Burrow of Peridot and Sunshine Magazine
Argyle Tramp Blaze Fondu
As I write this on a Tuesday afternoon at 3.30pm, I take a survey of my studio. It reveals discarded cut offs, bundles of torn fabrics and illegible journal notes that have attempted to capture urgent artistic notions. A week-old neon pink enamel paint slick rests on a neglected concrete floor; black plastic paint palettes are stacked next to atrophying brush bristles submerged in green water; these sit alongside a soggy SOLVOL soap bar, its volcanic rock contents - disfigured and eroded by overuse. This scene is where I jettison, dump and recycle new information, visual cues, and cultural forces into tangible art objects invested with research, critical thought, and creative curiosity. Join me now as we excavate the possibilities of our condition and the inaccuracies of our world.
A retrospective of landscapes with a focus on the tundra of hot springs. Winter Earthquake’s work explores the relationship between concrete forms and the tyranny of distance. With influences as diverse as Michael Jackson and mandala making. New variations on the traditional understanding of the universe are explored through a synergistic blend of spaghetti remnants on corrugated picked cat fur.
Spatial replicas become a metaphor for urban gentrification and an attempt to translate the boundaries of academic practice and personal hygiene. Pin Marrow’s influences span bird-watching and anime from which new insights into frozen hymns spring. A powerful and dynamic installation that incorporates tennis racket strings and cubed watermelon on a sharehouse bath mat.
Summer heat trapped in a goldfish tank! With influences as wide-ranging as Miles Davis and that guy who drums on plastic buckets in the Pitt Street Mall, Futile Dialects push the hypersensitivity of the decomposition of sound aided by the symbiosis of flint and cotton to create a fog of lobster tartan. It just goes to show that the disturbance produced by a work of art displays shimmering thoughts though they crack under a midnight sun.
Apricot Chicken Dinner
An amalgamation of childhood memories and pink flamingos on parched seaside cement is the latest offering from Vodka Tulip. Her influences include time spent meandering through Balkan bookshops and Viking techno. As a result, her poetry — combined with radio static — aims to eliminate the distinction between stylistics and linguistics. The audience is left to observe. Like thick chewy sheets, the treacherous flight of the golden frypans releases droplets of petrified smoke: only to be celebrated then buried by plastic realities awash in inky rebellion.
Ocean Quiver’s newest bespoke designs fuse hard-edged abstraction with vacant stares. Think fashion of the Russian Czars circa 1720 meets Vivienne Westwood! A bold exploration of digital embellishments paired with Jute vests makes for an unexpected yet stunning departure from his signature ribbed pantaloons and gauze stilettos. Inspiration came when Ocean asked his Instagram followers ‘What kind of architectural malaise would Siya wear to a recently opened Dadaist Nightclub complete with 3D Soviet textile and poetry printer?'
Woodchuck Mushroom has some new poetry out with independent publishing house, Snake Sleigh. His newest offerings are a mash-up of overheard conversations in the vacant mist paired with the change of direction that a ray (of light) undergoes when it enters a transparent medium.
Titled Parasitic Antidotes, the book contains personal ephemera stuffed into draws, folders, and stored on hard drives. It also includes notions of locale embedded in landmarks, scribbled on train seats and seared by the sun into horizons and skyscrapers. A sentimental cache of saved emails and bookmarked Facebook memories all convene into a non-linear chronology that push and pull themselves into view. Akin to a parasite: they corrupt the purity of a memory and clarity of an experience. In its place is an abstract symphony of curated Spotify playlists, forgotten status updates, and mouldy love crushes.
Vapor Bath, an avid teapot collector dips her foot into the tepid pool of pirate reggae! At times this noise is an intrusive and inconvenient interloper conjuring up toxic nostalgia and congealed ideas. At others, it is a site of transformation working in unison with you to overthrow rigid and regulated ways of relating and observing.
Her debut performance at Carrot Meat’s open mic night last Friday was well attended and got the attention of Indie reviewer, Balsam Jacket. Jacket observed, ‘Vapor’s monotone and repetitive buzzes, clicks and pops activate the stage. A gravel courtyard punctuates the space; burnt umber pebbles fill a hollowed out square that people walk over to get close to the action. This acts as an accidental accompaniment for those who choose to dance on the crushed rock. An audio storm builds as the dancers jutter and pound on the gravel.’
About the author
Melissa Hamlyn is a visual artist, digital media enthusiast, an avid photographer, writer and zine maker who graduated from RMIT with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in 2016 and in 2017 completed an Honours of Fine Arts at UNSW. Melissa has written about and reviewed creative events across Melbourne and Sydney for several digital and print platforms.
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