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The land is beautiful, but not pretty. Strictly speaking, its awe-inspiring vastness is what philosophers call sublime, which is not a higher dimension of the beautiful but a feeling that combines the exhilaration inspired by the display of nature at its grandest and the powerlessness we experience when overwhelmed by the awesomeness of such spectacles. Of course, this land is more than a sublime spectacle. It is also – and this is especially true for its traditional Indigenous custodians – a home and the

INTRODUCTION horizon within which people inscribe their stories. These narratives, be they ancestral or merely historical, transform the forbidding otherness of sublime nature into a dwelling symbolically fit for human habitation. In so doing, they seal the covenant between a nation – a term that should be understood in its broadest sense and not only as synonym of the modern nation state – and the land that shelters it. The bond between nation and land is inherent in the shared Latin etymology of the English words ‘nation’ (natio), ‘nature’ (natura) and ‘to be born’ (nascere). Nation and nature converge in the idea of the motherland, a ‘mother’ that gives her ‘children’ their ‘nature’ as participants in a shared community and as members of a nation. Despite their profound differences, Indigenous and non-Indigenous inhabitants of this land share this bond between place and identity, nature and nation, and thus treat the land as a palimpsest for human stories of origin and belonging.

Underlying these narratives rests the land’s ultimate role as the ‘mother’ that supports and shelters the material life of the community. Hunting, gathering, fishing, agriculture, logging and mining are human activities that turn nature into a means of survival and an economic resource. The land’s dual character as a source of both symbolic meaning and material utility can, however, become a source of conflict if the balance between the two is broken. This is the situation of modern market economies in which the land is no longer seen as that which nourishes and gives meaning but merely a means to endless economic growth. But which land is this land? The description fits Australia but also other places; for example, the Nordic countries of Sweden, Iceland, Denmark and Finland. They too have sublime landscapes, ancient indigenous cultures, economies that greatly rely on natural resources and severe environmental challenges created by the overexploitation of natural resources. These perhaps surprising similarities between lands at the opposite ends of the globe provided the initial impetus for spaced 3: north by southeast. The project, like previous iterations of spaced, was based on the idea of commissioning artists to create new works through a series of residencies in rural and remote communities. But – and this was a first for us – the residency hosts were located not only in Western Australia, as it has been the case in the past, they were also based in several Nordic countries. This geographic expansion created an exchange in which Australian artists were invited to work in Swedish, Finnish, Danish and



Icelandic communities, while regional organisations throughout Western Australia hosted visiting Nordic artists. To support this exchange, we set up an international network of residency hosts that generously agreed to contribute to the project by providing accommodation, community liaison and logistic support. The International Art Space role, as commissioner and producer of the project, was to manage this dispersed global network and ensure that all projects adhere to the curatorial guidelines. It was a difficult role, given that we are a tiny organisation with limited financial resources, and considering the vast distances between the various ‘nodes’ of the network. As it is to be expected, the relationships between artists, residency hosts and communities often developed in unexpected, and occasionally problematic, ways. But this is the nature of a project like spaced: we set things in motion and let them develop, intervening only when the process goes off the rails. We are not interested in micro-managing outcomes but prefer, as the saying goes, to let a thousand flowers bloom. The works you see in this exhibition, many of which have a collaborative component, embody the artists’ creative responses to local landscapes, histories and communities. They emerge from encounters with the unfamiliar, but also register the realisation of the close relationship between the global and the local. Cultural differences still endure, of course, but they exist in a cross-national context of shared economic, environmental and technological realities. While the issues are often the same, the ways of addressing them reflect local values; for example, while Nordic countries tend to favour collective responsibility, Australia often emphasises individual autonomy.

Artists responded to the situations in which they found themselves in different and sometimes unpredictable ways. One should not expect from artists scientific analysis or journalistic reportage – although some adopt a deceptively straightforward documentary approach – but an open-ended interplay of impressions, intuitions, analogies and ideas. What we, as project commissioners, want from artists is only that they don’t lock themselves in their studios but create work by immersing themselves in ordinary life and engaging in a dialogue with people beyond the narrow confines of the art world. The outcome of these interactions affected the final works – sometimes overtly, at other times only implicitly – and can also be followed as they unfolded by accessing the artists’ blogs posted on our website. Finally, I would like to personally thank Dr Stefano Carboni for offering us the fantastic opportunity to present this exhibition in Western Australia’s leading art institution. A special thank you also to Dunja Rmandić and all the other gallery staff who worked with us on this project. Of course, the exhibition comes at the end of the two-year residency cycle that was only possible because of the support of the many organisations that hosted the artists, a contribution for which we are very grateful. Thank you also to the artists and the International Art Space board and staff, especially the indefatigable Soula Veyradier.

Can you elaborate on the relationship between the various works you created in response to your experience in Finland?


The primary focus of my research in Finland was to explore the complex relationship between global urban lifestyle and the natural environment. As well as reading, reflecting and exchanging ideas, quite a large portion of my time was spent outside, learning new skills and trying to find something almost spiritual through being saturated by nature. Oon voimissain (I Will Survive) is a series of photographic still-life compositions that document some of these alternative research methods, which informed the larger works: knife-making, hunting, foraging, awareness of the environment and its inhabitants, and the historical connections to the landscape I found myself in. Pyytää (To Hunt/To Ask) was heavily informed by the time spent sourcing food and resources with different people in the region. Personal involvement in sourcing these, whether hunting and preparing elk hide or cutting down trees for firewood, was an intensely tactile and humbling experience. It invoked a sense of responsibility and accountability to the environment, something the people in this community all share.



How to Be, Which Way to Live follows the narrative of rapid change in the environment since the start of industrialisation and the reframing of ‘wilderness’ as a cultural and economic asset rather than a dangerous place. It depicts differing types of forest from the area: untouched oldgrowth forest, nature reserves, national parks, forest owned and changed by the forestry industry, and clear-cut fields. Each work has roots in this small municipality and in the past, present and future life of the community. Collectively, these localised experiences can be read as a metaphor for the various challenges faced by all communities – environmental, economic, cultural or spiritual challenges – in both rural and urban locations. Mustarinda is a unique organisation, with a strong focus on environmental issues. Was it a good fit for your project? It was a perfect fit! Not only was I able to spend extensive time surrounded by old-growth forest, but the transient community based in the house was the perfect sounding-board for discussing environmental challenges, sustainability and the ethical complexities of global urban lifestyles. Its remote location offered an opportunity to simplify, reflect and reconnect with the surrounds. During my two residencies, there was a whole range of people staying at the house: poets, academics, playwrights, visual artists, sound artists and musicians, as well as people working for the organisation. The kitchen was the place to share food and discuss ideas, with many meals going for several hours …

Has this project opened new perspectives or given you new insights that may benefit your future artistic practice? Mustarinda helped reshape my research method as an artist. Generally, I’m a pretty solitary worker, connecting with only a few trusted voices at various stages in a project’s development before its presentation. The spaced 3 residency program’s focus on small communities in remote locations gave me licence to mix this up and spend ample time with others. There was little pressure to resolve a body of work on site, instead I could be open to whatever was happening in the present. Often, I would plan for a day in the studio, and then throw that schedule out the window by the time I made breakfast. I would tag along with another artist or maybe a neighbour who was going to someone’s house to help move something, and then drop in for coffee at that person’s place before getting some nails to help repair something at the house; before I knew it I was arriving back at the Mustarinda house at 9.00 that night. These experiences allowed relationships to develop and perspectives to be heard, which you can’t get in the studio. Meeting this eclectic group of people and listening to their stories and to fragments of their lives, I was able to construct a charming portrait of this remote part of the world.





