Swell is an interesting word. It has horrific
overtones in the context of a ballooning body but carries a happier sense as a
response to a questioning greeting like: “How are things going?” In the context
of an ocean, the word holds both senses: the swaying swell that favours the
board rider as it approaches land, and the severe swell that causes loss at sea.
That the word should be used as a name for a sculpture festival is interesting,
but here the context is predetermined: it is by the sea. The sunny beaches,
blue sky and splashing waves at Currumbin on the Gold Coast in Queensland,
Australia create the ambiance for things pleasurable: for swell outcomes beside
the enjoyable swells of surf and creek under a broad open sky and fresh
breezes. Following the idea of Bondi’s Sculpture by the Sea, the Gold
Coast has created its own festival of sculptures along the beach from Currumbin
Creek to Elephant Rock. This year, 2013, there were fifty-three sculptures
installed along the length of this sandy spit and grassy promenade.
The stroll along the ocean esplanade was interesting.
Without a catalogue offering any informing guidance, one never knew what was
coming up. The small catalogue was nicely produced, compact, and carried more information
than was available on the plaques near each work, but the first walk through
without this pocket publication was enjoyable. The eye, mind and body were
unfettered, completely at ease. All preconceptions could be put aside. One
became the proverbial blank page. The return walk with the booklet was of equal
interest as one could seek answers to questions posed during the initial
meandering, and learn more about the works and the uninformed primary responses to them.
The scope of sculptures on display covered nearly all
possibilities. The range of subjects caused one to ponder: they all seemed to
lack matters broad and universal. Each was individual and separate, quirkily
different: narrow in range. Nearly every work related to the artist’s personal experience,
concepts, interpretations, expectations and perceptions. Was this display merely a challenge to highlight
differences? Some works were so obscure that they became more of a cryptic puzzle than
an artwork, distracting one with awkward, questioning diversions. There was no
common theme other than some private involvement, where the artist was
engrossed in his/her own thoughts, ideas and experience. While the vista along
the promenade juxtaposed the sculptures in interesting, visual layers, each work stood
silently alone, encapsulating its own internal efforts to embody an interpretation of
meaning. No work referenced any other; only a few recognised the special
context. It was a display of intimate interiors.
Consider the work that looks like a stone pelican, (or is it
a stork? - in Australia? - does it
matter?), on high legs with an egg nearby: work number 43 by Adriaan (sic)
Vanderlugt called Generation Coal. It must have some meaning for
Adriaan, like the spelling of his name, but how the Baby Boomers are followed
by Generation X and Generation Y, that are in turn followed by ‘Generation
Coal’ remains an enigma with a meaning that one can only guess at. Just what
all this has to do with a pelican or a stork on extra long legs near an egg is
anyone’s guess. The work is so distractingly random and personal that it
becomes quixotic, distorting the aesthetic possibilities and mocking the skill
of the craft.
This emotional confusion is a common feature in many works.
Has art become just too much about ‘me’ and ‘my’? Do we have any shared
experience other than some reflective indulgence that can become a core for
‘discovery’ and ‘expression’ in art? Traditional art was rooted in its search
for meaning where difference and diversity were irrelevant as an aim in works
that used the same ideas, materials and techniques to encompass values that enriched. There
seems to be nothing like this today, just a scattering of personal ideas,
thoughts and ponderings that have become linked to an object or have been annexed to some
form of form. Take number 53 by Andrew Lang called Beach Ranger Tattoo.
Now, without reading the text, one sees a Nolan Ned Kelly form painted in
bright colours and patterns like a Pakistani cab. It is very pretty, but as an
outcome arising from the text, it is merely enigmatic: ‘I collect and
recondition. I combine the past with the present, recycled timber with stories
from legend to create a modern image with hints of familiarity.’ This jumbling
of words and ideas about ‘ME!’ and ‘MY’ occurs frequently, as if art arises
from some revelatory confusion and self-interest, as if it was true that the more enigmatic the experience, the
better the art: the more personally intimate, the greater the meaning. This is a strange
alignment that seems to liken the mystery of inexplicable experience to matters
that are puzzling, vague and incomprehensible, as if the creation of things
formless and fuzzy will necessarily touch unknown issues of rich quality and
meaning. Alas, it turns out that things uncertain and perplexing generate only
more confusion and bewilderment. In the end, the meaning of mystery and the
mystery of meaning may be unclear and untouchable, but they are never
inarticulate or chaotic.
