The Sea is Blue Again

The Sea is Blue Again

‘Okay, everyone strike the “album cover” pose’, calls Robyn, as she sets the camera timer and runs to join our band of travellers. All eight of us are in the middle of a long stone breakwater that juts perpendicular to the beach into the sea. We are gathered around a large painted sculpture. The day is warm, just a hint of wispy clouds, the water is calm and in the distance other small islands, part of what the Japanese call the Seto Inland Sea.

Checking the camera and about to set another shot she says ‘Hey! The shape of the sculpture mirrors the mountainous profile of the distant seascape’. We all turn and marvel, taking a break from our trying to look cool stances. It is a sculpture of an upturned boat, many sets of legs protrude as if carrying the boat along the breakwater, the tops of the figures are hidden inside the hull. The keel line is undulating, indeed, just like the shape of the distant mountains across the water. Given the position on the exposed breakwater and the tragedy of the 2011 tsunami one comprehends the implication in the title, ‘Walking Ark’, with degrees of both trepidation and sympathy. 1

We are suitably impressed. Our time in what Tim of our group and many others call ‘the art islands’ has been astonishing. Some 12 or so small inhabited islands over roughly a 100 sq kilometre area are part of a remarkable effort of social and economic transformation, with culture and its attracted tourism the vehicle for change. From the brink of collapse to healthy growing communities, the aims of the organization behind this initiative are farsighted and commendable.

The 2019 Setouchi Triennale is the fourth such festival that grows bigger and spreads to more islands with every iteration. We, along with a million other expected visitors over the Spring, Summer and Autumn sessions catch ferries to access the various islands, their ports and fishing villages. 2

Today we are on Ogijima, our sixth island of the week. Our very new looking, bright red ferry was sold out, not only Japanese but also many international visitors. Hong Kong, Taiwan, China, and Korea in particular are relatively close. We arrive at the tiny fishing village of Ogicho, population less than 200, tucked into the lee of a tall mountain. Small fishing boats bob protected around the quay that leads to narrow pedestrian only streets, maze like, rising steeply. Homes clustered close together look out over the small port. 

We walk along exploring the village, its old weathered exterior full of the patinas from sun, salt, and wind. Maps detail various places of interest scattered throughout the village, many in buildings like old homes, shops and warehouses that for one reason or another have been empty or abandoned. With declining population land and buildings become difficult if not impossible to sell. Over years and decades this has led to demise and ruin, not only of the physical but as well, the fabric of the community. As part of the cultural initiative, artists have been invited to make proposals to create artworks - creative interventions might be a better way to describe the outcomes. The artists start by visiting and engaging with the local people. Issues to do with site, acquisition, ownership, and longevity are managed by an island community association. Visitors contribute by purchasing a passport that gives access to all the venues. 

A quiet village in normal circumstances, now there are short waits to see inside some attractions. The ‘Sea Vine’ house was once a small traditional timber home; tatami mat floor with shoji timber and paper sliding walls. Now devoid of furniture and fittings, the house has become a beautiful evocative meditation. Delicate white to pale pink porcelain flowers on long stems appear to float their way through the small interconnected rooms towards you as you sit on the floor. As if blown by the wind, flowers and vines appear to hover horizontally as sea air sweeps over you from a large window open to the water below. 3

Nearby is a very small empty home where the inconsequential objects that might have once been part of daily life, pots, pans, brushes, knives, forks, electric fans, vacuum cleaner, toothbrushes; whether metal or plastic, have been attached to kinetic armatures that whirr slowly around looking like long horizontal or vertical totems. They gyrate noisily and remind us all of the accumulated stuff filling cupboards and understories in our own homes. The tiny spaces and low ceilings uncomfortably filled with the sculptures, a deliberate incongruence, a finger pointing to the excesses of consumption and obsolescence. 4

These coastal port communities are remote by virtue of requiring a sea journey to the mainland, some 30 minutes by ferry. Previous generations were able to prosper by fishing, seaweed production, and small-scale agriculture. The 20^thcentury, particularly post World War II, ushered in a push for economic growth. Reckless industrialization of the nearby mainland and other larger islands caused widespread environmental destruction; pollution of air and sea, illegal industrial waste dumps, and vegetation die-back. Fish and octopus stocks were effectively poisoned, seaweed beds wiped out, the people themselves suffered adverse health effects. No wonder that by the end of the century the population had significantly declined as the means to survive was rendered futile. 

