Looking to find great arts while supporting local artists and Indigenous communities? This is your chance.
The Blak Markets is coming to Redfern for a day filled with Aboriginal arts, craft and foods from local stallholders. Featuring Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander artists and producers, the event will also have performances from Redfern Dance Company’s Aboriginal Performance Group as well as live music and workshops.
Interested in the art of tattooing? This weekend, don’t miss out on this event.
Celebrate and learn more about the body art from the best people in the business – meet the industry’s most talented artists, research different tattoo genres, trends and techniques, or get inked on the spot! Featured experts include Dylan Weber (Atlantis Tattoo Studio), James Strickland (Seven Tattoo Studio, Los Angeles) and Tater Tatts (Impact Tattoos).
Adult tickets start at $35. For more information, visit the Expo’s website.
March 9-11, 10am | International Convention Centre, Darling Harbour
Nature provides some of the greatest arts that humankind has ever seen through unique objects and visual experiences. Because of this, spending time in nature is beneficial for designers, illustrators, sculptors, painters, photographers and other creatives alike. Here are a few reasons why natural arts can help artists grow and improve in their works.
Health, Mental and Spiritual Benefits
Being in the natural world has been proven to bring health benefits and promote mental and physical well-being. Studies found that being outdoors not only helps in reducing stress levels and controlling blood pressure, but it also is potent in relieving mental fatigue, decreasing anxiety and depression, as well as generating a sense of awe – all of which are supportive of your artistic endeavors.
Inspiration for Artworks
Stuck in a creative rut? Beautiful natural objects and landscapes are a great source of inspiration and new perspectives. “Artwork based on nature is aesthetically pleasing and deeply calming, and in some cases, it can evoke more rushed emotions when based on powerful forces of nature,” says Fine Art America. “Art inspired by nature works to remind humanity of its connection with the universe that surrounds it.” Need some proof? Check out the works of environmental artists like Andy Goldsworthy or Agnes Denes.
A Study in Material
An hour of exploration and observation in the nature will expose you to various materials, textures, colours and other visual elements, all of which can serve as a reference for your next art project. You can also learn more about ways to use natural materials sustainably.
You have to get more than a bit mad to single-handedly launch a campaign against inequality. At a recent forum, visual artist Elvis Richardson wryly described how anger was the catalyst that sparked her to start CoUNTess, a blog that assembles and reviews data on gender representation in Australia’s contemporary art scene.
Since 2008, Richardson has analysed the gender breakdown of who gets exhibited, collected, reviewed and rewarded. Converting indignation into statistics and emotion into hard facts, her blog provides irrefutable evidence that gender bias is an ongoing problem besetting the visual arts.
The most current snapshot illustrates that only 34% of the artists shown in state museums are women. In commercial galleries, the proportion is 40%. In the art media, 34% of feature articles and reviews are about women, but 80% of magazine covers are dedicated to male artists.
Change needs to be embraced at every level, not least in developing art curriculum in secondary schools. Victorian students who sat their final Studio Art exam last week were given 14 images to write about, of which only one was produced by a woman. A cursory survey of exams in previous years and other states suggests such bias is entrenched.
Over the past decade, the gatekeepers of the Australian art scene have started responding to the unconscious bias Richardson documents. When comparing the graphs and charts in her old posts with the 2016 CoUNTess Report, it is possible to identify small improvements. Still, as Richardson says in her report introduction:
The closer an artist gets to money, prestige and power the more likely they are to be male.
A recent study by David Throsby and Katya Petetskaya also shows the gender pay gap is substantial in the Australian art scene.
The 2016 CoUNTess Report was made possible with support from the Cruthers Art Foundation. This organisation is making a substantial contribution towards rebalancing the statistics via the Cruthers Collection of Women’s Art, the only dedicated public collection of art by Australian women.
Begun in 1974 as a private family collection acquiring women’s art, the collection consists primarily of portraiture, self portraiture and art that is focused on still life, abstraction, early postmodernism and second wave feminism.
The collection was gifted to the University of Western Australia in 2007 and is housed at Lawrence Wilson Art Gallery. Cruthers curator Gemma Weston believes the collection plays a role in valuing and making visible the work of women artists, which in turn can provide a pathway to its acceptance in the institutional domain. Individual works are often loaned to other art museums around Australia.
Weston identifies visibility as a key factor in determining what gets collected and how an artist gets traction in her career. She says institutional recognition is a long and complicated process of gathering momentum, which often begins with the private collector rather than the art museum.
There is no doubt that all-women collections and exhibitions can help to change the depressing statistics assembled by Richardson. There is concern, however, that this strategy can cause ghettoisation.
Weston is conscious of this conundrum. Cruthers’ current show Country and Colony moves beyond the concerns of previous exhibitions to document “women’s art” and “women’s issues” through biography, autobiography and portraiture.
While gender and feminist politics are a subtext, Colony and Country profiles new acquisitions that deal with the fraught history of colonialism. The paintings, prints and objects by Indigenous and non-Indigenous artists tell stories about land, landscape, the body, industry and culture.
