mardi-gras

So here we are in May and I am just catching up on Sydney’s Mardi Gras that ran from 20^th Feb to 8^th March. And, anyway, I didn’t get around to go to the celebrations. Although I did have the pleasure of witnessing a rehearsal in the forecourt of St Mary’s cathedral; nicely segued with a heterosexual Japanese couple having their wedding photos taken. Very Sydney.

no labels but lots of logo

One of MONA’s deliberate anarchies is to not label the work. Instead if you want you can hook up with iPods and/or headphones (the O guide) and learn about the art as you go; from a series of different voices, including Walsh’s own reasons for buying a piece. However, the project is supported by a large amount of written material – Monanisms, the catalogue for the opening show; the Making of MONA about the whole project; and David Walsh’s memoir A Bone of Fact. We may not be given ‘proper’ art-gallery-type instructions about how to read the art (who made it, when, what out of, where and in what context) but there is a tremendous amount of post-modern, post-everything ‘stuff’ which surrounds the collection, infused by all the irony, partiality, cleverness, and witty asides one has come to expect. How long this will seem ‘on-trend’ rather than deeply dated waits to be seen.

shocking?

The collected work at MONA focuses on the visceral, the ritualistic and the mythological (with some post-modern ‘Disneyland’ thrown in); picking up a rich thread in modern and contemporary art and tying it back to ancient Egyptian artifacts and the like. We are meant to be shocked – by the building’s unexpectedness, by the lack of labels on the work, by the refusal of ‘artwank’ and by the work itself. 

It is, of course, an artificial controversy (one that Walsh himself only seems often bored by). We have already had, after all ‘ the shock of the new’ of modern art, and it is nearly 20 years since Saatchi’s Sensation show spotlighting the supposedly notorious Young British Artists (the YBAs) and their enthusiasm for the distasteful and bloody.

Walsh’s collection, though, brings that attitude decidedly into the 21^st century and into the act of collecting and displaying work itself. The current guest exhibition is Matthew Burney’s Riverof Fundament, which seems a perfect fit. Other large permanent pieces such as Anselm Kiefer’s Sherivath ha Kelim, give some organizational structure to the space. This has it’s own pavilion (entered via a long dark and musical concrete pipe, which suddenly spits you out into really unexpected daylight).  It is also a ‘classic’ marker of the kind of work on show. For, despite all the hype, the work on show is both an incredibly coherent selection - whether you like it or not- of where much contemporary art has been going.

going the whole ho-ho-hog

There are so many impressive christmas themed houses and apartments around, enough to make it difficult to choose which one to show. I have gone for this beaut - mainly because at other times of year it has had a full-sized model sheep on display instead. 

true or false

And whilst I am on the birds - is this notice a sign of typical Aussie humour ("doesn't have a name but may respond to James") or a real cry for help?

PS: Australian magpies are yet another of those slightly over-the-top local species; they are renowned for physically attacking people, if you happen to walk or cycle past their nest. 

fashionable

I have been taking inordinate numbers of photographs of the older Australian – both male and female – because I really like their style, which definitely tends to the eccentric. Although given that most everyone, particularly near the beach, seems to wear relatively random items and not much of that, maybe just part of a more general non-age-specific continuum. Makes me feel very uptight and British; all those layers I am used to hiding behind. The combination of 40 degrees, glaring heat, torrential rain storms and high humidity is playing havoc with my sartorial choices.

city bingo 2: humorous signage

Humorous names for shops, products and businesses abound here; and not based on subtlety either*. The photo shows one of my favourite examples - although the fresh fish fillet brand called 'the one that got away' also appeals. A new local fish and chip shop (chipper) is about to open in Coogee and has a facebook competition for its naming. So looking forward to that.

And whilst I am at it, this seems a good moment to mention the drop bear. Not only for the creature itself but also its fine entry on Uncyclopedia ('the content-free encyclopedia') under the heading "this article may be Overtly Australian. Pommies may not understand funny stuff, only humour. Cannucks and Yanks may not understand anything at all. Don't change a thing and she'll be right, mate!"


* I am not alone in noting the application of Australian humour to signs - as always buzzfeed has got there first with a list and photos.

stationery

And then, of course, I find myself in exactly one of those weirdly-wonderful ordinary situations. In a stationers in Newtown. Where paper is piled so high, and in such a disorganized way, yellowing and dusty, that it is almost impossible to enter the shop and even harder to find a person of whom to make enquiries. The shop actually contains two men, one tall, gaunt and grumpy who sits at the till, but does not know the price of anything, and doesn't really want to serve you. And then from the back, a very elderly and rather short and plump gentleman, who started to serve me ( plastic sleeves for photographs to sell - a whole other story) but then gets distracted for a considerable amount of time with ordering ever more paper and supplies over the phone.

It took him at least 10 minutes to find the items I was after, involving a lot of shifting of mainly derelict pieces of machinery at the back of the store, and much tottering under heavy boxes. And then, of course, the sleeves were incredibly cheap and in the meantime we had a very long, interesting conversation about printing inks.