Sydney’s newest contemporary art gallery is set to launch with the first ever Sydney viewing of Thai artist BUNDIT PUANGTHONG.
Bundit Paungthong is a Melbourne based contemporary Thai artist, whose paintings focus on the rich cross cultural dialogue taking place in modern Australian society. Puangthong relates traditional Thai legends and religious tales, as well as commenting on political events currently taking place in Thailand, Burma, and in particular the relationship of the region with the United States and Australia.
This exhibition is a classic East meets West tale, Puangthong draws inspiration in equal measures from legendary New York painter, Jean-Michel Basquiat and stories and fables from his Thai upbringing.
"How can the cold media of porcelain and glass be so sexual? Maree Alexander manages to blend the hospital with the brothel, the sanitized with the fecund. Illogical as it may sound she manages to make the sterile erotic."
"Maree Alexander's photographs of domestic objects and vessels draw inspiration from the still-life genre in art. Their formal arrangements and curious juxtapositions are playful and at times suggestive, giving them an almost human quality. They seem to speak, touch, nestle and droop."
Museum of Contemporary Art
Mike Chavez is a Melbourne based artist whose works have been exhibited in solo, group and juried exhibitions across Australia.
Mike has been “nominated as one of the top 20 artists under 35 in Australia" by an independent panel of curators and arts writers assembled by Art Melbourne 06. He was featured in New Generation, a showcase of emerging artists who are “doing important work and should be considered seriously by collectors and astute investors.”
His paintings based on the Australian ute explore the themes of racism and parochialism through their use of bold images, slogans and repetition. In works featuring anthropomorphized animal characters he examines the complexities of the human condition while in another series entitled La Familia, he looks at life’s daily travails.
Chavez’s exploration of his Filipino heritage through the western lens of post post modernism gives his work a unique and powerful impact.
This series explores the laws of chance through the effect of gravity on paint. I discovered a process by chance where I simply inject paint into balloons, blow them up and leave them to dry. When the paint has dried, they are taken outside in the direct sun and cut open, which releases the inside tension. The sun then activates them, shrivelling the paint inside into rippled patterns in intricate, beautiful and unexpected ways. After peeling away the latex of the balloon I am left with an amazing sculpture made out of paint. I use the same process for each balloon. There are minor refinements and adjustments I make to the process, such as using different coloured paint or paint with different chemical structures. The results for each are very different as chance determines the outcome for each balloon.
"This show is in the tradition of Vaintas, but not in the morose sentimentality of the 15-century concept. Instead I’m asking you to freshen up your afterlife."
This show is a playful foray into a dimension where teenage ghosts rule and have their whole afterlives ahead of them. Be prepared, and get ready to be immersed in a world of giants, ghosts of giants, in fact, giant ghosts with a grafitti obsession.
This is the latest world to spring, fully formed, from the ever creative mind of sculptor, film maker and painter Louis Pratt.
Gravity poses no threat to Pratt’s newest multimedia installation, “The last time I saw you:)” sculptures emerge from the ceiling and a new short film, in 3D, will premiere at Sydney’s newest space for visionary emerging artists.
The sublime charcoal on paper works of master draughtsman Gina Haywood are presented for the first time this November. Haywood manipulates digital images, solarising, increasing contrast and manipulating poses, then, using charcoal and the ever present q-tip, transforms these original photgraphs into works that sit beyond both photography and drawing, a curious hybrid, and evolution in looking.
Iain Dawson 2008
"Severed from their roots, the Moth Plant (Araujia sericifera), the subject of the works, can no longer stay alive, although a process of renewal goes on as the drying pods eventually burst to disperse their air-born cargo in anticipation of future regeneration.
The intensity of detail in the charcoal drawings captures a fragility and strength, a perverse beauty to be seen amongst the decay of nature in an increasingly sterile and anxious industrial world.
The viewer is encouraged to look at that which is mostly overlooked or absent in our urban environment. To gaze with deliberation at the usually unseen as it is here revealed to be worthy of focus and deliberation, to put aside our daily scanning and enjoy a sensual immersion."
Food can be nothing, and everything. It can be fast, a culinary one-night
stand, evanescent as a drunken midnight feast. Or it can be slow, slower than
paint: that special bottle cellared for so long it's older than your grandchild.
Whether to cook fast or slow was just one of the questions I took to each
of the artists. I wanted to know things such as: Are artists as creative in
the kitchen as they are on canvas? Does good taste in art follow through to
good taste in food? Will the maxim 'tell me what you eat and I'll tell you
who you are' hold true?
Asking all of these questions posed some challenges. An alternative title
to The Artist's Lunch could have been Talking
With My Mouth Full. When I played
back the interview tapes I'd surprised, and a little embarrassed, at how much
time I had spent eating on the job. The discovery that I'd been noisily demolishing
a piece of English shortbread throughout the course of an earnest discussion
with Jeffrey Smart about the incontestable virtues of table manners, made me
subsequently wary of steering the conversation too far in any self-defeating
Whichever direction the journey took, there were flashes of insight. John
Olsen interrupting a brilliant disquisition on Spanish cuisine to remark that
paella is like the sun; Mirka Mora explaining how she reads recipes as though
they are ballets; Allan Mitelman pointing out which Polish polka should accompany
the making of flaki wolowe. Most people don't know what they eat ... much less
who they are. The artists' conversations invariably circled back, from the
belly to the eye.
Cornucopias of fruit and flowers, still lifes of pheasant and hare, idyllic
picnics of bread, wine and cheese - what is it about artists and food? We don't
immediately associate musicians with the good life. Nor do we connect architects
with appetite or filmmakers with fine dining. Writers and liquor is a natural
combination. Artists, though, seem to have a thing for food. Is this symbiosis
hard-wired? After all, cave paintings show us lunch on the hoof long before
they show us religion. Or is it just this: artist's know how to have a good
time, and eating and cooking promise the very best of good times.