Building momentum for change
While the speed of change appears glacial, the momentum to overcome structural inequality for female artists appears to be building. In September, 11 top gallery directors, curators and arts organisation chiefs in the UK united in a call for greater representation of female artists.
A month later, possibly encouraged by the fall of the American movie producer Harvey Weinstein, the call-out of sexist and abusive behaviour in cultural industries spread to the visual arts. Numerous sexual harassment allegations were made against powerful and prominent gatekeeper, Artforum co-publisher Knight Landesman.
Landesman’s resignation from the international art publication has prompted many more women to come forward with stories about his alleged behaviour. An open letter written by women in the art world, “We are not surprised”, has morphed into a larger campaign linking abuse of power with structural inequality.
By providing a graphic illustration of inequality, Richardson’s CoUNTess project has done much to bring the issue into view in Australia. Together with Weston’s thoughtful management and curation, the Cruthers Collection of Women’s Art is another important step in changing the status quo. Many arts organisations and individuals who have the capacity to bring about change have started counting and making an effort to rectify the imbalance.
Yet when part of the cost of overlooking structural inequality is sexual harassment it is time for more decisive action. While extreme examples of sexual misconduct have not (yet) been exposed in Australia, demeaning behaviour is regularly meted out by the art scene gatekeepers. There are also anecdotal stories of grooming and sexual advances by powerful male gatekeepers. At present, few speak up because they fear damaging their career prospects.
The CoUNTess Report recommends that “stakeholders in the Australian visual art sector routinely collect, analyse and publish gender representation data and use it to inform their policy decisions”.
A rebalance of gender representation will only occur if all institutions that have a role in shaping the value of artists’ work start counting.
As in the tertiary sector, many more girls than boys study art at school. In Victoria, for example, 73% of the cohort who completed Studio Art in 2016 were girls. Unless there is significant improvement, why would future generations of women pursue a career in the visual arts?
Love yourself some Studio Ghibli flicks? Well, good news – the animation house’s complete catalogue is coming to Australian cinemas.
The showcase features all 22 films from Ghibli, including the popular My Neighbor Totoro, Spirited Away and Princess Mononoke, the seldom seen Ghiblies Episode 2, and the first ever to be screened in Australia, Ocean Waves.
The opening night of Celebrate Studio Ghibli Showcase also promises an event to remember, as ticket holders can get an opportunity to win special A1 print by award-winning artist Shaun Tan.
The showcase will run from August 24 to September 20 at select cinemas across the country. For tickets and more information, visit Studio Ghibli’s website.
What is “art” really? And how can we define the term? To put it simply, “art” is a form of expression. Anyone with a background in art can tell you that, regardless of the medium or the canvas. But where do we draw the line with street art? Graffiti has been a controversial topic of discussion in the art world, with many conservative audiences arguing that it is a form of vandalism. Let’s deconstruct the legal implications of graffiti.
Let’s say someone has painted over your car or your house without your permission. You wouldn’t be very happy about that. But would you feel the same if the painting was a beautiful work of art rather than a street tag? Do we discriminate the artwork based on its style or skill level? Or do we disregard the painting altogether because it’s someone’s property?
According to Angie Kordic from Wide Walls, “the excitement of being a renegade and the fear of getting caught is what many artists consider the very core of graffiti culture, especially during the days of rough, growing competition and the willing to become as good at drawing as you possibly could. When caught in act, however, the writers get charged with vandalism, fined, and given community service hours during which they help clean up graffiti. By definition, it is “an action involving deliberate destruction of or damage to public or private property”, and while we can’t argue that graffiti (mostly tags, considered a reductive form of art within graffiti community itself) often end up on someone’s walls, we do have to wonder if it really is “destruction” and if, perhaps, we’ve been asking the wrong question the whole time.”
What do you think? Is graffiti a form of vandalism?
Who is an artist and when does a fabricated object become art? The 200 individuals represented in The Museum of Everything exhibition at MONA in Hobart focus our attention on these questions. On the website they are described as “untrained, unintentional, undiscovered and unclassifiable artists of modern times”. They are hermits, governesses, housewives, former miners, taxidermists and ex-soldiers, working in painting, sculpture, and an extraordinary range of other media.
While these people may “unintentionally” be making something we might want to describe as art, they are the most focused, driven and compulsive group of makers we are ever likely to encounter, and there is nothing that is unintended in the things they fabricate. Indeed they make these images and objects because they must depict in some form what is most important to them in their lives.
After an exhilarating journey through 30 rooms and many corridors of remarkable images and objects, these questions about the nature of art and the credentials of artists reach a critical mass. Finally, you arrive in a backyard courtyard, entered through a fly-wire screen door. Painted on the wall is a call-out for more people who might be included in some future exhibition. It asks, are you a self-taught or secret artist? Is your home your own personal gallery? Have you invented a private language? If so contact The Museum of Everything.
