Trouble February 2018

trouble 153

33 award-winning Australian artists, including four-time Archibald finalist Abdul Abdullah, Rockefeller and Churchill Fellowship recipient Janet Laurence, and acclaimed Australian painter Ben Quilty have joined forces in an Australian-first public exhibition entitled All We Can’t See which will depict individual interpretations of the leaked Nauru files exposed by The Guardian in 2016.

Created by Arielle Gamble and Daniel New with the support of Human Rights Watch, All We Can’t See aims to raise awareness of the human cost of Australia’s offshore processing policies by depicting a selection of the leaked Nauru files, which include 2,116 individual cases of assault, sexual abuse, self-harm, child abuse and abhorrent living conditions endured by asylum seekers and refugees on Nauru.

IMAGES IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE FRONT COVER: Jamie Preisz, Blind: Self Portrait as the Blind Captain (detail) 2017, oil on canvas, 910 x 910 mm. Janet Laurence, Untitled 2017, acrylic over mirror, 500 x 500mm. Ben Quilty, 23 August 2014 2017, watercolour pencil on paper, 450 mm x 550 mm. Photograph courtesy Ben Quilty studio. Penny Byrne, Leaking like a Siev 2011, repurposed porcelain figurines, enamel paints, wood. Image credit: Matthew Stanton. Abdullah M. I. Syed, Flesh and Blood 2016, photograph. Peter Gardiner, Burning house II (Devil’s Island) (detail) 2017, oil on canvas, 1500 mm x 1300 mm. Sam Harrison, Untitled (detail) 2017, Woodcut on fabriano edition 1/7, 1000 x 700 mm.

ALL WE CAN’T SEE: ILLUSTRATING THE NAURU FILES Yellow House, 57-59 Macleay Street, Potts Point (NSW) 2 – 10 February 2018 allwecantsee.com

CONTENTS

ALL WE CAN’T SEE

Illustrating the Nauru Files ........................................................................

COMICS FACE

Ive Sorocuk ...............................................................................................

AUGMENTED ORGANISM

Cy Gorman ...............................................................................................

THE FUTURE IS CLEAR: BLAK-QUEER FUTURISM

Robert Ruckus ..........................................................................................

FEBUARY SALON

Far-sighted .................................................................................................

FINDING THE ART IN PHUKET: THE ART OF KEEPING IT SAFE

Anthony S. Cameron .................................................................................

02 15 16 18 26

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COVER: Jamie Preisz, Blind: Self Portrait as the Blind Captain (detail) 2017, oil on canvas, 910 x 910 mm. All We Can’t See: Illustrating the Nauru Files, Yellow House, 57-59 Macleay Street, Potts Point (NSW), 8 – 10 February 2018 - allwecantsee.com Issue 153 FEBRUARY 2018 trouble is an independent monthly mag for promotion of arts and culture Published by Trouble Magazine Pty Ltd. ISSN 1449-3926 EDITOR Steve Proposch CONTRIBUTORS Ive Sorocuk, Robert Ruckus, Anthony S. Cameron, love.

GET from AppStore FOLLOW on issuu, facebook & twitter SUBSCRIBE at troublemag.com READER ADVICE: Trouble magazine contains artistic content that may include nudity, adult concepts, coarse language, and the names, images or artworks of deceased Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander people. Treat Trouble intelligently, as you expect to be treated by others. Collect or dispose of thoughtfully.

DIS IS DE DISCLAIMER! The views and opinions expressed herein are not necessarily those of the publisher. To the best of our knowledge all details in this magazine were correct at the time of publication. The publisher does not accept responsibility for errors or omissions. All content in this publication is copyright and may not be reproduced in whole or in part in any form without prior permission of the publisher. Trouble is distributed online from the first of every month of publication but accepts no responsibility for any inconvenience or financial loss in the event of delays. Phew!

This comic first appeared in Trouble FEBRUARY 2014

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a trouble exclusive

Cy GORMAN & Jazmine GEIS Augmented Organism (Trailer) Augmented Organism is a stunning collaborative transnational art and design project between Melbourne based Cy Gorman and Hawaiian based Jazmyne Geis that brings together filmmaking, contemporary dance, technology and environmental activism, combining them with world wisdom traditions and myths. Augmented Organism is filmed in the breathtaking countryside of Finland on drone and handheld cameras. Five short film chapters set in vividly contrasting environments are weaved by Gorman into a feature film experience like nothing you’ve ever seen before. Each chapter depicts the journey of a mysterious being – performed by Geis – as a fusion of augmented movement, identity and environment, highlighting her character’s journey of adjusting, responding and merging with the changing landscapes around her. Premiering in Australia for the first time this is a must-see moving image work and will be complimented by an exquisite limited edition print series of film stills.

