![AROUND THE GALLERIES Dan RulePublished: The Age, A2, July 10, 2010.
WHAT Sam JinksWHERE Karen Woodbury Gallery, 4 Albert Street, Richmond, 9421 2500, kwgallery.com
Although both artists would loathe the comparison, it’s hard not to reference Ron Mueck when discussing the incredibly lifelike foam, silicon, paint and human hair sculptures of Melbourne artist Sam Jinks. His works hold such a resemblance to reality that you can’t help but be immediately affected by their presence; the intricate contours of skin, the weight of the flesh and curve of the implied skeletal structure. In the same breath, what makes Jinks’ work so engaging is its delicate detours from what we might otherwise frame in terms of “hyperrealism”. The three works that perch, spotlighted, in an otherwise dimmed Karen Woodbury Gallery each offer a distinct eschewal of scale and context. As we enter the space, two gigantic snails slither together in a seemingly romantic embrace. At normal scale, the gesture would seem innocuous, but their amplified dimensions give it a kind of poignancy and gravity. To the left of the space, a tiny many crouches under a bed sheet, its fabric clinging to the protruding vertebrae of his emaciated frame. The minute scale only heightens his vulnerability. The stunning, ever-so-slightly downscaled [start italic]Woman and Child[end italic] acts as something of a centrepiece. A frail, beautiful, old woman clutches a tiny newborn to her breast. It is the embodiment of intimacy and connection. In one scene, we witness the conclusion of one life and the beginning of another in all its sadness, joy and beauty. It’s a deft summation of Jinks’ work. While our immediate fascination may be one of an almost scientific, anatomical ilk, it is his masterful twisting, shrinking and augmenting of hyperrealism – his shifting of size and setting – that grants these works their elegiac, emotive and very much human potency. Wed to Sat 11am–5pm, until July 24.
WHAT Drew Pettifer: Hold onto your friendsWHERE No No Gallery, 14 Raglan Street, North Melbourne, 0405 968 618, nonogallery.org
Young Melbourne photographer Drew Pettifer’s erotic portraits and video work invoke intimacy and uneasiness in equal measure. Capturing his young, handsome male muses amid the rolling pastures and spectacular rural backdrops of his youth and childhood, Pettifer effectively imposes an urban queer aesthetic onto a landscape that espouses a very different kind of narrative. In the photographs, the often naked subjects play and pose confidently against the landscape. In one, “Dan” stands, head turned, among a forest of tall pines, his erect penis jutting out, perpendicular to the rest of the scene. In another, “Dylan” lurches from rock to rock, his naked body glowing against sprawling green. The video offers a rather different vantage. Slow, telescopic zooms eventually reveal two male figures in dense forest scenes, against towering mountainsides and on empty beaches, standing straight on, a hand placed on one other’s genitals. The young men seem awkward, lost, vulnerable in the extreme, the ominous voyeuristic gaze zooming ever closer. The difference between the bodies of work is stark. Indeed, while the photographs and video seem to both offer a kind of autobiographical engagement with a place and background, they each tell a very different chapter of the tale. Thurs to Sat noon–6pm, until July 24.
WHAT Anne Zahalka: The Way Things AppearWHERE Arc One Gallery, 45 Flinders Lane, city, 9650 0589, arc1gallery.com
This new series of works by celebrated Australian photomedia artist Anne Zahalka hones its focus on art’s interface with the public. Her handsome, large-scale prints capture fragments, nooks and crannies of various major public art museums – London’s National Portrait Gallery and the Art Gallery of New South Wales included – offering a first or second-person vantage of the just how the public engages with art. While the first-person photographs take the form of snapshots, giving an immediate sense of just what the audience observes in the gallery, the meticulously composed second-person photographs offer far more layers of interest. We not only sight the work, the viewer and a cropped corner of the gallery’s interior, but are led to consider the spatial, psychological and behavioural relationships at play in these major monuments to art. Tues to Sat 11am–5pm, until July 24.
WHAT Mike Parr: The Hallelujah ChorusWHERE Anna Schwartz Gallery, 185 Flinders Lane, city, 9654 6131, annaschwartzgallery.com
Known internationally for his often extreme forays into the testing of his physical and psychological limits, Australian printmaker and performance artist Mike Parr offers up a comparatively palatable, nonetheless visceral serve of new works over both floors of Anna Schwartz Gallery. The main focus is his massively scaled unique prints, which are rendered with a spectacular melange of raw details, scrawls and textures to form an odd strain of self-portraiture. The video work, Cartesian Corpse captures a recent, 34-hour endurance piece performed at the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery. Tues to Fri noon–6pm, Sat 1pm–5pm, until July 24.](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l5yic10VTT1qa3c8ao1_400.jpg)
AROUND THE GALLERIES Dan Rule
Published: The Age, A2, July 10, 2010.
