Kinds of Unmade

Kinds of unmade is the title of a body of work made for Beautiful Tensions: Gray Street Workshop celebrates forty years; a major exhibition by the four current partners of the workshop, Sue Lorraine, Jess Dare, Lisa Furno and Catherine Truman. It is hosted by the Jamfactory, Adelaide and supported by Create SA, Creative Australia and Visions Australia. It tours nationally during 2025- 2028.

The objects evolved to be more like dynamic tools, they have an ongoing life, a purpose. The main reoccurring theme is humanity’s poor track record of finding a balance with the natural world, the ways humans tend to toy with it, control it and bend it way out of shape. Ultimately, I found these themes were amplified by the choices I made with the materials and forms and my unorthodox construction methods, underscored by the method of display.

I chose to use fallen twigs and branches for the majority of this work, scavenged from farms, from urban streets, found crushed in carparks. From the very beginning these choices created some huge challenges. I was constantly confronted with cracks and wood rot and insect damage when I cut into the wood. I had to be very disciplined, slow right down, attend to each woody wound; repair, clamp, pin, glue, bind, and care for the wood; care for the old and the new shape I was making. I decided I would never abandon the branch, and overtime, it felt so right to fully immerse in the act of reparation, allowing direct experience and actions to lead my creative process.

The accompanying publication written by Anne Brennan, designed by Rachel Harris and published by Wakefield Press is available from the JamFactory. 08) 8414 7225
ali.carpenter@jamfactory.com.au

Click here to view a short video by Connor Patterson.

Wall of preserved consequences: I-scream-lady, 2024. Fallen red gum branches found Tungkillo, South Australia, thermoplastic, paint, repurposed vintage red cedar column, 830 mm x 330 mm x 110 mm

The figure is constructed from several fallen branches and twigs from an ancient red gum found on arid farmland in Tungkillo, South Australia. To achieve the illusion of a singular, naturally occurring form required patience, skilful carving and some unorthodox construction techniques. Whilst not originally intended, I-scream-lady’s outstretched arms and crossed legs, attached to a red cedar column are suggestive of a crucifix, a sacrifice.

Wall of preserved consequences is a series of three wall-mounted works: Twister, I-scream-lady and Bloodwood, intended as a series of open-ended narratives.

The materials are mostly found, gathered and salvaged from farmlands, urban roadsides, carparks and demolition sites.

The forms themselves present a deliberate conundrum of an indeterminate time and place; they are part manufactured, part organic and part synthetic; they are objet trouvés, relics of worship, lucky charms, documents of the past, the present and portents of the future.

Wall of preserved consequences : Twister, I-scream-lady, Bloodwood

L to R: Twister, 2024.Repaired fallen branches found in carparks at West Beach, Scott Creek, South Australia, copper and nickel discs, paint, repurposed vintage red cedar column, 1100 mm x 170 mm x 100 mm

Twister was made after reading about the oak trees on Isle of Marie in the North Scotland, where coins are hammered into the crevices of their bark in the hope of transferring sickness from the person to the tree. The oaks on the Isle have finally succumbed and died, however the custom prevails.

The tree is constructed from several crushed and splintered branches found in an urban beach carpark and a roadside pull over in the Adelaide hills. The tall red cedar column of unknown provenance, was found at a timber yard.

When making the tree, I ended up using many clamps to gently hold the pieces in place while the glue dried, it took a great deal of time and patience. This process assumed a certain amount of pathos, I felt I was attempting to rescind the damage. I then forged ninety-two nickel and copper discs and inlayed them into the surfaces of the column. It began to resemble a sacred relic.

I-scream-lady, 2024. Fallen red gum branches found Tungkillo, South Australia, thermoplastic, paint, repurposed vintage red cedar column, 830 mm x 330 mm x 110 mm

Bloodwood, 2024. Fallen red gum branches found Tungkillo, South Australia, red glass drops by Jess Dare, repurposed vintage red cedar column, 1100 mm x 260 mm x 110 mm

Bloodwood is a tree form made from several fallen eucalypt branches grafted to the complex contours of a red cedar column. Transparent red wine-coloured glass drops, flameworked by Jess Dare are embedded into splits and fractures in the wood as if the tree is bleeding. This work was a labour of love and an exercise in precision carving; part furniture, part tree, part holy relic

Bloodwood (detail)

Twister

Twister (detail)

Bough

Bough is a work in two parts - an object and a video.

The work explores the notion that humans bend nature to suit their needs, to control and possess.

Bough (the object)

Bough is made from an altered red gum branch found on arid farmland in Tungkillo, South Australia.

The construction of the object references both an articulated, segmented wooden toy and a medical model of a human spine.

Choosing to use a weathered, fallen branch had its consequences; each cut revealed new cracks, insect damage and dry rot to repair, glue, bind and clamp. I whole-heartedly immersed in the care and repair. It was so beautiful when the old weathered branch became fully articulated; like a young spine, like a slinky snake. The sound of the discs clinking together was a real surprise. I sense that there will always be a chance to find new meaning in this piece.

The object is displayed under a heavy, glass bell-jar handblown by Liam Fleming.

Inside the jar, Bough is arched to mimic The Old Gum Tree at Glenelg - the site where the state of South Australia was proclaimed as a British dependency in 1836.

The original tree, which has been dead for many years, was filled with concrete in 1963 and is now protected by a canopy. Historic reenactments of the ceremony are still held here annually.

Click here for Bough (the video)

The video was shot in the machine shed at Gray Street Workshop where the walls are clad in plywood and hold the tools used to make the object.

In the few minutes that unfold, I test and explore the movement of the articulated branch. After a while, I felt the object was driving my movement, not the other way around, I was being moved. The video was un-scripted, the sequence of movements evolved through repeating them many times and eventually it was shot in one take.

The creation of Bough was largely intuitive, it encapsulates all the key themes embedded in the entire body of work - Kinds of Unmade. It is a document, a process, an action and an artwork.

Bough (video still)

Bender

Bender is made from a fallen, weathered, red gum branch found on arid farmland in Tungkillo, South Australia and twigs gathered from urban streets around Thebarton.

The body of Bender is constructed like a vintage wooden toy snake using a re-purposed strip of leather sandwiched along the centre line to give it flexibility.

The glass vessel, made to resemble a collapsed scientific laboratory beaker was handblown by Liam Fleming in the Jamfactory’s hot glass studio.

Both the beaker and Bender are slumped and exhausted surrounded by withered, fallen leaves made from paper and cotton compound, pressings from silicon moulds of leaves from European trees.

