Monica Rohan’s Fall to Grace

It’s a funny sort of self portraiture that keeps the face hidden. I’ve never fully understood why an artist does it. Is it because they don’t want the work pegged solely as self-portraiture? Or they’re rubbish at painting faces? Maybe seeing their face before them is a bit like when I hear my voice on a recording and recoil in horror. That’s not me.  Perhaps it’s that faceless self-portraiture protects the artist from explicit recognition and having to explain. Whatever events and emotions may be covered in a work, without the inclusion of the face, the identity of the protagonist … Continue reading Monica Rohan’s Fall to Grace

Abbey McCulloch’s The Shallows

Swimming in deep water unnerves me. I discovered this about a million years ago when I was a lifesaver on the Gold Coast. Being scared of what’s below you in the darkness is not ideal in that line of work, though it did tend to manifest itself in rather fast swim times just so I could get back into water shallow enough to see through. On the long training swims, way out past the break, I used to chant a little poem by ee cummings to myself to keep my mind calm and focused “for whatever we lose (a you … Continue reading Abbey McCulloch’s The Shallows

Seven Stages of Grieving

Last night at the opening of Queensland Theatre Company’s 7 Stages of Grieving, I made a big statement that I don’t really write about theatre. Not because I don’t enjoy it; rather it’s because I enjoy it too much to spend a whole performance trying to remember what I want to say about it. But then I saw the show and my brain went into overdrive. There are so many places I could take this piece right now. Discussions around family ties, the differences in Aboriginal theatre vs mainstream theatre, Australian politics, Brisbane’s arts scene, the benefit of a good script…lots … Continue reading Seven Stages of Grieving

Fashion as Art…so…FART?

Oh, blerg. It’s ‘fashion as art’ season again. This happens every few years – the major public galleries around the country throw their doors and wallets open and devote their main exhibition spaces to blockbuster fashion shows. There was Vivienne Westwood at the National Gallery of Australia a decade ago, the Valentino retrospective at GoMA in 2010, and I vaguely recall an Yves Saint Laurent one happening during a Sydney trip in the heady 1980s (Pixie Skase and Eileen Bond must have been all over that). Right now, we have no less than three fashion exhibitions running concurrently across the country. Everywhere … Continue reading Fashion as Art…so…FART?

Quiet Please, There’s a Lady on the Stage

Here’s an interesting one… Today, 8 December, marks the 354th anniversary of women first appearing professionally on the English stage as actresses. Funny, isn’t it, that the theatre should ever have been so exclusory of women when I’ve always viewed it as a place of refuge, welcoming of practically anyone provided you could remember your lines and hit your mark. The suspended reality, the camaraderie when you and the rest of the cast are nervous and about to appear before an audience, the hiding behind another persona, the acclaim when it all goes well. I haven’t acted for what feels like a … Continue reading Quiet Please, There’s a Lady on the Stage

Maggi Hambling is okay by me

Wowsers, I’ve just read probably the most mean spirited review on an artist’s work ever, by Guardian art critic Jonathan Jones (you can read it here if you haven’t had your daily dose of bitterness yet). Now, Jones unquestionably knows more of art’s historical movements and awkward stages than I do, but I’m not sure that necessarily qualifies him to go on the attack the way he did in reviewing Maggi Hambling’s new show at the National Gallery in London. I didn’t actually know who she was when I read his review (though her face was familiar to me once … Continue reading Maggi Hambling is okay by me

Hope & Love: through the eyes of refugees

You know what’s great about Australia’s handling of our refugee ‘crisis’? It’s that no matter how long you take to write about it, it never gets old. I’ve been faffing around since April last year trying to write about refugees and, rather than being out of date, it’s still current. In fact, I’d go so far as to say it’s even more current now than it was then. That never happens. It’s like journalistic manna from heaven! The issue of asylum seekers is hard to write about without sounding like a massive bleeding heart. Thirteen years ago, with the images of … Continue reading Hope & Love: through the eyes of refugees

The Little Things

“There’s a reason people build miniatures. Doesn’t matter if it’s guys laying out model railroads or women decorating dollhouses. It’s about control. It’s about reinventing reality. Some people get a lot of satisfaction in creating a little world they can escape to. In making things turn out the way they want, at least in their dreams.” ― Jane Lotter, The Bette Davis Club Christmas Day, 1983. There is an enormous box sitting to the left of the tree, wrapped in what must have been yards of pink tissue paper. Honestly, it’s so huge I could live inside it. I wonder … Continue reading The Little Things