Australian and New Zealand Journal of Art最新文献

{"title":"Rusty Peters (1935–2020)","authors":"P. Adsett","doi":"10.1080/14434318.2020.1837383","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837383","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":29864,"journal":{"name":"Australian and New Zealand Journal of Art","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.1,"publicationDate":"2020-07-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837383","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"47548718","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Olive Cotton: A Life in Photographs","authors":"M. Edmond","doi":"10.1080/14434318.2020.1837382","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837382","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":29864,"journal":{"name":"Australian and New Zealand Journal of Art","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.1,"publicationDate":"2020-07-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837382","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"46324072","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Ulli Beier, the Aboriginal Arts Board and Aboriginal Self-Determination","authors":"Marie Geissler","doi":"10.1080/14434318.2020.1837380","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837380","url":null,"abstract":"‘The dawn is at hand’, declared Kath Walker (Oodgeroo Noonuccal). This declaration served as the title of a poem and of her book of poems published in 1966. The dawn at hand was her dream of a postcolonial Australia. In the mid-1960s, her poems struck such a chord with the Australian public that they helped make her Australia’s bestselling poet. More extraordinarily, an Aboriginal person was articulating a rising Australian consciousness—a groundswell of hope that united many Australians around the idea that amends could be made for the nation’s original sin against the country’s Indigenous peoples. This groundswell culminated in the ninety-one per cent vote for constitutional change in the 1967 Referendum, which had been called by the Holt Liberal government. By including Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people in the population of the nation, the passing of the referendum gave them the legal rights of other Australians to self-determination. Preparation for Australia’s journey of national deliverance began immediately after the referendum and was put into full swing with the election of the Whitlam Labor government in December 1972. The Whitlam government launched a veritable cultural revolution, of which the Aboriginal Arts Board (AAB), which is the subject of this essay, was just one small aspect of its path to delivering Indigenous self-determination and also a new Australian cultural consciousness. Translating constitutional change into social practice, however, was an altogether more difficult task. If the ideal of self-determination provided a clear and noble vision, its practical realisation inadvertently created numerous new problems. There were many reasons for this. Because the nation had been founded on the exclusion, if not extermination or extinction, of the Indigenous population, a racist mindset penetrated the deepest recesses of its psyche, social habits, and ideological practices. As the Aboriginal activist Gary Foley discovered, government departmental regulations honed by years of institutional racism and","PeriodicalId":29864,"journal":{"name":"Australian and New Zealand Journal of Art","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.1,"publicationDate":"2020-07-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837380","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"44038162","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Marcel’s Blagues: Duchamp’s Linguistic Jokes","authors":"Lyn Merrington","doi":"10.1080/14434318.2020.1837372","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837372","url":null,"abstract":"Thomas Girst laments, in The Duchamp Dictionary, ‘most writing on Duchamp introduces humour as an afterthought, at best playing lip service to what was for him “a great power” and “liberation”’. Perhaps, Girst thought, ‘Humour, by definition, escapes the seriousness of scholarly scrutiny, yet it is through humour that Duchamp questions its very raison d’être’. While agreeing with Girst’s general point, I will argue that Duchamp’s humour isn’t particularly aimed at debunking scholarly scrutiny—as if his humour is a form of anti-intellectualism—but has the positive purpose of establishing the raison d’̂etre of his art. The reason it has been overlooked is less the humourlessness of scholars and more the theoretical turn that art took in the 1960s, with the advent of conceptual art and its paradigms largely framing the reception of Duchamp’s art. Much of Duchamp’s humour has been overlooked in favour of highly complex and theoretical readings of his work, following his adoption by art theorists as an historical anchor for many different contemporary (post-1960s) art forms. Larry Witham rhetorically asks: ‘had Duchamp really invented just about everything in Contemporary art?’ To Duchamp’s amusement, fame came late. While he had a small, loyal, even cult, following in American surrealist circles, the mainstream art world considered Duchamp a relatively minor artist for most of his life. His luck turned in the 1960s, with a new generation of conceptual artists. A 2004 survey of artists and art professionals acknowledged him as the most important artist in the twentieth century. Further, the scholarship has for the most part taken place in the United States, an Anglophone environment that easily misses the subtle linguistic ironies that drive his humour. Consequently, contemporary scholarship of Duchamp tends to earnestly understand his visual art practice, rather than laugh with its jokes.","PeriodicalId":29864,"journal":{"name":"Australian and New Zealand Journal of Art","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.1,"publicationDate":"2020-07-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837372","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"43025485","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Kate Daw (1965–2020)","authors":"Jenepher Duncan","doi":"10.1080/14434318.2020.1846990","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/14434318.2020.1846990","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":29864,"journal":{"name":"Australian and New Zealand Journal of Art","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.1,"publicationDate":"2020-07-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/14434318.2020.1846990","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"46891232","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Brook Andrew, 22nd Biennale of Sydney: NIRIN, Art Gallery of New South Wales, Artspace, Campbelltown Arts Centre, Cockatoo Island, Museum of Contemporary Art, National Art School (Reopened at Carriageworks), 2020, 14 March–6 September 2020","authors":"U. Rey","doi":"10.1080/14434318.2020.1837381","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837381","url":null,"abstract":"Brook Andrew’s 22nd Biennale of Sydney came with great expectations, and for a mounting tide of reviews it delivered the edge it promised. Seizing the urgency of our time, hope, the man and the moment collide in Andrew’s 2020 vision. Though he ardently denies alpha-authority—widely promoting the project as artist and First Nations-led–don’t be fooled by methodology: with visual panache and savvy exhibition design, the ‘Look-is-Brook’, Artistic Director par excellence. Weeks out from the opening, Andrew wrote to international artists reassuring them that Sydney was ‘safe to visit’. At the time, he was referring to the summer’s ‘unprecedented’ fires, but none predicted the pandemic on the horizon or the biennale’s eight week closure. Nor would anyone imagine how ‘I can’t breathe’ would shift from bushfire smoke to corona-virus respiratory failure and then the chilling refrain of the Black Lives Matter campaign. Such cataclysmic events will forever bracket this biennale, which reads in retrospect like a predictive sign of our times. And if timing is Andrew’s forte, temporality is his medium. He treats the expanded exhibition’s form as a vehicle to slip between past, present and future, thereby folding history into the contemporary, from colonial catastrophe to the shattered now. NIRIN, meaning ‘edge’ in the Wiradjuri language of Andrew’s maternal country, spans six sites across which multi-sensory works of spatial, cultural, environmental and biological difference are cannily displayed and performed. As a connecting device, Indigenous language and relational exchange become the poetic coda, made explicit in NIRIN’s seven Wiradjuri-named themes: Dhaagun (Earth: Sovereignty and Working Together); Bagaray-Bang (Healing); YirawyDhuray (Yam-Connection: Food); Gurray (Transformation); Muriguwal Giiland (Different Stories); Ngawaal-Guyungan (Powerful-Ideas: The Power of Objects) and Bila (River: Environment). Despite NIRIN’s ‘non-hierarchical web of connections’, my custom is (still) to enter the BoS at its native home, the sandstone pile of the Art Gallery of NSW (though the BoS’s birthplace was a stone’s-throw north in the wings of the Sydney Opera House). This temple on the hill offers the low hanging fruit, beginning in the neoclassical vestibule where Wiradjuri star Karla Dickens’s Dickensian Circus","PeriodicalId":29864,"journal":{"name":"Australian and New Zealand Journal of Art","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.1,"publicationDate":"2020-07-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837381","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"46406185","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Fabulous Retroactivity: Time and Colonialism in Gordon Bennett’s Possession Island","authors":"D. Manderson","doi":"10.1080/14434318.2020.1837378","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837378","url":null,"abstract":"Introduction Before his untimely death in 2014, not yet aged sixty, Gordon Bennett produced a body of work that must surely count among the most careful and comprehensive reflections on the colonial project undertaken by an Australian artist. His