There is a deliberate conundrum in the narrative and a nod to the role that citizen science plays in our general understanding of the natural world.

Bender (detail)

Case Studies: Non-stick

Case Studies is a series of three works: Unruly, Non-stick and Crackle.

Each work incorporates a repurposed vintage Australian oak and glass case originally made to house analytical scales used to take precise measurements necessary in science environments.

Inside, aloft or breaking free from each case is a ‘twiggy’ figure.

“Their habitats allude to human systems that both seek solutions to the environmental crisis and are implicated in it, but the creatures themselves also appear to be animated by their own autonomous sentient drives.”

Anne Brennan (Beautiful Tensions: Gray Street Workshop Celebrates Forty Years)

Non-stick, 2024. Fallen red gum and eucalypt twigs found Tungkillo, South Australia, fallen cypress pine found Gippsland, Victoria, thermoplastic, paint, vintage wood and glass analytical scales display case, 780 mm x 480 mm x 200 mm

Non-stick (detail)

Non-stick is an anthropomorphised tree sitting atop a vintage scientific analytical scales case.

The body of Non-stick is made from a fallen red gum branch found on arid farmland in Tungkillo, South Australia. Its limbs are made from cypress pine twigs from farmland in Warragul, Gippsland.

The limbs culminate in leafy fingers and toes made from thermoplastic impressions from moulds of feral olive and rose leaves, hole-punched to emulate insect damage.

Inside the case and breaching the sides of the case is a branch constructed from several eucalypt twigs with fluoro green thermoplastic leaves suggesting a genetic modification. The work refers to the precarious relationship we have with managing the natural and the unnatural environments.

Case Studies: Unruly

Unruly, 2024. Eucalyptus billet and fallen twigs found Tungkillo, South Australia, fallen cypress pine found Gippsland, Victoria, metal bullet casings, carpenters’ rulers, standard wooden rulers, vintage wood and glass analytical scales display case, 980 mm x 800 mm x 400 mm

Disobedient, immeasurable, wayward, intractable, defiant, wilful and incompliant, Unruly sits atop the case with arms gesturing wildly.

The body of Unruly is a small, straight log of eucalyptus rescued from a firewood pile.

The arms are vintage wooden carpenters’ rulers hinged at the shoulders with spent brass bullet casings. The legs incorporate fallen cypress pine twigs gathered from farmland in Gippsland, Victoria.

The case is filled with a tangle of rulers scavenged from op shops across Victoria and South Australia and gifted by friends.

This work was made in response to the true story of the world’s tallest tree at Thorpedale, Victoria. In 1884 a majestic mountain ash was felled by Bill Cornthwaite so its measurements could be taken by his brother, George (a government surveyor), to make the claim that it was the world’s tallest tree. A tall metal pole now marks the site.

Unruly

Case Studies: Crackle (detail)

Crackle, 2024. Charred fallen red gum and eucalypt twigs found Tungkillo, South Australia, charred fallen cypress pine found Gippsland, Victoria, thermoplastic, paint, acrylic sheet, vintage wood and glass analytical scales display case, 700 mm x 540 mm x 250 mm

Crackle: the noise a fire makes.

Crackle is influenced by a trip to east coast of Tasmania in October 2023 to Humbug Point, Binalong Bay; Blanche Point, Saint Helens and then west to Evercreech.

I was stunned by the seemingly random occurrence of fire-scarred landscapes and walked amongst the blackened trees with jagged, cracked branches and chain-sawed trunks and tangles of charcoal twigs thinking: Is this usual; a managed burn, deliberately lit? Lightning strikes?

In making this work I constantly felt as though I was breeching boundaries. It took a great deal of force to crack the branch in half, some strategic drill holes and a 3-ton fly press.

The surface of the branch was then charred with a propane torch and wire-brushed creating an effect that looks surprisingly like the velvety black pelt of an animal, very much alive.

The Taken Path

The Taken Path is a video and soundscape installation that was seeded during A Partnership for Uncertain Times , a project developed by Dr Deidre Feeney, University of South Australia, and the Australian Network of Art and Technology and Arts South Australia in 2023. It was then expanded for the 2025 Adelaide Festival and screened in The Wall Gallery at Carrick Hill, Adelaide. See this film for background information.

See the trailer here

Summary

The Taken Path is a speculative, durational project that hangs of a poetic idea; what would I notice if I walked the same path, once a month over the course of a year and filmed the journey?

There seems to be an innate drive in us to intervene in, alter and reorder the natural environments around us, even if we have no place in them.

During 2024/25 Catherine Truman worked in collaboration with Ian Gibbins to develop the project. Using an iPhone and a video camera, a defined path that traverses natural and altered landscapes at Carrick Hill was filmed at monthly intervals over a year to bring focus to these constantly shifting interrelationships.

Carrick Hill estate nestled in the foothills of Adelaide is a vast conundrum of these delicate connections between humans and the greater environment. It is a vast estate where pure fantasy and the hard reality of both ancient and present life can be encountered at once. It is like a microcosm of the wider world.

The concept is simple, yet this embodied action, repeated over time reveals profound shifts of climate and impacts of human industry. The project has opened new approaches to embodied observation and speculates that the seasons aren’t so orderly anymore; that there is a great deal of blindness and uncertainty shaping our relationship to the natural world

Artist Statement

It has been an immense challenge and a pleasure to create The Taken Path.

Together we’ve learnt a great deal about vision during this project, all the while focusing on a compelling set of rules that set our gaze front and centre.

Our awareness of the periphery has taught us surprising lessons.

For it is, in fact, what lay outside the plan, the places where the questions continue to pull and tug, that holds the most fertile ground; the fleeting, darting, unfocused blurs, much of which goes by unnoticed, living and dying in vivid cycles, interwoven in a parallel universe.

We are not at the centre of everything in existence. We are not the reason nor the solution, but we are here at the same time. We do not exist in isolation.

We are colour-blind at the edges until we change direction.

Catherine Truman in collaboration with Ian Gibbins

January 2025

Background: excerpt from artist talk, Carrick Hill, March, 2025

As an artist in residence, I have worked my way through many related medical and biomedical environments at Flinders University, where Ian and I first met, including anatomy, histology and neuroscience, always gripped by the subject of what makes up a human, quite literally- in terms of the complex structures of the body, and also how we all learn and develop knowledge differently.

