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The forest comes to Ararat

Apr 2nd, 2012
by Kevin Murray.
2 comments
Detail of the Floating Forest installation by Douglas Fuchs at Ararat Regional Art Gallery

Detail of the Floating Forest installation by Douglas Fuchs at Ararat Regional Art Gallery

I had the good fortune on Saturday to attend the Floating Forest symposium at Ararat Regional Art Gallery. Talks by curators and artists reflected a heartening story that connected not only generations of fibre artists but also indigenous and settler cultures.

The story begins in 1981, when Craft Australia had the foresight to bring out the US fibre artist Douglas Fuchs. At the time, the development of contemporary craft benefited immeasurably from these foreign visitors, bringing together the nascent communities of fibre, textile, metal, clay and glass artists.

Fuchs was a fibre artist particularly inspired by traditional basketry, such as native American traditions. He travelled widely through Australia, giving workshops and spending time in Maningrida learning the ways of traditional Yolngu fibre crafts. The tour eventuated in the exhibition titled Floating Forest, which launched at Adelaide, Festival Centre in 1981, then toured Sydney and Melbourne in 1982. The visit was quite critical for Australian craft.

Fuch’s statement in the exhibition reflects the mystery that he seeks in fibre art:

Psychologically the forest symbol represents the unknown in each person’s being — a beckoning desire to get lost, or discovering aspects of life that may be more challenging and difficult than already comprehended… My concept of a ‘Floating Forest’ environment was an attempt to construct and symbolise this state of feeling, this symbol that has become central in my imagination. Many other people have done it in different ways. I happen to be a person who makes objects in basketry techniques and materials.

A particularly moving part of the symposium was delivered by Wendy Golden, who read out Virginia Kaiser’s reflections on the experience. Kaiser had been unable to attend herself due to ill health, but the sound of her words vocalised by an equally dedicated and innovative basketmaker was quite powerful. Before Fuchs’ visit, Kaiser had been studying weaving. His workshop had the effect of connecting her with a world of twining and coiling. The exhibition itself was a revelation. The theatrical display of sculptural vessels, figurative pieces and floating structures demonstrated the expressive potential of fibre as an art form.

Installation shot of Floating Forest by Douglas Fuchs at Ararat Regional Art Gallery

Installation shot of Floating Forest by Douglas Fuchs at Ararat Regional Art Gallery

Thankfully, the exhibition as a whole was acquired by the Powerhouse Museum. And fortunately for us, Anthony Camm at the Ararat Regional Gallery had the vision to restage the exhibition 30 years later, reflecting the gallery’s specialisation in fibre arts. The installation was combined with works from the collection and new works made to honour Douglas Fuchs.

Three decades later, a symposium about Floating Forest was an opportunity not only to acknowledge the enduring influence of an exhibition, but also to recognise the revival of indigenous basketry that had occurred in the meantime. In recent years, there has been a wave of fibre exhibitions touring around Australia, such as Recoil, Woven Forms, Tayenebe, Floating Life, and Louise Hamby’s Art on a String and now touring Clever Hands. Increasingly these reflect the resilience and innovation of fibre work in Indigenous communities. More than any other material, fibre connects with the land.

The symposium featured some fascinating reflections on southeastern indigenous fibre. Museum Victoria’s Antoinette Smith gave some fascinating insights into traditional use of baskets, sometimes reaching a massive size to reflect the status of its owner. Marilyne Nicholls reflected on her monumental works using open coil technique. And Brownyn Razem reflected on a wide variety of southeastern fibre arts, such as the revival of possum skin cloaks.

Given the connection to land, there’s a temptation to think then that fibre is an exclusively indigenous art form. An very interesting text panel in the exhibition quoted from a review of the Australian basketry exhibition by Anna Griffiths in Craft Victoria (1992) which downgraded the value of non-functional and conceptual works. But a number of presentations in the symposium showed how it was a continuing form of experimentation for settler artists. As a Victorian basketmakers, Maree Brown showed some very fresh work using a wide variety of materials, from plastics to jigsaw pieces. Lucy Irvine took this further with her phenomenological abstract forms using nylon and cable ties.