The art festival’s ideals and values have endeavoured to rejuvenate and transform the different island communities by creating economic stimulus and employment. More than that in fact, contemporary art with an emphasis on mutual respect and openness, has inclusively engaged the communities, seeking to revive and develop the unique qualities of each island. Organizing committees consult widely with the various communities. This underlies the success of these ventures; the local residents have both a say and contribution to make. Artists are often considered based on the potential significance of the community exchange and outcome. 

What was once a small abandoned warehouse appears dark on entering, and then as you turn a corner, a gigantic chandelier lights and fills the room. Thousands of small glass bottles hang in clusters each with a tiny light and old photographs sequestered inside. Portraits, weddings, kids playing and family gatherings, the ordinary and everyday are illuminated with privilege. Some bottles have just a single photo, others small photo collections, even keepsakes, and talismans, all gifted from the albums and archives of local residents – their stories and memories. 5

We pass a large mainland school group all in their neat blue uniforms and bright white caps. We had enjoyed their banter and laughs practicing their English on us coming over on the ferry, chatty and friendly young teenagers. They have just visited the artwork at the local elementary school; a work using blue tiles on the exterior of the recently renovated school, a poetic response to the commanding presence of the surrounding sea according to the artist. The irony is not lost on us. Since the start of the Triennale in 2010, the island has had an increasing number of young families relocate to the island; enough to justify having the school and kindergarten reopen after many years of closure. 6

Walking along past stonewalls topped with photo worthy weathered timber and sheet metal, we come across a pop-up coffee house. An enterprising local has turned their living room into a café, serving drinks and a freshly baked red bean cake. In a sense, we have been invited into someone's home and we are graciously welcomed. This is a common attribute across Japan, friendly, polite and very pleased to see you. As we sit cross-legged (or try!) at a low table we chat and browse a selection of books left for our enjoyment. A book on island homes informs us that the blackened appearance of exterior timber, as just witnessed, is actually a technique of charring to prevent timber rotting in the damp sea air. 

As we walk further, winding higher and higher through thin passageways, the dominant colours are all earthy, brown, grey, charcoal, rust. By contrast, up ahead we notice what looks like large external abstract paintings. They are in fact timbers salvaged from boats, joined together vertically and attached to the building as a second skin, one that resembles slices of scenery as one might look down to the port and out across the sea to distant islands. 7

As I stop to admire a small backyard vegetable garden I am almost fooled. As a keen vegetable grower myself I look to see what and how; spring onions in a long raised pyramid shape mound of soil, beans and cucumbers climbing up bamboo teepees, green vegetables under shade cloth to keep out white moths. I take my camera out to capture a record when I notice two small very elderly ladies crouching low to the ground, pulling out last summers’ dried plants. Dressed from head to finger and toe for sun protection in odd bits of clothing that just happens to be the same colour as the soil and plants. Perfectly camouflaged. They look up, a little surprised like me. Their faces, the only part of them not covered are lined with many stories. ‘Konichiwa’ I say with a nod. ‘Konichiwa’ they reply. 

I just wish I could communicate further with them, to hear their tales of island life, particularly their early years. I’d like to be able to express gratitude for our chance to experience some of their world. How do the local people feel about visitors compromising their privacy? Most times they would know everyone in the village, now there are enough visitors to easily double the population each day. It must register to some as an imposition, although I’ve noted how the organizers do manage numbers be it the size and frequency of ferries or timed entry to some of the well known sites on Naoshima and Teshima islands for example. 