During 2019 and into 2020, after a time in the microscopy suite I was particularly interested in human vision and pursued a creative residency in the ophthalmology imaging unit at Flinders Eye and Vision clinic. Here I discovered an amazing correspondence between the anatomy and physiology of the human eye and the structures of plants - particularly the branching neural and vascular networks and the photoreceptive cells found in the retina. And so, to learn more, I undertook parallel residency at the South Australian Botanic Gardens and State Herbarium. This creative research culminated in a body of objects and series of experimental films presented in an exhibition called Shared Reckonings at the Museum of Economic Botany.

At this time, COVID was having a huge impact across the world. The exhibition made it through, but the impact meant, for many, a time of isolation and introspection. Ironically, I felt it was a time to think more globally, in particular about our relationship with the natural world; about human impact, about survival and sustainability and then to take it in much more personally- and think about my role in all of that… what impact did I have and what role could I play in the future as an artist?

Two pivotal invitations followed one after the other, the first to be artist in residence here at Carrick hill and to create and present a body of work in response to the relationship between the house and the surrounding landscape. The second came from Dr Deirdre Feeney and the Australian Network of Art and Technology to participate in their project A Partnership for Uncertain Times…a year-long project that “focused on creative research with an emphasis on courageous experimental development rather that polished outcomes.

And so, in 2022 I immersed fully into the fabric of Carrick Hill that presented a conundrum of delicate balances between humans and the greater environment, particularly our drive to alter and intervene in the natural landscapes around us.

Firstly, I made a body of objects in response to the residency and presented an exhibition titled The Arrangements: assembling nature within the house museum for the 2023 Adelaide Festival.

It was a fulfilling experience, that provided a foundation for The Taken Path.

I decided to film a set path that traversed many different landscapes at Carrick Hill, once a month for a period of a year.

I chose a path that bisects the estate, with the house at the centre. One-half of the path extends out East from the front door and goes across the teardrop garden, up the stone stairs and continues up between a cathedral of ordered pines and gums ending at a magnificent old, old Grey Box eucalypt on the rim of endangered remnant Grassy woodland. And the other half of the path stretches from the back of the house down through the pair of elms, down through the ribcage of the pleached pear arbour, beyond the hedge and out between the rows of tall cypress pines and culminates at a singular pencil pine, contained in a curious iron-rod pyramid-cage on the Western urban boundary of the estate.

So many layers to pass through; of landscapes; of history and through all kinds of weather.

Early on I decided to invite Ian Gibbins to collaborate. I knew he would bring in both scientific and creative perspectives to open out the project.

Ian Gibbins, collaborator

Ian is a video poet and an emeritus professor of anatomy and a former neuroscientist and he and I share an avid interest in the intersections of art and science. In fact, we have been collaborating since 2006 and generated many projects together. We both find working across disciplines very fruitful.

The Project

As a catalyst I asked one simple poetic question: what would we notice if we walked the same path, once a month over the course of a year and filmed the journey?

Almost too simple for us complex beings. It was extraordinarily challenging at the start – it felt like a free-fall in a sense; a challenge to simply be observers and not to bow down to expectations.

So, we evolved a simple set of rules that guided the footage that recorded our monthly walks. I chose to use my iPhone and Ian a professional video camera. They were to be held at chest height always facing forward to film the path in front of us, accepting whatever the conditions were on the way. We would choose a random day and time, usually when Carrick Hill was closed to the public.

Each month, we’d arrive on site and go our separate ways each filming the entire path towards and away from the house on both sides. These were to be our core films . Each month, once the core films were done, we’d gather together to compare notes and then each follow whatever took our interest, usually things we’d sensed on the periphery.

For the final exhibition we included six video screens and four channel soundscape. Two screens, side by side, presented both artists’ footage of the walk in real time lasting over four hours, and an additional four screens explored the different peripheral aspects in a series of inter-related shorter videos.

The Taken Path will be re-calibrated and presented at Reciprocity, for ANAT SPECTRA, University of the Sunshine Coast in October, 2025

The Arrangements: assembling nature

This body off work was made in response to a residency that ran between February 2022 and June 2023 at Carrick Hill, in the foothills of Adelaide.

Built in 1939 in the style of the English Manor, Carrick Hill remains as one of the few period homes in Australia to survive with its original contents and extensive cultivated gardens almost completely intact and its grounds undiminished. Ringed by native bushland, it is a remarkable place for a residency to contemplate the ways we arrange and assemble the natural world.

My interest lay in unpicking the relationship of the garden to the house and the compelling connection between plants, people and art.

Over the year-long period of research and creative response, I explored the roles and rituals of cultivation, harvest, arrangement and display, that plants played in the life of the residents at Carrick Hill and considered the questions - can living with art inform the art of living in these times of great uncertainty? and how can we engage with the natural world when we have been increasingly distanced from it?

The wider context of the project, climate change, loss of biodiversity and the fragility of the natural world are grave and weighty issues, the macro environment of the house and garden at Carrick Hill enabled me to unravel these issues within the topography of a domestic and intimate setting. By using the language of the garden, the house and the art collection to convey ideas and propositions about global uncertainties my hope was to encourage dialogue on these concerns and reinforce the capacity of art to disrupt assumptions and expectations.

Caring deeply for the earth, for the continuance of life, for how we negotiate and balance survival and sufficiency with all life on the planet, underlies everything I strive to do as an artist.

The project culminated in an exhibition of works that were integrated within the house museum and a series of public events at Carrick Hill.

The exhibition The Arrangements: assembling nature was an official Adelaide Festival 2023 event

1st March - 30th June 2023

Carrick Hill

46 Carrick Hill Dr, Springfield SA 5062

Catalogue Hard copy available, please contact via Instagram Message

This year-long project is assisted by the Australian Government through the Australia Council, it’s arts funding body for the Arts and Arts South Australia.

Images by Grant Hancock

Milk Jug, 2022

Found dairy cow and kangaroo bones, polymer putty, paint. h 300 x w 360 x d 200mm

Milk Jug is fashioned from three dairy cow scapulae and the three kangaroo ribs that have been in my care since the early 2000s. They were found on roadsides and gifted to me and I think of them as sacred bones from beasts of burden - living creatures that have been impacted by colonisation and human industry. Today, in silhouette, on the ridges of the hills that border the estate, cattle can still be seen grazing alongside Western Grey kangaroos as they were in the era prior to the establishment of Carrick Hill.

Catherine Truman, After Hans, 2022

Found dairy cow and kangaroo bones, polymer putty, paint, vintage wood and felt stand.

h 450 x w 430 x d 300mm.

