Documenting the Documentation

An important part of being an artist is getting your work professionally documented. My partner Shane Jones and I have been using the services of photographer Tim Gresham for many years, in my case, for nigh on three decades. Fortunately for us, Tim also moved to Ballarat in recent years, although he still has numerous clients in Melbourne. 

In the first two shots, Tim prepares to photograph my reworked drawing Visible Mending in his Ballarat studio. My protagonist’s body decoration is based on an embroidery design by May Morris, doyenne of the British Arts and Crafts movement.

Tim Gresham is also one of Australia’s most accomplished tapestry weavers and he still works part-time at the renowned Australian Tapestry Workshop. To the left of my drawing (third view below) is one of Tim’s exquisite woven tapestries. At the photo session I was struck by the remarkable synchronicity between our two works. Their connection is purely serendipitous, yet it’s almost as if one was made in response to the other.

Art documentation

At the start of a new week, preparation for my forthcoming solo show, Backstories, continues apace. 

This afternoon we visited the studio of photographer Tim Gresham to get the last of the artworks documented. On the left is The Sea She Saw, the painting I recently reworked. (See Blog Post Saturday, July 3). 

Tim has been photographing my artwork since the late 1980s, when we both lived in Melbourne. Fortunately for me - and a lot of other local artists - he moved to Ballarat a few years ago. Tim still spends three days in Melbourne (he is also a talented weaver, and works part-time at the renowned Australian Tapestry Workshop), so Melbourne-based artists and galleries can still avail themselves of his services.

Ordinarily, I get groups of artworks documented as I go along. Today Tim also photographed a second work (not pictured) that was actually painted last year, but somehow fell through the cracks at the time. The next time I see the works on the wall will be on July 24 at the opening of my show at Stephen McLaughlan Gallery. 

STAGES: photography through the pandemic

I’m happy to have learned that the photographic work pictured above, Covert Covid 1: Self-portrait in Anaxidia lactea Moth Mask, (2020-21) has been selected for inclusion in STAGES: photography through the pandemic, an evolving exhibition in the MGA Atrium Gallery, Monash Gallery of Art. 

Extract from my artist statement:

The work, one of a suite of twelve, was begun during the relatively early days of lockdown, when the efficacy of face masks was still under debate. It was only later that mask wearing became recognised as an essential protective measure, one that remains firmly embedded in our daily lives. 

STAGES: photography through the pandemic runs from 1 June – 29 August 2021

Monash Gallery of Art - The Australian Home of Photography 

860 Ferntree Gully Road

Wheelers Hill Victoria 3150 Australia

Phone +61 3 8544 0500

mga@monash.vic.gov.au

Hours:

Tuesday - Friday: 10 am - 5 pm

Weekends: 10 am - 4 pm

COVERT COVID 12

Pictured above: Covert Covid 12: Self-portrait in Chenuala heliaspis Moth Mask, (1)  the final work in a set of twelve, created in as many days during life in lockdown.

"In the event of an oxygen shortage on airplanes, mothers of young children are always reminded to put on their own oxygen mask first, better to assist the children with theirs. The same tactic is necessary on terra firma. There's no way of sustaining our children if we don't first rescue ourselves. I don't call that selfish behaviour. I call it love".
- Joyce Maynard.

The masks in this series (scroll down to see the previous eleven) were originally conceived in 2010 as a relatively small part of a substantial body of work relating to my feminist fairy tale, The Story of the Moth Masks (2008). Somewhat overlooked at the time, the masks now seem uncannily prescient. Ten years on, they've finally found their proper place, although as yet, there's no fairy tale ending in sight.

(1) Chenuala heliaspis mask, 2010, acrylic on found papier-mâché mask.

COVERT COVID 11

Covert Covid 11: Self-portrait in Scaptesyle dichotoma Moth Mask (1), the penultimate instalment of a series created in my Covid Cave in Ballarat East over twelve days of life in lockdown.

(1) Scaptesyle dichotoma mask, 2010, acrylic on found papier-mâché mask, de rigueur for social distancing and equally indispensable for the prevention of face-touching.

