Showing posts with label Photo Access. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Photo Access. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 29, 2026

Canberra Contemporary Photographic Prize 2026

Visual Art Exhibition Review | Brian Rope

Canberra Contemporary Photographic Prize 2026 I Various Artists

Photo Access I 16 July – 15 August 2026

The Canberra Contemporary Photographic Prize is an annual competition event conducted by Photo Access which results in an exhibition celebrating both emerging and established talents in photo media. Open to photographers worldwide, regardless of experience level, it showcases new perspectives in contemporary photography, offering a kaleidoscopic view of photographic art.

Forty finalists’ artworks are on display. The winning piece this year is 엄마의 초상화 (Portrait of My Mother), 2026 by Estelle Yoon. At the opening, after this was announced, I was one of many people who went in to check it out and overheard several of them querying how it could possibly be a portrait of the artist’s mother - given that there was no physical person in the image. Rather it is a photograph of an empty chair at the edge of an otherwise empty structure overlooking a frozen lake with part of a bridge in the background. So the questions in the viewers minds were fair enough.

Estelle Yoon - 엄마의 초상화 (Portrait of My Mother), 2026, glass, 35mm photograph, 43 x 28 cm
(image courtesy photo access)

However, referral to the artist’s statement answers everything. The location is the artist’s late mother’s childhood home. She imagined her mother sitting there. The print is on glass, thus mirroring the fragile nature of our memories. The portrait attempts to hold on to what is gone. So, in my view, this artwork is a worthy choice by the judges.

There are, inevitably, numerous other works that might be selected as the best by different viewers. But that’s the way it always is with competitions. From the forty works selected as finalists, I felt that a large number of them would have been serious contenders and I’m glad I didn’t have to make the choice. I don’t have room to discuss all of them, but here are my comments about a small selection of the others.

Lisa Jayne Cramer’s work is also about a mother, but a very different one. Hidden Mother I-III, 2026 is a triptych which tells a powerful story about the artist’s desire to be a mother which never eventuated despite years of persistence. Her dream, her hoped for role as a mother, sadly evaporated leaving her to grieve, to let go, to care for herself rather than the child she wanted. As a person who adopted children because we couldn’t produce our own, this work spoke loudly to me.

Lisa Jayne Cramer - Hidden Mother I-III, 2026, archival pigment print, 41.2 × 97.6 cm
(image courtesy photo access)

Danica Chappell’s Kaleidoscope series, 2025 is another delightful triptych. I think this is the first time I have seen an albumen work that is hand-coloured on vintage typewriter paper. I love the fact that the artist has flouted the long-held “rule” that light-sensitive paper or film should never be touched. That was drummed into my head years ago, along with the need to ensure our workspaces in darkrooms and water used in processing were all clean. Experimentation is how, as artists, people learn and develop new skills – and produce this type of most interesting work.

Danica Chappell - Kaleidoscope series, 2025, albumen,
hand coloured on vintage typewriter paper, 41.5 x 97.8 cm

(image courtesy photo access)

It is partly for the same reason that I enjoyed Resurfacing Roots, 2025 by Anna Kiparis. She used Maribyrnong River mud water to submerge her analogue film photographs of the landscape to mirror and commemorate the impacts of the 2022 Maribyrnong River flood. The resultant artwork shown in this exhibition speaks clearly to us.

Anna Kiparis - Resurfacing Roots, 2025, Maribyrnong River mud water,
pigment ink on cotton rag, 80 x 55 cm

(image courtesy photo access)

Josh Hughes has produced a most interesting video work titled How do you move?, 2026. It focusses exclusively on isolated body parts (the hands, feet, and mouth). It pushes and pulls, pitting ‘opposing actions’ against each other and revealing a grey area in between. It is well worth spending 4 minutes 38 seconds to view and listen to it all.

