The Madding Crowd

Last night was a 3 opening extravaganza starting with Deborah Kelly opening a short exhibition as part of the winding down festivities at GBK.  A bitter sweet mixture of some of the best art in Sydney at one of the last remaining commercial galleries worth going to, cast in the melancholy glow of its final days in the veritable world.  Great news to hear that it is only disappearing in its physical form, regenerating as a virtual presence with pop up underground guerrilla gallery emanations.  Property is so nineteen-eighties.  Great thing about this show is that it has a selection of DKelly’s “The Miracles” which I had the great honor of photographing for.  Next we went on to A-M Gallery to celebrate Charlotte Haywood’s exhibition of textiles, mostly wearing pink and engaged in unnatural congress with various bits of hardware.  I obviously found it inspiring because at some moment I “borrowed” a cloth flower pendant from a friend, pinned it to my own chest and dubbed it the “Man-Flower”, a men’s only fashion accessory.  After some quick, impromptu market research, I realized I had a powerful new consumer product on my hands, that my money problems had instantly evaporated and that I was going to need more therapy to handle the rapid ego expansion that material success was surely going to bring.  That, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call a-p-p-r-o-p-r-i-a-t-i-o-n.  I’m going to integrate it into an entire raft of strategies and products aimed at lady-fying the masculine which will also include the resuscitation of hugging as a form of greeting and a male only lipstick.  At the end of the night we dragged our bedraggled asses down to factory 49 where Kate Mackay schooled us in the non objective, gave us a warm glass of milk and told us to get some sleep already.  Good night art world, good night.

Justin Cooper practices his “bitter old man” look, preparing himself for many resentment-filled years of disappointment and heartache as a pariah of the artworld.  Give in Justin.  Paint the people something nice that they can hang over their sofa and sleep soundly in the knowledge that they are cultured or tasteful or whatever it is that people are buying these days.  If you are looking for a lurid and perverse art experience, this one is worth a peak.  It’s on at A-M Gallery until August 4.  Artist Talks Sat July 21 12:00.

Things on this blog are getting right out of order, so much is happening.  This should have followed directly on from the post about the opening of Situation Critical as it represents an art bus journey from INDEX that followed on from that opening. We journeyed into the badlands of Penrith and the gated community otherwise known as The Penrith Regional Gallery, where we felt like champagne swilling tourists, pampered and ignorant, gaping slack jawed at the exoticism of the native Penrithian in his natural habitat.  There we saw massive reproductions of the heads of football players and their fans before our guide, Peter Williams, ushered us into a small back room to gape slack jawed at the organic assemblages of curiouser & curiouser and Peter’s work in particular.  Then he took us into his trophy room where he showed us all the shiny medals and awards that the Penrithians had given him for his contribution to the arts.  These people obviously know how to appreciate culture.

The night before last, good friend, beautiful man and fellow indexalator Eric Niebuhr opened his solo exhibition at Damien Minton Gallery.  Beautiful paintings Eric.  Congratulations

Though some people found the show “not quite clean enough”, Situation Critical is a favorite of mine amongst all the things we’ve done here at INDEX.  Perhaps it is the high concept art povera feel, or possibly the overwhelming element of play of mis and re appropriation, converting the detritus of dissatisfied consumer whims into the meaningfulness that necessarily vacates the original objects upon purchase.  Who cares really, its a great show. you should come see it.

We began the day waving signs and chanting slogans at the World Refugee Day protest in the city and ended at Anna Swartz sipping champaigne under the work of Yinka Shonibare’s Invasion, Escape: Alien’s do it Right. The common thread was the recent capsizing of a boat of asylum seekers off Australian waters with the feared loss of nearly 100 lives.  If the absurdity of this contrast seems extreme, it is dwarfed by the responses of the politicians, who seem only to see it as an opportunity to advance their  exclusionary agendas.  I read that Yinka was surprised by the Australian treatment of refugees, given our history.  Actually, it is absolutely consistent with our history.

I want to thank Thursday night for the masses of fun.  It began at Safari opening at the Rocks, where I busted Heath Franco and Jodie Whalen kissing.  I knew there was something between them.  Ken Simpson is always good camera fodder.  I think he’s about to pop a vein, so furious is he at the shamelessly transparent plug for City of Sydney Tourism made by whoever was introducting the exhibition.  Then off to Chrissie Cotter in Camperdown to catch another triumph by Cigdem Ayedemir. 

INDEX. Artspace and Kandos Projects are proud to announce the foundation of the Kandos Institute of Contemporary Art (KICA) to be housed in the abandoned cement works at Kandos NSW.  This sprawling industrial property in the middle of the idyllic bushlands of central New South Whales was home to the Kandos Cement Works for nearly a hundred years.  This proud industrial beacon produced the cement that built much of Sydney, including the world famous Sydney Harbor Bridge, before closing last year due to technological developments in the industry.  This unique historical asset was slated for demolition, and the town of Kandos itself faced an uncertain future, when a consortium of private benefactors and public institutions came to its rescue, putting together a last minute package to preserve this unique jewel in the crown of Australia’s industrial history.  Described by art industry insiders as the Dia Beacon of Woop Woop, KICA stands poised on the periphery of the globalized art world, preparing one last all out assault on the center before we go back to minding our own business.  Hope you can join us.

George Adams thinking about color.

Yesterday I went to the MCA and I think I was insulted by this artwork but I can’t be sure.