Sadly number 52, Christopher Trotter’s work, Blumbergville
Stationary Engine, lacks the energy, character, concentration and coherence
that his earlier works have in abundance. Here an old Southern Cross pump is
mounted on a nice stand with a few sundry additions, and has been called ‘art.’
Is the artist trying to break away from his skillful anthropomorphic images that
the art world considers, (wrongly), to be just too trite? Trotter’s kangaroos in
George Street Brisbane, for example, show his skill at selecting and positioning identifiable
junk to create life forms with a surprising inner energy arising with the disbelief of
contingency. It is a technique that, in the hands of other less skillful artists, so easily
become the crass ‘Quixote’ cliché assemblages that ask one to read more into a
metal mess than is ever there. I can understand the enthusiasm for these
wonderful old engines that were the reliable workhorses of the outback. They are, like
their windmill cousins, Australian classics. I can recall a journey around a
property many years ago when the task was to fill the tanks of the pumps with
petrol, crank start the motor, and then leave it to unfailingly pump water
until it ran out of fuel. Attaching a pretty phoenix-like bird on a wheel, and
a tractor seat on a pole to this old pump is not art. It looks like a struggle
to grasp meaning through just too much fact and an indulgent surplus of
misguided nostalgia.
Number 51 by Ian Haggerty called Endless Shadows
takes up a theme of figures cut in silhouette from rusty sheet steel, an idea
that was used at Expo 88 (1988) by Melbourne artist Peter D. Cole. Oddly there are no ‘endless
shadows.’ Why do the words try so hard to create a pseudo poetic something that
is never there? While the approach involves an almost cliché, frequently adapted concept, the
rusting shapes did look good on the beach, especially the running dog. This was
one work that improved with its location. It was interesting to see how people
seemed impelled to join the race and assume poses similar to those of the steel
figures, just for a photograph: ‘ME!’
Number 50 by Craig Medson called Spirit Totem is a
stack of 1960’s pieces that remind one of Hepworth et al. ‘Totems’ are just too
overworked in art. Anything vague that seeks meaning or wants to have some
substance applied to it seems to be called a ‘totem’ when it is merely an odd
assemblage of different pieces that look ‘interesting.’ Do artists work just too
hard at assessing their own works, especially the prices: here $18,000? Art is
a complex matter that cunningly involves itself in the uniquely high prices sometimes
achieved at auctions in what appears to be a self-serving manner. The
perception seems to be that all art can be placed in this aura and priced
accordingly, as if necessity demands this to be so if it is labelled ‘art,’ or
if it is to achieve recognition in this category of objects. Anything cheap may
not be considered to be ‘art.’
Flicking through the catalogue list backwards, as we seem to
have started to do, we get the schedule below. Sundry comments have been added
on each work as a quick overview. What is interesting in this transcription is
the psychological twist in most of the works and the oddity of the title. It
almost seems that there is a need for a ‘clever’ title for any work,
irrespective of any relationship with the reality of the experience of the
sculpture. Much the same can be said of the ‘explanatory’ texts where one can
sometimes assume the intent has been to create a self-conscious schism to
stimulate any response with a surprise or a puzzle, rather than to merely make
things too ‘relaxed and comfortable.’ Some of these words appear to be
irrelevant or just garbled nonsense. Why does art seem to demand some exotic
rationalisation that takes issues to extremes of pretentiousness? Why are we
frequently asked to make sense of such inarticulate statements? As for the
psychological matters, this only highlights the core personal side of the
concepts that sometimes seem to intrude or impose too much. There are no great
ideas being worked on here; no common, communal understandings being explored. The
critical issues seem to be that the work must be decorative, uniquely
interesting and different, like the words themselves. There is not much that is
transformative here. The works merely distract both the eye and the mind; such
are the quirky twists on themes that have been entertained. Indeed, some sense
of entertainment appears to be the basis of the intent in most works.
