” in the real world? Will I ever be able to relax, take time out, switch off and have a holiday ever again – without my sensibilities and entire life falling apart in the process?

I only have one random recollection from September and that is... Remember to look up! You may enjoy some simple pleasure from the weirdness that appears when you gaze above every once in a while. This milk crate, high in a tree kept me smiling and imagining for hours. It appeared in stealth-mode, camouflaged so perfectly against the blue sky and patchy foliage.

Just remember if bills aren't paid and phones are lost there's still worse things that could happen. ...you could be struck by a kamakaze inanimate object at any time.

In a tree - in perpetuity
corner of Crown and Stanley St
Darlinghurst NSW 2010

Edward Burtynsky: Australian Minescapes

Some 20 or so large format colour digital C-type prints make up this travelling exhibition from Western Australian Museum. Burtynsky captures astounding scenes in these industrial landscapes. Some of the compositions are quite other worldly as the panoramic birds-eye views create abstracted forms resembling lunar landscapes or expressionistic paintings rather than photographs.

Burtynsky travelled in a helicopter to obtain these aerial views. The result is a riveting look at man-made gorges, abstract scenes of a land cut open revealing the earth’s stratigraphy like a layer cake, massive upside-down pyramids of the Super Pit #4 at Kalgoorlie and the painterly abstraction of Tailings #1 and Silverlake Operations #15.


Tailings #1 2007, Kalgoorlie WA, Chromogenic Colour print

While all of the images are spectacular, a real standout is Super Pit #4. The photo also provokes thoughts about how comparatively insignificant the boom town appears perched next to the pit's perimeter, ironically showing how massive our industrial footprint is at the same time. The sheer scale and detail captured in one shot is reminiscent of the panoramic mastery of Melvin Vaniman a century before.

These minescapes were a Foto Freo (City of Fremantle Festival of Photography) commission coming off the renowned international reputation of Burtynsky’s previous series, Shipbreaking in Bangladesh (2000) and Shipbuilding in China (2005). ACP in fact shows a few photographs from these series in the adjoining gallery. The continued ‘industrial wastelands theme’ is also complimented by a stirring audio visual presentation of yet another body of work called the China Series. This series shows the decrepit landscapes of rubbish tips, derelict houses and city demolition sites, alongside oil mines, massive road networks and hundreds of factory workers going about their business.

Overall the images of production and destruction, progression and regression are juxtaposed to great effect. Better be quick to catch this one!


17 July – 22 August 2009
Free entry
Tuesday – Friday 12:00 – 7:00pm every day
Saturday and Sunday 10:00am – 6.00pm

Australian Centre for Photography (ACP)
Oxford Street
Paddington NSW 2021
www.acp.org.au

Exposed! – The story of swimwear

Yes... this show is about “swimmers, togs, sluggos, lolly bags, noodle benders, bathers, neck-to-knee, lolly catchers, budgie smugglers and dick stickers” and a few interesting things in between (pardon the pun).

It is a great exhibition choc-a-block full of objects and some surprising stories drawn from the National Maritime Collection and supplemented with loans from the National Museum of Australia, National Archives, private lenders and designers from around the country. With around 75 swimsuits, posters, postcards, advertisements, audio visuals, designer sketches, accessories and interactives, it’s worth spending some time to look at this exhibition in detail.

One of the primary stories threading through this exhibition is the “reinvention of the bathing beauty which has continued since it emerged in the early 1900s”. With the help of Annette Kellerman “Australia’s Mermaid’ and screen sirens such as Esther Williams, Jayne Mansfield and Ursula Anders, the quintessential bathing beauty image has enduring popularity and become an icon of Hollywood. The swimsuit too has seen its fair share of popularity and endorsement since the early developments in 1890 and its early controversies of being risqué and naughty around the turn of the 20th century. Just taking in a few of the posters upon entry you realise that we’ve certainly had fun with the bikini over many decades. Whether you’re looking at the wistful Bridget Bardot as “a lighthouse keeper’s daughter who believes in dressing light” or the spectacular Esther Williams advertising “dangerous curves ahead” and “how to stuff a wild bikini”, the 1950s promotion of a bikini being naughty AND nice still piques our senses today.

The exhibition takes you back in time with the breadth of familiar and rare historical collection items as well as into the future with an interesting slick mirrored catwalk display of current designs (Zimmerman, Tigerlilly, Seafolly, Jets and Flamingo Sands) evoking an active glamour inspired by Annette Kellerman. I especially like the designs and display of these modern interpretations by our iconic designers with the large format fashion video backdrop.

As well as looking at the quirky side of fads and fashion the technical evolution of swimwear is also represented. The curator, Penny Cuthbert, has included titanium fabrics that mimic shark skin and the controversial LZ men’s Olympic suit, which add depth to all the fun and frivolity. Unexpected elements such as the topless swimsuit, of which 3,000 actually sold commercially, and “when less is more” – the history of the g-string, add to a well rounded and highly entertaining romp through the history of swimwear.

