How does art make you feel?
Viewing it, I mean.
My true confession? I don’t go to too many exhibitions. I should. I’d like to. I just don’t.
I prefer to MAKE art
or to witness other people
(often those who don’t see themselves as artists)
I guess I’m a good match for my very own Art and Soul practice, where I get to witness AND facilitate.
I chanced upon The National exhibition in Sydney at Carriageworks
earlier in the year.
I noticed an abundance of installations, groupings of similar objects. Can’t think of the specific name for that type of work.
Who knew there were so many styles of banana box?
Cartonography FNQ just made me feel plain happy.
A Sorcerer’s Dress obliged me to explore, inspect, discover. It activated my inner tactility. And spoke to my spiritual nature.
Months later, I saw more of The National. This time at Art Gallery of NSW.
There were more installation groupings of similar stuff. I still couldn’t think of the name of that type of work, but I liked a lot of it. Koji Ryui’s glassy work touched my beauty nerve.
Another grouped glass found objects sculpture brought glazed glimmers of beauty, expansion, possibility…
A stack of meaningful burnt chairs directly spoke to the nostrils of my heart. You could smell the fire. Powerful. Political.
Talking of powerful, political. Sally M. Nangala Mulda’s work punched me in the guts. Simple; story; day to day moments of life in the Northern Territory intervention removed the breath from my lungs.
Then…light relief. The Young Archies. Portraits by children. Scarlett Li’s work made me smile. Like the banana boxes, it brought me a dose of happy.
For dessert, Michael Landy’s No Frills series prompted me to laugh out loud. Actual LOL. Most unusual.
The elements that touched me.
And you? What aspects of art-viewing spark or sustain you? Please tell.
with love, art and soul