Adrienne Kneebone, one of the fibre artists presenting at the symposium

Adrienne Kneebone, one of the fibre artists presenting at the symposium

So do the settler and indigenous fibre traditions meet? Adrienne Kneebone, mentored by Nalda Searles, presented a paper about her Pandanus Project, involving a dialogue around the Northern Territory town Katherine. This featured some quite haunting indigenous fibre work, including the mysterious mukuy forms. But this isn’t the only influence on Kneebone. Talking with Adrienne in the gallery, she told me how moved she was to see Floating Forest. ‘Virginia Kaiser has been such an influence on me. And here is the exhibition that so inspired her.’

Congratulations to Ararat Regional Art Gallery. Floating Forest helped remind us of the power of craft to both connect people and express deep emotions. It’s a lead that others should follow.

Edric Ong–a treasury of pandanus

Feb 2nd, 2011
by Kevin Murray.
2 comments
Edric Ong

Edric Ong

Edric Ong combines the role of artist with designer, architect, curator, consultant and president. He works quite closely with UNESCO, advising on their Seal of Excellence for Crafts Program. He has convened the World Eco-Fiber and Textile (WEFT) forum since 1999. And has specialised particularly in the textile crafts of Malaysia, including Sarawak.

For Welcome Signs, he has designed a series of fibre-based jewellery drawing on the traditional craft of pandanus weaving. These draw on important elements of local material culture, such as wedding ceremonies and personal adornment.

Edric Ong, Pandanus pouch necklaces

Edric Ong, Pandanus pouch necklaces


Two string necklaces featuring blue glass beads and hand-crafted pouches made of dyed ‘pandanus’ leaves. These pouches are miniaturized from traditional dowry pouches made by the Malay women of Kota Samarahan , Sarawak, East Malaysia; and were presented during the ‘akad nikah’ or exchange of marriage vows ceremony.
Edric Ong, Pandanus open-plaited necklace and belt

Edric Ong, Pandanus open-plaited necklace and belt

Open plaited pandanus straps were made by the Orang Asli of Carey Island, Selangor, West Malaysia as part of their small pouches for keeping tobacco.

In the necklace and belt featured here, they have been made as components and strung into a cord (the necklace) or added to a rattan belt as accessories.

Artist Statement

This is a series of fashion accessories I developed as part of collection to introduce the use of more natural fibers such as tree-bark, rattan, and pandanus into my work. It started with using tree bark cloth as appliqué on cottons and silks; then using rattan straps as accessories, and then using the pliable pandanus as bustiers, capes and also as ornaments for necklaces and belts.

The pandanus components are made by two groups of craft artists: the Malay women of Kota Samarahan, Sarawak in East Malaysia; and the Orang Asli women of Carey Island, Selangor in West Malaysia.

I hope that these new designs and use of their traditional crafts will inspire them to create a new product line and so generate more income for them.

Original pandanus pouch

Original pandanus pouch

Maryann Talia Pau makes Samoa in Australia

Jul 29th, 2010
by Kevin Murray.
1 comment
Maryann Talia Palau on her return to Samoa in 2008

Maryann Talia Palau on her return to Samoa in 2008

Maryann Talia Pau on her return to Samoa in 2008

We know that Pacific Island populations spread out well beyond the islands themselves. Countries like Australia are home to many from the islands who proudly continue to engage with their culture beyond the seas. But what does it mean to be a Pacific Islander living in a wide brown land like Australia?

Maryann Talia Pau has quickly shot to prominence as an artist able connect her Pacific roots with urban Australian aerials. Though born in Apia, Samoa, she moved to New Zealand while only one year old. She fondly remembers growing up in West Auckland close to family and in a church community, though religion seemed more about the making than the praying. Time was spent singing and making craft. At school, Maryann remembers constructing elaborate flower compositions for school competitions.

At the age of ten, her family moved to Melbourne where she initially felt out of place. This was further compounded by her experiences in high school where she felt different and separate to the other few Samoans attending the school. This was also Maryann’s first experience of being called fair-skinned by other Samoans, which she found very bizarre.