paintings unpack the complex temporal logic that underpinned Australian colonialism, focusing on the central role played by images in colonialism’s construction and legitimation. Unlike, for example, several Australian prime ministers I could mention, Bennett refuses to consign these events to the past, to some concluded historical moment. He demonstrates how the images and visual tropes of colonial representation still form, on some imaginary or subconscious level, a fundamental backdrop to the legitimacy of the Australian legal and political order. In his Home D ecor series (1995–2010), in Terra Nullius (Teaching Aid) As Far as the Eye Can See (1993), and, as we will see, in several versions of Possession Island (fig. 1) painted in 1991, Bennett’s art explores tropes of the colonial imaginary without letting the viewer off the hook. He represents, satirises, and critiques the colonial past’s fantasies of whiteness and blackness, and the crucial role they played in the construction of the Australian state and Australian identity. But we are not permitted to indulge our voyeuristic or nostalgic urges about that past under the protective alibi of our supposed distance from it. That distance he radically foreshortens. Several major contemporary Indigenous artists—Judy Watson and Fiona Foley, among others—describe their art practice in terms of truth-telling or historical research: ‘History’, says Foley, ‘is a weapon’. Bennett approached the problem of Australian memory differently. He chose to excavate not ‘Aboriginal history’ as ‘facts’, but rather representations of that history in the visual archive of Australian colonialism. His raw materials are paintings, drawings, stamps, old newspapers, and school textbooks, a host of fantasies and delusions that nourished and","PeriodicalId":29864,"journal":{"name":"Australian and New Zealand Journal of Art","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.1,"publicationDate":"2020-07-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837378","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"48548590","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"When Manufacturing Workers Make Sculpture: Creative Pathways in the Context of Australian Deindustrialisation","authors":"J. Stein","doi":"10.1080/14434318.2020.1837374","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837374","url":null,"abstract":"Introduction: Engineering Patternmaking The subjects of this article are not ordinarily discussed in writing about Australian art. For that matter, the subjects of this article are not ordinarily discussed at all, in almost any discipline. The subjects in question are engineering patternmakers— and patternmaking is now a relatively obscure industrial trade. From the midnineteenth to the late twentieth centuries, patternmakers performed a fundamental role in pre-production for metal casting and also, by the mid-twentieth century, for a variety of plastics manufacturing methods. The trade produced the threedimensional forms that were necessary for moulds to be successfully produced. Patternmakers were not designers, since in their industrial roles they did not generate the original ideas for the forms to be manufactured. But neither were they production-line workers: their hands did not touch the finished products, and their work was rarely repetitive. Working from engineering drawings, patternmakers planned and produced the three-dimensional shapes used to generate mass-produced objects, usually using wood, but also resin, fibreglass, plaster, or metal. Alongside toolmakers, patternmakers made the forms for everything that was cast or moulded: from large earthmoving equipment to Tupperware containers, from glucose sweets to a car’s rear-vision mirror. In essence, patternmakers physically generated the original forms expressive of twentieth-century mass-production and consumerism. But to be a patternmaker who is also an artist? That is another thing altogether. The patternmakers discussed in this article are not examined in relation to their industrial work. Instead, I engage with the deindustrialised aftermath, when many patternmakers have shifted out of the manufacturing industry and into more creative endeavours. This article reveals how, for some patternmakers, their art practice can be seen as an assertion of technical, craft-based mastery in a context that no longer values their trade skills. For others, moving from patternmaking to art has fulfilled","PeriodicalId":29864,"journal":{"name":"Australian and New Zealand Journal of Art","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.1,"publicationDate":"2020-07-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837374","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"41329605","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Indonesian Artivism: Layers of Performativity and Connectivity","authors":"Edwin Jurriëns","doi":"10.1080/14434318.2020.1837377","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837377","url":null,"abstract":"Introduction Artivism, a contraction of art and activism, has been described as the first new art form of the twenty-first