Josh Hughes - How do you move?, 2026, single-channel digital video, sound, 00:04:38
installation dimensions variable

(image courtesy photo access)

The final artwork I will specifically mention is Together/Apart, 2025 by Ryan Dandelion. It is simply a contact silver gelatin print of a dry glass plate negative which cracked as he removed it from the holder to tray develop. The crack passed through the stone of a ring upon a pair of crossed hands. That simple mishap spoke to the artist, saying “Together yet forever apart.”

Ryan Dandelion - Together/Apart, 2025, silver gelatin print, 25.4 x 20.3 cm
(image courtesy photo access)

There is so much of interest amongst the forty works on display. The exhibition is well worth a visit, but if you are not able to get there you can (at the time of my writing this) see all the actual works (not installation views of them) and read the artist statements here.

This review is also available on the author's blog.









Thursday, June 18, 2026

VIEW2026

XinShuo Zhuo, Among the Interstices, installation view, 2026.

Image: Gabrielle Hall-Lomax
 

As always when walking into this gallery, the works to the left are the first that visitors see. In this exhibition they are those of XinShuo Zhuo. The large cascading calligraphy scroll is the very successful feature piece amongst numerous small, distressed and toned prints decorating the surrounding wall spaces. The artist is seeking to explore the relationship between images, memory and environment. It draws on Zhuo’s personal life journey so far and encourages us to wonder about the future. Essayist Kung suggests this body of work awakens a tenderness, a fragility, creating an inward expanse that makes room for feeling.

Moving into the space to the right of the entrance, there are works by three more of the artists. On the left Dylan Marriott shows us two pieces from a forthcoming solo show he is to have in Melbourne. One shows youths we are barely able to see lounging along a river’s edge. It is an impressive and powerful work. This artist has said he is jealous of painting’s freedom of expression, yet here he has shown today’s photographers can also be similarly free.

Dylan Marriott, Wake, installation view, 2026.

Image courtesy the artist.

On the long opposite wall and the small end wall of this space there are fourteen pieces by Cass Li. The sole artwork on the end wall is vibrantly coloured capturing attention immediately, so much so that I examined it first before turning back to the other images by Li. Each piece looks at a different aspect of the last days of her grandfather’s life and the mourning period that followed. This documentary series is, for me, the highlight of the exhibition. Initially concluding that Together, There’s No Need to Cry, Li has most successfully pulled together how different generations of her family have dealt with their grief, whilst also tracing the family’s migration journey. Taoist rites, Chinese Timorese ancestry, belongings left behind, and much more are all part of this wonderfully creative and moving, yet documentary, project.

Cass Li, Fung Bao 2013-2024, installation view, 2026.

Image: Gabrielle Hall-Lomax

Cass Li, Popo in Kung Kung’s room, searching, 2024.

Image courtesy the artist.


Finally, in the back room, Elesa Stellios is exhibiting a three-screen video installation, employing an interactive program. And Toni Tait has two works, also involving video. One is described as “remediated video” - remediation being the process of adapting content from one medium to another. Tait’s other work has archival audio, field recording and a section of PVC pipe also contributing.
 
Elesa Stellios, this is how i must look, video still, 2026

Toni Tait, This is Fair Dinkum, video still detail, 2025

Once again, the annual VIEW project has delivered interesting and diverse artworks by another group of early-career artists. The accompanying publication refers to the project being “resolutely focused on the broadest definition” of photographic practice. That certainly is true of this exhibition. The question that cannot be answered at this time in 2026 is whether or not these, or other, artists will continue to explore the same types of work or will move into other areas. We will have to wait and see where each participant goes in their future practices. Given what Alex Robinson has referred to as limitless possibilities, each of these artists might take their practices anywhere!


This review is also available on the author's blog.