Augmented Organism, Manningham Art Gallery, 687 Doncaster Rd, Doncaster (VIC), 31 January – 17 February 2018. Artist Floor Talk and special viewing, 14 February, 6-8pm - manningham.vic.gov.au/gallery

The Future

Is Clear Robert Ruckus

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It is a beautiful occurrence to stand about and see people of all backgrounds come together, be happy and feel safe. Vibrant colours adorn the bodies of many who attend this exhibition opening at Blak Dot Gallery in Brunswick on a mild January evening, children dance about with their families, and the atmosphere cries out with community. A sense of (re)connection pulsates within this room tonight. This is the power of BLAK-QUEER FUTURISM. To be present here is to witness a glimpse of a future without restraint or fear. I identify as Australian born, from the blood of migrants, yet as much as this land is a familiar home to me, I have also felt as if I am a guest within it. These walls and floors, on the other hand, welcome me to the lands within the hearts of the multi-disciplinary artists these creations belong to.

A question resonates and flows through these works, as if the world outside as it currently exists is not the future it should be – the future that could be created.

Each artist’s personality shines throughout, with carefully considered elements that represent not only the artist themselves, but the deeply rooted connection to the world they exist within. Aspects of the earth – in land, in water, in the sky above, the fire within its belly beckoning from below – weaves itself around and along the concrete surrounds to offer a glimpse of co-existence between the natural world that welcomes us and the technological world that propels us.

It’s overwhelming the sense of joy it brings to be surrounded by people I love, people I wish were around while I was growing up, people who show me to be unafraid, who hold me when I no longer understand why this world is the way it appears (but does not want) to be. They welcome me home in my adulthood in a way that no other has. The night is filled with appreciation of difference, diversity, and the imagination of a future full of the warmth, colour and light that such things provide.

I am left with a notion that the future is to be as vibrant as the energy Alec Reade & Kalyani Mumtaz have managed to co-curate, instilling a positivity rarely experienced when thinking forward to that which formerly seemed inevitable – the tech dystopian wasteland. Blak-Queer Futurism is not a world built along such divided lines. This is not ‘us and them’, not the bleak, natureless face of a world destroyed by greed, toxins and plastics. In this gallery, tonight, the future embraces each guest equally and without restraint. We open ourselves to acceptance and hope, and here discover the wellspring of our joy.

PREVIOUS SPREAD & NEXT SPREAD: Jermaine Dean.

Curators Alec & Kalyani acknowledge and thank the Wurundjeri people and Elders past and present of the Kulin nations on whose lands this event took place, and granted the opportunity to discuss the intertwining presence of past, present and future through their eyes alongside the artwork adorning the Blak Dot Gallery walls.

You talked about looking backwards to your ancestry as a way to reconnect and understand your future. How has this affected you personally and in return affected your artistry?

Alec Reade: I think looking back has manifested in ways which I’ve always done, but until recently never understood or recognised. Whether by asking for permission from Elders, or inadvertently hearing of friends or family who seek guidance or talk to their ancestors, I hope to practice similarly. This may be in many forms, either through permission granted from elders of the community, through replicating arts practice from before our time, or through family research and story, we connect with these ancestors; and in many of our cultures it is understood that our ancestors walk through us. Simply by being, we connect.

So, by extension, creating something new can also be ‘looking back’.

There is a sense of reclamation of the body, of language, of symbolism, of the self, and of the land within these artworks. Why do you feel these artists all found similar resonance within their works?

A.R. In the process of co-curating the show, I asked each artist to focus on positive manifestations of the future, and to avoid responding to oppression, and so, naturally, each of the works encompass things that the artists look towards for strength, be that the self, the lands and waterways, or symbolism.

These outlets serve as foundations for many cultures, and individuals within a culture, within the show. So, rather than reclamation, it is a reinstating of each individual’s connection to those things. I think each artist was merely enacting their own truth, guided by their cultural understandings.

Kalyani, your artwork dissects aspects of consumption organically. What consumes you to analyse the intersection of the technological and natural worlds we are surrounded by?

Kalyani Mumtaz: Tech tends to be featured in dystopian narratives as sterile and destructive to nature/humanity. It’s something that felt very alien to me growing up in the forest. I would like to place tech in the hands of Indigenous peoples who are expert at developing tools while maintaining Eco friendly systems.

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There’s this risk, as you pointed out, about how being “on trend” – in regard to how queer people and people of colour are represented in the media – could lead to a reinforcement of the very issues you are attempting to tear down.

This appears to be an constant struggle at points of power, cultural and societal shifts. How do you therefore envision our future as embodied in this positive change and action?

