Last Winter

It was ridiculously hot the night of Shane Kent's exhibition opening at Australian Galleries. I stupidly cycled there and felt pale and clammy amongst the beautiful people, as they nibbled on their wagyu beef hors d'oeuvres and completely bewildered by the fact that I couldn't see any 'pots'. Plates, yes, on the walls, but not a plinth with a vessel to be seen.

Shane's previous exhibitions have included flat based, high sided forms, cups with fluid handles and curvaceous, bath-like shapes, all covered in his trademark, landscape-inspired markings and a spectacular, almost golden, high gloss, clear glaze. This show was different and opening night had me befuddled. I made the decision to scarper and come back another day and when I did I was fortunate enough to catch Shane and ask him a question or twenty, which he patiently answered.

Shane is interested in observation, the recording of observations and viewer recognition of what is recorded. Last Winter features a series of large scale, wall mounted compositions that record his observations of a bare Hawthorn tree in winter, over long periods of time. Rather than 'draw' the tree, he records precise imitations of what he witnesses by scratching on unfired porcelain plates.

The marks on the white surface are only revealed when black clay is washed over them and scraped back. The resulting 'drawings', while being intimate observations of  the emerging shapes and spatial relationships of a single tree, come to resemble abstract, landscape pictures of fields of wheat , barbed wire fences or aerial views of pastoral land.

The glaze and colours of his previous work has been replaced by the matt black and white of vitrified porcelain and terra sigillata, so as not to distract the viewer from recognising the intimacy of the artist's observations. The compositions balance light and dark, fine and bold to become strikingly beautiful displays of chiaroscuro. 

There are many other elements at play in this exhibition. Taught in Japan to create the surrounding space when making a pot, rather than the pot itself, Shane is interested in the environmental effect of objects. In mounting the plates on the wall he attempts to manipulate the atmosphere of the gallery space. These are not canvases and are not flat. The sculptural curve of each form, with it's raised central point, cushions the surrounding space, softening the square room and creating a flow of energy that would otherwise be still.

Wall mounting these mark-laden plates also conjures cave drawings. Early inspiration for this body of work came from journeys in outback Australia and Shane pointed out that, unlike painting on a canvas, his drawings are created from above, as the plate lies flat, akin to the process used in aboriginal dot painting. To this purpose four plates were set on a bench, lying flat as they were when they were created. For me this acted as a nod to the initial function of the plate form and the roots of Shane's practise and provided a required counterpoint to the wall mounted installations.

Last Winter marks the beginning of exploration into large scale, architectural ceramics. Shane cites the drawings of Richard Serra as a strong influence and an admiration for the ceramic murals of Miro. Some of the works in this show utilise physical impressions for marks, rather than scratches and painted lines, giving flashes of the sculptural scope of the medium and perhaps a sign of things to come.

I asked Shane if his purpose was to explore the multitude of ideas represented in this work for personal fulfilment or with a desire to communicate a message. He responded that his aim was to create work that could be recognised for what it is. Good answer. I look forward to seeing where it takes him next.

Shane Kent

Last Winter

Australian Galleries (Smith St, Melbourne)

12 March to 7 April

Photoworks by Emidio Puglielli

The absurdity of taking photos of photographic artworks was not lost on me as I did it, but I felt compeled. I knew I wanted to talk about Emidio Puglielli's exhibition on my blog and I'm not particularly comfortable with words and no pictures.

To be clear - Emidio is a friend and I know he reads my blog (hi Em), but I do, so very much, admire his work.

Over the past couple of years I have attended quite a few of Emidio's exhibitions and have often had the good fortune to have the artist with me to talk about his interests. Through this manner, my understanding of his intent has grown and I love that contemplation and time is required to fully appreciate the artworks' inherent value.

I can't describe what it is Emidio does with photos any better than the official exhibition description, so have included it below. What I can say, however, is that when I look at Em's art I become acutely aware of so much more than the subject matter alone. The works manage to simultaneoulsy bring into focus the subject and location, the photographer, a sense of memory, emotional belonging or perhaps detachment and even the materiality of the photograph itself. The actual photos become a distinct lesson on the power of the object.