Friday, November 7, 2025

Dark Matter 2025

Visual Art (Photography) Review | Brian Rope

Dark Matter 2025

Joshua Catanzariti, Danica Chappell, Kristian Häggblom, Bingham Thurgate

Photo Access, Canberra

23 October 2025 – 22 November 2025

The 2025 Dark Matter residency program brought together four most interesting artists. They each spent part of this year working in the Photo Access darkroom and developing new works through experimentation.

At a conversation with the artists event I attended at the gallery, Joshua Catanzariti spoke about his research regarding how other people have used digital negatives and how, the more he explored, the more he felt that printing images onto paper and then using those prints as negatives was something he wanted to pursue. A large collage of images displayed in this exhibition was created in that way, using Japanese washi paper. The fibres of that paper got translated into those prints. Using film negatives, layering them on top of each other in the enlarger, was another technique he used. Overall, the created artworks are a marvellous portrait of the outcomes of the artist’s experiments.

A room with a few pictures on the wall

AI-generated content may be incorrect.
Joshua Catanzariti’s artworks – installation image © Eunie Kim 


Joshua Catanzariti, passage to Kasuga - installation (detail), 2025 © Eunie Kim


Joshua Catanzariti, Fuji – framed, 2025 - installation image © Eunie Kim


Danica Chappell’s artworks are absolutely different. She pressed her hands directly to surfaces, breaking a golden rule that had previously been instilled in darkroom workers: a film or paper surface should never be touched. She has investigated the history of photography through experimentation and touch, drawing inspiration from pictorialism photography, which links the hand and chance. Both colour and light are valued in the materials she employed, such as egg whites and old typewriter paper, as well as in the actual production of her final products. She clearly has a strong interest in geometry and abstraction, receding spatial forms, and advancing photography's methods while appreciating its past.

Danica Chappell’s artworks – installation image © Eunie Kim 


A group of pictures on a shelf

AI-generated content may be incorrect.
Danica Chappel, selection from the series Kaleidoscope, 2025 – installation image © Eunie Kim 


Two most interesting pieces amongst those on display are from a series, appropriately titled Shadow Shaping (light-modulated-form). The shapes, the colours, the light - all are fascinating.

A painting on a wall

AI-generated content may be incorrect.
Danica Chappel, Shadow Shaping (light-modulated-form #6), 2025 – installation image © Eunie Kim


Kristian Häggblom has drawn on his childhood memory. He has used surviving darkroom photographs made by his father as the impetus for his explorations. In particular he has referred to images his parent made relating to the 1986 Halley’s Comet celestial occurrence. He has sought to re-tell and speculate about that and other associated stories of destiny and doom. And he has spoken about embracing mistakes in the darkroom. The integrated placement of the displayed completed artworks provides a complete, and most enjoyable, visual portrayal of this project – in many ways a homage. However, the artist has suggested we may not be able to read it all.

A room with art on the wall

AI-generated content may be incorrect.
Kristian Häggblom’s artworks – installation image © Eunie Kim 


A black rectangular object on a white surface

AI-generated content may be incorrect.
Kristian Häggblom, Halley’s Comet, 1986 – photograph and print by Robert Haggblom, analogue print with wooden base – installation image © Eunie Kim


A framed picture on a wall

AI-generated content may be incorrect.
Kristian HäggblomOn the Beach (Kunihiro Hanasaka & Kristian Häggblom), 2004 – photograph by Souma Sato, framed archival digital print – installation image © Eunie Kim


Bingham Thurgate’s work is accompanied by text written for the catalogue by Mae West on his behalf. It seeks to shift our focus to the “spatial, objectual and material qualities of the photographic image and the ways in which these elements, once manipulated, both shape and guide his methodology.” Four created three-dimensional pieces of art use a variety of materials, such as acrylic paint, hinges, chair legs, bolts, paraffin wax, polyester fabric, and balsawood, in addition to their photographic content.

A room with art on the wall

AI-generated content may be incorrect.
Bingham Thurgate’s artworks – installation image © Eunie Kim


It is good to view these works from various angles rather than simply front on. Doing that reveals so much more, better enabling us to see their qualities in the way West has identified.

