Mai Nguyen-Long Doba Nation
Dianne Jones The Beach
The clusters of ceramic forms that comprise Doba Nation are humorously defiant. Eyes bulge, mouths expel tongues and vomit, tiny Poo Balls are scattered throughout. Positioned on travel crates, repurposed as plinths, there is a sense of things being impermanent, unstable or on the move. This is a ramshackle chorus of rejected selves, claiming space and community. Mai Nguyen-Long's cylindrical forms are inspired by post-Vietnam War bomb shell casings that some residents of rural Vietnam have repurposed for practical use. Other disturbing connections to war have also found their way into her work – the striking orange of her Vomit Girl figures alludes to the notorious use of the defoliant Agent Orange by US forces. These characteristic figures seem
to be evolving into increasingly complex, rhythmic forms with holes, prongs and looping appendages jostling over the surface. Other slip painted forms appear to be in the process of transformation or disintegration. Tubular shapes reach out, holes searching like blind mouths or nostrils. At times complete faces are represented; their diversely stumpy, mutating shapes a reminder of Vomit Girl's genesis. There is a clear evolution here that suggests an eventual reunification of lost parts. This transformative aspect underpins
‘I became aware that it was difficult to find historical images of Aboriginal people just enjoying the beach by swimming, playing ball, sitting on the sand and enjoying the Western Australian sunshine. Iconic images of beach culture seemed to be only of white people enjoying the lifestyle. The power of seeing oneself represented culturally can have a positive effect or a negative one.’ – Dianne Jones Twenty-four years on from her 2001 series that marked the beginning of a burgeoning artistic career in the art of playful subversion, Dianne returns with her new work to multiply her presence. She is now joined by all the generations of her family. She takes over the entire beach scape. And that smile and wave has progressed to a full-blown Noongar beach party.
As her mother, brother, sister, nieces and nephews take over the sand and surf, intergenerational connections and the energy of this Noongar family are now filling the frame. Babies, teenagers, adults and Elders. The Australian pattern is exploded in a generative scene of play and what family looks like beyond Western isolationism of each generation, living apart and relegated to separate housing. This is significant in Australia given the direct attacks on Indigenous family as part of destroying culture. Excerpt from an essay by Dr Odette Kelada, Faculty of Arts, University of Melbourne Presented with Walyalup | Fremantle Arts Centre
a provocative complexity to Mai Nguyen-Long's work that is deeply compelling.
Lia McKnight , Curator
Presented with the John Curtin Gallery
Shupiwe Chongwe Bedforms
Kate Mitchell Idea Induction
bring those ideas into reality. While I can't do that last part for you, I felt it would be compelling to create an exhibition that offers this kind of service – an induction into the realm of your own ideas through my own. And so, I invite you to come and experience the singing chair – a chair you sit in while I strum its back. The sound reverberates through your body, surrounding you in resonant tones that shift the mind into those deep brainwave states where ideas and insights dwell. Allow the carpet of sound to transport you to the realm of ideas and trust you'll know a good one when you see it!
explanation for my African name that wouldn't require awkward responses to unwanted questions. This last month has been an exploration of clay, pottery and family. I've listened to my Ambuya share old stories of collecting clay from termite mounds for his grandmother. Alongside my father, I have watched the skilled hands of village potters moulding clay into sculpture and followed the slow rhythmic thwack of Mrs Mweemba's flip flops against hard earth as we journeyed to dig clay from a dry riverbed. Throughout this time, there have been many hours collecting, grinding and moulding clay myself, taking time to be still and reflect on the tradition I am continuing.
When I began developing a body of work for Fremantle Arts Centre, it dawned on me that the process of generating ideas could become the framework for the exhibition itself. That realisation was the spark for Idea Induction . The central question became: Where do ideas come from? From there, I began to make a series of conceptual responses that explore and respond to this inquiry. Ideas, both physically and energetically, emerge from the alpha and theta brainwave states – places of deep relaxation and heightened creativity. These states are home to insight, intuition, inner guidance, and what we often multitude of ways. To me, it's vital to connect deeply to our inner worlds, to engage with the ideas that matter most to us on a personal level, and then find ways to describe as “aha” moments. We access these states in a
I must be at least 30 percent clay by now. It clings to my skin, ingrains itself under fingernails, attaching to each inward breath. I pound the milky brown rock, dust swirling around me, smoke-like in the sunlight. I’ve learnt recently that the will to make pottery comes to some people whilst they sleep. The older potters tell us that through their dreams, they were compelled to work with clay. I think of being called through my subconscious in such a way, I can't imagine many stronger connections to the earth than that. I think of the other women in my family who have worked the earth before me … clay seeping into their pores, clinging to hair. Now I do the same, attempting to mirror their movements and bridge a gap that spans decades. The moist clay colours my skin a deep shade of brown, a shade that I used to long for it to be, an easy
Kate Mitchell
Presented with Walyalup | Fremantle Arts Centre
Shupiwe Chongwe Choma, Zambia, July 2024
Presented with Cool Change and PS Art Space
18
19
Made with FlippingBook interactive PDF creator