Last week a carload of us made our way to Murray Bridge to see the opening of in situ and Ngarrindjeri Expressions at the Murray Bridge Regional Gallery, where both exhibitions will be open from May 22 to July 19 2015.
The night’s events began with a series of dances and songs by Uncle Major Sumner and some young Ngarrindjeri dancers. It was a great opening for two exhibitions so powerfully about land and place. Ngarrindjeri Expressions brings together works by Damien Shen and portraits by local Ngarrindjeri people who came to community workshops to learn Damien’s drawing process. The exhibition also includes lithographs and photographs by Damien Shen and a video of Damien drawing his uncle (in both the literal and Indigenous sense) Major Sumner–25 hours of drawing condensed into 15 minutes of video, which had many people transfixed. I didn’t have permission to photograph Ngarrindjeri Expressions–but I was kindly granted permission to photograph in situ.
Behind the dancers and speakers hung two large works that drew my eye more and more as the night wore on. This is Looking Up/Looking Down by Dorothy Caldwell (Hastings, Canada). It brought to mind a landscape seen from above, in which massive features of the landscape below appear as much smaller shapes and patches of colour.
Indoor lighting doesn’t suit my skills or camera–so these pictures do not do justice to the colours of the originals. But the smaller details in this work in contrasting colours have been stitched in ways that reminded some of us of rain and others of the stalks/trunks of plants in the wind.
This patch had me in mind of a dam receding in the face of drought. You can see more of Dorothy’s work and read about her approach at her web site here.
The Story Blanket by Imbi Davidson (North East Coast, New South Wales) is indeed based on a blanket which has been embellished, patched and augmented over time. The eco-prints of leaves on the left and right panels managed to evoke footprints travelling through sand for me, despite clearly being leaf prints. The central panel had been stitched with concentric semi circles that are not obvious in this photo–these and the panels of buttons on the mid and lower right side brought to mind some of the familiar images of some styles of Indigenous art, without appropriating them. I loved the contrasts and the sense of this piece building up layer by layer, as stories often do. There is more of Imbi’s work and process at her www site here.
Roz Hawker (Bunya, Queensland) contributed Holding Close. You can follow the link to much better images and her own account of these works.
This wonderfully embellished, subtly dyed dress is an ode, or perhaps a love letter, to her grandmothers. I loved the whimsical plants sending tendrils up from the cuffs, blooming upward from the hem…
and even subtly travelling up the back of the dress. The dress hung beside a collection of smaller works in silver and silk… a little gathering of treasures which reminded me of nothing so much as the small collection of found objects (mostly from nature) that a child–or a grownup in my case–might bring home from a holiday in a special place. Conjuring points for memory and wonder.
India Flint (Mount Pleasant, South Australia) contributed sheep fold: a semicircle of bundles which look like stones… or like bundles tied around rocks: in either case, the mystery of what is inside is maintained by the outside of the stone/bundle.
These bundles are full of all the wonderful diversity that rocks have–folds, crinkles, smoothnesses, varied and sometimes mottled colours. But they did smell rather more wonderful than your average stone.
On the wall, inside what I pictured as the wall of the sheep fold, hung an empty wire box, its base pointing out toward the room. As a receptacle for feed might, perhaps.
Collecting Cards is also by Dorothy Caldwell. This really is a group of cards with images of textiles and stitching on them, for the most part.
I loved looking at these and wondering over their arrangement and their subtle colours and textures.
This exquisite, heavily stitched work is Ten Thousand Leaves, by Isobel McGarry (Adelaide, South Australia).
Leaves have been eco-printed onto the silk as well as appliqued onto it. Isobel was kind enough to answer a lot of questions about this piece–since she was there for the opening.
The back of the work was rather plainer–eco-printed silk edged with words in English and (I am guessing) Japanese.
This work is a meditation on peace, with the stitched crosses symbolising those who have died in war.
The imagery of mending is available here, but the overall effect of this stitching is quite different–or perhaps an homage to the beauty as well as the necessity of mending, its capacity to build up a whole composed of so many tiny actions and scraps and make it gloriously whole without hiding the need for repair or the fact of many pieces having been brought together to create a new, entire fabric.
365 days at Tickleberry Flats (Desiree Fitzgibbon, Dodges Ferry, Tasmania) held a year in a specific place in 356 small vessels, each with red lines traced around it. Intriguing and beautiful.