Bingham Thurgate, Photographic print #1, 2025 (dye-sublimation print on eco lycra, MDF board, chair legs, bolts) - installation image © Eunie Kim (detail selected by Brian Rope) 

All four artists have created excellent artworks from their individual programs of experimentation, demonstrating once again that the annual Dark Matter residencies program is successfully achieving its aims.

This review is also available on the author's blog here.

Friday, October 17, 2025

Figa No Face, & Virtual Gaze

Visual Art Exhibition Review | Brian Rope

Figa No Face | Lilah Benetti

Virtual Gaze | Annabelle McEwen

Photo Access | 18 September to 18 October 2025 

Some research told me that anarchive is a term denoting absence in archives. Archival documents, in colonial holdings in particular, are replete with absences, especially as concerns the voices of the colonised. These absences come into sharp view during disagreements when the past is invoked to claim a right of belonging.

Lilah Benetti’s personal website informed me that the Black and Blur Anarchive is a transdisciplinary project building a living, relational archive of Black queer memory, kinship and cultural survival. It values ambiguity, intimacy and incompleteness, resisting singular narratives and centring gender non-conforming ways of being. Shaped by the part of philosophy that is about the study of how we know things, the archive space is where memory and imagination blur and intertwine as mutually sustaining forces.

Black and Blur maps geography relationally, cultivating conditions where Black futures can be dreamed into being. The works displayed are part of artist Benetti’s ongoing transdisciplinary project building a living, relational archive of Black queer memory, kinship and cultural survival across Australia, Africa and the UK. The artist has drawn on conversations in West Africa with elders, activists, artists and others living at the intersection of marginalised Black life, engaging Indigenous knowledge systems that view the body as spiritual and relational rather than singular.

The room sheet for Figa No Face tells us “The image is never neutral. Each photograph carries the weight of what has come before, rippling across borders into the political present, folding into impressions, memories, and projections.”

In these artworks the figure appears as a trace, as memory drifting into myth, as fragments gathering into story. There are prints of analogue film stills (a number of which, appropriately, are significantly blurred), a multi-channel high-definition tape video, and a 15:44 minutes audio installation titled Black and Blur, Frequency Soundscape Portraits. There is much to think about and absorb in this collection of material.

Figa No Face installation image © Eunie Kim

Figa No Face installation image © Eunie Kim

Figa No Face installation image © Eunie Kim


'CIRE [009]', 2024 © Lilah Benetti

Annabelle McEwen is a multidisciplinary artist. The room sheet for Virtual Gaze tells us that McEwen’s work “interrogates corporate surveillance of the body, where gestures and expressions are observed, hijacked and interpreted by algorithms. Synthesising analogue photography, digital technologies and material processes, the project considers how surveillance systems and algorithmically curated content shape agency, reality and future.”

You very possibly haven’t heard of The Extended Cohn–Kanade (CK+) dataset. It is a large-scale facial expression recognition dataset containing 2,065 images of 215 subjects displaying 8 basic emotions. Way back in 2000, the Cohn-Kanade (CK) database was released  for the purpose of promoting research into automatically detecting individual facial expressions. Since then, it has become one of the most widely used testbeds for algorithm development and evaluation.

McEwen has re-staged expressions from the dataset, which is used by governments and corporate bodies to register, stratify, interpret, and store our facial expressions. Applying them to their face using expanded photographic methods such as photogrammetry and gaussian splatting (a technique that enables the conversion of multiple images into a representation of 3D space, which can be used to create images as seen from new angles) the artist has captured a virtual gaze of the body. The resultant images are displayed as sculptural prints, exposing and visualising power structures embedded in contemporary technologies.

