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• Want an artist profile on Babble?
• A critique of a piece of work or website?
• Want us to publish your review on a show or an essay of interest?
• Got some industry gossip we should know about?

We're particularly interested in local emerging/fringe dwelling/controversial artists.

Email us at: babbleart@gmail.com

Come on.... you know you want to!

Love,

Us.

Applique

While we're on the subject of industry rants, next up on our delectably tempting menu are galleries that don't respond to applications and proposals from artists.

We all know that the bigger the gallery, the less likely you are to get a response to a proposal - particularly if it was unsolicited. We know not to expect otherwise, although in our experience, many do actually take the trouble to send a written letter. It's the reality of the industry.

If a gallery has actually put out a call for applications though, is it too much to expect a response advising whether you were successful or (more likely) unsuccessful? Particularly if it's a one-off local show that does not present the same challenges as planning an annual curatorial program?

We think it falls under the realm of general professionalism and courtesy. It should be a given. that all applicants are notified. Yes, we know we're being idealistic, but in this day and age, it literally takes five seconds to send a group email.

Currently, the biggest offender in this regard seems to be the IMA, who, as far as we are aware, still have not contacted any artists about their advertised call for submissions for The New Fresh Cut exhibition. Their application deadline was 20 July. We think that an ever expanding seven weeks is more than reasonable as a time frame in which to assess applications and respond.

Perhaps the successful applicants have already been notified and we likely simply swim with other unsuccessful little fish, but does that make it any better?

Not in our books. It's poor form. Pure and simple.

Is it yet another symptom of the rampant elitism and favouritism in the Brisbane art scene? Are local artists expected merely to rejoice in the opportunity to even submit work to the larger galleries?

We're not sure, but then we tend to be cynical, bitter and twisted.

What do you think?

The Pufferfish Network

Having worked in Arts Admin for years, I recently found myself looking for work. It's always an educational experience in itself to see how the different galleries, organisations, museums and institutions treat their applicants. I practically had to stalk some of them to get so much as an acknowledgment of my application, let alone a response. Many were just plain rude.

Not to mention that salaries vary ridiculously. I recently saw an advert for a mid-level job at the Queensland Art Council for $34K PA. Considering you can easily exceed that working at a call centre with no qualifications at all, it does make you wonder. It is a perfect illustration of the fact that we do not value our art workers in this state and that the non profit sector is massively underfunded.

We're not all in it for the money of course. There are government art jobs for that ;)

Lets face it.

There are an abundance of suitably qualified and experienced arts professionals floating around this fair city. It's not unusual to see people with two or three degrees and a PhD working reception or being a PA just to get through the front door. Not that there's anything wrong with doing reception, of course. We all have to start somewhere. It just seems wrong that we are supposed to consider ourselves lucky to have a job in the field at all.

Lots of people seem to aspire to work in the largest gallery in this town. It has somehow become the epitome of professional success to be on staff. Despite having the inside scoop on the rather infamous political backstabbing and infighting that goes on, I once found myself applying. I even went to an interview. After three minutes of walking through their offices, I knew I'd never work there. The atmosphere was so toxic, I practically had to stand under a cold shower to decontaminate afterwards.

I've never been one of the cut throat types that will do anything to anyone, just to get ahead. I'd much rather help others to get ahead together. Similarly, I find myself on the outskirts of art openings. I don't fit in.

In the UK, there is such a thing as the 'Old Boys Network', whereby, alumni from a particular university (such as Eton, Oxford or Cambridge) scratch eachothers backs and dole out preferential treatment and favours for their schoolmates whereever possible.

The Brisbane Art Scene has its very own version of this. You know the ones I mean. The people who are so obviously full of a sense of their own self importance that they are in mortal danger of spontaneous combustion. They are Pufferfish in black. Prickly from a distance, poisonous up close.

Personally, I'd rather swim with the mackerel. Or squid. Or maybe even sharks. They might be safer!

Love,

Babble

Simone Male: Robyn Bauer Gallery

Recently, we all went for a lazy sunday afternoon wander around some of the galleries in Paddington. If you haven't been for a while, it's definitely worth the trip. Not to mention the fact that there's also a fabulous little chocolate shop in the same strip, perfect for rumination and culinary delights afterwards. Just call us Janine Antoni. Plus, some of the work we saw was definitely lickable!

Robyn Bauer Gallery had some great works by Symone Male. Looking at the Artist Bio on the gallery website, it appears that this artist has an interesting pedigree, descended from ancient clans of virtuoso illustrators and world acclaimed photographers. Seriously though, art is in this woman's blood and it shows.

Call me picky, but a pet hate of mine is seeing written material on a professional gallery website with glaringly obvious typos in it (I await your emails pointing out all my typos, naturally). We all love cut and paste, but please, if there's a squiggly red line under it in Word, it's probably spelt wrong or missing a letter. Symone's bio is a perfect example of this. Come on Robyn!

Ahem. Okay. Slight rant over. Back to the art.

Male's work consists of figurative paintings of female nudes against alarmingly bright backgrounds. The women she paints are of different ages and appearance, although I can't help but notice she favours typically thin, perky breasted 'classical' women. In each painting, Male introduces a decorative element. An ornate flower, a bird on a branch. These are much more illustrative and visually flat. It is an interesting contrast against the depth of field present in the rest of each painting.

There is a definite sense of retro 1950s, American war-fare in some of Male's work and it is these I find the most fascinating. The poses of the models are reminiscent of the scantily clad women that pilots painted on the side of their planes during world war II. Indeed, Male paints war planes as a decorative element in some of them. Combined with the eyecatching colours of the background, there is a slight sense of unease and vulnerability. We are reminded of war in the modern age. Planes that are invisible. Innocent people that are vulnerable; naked in the face of war.

