MY NONNA

 

It's the weekend, and I've been sent to my Nonno and Nonna's house in town. Their home is a distinctive white brick two-story with concrete lions on the front gate and a water fountain adorned with mythical figures and cherubic angels. The veranda is tiled in blue and white geometric and floral patterns.

Inside, I'm greeted by a brown, black, and gold paisley carpet that sets the scene amidst a plethora of religious and Italian iconography. The living room, adorned with wallpaper of repetitive designs, features chandeliers with faux crystals. It's here that I'd spend hours, captivated by the surroundings, often trying to sketch every detail.

I vividly recall one night catching "The Exorcist" on TV and being thoroughly spooked.  I would occasionally sneak a chair to grab one the " crystals" off the chandeliers to draw when my Nonni were out.

Then, there was the sewing room—a treasure trove of markers, needles, threads, fabrics, and the giant black scissors. The old manual Singer sewing machine not only served as a place for sewing but also housed treats in one drawer and loose change in another.

Growing up and spending countless hours at my Nonni's house allowed me to explore and express myself. While my Nonno spoke a bit of English, my Nonna didn't speak a word, often requiring me to translate phone conversations. I fondly remember my Nonna teaching me how to draw flowers, a skill that would shape my artistic journey.

As I grew more aware, I began to see Picasso, Matisse, and Warhol's works and couldn't help but think, "Hey, they copied my Nonna!" She had immigrated from Italy shortly after the war, finding work as a dressmaker in Melbourne while my Nonno had settled in Mildura earlier. They spent much of their lives working the land, imparting sincerity and honesty into everything they did.

Looking back, I now appreciate my Nonna's artwork without needing to translate or understand the technicalities; it speaks to me in my own artistic language. Her pieces have become teaching aids in my own practice, offering me comfort in my mistakes and teaching me to embrace and be proud of them—there's no need to conceal imperfections.

GIANNI VESARCE

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YWtaRvqvw9s

I remember in 1997 getting ready to go to school, the morning tv in the back round, Versace is dead. My father mentions he his Calabrese like us. A man from humble origins. Gianni hails from the Province of Reggio Calabria. The same part of Italy were my family are from. The area is rich in history particularly of the classical greek era. His mother being the greatest influence on his life. She was a dressmaker. He did not excel academically and spend the the best parts of his childhood in his mothers atelier . I admire his use of colour there all mixed together. bordeaux with yellow colours that you wouldn’t normally see together but he works it with his form being the clothes and makes it his own. In a sense I use it with my imagery. 

LACK OF FAILER = LACK OF TALENT

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YryiZX2bhmE

The words of Eugene Hutz is a constant reminder when faced with the struggles with what I am creating, be it with my own studio practice or within the academic space working against something being true being fearless of the chance of failure. " The lower you are going to fall. The higher your going to fly."

MIKE PARR

 Mike Parr says of his work in his exhibition Volte Face “100 self portraits seem to say that there is no self-portrait, there is just a sort of process” I find this an essential realization within my own practice. For me the discovery of theory is through the act of making a mark, and the reflection it then presents. This is the process I am taking to represent myself through my series of ‘portraits.’ 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ddIreXQMlw&list=PL5uUen04IQNm5bUDiUDb15uYEa5WDNYtt&index=232

Charline von Heyl is a German abstract painter who works with various mediums, collage, drawing, printmaking. I often talk about if the viewer captures what I am thinking from immediately looking at my painting, then I am doing my job as a painter. The space between me and the painting has been activated. Charlene captures this. "What I want to do in a painting is establish this relationship of now, you know that you are actually in the moment in front of a painting and something happens, what I want to happen is that space between the painting and the viewer gets activated, and it activates a viewer to form a relationship. So the painting almost homeless in front of itself, between the viewer and canvas". I like that Charline has the idea of paintings being born out of a design, but to break it from design, you need to or come to a point where you build it work it break it and from the frictions arriving at a point where the painting is done. Then out of know where you come to a point where you stand back, take a look at the work, "and think how the fuck did I come to this". Gosh, this painting is good.