After Hans is my response to the Hans Heysen watercolour, White Gums, painted in 1935, that hangs in the dark oak corner of the dining room. I’ve chosen to use a collection of weathered bones from farm animals and indigenous fauna found and gifted to me many years ago. Assembled as a stand of trees, these bones, reference both the lyrical, ordered chaos of Heysen’s eucalypts, his iconic crisp light and the historical and contemporary land use of Carrick Hill.

Bone Chorus. Group of three: Holey gumby, Spout and Clump 2022

Found dairy cow and kangaroo bones, polymer putty, paint.

h 240 x w 120 x d 85mm, h 180 x w 120 x d 85mm and h 220 x w 115 x d 140mm.

In arranging and assembling these bones, I couldn’t resist anthropomorphising them, asserting human form, giving them voice. These were originally planned as vessels to hold plant material, but as I was completing them, I found that nothing I placed in them seemed to be right, any addition seemed superfluous. The works have indeed assumed individual character and serve as sentinels to both the agricultural past and indigenous fauna still present on the estate.

Home Brew, 2022

Scientific bell jar, small glass beaker made by Liam Fleming, thermoplastic, photoluminescent powder, glass beads, vintage 1970s wooden salad bowl.

h 380 x w 370 x d 290mm.

It is clear, after delving deep into the archives and her personal library, that Ursula Hayward had more than just a passing interest in horticulture, and sought the science of the day to make a resplendent garden. Glasshouse experiments, grafting, cross-fertilizing and propagation, Home Brew is my response to the citizen science employed by the home gardener to propagate and hybridize plants. The work includes a mix of scientific glassware and art glass. The plant is a hybrid of cultivars, natives and environmental weeds. Made from thermoplastic and embedded with photoluminescent powder, it will glow in the dark. The wooden base is an up-turned 1970’s salad bowl.

Flood, 2022

Fallen eucalypt branches, thermoplastic, photoluminescent powder, vintage glass florists’ frog, vintage wooden tray.

h 900 x w 1340 x d 900mm.

I made Flood in response to the consequences of human impact on the environment and at the time of making this work, the Murray River was in flood from increased water flows upstream. The fallen branches, collected after the Adelaide Hills bush fires and after recent storms from the unsealed roads at Carrick Hill are encased in recyclable thermoplastic, embedded with photoluminescent powder so they glow in the dark. Sealing in any remaining sap, I felt I was creating a layer of protection perhaps an ironic barrier. The glass florist’s frog and handmade wooden tray hale from the depression era. Presented atop a grand piano, even in the rarefied sanctuary of Carrick Hill, there is no escape from climate change.

The Weeping Orchid, 2022

Glass bell jar made by Liam Fleming, brass stand, thermoplastic, photoluminescent powder, paint, one crystal cut aquamarine stone tear drop

h 340 x diameter 200mm

Early in my residency I joined the Carrick Hill volunteer bush care group to tackle the olive infestation, and learned to place rocks around the germinating native plants for their protection. It is moving to find these rock markers when the plants have grown. Diuris behri or the golden cowslip orchid is listed as rare in the inventory of indigenous plants of this grassy woodland, and I have yet to find one.

So here, referencing the 1830 painting, The Weeping Rose by Pierre Joseph Redouté, that hangs in the library is my Weeping Orchid. Secured under a distorted blown-glass bell jar, ringed by quarried stone, a precious pale, yellow orchid, sheds one crystal-cut aquamarine stone tear.

After Constance: the invaders, 2022

Terracotta vase made by Stephanie James-Manttan.

Plants: paper and cotton compound, thermoplastic, paint.

h 550 x diameter 450mm.

Constance Spry was a British trailblazer in the art of floral arrangement, a contemporary of the Haywards. There seems no doubt that Ursula was a fan of Spry’s flamboyant, bold approach to the use of alternative plant materials and artful vessels.

After Constance: the invaders is an arrangement of environmental weeds commonly found on disturbed areas of the estate. Watsonia, ribwort and olive fill the vase, while bearded oats pierce the body of the vessel. Each plant is cast from a silicon mould taken from the actual plant. The plants are rendered in black to reduce their complexities to ominous silhouettes.

The Weeping Orchid, 2022 at home in the library. Image by Catherine Truman

Image by Catherine Truman

Shared Reckonings

Click here for Shared Reckonings Catalogue

Click here for Artlink Review by Anne Brennan May 2021

Click here for the series of short films presented in the exhibition

These works formed an exhibition titled ‘Shared Reckonings’ - an exhibition that evolved as a creative response to two concurrent residencies undertaken during 2019 for a project titled The Visible Light Project: experiments in light and perception at the State Herbarium and the Botanic Gardens of South Australia and the Flinders Centre for Ophthalmology, Eye and Vision Research, School of Medicine, Flinders University.

Over this time, I gained a more thorough understanding of how both plants and eyes use light and how light determines their structure; both have photoreceptors. Remarkably light crosses boundaries; from the internal to the external structures through the vascular and neural networks found in both the leaf and the human retina. These were powerful and meaningful metaphors to examine through a creative response.

Shared Reckonings is a testament to both the pivotal dialogue shared with others across a rare mix of disciplines blended with some profoundly deep and private deliberations on what it is to be human right here, right now.

Catherine Truman 2021

Shared Reckonings was an 2021 Adelaide Festival Event The exhibition was presented across two venues in the heart of the Botanic Gardens of South Australia - the Santos Museum of Economic Botany and the Deadhouse (the Mortuary Building)

The development and presentation of this project was funded by Art South Australia.

Restless Calm

Thermoplastic, photoluminescent powders, steel cable, mirror-ball motor, cloth curtain, solar panels, battery pack. 1950(h)mm x 1000 (diameter) mm

This work was suspended in the Deadhouse- a small mortuary nestled in the heart of the Adelaide Botanic Gardens during the Shared Reckonings Exhibition February - May 2021. It turned constantly powered by a solar battery.

A large mass of fine white tendrils slides between the root system of a plant and a human nervous system.

A suspended root system, the work is entirely hand-made from thermoplastic embedded with photoluminescent powder so it glows ice blue in the dark.

As this complex, anchored network of fine tendrils grew, the pandemic was unfolding…

Restless Calm

Thermoplastic, photoluminescent powders, steel cable, mirror-ball motor, cloth curtain, solar panels, battery pack. 1950(h)mm x 1000 (diameter) mm

Restless Calm

Thermoplastic, photoluminescent powders, steel cable, mirror-ball motor, cloth curtain, solar panels, battery pack. 1950(h)mm x 1000 (diameter) mm

A suspended root system, the work is hand-made entirely from thermoplastic embedded with photoluminescent powder so it glows ice blue in the dark.