In what I think is perhaps Male's most striking work to date, we look down apon a middle aged female model, arm raised, elbow bent behind her head. She is basking in a warm glow. She poses, luminous, against a black background that is decorated with white stars. The perspective suggests that it is draped fabric and I immediately associated it with the american flag. A black american flag.

Interesting times for America lately. The apparent war on terror. An upcoming change in presidency. I have no idea if Male intended the work to be so political, but to me, the references are unmistakable. The model in this work has her eyes closed. Her body is the epitomy of the female ideal, carefully posed in an array of flattering lines and angles. The stars decrease in size as they move away from her genital area. Mere coincidence? I don't know.

What is clear to me, is that there is an unapologetic sense of sexuality in much of Male's work. This last work I discuss, particularly invites us to view the female body as an object, rather than subject. In the normal scheme of things, this would have a very clear reading, but given the context of the backdrop, I cannot help but feel the model is instead staring inward. It draws us to question western concepts of innocence, sexuality, violence and the complex relationships that exist between them. Where lies our own sense of guilt? Our apathy?

Considering that today is the first of september, you may well miss Symone's show at Robyn Bauer, but the works I discuss are on the gallery website (linked above). If you have missed the show, next up at that gallery is Postcards from South-East Queensland, goache miniatures by Nick Leahy and Soft Weather Series by Karena Wynn-Moylan.

(Sur)prizes

The reality of being an artist in Brisbane usually means struggling to make ends meet or working a day job and trying to make art on the weekends. Life is particularly hard if you're not represented by a gallery. Or a painter. Or making public art for fat cat corporations.

When the big art prizes come up, it can feel like entering the lotto. It's nice to daydream for a moment what it would actually be like to win one. That said, most administrators are reluctant to tell you exactly how many applications there were for fear of reducing future interest and prestige. It can be disheartening to know the odds. Feedback is an extraordinarily rare occurrence and fees can vary from the ridiculous to the sublime.

So how much importance is placed on the work, compared to the artist behind it?

Rarely is an individual work stronger than the reputation behind it. With most prizes, it's naturally going to help if you already have an existing profile, if you've had other work out there in the public eye or if you know the judges. Do we sound cynical? We are. Cynicism set in some years ago, on discovering that the judge of a major local art prize was sleeping with the recipient. But enough about that.

Art prizes are a great way to get your work in front of industry professionals. We should have more of them, with greater focus on supporting our local and emerging artists. In entering a prize, you're paying for exposure and that has value in it's own right. Prizes give artists the recognition and funds they often so desperately need. It just pays to do your research first. The Brisbane art scene is so small that industry incest is rife. One day, you may just find that the judge looks suspiciously like your first cousin ;)

Picasso: Queensland Art Gallery

With some trepidation, I recently ventured once more into the giant glass fishbowl that is the Queensland Art Gallery. I was shocked to discover it was $20 admission, although l did manage to procure a complimentary pass prior to my visit, so I can't really complain.

I saw a similar 'Picasso and his mates' show at the Tate some years back, so naturally I was curious to see what sort of works that QAG would choose. On entering, I was confronted by some huge photographs of Picasso at work in his studio. As an artist myself, it was nice to be reminded that studios are universally messy. Though since I'm not a painter, I don't have the paint splatters. The joy of living in a rental!

The next few rooms led us through a series of collections of works by Modigliani, Renoir, Cezanne et al. Call me shallow, but I was more fascinated by the vast array of gold frames than the paintings themselves. I also love people watching in large exhibitions, which seem to be the only time that the general public actually want to venture into the art gallery. Because, like, it's Picasso. Much as was the case for the recent Andy Warhol show. I hate that art work is assumed to be 'good', merely because of a name. Yes, I know it's the way of the world. Still. I do.

As usual in big institutional exhibitions there was much chin holding, arm crossing and a slow trudging line dance around the edge of each room. All we needed was Billy Ray Cyrus and it would have been a great shin dig. I almost did the macarena. A woman was leading a tour group through the exhibit talking about painted toenails. Perhaps she wanted to compliment the Surrealist works.

I've actually always wondered why so many curators feel compelled to paint the walls in a big show one dingy muted shade of green, claret or grey instead of the usual white. I don't think it did the Picasso exhibition any favours. I felt it drew attention away from the work itself to the framing. Harder to appreciate the subtlety of colour with a glaring background. Though, claret or green do go nicely with gold!

The backgrounds seem to have been chosen randomly, since to my mind, they drew nothing from the work that would not have been better served staying with plain white. Perhaps backgrounds add value for money. Who knows! There were also far too many works crammed into each space. It was a little claustrophobic.

The works shown weren't particularly remarkable or interesting. Perhaps Picasso just had bad taste in art. Except perhaps, for the fabulous surrealist erotique pencil sketches which were phenomenal. It's all subjective, anyway. I didn't feel the show gave me more of an insight into the world of Picasso - the studio shots did that.

Eventually, we were all shepherded IKEA style into the exhibition shop to behold a vast array of merchandise. T shirts! Mugs! Cards! Catalogues! No postcard of the erotique shots though, boo. Too risque for us Queenslanders, obviously.

Don't get me wrong; I'm happy to see Brisbane attracting the big names in art, but be nice to see some work by a female artist in there. Lord, even some local artists would be nice. Perhaps they might even stop running away to Melbourne!