01/09/2016 hi marco, just a very quick, belated update from Copenhagen. i’ve been a week here, but it feels way longer! i’ve hooked up with a crew from Jatiwangi (western Java) who have been invited here for Alt_ Cph (opening tomorrow) – by happy coincidence they all know my Punkasila crew. we’re already working a project. 3 rehearsals to date. its been very sudden but they’re not here long so i’m going with the flow. maria’s been great, although she’s really busy with the exhibition and related matters. accommodation is, um, ‘spartan’, to say the least. out in the industrial boondocks, which actually is pretty good – my room is a dog box the size of double mattress. the bathroom is outside down a flight of stairs across the carpark – the shower is a shared facility in an entirely other building. i’m not complaining, just giving you the update. Copenhagen feels great, although expensive! with all this activity seems like a good time to be here. hope all’s well at your end, cheers, danius



14/09/2017 hi Marco,

16/08/2017 apologies, i’m under extreme heat – sorting out dramas and disasters – in short, no. it will be related – last night i took 3 i donesians to kauna to catch their connecting flights (frankfurt-singaporejakarta-yogyakarta)! – have to do the same tonight with Hahan – its a total fuck up -and i’m on his computer – because mine was lost / stolen – epic catastrophe. and my phone is busted -how is this gonna get worse – i wish i was Deborah Kelly!!!

05/09/2017 i bought my incoming ticket to CpH via Lithuania – obviously, LT was not on your program but i tried to make it happen! – the Lithuanians obviously didn’t pay me (i can’t believe they’re even in the EU) so really the travel budget is totally gone, i had to actually pay more – and of course, there’s the travel insurance. can i include that in the invoice? the ticket was expensive because i had to fly to Kaunas, then bus to Klaipeda then back to Kaunas then flight to Warsaw then to CpH – which was seemingly the cheapest way. so from your end, its simlpy a return ticket from CpH – Melbourne i should be reimbursed for – i also had to pay $750 for those damn guitars that are still in Klaipeda – my plan was to use them here. none of this is your problem, but now i’ve got to figure out how to get them back!its messy, for me, but from your end its simple if you ignore the Lithuanian leg. just went to the cemetery to visit Kierkegaard’s tombstone – it was like trying to find my computer – so Kierkegaard! its very understated and modest – so Kierkegaard – and in the Kirkegard (cemetery)!

i’ve spent the better of this week trying to lock in a project manager. i made an excellent connection with Andrea Mailund Glahn from the production collective ‘Uunit’. they’re a young new arts organization working collaboratively across various disciplines who seemed a great fit, but before i could properly give her my proposal(s) she politely declined due to time constraints. the same thing happen with Lea and Zoe from the ‘Last Butcher Shop’, but they we’re both super helpful. however, in better news Maria and Michelle have lined up Tijana Miskovic. she comes highly regarded and is very well known. her website below says it all. her partner is also a film maker / producer. we have a meeting together early tomorrow morning. Maria seems to think she won’t come cheap, but i don’t know what that means. i’m writing to ask how much do you think is reasonable to spend from my budget on ‘production management’? of the countless ambitious projects i’verealised i’ve never paid anyone to undertake such a task – we all do it ourselves and use the money for the artwork. be good to get your thoughts on this asap. cheers, danius

20/09/2017 hi marco, i hope you’re on the mend. i’m writing to you now very quickly before meeting with maria this morning and without cc-ing in the others. firstly, i’d always countenenced that if it takes longer to put this all together i’d stay here longer. the most important thing is to get everything in the can – the postproduction can be done later, here and in Melbourne. Abel, Tijana’s partner with take care of all the filming, documentation. etc – that’s his profession! The collaborators and venues have been identified, but obviously we can’t confirm anything until we know we have the money. we can revise the budget to include Tijana’s fee. the risk of failure is not high. but we need



to move fast – and we’re in very good hands. tijana is a gun – just look at the projects she’s realized – and mine for that matter. i’m frustrated too that this has dragged on – but we’re ready to move. hopefully we get the green light and its action. as for staying on, if i had too i might be able to stay put where i am – but i can figure something out, even without the studio. lets speak very soon. cheers, danius 20/09/2017


hi marco, i kind of regret sending that email about the petrified amber fibreglass vitrine – but such a great idea! and totally uncosted because i never even mentioned it to tijana. i’ve never done anything that ‘went badly wrong’ (well there was one time when the ship’s engine freighting the paintings from Indonesia to darren’s caught fire – force majeure. then darren had a stroke – but i can’t be blamed for that!) its just that the outcome sometimes have to change with the situation. even with a recent OzCo grant we had a whole lot of problems – and even ended up realising it in another country – but we successfully aquitted it, and their response, was a muted, ‘bloody hell, how did they do that’! as regards your last paragraph – of course i can’t accept that, how could i? – i simply have no money! so right now, until we get the go ahead, we’re just wasting precious time. if you prefer, we could make a simple music video / doco / film – without parade – basically 2 channel video: the death metal band with me – and me as S.K. walking CpH – its projected through, or behind the vitrine. that would mean redoing the budget – but we don’t have time for that. a simple way would be to divide the budget allocation between both parts – or just make the video. i just met with maria and asked about staying on – she said that’s up to me but i can’t keep the studio. as for accom, i have no idea as yet. at least the sun is at least shining (for now) – but i still have no computer! cheers, danius ps, why does everone insist on calling me Darius!


The work you present in this exhibition has a strong collaborative component. How did it develop? I’m showing a range of material from my time at the Kirsten Kjaers Museum in remote north-west Denmark over the summers of 2016 and 2017. As my major processual artwork for the spaced 3 project, I organised a series of six workshops. Some of the banners and texts on display are based on participants’ productions from the workshops. I mean to say, they are not exactly collaborative; they are other people’s works that I’ve reframed and reformatted to print as forlorn flags and as the speculative writings for this show. It might be truer to say it is a kind of group show within the broader exhibition rather than a collaboration. At the same time, the workshops were intensely collaborative processes between me and the other teachers, between the teachers and the participants, and between the participants themselves.



I asked everyone involved to think within the very broad thematic framework of ‘imagining a future’. It turned out that we were all able to proceed in our lives only by not thinking too hard about where history tells us we are going. This is true now for people everywhere, as demagogues rise and crises loom. Still, you will see in the works some of what we were variously holding onto, or hoping for, or witnessing, regarding the times to come: mutating religious impulses, the sense of precious fertility, communal discord, thwarted resistance and the imperilled substance of life itself. But back to process. I was the leader of one workshop and a student of the others. So, part of what you see here is what I made in and between the workshops, including my first attempts at printmaking, my first bronze sculpture and my first felt work. I’m also showing some of the many collage works I produced in two distinct situations: one, as a demonstration while teaching my workshop; the other pieces emerged while I was bored and lonely, staring into the forest, waiting for inspiration or company, for something to happen or for someone to turn up. To step back to the development question, the time I spent at the Kirsten Kjaers Museum in 2016 showed me that this volunteerrun, autonomous cultural institution and its contextual community need continuous loving energy to stay open. So, employing mainly local people to share their skills with other locals in the summer 2017 workshop series was my contribution to the ongoing health, connectedness and creativity of the place and its population. I began my time at the museum a distant observer but I somehow became one of those sources of energy. I hope!