I catch up with our group. Russell, mindful of the time, suggests we start to make our way towards the port. Down steep paths and stairs, there is time to venture into one more exhibit. We don't have a clue what might be inside… another darkened space, seemingly minimal with walls made from large tile like sections with a sensuous smooth black surface. Randomly there are small indents that reveal layers going back through colours to white, a subtle progression. Incredibly they are made of lacquer, one of the many centuries old craft practices throughout Japan. A difficult and time consuming process, layer upon layer of lacquer has been built up, then circular incisions carved away to create a ‘stars in the cosmos' effect. Traditional lacquer is less used than in times past so this house is an attempt to champion its contemporary possibilities particularly as it is an eco-responsible product. Occupying part of the artist’s own home in which he was born and raised, he has returned to the island and collaborated with other artists and students to complete the immense work.  8

The magnificent ferry terminal, designed by the artist Jaume Plensa, is our gathering point for the return ferry. A curved circular lace like white roof sits atop a glass walled waiting room. The eaves project out over pools of water. The lace design is actually abstracted shapes made from the letters of different languages; the sun casts shadows down onto the water and walking paths. 9

We sit under its shade, with this cultural diversity projected over us eating fish and rice with chopsticks from plastic dishes, purchased nearby from a local, selling off a fold-up table on the edge of the footpath. We had all been looking forward to this meal as we had passed the lady when we first arrived, firing up her barbecue grill and salting whole snapper fresh from the sea. Delicious, it was and well worth the wait!

The question is which was everyone’s favourite work? … The almost unanimous answer is Akinori Matsumoto. A playful installation set in a tiny but beautiful traditional old home, one that captivates architects and carpenters unable to stop looking up at the roof spaces. Large hand-hewn round timbers crisscross the space, joined with dowel and precise mortise and tenon; infill walls are a wattle and daub earthen finish. The home resonates with the histories of those who once lived here. 

Matsumoto has constructed small delicate contraptions out of bamboo and paper, some with sails like small windmills. They conceal small motors and in turn move, 

rotate or sway, some with sound; strong light sources create shadow plays on the walls. Only two or three people can fit inside at the same time so it is an intimate experience, you are up close as you climb narrow stairs poking your head up and around to view.  I sit and watch one that resembles a pan-pipe, thin bamboo cylinders of different lengths rotate slowly, an air supply blows across them producing soft changing tones. 10

On the ferry, the late afternoon sun reflects the jewel like nature of the vast stretch of water and the numerous islands. Jo hands each of us a small container, a local delicacy; ‘seaweed jelly', a subtly sweet treat she found for sale from an unmarked door, down an alley, one of those ‘what are they queuing for?’ irresistible travel moments. The sweetness comes from small amounts of fermented rice. ‘Thanks Jo, Yum!’

There is time to reflect, ‘the art islands’ are such an inspiration. Apart from just sensual and cerebral entertainment, we have seen and learnt so much about the various islands and their small villages. Yes, the art has been impressive, but so too has been the exposure to the cultures of the different islands, their history, food, and hospitality. Something about the experience makes us visitors feel sanguine and valued, that we are a small part of contemporary life making a difference. The potential is writ large for art to continue making such a positive contribution to the islands. 

The world is coming to bear witness.

Notes

1          ‘Walking Ark’ by Keisuke Yamaguchi, Japan

2          https://setouchi-artfest.jp/en/

3          ‘Sea Vine’ by Haruki Takahashi, Japan

4          ‘Rotation-Revolution’ by Lin Tianmiao, China

5          ‘Memory Bottle’ by Mayumi Kuri, Japan

6          ‘Dreaming of Blue’ by Regina Silveira, Brazil

7          ‘Wallalley’ by Rikugi Makabe, Japan

8          ‘Maison de Urushi’ by Hayato Otami, Ogijima, Japan

9          ‘Ogijima’s Soul’ by Jaume Plensa, Spain 

10        ‘Akinorium’ by Akinori Matsumoto, Japan

Reference

Muller, L. & Miki, A., Editors. ‘INSULAR INSIGHT – Where Art and Architecture Conspire with Nature. Naoshima, Teshima, Inujima. Lars Muller Publishers and Fukutake Foundation. 2011