Shared Reckonings

Thermoplastic, photoluminescent powders, fabric, hand-blown glass beaker (made by Liam Flemming, Jamfactory), light boxes, cloth. h 650 x w 1300 x d 700mm

The work shares the title of the exhibition: Shared Reckonings.

The thermoplastic plants in this installation are embedded with blue and green photoluminescent powders and respond to the changing light conditions. After they have been charged with light they will re-emit it in the darkness and glow vivid green and blue.

Tipping the balance, this is an installation of hybrid plants in various states of life and death, chaotically arranged in a collapsing hand-blown glass beaker.

I was given permission to collect various leaves from the plants in the Adelaide Botanic Gardens. I chose a number of plant species from around the world that had pronounced vascular networks, including the leaves of Tetradenia fruticosa from Madagascar which are rugose; wrinkled and corrugated and lanceolate; as well as selecting nasturtium and bok choy leaves common to Australian urban gardens.

Whilst ensconced in the workroom of the Museum of Economic Botany I made detailed silicon moulds of the leaves and cast thermoplastic forms, juxtaposing different species and customising leaf margins to form a large, somewhat chaotic arrangement of faux hybrid plants. With the light behind, the transparent leaves, the shared, overlaid vascular networks are revealed. Networks endemic to different parts of the globe sharing and sustaining life.

After the many conversations with the horticulturalists and botanists I realise that being alone with the despair of climate change is a choice. These plant scientists who are immersed at the coalface of the dilemmas humanity faces are deeply informed and sow seeds of hope. It is vital we begin to listen and learn across all fields of knowledge, share our questions, share our reckonings.

Shared Reckonings

Thermoplastic, photoluminescent powders, fabric, hand-blown glass beaker (made by Liam Flemming, Jamfactory), light boxes, cloth. h 650 x w 1300 x d 700mm

The work shares the title of the exhibition: Shared Reckonings.

The thermoplastic plants in this installation are embedded with blue and green photoluminescent powders and respond to the changing light conditions. After they have been charged with light they will re-emit it in the darkness and glow vivid green and blue.

Tipping the balance, this is an installation of hybrid plants in various states of life and death, chaotically arranged in a collapsing hand-blown glass beaker.

Shared Reckonings detail

Thermoplastic, photoluminescent powders, fabric, hand-blown glass beaker (made by Liam Flemming, Jamfactory), light boxes, cloth. h 650 x w 1300 x d 700mm

The work shares the title of the exhibition: Shared Reckonings.

The thermoplastic plants in this installation are embedded with blue and green photoluminescent powders and respond to the changing light conditions. After they have been charged with light they will re-emit it in the darkness and glow vivid green and blue.

Tipping the balance, this is an installation of hybrid plants in various states of life and death, chaotically arranged in a collapsing hand-blown glass beaker.

Shared Reckonings detail

Thermoplastic, photoluminescent powders, fabric, hand-blown glass beaker (made by Liam Flemming, Jamfactory), light boxes, cloth. h 650 x w 1300 x d 700mm

The work shares the title of the exhibition: Shared Reckonings.

The thermoplastic plants in this installation are embedded with blue and green photoluminescent powders and respond to the changing light conditions. After they have been charged with light they will re-emit it in the darkness and glow vivid green and blue.

Tipping the balance, this is an installation of hybrid plants in various states of life and death, chaotically arranged in a collapsing hand-blown glass beaker.

Ghost

Thermoplastic, photoluminescent powders, vintage laboratory glass beaker, vintage glass frog, aquamarine crystal-cut stone tears, acrylic sheet, light pad, timer, black cloth, acrylic sheet, plastic sheet. h 500 x w 700 x d 550mm.

During 2019 I was asked to create a work in response to the loss of our biodiversity due to climate change for an exhibition called Elegy, curated by Katie Scott of Gallery Funaki, Melbourne. Ironically, early 2020, I found myself in my studio, making this work as the catastrophic bushfires raged across massive tracts of Australia.

The exhibition opened in March 2020 and closed early due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

The plants are made of thermoplastic and embedded with two different kinds of photoluminescent powders, so that in low or no light the stems and buds will glow green, whilst the leaves glow a soft electric blue. The forms are cast from silicon impressions of young bok choy leaves and onion buds grown in my home garden; the structure of lens in the human eye is much like the layers of an onion. There are three Aquamarine stone crystal-cut tears that are dripping from three of the plants, a reference to mourning. The arrangement is held in vintage scientific glass flask from the Microscopy Department, Flinders University and a glass frog of the depression era.

The plastic shroud is an addition for Shared Reckonings.

If plants were to breathe in light and exhale perhaps they would look like this.

Ghost is an apparition, a reality and a memory; an arrangement of sorrow and solace.

Ghost

Thermoplastic, photoluminescent powders, vintage laboratory glass beaker, vintage glass frog, aquamarine crystal-cut stone tears, acrylic sheet, light pad, timer, black cloth, acrylic sheet, plastic sheet. h 500 x w 700 x d 550mm.

Ghost detail

Thermoplastic, photoluminescent powders, vintage laboratory glass beaker, vintage glass frog, aquamarine crystal-cut stone tears, acrylic sheet, light pad, timer, black cloth, acrylic sheet, plastic sheet. h 500 x w 700 x d 550mm.

Graft

Thermoplastic, photoluminescent powder, charred Eucalyptus branch from the Adelaide Hills’ fires of 2020. h 170 x w 1700 x d 750mm

Graft, mend, restore.

The foundation for this work is a fallen branch from a charred Eucalyptus tree collected after the Adelaide Hills bushfires of 2020. Covered in molten strips of thermoplastic embedded with vivid green photoluminescent powder, formed to resemble the tape commonly used for tree-grafting.

I bound a mass of fine roots to its splintered stub and all the while I wondered whether the roots were a kind of subterranean record of the tree’s past or a hopeless bid to revive it back to life.

Graft

Thermoplastic, photoluminescent powder, charred Eucalyptus branch from the Adelaide Hills’ fires of 2020. h 170 x w 1700 x d 750mm

Graft detail

Thermoplastic, photoluminescent powder, charred Eucalyptus branch from the Adelaide Hills’ fires of 2020. h 170 x w 1700 x d 750mm

Dark Matter

Thermoplastic, paint, glass vessel (made by Jamfactory, Adelaide), gloss black acrylic sheet, black cloth. h 1200 x w 1400 x d 800mm.