What was your experience of place? I understand loneliness was a problem in the early part of your residency. I had never been to Denmark or to northern Europe, so the long, long summer days and bright brief nights were a source of amazement to me – as were the blackness of the forest shadows and the aching sense that nearly all the animals that once teemed under the trees are gone now. So too the thickets of feral roses – all thorn and fairytale – the thousands of swooping swallows, the fjord gleaming in the distance, the jewelled raspberries growing around the house,



the faded mid-century furniture, the vast windows, the hours-long sunsets, the little toads, the mottled toadstools, the Spiders That Do Not Bite … But my first visit, for a month in 2016, was also very lonely. The museum had few visitors and no other artists for almost the entire time I was there, which I think was part of why I devised such a sociable project for my return. The workshops seemed a useful offering for the people and the place, as well as a way to alleviate solitude. Is this work in line with your general approach to artmaking? I don’t know if I am the right person to answer this question! I try not to have a ‘general approach’ but to be responsive to what and to whom I encounter. I have a sustained interest in nourishing the capacity for and love of collectivity, and in supporting or devising structures and situations for creative cooperation and sharing. I guess that however open I try to be, these values and practices come with me. I have often given workshops and masterclasses as part of the cultural projects I’ve been involved with, but I have never organised other teachers before. It was a joy to learn from them, so I hope to work like this again.


What is the main idea behind this work and how did it develop?


Amnesia–The Eagle and the Rabbit is an artwork that has developed slowly during the last year and a half. Arriving in Western Australia, I deliberately hadn’t planned my project in detail. I reasoned that for a Scandinavian who had never been to Australia before, let alone to a remote place like Hopetoun or Ravensthorpe, I couldn’t risk building my intentions on false assumptions about what such a place would harbour.



During my two visits to the Ravensthorpe–Hopetoun region the most overwhelming experience was the absence of people who could reveal its history. The wild landscape is overwhelmingly marvellous and so different from anything I had previous experienced. I didn’t recognise anything as familiar. It was obvious to me that nature, literally and figuratively, would stay impenetrable. When I slowly began to explore tiny bits of this land, with great and essential help from locals, it revealed some of its treasures. Most, however, were kept firmly hidden. In the landscape, I first discovered traces of human activity, left by one-and-a-half centuries of European settler activities. Townships, roads, mines and farms are unmistakable landmarks of current activities, all of which can be considered scars on nature. The close surroundings of Ravensthorpe and Hopetoun are also scattered with disintegrating manmade structures of near-past human activities. Some of these are popularly known, as they are very visible and may also be part of common memory. There are a few people who are trying to keep all this information alive, but the majority have little interest. But where are the traces of the human activity prior to the European wave of settlers? Where and how could I explore their landscape and their ideas and stories of the land? This project attempts to display overlooked information, which would be available to us if we could understand what we are looking at. What does the land tell us? What can people tell us about this land?


How did your relationship with the host organisation and the local community develop during the two parts of the residency? International Art Space and Ravensthorpe Regional Arts Council have been the best hosting organisations I could ever have asked for. They have both supported me, my ideas and the process of the project to an extent I didn’t think possible. All communication, which is crucial for such a project, has been working very well. Both organisations worked with wide-open attitudes and made it possible for a new project to come to life. Every single person involved in the Ravensthorpe Regional Arts Council opened their hearts and homes to me, and they shared information, networks and



anything I asked for in a most generous manner. From day one, I felt welcome and I was immediately introduced to people in the communities of the two townships of Hopetoun and Ravensthorpe. This led to a quick start in my quest to know the people and get access to their stories about themselves and the land they are living on. The project we made together in Hopetoun and Ravensthorpe during almost two years is the result of a process. Every single person that has been involved has brought something important to its creation. We went on an unknown endeavour and everyone went on it with vigour and joy. The Arts Council and the people involved have been brave. No-one who contributed their stories, knowledge and help will be forgotten. Every person involved is as important as the others.

In what way does this project reflect your artistic approach and sensibility? A conclusion of my experiences in this part of the world is that I know very little – even if I have come across more information than I expected. It is humbling to let reality take over and realise that your individual knowledge is a shallow source to work with. The reality is always complex and usually too large for one individual to comprehend. That is why I hope my work will help us to remember and to create a sustainable life and future in Hopetoun and Ravensthorpe, Western Australia, and everywhere.

Can you elaborate on the ideas and motivations behind this work?


The starting point for this project was norms in society and how they affect individuals differently. Norms are built in a local context but also globally. Historically, colonisation set a foundation for norms, which limit the lives of people today. However, the recent development of real-time communication can promote openness and norm-critical thinking, as well as provide for social norms to spread globally. My intention was to discuss these norms in a local context, in Lancelin, Western Australia, as well as in Finland. A lot of similarities were found between the places, and it seems that sometimes the size of a community affects the outcomes of social norms more than the side of the world on which we are positioned.



What were your first impressions of Lancelin and how did your relationship with the place evolve? Lancelin was welcoming and I really found my place at Wangaree Art Centre, where I was working during the first phase of my residency. During the second phase of the residency, I aimed to work also outside of DADAA. Reaching people worked fine when I approached them personally, but trying to invite people through an open call proved too much of a step into the unknown for people to come. Nature-wise, Lancelin has fantastic scenery, and I enjoyed the chance to try to learn surfing and to look at the dolphins every now and then.­ Is this work related to your previous practice and how does it reflect your core artistic interests? My artistic practice has circled around identity and equality for a long time. Also, community art as a way of working has been the core of my artistic practice for a long time. The context of DADAA, Lancelin and the spaced 3 residency gave me the opportunity to develop a new body of work and a workshop concept to talk about these things on a personal level with global relevance. I am very grateful for this opportunity.




Your work focuses on Icelandic public hot pools, which are an important aspect of Iceland culture and society. Can you elaborate on the origin and motivation of your idea? Hot tubs are a quintessential Icelandic social space, used as a place to relax, gossip and even do business. The hot tub culture is a well-established and ingrained part of Icelandic culture, with a long history and growing from the naturally heated geothermal nature baths throughout the country.


At the beginning of my time in Skagaströnd I felt quite removed from interaction with anyone Icelandic. The Nes residency space is run by and is full of foreigners, so I felt it wasn’t easy to meet local residents organically, except for a polite ‘hello’ at the one small shop in town. It was only when I started visiting the town’s hot tub that I began speaking directly to residents, who shared with me many intricate local details about place through their lives, community and culture.



This was your first residency in Iceland. How did your engagement with the place unfold? While I was there it was so cold outside that when you ran into people on the street the most you could really do was say hello. It was too cold to stop and chat. The warm water of the hot tub was the place I really got to speak in depth with local residents. The specific local knowledge gathered from these informal conversations really started to shape the place for me. Before arriving in Iceland, I wasn’t aware of just how central hot tubs were to Icelandic communities. But being based in a town of less than 500 people, I met a wide cross-section of the community through my hot tub visits. On my second visit to the hot tub one of the fishermen invited us to come to the docks the next day, where he gave us a giant Atlantic cod and haddock they had just caught. In the hot tub we had spoken in length about changing fish stocks, climate change, long-line fishing and the rough seas. It was after these first few visits that I realised the way to meet other SkagastrÜnd locals was to spend more time in the hot tub. Conversing in the warm water, as the outside temperature rapidly got colder through the duration of my residency, felt like I had cracked some kind of code to further understand this small fishing village. I mapped out the conversations I was having and, interestingly, many of them linked back to the fishing industry, while simultaneously revealing specific and subjective local knowledge. I also hosted some drawing workshops with the local primary-school kids, who illustrated some of the recurring themes of the conversations.