There is a print animation with a recorded data centre hum displayed on an iPad.  There are artworks printed on a fine-grained paper and on vinyl. Others are etched copper with cast silicon frames. There is a group of works created using Portland cement, graded sand, calcium aluminate cement, calcium carbonate and polyvinyl acetate homopolymer resin. And there is a dye sublimation print on carpet tile. Expressions conveying surprise, anger, disgust, joy, sadness and fear are portrayed in several works. Again, there is much to think about and absorb in these artworks.

Virtual Gaze installation image © Eunie Kim

Virtual Gaze installation image © Eunie Kim

Virtual Gaze installation image © Eunie Kim

‘Silicone Valley Conductor (surprise)’, 2025 © Annabelle McEwen

This review is also available on the author's blog here.

Monday, June 9, 2025

The Bees and the Ledger, and An Satong Kawaran

Photo Media Exhibition Review | Brian Rope

The Bees and the Ledger | Kai Wasikowski

An Satong Kawaran | George Calvelo

Photo Access | 15 May – 14 June 2025

Bees in the Ledger is described as being a kind of slow family work. Whilst you may well know little about the artist’s grandmother, Natalia Broadhurst, who is the central figure in the story presented here, you very likely know a lot about other members of his family. I’ll just mention that both his parents are excellent photo media artists, and his actress sister has been known to use her camera on a film set between takes.

So where does the exhibition’s title come from? The exhibition catalogue tells us that bees remember and that a ledger works in much the same way, structuring things so we can return to names, to dates, to whatever else we've recorded in them. The artist suggests that a ledger is a hive of sorts, with each entry being akin to a cell in a beehive, storing things which might otherwise not stay within our memories. And of course it is absolutely true that photography creates contents for a ledger - a place where we store images which remind us of what we saw, of things that we were doing, or places we had visited.

In this exhibition, Kai Wasikowski share parts of his grandmothers somewhat abandoned European life, abandoned when she migrated - arriving in Australia on a cargo ship in the 1970s. There are two large walls of photographs - one of domestic scenes, the other a variety. On one wall the images are displayed in a grid, on the other as a sequence. Careful examination allows us to take in what is being shared.

Kai Wasikowski, from the series 'The Bees and the Ledger,' 2024

Kai Wasikowski, from the series 'The Bees and the Ledger,' 2024

Kai Wasikowski, from the series 'The Bees and the Ledger,' 2024


The second exhibition here is by George Calvelo, previously a photojournalist in the Philippines and currently a documentary photographer based in Canberra. His artist bio tells us his personal work now “reflects years of unprocessed thoughts stemming from witnessing systemic disinformation and simmering societal disorder in his native country.”

The title of this exhibition An Satong Kawaran translates to “In Our Absence.” As with the companion exhibition, this show is about a life left behind in another country and a new life emerging in Australia.

Before leaving his home country Calvelo exposed several rolls of film. His intention was to re-expose them after he arrived in Australia. However, using the slow deliberate process of analogue photography, he did something different from photojournalism. He photographed his memories, familiar places, his childhood home, and final moments in places where he'd said his personal goodbyes. Later, looking at overlapping images on his developed films he found it hard to cut the frames. Why? Because he felt that he was looking at a dream like state of transition, where his sense of home was evolving because of the new place that he was now living.

So what we see in this exhibition are images where photographs captured in his new home have been overlapped with photographs from his old home. The result is some most extraordinary creations. Two of the archival inkjet prints are very large - one is 100 by 340 cm, another 130 by 324 cm. The quality of these prints is superb. 

George Calvelo, from the series 'An Satong Kawaran,’ 2023/2024

In addition to the prints, the exhibition includes two other pieces. Overlaid negative strips on a light box enable us to think about his “dream-like state”.

Installation image © Eunie Kim

And there is a 06:17 length video which is a compilation of Calvelo’s visual diary and past assignments. This beautifully shows us something of where this artist has been, what he’s heard, what he saw, and how he moved through the moments displayed. There are dreamlike pieces, photojournalistic images of events during periods of martial law, glorious portrayals of the Philippines countryside, and much more.

