Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Two emerging artists unveil the mayhem under the calm




The pristine walls of Monster Children Gallery and the suburban buzz of the Darlinghurst streets outside, make a stark contrast to the worlds created by Mark Whalen and Cleon Peterson in their new exhibition, The Mirror Stage.


Peterson’s monochromatic paintings of violence and abuse are like a stop motion animation version of a Tarantino film. His figures clash in turbulent scenes, committing random acts of violence.

There is no symbolism or masking of raw brutality—Peterson unveils the frustrations simmering under the surface of contemporary society. Revealing a primordial anger, his figures punch and stab, rip each other apart and claw at each other. Every character is sinister—there are no winners or losers, no good versus evil.

Peterson paints the world he saw, living on the streets as a junkie. “I see violence and drugs and sex as passionate climaxes of the plot,” he told Anthem Magazine. “With the colour and energy within these paintings, I’m trying to create this world where everything is about to fall apart at the seams – where there’s so much intensity and deviance that there’s no room for anything else in a way; it’s just this image of chaos.”

However, the chaos in his paintings is meticulously created using principles of design. His training in graphic design brings a balance of form, colour and intensity to his works.

Although inspired by his home city, Peterson doesn’t situate his works in a particular place. “I'd agree that LA informs my work, but more so it’s the city and the things that happen in dense environments where people are jammed together and having to deal with each other,” he told myartspace.com. “Every city I've lived in has had these pockets of mayhem, where people are acting out desperation in primal ways.”

Meanwhile, Sydney-born Mark Whalen depicts a society breaking down under the burden of pseudo religion, terrorism, gambling and a fixation with money. God-like creatures and monolithic structures tower over the minions—but the powerful figures are made of a pack of cards that could come crashing down.

Whalen’s intricate paintings are a dramatic shift from the large scale throw ups and graffiti art of his early days in Sydney, operating under the pseudonym Kill Pixie.

“The one thing that got me into detailed work in the first place was making everything with big lines and strokes; I got quite bored with it,” he told The Blackmail. “If I had the time, I’d spend six months on one piece. Details are really fascinating to me. I’m so obsessed with making intricate work and what I can do with it. It probably will implode at some point.”

With sell out shows in Los Angeles, and winning the Sydney Music, Arts & Culture (SMAC) Best Visual Artist Award 2008, Whalen has certainly exploded onto the arts scene.

The Mirror Stage, an exhibition by Kill Pixie/Mark Whalen & Cleon Peterson, continues at the Monster Children Gallery until September 17, 2009.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Interior disaster



Can there be beauty in chaos?

Francesca Rosa’s forensic-like, photographic documentation of the havoc wrecked by Cyclone Larry on homes and lives, captures the beauty of line, form and colour in wreckage.

A twisted mattress, an upturned table and loosely hanging cables lay strewn about, but compose a balanced frame. Light filtering through gaps in the ceiling forms lines and patterns, bringing an eerie symmetry to the disarray. A ceramic bowl, brightly wrapped chocolates and a lone flower add touches of colour. Interior disaster is a moving memorial of the devastation.

Interior Disaster shows at the Australian Centre for Photography until Aug 22, 2009

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Theatre to make you think

Expect no easy answers in the double-bill of timeless, yet timely theatre by the Alex Buzo Company





If a white Aussie, clad in a t-shirt bearing the Australian flag were to stop you in a dimly-lit street corner, what would your first thought be? One late evening, outside a city construction site, when Norm asks him for a light, Ahmed hesitates—a shadow, a fear crosses his face.

"This isn't India, mate, you're in Sydney," Norm tells Ahmed. "No Bombay Stranglers around here."

They are characters from Australian playwright Alex Buzo’s play, Norm and Ahmed, which premiered in 1968. The first local Australian production to bring the Asian perspective to stage has now been brought back to stage by his daughter, and Founder-Director of the Alex Buzo Company, Emma Buzo.

She has also commissioned contemporary playwright Alana Valentine, to respond to this Australian classic with a companion piece – Shafana and Aunt Sarrinah: Soft Revolution. Both plays are showing in a double-bill at the Seymour Theatre Centre until August 29.
Norm and Ahmed, a 45-minute dialogue between the two characters, displays some taut writing। Norm begins to befriend Ahmed, slowly winning his confidence, yet momentarily displaying racist, nationalistic opinions.