What is the relationship between this work and the rest of your practice? I create site– and situation-specific works that explore the politics of space. I often create temporary architectures that play host to various dialogical events. In this work, the hot tub took the place of a temporary architectural space in which these conversations unfolded. This discussion-based process was a more informal method than I often use in my practice, shaped by the nature of the place. Through the conversations I had in the hot tub, my work explores the spatial politics of Skagaströnd by looking at various themes, such as labour, food, economics and displacement, and how these link back to the fishing industry and are embedded in the locals’ lives.


Your final artwork comprises several components. What is their origin and how do they relate to each other?


The installation Kayili (North in Kuwarra) There Is a Hot Wind Blowing refers to climate change, privilege, old knowledge, language, technology, anger, love and, simply, plain living. The work has several media, such as video and sound, photographyturned-textile. The stop-motion animations are of goldminers’ old wood patterns, which were handmade and used for machinery, and is a direct response to Donna Reid’s wood sculptures made from the same material. They are related to my experiences in the goldfields, and the works attempt to weave together different senses of time and poetically merge the complexity of landscape, Indigenous knowledge, immigration (goldminers) and current affairs through the lens of my research and through integration with the community.



How is this project related to your practice in general? Does it contain themes that are recurrent in your work? Although this project has clear anthropological, ethical and documentary gestures as an outcome, it follows my usual way of going to places and meeting with locals, listening to their stories – often histories and stories not part of the distributed historical context. I often go to places others don’t, often places with a dark history and that are to access, so-called ‘thin places’ – a term coined by the ancient pagan Celts and, later, Christians. I have wandered many peripheral places for many years, in the northern hemisphere through Iceland, Sweden, Norway, Finland, working closely with different Sámi people and landscapes; as well as in the Australian outback, on the west coast of Tasmania and in Warrangulla country in New South Wales. The attraction of places that don’t offer any comfort, places that have a bad reputation, has been my ‘guide’. Why? Well, why are some places called divine and others filled with dread? For me, a pattern has emerged, and I think it was Kierkegaard who suggested that travel and life is best understood backwards (as memory) but has to be experienced forwards. This territory seems ineffable; it is hard to express because it’s beyond the power of language to do so. To me, it’s a feminist gesture to be a lone female wandering across borders and desolate land. It also highlights my privilege as a white person. My interest in peripheral living, old knowledge, combined with technological progression often takes shape through a merging of materials – phased out and new technology as a way to play with timescales.



To what extent was this work influenced by interpersonal relationships with local residents? The work I have made highlights the close relations I built with the Kuwarra women Geraldine and Luxie Hogarth, learning about their family history and about Geraldine’s OBE for her and Luxie’s work helping to restore Kuwarra language and her work for hearing health. This work and the medals are now on public display at the Leonora Shire office, something I helped design and organise with Elaine Labuschagne, the region’s heritage manager, in 2016. In 2017, I also employed Tjupan/Noongar man Dennis Simmons Jnr as an artist assistant, producing the community project Light & Language. He gave me a deeper insight into his heritage, life and worries about our common future, and into being young in a place like Leonora. The Gwalia Ghost Town saviour, Nebraskan artist Donna Reid, whose path I first traced subconsciously and later consciously, is deeply embedded in the work through interviews at her studio in Adelaide and through displaying her sculptures as part of the exhibition at the Art Gallery of Western Australia. One part of the video work is a more abstract gesture relating to the usurping of metals and minerals through extensive mining, human desire and greed, and the peripheral existence of different species. Several other community members have also contributed, especially heritage manager Elaine Labuschagne, Felicity Harris and Jennette Maxfield from the local school, Walkatjurra people Deeva, Kado and Kubi Muir, and local artists Roderick Sprigg and his wife, Talitha.



If you question a social environment not everyone is comfortable in talking about openly, you will always grow in your understanding. But earning that knowledge demands you sometimes step off the edge of a cliff. I grew up in independent Jamaica, which still has many traces of the British colonial system of precision. This precision was not enforced as harshly as I now understand it must have been in Western Australia. There is a type of propriety that extends far into the landscape, and there is a morality that is constantly inflected with right and wrong.




Many times, I heard people here in Busselton speaking of the beauty of this environment. But why is hardly anything spoken about the fragility and brutality right below the surface. And what is natural beauty anyway? Is a swamp less beautiful than a vineyard? Economy, family history, ethnicity, social background etc. determine what type of access we have to the social environment, and how we interpret it. In Busselton, people are living with very different perceptions of reality. There are those who have the courage to break social conventions, carving their own path by creating new models of interpretation. During British colonisation, people were made to believe that certain questions could only be asked and answered by specific groups. The divide-andconquer mentality similarly bears repercussion in terms of who can say what, and where one should and should not go. Yes, I am a Black woman, and I must say that in Western Australia the environment is especially raw – as if you are stepping off right after and into a history of slavery and genocide.



By asking questions about people’s perceptions, their answers too will be linked forcefully to their own sense of power and empowerment in their community, or the lack thereof. The relationships I have built slowly and intensely along the way here have contributed to my perception and understanding of the environment and its communities. People’s stories are very powerful and made me reflect on resilience. People have had to survive the odds in the best way possible. The fragmentation that exists is a direct result of a brutal force inflicted on many people, and it continues to bear effects with which people live in the best way possible. It has caused people to create their own groups based on feelings of not ‘fitting in’, and this alternative route has become a form of survival and empowerment. But nightmares recur. There were days when after I had listened to people all I could do was go to the beach and stare at the water. There were moments when I could only speak of mundane things and listen to small talk here and there. In a way, I have been in survival mode. The exhaustion I felt when I came home expressed how much had gone on in two months of intense production that felt like a half year.

Your site of intervention was a glass factory in a small country town. How do the works you present in this exhibition respond to it?


The artworks created during the two residencies evolved from the initial engagement with Rejmyre Glassworks in northern Östergötland, Sweden. This factory was founded in 1810, specialising in custommade glass, and is Sweden’s second-oldest glass mill still in operation. Rejmyre is a township of approximately 1000 people, a dwindling population since the factory output slowed in the post-industrial period.



The three works in this exhibition respond to time spent with the glass-blowers, factory owner, shopkeepers, gallery museum attendants, factory workers, Swedes, Syrians, antique dealer, coffeeshop owner and her extended family, blacksmith, tourists/visitors, residency artists, farmers and funding bodies, as well as in the pizza shop, aged-care facility, co-op, commune and at a Swedish film … Water Without End was the first work I made at the glass factory. It is pure observation, a response to a glass of water. It represents the quenching of labour. Mesmerically, a glass of water is endlessly filled, interrupted only by the glass-blower’s sure hand. The sound installation I Am Jet Black Glass was integrated into the environment of the Rejmyre Glassworks’ shop. Originally, 30 glasses were purchased and reinstalled in the back room – the discount section of the shop. One glass was selected to speak from the back row, and she talks about what it is to exist as a glass object. It is a work that plays with the single voice in a group. In the Art Gallery of Western Australia exhibition, the work offers a new expression for the collection of 30 glasses. Barn Wall–I AM GLA(S)D, a mobile performative installation, responded to the Swedish landscape and the historical falu röd (the paint colour of the rural barns). A text encoded in the slats of the transparent structure only became legible when the sun or artificial light projected the inverted letters onto the ground plane. The villagers, children and tourists were invited to draw the radiating words that fell as momentary shadows. The charcoal and chalk texts remained until the weather and street life dissolved them. In the version presented at the gallery, without the solar energy, the object remains static. A projection on the gallery floor mimics the movement of time and light, offering an additional element of translation.