K.M. I think the risk is more early-onset risk. Normalising what were once silenced narratives may be hard in the beginning as we decipher genuine response from misunderstandings or misrepresentations – who is just coopting narratives for social capital when it is ‘on trend’, who still thinks and enacts insidious forms of racial violence either with or without knowledge, and who genuinely tries to contribute to these narratives.

I think the fortunate thing about this is that once these perspectives take the forefront it will be hard to silence them or derail the conversations being had.

Those of us who are privileged and who also identify with those stories and lives that were once silenced are lucky, in a sense, as these conversations have been ongoing, but we exist in a time where communication is more accessible, and accessing these conversations is an ever-stronger possibility, so unification and mobilisation may also be made easy.

Already, you see this being enacted through movements such as ‘Black Lives Matter’ to protests against ‘Invasion Day’. Numbers are growing and connectivity is improving. The positive change will follow.

In our current climate there is a fight for identity. What is identity to you and at what point do we finally begin to start embracing all identities as the norm? And is this the true futurism?

A.R. The fight existed long before I joined it. I think the recognition and combating of White Supremacy, as well as Heteronormativity and Patriarchy is central to equity. I think futurism is intangible and what we do now is necessary to manifesting a future we desire. Embracing identities is the easiest part, addressing toxic forms of normativity and holding ourselves accountable when we regress is the harder part, which is why I see it as more necessary in the push forward.

Blak-Queer Futurism, co-curated by Alec Reade & Kalyani Mumtaz, Blak Dot Gallery, 33 Saxon Street Brunswick (VIC), 18 January – 4 February 2018 blakdot.com.au The Future Is Clear / Robert Ruckus

february salon

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1. Giles ALEXANDER, I’m gonna break right into heaven, I can’t wait anymore 2015.

Courtesy the artist, NKN Gallery, Melbourne. & 2. Tanya DYHIN, Rebirth 2015, synthetic flowers and PVC skeleton, 80 x 60 x 60cm. Private collection. & 3. Sam JINKS, Unsettled Dogs 2012, silicone pigment resin, human hair and fur, 64 x 62 x 23cm.

Collection RMIT Gallery, Melbourne. Imagine, Gippsland Art Gallery, 70 Foster Street Sale (VIC), until 18 March 2018 - gippslandartgallery.com

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4. Claudia GLEAVE & Megan KENNEDY, Making Sense 2018. Kings Artist Run Space, Lv 1, 171 Kings Street Melbourne (VIC), 10 February – 3 March 2018 kingsartistrun.org.au 5. Isaac Julien STARS, Looking for Langston Vintage Series 1989/2017, Kodak Premier print, Diasec mounted on aluminium, 180 x 260 cm, 70 7/8 x 102 3/8 in, Courtesy the artist and Roslyn Oxley9 Gallery, Sydney, Isaac Julien: ‘Film-Noir Angels’ Looking for Langston, part of the official program of Sydney’s 40th Mardi Gras Festival. Roslyn Oxley9 Gallery, Sydney, 8 Soudan Ln, Paddington (NSW), until 3 March 2018 - roslynoxley9.com.au 6. Annemieke MEIN, Fantail Rhapsody 1987. Private Collection. The Art of Annemieke Mein, Gippsland Art Gallery, 70 Foster Street Sale (VIC), permanent exhibition from 6 January 2018 - gippslandartgallery.com 7. Pia JOHNSON, Untitled II 2017, archival inkjet print, 59.4 x 84 cm, limited edition of 5 + AP. All We Can’t See: Illustrating the Nauru Files, Yellow House, 57-59 Macleay Street, Potts Point (NSW), 8 – 10 February 2018 - allwecantsee.com 8. Pia JOHNSON, Mother, 6 years old, Singapore – from the family archive, scanned from original photographic print, archival inkjet print. Image courtesy of the artist.

Pia Johnson: She that came before me, Manningham Art Gallery, Manningham City Square (MC²), 687 Doncaster Road, Doncaster (VIC), 28 February – 17 March 2018 manningham.vic.gov.au 9. Siri HAYES, Wanderer above a sea of images 2008, chromogenic print 108.0 x 135.0cm. Courtesy the artist and Monash University Museum of Art. Framing Nature, McClelland Gallery + Sculpture Park, 390 McClelland Drive, Langwarrin (VIC), until 18 March 2018 mcclellandgallery.com

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february salon

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FINDING THE ART IN

Phuket The Art of Keeping it safe

by Anthony S. Cameron

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Regular readers of my tropical ramblings (I know you’re out there, even if I don’t know what you look like) may argue that I circumvent the predominant art practise that you can find on this strange chunk of an island called Phuket. They would point out the tiny strip of art studios on Phang Nga road in Phuket town as a glaring omission, and I guess I would have to agree. The guys down there are doing great stuff (and yes, sadly, they are nearly all male), but it is nothing you wouldn’t find on a thousand funky little streets all over the world.