Prepare to be titillated!
Rating: 8/10 mankinis from me



Australian National Maritime Museum
2 July – 25 October 2009
Free entry to the galleries
9:30 – 5:00pm every day (except Christmas day)

2 Murray Street,
Darling Harbour NSW 2009
http://www.anmm.gov.au/

Vaniman Panorama

On entering this exhibition you realize that the story of Vaniman is an intriguing one. He was an adventurer, singer, balloonist and a photographer as well as an inventor. His photographic images are a reflection of his enterprising spirit and show a remarkable detail and a window into a bygone era of Sydney in 1903-1904 where people rode horse drawn buggies and carts through the city.

The first room showcases a general introductory wall panel and a large scale panorama with an interesting contemporary replica of the same view of Town Hall. Accompanying this is a ‘making of’ audio visual which alludes to the fact that these turn of the 20th century panoramas are no mean feat.

The second room displays another five panoramas of various pastoral, urban and harbour and scenes. They show industry and a world going about its business, where cargo is delivered by steamships and the old rail tracks are laden with coal for the city’s sustenance. Again the remarkable detail shows that in amongst all the activity, a worker pausing against a fence railing for a mid-morning cigarette. There is something quaint and nostalgic about this lost city and I’m drawn in to scene after scene comparing them to the modern Sydney I know so well. Is that building still standing? Is that view of the harbor down Bathurst Street still the same? I wonder if the old painted signage remains on that façade.

The panoramas are large scale graphic reproductions with interpretive text integrated in the panels. While the images themselves are compelling, at this point in the exhibition, I couldn’t help but feel a little let down with the overall spartan approach to the curatorial direction and design. A foreword to the exhibition describes how “the State Library of New South Wales is fortunate to hold the world’s finest and most extensive collection of photographic panoramas by Melvin Vaniman”. If this is so, then why are so few on display?

I understand that the platinum contact prints from the original negatives are obviously too fragile for display and that a pragmatic approach creating high res scans and reproduction graphics have to prevail. BUT, on learning that Vaniman scaled a 30m pole he constructed, if a ships mast or hill wasn’t available for a birds-eye view, you can’t help but think “this is really quite something! Now here’s a man with a wholehearted passion for his art”. ...by the way - what did this pole look like and what compelled Vaniman to continue with the panorama format?

Another seven panoramas appeared in the third room. The most interesting image here is of Sydney looking south from Crows Nest where Vaniman tethered his imported American hot air balloon some 180m above the ground to take the shot of the then ‘bridgeless’ harbour. And so my original disappointment continued. Again I couldn’t help but wonder; how did he do this? Perhaps some information about this would have shed some light on the remarkable results that Vaniman achieved. It was only in the room brochure that I gleaned he had used developed special large format camera to make the most of a panoramic view. His invention allowed a single photograph 2 meters by 50 cm high in a single shot! Sounds impressive hey? Well …what did this camera look like? How did he achieve the crystal clear detail with his equipment even way up high, amongst the elements in moving balloon?

Some further research into the man, the social history of the time, or even historical info about the specific locations at the turn of the century would certainly have elevated these photographic images from a general sentiment of ‘olde-worlde’ nostalgia. Vaniman is the perfect romantic adventurer and a more than worthy subject for an exciting, breathtaking and out of the ordinary experience that COULD have been this exhibition.

The exhibition continues until January 2010 so wouldn’t you expect more effort from such a long running program? Perhaps this is a sign and a prelude to future disappointments as government cutbacks continue in the arts and heritage sector? I certainly hope not! If I had to rate the exhibit I’d give it a deflated 2/10.

State Library of New South Wales

20 June 2009 - 31 January 2010
Free entry
Monday -Thursday 9am -5pm
Weekends 10am - 5pm

Macquarie Street
Sydney NSW 2001
http://www.sl.nsw.gov.au/

Another Silk Road

Referencing the trade routes between Asia, the Mediterranean and Europe this exhibition of 9 artists shows works embodying highly varied cultural exchange. All the artists have a connection to China and all their work is based on ceramic production, but contrast through personal experience, two-way exchange and reflection of relationships and the impact of technologies.

In fact this exhibition is not just about ceramics. There are large scale photographic backdrops, a video projection, a looped slideshow and a documentary which help flesh out some of the artists ideas about ceramics, tradition, production and cultural reflections.

It was a pretty straight forward exhibition where the contemporary art space allowed the objects to ‘speak’ in their own terms within the minimalist ‘white cube’. Although there wasn’t much interpretation as far as the labels went, (just the regular data-style art gallery label) I didn’t mind this because a room brochure was at hand for detailed, more narrative information.

There were two standout highlights to the show, Julie Bartholomew’s installation of objects comprising Vuitton Dynasty, 2008 and Qing Prada, 2008 and Douglas Cham’s Banana-kids series, 2008-9. Bartholomew makes a bold statement about global brands competing with traditional cultural forms. Her beautiful replica ‘objects des arts’ delicately express ideas about cultural integration and changing globalized ideals usurping themselves within the modern China.

