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I was struck by how our memories are susceptible to modification. Like shifting sands, we rewrite memories each time we recall them; embellished, extended, conflated, minimized, and, in some instances, entirely fabricated. Kay Armstrong In reflection of her archive project for Dancing Sydney 2019

FAUX ARCHIVES, 2020 A photo essay of the artist Kay Armstrong by the artist herself.


Early years as a passionate young ingĂŠnue.

Photography and images courtesy of the artist

Kay Armstrong Š2020


Her infamous death scene.

Photography and images courtesy of the artist

Kay Armstrong Š2020


While craving the spotlight she was often found in hiding.

Photography and images courtesy of the artist

Kay Armstrong Š2020


Her career was as long as it was diverse. She spent a few years on the other side of the spotlight, trading in her costumes for the red tape of bureaucracy, administration, and grant writing, creating projects, initiatives, dance companies, and various other funded structures. Mostly for young people.

Photography and images courtesy of the artist

Kay Armstrong Š2020


Having little or no public performances her later years were spent in her studio with her dog creating faux archives. She was rarely seen in public.

Photography and images courtesy of the artist

Kay Armstrong Š2020


A candid shot late in her life adorned with feathers, an ironic reference to her formative training in classical dance.

Photography and images courtesy of the artist

Kay Armstrong Š2020


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