This review is also available on the author's own blog here.

Saturday, May 10, 2025

LIGHT | INTERSECTION and NUDES

Visual Art (Photography) Exhibitions Review | Brian Rope

LIGHT | INTERSECTION I Alex Walker
NUDES | Skye Thompson

Photo Access, Canberra | 11 April - 10 May 2025

I will start by suggesting these two exhibitions have no obvious or apparent relationship to each other. One is about drawing us into “a dynamic encounter where light is both subject and material.” The other “floats towards” troubling family histories and “re-sensitises.” I will return to this later but first let me discuss each exhibition quite separately.

Alex Walker is a trained darkroom photographer interested, amongst other things, in analogue processes and spatial perception. Her work seeks to explore how light travels. Showing it in Light | Intersection, she changes our perception of what we see. Information on the gallery website and in Kathryne Genevieve Honey’s essay in the room sheet explain that it is a site-specific exhibition exploring the role of light in photography and architecture.

The “architecture” of the gallery is not exactly spectacular. However, the moment I walked in and saw coloured lights moving around and across the surfaces of the first space and of the exhibits within it, I was drawn in. The light impacted on the sensory information which I received and endeavoured to understand and interpret. That, after all, is what perception is all about.

Alex Walker, Window Warp II, 2025

Light | Intersection installation image – Brian Rope 

Light | Intersection installation image – Brian Rope 

In the second gallery space Walker has placed illuminated light boxes within the ceiling - and above mirrors on the floor. Walking carefully between the mirrors whilst looking into their surfaces and at the changing lights overhead is a joyous sensory experience revealing more new ways of considering and experiencing photography.

Light | Intersection installation image – Brian Rope

Light | Intersection installation image – Brian Rope

The second exhibition, Nudes, is in the separate third gallery space. The artist, Skye Thompson, has reimagined what she describes as “the overlooked material of 8mm home films - transparent leader, light leaks, and physical blemishes - as a space for reflection and repair.”

The “vaguely sexual titles” of a number of artworks brought smiles to my face. A copy of her Nudes zine in a fabric bag alongside a handwritten instruction “touch me” and an arrow pointing to it. A vibrating artwork about the clitoris. Even a copy of the room sheet is somewhat cheekily displayed within an article of feminine underwear.

Image of Thompson’s vibrating artwork on light box – Brian Rope
 
Image of displayed room sheet – Brian Rope

However, the important message in this exhibition is not humorous. The artist has written in the room sheet “Architectural shapes, the body and vaguely sexual titles all speak to my longing for a connection that is not predicated on denial. The aura of violence and its disavowal can be felt in these works. Past and present are touching each other in a dream space. My Nudes call for intimacy and repair.”

Thompson studied screen production in the late nineties, directed film clips for bands, and shot her own vignettes and small documentaries. For these artworks, she has drawn from 8mm films created by her family forebears - slicing and overlapping selected fragments. The resultant delicate compositions “explore memory, the body, and the politics of visibility.”

Skye Thompson, Sun Bake, 2024

Through a practice grounded in disruption, she embraces imperfection as a form of resistance. Her digital scans of film retain whatever particles are on the material – dust, saliva, whatever. Quite the opposite of cinematic clarity and control, the result is an alternative archive - intimate, fractured, and quietly radical. Each artwork is well worth spending time with - looking, exploring, noticing, doing what every good photographer does – SEEING! 

So, was I wrong to suggest there is no connection between these two exhibitions? Yes, I was. Both are very much about sensory experiences. Both should impact on the viewer’s perceptions. Both challenge us.

This review is also available on the author's blog here.