"Emidio is a Melbourne based artist and curator. His work investigates the relationship we have with photographs. Emidio’s main interest is in reflexive and non-representational photography. He holds a Masters degree from the University of Tasmania and has exhibited widely including CAST Hobart, CCNO Brussels, Sydney Non Objective Projects, CCP and Conical Melbourne and QCP Brisbane. Emidio has a keen interest in old photographs and their continued resonance in contemporary society. He collects vernacular photographs to use and re-image in his work. The main focus is with the relationship between the materiality of a photograph and its image, in particular how the reading of the image changes when the material is damaged. He highlights the construct of the photographic illusion by drawing attention to the surface (front and back) and its structure. He addresses the photograph as an object and uses it as a subject. The work uses the matter of photographs including any text found on their reverse side to interrupt the pull of the image. Strategies used include presenting front and back simultaneously, sandpapering and applying fields of map pins.

Looking through a photograph compresses spatial and temporal elements to produce a new document of a photograph and its subject. Sand papering engages the surface of a photograph, erasing the original image and replacing it with another image. Map pins signify a place of importance and sticking them through a photograph reminds us that the moment photographed was at some point important to someone. These devices also confound the usual way we address a photograph and make us think about the object in front of us and all that it is imbued with. The work is reflexive. It points to itself to question what it is that photographs are and what they do to and for us."

Emidio Puglielli's exhibition Photoworks runs to 15 May, at the Stephen McLaughlin Gallery in the Nicholas Building in Melbourne. Of course I encourage all to visit and experience the works for themselves.

And if you are in the mood to lose yourself in the memories of strangers you can also visit his blog - a online archive of his constantly expanding photo collection.

Monster Zoo

Parenting a seven year old boy broadens your interests!

Justin Austin
Monster Zoo
13 Oct - 14 Nov
Pieces of Eight Gallery

Read an interview with the artist here.

A visit to Craft Vic

Isn't it amazing how much your 'head space' effects your experiences. Stating the obvious to say the least, but it fascinates me how much what you take in to a situation effects what you take out.

Okay, to explain further, on Friday I went to Craft Victoria for a work related reason but with the full intention of taking advantage of the moment to view the three exhibitions that had opened the night before.

Business concluded, I wandered through the space and did my best to take it all in. Now I should point out that my week had been HHEECCTTIICC. A new show at Pan, an office space to set up, a large order to complete, a school issue to resolve and then some. What I took away from all three exhibitors was simply an experience of space. Not internal space, I honestly had no mental energy left to be challenged by concepts. Just a basic external experience of space.

It went like this...

I spent a little time hanging out in Simon Lloyds workshop-like structure thinking "Wow, there's chiaroscuro right there on those shelves full of odds and bobs."

That's nice.







Then I ambled through to the next room and thought "Hello, I've just left earth" and spent a little time in Natasha Dusenjko's outer space.

That was nice too.




Then finally, I snuck around the corner to Liz Low's space. That was really, really nice. Sitting in wait for the artist to begin her work in the gallery, the potter's temporary studio was white, clean, unused and quiet. So, so quiet. I nearly curled up in a little ball next to the wheel but luckily Liz turned up before I embarrassed myself.

There is so much more to these shows and I encourage you to follow the links to find out more or visit if you can. But last Friday this was all I was capable of. And 'nice' is an insipid little word that most high school English teachers ban from use but every now and then it's just...well... apt.

No vacancy

The inclusion of LRB in my last post solicited some (perhaps legitimate) concern from my nearest and dearest. But hey - it made me smile.

On to other matters. Today I braved the freezing Melbourne wind and headed into the city to check out the No Vacancy Art Market in the QV building. It was a little rough around the edges but I do appreciate collectives that make the effort (and I know that it takes a great deal of effort ) to expose artists' works to a greater audience.


The works were affordable and made it easy support local artists and acquire something above and beyond the generic wares found in most city stores. (I have a new t-shirt thanks to sneak design!) And the guy running the show was friendly, enthusiastic and informative which is always refreshing in any art scene.


My only concern (here it comes - unsolicited criticism!) with the plethora of similar markets across Melbourne of late is that the pieces on show begin to follow trends and become something a little less than original. Girls with big eyes and wispy hair, skulls, guns and kooky stuffed toys seem to be the 'thing' at the moment, as is using a skateboard as a canvas.

That said, I enjoyed allowing my eyes a wander. I do feel so lucky to be able to have a visual fix whenever I chose. And I liked the location - inside (away from the wind!) and being smack in the middle of all those fancy designer stores made for a wonderful contrast.

Runs till 17 May.

If you get a chance...

There is a Rosalie Gascoigne retrospective on currently at the NGV. I went yesterday, knowing little about the artist or her work. After a moment of perplexity I was swept away.