The sculptures remove one from the everyday, for a short
time, and create an odd expectation in how one looks at things. Is that rock an
artwork or landscape? Is the lifesaver’s tower lying on its side part of the
exhibit? Are the people viewing the works part of the show, for they do become
an integral accessory to the whole, a part of the spectacle? Perhaps this is
one aspect of Swell that is encouraging: it stimulates ways of seeing -
(now one always thinks of John Berger’s memorable title). In one aspect the
exhibition can be seen as therapy, an analogy that places the pieces on the
same level as the ink blots in Rorschach tests. Is this
the best we can expect?
Is this the state of art in Australia today? As a morning
out, the visit to Currumbin was an entertaining diversion, different to the
norm and hence of some interest, but as art? Our world is buzzing, spinning in
a chaotic state of change that is escalating in intensity at every turn. Does
art reflect this situation? If one is to get anything positive from Swell,
then it is this: that there are many ways of seeing our world. We need more
tolerance, and peace and calm; more quiet, if we are to endure. Our existence would
be less without such a festival of perception and ideas. Indeed, one might argue that we need more
of the same, for it is only from such experimentation and challenges that
matters of substance can be distilled and agreed upon, albeit unselfconsciously.
One might be critical of the crude and naive attempts to touch quality and meaning, but
our distracting times are not useful, and do not engender cohesion or any common
sense of being. Our era is more interested in creating and marketing gadgets that can sell
in the many millions, or raise that same amount in one weekend, than anything
else. I am thinking of iPhones and blockbuster movies. Such an outcome needs
self-centeredness for its success. ME! is the most important, me and my tats:
the one and only presence in the universe to be so decorated or not - just bespoke ME! Look at ME!
It is up to us to generate something richer and more
substantial than this ephemeral indulgent selfishness and greed that is out of
date, used, and creating discontent the very next day after the enthusiastic
purchase or viewing, when the next, (always better), generation gadget or
experience is being promoted, leaving ME! behind again, wanting to catch up. If
Swell can help change this indulgent and irresponsible attitude to life and
its living, then it will be a great success. We need to learn from such
encounters and use these experiences to develop rigour and strength in our
personal lives, for it is only from this distilled base that larger matters,
bigger and better things, can be created. Tolerance and care are involved, and
individual responsibility too.
OVERVIEW
THE SWELL LIST 2013
53 Andrew
Lang Beach Ranger Tattoo
see text above.
52 Christopher
Trotter Blumbergville Stationary
Engine
see text above.
 |
| The sculptures in their context |
51 Ian
Haggerty Endless Shadows
see text above.
50 by Craig Medson called Spirit Totem
see text above: see also 30 also called Totem
seemingly in the absence of any other sense.
49 Claire
Sewell Iron Man
a tiny sitting figure made from pieces of pipe, a little
decorative piece like Michelin man – why the pun?
48 Monte Lup Mermaid
pottery and tiled blobs making a figure half buried in sand
and foliage – why mermaid? : a rockery?
47 Vanessa
Stanley Your Time Machine (2013)
a crude tube lined in mirrors in the form of a telescope to
peer through; it seems that the principle of the kaleidoscope is not
understood: or is it trying to suggest that ordinary life is interesting? –
time machine?
46 Scott
Maxwell WM11 (Walking Man Too – Money Man)
a Giacometti figure made from paper money (photocopied?) –
why? Giacometti’s work is better.
45 Jilly Gray Salty
Pears
a pun on a pair (pear/twin) of breasts in a bikini that
falls flat, lacking depth – we should remember that the pun is the lowest form
of humour.
44 Allen
Horstmanshof Bloodlines
a more serious piece in cut and partly polished stone with
some red lines – meaning is difficult to capture with strength and sincerity,
is spite of the ambitious intent.