Sadly, there is nothing there that grabs me by the throat and puts that wicked smile on my face. There is nothing that has me stroking my imaginary goatee in ponderous wonderment or has me wanting to race home, full of inspiration, and start the forge. It took me years to form an understanding as to why the art is a bit like the famous Thai smile: beautiful on the surface but with an underlying howling emptiness that I can’t quite grasp. Alluring as it is to have a beautiful Asian woman smiling at you, I find myself, more often than not, looking away.

Great art engages, confronts, hangs out the dirty laundry for all to see. It challenges you, makes you squirm in your chair, makes you spill your coffee. It is an Instagram photo with all the filters removed, and all the blemishes, all the lines, all the scars exposed. Great art says things in a way that words cannot, and, interestingly, the safety of art’s subjective interpretation may even help to keep you out of jail, should you happen to be living in a military dictatorship.

And that’s the thing: it is a dangerous practise in any military regime to discuss, write, or paint anything that in western democracies would be considered healthy discourse. Don’t get me wrong here, I haven’t been out of Australia long enough to have the rose-coloured glasses glued to my face. Democracy in Australia, like everywhere else, is a thin veil at best, but as far as I know you can still take the piss out of just about anything and remain free to enjoy your Colombian de-caff latte with those complimentary biscottes as you ponder the fall of capitalism and the free market economy during your lunch break.

Finding the Art in Phuket / Tony Cameron

It’s not like the artists here are running scared. Twenty years of exposure to an authoritarian education system cures all but the strongest desire to voice dissent. And those few that do speak out, like some academics, are swiftly arrested and locked away for years, free to scratch their ‘free thought’ into their prison cell walls with a spoon.

Add to this the ever-present delightful distraction of food, some of the most bizarre TV soap operas I have ever seen, and a prediliction to keep things light and fluffy and you will start to get the picture.

As long as the art matches the curtains, its job is pretty much done.

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Hopefully by now I have raised some ire amongst you, dear faceless readers.

Bangkok has a very vibrant art scene, and if you manage to find the galleries hidden away in the basements and laneways, you will be pleasantly surprised at the diversity of the stuff on offer. Just don’t go looking for originality. Was it Picasso that said, “Good artists copy. Great artists steal”? [ed - for more info on this quote see: https://quoteinvestigator.com/2013/03/06/artists-steal/ ] If that is the case, then the Thai art scene has it down, dare I say, to a fine art.

Phuket is different to the rest of the country. It is a Thai anomaly. Some argue that it’s not even a part of Thailand, and let’s hope they are right.

There are more ‘copy’ art shops on this island than any other kind of art shop. They are everywhere, nestling up against the ubiquitous Thai massage shops, straddling hastily constructed Esan food restaurants and jockeying for prominence next to twenty baht shops (the Thai equivalent to two dollar shops). Al Pacino from Scarface and Heath Ledger’s Joker are thick on the ground here, as is the Afghan girl with the piercing green eyes. Mohammad Ali often gets a guernsey, as does Bob Marley, and I’ve even seen Robert Redford and Clint Eastwood painted on trucker’s mud flaps (another curious subculture worthy of an entire article on their own).

The art of the copy of the copy of the copy is in full swing here, and the beauty of it is that, over the years, the portraits have altered slowly, so that Clint is barely recognisable, having become a kind of juicy visual rumour, a haunting reminder of the clash between Western iconography and Asian culture.

Painting this kind of stuff will never get you arrested, never get you written up by a visiting art critic from the New York Times, and sadly, never give your soul a place to howl.

Besides, screaming the truth with paint on a canvas can really clash with the Lanna-style rug you bought for an absolute bargain, which was made by the northern hill tribe slaves. Art awkwardly confronts your leather sofa and your big ass TV. And if art doesn’t sell, or reach an audience, why fucking bother, right?

Call me a freak, but the art that confronts me makes me feel more alive, makes me feel like singing, gives me a feeling that this strange human experiment was worth it. Art’s job, as far as I see it, is to fuck me up a touch, unsettle me, and, dare I suggest, make me re-think my privileged position in the human soup. > Mud flaps and more, pics by Tony Cameron

ANTHONY S. CAMERON is an Australian ex-pat living in Phuket, Thailand, and the author of two novels, Driftwood (2014) and Butterfly on Bangla (2015).

His books are available on Amazon here. You can find his sculptural furniture on Facebook here.