On TikTok as Art
In the absence of any true entry level gallery representation, some of Melbourne’s brightest young artists are best found on tiktok. In the hopes of exploring our truly lowbrow Melbourne art scene, please enjoy the first in what I hope is a series on the creators I am finding most inspiring on your most addictive short form video platform.
This all began with Edward Gates’ (@edward.gates) Blender-made video of a first date at Cinema Nova. My notes from when I saw the video back in June unhesitatingly call it the defining video work of the 2020s in Melbourne. I am prone to aggrandising when scrolling through TikTok at 2am, but I might be on to something. It’s so hyperspecific - who hasn’t gone on a Cinema Nova first date - and unhesitatingly making reference to the now (Timothee Chalamet in full Marty Supreme). I DM’d Gates asking about it, asking whether he identifies himself as an artist, and the inspiration for the video:
I’m a fan of Cinema Nova as an institution of Melbourne l and thought it would be a fun place to make a video based around and if enough eyes went onto it people would be able to pick up on hidden Easter eggs I put within the video.
TBD on self-identifying as an artist, but I’ll do it for him. It’s an anomaly in his catalogue (the rest of his videos being shorts and episodic comedies), but you see how he got here. I would have asked what he’s planning on next, if he’ll continue his Blender adventures, but I don’t think I need to know. It’s a work that in attempting to be replicated, could totally lose what makes it timely, absurdist, perhaps accidental, art.
Good art is ruined by trying to constantly one-up yourself, or even trying to constantly do the same thing. Sophia Cussell (@glow.phia) is perhaps the exception to this rule. Their videos on the 96 tramline first popped up when PTV was free and they still haven’t gotten old. It’s the video, where they’re hosting a rave celebrating the renewal of free public transport (RIP) that gave me the inkling to think critically about short form content as a cornerstone of art production, an inkling that Gates’ work exploded open. What Cussell is doing feels tantamount to happenings, with documentation that feels as ephemeral as the video. They’re works that I worry will disappear, remaining only in memory without some savvy digital hoarder making sure they have a permanent home. In an algorithm based world, the art finds you or it doesn’t; you need the algorithm to deem you worthy.
There’s a throughline of irreverence in the videos that stand out on my algorithm. Our lowbrow FYP is filled with Franco Cozzo after dark, Juniper Care’s train station jingles, and many of the artists we have covered. My own is breakdowns on why Gen Alpha slang is inherently dadaist and advertisements for Mindy Seu’s talk on the Sexual History of the Internet. I would say none of them are trying too hard, but the beauty of them is that they inherently are trying. All art is. It is an effort to use your skills and make a video. Regardless of how low-poly it is, editing is no small feat. Putting yourself out there is surrendering yourself to outside opinion.
I truly believe that some of the art that will come to define this Melbourne of the 2020s will come from the short form video platforms (TikTok for purists, reels a couple of weeks later). Whether its a Cinema Nova date night, the brief but beautiful moment we didn’t have to worry about Myki inspectors, or even just straight to camera “let me show you this painting,” coming direct to consumer allows for a level of independence (financial and creative) that is absent in a non-digital sphere.
If you know a creator I should check out, please email me at bottomshelf.lowbrow@gmail.com