COVERT COVID 10

Covert Covid 10: Self-portrait in Agathia pisina Moth Mask (1).

Ballarat East, Tuesday, 28 April, 2020.

(1) Agathia pisina mask, 2010, acrylic on found papier-mâché mask.

COVERT COVID 9

Covert Covid 9: Self-portrait in Damiens elegans Moth Mask, (1) ninth in a suite of twelve.

“The human face is, after all, nothing more or less than a mask”
- Agatha Christie.

Ballarat East, Monday, 27 April, 2020.

(1) Damiens elegans mask, 2010, acrylic on found papier-mâché mask.

COVERT COVID 8

Covert Covid 8: Self-portrait in Dysallacta megalopa Moth Mask (1) #8 in a sequence of 12.

Stay home, stay safe.

Ballarat East, Sunday, 26 April, 2020.

(1) Dysallacta megalopa mask, 2010, acrylic on found papier-mâché mask.

COVERT COVID 7

Covert Covid 7: Self-portrait in Amerila timolis Moth Mask, (1) #7 of a twelve-part series.

Ballarat East, Saturday, 25 April, 2020.

(1) Amerila timolis mask, 2010, acrylic on found papier-mâché mask.

COVERT COVID 6

Covert Covid 6: Self-portrait in Carthea saturnioides Moth Mask. (1)

"Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth"
- Oscar Wilde.

Ballarat East, Friday, 24 April 2020.

(1) Carthea saturnioides mask, 2010, acrylic on found papier-mâché mask, 2010.

COVERT COVID 5

Covert Covid 5: Self-portrait in Conogethes tharsalea Moth Mask, (1) the fifth in an ongoing series reflecting on social isolation and life in lockdown.

The artist's studio, Ballarat East, Thursday, 23 April 2020.

(1) Conogethes tharsalea mask, 2010, acrylic on found papier-mâché mask.

COVERT COVID 4

Covert Covid 4: Self-portrait in Uliocnemis partita Moth Mask. (1) Life in lockdown and social isolation on International Mother Earth Day 2020.

The artist's studio, Ballarat East, Wednesday, 22 April, 2020.

(1) Uliocnemis partita mask, 2010, acrylic on found papier-mâché mask.

COVERT COVID 3

Covert Covid 3: Self-portrait in Dymphania numana Moth Mask. (1)

The artist's studio, Ballarat East, Tuesday, 21 April, 2020.

(1) Dymphania numana mask, 2010, acrylic on found papier-mâché mask.

COVERT COVID 2

Covert Covid 2: Self-portrait in Hypsidia robinsoni Moth Mask (1).  

A personal response to social isolation and life in lockdown.

The artist's studio, Ballarat East, Monday, 20 April, 2020.

(1) Hypsidia robinsoni mask, 2010, acrylic on found papier-mâché mask.

COVERT COVID

In the latest instalment of its long, complex history, the mask has become emblematic of these troubled times. It seems the moth masks I created several years ago have finally come into their own. A spontaneous photograph, snapped during a recent studio clear up, has inadvertently spawned an ongoing series, COVERT COVID, a personal response to social distancing and life in lockdown.

Pictured top: Covert Covid 1: Self-portrait in Anaxidia lactea Moth Mask. (1)

The artist's studio, Ballarat East, Sunday, 19 April 2020.

(1) Anaxidia lactea mask, 2010, acrylic on found papier-mâché mask.

My younger self

Deborah Klein, Self-portrait as an undergraduate, circa 1982,
 oil on canvas, 50.8 x 38.1 cm

The self-portrait pictured above was made in the early 1980s when I was an art school undergraduate at what is now Monash University (Caulfield Campus). Buried deep in storage for decades, it resurfaced during our recent move. 

The two photos directly below date from around the same time. They were sent to me in late 2018 by Melbourne photographer, Russell Brooks, although this is the first time I’ve shared them. In the second photo, I’m pictured with Tania Sironic, a fellow printmaking student. Hard to believe I was ever that young, although I still feel the same at heart. Happily, I’m still in touch with some of the good folk from those dim, distant days.