Dark Matter was made in the aftermath of the catastrophic Australian bushfires at the beginning of 2020.

There is a darkness that counters the light, redolent with loss and uncertainty; of something that once was, that may never return.

Formed in thermoplastic, malleable in the heat, the charred branches are an anomaly; an aberration. The branches are branches no more; they are collapsed and impossibly molten; they are stretched and exhausted.

As we wake to the realities of climate change, there is an overwhelming sense that nature cannot bend towards human needs anymore.

Things lose their shape in the dark

as well as the light.

There are gains

as well as losses.

Dark matters.

Dark Matter detail

Thermoplastic, paint, glass vessel (made by Jamfactory, Adelaide), gloss black acrylic sheet, black cloth. h 1200 x w 1400 x d 800mm.

In Preparation for Seeing: Glove Dissection

2011-2020

This is a still from a film showing in Made/Worn, an exhibition presented by The Australian Design Centre (currently on hold due to COVID-19)

This work evolved from a spontaneous request that took place during an ANAT Synapse residency at the School of Medicine, Flinders University, Adelaide in 2011.

After observing many dissections by highly skilled senior technician, Pat Villimas in the Autonomic neurotransmission laboratory I asked if she would dissect a latex glove off my hand.

Pat prepared a special silicon-filled tray for my hand and deliberated on several plans of approach. The dissection was repeated a number of times and recorded over several days during August 2011. In October 2014, three years later, during a residency in the Microscopy Suite, where Pat was now working, I asked her if she was interested in repeating the dissections to produce a more refined digital recording. She agreed.

The resulting footage is testament to a rare evolution of cross disciplinary exchange - a relationship built upon professional and personal trust and respect. The final film was captured in one take with very little editing.

In Made/Worn, presented one alongside the other in almost mirror image, two identical versions of this film have been joined into one. However upon closer inspection an audience discovers that one is played forward and the other in reverse, on continuous loop. Whilst one glove is being dissected the other is being restored.

There is a level of intimacy here borne of my roots as a contemporary jeweller, a maker of objects for and about the human body.

The glove can be read as both a separate, wearable object and as a skin covering the hand.

The surface of the human body presents a highly politicised canvas for the artist.

The ‘skin’ in this film is my skin, proffered as an intimate boundary; one that is both transgressed and restored at once.

Versions of his work have appeared in Theatre of Detail: Gray Street Workshop 30 years exhibition in 2015 and more recently in Catherine Truman: no surface holds, JamFactory Icon exhibition (2017-2020).

This is a new iteration of the work- now presented on a singular, large external screen. It is yet another evolution. In Preparation for Seeing: glove dissection is, in essence, an ongoing engagement with the human body, human exchange and the humanity of our work across the arts and sciences. It epitomises the intimate and transformative experiences possible of an open-ended collaboration.

White Leaf 1 & 2

2018

I’m curious about the potent interrelationships between plants and human anatomy and physiology. We have much to learn in these relationships – for instance both plants and the human eye process light into energy.

During a residency in the Ophthalmology Department at Flinders University in Adelaide, South Australia I investigated the structure of the eye, especially the vascular networks found in the retina. These two works, White Leaf 1 and White Leaf 2 are to be worn close to the heart and reference the correlation between the physiology of plants and the human vascular system.

I’ve taken direct impressions in paper/cotton compound of Bok Choy leaves grown in my home garden and emulated their vascular networks in semi-transparent thermoplastic.

White Leaf # 1 Collection of Auckland War Memorial Museum

White Leaf #2 Collection of Musée des Arts Decoratifs, Paris

White Leaf 1

Brooch. Cotton & paper compound, thermoplastic, steel L.270 x W.100 x D.50mm

White Leaf 1 ( back )

Brooch. Paper and cotton compound, thermoplastic, steel. L.270 x W.100 x D.50mm

White Leaf 2

Brooch. Cotton & paper compound, thermoplastic, steel L.280 x W.90 x D.60mm

White Leaf 2 (back)

Brooch. Cotton & paper compound, thermoplastic, steel L.280 x W.90 x D.60mm

White Leaf 1 detail

Brooch. Detail. Cotton & paper compound, thermoplastic, steel L.270 x W.100 x D.50mm

White Leaf 2 (detail)

Brooch. Cotton & paper compound, thermoplastic, steel L.280 x W.90 x D.60mm

Ocular Plants & Ocular Trees

2017

During a residency at the Ophthalmic Imaging Unit at Flinders Vision Centre, Flinders Medical Centre, Adelaide, I asked Angela Chappell, the ophthalmic photographer to image my retinas. We spent quite some time studying them on screen together. It was like gazing through a science fiction-like portal into what looked like a glowing planet covered with a fine arterial lattice. In fact, the network of veins that spread from the plant’s stem are similar to the structures found inside the human eye, particularly the retinal tree and the optic nerve.

Ocular trees

Thermoplastic, paint, pencil, wood, steel. Largest Panel 2m

Ocular Plants

Glass beakers, drinking glasses, glass sheet, thermoplastic, silicon.

Cell Culture and SEM gloves

These works are outcomes of a residency in the Microscopy Suite at Flinders University, Adelaide investigating the parallels between craft processes and the preparatory techniques used in biomedical microscopy research. Cell Culture Glove draws upon the preparatory techniques and rituals of cell culturing and the preparation of slides for microscopy where light travels through the prepared material in order to see internal structures. The glass spheres, used here to cover the surface of a cotton glove, represent the methodical repetition of culturing cells for biomedical research. The spheres magnify the weave of the white cotton glove underneath.

While the black glass spheres covering the SEM glove reference the use of refraction in the Scanning Electron Microscopes, where electrons scan the three-dimensional surfaces of the specimen lightly coated in black carbon or pure gold.

In Preparation for seeing: cell culture glove (detail)

Installation. White cotton glove, glass, steel forceps, Coplin Jar, light pad.

In Preparation for seeing: cell culture glove

White cotton glove, glass, steel forceps, Coplin Jar, light pad.

In Preparation for seeing: SEM glove

Black cotton glove, glass, paint, steel forceps, petri dishes, light pad.

Sensate Gloves

2014

We are curious beings led by sight and we confirm by touch...it's what makes us human. How else could we understand anything outside of ourselves? The ways we satiate this curiosity through art and science drives my practice.

The microscope allows us to augment our sight in order to pursue a line of inquiry Where do we begin and end in this interaction.

Sight leads human movement, leads touch.

Touch bridges the gap between seeing and doing.