century. But what is artistic, new, or twenty-first century about it? This article seeks to critically address this question by focusing on Indonesian environmental activism, particularly the pioneering socially engaged art of Moelyono (b. 1957) since the 1980s and the campaigns ‘Melawan Asap’ (Fighting the Haze) and ‘Save Rimbang Baling’ in the province of Riau, central eastern Sumatra, since 2014. The environmental campaigns in Riau have been steered by local artist Heri Budiman (b. 1971) and the art centre and collective Rumah Budaya Siku Keluang (The Siku Keluang Cultural House, established in 2010). They have been directly inspired by Moelyono and artivism from other regions in Indonesia, including West Java. I seek to demonstrate that in Indonesian environmental art and artivism the entanglement between art and activism produces the performativity and connectivity needed to move people and to effect change both within and beyond the art world. I try to show that art in Indonesian artivism is not limited to a singular object or action, but is spatially and temporarily dispersed across various platforms and shaped by a diverse group of actors. In Moelyono’s work and the environmental campaigns in Sumatra, art can be found in layers and combinations of contemporary and traditional media; (semi-)institutionalised and independent creative projects, spaces and networks; and various forms of engagement with government. Both individually and collectively, the creative platforms facilitate performativity and connectivity for reclaiming public space, redefining urbanity and economic development, and promoting environmental sustainability. The history and multilayeredness of Indonesian environmental art complicates common perceptions and scholarly critique of the nature, scope, and impact of artivism.","PeriodicalId":29864,"journal":{"name":"Australian and New Zealand Journal of Art","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.1,"publicationDate":"2020-07-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837377","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"41916911","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Dignity and Futility: Art and Labour in a Post-Industrial World","authors":"G. McQuilten","doi":"10.1080/14434318.2020.1837375","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837375","url":null,"abstract":"On May Day in 2018, artist Ceri Hann sat on a small stool in a large domed room at the Mission to Seafarers, a community building on the docks of Melbourne that provides support to visiting ship-workers, and methodically stamped the words ‘OF WORK OF ART’ onto hundreds of circular metal washers. The small objects were then gifted to visitors and passers-by as a means to start a conversation about the relationship between work, labour, and artistic practice. The circular nature of the metal disc meant that the phrase could be interpreted in many different ways: ‘OF WORK, OF ART’, in one reading, or ‘WORK OF ART’ in another, or perhaps even ‘ART OF WORK’. This unclear or open readability of the words was emphasised in the way that the artist stamped the words backwards, so they could only be ‘read’ clearly when reflected in a mirror or other reflective surface. After several hours, Hann packed up his gear, and nothing remained of the performative work other than the circulating objects, which, like material currency these days, are of questionable value. The performance brought together physical work and industrial production in a public display of human labour, although without any obvious economic purpose or gain. These were not objects that could be easily sold or traded, nor were they being produced as part of an industrial process that would generate any other tangible products or outcomes. The backward printing of the text made the objects even harder to consume or read as ‘branding’ for the artist or the performance. The performance epitomised the futility of work and labour as we move from an industrial to a post-industrial society, where human labour is increasingly understood as inefficient, flawed, and unproductive compared to the work of machines and computers (as simplistic as this may seem). The artist’s performance also captured the futility of work and labour for many artists who live below the poverty line. Taking Hann’s performative work OF WORK OF ART as a starting provocation, this article explores the work of several contemporary Australian artists whose different approaches to labour address the simultaneous dignity and futility of waged labour in a post-industrial society. In his book Rise of the Robots: Technology and the Threat of a Jobless Future (2015), American futurist Martin Ford presents a vision of a world where work is on the brink of becoming immaterial, a","PeriodicalId":29864,"journal":{"name":"Australian and New Zealand Journal of Art","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.1,"publicationDate":"2020-07-02","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/14434318.2020.1837375","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"48475684","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}