MICROCOSM
I was again late.
I had to clean the paint off our carpet that I brought in from the studio and ended up on the wrong tram going the opposite way to Print Maker. On my PTV journey there, I watched closely a man sitting opposite me on the tram eating Smith chips but they were Sausage flavour… he was smiling at me whilst eating the chips. I found it so odd but hilarious because he knew he was eating weirdo chips, and he wanted me to know that, I think. I don’t know.
My phone was on 35% charge and I had dinner plans after the exhibition but that didn’t stop me from listening to music during the commute. I think I touched on this in an earlier blog but listening to music on public transport I put so highly on my favourite to-do list. I place it so highly because it makes a normal commute into a movie, similar to when actors in a movie walk/commute between destinations and a theme song starts playing, I felt like Jake Gyllenhaal in Demolition. For the first half of the journey, I was listening to the song ‘Ajai Finale’ by artist Kenny Segal. I played it nine times and still couldn’t understand the storyline/narrative described in the lyrics but it made me kind of feel like it was my own little theme song in my head.
To put it into perspective, a Seinfeld Episode lasts around 24 minutes. I listened for 33 minutes to Kenny’s song, non-stop and I still couldn’t understand the story. Fully wiggin it.
Although I was late, I wasn’t going in blind and I’d done my research, however, the space was new to me and I’d imagined a drastically different room (totally judged by the name of the gallery).
‘Print Maker Gallery,’ I’d instantly thought of concrete, Industrial, open floorplan with a lot of dead space and white noise. I was wrong (never usually am), the gallery was small and homely. So different to my ignorant expectations I actually couldn’t find it. I exited the tram looking down at my phone with maps saying I’d arrived, and after looking like a blind dummy frozen in time, I realised I was standing in the doorway to the space. Carpet floors filled the room (thank God honestly because I chose clickety-clack heel loafers that would cause such annoyance skipping around the exhibition) and a crowd of around 20-25 visitors, all of whom seemed friends of Fiona. The crowd was older than I thought (I didn’t ID check them, but I’d say around 50 – 60 range) and I stood out like a good-looking sore thumb. I was instantly being scoped out on entry, as if the room went silent but like not in an intimidating way. Like I said, the show was small and I was probably the only person there who wasn’t friends or family, well… me and Barbera. Staring at one of the small works, a nice lady, Barbera, stood shoulder to shoulder with me. “Lovely isn’t it” she started. I had a great chat with her as she told me all about her creative practice of card-making and her 22-year-old daughter who sleeps with a Harry Styles/One Direction eye mask. Birthdays, Marriages, Graduations, divorces, you name it, Barbera had a homemade card for it and I was getting envious (16th December if you’re reading Barb). She was fitting right in, a good-looking thumb that didn’t stick out 😉 she was dressed in a fairy floss textured coat and bright frames (typical cool older lady swag). It’s interactions like these that I enjoy. We were analysing the works in front of us, touching on the elements of the ocean life recognisable within the frame, trying to decipher the species of fish each one reminded us of. I asked questions, she asked questions, and once she asked about my practice and my relevance in being there that night, I’d gained not only an Instagram follower but also another blog reader to add to the already existing couple thousand.
Fiona Murphy is an Australian Artist known for her mixed media artworks built from layering of paper and images overlaying moulding clays for a three-dimensional look. I see the works as sculptures placed behind glass and framed to be hung next to paintings. She has an impressive career having exhibited both in Australia and internationally, notably in the US, Italy, Germany and Japan. Familiar with Australia’s favourite organisations such as the National Gallery of Victoria, MADA, Flinders Lane Gallery and the Hatch Contemporary Arts Space, it’s fair to say she’s somewhat recognisable within the Australian arts scene. Along with her impressive run of exhibitions, 27 solo shows in total, she too has accolades that include the City of Hobart art prize in 2005, Yering Sculpture Award in 2004, Multiple Myer Ceramic Awards and bronze commissions; Reclaimed (2003), Bud (2004) and Spiral (1999).
She states her inspiration comes from the natural environment of the ocean, in particular the reef and water ecosystems. Describing the motion of the water, tidal movements and colours of colourful Australian reefs, Murphy often reflects on her close observations of these habitats through her sculptural works, mimicking the flow of the tide and environmental transformations. A “kaleidoscope of layering” she quotes, her works on display at PG evoke the rhythms and dynamics of the ocean, capturing similar textures, colours and shapes the ocean breeds. The essence of coral is reflected through her repeated groves and patterns along with vibrant colours layered describing the sea life found in these spots. She invites viewers to reflect on these diverse environments and the interconnection between the land and life.
20 works filled the small space. The title of the show, Microcosm details a place that encapsulates certain characteristics of something much larger than presented and helps understand the aesthetic Fiona Murphy was striving to portray. The flow of works hung was sporadic in a sense, smaller works hung tightly together, and larger works spread out. Three works in a cabinet facing up forcing us viewers to bend or crouch down to see inside reminded me of a fish tank, which was so fitting to the idea of capturing ocean fauna/flora in her art. I could say the orientation of the works displayed, and the ‘sporadic’ hang I mentioned, could refer to the irregular motion or patterns of waves rolling in the ocean, but honestly just think I’m looking too deep into it… Ocean joke. Laugh.
Barbera was long gone talking to me and I was so thankful my friend came and met me towards the end of my visit. We did some more loops of the space, wines in hand and had a lovely chat with Fi, one of the owners of the space. Kind of interrupting our very important and deep discussion over the type of wine we were drinking and whether it was giving nodes of sardines or plums, Fi also asked about the relevance of visiting tonight and boom! Another blog follower. We had a great chat talking about the history of the gallery, and whether or not prints were actually made at Print Maker Gallery and ended up getting our photo taken by Fi (watch for the PG Insta post). Jokes aside, getting to know Fi was such a pleasure. I urge those reading who have not yet taken the trip down to Brunswick Street and visited the almost 50-year-old space to go and catch the rest of Fiona’s showing. There was a great catalogue built for those not keen on going (I’ll attach the link) however I’ll be back for the next exhibition in two Tuesday’s time for Kim Barter’s exhibition, Aunties.
The exhibition had a $5 donation for drinks which I wasn’t mad about considering beers at No Vacancy Gallery for RhysJohnKaye’s show a couple of months back were like $11. I still have nightmares of it. The beers, not his show…
I was having some sort of summery ale that I didn’t necessarily love or hate, but what I didn’t like was the temperature of the beer. It was literally borderline frozen and I had to keep putting it down on the floor as it was simply too cold to hold. Ice was actually like forming around the can, so not only was I a stranger to everybody there, but I was a stranger who stood over his beer after every sip looking like some weird protector of his alcohol.
Anyway, freeing my hands allowed me to sketch the space so here’s that…