Scott Avery  

2019

Artwall 2014

 

 

Michael McCosker



'Michael McCosker: Paintings' at The Box

Last Saturday afternoon I had the pleasure of visiting The Box, a venue that opened in West End last year.

From their website:

The Box is an artist-run initiative providing the West End and greater Brisbane community with dynamic events of all varieties. The space is versatile and adaptable and plays host to live music, workshops, exhibitions, launches, music rehearsals, cultural events and a plethora of other projects.

The Box has an indoor gallery space, featuring a Steinway D grand piano, and a backyard equipped with a stage for many varieties of performance.

The nine creatives behind the initiative have complementary skills, and together work to showcase the best Brisbane has to offer. Feel free to contact any of us if you wish to propose a concept for an event, or chat about a project. We’re very open to collaborating with you, to help materialise your creative vision.

http://theboxwestend.com/about/ (retrieved May 13 2013)

I have been to The Box for a few different exhibitions and events and I am struck by the diversity of the exhibitions held there, as well as the diversity of the crowd it attracts. I do feel a genuine sense of community and openness exists within the place.

Saturday's exhibition viewing was of 'Michael McCosker: Paintings'. Michael is an acquaintance of mine and my house features in one the paintings in the exhibition. We both remembered running into each other at the top of my street months ago as he was taking photos of the sunset street scape to paint from.

Michael was at the gallery for each day of his ten day exhibition, which fostered an authentic feeling to the exhibition, and on Saturday he was working on a painting in the gallery, which was quite interesting to watch.

Paintings by Michael McCosker had its genesis in his almost daily walks up to the lookout on Highgate Hill. Over the past four years living on Dorchester Street, his attention was consistently drawn to Emily Street off Gladstone Road. He imagined that if he ever painted again, he’d paint this street. It haunted him. He imagined Highgate hill back in the 60s and 70s long before it was considered prime real estate. As so often happens with his process the concept only became apparent once started.

theboxwestend.com (Retrieved May 13 2013)

I like the above blurb and the ghosts it alludes to. I took my mother and my sister to the exhibition as I presumed (correctly) that the paintings were ‘art Mum would like’.

‘Sunset Over Emily Street’ displays an incredible three dimensional quality. The very accurate sense of perspective makes you feel like you are walking down the footpath, about to tread on the fallen flowers that are leaping out of the painting; and stepping straight into the sun. The way the paint has been worked really creates a glow.

I appreciate the technical proficiency  - especially as I have recently developed an understanding and appreciation of oil paint and how to work it – of paintings like Michael’s; but I do have a tendency to often stereotype this kind of work as ‘technically proficient lifelike representations of everyday subjects’. And it results in ennui!

That is why I enjoyed reading the well worn artist’s statement Michael presented to us at the gallery, and even the short blurb from The Box website.

I think the aforementioned interpretation of art is holier-than-thou. Sometimes it comes from a self-consciousness about my own art and my awareness of its lack of, disregard for, or plain absence, often, of realism and the way most of us have been socialised to notice the fact and not the feeling. And sometimes this interpretation comes from the feeling, or lack of feeling I might get from looking at some art. Realism alone does not leave an imprint on me. Delving into the concept helps me connect with the work more deeply and remember that there are things in the work I do not know and cannot see or being to imagine. And that makes it much richer to me than a lifelike postcard interpretation.

The Box website describes Michael’s paintings as whimsical – which helped me look at them in a different light as well, and look at them as about light. And maybe light as a metaphor for creation after darkness (in a personal sense, not a biblical one) which I read in to Michael pondering ‘if he will ever paint again.’