Did your relationship with the site and host community change during the two-part residency? The residency was undertaken with Rejmyre Art LAB, an artist-run initiative established by Sissi Westerberg and Daniel Peltz. The program includes a mix of dedicated time for developing ideas and work, collaborative exercises, intensive peer critique, theoretical discussion groups, swimming in lakes and communal meals. The residency is rooted in the engagement with the local context. During the first part of the residency, I took part in the Performing Labour LAB with a group of international artists – working in the glass factory alongside the glass-blowers, taking part in the daily routine of the workers, blowing unique glass objects and performing for tourists. During the second part of the residency I worked more independently. I returned to Sweden with a series of ideas that developed both inside the factory and on the streets of Rejmyre, constructing and then performing in various locations in the small township, establishing trust and relationships with many in the commun(e)ity. How does this project reflect the principles and interests that guide your practice? My practice builds on conceptual continuity, allowing for the translation of ideas and messages into an eclectic body of work – multifaceted conversations. The works are not bound by medium or scale, large public commissions contrasting against smaller sound and light works. Engaging cultural connections and linguistic nuances, my works are often site-responsive. The works I have created throughout the spaced 3 residency have a direct relationship with my body of work, incorporating language, found text, whispered thought, objects that speak, poetic representations of architecture and of phenomena from historical cultures.

MY PRACTICE BUILDS ON CONCEPTUAL CONTINUITY, ALLOWING FOR THE TRANSLATION OF IDEAS AND MESSAGES INTO AN ECLECTIC BODY OF WORK – MULTIFACETED CONVERSATIONS. I often ask questions to guide and realise my practice. The following questions surfaced during the two residency periods: How long does foreign remain other? How can our voices be heard among those that speak in another tongue? How can we find a path into the hearts of others? What happens when change is upon us? What happens to life, dreams and fantasies when the reason changes? How do we live through change and still find our way? Is the familiar the only thing that remains comfortable? Do the polite and reserved help retain order? Do egalitarianism and reserve retain order in society? How does the extraordinary silence listen to my thoughts?





Gotland’s geology and history play an important role in this work. How do you see the relationship between these two dimensions of the site? I was almost instantly struck by the visibility of different temporal markers evident on Gotland’s surface. Ancient fossils, which comprise the 420-million-year-old bedrock, are the foundation for Viking rune stones, medieval buildings, World War II bunkers and 21st-century industry. These different entities seemed to me to be operating concurrently, collapsing different timescales together and creating unique assemblages of things. The film I made traces some of the interwoven stories of stone, tree and water, punctuating them with episodes of human and cross-species connection. In the work’s narrative, historical data and (science) fictional elements are knitted together to tease out some of the ways in which the island’s geological fabric has been encountered, used, studied and/or catalogued in various ways. Video is often a key ingredient in your practice. How would you describe your approach to this medium? For me, the process of making video is usually in two stages: collection and editing. For Lithic Choreographies, I started with a loose script built from my research; from that I collected a range of video and audio material. Each part of the shoot was treated in relative isolation, the locations and people primarily dictating what was captured. With a method that sits halfway between documentary and fiction, my shooting style works with the fabric and narratives of place to allow daily actions to evolve naturally, while I also occasionally mix fictional threads into the scenarios. Once the shoot is complete and a miniarchive of material has been amassed, the editing starts. Here, I draw upon all my preconceived ideas, but simultaneously view the footage afresh, allowing for previously unexplored ideas to evolve. For this film, I use a mixture of static tripod shots, handheld camera work and aerial drone footage. It was important to allow the material protagonists – in this case Gotland’s landscapes, buildings and people – to speak without much interference.



How did your experience of place evolve over the course of your residency? Upon arriving on the island, I started from the position of solitary exploration of landscapes and potential filming locations. With the generous help and support of Anna Norberg and Helena Selder at the Baltic Art Center, I was introduced to dozens of locals whose daily experiences and navigations of Gotland strikingly affected my view of the island. Of specific note were Sara Eliason at the Gotland Museum, the Department of Archaeology at Uppsala University, Johanna Pietikäinen at Konstnärshemmet Brucebo and the entire community at Suderbyn Ecovillage. Each encounter was marked by a unique set of routines and practices of care – or registers of attending to the island – that highlighted specific connections between the island’s life forms and revealed complex temporal layers embedded in its social and material fabric. Sara, the palaeontologist who manages the museum’s fossil archive, is undertaking a careerlong project of archiving every one of the 30,000 boxes of fossils donated to the museum in the mid-20th century. This vast collection of specimens provides for a deep-time perspective on the materiality of Gotland and the ghosts of past life forms that lived in equatorial oceans and are now preserved in the Baltic limestone sediment. The timescales along which Sara thinks extend far beyond human experience and demonstrate the undeniable fact that human existence is only a brief moment in the history of the planet.

In contrast to the deep time of the archive, Olivia Gustafsson and Hanna Sjöberg – archaeology students at the local campus of Uppsala University – are working to examine skeletal remains of humans and animals unearthed from dig sites across Gotland. The artefacts they have chosen to study chart some of the more recent history of human interaction with the island and evidence moments of conflict and trauma. The shards of bone carry haphazard fragments of narrative that have been further eroded and obscured over time. In a similar scenario, Johanna at Konstnärshemmet Brucebo is cataloguing the idiosyncratic collection of rocks, vases, skulls, spears, books and countless other objects amassed by the artist couple Carolina Maria Benedicks and William Blair Bruce during their lives. The pair built Brucebo in the early 1900s, as a place for them and other artists to live and work. Although it has passed through numerous owners, it is relatively unchanged today; it is a frozen time capsule devoted to a personal collection of things. Suderbyn Ecovillage is an international community of people who live and work in a series of buildings (including a geodesic dome) with a sustainable environmental footprint. The permaculture principles they use to farm dictate a seasonal approach to time, and in the early spring days of mid-April, teams of people were focused on completing their biogas production system, garlic planting and caring for seedlings in the greenhouse. The cyclical nature of their community is based on planetary time and is further evident in the constant renewal of volunteers who come to learn.

Balgo is quite an extraordinary community. What were your first reactions to it and how did your experience of place evolve?


Travelling down the Tanami track from Halls Creek for over six hours, the vastness of the surrounding landscapes is what hit me first. Even if the Balgo community only has some 400 inhabitants, it feels like a very hectic place: people are out and about, lots of cars, kids playing. The shop is always really busy. Then if you walk out into the desert, just 30 minutes away you’ll find yourself in this enormous landscape. Walking along an escarpment, you have this unobstructed view over what was an ocean floor millions of years ago. The stillness and eternal feel of the desert is such a contrast to the community. So, I guess my first reaction was about the contrast.




As an architect spending time in Balgo, it is hard not to become aware of some of the negative sides I believe are inherent in all architecture. Even if architecture in many ways makes life easier and more comfortable, there are also other ever-present dimensions of subduction, social control and oppression. What are the challenges and opportunities of working in such a culturally strong Aboriginal community? Balgo is a community built on and around institutions, such as the church, the school and the clinic. The Warlayirti Artists Aboriginal Corporation stood out to me as a very positive place. This art centre is important as a source of income but, more importantly, it is a place where everyday culture and knowledge is being made, kept alive and activated. The value of the art centre in the community cannot be overstated; without it, I think Balgo would disappear. As for the challenges, it comes down to the difficulties of being a small, isolated community – and the relationships between Kartiya (white people) and the local community are complex. In the essay ‘Kartiya are like Toyotas’, author and artist Kim Mahood describes this with great precision. Remote communities struggle with continuity, and the power of existing structures and social circumstances are often overwhelming. The turnover of staff coming in and out of the community is very high, and that means always starting new relationships. The art centre has had three managers since I started the project. Instead of much-needed continuity, new projects emerge amid a constant shifting of staff. The goal for self-determination is very far from becoming reality. Some reasons for this are embedded in the historical material structures of Balgo, but they also arise from mostly immaterial structures. They need deep local knowledge and time to be resolved – something the current situation does not allow.



