Sculpture in the city

 We are still in the city. Coogee baths as the sun sparkles on the water.

One of my hopes for our stay was to be able to visit a sculpture at St Jude's Anglican Church Cemetery in Randwick.

Several years ago (code for before Covid) my friend Tory Richards won a competition to make a sculpture which celebrated the immense contribution of the women of the St Jude's community over 150 years.  You can imagine that most plaques and statues celebrate the men.

Tory's sculpture represents and celebrates everywoman I think, and involves three women in conversation, in sharing, in giving, in receiving, and in harmony with nature.

I was honoured to be one of the models for the work. The work does not attempt to make us realistic - rather we are the basis for the women portrayed. Two of Tory's other friends also modelled for her; and one night after dinner at Tory's Barry stepped in and stood with his feet in the right direction for Tory to use as part of the base for the sculpture!

We walked along and caught a glimpse of the beautiful patina through the fence. We knew we had found 'the girls'.

No prizes for guessing I was the model for the tallest woman, back in the day when my hair was a short bob.

I loved the way the petals and fruit had dropped, and the shadows played with these feet and shoes.

Here, my friend Steph, is gifting me a rose...

And on the shoulder of Tory's other friend, rests this beautiful wee bird.

The folds in my dress... so fluid in the hard metal.

This is one of the most amazing features for me. When I looked down at the feet of the woman I modelled, I realised Tory had actually cast my feet! My right foot little toe is shaped JUST like that and tucks under just so... what attention to detail.

And these stunning eucalypts, just beginning to flower on our walk home.

Such a joy to be able to view the sculpture, so wonderful to see the contribution of generations of women celebrated, and so honoured to have played a small part in it

A trip to Maryborough - Impressed!

 Barry and I were recently invited to participate in a printmaker's show at Maryborough. The exhibition is called Impressed, and is on at Gataker's Art Space in Maryborough throughout February. 

The venue is beautiful and our friend Ken Munsie has a solo exhibition downstairs at the same time which is lovely - really worth a visit.

So we drove up to deliver our work a week or so ago. Here is our before shot - laugh!

Maryborough was a very important port and has a fabulous river-side precinct with traditional buildings and lots of public art. They also installed a war memorial in their gardens recently and I was very taken with it in so many ways.  Here are a few of the pieces that caught me.

This is only a small part of the war memorial which is truly beautiful - rusted corten posts curving across, with terraces reflecting the cliffs at Gallipoli.  All beautifully wrought - but it was this fragment of contrast that is my reminder point of the whole.

As you wander through the gardens, there is a path with movement activated voice-stories as well as these sculptures.  Charles Bean's diary, glasses, typewriter and the beginnings of his manuscripts.

I looked across as this woman's form from behind and I thought, she is reading that someone has died. When I faced her I thought maybe she is just reading news from the front; but her posture still speaks of the distance and the dread.

In the concrete path barbed wire was etched along with other map lines of the western front.

It was a beautiful place to visit, reflect and remember. There are just so many pieces of public art from Mary Poppins to posts to stones, to street lights, to murals...

And across the way in an almost falling down building I found part of a wall stitched together with wire.

A short but fabulous visit.

Hidden extras from Fibres West

At the end of the week each of the classes at Fibres West presents their work.  It is always an amazing and stunning display of what people have achieved through the week.

I visited each of the other classes' work and managed to get some photos from half of them (don't ask me what I was doing for the rest of the time - brain freeze apparently).

Here are a few favourite images from those I managed to photograph - apologies for no attribution.

Click here for the tutor's and workshop information.

This piece is from Alysn's class - heat applied to stainless steel fabric I think.

Some of the brushes made in Lorna's class.

Some marks from Lorna's class I think!

Some sculptural pieces from Mo's class.

Fabulous felting from Eva's class.

On the drive back to Perth we detoured to look at the silo murals in Northam  and I loved these ones.

A wonderful art-filled week!

Waiheke artwork

You probably couldn't get further away from each other in terms of the weather - from Waiheke Island off Auckland in mid-Summer to the northern-most tip of Scotland in mid-Winter; but the landscape is similar - islands, water, and beauty.

When we visited Waiheke for Barry's birthday, I was truly taken by a piece of public art.  We first came across it outside the fabulous Library - it was on the windows of a Learning Centre. At first I didn't really think of it as public art; it looked like something nifty an enthusiastic tutor had stencilled on the window.

The words "Before I die..." were big enough and bold enough to grab my attention. I moved in closer to see what had been written in the dash.

It says "learn something new."

I loved it and felt positive and uplifted by it.

The next day we wandered past the same building, but on another side, and came across more stencils. They were smaller this time but equally intriguing. 

By this stage I was still thinking it was a clever engagement idea by the Learning Centre; almost marketing and promotion in a way. All about learning something new, learning Italian and how to use Google Drive. It made me smile.

The next day however, we walked around the building in a third direction and I was bowled over the boldness of the work.

In many ways, the first three words could be part of any creative writing course, but something changes when you stencil them boldy onto a wall; and offer chalk and markers for folk to use to fill in the dash.  It becomes interactive art; it becomes a way of sharing hopes and dreams; it changes, morphs and is renewed.  People come back to see what else has been dreamed of; people tick off their dreams.

There were  a few cheeky ones in there; but mostly they spoke about hopes for families and children; of dreams for individuals to live happy and love-filled lives; and to care for animals and the environment.

I loved the positivity I saw on the wall and on the windows.  I loved that those three words had encouraged folk to think about what mattered to them and what they hoped for.

It made me think how would I fill that dash?  What things are so important to me that I'd dare to write them on a public wall and 'say them out loud"?

Whoever designed it and did it (no attribution I could see) - my thanks.

Going back in time...

We are away at the moment, so I have gone back in time to another trip earlier in the year.

We visited the National Arboretum in Canberra for the first time in April and it was stunning.

Not only are the mass plantings inspired; but the discovery of art and sculpture in between and around the corner and on top of hills was a real delight.

As you enter the building, these great walls of rock are interrupted with lovey etched corten steel panels.

Atop a hill you find Nest III by Richard Moffatt.

On the hand rails at the lookout are all these beautifully etched plant images.

My real favourite - wide brown land by Marcus Tatton, Chris Viney and Futago.

Each word amazingly wrought in a single line of twisted steel.

A calligraphic ribbon...