Douglas Cham’s polished earthenware on the other hand, packs more of a political punch and reflects on his personal experience of displacement as a Chinese male in Australia. The title Banana-kids, is drawn from the term used by immigrant Chinese about first generation children, inferring “yellow on the outside, but white on the inside”. The assemblages of half peeled bananas revealing colloquial motifs such as a crocodile holding a tinny (beer can), are meticulously produced with bright glossy glazed skin and the soft white creamy texture of the unglazed creatures within. They are beautifully rendered pieces which make you want to move right up close to view them. Upon doing so, you are confronted with a subtle sourness in the detail, such as the red inked banana brand stamp on the each skin showing the date 1901-1973, the lengthy period of the White Australia Policy. Among the 8 or so banana skins, Cham also displays an audio visual in which immigrants are interviewed and set the task of hailing a taxi in Sydney city. It is an experiment that, not so subtly, explores racism in Australia. Through his ceramics, Cham isn’t just reflecting his personal immigrant experience and the tension between traditional and Western culture, he also looks at his standing in a broader, collective, Australian position on cultural relations, to expose some interesting tensions.


Ivan Dougherty Gallery
2 – 25 July 2009
Free entry
Monday – Saturday 10am – 5pm
Closed Sundays and public holidays

College of Fine Arts
Selwyn Street
Paddington NSW 2021
http://www.cofa.unsw.edu.au/galleries/idg/

Intensely Dutch: Image, Abstraction and the Word

I wasn’t sure what to really expect from this show at first... For some reason, I hadn’t followed any of the publicity, but, I did anticipate something slightly different to the generalist ‘masters’ shows the Art Gallery so often pushes on to the public. I’m glad my suspicions were correct. I couldn’t help a huge sigh at the entry as I peered through to the first room filled with abstract expressionism. There’s nothing like a really thick, roughly gestured, slab, of paint smeared over a canvas to get my blood pumping! (Well...maybe that’s just me)

Vigorously animated, child-like and primitive, the selection of canvases, portfolios and lithographs exemplify the vitality of the modernist Dutch painters joined in expressing a new optimism post WWII. Early works by the artists of the CoBrA movement, such as Karel Appel, Jaap Nanninga and Constant are bright and energetic, but amongst all the rough edges and flurry of brush marks, the subjects depict innocence and sincerity. My favourite painting, Animal Tamer, 1984 by Lucebert was a beautiful mix of an untidy and grotesque assemblage of teeth and eyes, together with playful and endearing expressions. Most of the works of the 1970s-80s were abstracted and restrained landscapes, but were still truly expressionistic with the heavy impasto finishing. From the instantly recognisable Wilem De Kooning to artists such as Jaap Wagemaker, Bram Bogart and Jan Shoonhoven the exhibition shows the continued style and gusto of the movement through their geometric and sculptural approach to building up the surface of the canvas. Even in the uber-abstracted styles their works are just as emotional and sensual as their CoBrA predecessors.

If you’re into a liberal use of paint like I am, you should enjoy the overall visceral ‘messiness’ of this genre of painting and be prepare to have your emotions stirred. The curator, Hendrik Kolenberg, has cleverly compiled this retrospective of painting and poetry with honesty and wit; successfully revealing some eccentric and surprising elements you’d expect from the Dutch.

Art Gallery of New South Wales
5 June - 23 August 2009
Open every day, 10am - 5pm
Free admission, special exhibition fees apply

Art Gallery Road,
The Domain Sydney NSW 2000,
http://www.artgallery.nsw.gov.au/

FINK - Fostering Design

A retrospective of the entire FINK + Co range is impressive to see in one space. Robert Foster has certainly proven a track record of unique and enduring product design over the past fifteen years. This exhibition of Foster's production range showcases not only his individual designs but the continued collaboration with other leading Australian designer-makers. From Fosters iconic spun, pressed and anodised aluminium beakers and tray, 2005, and Rohan Nichol's jig-formed and hand anodised bracelet, 1998, to Remi Verchot's ply-laminate, hand-turned, wooden bowl 2002, it's hard not to recognise a huge range of talent in one room.

A highlight for me was the wine chiller by Bronwyn Riddiford which is a clever laser-cut pressed anodised aluminium vessel incorporating a rotation moulded, plastic chiller insert that very subtly emits the dayglo hues from within. With the suped-up colour scheme and the sumptuous velveteen finishing of the sandblasted anodised surface, these meticuluously resolved pieces certainly look right at home in the gallery setting. Dare I say, they're almost too sexy to be utilitarian pieces for the home.

Object: Australian Centre for Craft and Design
26 June - 30 August 2009
Tuesday - Sunday, 11am-6pm
Free admission

417 Bourke Street
Surry Hills, NSW, 2010
www.object.com.au