The making

It's easier if I wear the glove whilst I add the filaments.

A pristine white cotton glove.the kind conservators or collectors wear. The white of a researchers coat, pure cotton, usually worn not to protect you, more the object you're touching - a kind of soft mediator.

The filaments are made from thermoplastic.

I touch the hot plastic on the my fingertip and it bonds with the weave and then with careful measure I draw out the thread like a hot glass stringer, like a stretched tendon, a nerve ending ; until it tapers and thins and breaks forming a long fine, flexing, trembling filament which amplifies every nuanced flick of my fingers -beautiful and macabre at once.

They bridge the distance, extend my touch, become smoke in the light -both radar and sonar and refine my line of inquiry.

Sensate Gloves

Digital print from a series of Giclee Prints on German Etching paper. 420 x 297mm

Sensate Gloves

Digital print from a series of Giclee Prints on German Etching paper. 594 x 420mm

Sensate Gloves

Digital print from a series of Giclee Prints on German Etching paper. 594 x 420mm

Fictional Science

2013

Lately I have begun to think of my own studio as a laboratory of sorts… and my practice as an evolving process of enquiry and experimentation.

My aim is not to replicate scientific process, but rather to explore and interpret various scientific methodologies, for example: collection, identification, taxonomy, analysis of structure and function, along side environmental context and impact. I am interested in experimenting with new combinations of techniques and materials common to both scientific laboratory research and my studio practice

By bringing together these seemingly disparate and sometimes analogous materials to create new forms my aim is to bring into question our role in their existence; to query their origin, function, physiology, sense of place, to evoke a sense of uncertainty, to create a conundrum of meaning and provoke more complex inquiry.

As an artist I have learnt that making things with my hands leaves me with much less of a sense of dislocation from the world I live in- and this, I feel is an interesting premise from which to examine the world of science.

Mollusc Mask

2013. Scallop shells found Port Adelaide, plastic mask found Port Norlunga Beach.
150 x 110 x 60mm

Muscle bound open

2013. Mussel shells found Grange Beach. 80 x 50 x 40mm

Adapt/adopt, Scullop, Scallop Stack

2013. Turbo and scallop shells, steel bottle caps found Emu Bay Kangaroo Island. Largest dimension 50mm

Encrusted group

2013. Shells found kangaroo Island and Henley Beach, thermoplastic, plastic pipettes, electrical conduit, sterling silver, steel. Largest dimension 150mm

Lush Plant Group

2013. Brooches. Thermoplastic, silicon, paint, sterling silver, steel.
Largest dimension 160mm

Lush Pink Shells Group

2013. Brooch (bottom) and objects. Shells found Kangaroo Island and Largs Beach. Thermoplastic, paint, sterling silver, steel.
Largest dimension 100mm

Operculum Shells

2013. Shells found Largs Beach, plastic found Norlunga Beach, glass, thermoplastic, plastic pipettes
Largest dimension 100mm

Rosaceae mollusca

2013. Queen Scallop shells, fake silk rose found Emu Bay, Kangaroo Island. 95 x 80 x 45mm

Eggshell Group

2013. Brooches and objects. Shells found on Kangaroo Island and Grange Beach, glass, paint, sterling silver, steel. Largest dimension 125mm

Carved Brooches

2013. Carved English Lime, glass, paint, sterling silver, steel, Largest dimension 135mm

Carved Brooches

2013. Detail. Carved English Lime, glass, paint, sterling silver, steel, Largest dimension 135mm

Some uncertain facts

Some uncertain facts was a solo exhibition held at Gallery Funaki, Melbourne, Australia, November 13 - December 8, 2012.

Having worked as an artist amongst scientists for many years I have uncovered something of the relationship between us - between our motivation, our focus, our inquiries and translations. I have come to realise the processes of science and art are not so dissimilar. We both agree that unknowing moves us forward and that there is an inherent level of risk and uncertainty in both. We both create images of the things we see and the more we see, the more we understand we don’t know. The images are a translation - a nuanced approximation.

The works in this exhibition are a collection of forms made in relation to one another, the previous one giving the next a reason for existing. They form an installation of a kind, perhaps a never-ending conundrum of propositions. Natural and manufactured, in part and whole, they are both uncertain and assured at once.

Catherine Truman 2012

Garter bones

2012. Carved sheep tibias (found Kangaroo Island) 185x60x60mm ea

Long Bones Group

2012. Detail. Showerhead shell, Found coral, carved kangaroo bones (Kangaroo Island) Largest dimension 200mm

Red Laboratory Shells and clay models

2012. Carved English Lime, Shu Niku ink, clay, scallop shells. Largest dimension 100mm

Red Laboratory Shells

2012. Carved English Lime, Shu Niku ink, laboratory glass. Largest dimension 180mm

Cluster Shells

2012 Angel wing shells ( Grange Beach, SA), tissue paper, cardboard. 150x150x80mm

Spiral, cone, funnel

2012. paper card, carved English lime, shell (Kangaroo Island), Japanese Wonder Shell, stitched cotton cloth, plastic. Largest dimension 240mm

Spiral, cone, funnel

2012. Detail. Paper card, carved English lime, shell (Kangaroo Island), Japanese Wonder Shell, stitched cotton cloth, plastic. Largest dimension 240mm

Holey Group

2012. Carved English Lime, heat formed styrene, paint, crab claws, snail shells, sponges, shell, coral. Largest dimension 180mm

Holey Group

2012. Detail. Carved English Lime, heat formed styrene, paint, crab claws, snail shells, sponges, shell, coral. Largest dimension 180mm

Shell Stack Group

2012. Detail. Scallop shells, Mussel shells, paper, wire. Largest dimension 150mm

Smoking bones

2012. Carved Eucalypt twig, paint, kangaroo bones ( found Kangaroo Island), heat formed plastic, found plastic ( Middleton beach). Largest dimension 270mm

Sea Squirt Group

2012. Carved English lime, dried sea squirts ( found Kangaroo Island), latex, clay, glass. Largest dimension 100mm

Rain Twigs

2012. Cast bronze, glass inlay. largest dimension 250mm

Collection of the Art Gallery of Western Australia

Rain Twigs

2012. Detail. Cast bronze, glass inlay. largest dimension 250mm

Collection of the Art Gallery of Western Australia

Funnel Shells

2012. Scallop Shells (found Henley Beach), Wallaby bones (found Kangaroo Island). Largest dimension 155mm

Pixel Shells

2012. Brooches. Shells (found Grange Beach) glass, sterling silver, steel. Largest dimension 120mm

Carved Brooches

2012. Collection of brooches carved from English Lime wood, paint, glass. Largest dimension 140mm

Carved Brooches

2012. Collection of brooches carved from English Lime wood, paint, glass. Largest dimension 140mm

The Kidney Brooches

So far I've carved two kidney brooches , I may carve more.

