Editioning at Agave Print Studio

Preview of the linocut edition for IRREPRESSIBLE, a group exhibition and print portfolio to be launched in early 2026. The project, which was conceived by Rona Green, will feature some truly terrific artists and I’m thrilled to be part of it. 

My linocut was printed by Australian printmaking legend Dianne Longley at Agave Print Studio at Trentham in West Central Victoria.

We were serenaded by some of the locals as we walked the path to Dianne’s studio to collect the completed edition. It was a delight to encounter Laughing kookaburras at such close range.

To see early progress views of the linocut, go HERE.

Images from top:

1-2: Print edition in progress at Agave Print Studio;

3: The splendid Albion Press on which the linocut was printed;

4-5: Special welcoming committee on the day we collected the completed print edition.

Photo credit for images 1-2: Dianne Longley.

For Auld Lang Syne

As another bittersweet year hurtles to a close, step inside my studio for auld lang syne.

We may be more than halfway through the twelve days of Christmas with a new year fast approaching, but in the studio, time stands still.  

Caught in the act

Cat among the canvases - or more specifically, Alice, captured shortly after I hastily removed one of my paintings from underneath her. 

Puzzled at my protestations, she reckons an Alice-shaped dent in the canvas will surely increase the value of the finished work, which is destined for Rückenfigur, my forthcoming solo show at Queenscliff Gallery, running from June 23 - July 17. 

A preview of the rescued painting will follow in the near future. 

The week that was: works in progress, daily walks and a birthday celebration

Sunshine came softly through my window today - followed by a walk amongst the wattles and back to our own backyard, where Alice is cultivating a penchant for parsley. Then the rains came.

In other news, on Wednesday, September 8, Shane marked his second birthday in lockdown with bubbles and a spectacular orange cake. We would have loved to share it with friends and family, but sadly restrictions forbade it. Hopefully next year… 

 

Spring is here

Pictured above: a new work for a new season, as yet untitled and not quite finished in time for the first day of spring, but close to it. 

The work is acrylic on two canvases and its dimensions are 37.5 x 15 cm. The vintage needlework to its left is by my late aunt, Eileen Elizabeth Klein. I inherited many of her doilies and placemats (but sadly, not her sewing skills) and have incorporated design motifs from several of them into recent works. One of them is HERE. These and other related paintings will be exhibited at Queenscliff Gallery in the near future. 

A series of progress views of the diptych follow directly. They include its sister work (also currently untitled and considerably further away from resolution).

My MIFF 2021

On the morning after the Melbourne International Film Festival ended, Alice can’t control her excitement, as our attention will once again be focused completely on her. We find her attitude very shallow, while in her turn, she thinks we’re philistines for viewing all the MIFF 69 films on my iPad. But needs must - we couldn’t figure out how to stream them via our projector or even through our TV. After a few futile attempts came to nothing, rather than fight a war with technology we knew we couldn’t win, we decided to work with what we had. 

Shane and I enjoyed our annual MIFF experience immensely, small screen notwithstanding. We saw 32 films by the festival’s end. There were many standouts, high among them, Hopper/Welles, 2020, Orson Welles (see above), a cineaste’s dream come true and a wonderful potential companion piece to Welles’s The Other Side of the Wind, 2018, which we were fortunate to see at a private screening a couple of years ago. 

Meanwhile, in my temporary studio in our adjoining dining room, progress gradually continues on the two paintings I’ve been developing between MIFF screenings. (See above). The vintage needlework on the left is by my late Aunt Eileen and will form the basis for the bottom panels in the diptychs.

Here are our 32 films:

Bodies in Motion - Movement on Screen: As One, Bonanza!, Multiply, Poleng, The Prelude - Michelle (Short Films, Dance)

Hopper/Welles (2020, Orson Welles)

Sisters With Transistors (2020, Lisa Rovner)

The Most Beautiful Boy in the World (2021, Kristina Lindstrom, Kristian Petri)

Set! (2021, Scott Gawlick)

The Village Detective: A Song Cycle (2021, Bill Morrison)

Come Back Anytime (2021, John Daschbach)

Girls I Museum (2020, Shelly Silver)

Topside (2020, Celine Held, Logan George)

Bandaranaike Band (2021, Manijey Hekmat)

Wojnarowicz (2020, Chris McKim)

The Gig is Up (2021, Shannon Walsh)

