Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
Horror Vacui, The Bristol Biennial
The theme for the first Bristol Biennial will be Storytelling, inviting participants to interpret the theme through visual arts, film and theatre. Storytelling exists in all facets of life: we tell stories and anecdotes to engage others and break down isolating barriers between individuals or groups. Storytelling can enrich our lives, it can be cathartic, it can impart wisdom or illustrate values and customs.
Horror Vacui 1946 - 1986
This work is based on photographs of my family. In constructing this work I have selected images that represent a timeline, approx 1946 – 1986.
The timeline represents my family history post World War II, in particular the maternal legacy passed from grandmother, mother to daughter. Because of my family’s Jewish lineage, this history is unavoidably tainted by the traumatic legacy of war and displacement. The images follow my family from Germany, to Tel Aviv, Paris and Melbourne. Each family member has been silhouetted; personal identity has been masked by the traumas of the past.
The images are not presented chronologically, but are grouped according to certain echoes and visual dialogue. An example of this is the pairing of the images of my mother in Israel 1951 and Melbourne, 1976. In the first she is a young girl of 5 years celebrating the harvest festival of Sukot, the second image is in Melbourne, it is her 30th birthday. In both images she is wearing a crown of flowers and leaves.
Horror Vacui evokes the threat of the vacuum, the palpable presence of absence and the repetition of history.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Family Portaits
I have been scanning lots of old family photos and slides lately. Some of them I have never seen before.
It's a strange process, discovering and rediscovering captured moments.
In the earliest photos the subjects are so aware of the presence of the camera, presumably amateur photography is still a relatively alien technology. The earliest photos are incredibly staged and posed and you get the feeling that their breath is held for the camera, however these are the most historically significant as they are documents of survival. And despite their posturing the images betray truths about their subjects and environs. The negative spaces.
Some of them show my mum as a baby in Germany, the name of the town scribbled on the back (approx 1946). In others she is walking down a dirt path between two rows of staked vegetables, she has a crown of leaves on her head and a small wicker basket in one hand. She looks like she is about five or six years old, and from this I deduce she must be in Israel. Then a handful from Paris. Then Australia, familiar imagery of St Kilda, photos of her family infront of their house. The suburbs look like they are radiating heat, even through black and white.
The photos I like the best are from the 60's. The family had finally settled in East St Kilda, Melbourne.
There are slides of family portraits infront of large spiky palms.
It's a strange process, discovering and rediscovering captured moments.
In the earliest photos the subjects are so aware of the presence of the camera, presumably amateur photography is still a relatively alien technology. The earliest photos are incredibly staged and posed and you get the feeling that their breath is held for the camera, however these are the most historically significant as they are documents of survival. And despite their posturing the images betray truths about their subjects and environs. The negative spaces.
Some of them show my mum as a baby in Germany, the name of the town scribbled on the back (approx 1946). In others she is walking down a dirt path between two rows of staked vegetables, she has a crown of leaves on her head and a small wicker basket in one hand. She looks like she is about five or six years old, and from this I deduce she must be in Israel. Then a handful from Paris. Then Australia, familiar imagery of St Kilda, photos of her family infront of their house. The suburbs look like they are radiating heat, even through black and white.
The photos I like the best are from the 60's. The family had finally settled in East St Kilda, Melbourne.
There are slides of family portraits infront of large spiky palms.
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| The Royal Botanic Gardens, Melbourne |
Friday, September 30, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Nightsoil, in progress, August 2010
This project commenced with research on the origin of St Kilda's bluestone lanes. The laneways have always fascinated me because they are an inbetween space; they run between roads and buildings, between dwellings, and consequently they hide many shady dealings. They are architectural but not monumental and they run like arteries, conducting and segmenting the landscape and its occupants.
Research took me to the Victorian era, the building of St Kilda and the concerns of starting a settlement. This research highlighted a terrible issue with sanitary conditions. And it was this issue that eventually led to the construction of the bluestone paved lanes, allowing access to the nightman and his nightcart.
He would travel these lanes and collect the nightsoil from the earthclosets that backed each property. The nightsoil was then taken to the cesspit and disposed of.
I became fascinated with these suggestive and ornamental words used in the Victorian era to describe the abject and spaces of abjection.
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