What is the main idea behind the work you present in this exhibition? The work combines architectural drawings and commissioned paintings to share stories in a collaborative work, on site, country, material, labour, architecture and the production of space. The drawings and paintings cover the history of the Old Balgo Mission in differing ways. Many of the older artists at Warlayirti Artists Aboriginal Corporation grew up in Old Balgo, often taken from their parents at a young age to be brought up by nuns, to live in dormitories and go to school at the mission. The first simple structures, now mostly in ruin, stand in the landscape as memory traces of childhood, but are also reminders of how architecture is linked to oppression, colonisation and cultural warfare. As an architect, I was interested in the history of Balgo’s built environment, how the recent past still reverberates through the community, how Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people alike still try to adjust to the impact of these structures. From numerous bush trips with art centre artists, I gathered information about the old mission, and so the paintings tell stories about fundamental changes in history, culture and everyday life.



DAN MCCABE | HYRYNSALMI Biography Dan McCabe is a multi-disciplinary visual artist based in Fremantle, Western Australia. His practice is concerned with critically interrogating the ethical complexities of global urban lifestyle and its impact on the natural environment. His recent projects take the form of sculptural installations, wall-based abstract compositions and photographic and video works, focusing on a variety of concepts, from housing affordability to doomsday ideologies, digital dependence to the integration of AI technology into everyday life. Acknowledgements A big thank you to Markku Mertanen from Ristijärvi, a total legend and the key to the local community through which many aspects of this project were made possible. Thanks also to blacksmith Mauri Heikkinen for sharing his craft, Liisa Misikangas for showing me how to source food from the forest, and to Anna and Heimo Mikkonen and their hunting group for inviting me along to elk season; to my partner Rosie for her continued support and assistance on site; to Guy Louden for lending an ear; to the Fremantle Art Centre for providing a much-needed workspace through its artist-in-residence program; to Tom Allum and Mitch Withers for their expertise and advice on making the video work; and finally to the Mustarinda family and visiting artists, who welcomed me, challenged me and made food with me.

attributes of popular culture with the concerns of visual art discourse. Rock/Pop classics are animated by novel lyrics that re-contextualize each song within art world history, theory, controversy and rumour, presenting a unique combination of rock’n’roll, performance art, pedagogy and humour. The Histrionics perform in custom-made Jackson Pollock drip suits accompanied by videos made by Kesminas, as well as an overhead projector displaying the re-written lyrics karaoke style.
 Kesminas’ recent band project PUNKASILA was formed on a residency in Yogyakarta, Indonesia in 2006 with a group of Indonesian artists. PUNKASILA play hand-crafted mahogany guitars that simulate hybrid M-16s/AK-47s and wear camouflage patterned hand-painted batik, tailored as military fatigues. The name, PUNKASILA, which literally means ‘punk principles’, derives from Pancasila, the five ideological tenets devised by Soekarno as propaganda to create a unitary basis of Indonesian nationhood. PUNKASILA has performed in Indonesia, Australia, and in 2009 at the Tenth Biennale of Havana, Cuba. Kesminas is also part of the conceptual art music collective Slave Pianos along with Rohan Drape, Neil Kelly, David Nelson and Michael Stevenson. Acknowledgements I am extremely grateful to Maria Gry Bregnbak for her generous support throughout this project.


DANIUS KESMINAS | COPENHAGEN Biography Born in 1966 in Melbourne, Australia, Danius Kesminas currently lives and works in Melbourne. Kesminas takes a multi-disciplinary, collaborative approach to his art practice, developing projects which often incorporate music and satire to investigate issues around art and politics. Kesminas’ band The Histrionics has released two albums, Never Mind the Pollocks, we’re the Histrionics (2003) and Museum Fatigue (2005), and have performed throughout Australia and Europe, including at the 2007 Venice Biennale. The Histrionics is a Concept-Art(Heritage)-Rock-Cover-Band. The band synthesizes the

Deborah Kelly is a Sydney-based artist whose work has been shown around Australia and in the biennales of Singapore, Sydney, Thessaloniki, TarraWarra and Venice. In 2017, her first international solo exhibition, Venus Envy, was held at the Kvindemuseet in Aarhus, Denmark. Her projects across media are concerned with lineages of representation, politics and history in public exchange. Most recently her work has been shown in PhotoBasel, Switzerland, 2018; the Strangelove Festival, Antwerp, Belgium, 2018; PortoFemme, Portugal; The Museum of Love and Protest, NAS Gallery, Sydney, 2018; My Monster, RMIT Gallery, Melbourne, 2018; and the historical survey Unfinished Business: Perspectives on Art & Feminism, ACCA, Melbourne, 2017. The collaborative portrait project



No Human Being Is Illegal (in all our glory), which she instigated for the 19th Biennale of Sydney, has toured to 12 eastern seaboard galleries since 2014. For the past decade she has offered public workshops in museum contexts and considers the shared process an artwork in itself. Her workshops have been held in Istanbul, Leipzig, Bandung, Berlin, Frøstrup, Aarhus and many Australian cities and towns. Acknowledgements I would like to thank spaced 3 for this opportunity to be part of the life of a precious cultural and community vortex in the far reaches of the world. I want to express my gratitude to Pia Skogberg and Zoran Luka for hosting me and promoting the workshops, and especially Pia for scheduling and facilitation. My thanks to the workshop leaders Pia Skogberg (printmaking), Elisa Hendricks (felt and textile work), Villy Dal (speculative journalism), Deborah Kelly (collage), Zoran Luka (mould-making and casting), and Daniel Green and Kate Byrne (cooking and storytelling). And special thanks to the workshop participants, whose works are reproduced alongside mine for the exhibition: for the flags Margit Binzer, Helen Duckworth, Helle Lindsman, Pernille Storm, Rie Tamaoka, Mette and Marie Terkelsen, and Covadonga Viedma; and for the texts Su Goldfish, Helga Thagaard and Veronica Tuells, translated and edited by Villy Dal.

GUSTAV HELLBERG | RAVENSTHORPE Biography The foundation of Gustav Hellberg’s practice lies in the public sphere, where he aims for interaction between people, artwork and public space. Hellberg has exhibited widely, with notable exhibitions at Raid Projects, Los Angeles; Madrid Abierto; Dunkers Kulturhus, Helsingborg, Sweden; Malmö Konstmuseum, Sweden; and European Media Art Festival, Osnabrück, Germany. In 2015, he presented solo exhibitions at Kunst und Kultur am Rosa-Luxemburg-Platz, Berlin, and Kunst Kraftwerk, Leipzig. During 2014, Hellberg exhibited in They Are Here Now, Kunsthaus Interlaken, Switzerland; thingworld, International Triennial of New Media Art, National Art Museum of China, Beijing; and Burlaks in Samara samt Dresden Public Art, Germany.