The Hill Where Lionesses Roar (2021, Luana Bajrami)

Sabaya (2021, Hogir Hirori) 

Nudo Mixteco (2021, Angeles Cruz)

Riders of Justice (2020, Anders Thomas Jensen)

Chess of the Wind (1976, Mohammad Reza Aslani)

The Night (2019, Kourosh Ahari)

Palazzo di Cozzo (2021, Madeleine Martiniello)

Wife of a Spy (2020, Kiyoshi Kurosawa)

Gaza Mon Amour (2020, Arab Nasser, Tarzan Nasser)

Coda (2020, Sian Heder)

Queen of Glory (2021, Nanah Mensah)

Celts (2021, Milica Tomovic)

My Name is Pauli Murray (2021, Betsy West, Julie Cohen). 

What We See When We Look at the the Sky (2021, Alexandre Koberidze)

Wasteland (2020, Ahmad Bahrami) 

Dear Comrades (2021, Andrei Konchalovsky, Alisher Usmanov)

Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched: a History of Folk Horror (2021, Kier-La Janisse)

Night of the Kings (2021, Philippe Lacôte)

Karen Dalton: In My Own Time (2020, Richard Peete, Robert Yapkowitz)

James and Isey (2021, Florian Habicht)

Adventures in Melbourne

Between 2 - 18 August, most roads led to MIFF venues, although my stimulating and productive Melbourne stay also set me on an unexpected path with a new series of works on paper. A recent bout of flu, from which I'm just emerging, has delayed this last post about my recent adventures in Melbourne, my first as a visitor, rather than as a resident.

The Plenary, situated on Melbourne's Docklands, was a first-time (and hopefully, last time) venue.  

The Plenary had all the charm of an airport lounge. Nobody I spoke to enjoyed going there.
Still, I'm rather proud of this early evening shot, taken after an afternoon of screenings.

English born director and screenwriter Peter Strickland was a MIFF guest and was
a refreshingly warm, engaging and down-to-earth speaker. I saw several of his films,
and by comparison, found the plots curiously distancing and off-putting and felt little sympathy
 - or any sense of connection for that matter - with his characters.

Below are 15 of my favourite films. (I tried unsuccessfully to limit the list to ten and could easily have added more):

God Exists, Her Name is Petrunya

Jinpa

Honeyland 

The Nightingale

And Then We Danced

House of Hummingbird

Ghost Town Anthology

Stitches

A Regular Woman

Ghost Tropic

Vai

Papicha

The Juniper Tree

Talking About Trees

The Swallows of Kabul

Complete details of the above can be found on my MIFF 2019 schedule HERE. I made several alterations to it during the course of the film festival: subtracting, adding and switching session times. An annoying fault in the MIFF app is that not all the changes are reflected in the final list. Adding further confusion, a special MIFF screening I attended late last year is also listed. Nevertheless, it's a record of sorts and I’m still thinking about many of the films I did see. The MIFF Travelling Showcase heads to Ballarat soon, and I hope to catch up with some that I missed.

My MIFF was sandwiched between two noteworthy theatrical events: the dazzling Everything’s Coming Up Sondheim  at Chapel Off Chapel on August 2 and Sunday in the Park With George at the Lawler Theatre, which we saw shortly after MIFF had ended. Stephen Sondheim’s Pulitzer Prize winning musical drama, inspired by the pointillist artist George Seurat and his masterwork, A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grand Jatte, could not have been better served than by Watch This, the Melbourne-based company that specialises in his work. To my mind, no one does Sondheim better. Watch This finds the heart in his work like no other company I've seen. The entire cast, led by Nick Simpson-Deeks as George (pictured below) and Vidya Makan as Dot, his model, muse and lover, were sublime, as was every aspect of the production, which we saw twice. Over the years, I've seen other versions of Sunday in the Park With George, but this is the first time I've been moved to tears. On both occasions, I noticed several others discreetly dabbing their eyes. The sold-out Melbourne season was all too short. An interview with Sunday's co-director and Watch This founder Sonya Suares, is HERE. To read a review, go HERE.

Another highlight of my Melbourne sojourn was the Alexander Calder exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria, which I caught just before it ended its long run. I absolutely loved this show and only wish I'd had a chance to visit earlier. Calder's sculptures and the mobiles with which he is most closely associated were well represented, but I was particularly enamoured of his wire sculptures.