43 Adriaan
Vanderlugt Generation Coal
see text above – what does it mean?
42 Wayne
Mazwort Warhorse
a Trojan horse made from timber scrap – an interesting piece
for perception but the original Warhorse puppets are difficult to better: they
move too!
41 Kim
Namenyi Believe
a giant sand castle – what is one to believe: the price?
$15,000. Is this a return to things big in Australia? Why not bigger? Better?
40 The Winged
Collective Falcini & Gottgens The
Sirens
printed heads on metallic sheet placed in sand with mirror
reverse – there is something too intellectual here to convince; the mirror
reverse in interesting, perhaps better than the faces; certainly more
intriguing.
39 Kirsty
Foley-Lewis & Matt Fischer Sunshine
pretty spheres playing with colour, translucency and shade –
sunshine? Here the sheer effort gets admired more than the experience.
38 Adrian Hofmann
Pigs do Fly!
a flying pink pig on a stick: with lipstick too! – what is
one to think other than ‘strange’ as one recalls the American politician’s
words and the old cliché?
37 Brian
Bertram Witnesses
a cluster of carved timbers; the text is enigmatic – it is
the dictionary definition of witness, n., . . Is one being asked to supply the
content here?
36 Leonie
Rhodes Uncle Jack Charles –
Significantly Small 2013
a small figure in a glass box framed in rusting steel on a
post embodying an Aboriginal story. One can appreciate the concept by its
mechanics more than the emotional experience.
35 Greg
Quinton Every Breath
coloured balls in a wire mesh frame moving in the wind asks
one to see the arrangement as such. It struggles to be more than this.
 |
| The winning caravan 'sculpture' in the centre of the image |
34 Chris
Bennie The Kissing Swans
the winner! A wrecked caravan from the Bundaberg floods. Why
does art take the results of a tragedy and try to turn it into something to be
sold for $75,150, even after getting grants from three government bodies. What
is going on here? Yes, the swans are wonderful, but this has been someone’s
life, now gone. Too artful? Is there a cringe here that drives promotion to
confirm expenditures? One recalls how O. Ghery builds the results of disasters
as new ‘architecture.’
33 John Fitzmaurice Ode to Huey
a Hepworth wave form in mirror finish. It seems to promote a
combination of 60’s clichés.
32 Suzi
Lucas Irrelevant Information
lots of old DVDs on poles with eastern hookahs etc. - ? Yes,
lots of DVDs. It reminds one of the roundabouts in the United Arab Emirates.
31 Ashleigh
Cotterill Death by Fluoro
four old chairs wrapped in bright pink plastic rope
$2,195.00 – this tests the limits of art and the tolerance of the public as
much as the caravan. Do we blame Christo for such works or Marcel Duchamp?
30 Alex Polo
& Michael Dowling Totem
another totem but these rusting steel screens are very
pretty – nice shadows. Strangely they look much better in the photographic
image than in life.
29 Ibrahim
Koc Chameleon
a lovely chameleon but he looks lost, struggling to find
home. Does this say something about all of the works?
28 Rosie
Harvest Beachcomber
a tangle of wood and vines that suggests a figure – it keeps
one guessing, seeing tangles and body forms in the shambles, but there remains
a lingering dissatisfaction with the effort.
27 Scott
Ingram Dahlia
scratched stone with an organic-shaped polished strip. A
flower? A lot of effort is needed to make this leap.
26 Steve
Croquett Unearthed
Easter Island heads in steel – why?
25 Anne Leon Fabulous Flying Fish
Japanese flying fish – here $300.00 each. These are standard
fare in Japan but are being promoted differently here. Why can we not accept
these as beautiful traditional kites rather than a unique work of art?
24 Jules Hunt Bodhi Tree
oddly shaped suspended metallic ceramic forms do not remind
one of the distinctive leaf; or the tree - and the bird? Corbusier’s bird at
Ronchamp is richer.