“A bloke at work said he didn’t see the point of bringing a whole lot of boongs out here. Excuse the term, Ahmed…”


A piece of graffiti in the backdrop for the play is threateningly foretelling of the relationship between Norm and Ahmed: “We grew here, you flew here”

The audience is always on the edge: Is Norm a violent racist, or just an old widower looking for a little harmless conversation? Are they going to part as friends, having learned a little about the “other” community? Can the native and the immigrant bridge the chasms created by change? Can the struggle between the conservatism and radicalism, between reason and belief ever be won?

The shocking climax of Norm and Ahmed triggered a censorship battle in the 70‘s, bringing the emerging Australian theatre scene on the front page of media। The point of contention was the final line, "F॥king boong!". The actors and director were arrested for use of obscene language in a public space. It was the penultimate word that was considered offensive – not “boong”, as one might imagine.

“Fairly soon after it was banned in three Australian states at the time of its premiere 40 years ago, the authorities could not contend with the play’s popularity,” says Emma Buzo। “It quickly became an Australian classic and has been studied in schools and universities around Australia ever since.” Norm and Ahmed is now part of prescribed text for the NSW HSC (2010-2012). “It has also received countless productions in Australia, Malaysia and India,” she adds.

Laurence Coy is brilliant as the middle-aged ocker, Norm—slipping in the occasional “boong”, recalling his days in the Vietnam War with violent re-enactments, while encouraging Ahmed to make his life in Australia। Craig Meneaud is perfect as the immaculate, soft-spoken, yet opinionated Pakistani student, Ahmed. Although eager to avoid causing offence, he does however hesitantly give his honest opinion if asked.

The ever shifting, friend-foe struggle between Norm and Ahmed is timeless। Emma Buzo reveals that minimal changes were made to the original script to situate it appropriately for audiences today. “The character of Norm was originally a World War Two veteran. This production sets the action in the present and makes Norm a Vietnam veteran. This time, Ahmed carries a backpack instead of a briefcase as per the original script,” she says. “Very few words had to be changed for it to sit comfortably in the present day.”

The play is also extremely timely, in an eerie twist of fact imitating fiction, with the recent reports of racist attacks on Indian students. “I commissioned a play to respond to Norm and Ahmed because it is perhaps more relevant now than when it premiered in 1968,” says Buzo.


Its companion piece, Shafana and Aunt Sarrinah, is just as timely, but strongly situated in the present, with its references to google, and the moment that altered the Muslim identity—9/11। Again uncannily timed to the ban over the burkha in France, the story follows a young science student who wants to put on the hijab.



“I commissioned Alana Valentine... after she told me a captivating story about the opposition a young Afghani Australian Muslim woman faced from her own family about her decision to wear the headscarf,” writes Emma Buzo in the production notes। “We don’t often hear of diversity within an ethnic community,” she adds.

Shafana, inspired by Makiz Ansari from Affinity Intercultural Foundation, launches into a struggle of religious faith and political belief with her beloved Aunt Sarrinah.
Her aunt’s story is familiar to many immigrants। A well placed engineer, back home in Afghanistan, Sarrinah has settled for a job in a factory, and is studying to get her qualification recognised in Australia.

The cheerful woman of wit and humour at the start of the play, slowly unravels her deepest fears when Shafana insists on an outward display of her faith। Camilla Ah Kin, as Sarrinah, carefully unveils the confident Afghani-Australian: slowly disintegrating under the haunting memories of escape from Afghanistan. You cannot move on from your past sometimes—it lingers, waiting for a single moment of vulnerability.


Sheridan Harbridge exudes the enthusiasm of a young, passionate and sincere Shafana—she has understood, discovered her religion। And now, even the gravest of objections—restrictions in her social interactions and her career progression—seem petty.

Shafana fumbles, folds and unfolds the scarf, caught between her own convictions and the fears of her aunt—the one person whose judgement she trusts the most। Will Shafana put on the scarf? Will our society see the young girl, the scientist under the hijab? Or will she remain forever burdened by the socio-political symbols attributed to the headscarf?

As the director, Aarne Neeme writes in the production notes, “Good theatre doesn’t provide solutions; it speculates – leaving the answers for the audience।”

For further information, please see www।alexbuzo।com।au