The Kidney Brooch, 2011

This brooch was made for the Tinker Tailor exhibition. I was asked to respond to Professor Priscilla Kincaid Smith, a distinguished nephrologist whose research in the early 1960’s focussed upon the effects of headache powders on the functioning of the kidney. She also contributed to research on the relationship between renal malfunction and high blood pressure and contributed to the development of renal transplantation.

I chose to carve a kidney in mother of pearl shell -Pinctada maxima from Broome, Western Australia. Shells filter the sea to feed, they are precious and jewel like, they grow in layers . Nacre is continually deposited onto the inner surface of the animal's shell, both as a means to smooth the shell and as a defense against parasitic organisms and damaging detritus. The iridescent nacreous layer is also known as mother of pearl. It is precious and treasured as a material.

Kidneys are miraculous filters and we cant live without them. They purify the blood and control the levels of fluid and ion in the body, removing nitrogenous waste products and excreting any excesses.

A kidney donated to extend the life of another human being is a profound and precious gift.

Kay's Kidney, 2015

This Kidney was commissioned by Kay Lawrence in memory of her mother who sadly passed away due to kidney failure.

The Kidney Brooch

2011. Brooch. Carved Mother of Pearl Shell, ink, sterling silver, steel.

Kay's Kidney

2015. Brooch. Carved mother of pearl shell, ink, sterling silver, steel.

90 x 75 x 15mm

Organic Mechanic

2011

Organic Mechanic

2011. Installation. Shell, coral, paper, silk, glass, wallaby bones, eucalyptus twig, carved Chinese Boxwood, cow bone, plastic, foam core, clay.
1200 x 450 x200mm

Ongoing Being

2010- ongoing

Originally made for Abstract Nature, and exhibition curated by Margot Osborne at the SAMSTAG Museum, Adelaide in 2010.
Knowledge of the body is never fixed and no object on the table is discreet. Everything is placed and made as a result of a perceived relationship of some sort.
I’m interested in how the brain works- what we draw on at the level of experience- what’s new territory, what’s old- the 'knowledge' I’m drawing upon to 'see' and to make.
The work is about this process- the work is never finished.
There are no neat conclusions.

Ongoing Being

2010. Carved brooches, found and fabricated objects:
Wood, plastic, steel, glass, nylon, cotton, bone, marine sponge, sponge rubber, canvas, wax, clay, paint.
Installation. 2 x 1m

Ongoing Being

2010. Installation detail. 2 x 1m

Red Ra Shells

Circa 2011, these brooches are carved for an exhibition to celebrate 35 years of Gallery Ra in Amsterdam. They are a development from the Hybrid series of 2009-2010. Clay models were used as a reference for the carvings. The clay was pressed onto scallop shells, then folded and manipulated to create ambiguous organic forms. The fluidity of the clay was translated into the rigidity of the wood.

Red Ra Shells

2011. Brooches. Carved English Lime, Shu Niku ink, sterling silver, steel.
Largest dimension 70mm.

Hybrid Carvings

2010-2011

Three Hybrid Red Trees

2010. Brooches. Carved Chinese Boxwood, paint, Shu Niku ink, sterling silver, steel. Largest dimension 120mm

Hybrid Carvings

2010. Brooches. Carved Chinese Boxwood, sterling silver, steel
Largest dimension 150mm

Hybrid Carvings

2011. Brooches. Carved English Lime, sterling silver, steel
Largest dimension 150mm

Hybrid Carvings

2011. Brooches. Detail. Carved English Lime, sterling silver, steel
Largest dimension 150mm

Heat-formed Styrene Works 2008-2010

Red Gut Neckpiece

2010. Heat-formed styrene, paint, Italian thread

Striped Trees

2009. Brooches. Heat-formed styrene, paint, sterling silver, steel.
Largest dimension 150mm

Red Muscle Tree

2008. Heat-formed styrene, paint, sterling silver, steel.
120 x 90 x 45mm

Eye Carvings

Made in 2007, these carvings are a contemporary response to anatomical illustrations of head dissections rendered in Europe in the 17th-19th centuries and incorporate techniques and materials I learned in Japan in 1990. I've chosen to isolate the eyes of these engravings and render them three-dimensionally in an attempt to distill their individual identities. I am acutely aware that I am adding another level of interpretation to the original - my personal translation.

I have chosen to use non traditional inlay materials , substituting the pure gold foils traditionally used in the eye inlays of Netsuke carvers of Japan, with the foils of common confectionery wrappers. Hence the titles of these works; Crunchie Eye, Time-out Eye, Mint Pattie Eye, along with Painted Eye and Closed Eye.

Eye Carvings

2007. Chinese Boxwood, paint, mother of pearl, acrylic, confectionery wrappers, graphite, paint. Largest dimension 100mm

Closed Eye

2007. Carved Chinese Boxwood
85 x 70 x 10mm

Fugitive Anatomies

2006

This series of brooches is about the slippage between the perfect and the imperfect body, and the levels of distortion and transformation inherent in the processes of anatomical representation throughout history.

I think we each carry our very own notions of the perfect body and yet always feel that we live in an imperfect flesh. So the body we have sometimes feels like strange, ill-fitting garment.

Fugitive Anatomies

Fugitive Anatomie #2

2006. Carved English Lime, graphite, paint, sterling silver, steel.
75 x 75 x 13mm

Carving without portrait

2005

This work is Influenced by my research of the history of anatomical representation, particularly how general knowledge of anatomy has been influenced…and, in a sense, handmade by others. The skills of the modellers, in particular their personal understanding of the body has played an essential role in how we image the body today.
Can the identity of the anatomical illustrator be detected in the various forms of representation commonly used to teach human anatomy?
Could we read them as a kind of self portraiture ?

Carving without portrait

Carving without portrait, detail

2005. Detail. Carved English Lime, paraffin wax, Shu Niku ink
430 x 260 x 100mm

1:5 model without portrait

2005

Her sculptures emit a powerful intensity, through a paradoxical fusion of the poignantly human and the eerily inhuman. Their anonymity, the obliteration of the person, touches a raw nerve, reminding us of our mortality as mere flesh and bones.

Margot Osborne, Adelaide, August , 2005