I also recognise, through writing this report, that representing local scenes in art is very important. I got a thrill from seeing my house in one of Michael’s paintings, and one must acknowledge that the quotidian aspect of life is a large part of it. This is real life – it is not set in Andy Warhol's Factory, and I don't care much for most of that art anyway. Michael sold each and every painting which only goes to show that people love and appreciate to see their own surroundings represented in art. And that in itself is fulfilling.

by Felicity Scarce

Gregory Crewdson

In a Lonely Place

Institute of Modern Art, Fortitude Valley

Gregory Crewdson is an American photographer known for his large-scale works depicting a surreal and staged Middle America.

“In all my pictures what I am ultimately interested in is that moment of transcendence, where one is transported to another place, into a perfect still world”  Gregory Crewdson, Artist statement.

Crewdson is described by some as being preoccupied with human alienation and his work has been compared to that of famous American painter Edward Hopper and filmmaker David Lynch.

In a Lonely place is being shown at the Judith Wright centre, Institute of modern art, in Fortitude valley. The exhibit consists of three main bodies of work; Fireflies, Beneath the Roses and Sanctuary. The layout of the gallery is clean and modern with at least 12’ high ceilings, which are left bare with light fixtures, pipes and vents, exposed. The stark white walls envelope the works in sections, which flow easily into each other. A sealed concrete floor shares a comfortable contrast with the large and ominous photographs above it.

Fireflies (1996) is a series of 13 similar sized framed photographs of twilight landscapes spotted with the incandescence of fireflies. The photographs share one wall on which they are hung in a group unaligned. This gave the effect of insects piloting through the night flittering here and there. The dark black silhouettes of the buildings and trees pitted against a greying evening sky are speckled with the shimmering white fireflies in wonderful contrast.

Beneath the roses (2003-8) is a grand array of dramatically large photographs spanning two huge rooms. This series depicts incredibly detailed scenes of a dark and lonely nature. Crewdsons interest in human alienation can be seen right away. An old warehouse on fire is watched by half nude youths who seem sad in their expressions but apathetic in their movement. Blankets of fog roll up wide and almost deserted streets. The inhabitants seem timid as if not wanting to be seen. There are very distinct themes shared picture to picture. Unwanted pregnancies, poor life choices, missing persons and alcoholism. Hotel rooms being used for one-night stands are bland and lifeless except for their guests who stand bemused at their own displeasures. The viewer begins to feel very sure they are an uninvited stranger. Hints that something is awry cross the mind, perhaps a looming apocalypse or a post apocalyptic fallout adorned with the remnants of a diminishing human existence.

Sanctuary (2009), another series of photographs larger than fireflies but still far smaller than beneath the roses. These pictures encompass a single room very much aligned and related almost like snapshots on a roll of film. They depict disused and disintegrating outdoor film studios in Rome Italy. They are in black & white but more softly grey than fireflies. Ruins of a far-gone era emanate loneliness from within. Concrete crumbles and wood rots and not a person is seen who could if alive care. There is hope yet in these dark pictures it seems the world has forgotten its human plague and will reclaim itself in the end.

Crewdsons was a great exhibition to encounter. In a lonely place captivates and stimulates.

Christian Cusack

Kristin Headlam

The Blue Square

Heiser Gallery, Fortitude Valley

The Heiser Gallery is a small simple space in Fortitude Valley, from the

outside you may walk past without realising its a small gallery, wide enough

for a ingle painting in its window, and on a side street in the busy valley.

Concrete floors and natural feeling lighting make for a ideal location to show

any art form. The space is long and narrow yet spacious enough to stand

back and appreciate the paintings within. Ideal for individual exhibitions.

Director Bruce Heiser deals with leading Australian artists from 1920

onwards.