Sunday, February 9, 2025

VIEW 2025

Visual Art Exhibition Review | Brian Rope

VIEW 2025 I Cailyn Forrest, Adam Hsieh, Fiona Lee, Aia Solis, Emma Winkler

Photo Access I 23 January – 22 February 2025

VIEW 2025 shares artworks by emerging artists Cailyn Forrest, Adam Hsieh, Fiona Lee, Aia Solis, and Emma Lyn Winkler. It is accompanied by a publication offering insights into current photographic trends.

Cailyn Forrest is a Doctoral candidate in her final year at the National Art School, Sydney. Her practice focusses on examining analogue and alternative photographic processes through a feminist lens.

In her work Darkroom Viscera here, Forrest has transformed the act of photography into a bodily ritual, intertwining artist and material. The results are, in effect, a performance. They show us a female body, but it is not portrayed in a conventional manner. Rather the set of ten seemingly faded prints successfully present the artist’s body very differently. The artist has described them as “little experiments.” An experiment is generally considered to be a careful test used to discover or understand something that is not known. So, it is interesting to look at this series and consider how well Forrest’s experiments, whether little or more substantial, have improved our understanding of the female body.

16122024, 2024 - Silver gelatin print on hand-coated rice paper on board – Cailyn Forrest

Adam Hsieh is a digital artist. Guided by his experience as a queer Chinese migrant, Hsieh’s art practice seeks to explore the dynamic tension between places and place-makers. He uses multi-sensory interventions, manipulating systems of light, sound, moving images, code, and AI.

In I Didn’t Come Here for Love here Hsieh has used juxtaposition – wide-angle views of Hobart’s Mount Wellington alongside exchanges had with others on the geosocial app Grindr. Words from those encounters are superimposed on the well-chosen views of the famous mountain. The resultant video installation runs for 10 minutes showing limited movements in each channel as it screens.

I didn’t come here for love, 2023 - feature image from three-channel video installation
– Adam Hsieh


Fiona Lee is an artist based in Elands, NSW. Using installations, photo media, and sculpture, her practice engages with critical social issues, focusing on climate change and the post-natural world.

In her Future Critical artwork here she seeks to confront ecological loss and political inertia, arising from the experience of losing her home in the 2019–2020 bushfires. Using an inkjet print of video stills, a clock and audio, this work explores the lack of necessary action by political systems through visual disruptions, layering, and fragmented imagery. Their portrayed remnants speak to us of the destruction of our precious forests, reminding us of the terrible impacts the fires had on the natural environment.

VIEW round - inkjet print of video stills – Fiona Lee

Aia Solis is a Filipino artist based in Australia. Her photographic practice explores themes of learning, unlearning, and relearning through an experiential approach. Her work explores emotional tensions experienced in personal and cultural transitions.

In her work Taranta Muna, Solis merges past memories and present realities, using some quite delightful stitching on photo collage plus video. On her Instagram account she has written that this is “an ongoing project that reflects the unspoken dissonance of not fully belonging to the past or being entirely rooted in the present - a state of instability and uncertainty. Threads weave together images of past memories and present realities, creating a layered dialogue between control and chaos, seeking strength not in resolution, but in embracing the uncertainty of the in-between.”

These works were some of my favourites in the exhibition and I look forward to seeing more of this project as it evolves.

01 - stitching on photo collage - Aia Solis

Emma Winkler’s practice uses collage, painting and animation to explore the relationship between anxiety and death. She has a personal yet playful approach, inviting viewers to laugh in the face of death - or at least start a conversation about it.

The exhibition catalogue informs us that, in Shadow Puppets, Winkler fuses painting, photography, and animation into textured narratives infused with “existential absurdity.” I had to do some web browsing about that term, learning (amongst other things) that it underscores the conflict between our desire for order and the chaotic nature of the universe. Certainly, Winkler’s paintings (including a hand-painted stop-motion animation) here are fascinating combinations of diverse things wherein the end compositions to my eyes seemed appropriate.

Sinking Feeling, 2023, oil, acrylic and spray paint - Emma Winkler


This review is also available on the author's blog here.