When she was thirteen, Maryann went home to Samoa with her mother and sister, her first trip home since she was born. It was also to mark Maryann’s entry into High School. While she was there, the island experienced a violent cyclone. She remembers staying in her mother’s village where, despite the mayhem outside, everyone was calm — just ‘going about their ‘business as usual. Such was their strength and organisation and knowledge to continue and thrive.’

At Melbourne University, she found a collective who were also exploring what it meant to be Indigenous. There was resonance with the Stolen Generation – ‘I could relate to the whole dislocation thing.’ She has since continued this association through her art. And on a personal level, she started a family with a Murri man from Queensland. The experiences of growing up away from family, of relocating several times with a young family and wanting to engage with the Pacific Island community has prompted the desire to show her art publicly.

Her inspiration for making art came partly from a weaving circle at the Selling Yarns 2 conference in Canberra, 2009 where she worked together with the Elcho artist Roslyn Malŋumba. Maryann remembers Roslyn saying, ‘”You are meant to weave.” It felt so natural and right to be weaving. And to be weaving with a mother from this land, that was special!’

Maryann Talia Palau 'Please, can I weave with you?'

Maryann Talia Palau 'Please, can I weave with you?'

Maryann Talia Pau 'Fa'amolemole, pe mafai ona tatou lalaga fa'atasi?' (Please, can I weave with you?) Pandanus, cream organza and black satin ribbon, shells, fishing line, black cotton fabric; weaving and beading, 2009

Her first break came with the Craft Cubed exhibition city/country at Craft Victoria, last August. Maryann made a breast plate using salvaged pieces from an ie toga (Samoan fine mat) and shells collected over several years. This breast plate is called Fa’amolemole, pe mafai ona tatou lalaga faatasi? (Please, can I weave with you?). Then she found a place in Precious Pendants at Object Gallery, where she created another breastplate called Mo lo’u Tama (For My Dad), an artwork celebrating her family’s 20 years in Australia. Both of these pieces recycle materials collected and gifted and are mixed with synthetic materials such a satin ribbon. Earlier this year, Maryann’s enthusiasm for Rosanna Raymond’s Tapa Jeans collected by the NGV led her to be invited to show companion works for the L’Oreal Melbourne Fashion Festival Cultural Program, which became the exhibition Fashioning the Mana. A total of four adornment works were installed in the Oceanic Gallery, the first contemporary work by a Pacific Island woman for the Gallery. Maryann’s work is currently showing in a group exhibition called ex.o.dus at Blacktown Art Centre, NSW where she has the precious ie toga which she has salvaged and kept for future works.

Maryann Talia Palau, “Mo lo’u Tama” (For my dad)

Maryann Talia Palau, “Mo lo’u Tama” (For my dad)

Maryann Talia Pau, “Mo lo’u Tama” (For my dad), dried pandanus, shells, black and coloured satin ribbon, coloured feathers, 2009

Maryann’s work repurposes traditional Samoan craft to make the kind of overt statements necessary in a noisy urban context. She transforms the collective fala (mat) into individual breastplates, embroidered with shells to proudly proclaim its culture. Making art has enabled Maryann to maintain a connection with Samoa, as she sources materials and objects. The sacredness of each piece is delivered through the materials which have either been gifted especially to Maryann or passed on with the belief that they will be turned into something new, beautiful and meaningful. Even though she left Samoa when she was only one, the strength of island life seems to be something that she carries with her, propelling her forward to share and participate.

Maryann is fiercely positive, hopeful and energised by the dynamic creative representations of the Pacific Islands. ‘The response so far to Pacific Island artists based in Australia has been very affirming. There is still much more we can do, but we are definitely visible and there are great things coming.’ The story is just beginning.

