Last days of BACKSTORIES

 

Pictured above: Mimic (Snake Tattoo), 2019, pigmented drawing ink and gouache on Khadi paper, 21 x 15 cm, followed below by an installation view of the work as part of my current solo show, Backstories, at Stephen McLaughlan Gallery.

The symbolism of the snake is multi-faceted. Historically, snakes and serpents are representative of the creative life force. The snake is a signifier of transformation, healing, fertility, rebirth and immortality, based primarily upon its ability to shed its skin.

Backstories has been in lockdown since early August, but as of next weekend, October 30 - 31, it will reopen for a final viewing opportunity. Huge thanks to Stephen McLaughlan for making this happen, and for his elegant invitation design for the special viewing. (See previous post).

Photo credit for Mimic: the artist

Photo credit for installation view: Kathryn Ryan/Julie Keating

Click on images for a clearer view.

BACKSTORIES 

Stephen McLaughlan Gallery

Level 8 Room 16 Nicholas Building 37 Swanston Street Melbourne 3000

(On the corner of Flinders Lane)

T: 0407 317 323     E: st73599@bigpond.net.au 

www.stephenmclaughlangallery.com.au

Gallery Hours: 

Saturday October 30: 11 am - 5 pm

Sunday October 31: 1 - 5 pm

Interim Studio

In the last few weeks, many of our possessions have made their way from Abbotsford to Ballarat prior to the big move in October - yet it feels as if we have barely scratched the surface. 

We’ve just changed storage firms (don’t ask) and it’s highly likely my studio will be requisitioned as a backup storage area before too long. In anticipation of this, l've converted the third bedroom of my Ballarat house into a makeshift studio. It was remarkably straightforward to set up a simple, functional workstation and even make up for some of the precious time already lost during this extremely disruptive period. In fact, the same room served as a temporary work space before my studio was completed several years ago. No doubt this has made it much easier to settle in and get straight down to it.

Before I had a chance to resume work, however, Alice gave the room a quick once over, dashed out and returned with her favourite toy mouse, a seal of approval if ever there was one. In the top view, she checks out Ecdysis, acrylic on linen, 40.5 x 30.5 cm, a work in progress. Like the lone traveller on the dust jacket of Norbert Wolf's Caspar David Friedrich: 'The Wanderer above a Sea of Mist', c.1818 (above left) it still has a long way to go. 

Ecdysis: a work in progress

Sometimes snakes can’t slough. They can’t burst their old skin. Then they go sick and die inside the old skin, and nobody ever sees the new pattern. It needs a real desperate recklessness to burst your old skin at last. You simply don’t care what happens to you, if you rip yourself in two, so long as you do get out.
D. H. Lawrence (1885 - 1930)

Numerous animals periodically moult, either seasonally or as part of their life cycles. The shedding of a snake’s skin is also known as sloughing, or ecdysis.

The discarded skin, which frequently remains intact, includes the brille, or ocular scale, so moulting is crucial for sustaining the snake’s clarity of vision.

Pictured above and below: selected progress views of Ecdysis, acrylic on linen, 40.5 x 30.5 cm.