23 Eric
Green Conception
the text talks about a stylised egg - ? A 60’s form that could
be a ‘totem’
22 Mike Van
Dam Degrees of Separation
stainless steel chain made from stainless steel chain – 750
metres of it! Craft and concept have rigour and strength, a cohesion that is
admirable, as is the craft. It seems to demand a corporate location.
21 Brad
Jackson Blue Wren
the poor wren looks like it has a falcon hood over its head
– the paper folds need closer inspection and a more sensitive resolution. Are
origami forms are becoming too fashionable? The question of copyright is
interesting.
20 Dave
Hickson All the World’s a Stage
a roughly made assemblage like a small stage set; so?
Shakespeare?
19 Karl de
Waal City Farming
a pile of trash (real construction trash) with two very tiny
model farms (grass; trees; people; cows) on two slabs of smashed concrete under
umbrellas – two of many concrete chunks in the pile: it tests the viewing and
reminds one of Turner Prize trash
18 Andrew
Cullen Swarm
do flies swarm? Attractive flies made of wire and painted
black: they just are flies. One recalls Craig Fellows printed designs.
17 Luke
Zwolsman Ascension
Hepworth in style – stone that has been given a title
16 Mike
MacGregor The Binding Tree
a tree form covered in cut-out hands – very pretty shadows,
like Aboriginal wall painting. The shadows are powerful. Is this the work?
15 Dion
Parker Colourful Mind
a skull in halves with coloured checkerboard interior - ??
Too literal with little magic or intrigue. What is mind? What is man, that thou
art mindful of him? (Psalm 8, 4-6 KJV).
14 Antone
Bruinsma Meditation of the Heart of
a Flower – Homage to Monet
flower forms in sandstone – poor Monet; poor flowers. Mass
takes over form: c.f. ‘the form of the rose is the function of the rose; the
function of the rose is the form of the rose’ (Louis Sullivan).
13 Liu
Yonggang Embrace of Love
ancient Chinese characters large in steel – what does one
do? Admire the size or the message? The size of the message?
12 Erica
Gray I’m waiting for you
a bike and a dog tied to it, made from white fabric – at least
it is humorous, especially when a dog goes up to in and checks things out! Art?
Artful?
11 Georges
Cuvillier De oogst (The Harvest)
Harvesting bamboo?? What is this? How does one look at this
other than ‘interestingly’? Is the ambition: a thing of interest is a joy
forever? - (apologies to Keats).
10 Lisa de Boer Under
the Tree
Gone, broken glass – glass does not make good public art.
09 Rainer Schlueter
Blue Dancers – Prelude and Quintet
sticks in sand painted bright blue create a challenge for the
viewer, as does the price: $12,500. The blue is good. Is one to supply the
substance for the idea?
08 Andrea
King Feeding Aftermath
pretty ceramic spheres made to look like crab pellets
expelled from their holes in the sand, set out in circles – thoughtful and
quietly impressive: truly a beach work.
 |
| Sculpture? |
07 John Cox Blue Perspective
plastic bikini girl with surfboard – all blue from the
bikini pants up - ? Why?
06 Leisa Russell Tumbling
Tides
spheres with things stuck over them. They lack the ephemeral
nature of tidal change nicely named ‘shormal’ in Shetland dialect.
05 Ivan Lovatt Curious
Bird
a marvellous emu made from galvanised wire mesh – beautiful.
It has something of the early Trotter work that impresses. It feels oddly
uneasy standing in the beach sand.
04 Marie-France
Rose Blown Away
it hardly blows one away, but the dog is good.
03 Daniel
Clemmett Two dogs in a house on a
boat in the water
no dogs, just a stylised, quirky house boat. More
information is needed to comprehend this effort.
02 Glen Manning
& Kathy Daly Reclining Figure in
the Landscape
an outline of a Henry Moore reclining figure in one bent
pipe. At $25,800, the price is more impressive than the work!
01 Jim Bower Water Birds
birds shaped in steel bars – beautiful outlines in the
landscape. They look wonderful in the photographs of the seaside. Nicely, they
are on sale only as pairs, as if they are all ‘friends.’