Made in Tuvalu, heard throughout the world

Dec 13th, 2009
by Kevin Murray.
1 comment
Mrs Tagifoe Taomia at the Wasawasa Festival of the Oceans

Mrs Tagifoe Taomia at the Wasawasa Festival of the Oceans

Mrs Tagifoe Taomia at the Wasawasa Festival of the Oceans

The recent Wasawasa Festival of the Oceans in Suva was a golden opportunity to meet with members of the broad Pacific community. One of the stalls I admired most was created by the Tuvalu community. The stall was decorated with a wonderful range of crafts, including leis for dancing, elegant fans, tiputa garlands for weddings and ti-ti skirts. One wall had a complex display of shell necklaces, usually given when returning to the island.

Fo from Tuvalu

Fo from Tuvalu

Fo from Tuvalu

One of my favourites was the fo, or garland used for dancing. It is usually made from fresh flowers, but these were made to last. They had intricately folded pandanas leaf with flowers made of shells and seeds.

I was greatly impressed in meeting a representative from Tuvalu, Mrs Tagifoe Taomia. Mrs Taumia told me that after celebrations, these craft objects are usually hung on the walls to decorate homes, particularly of those from Tuvalu who have come to Suva for education.

Given all the resources in Fiji that are lacking in Tuvalu, I asked Mrs Taumia if it matters to her that the island still exists. She told me emphatically, ‘There’s no place like home. You always want to go back to Tuvalu. And when you grow old you want to go back and stay there.’

Even though a small population of 12,000, Tuvalu represents a unique story of a vibrant culture. Though the expatriate community carry the culture in their hearts, it seems they do not continue to make traditional objects. The crafts are still only made on the islands. This seems an important factor to keep in mind with rising ocean levels – we can re-locate people, but much of the culture remains attached to the land.

As the Swedish proverb goes, ‘Worry gives a small thing a big shadow.’ It is heartening that Tuvalu has a strong voice in the current Copenhagen negotiations. Let’s hope the world listens.

Finally made it! Castlemaine’s new take on art

Mar 27th, 2009
by Kevin Murray.
1 comment
Noah Grosz with his sculpture 'Blockie'

Noah Grosz with his sculpture 'Blockie'

Noah Grosz with his sculpture 'Blockie'

The first Castlemaine Visual Arts Biennial opened last night with exhibitions in two town venues and public art through the greater township. The theme Art of Making: Artisanship and Invention responded to the kind of artistic community in the area, which draws from its light industrial history to create work through foundries, forgies and workshops.

A good example of where this work might be heading is the artist Noah Grosz who won the CVAB prize with his sculpture ‘Blockie’. A long time resident of Castlemaine, Grosz manages to bring together two opposing sides of the town. While there is a rough and ready guild of contemporary artisans who create beautiful objects for contemplation, there is also a large tribe of Hot Rodders, who soup up cars for enjoyment of speed and noise. But connecting them both is a love of fabrication. With the help of a glue gun, Grosz joins these together in a version of a 1934 Ford (favourite of the band Zee Zee Top) made from a local reed called Phragmites Australis, which is light, found in the gullies where once was gold, and valued greatly by the Indigenous inhabitants of the region.

The CVAB was opened by Chris McAuliffe, director of the Potter Museum of Art and a local resident – who generously demonstrated his own craft by brewing 100 bottles of beer for the event. Chris spoke with determination about the handmade as an expression of humanness. They’ll be more humanness on display this Sunday with an Open Bench program at Lot 19. For more information go here.

Congratulations to Festival Director Martin Paten and Visual Arts Coordinator Zoe Amor for constructing such an important new place in the Australian visual arts calendar. The CVAB promises to be an ongoing space for that very embodied experience of world that comes through contact with materials manipulated with skill, thoughtfulness and invention.

For more images of works, go here.

From a hard to a soft place – national identity in metal and fibre

Mar 11th, 2009
by Kevin Murray.
No comments yet
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It’s always enlivening when Damian Skinner comes to town. We gave at talk together at RMIT in the unusual setting of Hoyts Cinema 7 in Melbourne Central. It was disconcerting to see the students and jewellers lying back in their comfy seats as though waiting for a blockbuster.

Damian began with his reading of the ‘Provincial Problem’ – how antipodean jewellers reconcile their desire for recognition in Europe with their artistic drive for independent identity. Damian tries to turn this around by deconstructing the relationship of original and copy, claiming that the original needs the copy to assert its originality. It would be interesting to have a European response to Damian’s argument, or is the absence of north-south dialogue about this part of the very issue?