Acknowledgements Special thanks to International Art Space and Ravensthorpe Regional Arts Council, who made this residency possible and pleasant; to the movers and shakers Ainsley Foulds and family, Jackie Edwards and family, Di Belli, Sue Leighton and Colin Hughes, who opened their hearts and homes to an artist and stranger. For very important research information about Noongar culture, past and present – it touched my heart and I wish I had had more time, a lot of more time – my thanks to Harley Coyne (Senior Heritage Officer Regions, Heritage Operations), Ezzard Flowers, Vernice Gillies (Aboriginal Liaison and Community Engagement Officer, Western Australian Museum Albany), Ann Williams (Ravensthorpe Historical Society) and writer Kim Scott. Andy Chapman, Louise May Lodge and Fay O’Brien you have been most helpful in assisting me to see deeper into the past. Jo Darbyshire artist, you made me rethink and trust what I came across working on this project. A big hug to all the actors, whose pure energy brought life to the video and so much joy to the project: Claude Bennell, Jy Bennell, Harrison Bingham, Jordan Bingham, Olivia Bingham, Selassie Chaparika, Crystal Clarke, Brynn Edwards, Lucy Edwards, Eliza Edwards, Kasey Gordon, Wairua Hiku, Cara Jones, Tori Murray, Rose Redman, Callan Rogers, Cooper Smallman, Jarvis Smallman and Ashleigh Wilson. Yay for Hopetoun’s Men’s Shed, for all the stories, practical assistance and prop-making shared. For the video shoot, my thanks to John Carberry, A-cam, so much more than a videographer in the making of the video film; Jackie Edwards, tireless project coordinator, driver and fixer of everything that needed to be done; and Joshua van Staden, drone pilot and B camera – high-flying youngsters are great to have on board.

HEIDI LUNABBA | LANCELIN Biography Heidi Lunabba works with social and community art projects, often inviting people to participate. Through installation, photography and video she explores questions of identity, gender and communication in public and private spaces. She has an MA in fine arts from the Finnish Academy of Fine Arts and is based in Helsinki, Finland.



Acknowledgements I would like to express my very great appreciation to International Art Space for commissioning my work for spaced 3: north by southeast and Artistic Director Marco Marcon and Program Manager Soula Veyradier for their expert advice and for making this project possible. I would like to express my gratitude to Julie Grieves and all the other staff at DADAA in Lancelin for their willingness to give their time so generously and help out with various aspects of the project. I would also like to thank the artists at DADAA for their participation in the workshops that led up to the works produced, for sharing their stories and experiences in the ‘I usually don’t mention it’ and ‘Why try to change someone’ comics and in all the comics featured in the ‘Other, Lancelin slideshow’ and for their expert opinions as to which works from Finland would be relevant to show in the outdoor exhibition of the comics. Special thanks should be given to Nationally recognised Aboriginal LGBTI elder Vanessa Smith and Aboriginal LGBTI advocate and activist Esther Montgomery for sharing their intellectual property in the ‘Sistergirl’ comic, to art teacher Kim Campbell and her students in grade 4 for their work on the ‘I have nailpolish too’ comic and to Community Relations Coordinator Christine Bean at Tronox, Cataby and all the other staff sharing their stories in the ‘the Right Person for the Job’ comic. Finally I would Like to thank Mathew and Debra Rosser for hosting me in their home and Taike and Svenska Kulturfonden for financial support.

KEG DE SOUZA | SKAGASTRÖND Biography Keg de Souza is an Australian interdisciplinary artist. Informed by her architectural training and experience of radical spaces through squatting and organising, she explores through her practice spatial politics and the built environment, working across media such as temporary architecture, video, drawing, mapping, performance and artist’s books to develop collaborative and participatory experiences. De Souza often creates site- and situation-specific projects, emphasising reciprocity and knowledge exchange.

Her recent exhibitions include Common Knowledge and Learning Curves, Artspace, Sydney; The National: New Australian Art, Art Gallery of NSW, 2017; 20th Biennale of Sydney, 2016; Setouchi Triennale, Japan, 2016; Appetite for Construction, Contemporary Art Gallery, Vancouver, 2016; Temporary Spaces, Edible Places: Vancouver and Preservation, Contemporary Art Gallery, Vancouver & AC Institute, New York, 2015; Temporality in Architecture, Food and Communities, Delfina Foundation, London, 2014; Temporary Spaces, Edible Places, Atlas Arts, Isle of Skye, 2014; If There’s Something Strange in Your Neighbourhood, Ratmakan Kampung, Yogyakarta, Indonesia, 2014; 5th Auckland Triennial, 2013; Vertical Villages, 4A Centre for Contemporary Asian Art, Sydney; 15th Jakarta Biennale, 2013. Acknowledgements My thanks to the Nes Artist Residency, everyone who spoke with me in the hot tub, the Skagaströnd school, and Lucas and Ernie.

LINDA PERSSON | LEONORA Biography Linda Persson is a Swedish artist and filmmaker who lives and works between Sweden and the United Kingdom. Her work questions that which is historically repressed, about to disappear or already extinct. She explores the complexities of our surroundings through different materials and methods; for example, sculpture, textiles, 16mm film, HD technology and sound. Through fragments of information, true or false, past or present, she allows the audience to participate in her selections to create their own meanings. Persson has recently completed residencies in Iceland (Skaftfell Visual Arts), Australia (IMA gallery/ Sunsiz Media) and France (Treignac Projet), and has exhibited at SPACE, Vulpes Vulpes, Pavilion Auditorium, London; Galerie Nordenhake, Haninge Konsthall, Sweden; Sámi Dáiddaguovddáš, Norway; and Canapé Canopy, New Zealand. She has run selfinitiated projects/residencies and curated exhibitions, including Houseproject27, 2015; 5Months, 2013–14; and X-RAY, 2008–11. Between 2008 and 2014, Persson worked extensively with Sami culture and landscape



in collaboration with Ricklundgården, Vilhelmina, Sámi Dáiddaguovddáš, Karasjok. During 2011–12 she was awarded an artistic research fellowship, the Mejan Residency at the Royal Institute of Art, in Stockholm, and in 2015 received development support from AIDF UK/IMA gallery for her recent research and film work in Australia. Acknowledgements IAS Perth, Swedish Arts Committee and especially Elaine Labuschagne for all her support and help, Jim Epis, CEO Shire of Leonora, Manager Economics & Heritage Services, Shire of Leonora Geraldine and Luxie Hogarth, Dennis Simmons Jnr, Sue Hanson Senior Linguist, Goldfields Aboriginal Language Centre, Don and Donna Reid, Felicity Harris, Jennette Maxfield, Roderick and Talitha Sprigg, Walkatjurra, Leonora Community at large, Ulrika Flink and Liam Sprod.

MICHELLE EISTRUP | BUSSELTON Biography Michelle Eistrup is a visual artist who lives in Copenhagen, Denmark. She has a fine arts degree from the Royal Danish Academy and a Bachelor of Arts, with a major in socioanthropology and a minor in arts, from Haverford College, Pennsylvania, USA. Eistrup’s art incorporates themes of identity, corporeality, faith, memory and postcolonialism, and her transnational background (Danish, Jamaican and American) is sometimes a point of departure. She traverses artistic mediums, including photography, drawing, video, sound and performance, all integrated in a heartcentred practice that is led by spirit and a strong belief in the transformative potential of the collective. Rooted in a vibrant global arts community, she has exhibited internationally and organised events that facilitate in-depth dialogue and research between artists, writers and curators. Acknowledgements Many participants made a huge effort to share their stories and some have even made the leap to question their own lives. Perceptions of the other, when turning on the individual’s body, have taught lessons of unrevealed racism. I have learned a lot by stepping into people’s homes, where elements are not constructed but reveal true remnants of life, with deep memories displayed on the wall. I have tried to handle this trust in the best way possible.

