My Mexican Friend

De las Manos, Yunuen Pérez and Sissy M. Reyes, 2012During the past month I designed a twelve-page catalogue for an exhibition my friend Yunuen Pérez and her creative partner Sissy M. Reyes are launching in May. What a delight it was to work with such gorgeous and colourful imagery, and with clients who were decisive, prompt to supply material and pleasant from beginning to end*!

But more importantly, the photographic exhibition is called Mex-tli, Mexican Goddesses, and reflects the pair’s respective artistic practices, with an emphasis on cross-cultural aesthetics and the power of the image.

Yunuen is a costume and production designer for theatre and multimedia, and Sissy a cinematographer and producer in a variety of independent and commercial film and media projects. A couple of years ago they decided they would combine their creative talents. They embarked on a venture exploring their experiences as Mexican immigrants in Australia, a journey that would combine two very different cultures and discover where similarity diverged and came together again. 

Jaguar’s Roar, Yunuen Pérez and Sissy M. Reyes, 2012The pair focus on Mexican indigenous women: their stories; their roles in society and legend; and the traditional costumes they wear. Depictions of ancient ceremony and modern rituals reveal meanings as layered as the highly patterned, embroidered textiles they don for these twelve self-portraits. There is a grandeur in the formal, highly constructed mise-en-scène, a glimpse of another world, another experience – and a wealth of fascinating detail. It’s a chance to open one’s eyes.

The exhibition is showing from 7–18 May at fortyfivedownstairs, 45 Flinders Lane, Melbourne 3000.

*No designer sensibilities were harmed during the creation of this piece of graphic design.

The Dark Star

This is a new piece from my second collection of random poetry. It combines antique paper (a receipt from 1866), blue ink, and images cut or torn from magazines.

When I assembled the poem, the words ‘dark star’ stood out, and I knew exactly what I wanted to depict: a desolate planet lost in the darkness of the starless abyss – a terrifying place; and a giant door magically opening onto home, seemingly the only hope and source of light.

Only a few though will not take the easy road home.

But in the deadly new worlds drastic millions head for the hills
and take the door that will open
the only way home from the dark star
But nothing will move on those who hope
Tomorrow’s triumph is our future.

Mon Petit Gustave Doublet

Here is another delightful French postcard of the early twentieth century in my collection. The girl is stuffed into a dress that resembles crinkled sausage casing, but I envy her that striped parasol. And what wicked mustachios on her feller! Check his white linen suit too. Doesn’t he have the most delicious name? If only I could decipher the text. 

Click on the images for larger versions. 

Lest We Forget

In the Forecourt of The Shrine :: Tinto 1848 // Float // No flashIn honour of the brave souls who sacrificed all for their countries and their fellow man, lest we forget:

The Dancers

All day beneath the hurtling shells
Before my burning eyes
Hover the dainty demoiselles—
The peacock dragonflies.

Unceasingly they dart and glance
Above the stagnant stream—
And I am fighting here in France
As in a senseless dream.

A dream of shattering black shells
That hurtle overhead,
And dainty dancing demoiselles
Above the dreamless dead.

Wilfrid Wilson Gibson

A poem of the First World War, from Men Who March Away, edited by I.M Parsons (Heinemann Educational Books, 1987)

Anzac Day, 2013

A Guardian of The Shrine :: Tinto 1848 // Float // No flash

The Dream Under the Overpass

Oblivion :: Helga Viking // Claunch 72 Monochrome // No flashThe other day I was trawling through my photo archives and came across this photo of a drawing I did over a year ago. I had forgotten all about it, and how I laughed when I saw this picture. It brings to mind Callum Morton’s sculpture Hotel that sits surreally beside the EastLink freeway in Greater Melbourne. (I chuckle every time I flash past it.)

Hotel, Callum Morton 2008I often have very vivid dreams, many about travelling, but I might have forgotten all about this one if I hadn’t made this drawing the next day. I am not sure if it’s a fragment of the one where I was also travelling by bus through the snowy wastes of Russia. Here I had stepped off the road (note the striped roadworkers’ tape in the foreground) to view some sunken apartment buildings just beyond an overpass. I was warned by a fellow traveller not to step nearer because the ground was unsafe. Oh really? I never would have noticed. I didn’t care though – I needed to take photographs of this extraordinary sight. I am absolutely certain I would do the same thing in real life!

Now that I’ve found this photo (goodness knows what happened to the original sketch) this shall have to be turned into a proper drawing I think.