I chose to use Damian’s visit to consider what Australian jewellery is not. You would think if Australia followed the New Zealand path of Bone, Stone and Shell that it would have made much more of its national stone – the opal. Damian and I spent the rest of the day testing this out with the multitude of opal stores around town. We eventually found an underground jewellery scene (featuring Marcus Davidson and Dan Scurry) that had an entire project taking an Opal-Scope to Lightning Ridge. There’s always an underground if you dig deep enough!

I should reassure you that I didn’t just talk about the absence in Australian jewellery, but also spoke of jewellery with a social conscience as something marking our scene as distinct in the mid-1980s, and the issue of how national identity aligns with Melbourne’s Euro-centrism. But that’s to come in the book.

From a hard to a soft place, I spent the rest of the week in the Selling Yarns conference. This began with a burst of enthusiasm from Alison Page, who promoted the idea of a National Indigenous Design School. Her provocation provided the basis for many conversations to follow, as papers looked at community development and codes of practice. The participants included a strong mix of makers and shakers from all parts of Indigenous Australia. The mood on day one was extremely buoyant and affirming. On day two, that had turned towards potential threats, particularly from shady operators bringing in overseas fakes.

In a way, the conference seemed to offer two paths. One was to commercialise Indigenous craft and design so that it can compete directly with mainstream businesses. The other was to open up communities to cultural tourism – with much consultation.

Selling Yarns 2 managed to meet a great demand for discussion and support of Indigenous craft and design ventures. There was already talk of Selling Yarns 3. Why not? In a way, it seems to fill a space for fibre and textile arts which has lacked the regular conferences of ceramicists, glass artists and jewellers. Though a future challenge is to find a way of broadening the focus to include other media and opportunities for Indigenous men.

Reflecting back on the initial dialogue, it seems that in Australia the non-Indigenous response to Indigenous identity is largely bureaucratic, rather than creative. Perhaps we can think again about the staid image of bureaucracy and see it instead as an adventure in national identity.

Children can be the link between craft and design

Mar 9th, 2009
by Kevin Murray.
No comments yet
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The Tradition for Modern Times was an intense workshop to complete the Selling Yarns conference. Participants brought a range of skills and experiences, particularly from Indigenous and artisan craft centres. In first considering the kinds of objects that have value in life, there was a great emphasis on some knowledge or connection to those who make them.

The scenario proved very lively. An Australian Indigenous Design Company was attempting to develop a ‘world craft’ product with traditional Aymara weavers based in the Andes. This was to be sold through a local gift shop to an Australian family. It all began well when a poncho design was developed that featured a hood which appeared very fashionable. But when this failed to sell in the shop, the artisans realised that they had forgotten to ensure payment. Trust broke down between artisans and designers and a stand-off ensued. In the end, it was the consumers who managed to regain trust by developing a ‘sister school’ relationship with the Andean village. This then paved the way for a cultural exchange between the designers and artisans. On the basis of this restored confidence, they were able to develop a more fitted product that was eventually successful.

The workshop revealed many dimensions to the business of cross-cultural product development. In particular, it showed that consumer participation can often be very productive in strengthening these cultural ties.

This exploration has many more possibilities to explore, but these exercises seem wonderful opportunities to share expertise and forge new methodologies. We are certainly entering a phase of ‘world craft’ when new possibilities are critical for its future.

From a hard to a soft place – national identity in metal and fibre

Mar 9th, 2009
by Kevin Murray.
No comments yet

It’s always enlivening when Damian Skinner comes to town. We gave at talk together at RMIT in the unusual setting of Hoyts Cinema 7 in Melbourne Central. It was disconcerting to see the students and jewellers lying back in their comfy seats as though waiting for a blockbuster.

Damian began with his reading of the ‘Provincial Problem’ – how antipodean jewellers reconcile their desire for recognition in Europe with their artistic drive for independent identity. Damian tries to turn this around by deconstructing the relationship of original and copy, claiming that the original needs the copy to assert its originality. It would be interesting to have a European response to Damian’s argument, or is the absence of north-south dialogue about this part of the very issue?