John Parkes’ Sampler (Dead Two Years Now) remembers his father in a moving sampler constructed from two of his father’s shirts.
Raw edges called to mind for me the raw emotions grief can provoke as well as the fragility of memories referenced in the stitched words themselves.
Sandra Brownlee (Dartmouth, Nova Scotia) contributed Untitled artist book, a work that made me long to pick up and touch. The stitched binding exposed at the base of the book is intricate and rather wonderful. Sandra’s workshops on tactile notebooks, clearly based in her own practice, are famous–two accounts with images here and here.
Judy Keylock (Lud Valley, New Zealand) contributed a work of layers and shadows, which was all the more lovely for the way it floated gently in the small movements of air as people passed by or looked at it.
Although this work is called ‘Dirt’, I found it rather ethereal. (I had to laugh when I found exactly this word in Judy’s artist’s statement).
Subtle colours and subtle shadows flow through it.
And perhaps there is a message here about the wonders of dirt, which is, after all, not only the place we might all eventually go–but also the place from which everything emerges. You can see more of Judy’s work (in this case, with schoolchildren) here.
At first sighting, Sandra Brownlee’s Nighdress with text seemed austere. It appears handwoven and plain.
But on closer examination, proves to be a canvas for words which can only just be made out on closer inspection, winding their way across the interior surface and any body that we might imagine wearing it.
Of course… there was so much more! I know that many readers will not be able to get to Murray bridge, but India Flint has created an online exhibition of these pieces. How glorious to have the work of artists from such far-flung places brought together locally… and to have the chance to be there and celebrate its opening! We were the last to leave, and wandered out into the night for some of us to tell stories and others to snooze as we headed back to Adelaide…
24 responses to “In Situ: Murray Bridge Regional Gallery”
I truly do not know where to begin! The first 4 fabric pieces really drew me to them, over and over. Collecting Cards and The Ten Thousand Leaves would be wonderful to see in person. Thank you for including the link to the Ngarrindjeri Site. I’ll be back to take another and another look.
Thanks, Susan! Glad my less than glorious pictures give a bit of a sense of the wonderment.
lucky you…. this I would love to visit so I could swoon and absorb all the wonderous stitches
I wish you could too!
Those artworks look spectacular – thought-provoking, evocative and subtle. The sort of thing one can contemplate for ages, and bring one’s own interior life to the interpretation as well, if you know what I mean. I find that sort of art wonderfully stimulating to my own creative juices as well. I may have to see if I can find my way down to Murray Bridge before it closes, so that I can check it out in person!
Ah, well, then I have managed to convey something about how I found them! I hope you can go and enjoy. Murray Bridge is an interesting place to visit anyways–especially if you have river lovers and/or old train lovers along with you!
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thank you for this look at a wonderful exhibition which I won’t have a chance to see as I’m in the UK, it’s fascinating to haave your comments as well – and good news about it going on line!
I’m glad you enjoyed it, and yes–great news about having an online repository for people from near and far into the future…
What a fabulous exhibition, I wish I could see it. It probably made your fingers itch to touch as it does mine. Thanks for posting about it and with all the links too!
Some things made my fingers itch more than others! I really wanted to riffle through that book and fondle those well-wrapped stones… I wish you could be there in person too. Glad the links have been fun…
Thank you for the considered words, images and for making the big trek out to the Bridge. Such a good night.
You’re welcome! It was a great night–the whole crowd in my car were pleased, and as usual, by different things, so there was very much happy chat afterward too. I was delighted to be able to be there.
thank you mary.
You are so welcome. m
I managed to get there the next morning, no one to talk to, quiet and reflective. I loved both exhibitions, well worth seeing.
The opening was exciting–but I also love the quiet reflective stroll. Glad you managed to see it…
thank you for this wander through the exhibition. it’s one i truly wish i could see.
Thanks, Velma. I wish you could see it too!
A wonderful assemblage with thanks for the links to more. I expect to return to this post again and again …
Thanks so much, Liz!
Wonderful to have a glimpse of the exhibition ~ thank you for sharing your thoughts and photos for those of us that live too far away to attend. Too bad an exhibition like this doesn’t tour to other states.
You’re welcome, Jenny! It is good to have the online repository there for those far away, too…
I enjoyed my visit to this exhibit through your blog. thank you for posting about it. Your impressions and thoughts about each of the pieces were intelligent and sensitive. x