The artist currently on exhibition is the Tasmanian born Melbourne based

artist Kristin Headlam. I really enjoyed viewing her current paintings. More

than half of the 20 paintings were a study on the changing outlook onto her

back yard, which she paints from her studio, and the remainder were

paintings of objects from her yard.

The paintings although of the same simple space are so varied, they evoke a

different mood in each one. The seasons are clearly represented as are the

different times of day, they capture beautifully the light and shadow. The same

tree as it goes through the cycles, the small things that happen in the yard, for

example a bird in the tree, washing on the line, the wheel borough and plastic

green garden chairs that move around. The building of a house in the next

block makes for a changing view, from timber to pink undercoat to the

finished result. Simple things beautifully painted in oil, or in water colour

gouache on paper. There are also smaller works such as birds and flower

pots from her garden. One is an ink painting of a bird.

The technique in oils is quite loose and I would describe it as realism with an

impressionistic brush style. The white of the canvas left in some blank

instances to create white space. Many greens blues greys and browns

depending on the season, the use of less variety of colour seems to create

more impact to me, beautiful natural light captured in the paintings. The blue

wall features in most of the yard paintings, as the title of the exhibition "The

Blue Square" suggests. It seems the exhibition is a year in the life of a typical

Melbourne back yard. Lots changes in the paintings yet a lot also remains the

same.

I love that the subject is something we may overlook, if we were to explore

the yard I don't think it would occur to many to capture it in all it's season and

the simple beauty that changing daylight creates, and to paint that process.

Yet as an artist this is her constant view (so i believe) so it seems only fitting

for it to be painted. On looking at her other works I see Headlow captures

everyday life in simple moments, I really love her choice of subjects. I think

they would resonate with many Australians. Her other paintings are of
ordinary life and people.

Jennifer Padgett

'Open closed'

QUT  Art Museum

‘Open closed’ is one of two art exhibitions currently being displayed at the QUT Art Museum.  It showcases the works of three Queensland artists; Lincoln Austin, Sean Phillips and Arryn Snowball.  The first introduction to this show is a blurb written on the wall in large font that reads:

 “Lincoln Austin, Sean Phillips and Arry Snowball are three Queensland artists working in different media, but with a shared sensibility.  Their work presents the viewer with objects or atmospheres for contemplation – repeating modes, shifting visual motifs, words and phrases.  Open closed presents the work of these three artists together for the first time, exploring their parallel concerns and inspirations.”

Based on this description of the show I felt it was my job as a viewer to find parallels and similarities between the artworks.  Whist walking around this seemingly small space I came across many vastly different and yet coherent art works made from a wide variety of materials.  They all share a common aesthetic that appear to be inspired by minimalism, where simple and few elements are used to create a maximum effect. Minimalism is rooted in the reductive aspects of Modernism and is often interpreted as a reaction against Abstract Expressionism. 

My immediate response to the show was that the works all share a cool anonymity.

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minimalism, Retrieved 10 October, 2012)

Arryn Snowball, “Ashes and Diamonds”, Oil on Linen

Arryn Snowball’s work “Ashes and Diamonds”, is a large scale oil painting on linen.  This work, like the majority of pieces in the show, is restricted to black and white.  Snowball uses very subtle shifts in tone to create layers of transparent white that appear soft and carefully rendered.  I am reminded here of Mark Rothkos’ signature motif of soft, rectangular forms floating on a stained field of color.

Positioned next to Snowballs’ painting was Lincoln Austins’ “Untitled” sculpture.  At first take I couldn’t understand what a clean edged black and white oil painting had in common with a strong, geometric sculpture made from steel and wood.

Looking at these two pieces together I realised they both appear to be ever so slightly moving.  The white layers in the painting appear to move gently backwards and forwards and the sculpture, specifically on close inspection, looks like it faintly pulses as the eye travels across the pieces of steel.  Similarly, the minimalist artists’ created objects characterised by unitary, geometric forms and industrial materials.

Lincoln Austin, “Untitled”, stainless steel and wood. (Detail).