I chose to use Damian’s visit to consider what Australian jewellery is not. You would think if Australia followed the New Zealand path of Bone, Stone and Shell that it would have made much more of its national stone – the opal. Damian and I spent the rest of the day testing this out with the multitude of opal stores around town. We eventually found an underground jewellery scene (featuring Marcus Davidson and Dan Scurry) that had an entire project taking an Opal-Scope to Lightning Ridge. There’s always an underground if you dig deep enough!

I should reassure you that I didn’t just talk about the absence in Australian jewellery, but also spoke of jewellery with a social conscience as something marking our scene as distinct in the mid-1980s, and the issue of how national identity aligns with Melbourne’s Euro-centrism. But that’s to come in the book.

From a hard to a soft place, I spent the rest of the week in the Selling Yarns conference. This began with a burst of enthusiasm from Alison Page, who promoted the idea of a National Indigenous Design School. Her provocation provided the basis for many conversations to follow, as papers looked at community development and codes of practice. The participants included a strong mix of makers and shakers from all parts of Indigenous Australia. The mood on day one was extremely buoyant and affirming. On day two, that had turned towards potential threats, particularly from shady operators bringing in overseas fakes.

In a way, the conference seemed to offer two paths. One was to commercialise Indigenous craft and design so that it can compete directly with mainstream businesses. The other was to open up communities to cultural tourism – with much consultation.

Selling Yarns 2 managed to meet a great demand for discussion and support of Indigenous craft and design ventures. There was already talk of Selling Yarns 3. Why not? In a way, it seems to fill a space for fibre and textile arts which has lacked the regular conferences of ceramicists, glass artists and jewellers. Though a future challenge is to find a way of broadening the focus to include other media and opportunities for Indigenous men.

Reflecting back on the initial dialogue, it seems that in Australia the non-Indigenous response to Indigenous identity is largely bureaucratic, rather than creative. Perhaps we can think again about the staid image of bureaucracy and see it instead as an adventure in national identity.

Go bush at the national centre

Aug 19th, 2008
by admin.
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I’m spending a couple of weeks in Canberra with the ceramics department at the Canberra School of Art. The region has quite its fair share of craft capital.

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Beth Hatton ‘transient as a tree’ 2008, cedar tripod, acacia tree root
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Beth Hatton Introducing species scotch thistle, yorkshire fog, redanther wallaby grass, allocasuarina seeks, linen thread

The redoubtable CraftACT maintains its standard of beautiful exhibitions resonant with narrative. Baseline: Remnant Grassland of Weereewa/Lake George includes new works by fibre artist Beth Hatton and painter Christine James. Beth Hatton continues her style of work creating objects out of stitched grass. This resonates strongly with the work of West Australian artists such as Nalda Searles, Joyce Winsley and Kate Campbell-Pope. Beth’s new work exaggerates the loose ends of her objects and dramatises the transformation from grass to form. It’s complemented by the landscapes of James and a most engaging animation by Caroline Huf. It was orchestrated by a forum out at Lake George where a group of around 70 huddled in a tent to hear stories from farmers taking responsibility for their land.

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Gail Nichols with opening speaker Janet Deboos at Studio Altenburg gallery in Braidwood

It seems Canberrans have a soft spot for Braidwood, which is the favourite stopover on the way to the coast at Bateman’s Bay. As a heritage town, it has a very strong craft feel. There are three quilting shops and another shop devoted to Alpacca crafts. Their major cultural event of the year is the ‘airing of the quilts’, when these local masterpieces are hung out along the main street.

Gail Nichols is an established ceramicist whose work does well in Melbourne and Sydney. The soda vapour firings leave an orange tinge the resonates with the rocky soils in the area. The exhibition was very popular with locals. The works were subject of great attention and sales were good.

Braidwood sits in the electorate of Eden-Monero, the bellwether seat that determines the balance of power in its neighbouring town Canberra. There’s something charming about national government residing in a place with such a sophisticated bush culture.