Exhibited work part 1

This is only a small selection of stuff that I’ve had in various shows – some I’ve never documented, because of various reasons, mostly involving money and time.The boxPost Uni I tried going in group shows occasionally and submitted this to a Linden show. I’m strangely fond of this piece. Inside are fragments of my diary of the time, on strips of heavily starched opaque fabric. I sewed them into a plastic butter dish that had been carefully sanded to an semi transparent finish so that you can’t read the contents. It remains unopened in my studio.

I also submitted another bunch of things to Linden the year after – I had become fascinated with transparencies (a hang over from my honours years).

I also became fascinated with the colour of human blood.

This work was in my end of year group show at Span in Flinders Lane. It caused an ex-friend who would have much rather hung out at some shitty dive in the city for male attention than go to this show to snap “What the fuck is it meant to be?” at me.

Fun times.

This would have really fucked her up if she had bothered to come to this one at Re vault in RMIT.

I found out about the below exhibition when one of the guys at Art Stretchers congratulated me on being in the show – the department head at RMIT has selected some work from our folio for that year to go in a show at the Old Treasury Buildings. It was a bunch of small, fiddly work that was starting to use text, transparencies, alternatives to canvas, and pictures of my family.

My first name was spelt wrong on the info tag, but I didn’t give a rats’ ass. Many years later I stood again in that room, on my wedding day, so I have a slight fondness for the old shack.

This work was shown at our final Honours exhibition at 200 Gertrude Street. At the time I was fantastically confident about this work, but now I’m unsure. It’s a series of interlocking plastic sleeves that go from big to small, encased in flesh coloured transparent fabric sewn together in a rough manner with thread that looks like hair.

If I did it again, I’d construct a much better foundation and mount for it, hand dye the fabric so that it was much, much closer to skin colour, and then fill that fucker with so much hair that it spilled out of the ends and trailed on the ground. But at the time I didn’t have time to do that, plus it was a more subtle expression of the work I was showing for my Honours folio. My school studio got robbed just before this so I was short of cash, and hair is really expensive, even synthetic hair.

Then after school, my exhibition partner and I had this (tiny) exhibition in Gertrude Street. It was titled Domos Monstrous.

I showed a series of paintings (which sold on the night, yay!)

In addition to the little tableau at the top, I had a couple of textile based works.

I sold enough at this exhibition to cover the rent of the space, so in all, a goodish result. I had expected to sell nothing and be denounced as a shitty artist by random passers by, so I was pleasantly surprised.

About victoria

Artist. Over sharer. Angry little ball of impotent rage. I'm 45, but I look 46, and feel 23.
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4 Responses to Exhibited work part 1

  1. Heather says:

    Do you know where the paintings are living now? Would be fascinating to know the “afterlife” of a painting once you have sold it, like family history…

  2. victoria says:

    The set of four were bought by a friend, so I know where they are, one I gave to someone who really liked it, and the other one was bought by a stranger at the gallery, it’s probably at a Savers somewhere.

  3. kerynrobinsonartist says:

    I think most people are too scared to denounce anyone as a shitty artist, because so much art that’s exhibited is quite strange or ugly… or hard to understand.
    Except friends of course, who can be the harshest critics!

    • victoria says:

      I had a teacher who once told me ‘you can be naive in concept or naive in execution, but you can’t be naive in both”. These were wise words from a man who left his wife and family for a young sculpture student. Art is dodgy.

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