The small hotel where I lived and worked for the duration of MIFF is nestled directly behind the grand, historic Windsor Hotel. On one particularly memorable occasion, Shane came to Melbourne for the day and took me out to dinner there. He is pictured below, admiring one of the paintings in the hotel's elegant foyer.

Directly below is an overview of the worktable in my hotel room at the close of MIFF. I'm continuing with the drawings back in Ballarat and will post updates in the near future.

APIARIST and HONEYLAND

Early progress view of Apiarist, 21 x 15 cm. The subject's hair will be braided in a spiral contour.

Before I post more extensively about MIFF 2019, here is an example of the cross-pollination between certain films and the drawings I made during the festival. 

Apiarist, pictured top, was outlined shortly after the screening of my first MIFF film on 2 August, the exquisite Honeyland (directed by Ljubomir Stefanov and Tamara Kotevska, North Macedonia, 2019). Set in the remote mountains of Macedonia, it tells of Hatidze, a beekeeper who cultivates her honey using ancient methods based on close harmony with the natural world, and of the potentially dire consequences when those traditions are disrespected by others.

Fighting back

Ecdysis, acrylic on linen, 50 x 40 cm (progress view)

Currently we’re living amongst debris from our recent move and still face a multitude of tasks before we move house again.

It has been all-consuming, so before it sucked the very life out of us, I determined to restore some much-needed balance.

As a card-carrying cinephile, the highlight of my year is the Melbourne International Film Festival. (See also previous post). However, the move has so dominated our lives, I simply didn’t think I’d have the necessary time or energy for MIFF 2019.

Having reached this low point several weeks back, I decided that no way was I giving up something that immeasurably enriches my life and work and that I look forward to all year. Over the ensuing weeks, I renewed my MIFF membership, organised budget accommodation in central Melbourne and booked a crazy number of films (so much so, I may need to do some culling).

The main thing was, I reclaimed a part of my life, and, more importantly, it didn’t end there. I was about to lose my studio, my work was on hold and its resumption seemed highly unlikely, at least any time soon. So, as previously posted, I staked my claim for a workspace in our third bedroom.

Progress has been slow - but steady progress there has been. The painting Ecdysis (pictured top and seen in its early stages HERE) now nears completion. It has been through numerous awkward transitional stages, and for some time, I despaired of ever bringing it to fruition. Due to constant interruptions, it sometimes hung in limbo for extended periods, which was variously frustrating and nerve wracking. I feel a rare sense of pride and satisfaction to have seen it through to this stage. 

In order to clear a pathway for the future, I'm also developing the makings of further works, with a particular focus on Illustrated Women. The burgeoning body decorations in the work below draw inspiration from William Morris.

Meanwhile, I’m doing my best to turn a blind eye to the disorder that surrounds us. Shane and I remain vigilant about retaining balance in our lives, in the form of films, theatre, music, favourite cafes, gallery visits, meals with friends and of course, games with the ever-effervescent Alice. Selected examples follow.

Come From Away, currently playing at the Comedy Theatre, Melbourne and earning standing ovations at every performance,
will restore your faith in human nature. It's also one of the finest pieces of theatre I've ever seen.

Last Thursday evening, in the basement of The Lost Ones, Ballarat, a superlative trio, Australian-born,
Paris-based jazz vocalist Hetty Kate, guitarist James Sherlock and bassist Ben Hanlon, presented
a selection of gems from the Great American Songbook. We could easily have been in a smoky bar
(but without the smoke) in 1920s, 30s, 40s or 50s Manhattan or Paris. What finer way to celebrate
settlement of the Abbotsford house and our permanent move to Ballarat?
By late October, we'll be living in a house dating from the same period as many of those songs.

Playmates and BFFs, Shane and Alice

I think we’re doing OK.

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.

An update

On the second day of January, this was the painting on my easel. It’s now February 2, and it’s occurred to me that I’ve never posted an update. 

A couple of weeks back, I actually dared to think the work was finished, so much so that I had it documented by the exemplary Tim Gresham (see above). It was only after looking at his photo that I realised I’d made a huge mistake with the braiding. Like most artists, I can sometimes get too close to my work. Often, I find that a photograph gives me some necessary distance, enabling me to focus more clearly and, most crucially, pick up on any glaring errors. 

Making the necessary corrections wasn’t as difficult or invasive as I’d feared. (See top). The work is still not quite done, but getting there, I think.