Twixting

There's not enough room in my house [2005] Jennifer Newton
cardboard, paint, taxidermied albino & part-albino Australian finches

In comments for a previous post, "Artlink", a certain image was mentioned, as promised, the skank has rummaged and found it (above). The image is of a work from an exhibition held during the 2005 South Australian Living Artists festival.....


Be, twixt.
in a midway position
A space between reality and fiction;
neither one thing nor the other
What appears to be and what is hidden.

A state of transition.

Leigh Corrigan, Curator


Be,twixt, a group exhibition at CACSA's Project Space 29 July - 4 Sept 2005 and curated by Leigh Corrigan,featured the work of Hans Kreiner, Jennifer Newton, Leigh Corrigan and Greg Ansell.


Betwixt the leaves of sight
an interval, in a small space for a short time

catalogue essay
by Skanky Jane
2005


In this wilderness, with only a Mobius strip for a map, the uncertainty of wandering from one oasis to another may cause some to wish they’d never come. A window, points of light in a sky absent of stars gradually focusing and growing in brightness until the image of a great shimmering web drifts upon the sky, as upon an open sea, and I am overwhelmed by an acute sense of temporality. If it was a web. The image shimmered and rippled before disappearing out of existence, leaving me alone with an echo of its light-pulse winking behind my eyes.

chaos and death
whale’s song

a cautionary childhood fable
two restless, fetching pre-teens
a music box
and to live happily ever after

Zone [2005] (detail) Hans Kreiner
reinforced plastic sheeting

Tween [2005] Hans Kreiner
painted pine, nylon rope

Zone [2005] Hans Kreiner
reinforced plastic sheeting

Zone [2005] Hans Kreiner
reinforced plastic sheeting

The(m) Articulate(d) Savage(d) 2
Who s Thomas
Freed Senses
[2005] Greg Ansell
mixed media

The(m) Articulate(d) Savage(d) 2
Who s Thomas
Freed Senses
(detail) [2005] Greg Ansell
mixed media

A faint illumination (light-rays in space tracing out a cone), and a strange fluid or buoyant force, much less than that of water, filling the room. Hallucination and reality appear as equal and indistinguishable partners. The hyper-real collides with the fantastic and, for a moment, reflected in the mirrored surface of a spherical triangle; I appear in an alien landscape mapping events in spacetime. I strain to see through the surface, to understand what is there, but the mirror resists penetration. My own consciousness and the trilinear coordinates of the mirror meld into some weird, lopsided ménage-à-trois until all that remains is an impression of smooth, cool surfaces submerged beneath an enigmatic emotional reality. My eyes become two watery orbs and drip.

Heidi sews
Grandfather whittles

Euclid postulates

Crying man mourns for the trees (detail) [2005] Jennifer Newton
soap, plasticine, paint, plastic googly eyes, cardboard

Crying man mourns for the trees [2005] Jennifer Newton
soap, plasticine, paint, plastic googly eyes, cardboard

There's not enough room in my house [2005] Jennifer Newton
cardboard, paint, taxidermied albino & part-albino Australian finches

Morning and evening make up the days as time slips by. Light and air are like reflecting mirrors in this waste, in the wilderness. I charge my eyes to tell the truth yet misshapen images constantly appear in unexpected places, in unexpected lights and colours, holding the appearance of reality perhaps for hours, and then gradually fading like a stereopticon picture - melting from the bottom to the top - into the sky. Any little patch of shadow is welcome here especially when climbing the floodlit mountains. If one could climb very high, beyond the atmospheric envelope perhaps, the sun might appear only as a shining point of light in a blue-black background. I wander on in banausic occupation.

Song to the Siren (detail) [2005] Leigh Corrigan
dust, pencil

Song to the Siren (detail) [2005] Leigh Corrigan
dust, pencil

Muse [2005] Leigh Corrigan
tracing paper, dust, flower arrangement wire
(inset showing another view of the same work)

A miles-wide stardust plume trails the icy body of a comet and a planet is seeded with space dust


Mulling over events in my mind I was able to determine that elapsed time is a private issue; there is no universal way to slice it up, and light is more fundamental than time and space. I had learned that dust from China's Gobi desert is sometimes transported across the Pacific in sufficient quantities to cause brown skies in Seattle. I also understood that there are three classes of constant curvature in everyday intuition. Identities shift, merge and replicate and the story is revealed in successive spirals of allusive and elusive stratification.

a gaggle of schoolgirls
an orchestra of deranged flutists and mad pipers

Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva
Gödel, Escher, Bach
Einstein, Podolsky, Rosen

Despite my fears, nothing of that sort happened, although, a few dangling threads still leave me perplexed.


Be,twixt - installation views