The suggestion that movement, or rather the illusion of movement, as another parallel idea between these works becomes more clearly illustrated by Arryn Snowball’s work “Slow Dance (Sticks and Shadows)”.  This work is a video art piece made up of very simple, geometric shapes and the strong contrast of black and white.  Video art obviously incorporates the use of a moving image, however, I feel as though this work is self-referential in that it is a moving image about movement itself.  We are denied colour and any recognisable form and yet we are provided with a slowly moving minimalist abstraction as shapes spin and twist in white space.

Arryn Snowball  “Slow Dance (Sticks and Shadows)” [Video Still]

The works discussed hereunder maintain a distinctly Minimalist aesthetic. However, it would appear that the artists in ‘Open closed’ also have their roots in the Dadaist Constructionist movement of the 1910s.  Where artists were interested in making art that depends on movement for its affects.  Such artists were motivated by the doctrine that just as they could compose form and colour they could compose movement. 

(http://www.theartstory.org/, retrieved 10 October, 2012).

Michelle Eskola

Monica Rohan

SGAR Gallery - Spring Hill

Drowning 2012
Watercolour on paper

Monica Rohan : Inside Out.

After looking at the Gallery websites from the task sheet list, I was drawn to this exhibition held at SCAR.(Spiro/Grace Art Rooms) titled 'Inside Out' by Monica Rohan. I read that ''The Artworks are derived from staged photos of herself reacting to her environment, in situations she depicts are mundane,yet they are made to seem strange and ominous''(1) The subject matter interested me as well as how intricately beautiful these paintings appeared. I was keen to go and have a look!

(1)Exhibition program, SGAR website http/www.sgar.com.au

Walking up Gregory Tce I looked out for SGAR signage or its street number, which ever came first and reaching the high three hundred numbers I realised I must have walked right past..I head back a short way and there it was the ''blink and you will miss this ever so small sign'' on the front gate, of which I now felt like being a little tentative about opening-wondering if they really wanted visitors? Once opened a stark white colonial cottage was revealed. There was no further signs or advertising anywhere -all very discreet. So I walked across the patio to the open front door and picked up a Bio and catalogue from the shelf in the porch. I was welcomed by one of the directors who informed about the Art Room being all about promoting up and coming Queensland Artists and helping them gain a step into the larger galleries. She mentioned that Rohan ''Graduated from Queensland College of Art in 2010 and received a Bachelor of Fine Art with Honours in 2011'' And that she has had a very positive response to this exhibition''.

I glanced around the front room. Everything apart from the floor was painted white. Whilst enhancing the patterns and colours of the paintings, I couldn't help feeling distracted by the starkness. In my opinion the atmosphere was clinical, for such a cute cottage this didn't echo charm it deserved . Catching my attention were a group of about twenty 7x7cm watercolours on paper held in place by magnets,above the fireplace. They were above eye level and being so small quite difficult to absorb the detail. I could see they depicted images of the artist herself in routine surroundings,doing routine things- such as pulling up socks. I looked across to the larger paintings all of which were placed around the walls,without text or information just held in place by magnets, commanding their own space-I note the amount of red dots! Most have been sold!

I look across to the painting I recognise from the website. It is titled ''Drowning''. Here the artist is swathed in laundry of delicate yet detailed patterns and texture,placed centrally in the picture with blank negative space. It is boundary free, giving a floating feel. You wonder is she ''Drowning''as the title suggests in her chore of laundry,or just wrapped in the comfort of warm fabric ,and dreaming? Dangling attracts my attention too. It is also a watercolour of a scene looking upwards through tree branches with the artist loosely draped around the trunk half way up the tree. There is movement and rhythm about this painting, yet, it is as if time is standing still..no going up, no coming down. She is just where she wants to be.

I enjoyed the way in which Rohan has explored routine situations and in my opinion, transformed them into beautiful and whimsical artworks. I will be visiting her next exhibition!

Sally Blyth