This last advertisement alerts us to the real conundrum of encountering so many unique individuals and creative practices, who likely never expected us to engage with the things they have made. If they are secret artists, who have developed a private language and wish to keep their activities to themselves, what are we doing prying into their work and their lives?
Can we even call what they make “art”, in the way we conventionally define it, if there is no intention to communicate with an audience?
Outsiders, or just artists?
Other writers have struggled to explain the remarkable work produced by men and women for whom the act of creation is fundamental to their existence. After the second world war, the French artist Jean Dubuffet coined the label art brut, or raw art, to describe the amazing work he collected from individuals incarcerated in institutions or those that made art privately to fulfil a deep need.
In the 1970s, Roger Cardinal, a British academic, opted for outsider art as a more useful catch-all for artists working on the margins of the art world. Others have grouped the work of this army of practitioners under classifications such as naïve art, visionary art and folk art.
Whatever box we put them in, and none is entirely satisfactory, the artists whose works adorn the walls of MONA are clearly extraordinary.
These objects have been removed from the homes, hospitals, and workshops where they were made. We are forced to make decisions about how to approach and read them and how to react after engaging with them. We must learn to lift the filters we normally have in place in an art gallery and really look hard at works that break rules, disrupt expectations and offer us insights into the lives of remarkable human beings.
Each of these artists has remade their world through a physical engagement with the tools of art, and because of that, we have a window into some extraordinary personal narratives.
There is Henry Darger the hospital custodian from Chicago who returned home each evening to continue working on his manuscript, “The Story of the Vivian Girls, in What is Known as the Realms of the Unreal, of the Glandeco-Angelinian War Storm, Caused by the Child Slave Rebellion”. He is represented in the exhibition by a series of consecutive panels of drawings illustrating his magnum opus, a sprawling and tender series of traced images woven together with pencil and watercolour.
Adolf Wölfli was disturbed and violent, living most of his life in the Waldau Clinic, a psychiatric hospital in Bern. He drew compulsively and like Darger set out to create a massive literary work, in his case a rambling autobiography that saw his gradual elevation to the Sainthood as “St Adolf II”. His dense, complicated and intense drawings in pencil fill the page, leaving no space inactive.
In 2007, I had the opportunity to meet Stan Hopewell, who is represented in this exhibition by his masterwork “The Last Supper”. The task appeared so great, so necessary and so profound that to embark on it Stan required divine guidance. When his wife Joyce became ill, Stan made a pact with his God that he would continue to write and paint to celebrate God’s Love while Joyce remained alive.
Over the next five years, he filled his house with paintings, which he believed were made with the assistance of an “an unseen Angel” and wrote pages upon pages of a stream-of-consciousness manifesto about his life and his beliefs. The day Joyce died, Stan stopped writing and painting. His fantastical works incorporate the events of his life, his family, his abiding faith and current events. They were agglomerations that evolved, each addition adding to the complexity and the scale of the work, incorporating angels with flapping wings, illuminated with lights and adorned with his wife’s knickknacks.
Ambition and obsession
Darger, Wölfli, and Hopewell are only three of the human stories from the vast array that lie behind the over 2,000 objects hung throughout the temporary gallery space of MONA. Of course, they add a dimension to our reading of the work, but it is also true that the imagery is so powerful, so disruptive, so fresh and confronting that it commands our attention.
What makes this work so arresting is the urgency of its making. These are images and objects that had to be made, that could no longer be repressed. Whether intended for others or created for solitary contemplation, they have an intensity that draws us deep into their fabricated worlds.
Obsessive detail is a common stylistic trait. Scale and ambition are others. Hans-Jörg Georgi’s amazing flight of aircraft, designed for escape from an uninhabitable planet, spiral through the gallery space in a torrent of energy. Their fuselages, carefully constructed from cardboard and tape, are maniacally compulsive, showing each detail of the engines and propellers, the wing mechanisms, passenger decks and windows. Both prophetic and wildly funny, this work, like so many others in the exhibition, requires a shift in consciousness to fully absorb its significance.
What better place to confront these works than in MONA, a space that has rethought the modern museum and helped us to re-imagine the experience of engaging with artworks? The works are set within rooms designed to create the sense of a slightly dilapidated home-museum: wallpapered, sporadically architraved, cluttered with objects and glass display cases.
It is James Brett, the founder of The Museum of Everything and curator of this show, whose guiding intelligence is everywhere present. Each room is themed. Carefully positioned works draw you through into the next room of wonders where new relationships and variations on old themes play out.
Like every passionate collection, the compulsion to overwhelm is never resisted, but strangely this leads to an insatiable appetite for more. This is most definitely an exhibition that both requires and demands multiple visits.
Which brings us back to those big questions: is it art, and should we be viewing it? Perhaps the best way to describe the individuals whose works fill the Museum of Everything is that they separately and as a group pose questions about the nature of art and challenge us to ponder what it means to be an artist. Significantly, through this process, they highlight the sense of our own humanity and showcase the qualities we ascribe to humanness. What could be more rewarding, inspiring and affirming?
The Museum of Everything will showing at MONA until April 2 2018.