Her work is incredibly meditative - 'Natural assemblages' that use materials found on scavenging expeditions such as scrap iron, wood, wire and feathers, faded drinks crates, yellow Schweppes boxes and worn out domestic items such as torn floral lino, patchy enamelware and old dolls. The objects are assembled to evoke experiences of the landscape in which they are found.

I delighted in finding my own interpretation of pieces were often reflected in their titles, which I deliberately left to reading until after viewing each work.

The Roslyn Oxley9 Gallery website has many images of her work and in a press release for a previous exhibition quote Martin Gascoigne as saying “Rosalie Gascoigne used to say, “Art doesn’t come from nowhere, it comes from a long line of human experience, and I like to think that I can pare things down to conform with a sort of classicism.” She does this so beautifully.

Rosalie Gascoigne is showing at the Ian Potter Centre: NGV Australia
until 15 March.

An aside...

I am often tempted to purchase the catalogue of an exhibition I enjoy, as a reminder of the experience more than a desire to own reproductions. I chose not to on this occasion as I felt the reproductions didn’t adequately capture the mood of the works. The contrast in the catalogue images seemed too harsh and what I love about Gascoigne’s art is the subtlety and muted nature of the worn materials.

I have a similar issue when correcting my own poorly taken photographs. (My excuse this time is the perfectly understandable 'no flash policy' at the gallery!) The auto correct button is an easy option but it usually makes the image ‘hyper-real’. Perhaps it removes the effects of atmosphere that would naturally influence our vision. I like things a little blurry, soft around the edges. I guess it’s the romantic in me.

Architectural montage art

A while back I posted an image of what I assume was an art installation beside a freeway on the way to the coast. It is a picture of a hotel that makes you double-take when you realise that it is undersized, too small to actually be a functioning hotel.

A friend mentioned that the image reminded him of the work of Belgian photographer Filip Dujardin.

The website Design Boom shows work he calls architectural montage art. They explain that...
"using photographs of a verity of building typologies, Dujardin laces them together to create non-existent, often impossible buildings. The building montages begin with a model in cardboard or computer model and then Dujardin seeks out suitable buildings. The results look like architecture gone wild, bizarre buildings from the past or futuristic creations by contemporary architects."

I really like these montages. I like the questions they raise about the external aesthetics of man made structures. But they also make you consider the manipulation of internal spaces. I wonder what it would be like to wander inside those buildings. Claustrophobic, confusing? Maybe exciting and intriguing? Possibly even comforting. I imagine it depends on the outside environment and whether it is something you want to escape from or escape to.

When I create vessels I am as aware of the space around the form as I am of the form itself. A vessel is, by definition, an object created for the purpose of containing something, so of course it's internal space is important. But I feel it's more than that. It's as if the materiality of an object gives the space around it meaning.

I have avoided closed forms for quite some time now. (The olive container was a challenge!) Not because I don't like making lids but because I feel intimidated by the presence of enclosed space.

I'm not quite sure what to make of this but it is definitely an area I want to explore soon.

Jewellery and Taxidermy

Ossuarium - a container or receptacle for holding the bones of the dead.

Yesterday I had the opportunity to experience the work of Julia deVille for the first time and I was truly mesmerised.

The pieces on display in her current exhibition at Craft Vic are beautiful. Despite signs warning of the presence of human remains and the possibility of offense, I felt in no way confronted by the works, merely swept away by their exquisite, glamorous details and the artist's obvious respect for the fragility and preciousness of life.

To let her explain in her own words...

"My jewellery is inspired by the memento mori jewellery of the fifteenth to eighteenth centuries and Victorian mourning jewellery. I find the acceptance of death in these periods fascinating. I work predominantly in jet, a petrified wood historically used in Victorian mourning jewellery, recycled components and taxidermy, designed to serve as memento mori, or reminder of our mortality. I use the symbols of death throughout my work because I think it is important to identify with the concept that we are in fact mortal creatures. The nature of our culture is to obsess over planning the future, however in doing so, we forget to enjoy the present.Through taxidermy I challenge my audience to reassess the way our society views the uses of animals for art and fashion. I use only creatures that have died of natural causes to accentuate this point." Julia deVille

Julia has a fantastic website and you can see more images of her work here too. But if you are anywhere near Melbourne in the near future then I really recommend you see her work "in the flesh"!

Julia deVille: Ossuarium is on at Craft Victoria until 29 November.