LOWBROW
•
LOWBROW •
Olivia Laing is perhaps the author I recommend to those with a passing interest in art criticism, or just good writing. They capture the essence of things without bogging you down, expanding your understanding without talking down to you. It can be read straight through, or copiously noted and annotated, a starting point to go further. It’s the kind of writing that makes you a better reader, and a better writer in turn for that. Laing’s prose has turns of phrase I want to sink my teeth into: “the glowing clamshells of their laptops”, “the rest are simply openings, apertures”, “palliative to loneliness.” My list could be endless, my notes surely feel that way.
KINGS Artist-Run is a gallery we’ve sorely neglected here on Lowbrow for the year we’ve been publishing. The gallery, now solidly a West Melbourne staple, started 23 years ago in the CBD and has a rich history for being the proving ground for many artists who have gone on to be acquired by institutional collections, or come full circle as the lecturers now teaching the current group of exhibitors at art school. Currently on at KINGS are three shows; Pith and Seed curated by Gabriella Bartolo-Kanellopoulos, Surplus Pleasure: Load from last checked point.dat by Barcode People, and Do you remember? by Panisa Ongwat.
Beckoning you in is Pao Pao (the goldfish from Kelly Yu’s Endling) set against a white wall, blocking the exhibition from sight. Being on a plinth, against a stark wall, in a sparse tank, Pao Pao is loneliness in its most raw form. Once recovered from my aquatic animal-related existential crisis, I dutifully read the opening didactic (with a prerequisite Olivia Laing quote on loneliness supplementing the introduction) and finally faced the cavernous hall. ACCA feels almost supernaturally massive inside; a size and scale well suited to an exhibition capitalizing on loneliness, and the inherent connection we all have through those moments.
Counihan Gallery, on Sydney Road in the heart of Brunswick, is a council gallery for the people. Currently on view are four shows, each entirely their own: Colour My World by Joshua Hede, Not a fine artist, just a "fine" artist by Judy Kuo, Mulana by ENOKi, and Things I Carried Quietly by Nani Puspasari. The exhibitions did not feel connected, but they did not need to be. Counihan knows their space well enough that each holds its own, no encroaching or overshadowing, despite the airiness of the gallery.
Be the first to know about new reviews.
It feels very full circle to be writing about fortyfive downstairs’ 2026 Emerging Artist Award. Even though Charlotte was the one who covered the show last year, there’s a certain joy in Lowbrow being back at the same exhibition a year later. We’re growing and we’re evolving but we’re still focused where we want to be; on the emerging artists and their work. Equally, it’s gratifying to see some of the artists that I’ve written about before being included in this show: Ruinscape by Grace Mitchell which I wrote about in Held, Altered at No Vacancy, and also face of an orchid by Tara Howe which I wrote about in silently, childhood’s crystalline paths sank in the garden at Oddany gallery. That was the third ever post on Lowbrow, and now I’m seeing Howe’s work again over a year later, and loving even more on second viewing the delicate orchid made softly solid.