Thank you to all who have contributed their time and energy, their enlightenment, guidance and love throughout. Vicky and Andy, who have been my lifeline, listened and given feedback, and Soula was a loyal ear to my constant recap. Gloria, Lola, Tessa, Robyn and Amanda for some glorious weeks gave their guidance, as well as glimpses and momentous openings into their lives. Special thanks to Amanda for your guidance, honesty and truth in every circumstance; to Joe for being a really good photographer, for finding timely and simple solutions to complicated filming situations, and for assisting me when I was at my lowest; to Anita, Alice and Scott for great transcriptions; to Mitchella for your wisdom and your understanding of the whole; to Rebecca and Alex for allowing us to film freely in your home; to Toni and Wayne for giving me insight into your lives; to Jacquie for brilliant planning and scheduling, and giving me a home when I needed one; to Celia for your heartening laugh, wit and humour; and to Marco, who has always kept me on top of the difficulties through your insight. To all the other participants a big thank you for your time, energy and contribution: Anne, Barbara, Francis, David V, Elaine, Emma Clare, Vernon, Julian, Jane, David P, Pradeep, Richard, Todd and Yati. Thank you to all who gave location access for filming, and to those not named but have also contributed even a small chat. Thank you to Art GEO, Diana and the City of Busselton for a working space and accommodation. And thanks to the funders: the Danish Arts Council, IAS spaced 3, Healthway’s Act-Belong-Commit, the National Trust Western Australia, the Danish Art Workshops, Fabrikken for Kunst og Design and Leipzig International Residency.

ROBYN BACKEN | REJMYRE Biography Robyn Backen is a Sydney-based artist, Australia Council fellow and a senior lecturer in Contemporary Art at Sydney College of the Arts, University of Sydney. She has created complex, multidisciplinary works that engage actively with the spaces they occupy. The formal and conceptual elements of each work respond to that site, be it an art gallery, a landscape or part of the built environment. By making poetic use of sound, light, projections and sophisticated computer-generated systems, these artworks engage their audiences in innovative ways.



Backen has undertaken many significant public commissions and shown work in solo exhibitions in museums and commercial galleries. Some major works to date include Delicate Balance, Ballast Point Park for the Sydney Harbour Foreshore Authority, 2009; Walls that Whisper, Museum of Australian Democracy, Canberra, 2009; and Weeping Walls, Sydney International Airport, 2001. She completed a commissioned performance, Last Word, for the Bundanon Trust, 2012, and most recently was one of four international artists invited to collaborate and develop the touring artwork Nomanslanding, Sydney and Germany and Scotland, 2015–17. In April, 2018 she was artist in residence at the Red Gate Studio, Beijing, China. Acknowledgements My thanks to Rejmyre Art LAB (Sissi Westerberg and Daniel Peltz), Christina Annkristin Stendahl, Rejmyre Glassworks team, Olav Lunde, Joen Lunde, Alex Auriema, Ian Hobbs, Oskar Backent, Roy Andersson, the University Sydney, and Artcom Fabrication (Mark Walkden and team).

SAM SMITH | GOTLAND ISLAND Biography Sam Smith is a video, installation and performance artist currently based in the United Kingdom. His exhibition and performance projects have been held at Whitechapel Gallery, London; Plymouth Art Centre; DAMA Live Programme, Turin; The Telfer Gallery for Glasgow International 2016; Australian Centre for Moving Image, Melbourne; KW Institute for Contemporary Art, Berlin; Institute of Contemporary Arts, London; Centro de Artes Visuais, Coimbra, Portugal; Gallery of Contemporary Art E-WERK, Freiburg, Germany; De Appel Arts Centre, Amsterdam; and the Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney. Hi co-authored book Here the Sun Does Not Enter was released by Assembly Point in 2017 and the monograph Sam Smith: Frames of Reference, featuring texts from Jan Verwoert and Post Brothers, was published by Broken Dimanche Press and Künstlerhaus Bethanien. He was a recipient of a Goldsmiths International Postgraduate Scholarship, an Ian Potter Cultural Trust award, and grants from Arts Council England and the Australia Council for the Arts. His previous residencies include Künstlerhaus Bethanien, Berlin; Helsinki International Artist Programme; and ARTSPACE, Sydney.

Acknowledgements My thanks to Nella Aarne, Antoine Arquié, Ana García Barbé, Helen Beltrame-Linné, Femke Blom, Angelica Blomhage, Elaine Bolton, Paola Ciliberto, Alisa Dendro, Bettina Donkó, Sara Eliason, Staffan Enström, Sandra Fröberg, Hélène Gibbings, Florent Golin, Olivia Gustafsson, Hans-Ove Hellström, Ville Jegerhjelm, Kamuran Kıvanç Kaftanoğlu, Lars Kruthof, Thibault Lac, Sergii Lutchenko, Jan Luthman, Marco Marcon, Bronwen Marshall, Tom Mels, Freya Mitton, Sarah Monnier, Anna Norberg, Gabriel Norberg O’Sullivan, Anders Nyström, Oskar Pedersen, Johanna Pietikäinen, Scott Ramsay Kyle, Helena Selder, Hanna Sjöberg, Dr Gustaf Svedjemo, Laura Vass, Soula Veyradier, Hanna Wärff Radhe and Petter Yxell.

TOR LINDSTRAND | BALGO Biography Stockholm-based Tor Lindstrand is an architect at the office of LLP arkitektkontor AB and a senior lecturer at Konstfack, University College of Arts, Crafts and Design. Together with the choreographer Marten Spangberg, he initiated International Festival (2003–10), a practice working on context-specific projects spanning buildings, publications, films, installations, public interventions and situations. In 2010, he co-founded Economy with art director Jessica Watson-Galbraith, working with architecture, art, education and pedagogy. Acknowledgements This project was made possible through the support of International Art Space, Warlayirti Artists Aboriginal Corporation and IASPIS – The Swedish Arts Grants Committee.


Principal Partners

Residency Partners

Organisational Partners

International Art Space Pty Ltd is assisted by the Government of Western Australia through the Department of Local Government, Sport and Cultural Industries and Healthway. International Art Space Pty Ltd is supported by the Australian Government through the Australia Council, it’s principal funding body, by the Visual Arts and Craft Strategy, an initiative of the Australian State and Territory Governments.

Additional information on all spaced 3: north by southeast projects, including all artworks, people, and sites represented in this publication, can be found online at: Published and distributed by International Art Space in partnership with the Art Gallery of Western Australia Catalogue design: Square Peg Design Printed in Perth, Western Australia by Advance Press ISBN: 978-0-9873647-4-6 Copyright Š 2017 the artists, the authors and International Art Space Pty Ltd All rights reserved. All works of art are copyright of the artist, all images are courtesy of the artist unless otherwise stated. This catalogue is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of private research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no material whether written or photographic may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the written permission of the artist, authors and International Art Space Pty Ltd.

ABOUT INTERNATIONAL ART SPACE International Art Space is a leading West Australian arts organisation presenting a program of ambitious and dynamic socially engaged and context-responsive art. We create diverse and challenging experiences for artists and communities through contemporary visual art.International Art Space (formerly IASKA) was formed in 1998 by farmers and art professionals interested in exploring cultural identity through art. Since its inception, International Art Space has run over 100 residency-based projects by artists from over 20 countries and organised five national touring

Profile for Art Gallery of WA

spaced 3: north by southeast  

On display at the Art Gallery of WA | 18 August 2018 – 7 January 2019 Organised by the WA-based International Art Space, spaced 3: north by...

spaced 3: north by southeast  

On display at the Art Gallery of WA | 18 August 2018 – 7 January 2019 Organised by the WA-based International Art Space, spaced 3: north by...