Sunday, 11 November 2018

Glenn Locklee

04 November - 08 December     Commute

Link to artist's website

Glenn Locklee. Commute 2018.

Glenn Locklee is a mysterious artist. His conversations, like his urgently painted pictures are littered with insights and confidences that avoid facts. His pictures, like his urgently delivered conversations craft “snap shots” into deliberate looking abstractions. The mystery of course is how the artist weaves life into art and then weaves art back into life.

These pictures seem to begin with a photograph, a snap shot of an image caught on the run between one place and another that is rendered with the sureness and brevity of reality. The rest of the painting recasts that “snap shot” as a bit player in a formal rendering of the painting as an abstract composition. One section of the picture may be a detail of the “snap shot” another may be a meditation on a surface texture drawn from the detail while another is simply an area of paint applied to the surface of the picture. But the subject of the painting might not be the “snap shot”; it might be the passage of thought from one place to another place that is literally in the painting. This would be the fictional journey from an allusion of reality to a concrete fact, as truthful as the painting is real.

The passage of fact shifting through time is a device in popular culture. Simplistically it’s Post Modern Theory and in art history it is Cubism. This is the idea that a real-truthful-factual picture of something is an amalgamation of various views of it. Modern artists in Paris came up with this portentous idea a century ago. And in a physical and a meta-physical way it accommodates the “bumpy” nature of our universe where light travels, not in straight lines, but in board arching curves that invite the observer to simultaneously observe the observation.

In that sense, these graphically arresting pictures are a bit like comics that are parables of fact.
-Tony Twigg

Monday, 8 October 2018

Juni Salvador

30 September - 3rd November     Fairy Lights and Fairy Fails
Link to artist's website

Juni Salvador. Fairy Lights and Fairy Fails, 2018.
Juni Salvador tells a migrants' tale. Not of riches won or of disgruntlement but of a man who has not found a home. It is the observer’s tale.

He came with his family to a good and steady life in Australia, job, car, a town house and weekends in his artist’s studio at a corner of the dining room table. In Juni’s hometown, Makati a city in Metro Manila, his collage works are exhibited with a cohort of artists who are engaged in a protracted dialogue about art and anti-art.   Here the same work seems out of context. In response Juni has adopted the new role of observer, a position he has explored across an open-ended series of installations made for SLOT.

These works have their materials in common, second hand art prints sourced from thrift shops in the northern suburbs of Sydney. Re-exhibited as ready-made art, usually with the price tag intact Juni points out that our visual culture is what we hang on our walls. Like the artist himself his materials hover in a provisional space between belonging and not belonging. Discarded by their owners they wait for someone with less discriminating requirements and a comparatively smaller budget to claim them. For Juni this charity collapses the province of poverty and opulence into fiction.

Here the handsomely framed print, value $15, which by the way is attributed to Goya on the back has become the provisional context for a photograph. The image is of a homeless person’s washing hung out to dry on the wire fence of a parking lot. It’s a common sight in Manila where it is a function of necessity. Here draped in fairy lights Juni weaves it into his migrants tale, be that from the province to Manila or from the third world to the first world, it is of moths drawn to those flashy lights and the migrants' loss to their allure.

-Tony Twigg


Monday, 17 September 2018

Suellen Symons

14 September - 29 September      Redfern, then and now
Link to artist's website

Suellen Symons, who has lived in Redfen, not far from Slot for many years is now moving on. By way of farewell she has assembled an exhibit that recalls a moment, generations ago when Redfern was subdivided to provide terraces for that generations gentle folk. Patiently Suellen has watched as the gentle folk of her own generation have reclaimed the same streets of terraces. Just as patiently she has watched apartment blocks replace the warehouses built over demolished terraces that had replaced the farmlets hewn from the not so virgin bush of Aboriginal Australia. There is weariness to Suellen’s patience in her departure. We discover a-new in the glorious now of our arrival, blissfully defined by what ever was there on the day. Then something changes; there is an improvement, other things wear out. Decay does battle with sentimentality then, almost before we notice there is comfort in the bits that survive from whenever it was that then was. The joy of Suellen’s parting gift to these streets that we have only ever known as old is the moment of their newness. For me it evokes an eventual yet equally remote completeness that we will never see. For Suellen this is an obituary to now and a lament for what was and longer is, offered as she is subsumed into the glorious now of elsewhere.

- Tony Twigg