WHAT Sam Jinks
WHERE Karen Woodbury Gallery, 4 Albert Street, Richmond, 9421 2500, kwgallery.com
Although both artists would loathe the comparison, it’s hard not to reference Ron Mueck when discussing the incredibly lifelike foam, silicon, paint and human hair sculptures of Melbourne artist Sam Jinks. His works hold such a resemblance to reality that you can’t help but be immediately affected by their presence; the intricate contours of skin, the weight of the flesh and curve of the implied skeletal structure. In the same breath, what makes Jinks’ work so engaging is its delicate detours from what we might otherwise frame in terms of “hyperrealism”. The three works that perch, spotlighted, in an otherwise dimmed Karen Woodbury Gallery each offer a distinct eschewal of scale and context. As we enter the space, two gigantic snails slither together in a seemingly romantic embrace. At normal scale, the gesture would seem innocuous, but their amplified dimensions give it a kind of poignancy and gravity. To the left of the space, a tiny many crouches under a bed sheet, its fabric clinging to the protruding vertebrae of his emaciated frame. The minute scale only heightens his vulnerability. The stunning, ever-so-slightly downscaled [start italic]Woman and Child[end italic] acts as something of a centrepiece. A frail, beautiful, old woman clutches a tiny newborn to her breast. It is the embodiment of intimacy and connection. In one scene, we witness the conclusion of one life and the beginning of another in all its sadness, joy and beauty. It’s a deft summation of Jinks’ work. While our immediate fascination may be one of an almost scientific, anatomical ilk, it is his masterful twisting, shrinking and augmenting of hyperrealism – his shifting of size and setting – that grants these works their elegiac, emotive and very much human potency. Wed to Sat 11am–5pm, until July 24.
WHAT Drew Pettifer: Hold onto your friends
WHERE No No Gallery, 14 Raglan Street, North Melbourne, 0405 968 618, nonogallery.org
Young Melbourne photographer Drew Pettifer’s erotic portraits and video work invoke intimacy and uneasiness in equal measure. Capturing his young, handsome male muses amid the rolling pastures and spectacular rural backdrops of his youth and childhood, Pettifer effectively imposes an urban queer aesthetic onto a landscape that espouses a very different kind of narrative. In the photographs, the often naked subjects play and pose confidently against the landscape. In one, “Dan” stands, head turned, among a forest of tall pines, his erect penis jutting out, perpendicular to the rest of the scene. In another, “Dylan” lurches from rock to rock, his naked body glowing against sprawling green. The video offers a rather different vantage. Slow, telescopic zooms eventually reveal two male figures in dense forest scenes, against towering mountainsides and on empty beaches, standing straight on, a hand placed on one other’s genitals. The young men seem awkward, lost, vulnerable in the extreme, the ominous voyeuristic gaze zooming ever closer. The difference between the bodies of work is stark. Indeed, while the photographs and video seem to both offer a kind of autobiographical engagement with a place and background, they each tell a very different chapter of the tale. Thurs to Sat noon–6pm, until July 24.
WHAT Anne Zahalka: The Way Things Appear
WHERE Arc One Gallery, 45 Flinders Lane, city, 9650 0589, arc1gallery.com
This new series of works by celebrated Australian photomedia artist Anne Zahalka hones its focus on art’s interface with the public. Her handsome, large-scale prints capture fragments, nooks and crannies of various major public art museums – London’s National Portrait Gallery and the Art Gallery of New South Wales included – offering a first or second-person vantage of the just how the public engages with art. While the first-person photographs take the form of snapshots, giving an immediate sense of just what the audience observes in the gallery, the meticulously composed second-person photographs offer far more layers of interest. We not only sight the work, the viewer and a cropped corner of the gallery’s interior, but are led to consider the spatial, psychological and behavioural relationships at play in these major monuments to art. Tues to Sat 11am–5pm, until July 24.
WHAT Mike Parr: The Hallelujah Chorus
WHERE Anna Schwartz Gallery, 185 Flinders Lane, city, 9654 6131, annaschwartzgallery.com
Known internationally for his often extreme forays into the testing of his physical and psychological limits, Australian printmaker and performance artist Mike Parr offers up a comparatively palatable, nonetheless visceral serve of new works over both floors of Anna Schwartz Gallery. The main focus is his massively scaled unique prints, which are rendered with a spectacular melange of raw details, scrawls and textures to form an odd strain of self-portraiture. The video work, Cartesian Corpse captures a recent, 34-hour endurance piece performed at the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery. Tues to Fri noon–6pm, Sat 1pm–5pm, until July 24.
