Spring 1883
Strawberry; Alex Vivian (on wall), Grace Anderson & Pip Lennon (stool, etc)
If you had told me I would be spending my Wednesday being offered glasses of champagne at the Windsor Hotel two weeks ago I don’t think I would have believed you. Alas sans champagne (for this review did not write itself) there I stood, ready to contend fully with a cornerstone of the Melbourne art calendar, the Spring1883 Art Fair. There are 35 galleries in this iteration of the fair, hailing mainly from Melbourne, but also Sydney, New Zealand, and Mildura.
My day at Spring1883 began with Kate Barber (fair co-founder and co-director) giving us a rundown of the fair in the gorgeous Kalli Rolfe Contemporary suite, its history, and her view on how it runs every year. Learning about the limitations of the heritage listing of the location- no damage to the walls means an unhealthy dependence on command hooks- and her vehement views on a non-hierarchical structure gave me the needed background to fully appreciate the ninth iteration of the fair. Important to note is that the rooms differ in size, obviously with the larger ones going to more established galleries but not for virtue of name, simply because it allows for the fair to provide a sliding scale, allowing for more young galleries and ARIs (artist-run initiatives) to take part.
Not to pick favourites, but in my research pre-preview, Strawberry was the gallery I was most interested in, and they did not disappoint. Hyped by Kate Barber in her opening remarks, they were the emerging gallery that she pointed to as what she saw for the future of the fair. Cesar Florence-Howard and Grace Anderson, the founders of the gallery and featured artists were on hand to talk through the exhibition space. More so than any other, Strawberry made full use of the hotel room. With bottles, clothes, chairs, and art everywhere it was chaos- a tableau of debauchery from Anderson and Pip Lennon. Bags made of stained glass and metal by Kostas Pavlidis were on the floor and desk, all bright colours evoking 2000s hollywood shopping spree excess. Bed sheets were on the wall, making up the canvas of Alex Vivian’s Boom! (the room sheet listing oil stick and filthy bed sheet as the medium). I can’t wait to see what they do next.
Arts Project Australia is a Melbourne institution for good reason. Their showing at Spring1883 was primarily small works of all mediums, but it commanded its space nonetheless. Lygin Ang’s works are installed like a set dressing, a glimpse into another life. In the bedroom closet, Terry Williams’ puppet is hiding from you, mid conversation with Adrian Lazzaro’s drypoint work. Bronwyn Hack and Miles Howard-Wilks’s earthenware sculptures are scattered about the bathroom, the latter’s crocodile a grinning reminder to brush your teeth. Back in the living area, the couch is crowned by ten abstract pieces by Julian Martin. Each is worthy of a closer look, but two of them, the vibrant green and the light blue, kept drawing my eye.
Beyond being a sponsor of the fair, I would say that Alpha60 itself is sponsored by the Melbourne art scene. At any given opening I have been to, there are always no less than 3 full Alpha60 outfits, and a handful of other pieces scattered throughout the rest of the attendees. In their project room, they platform Jen Valender. Valender was not only in attendance at the fair, but generous enough to walk me through the entire room. The exhibition, a continuation of Stormborne (which was a film installation projected on the walls of the brand’s Chapter House location) is deeply attuned to water and the role water in all its forms plays in our lives, specifically here in Melbourne. As she talked me through the installation, Valender pointed out her wry play of a body of water being the body on the hotel bed. The work on the bed was the video work that was shown at Chapter House. Scattered throughout the room was black fringe and drain charms. The drain charms were small scale sculptures, all of which have lived lives being activated along Elizabeth Street, the same CBD thoroughfare that was built upon a river. Valender spoke of the importance of the drains for keeping the water at bay, and her interest for everything we let loose into them. Take a peak into the toilet of room 422, and you’ll find a goldfish, in the bathtub- some hairy shrimp, and greeting you at the sink are crab claws. The shower is another video work, with an opera singer on loop (filmed in that very shower the night before). Valender is deeply attuned to our waterways and how we treat them. The show is intimate in its scale and its offerings- Valender shines in such a way that it wasn’t until I was walking out that I remembered I could buy the fringe bag on display.
Steven Rendall’s All these other rooms is a solo show worthy of a suite at the Windsor. With over 60 artworks, Rendall is creating a world of “what catches [his] eye.” Despite the sheer number of works, the room does not feel cluttered. Each canvas has its space to breathe, letting you take in each work- a stool from Antiques Roadshow, a pool shot, a disco ball, and more than one gas hob. Even the bathroom is full of details including a painted loo roll and toilet brush. If you have the chance to chat to Rendall, he brings you further into the world he’s painted, pointing out the grids that map out each work, and the importance of paying attention to the everyday details.
Brunswick based Animal House Fine Art brought their own walls to the Windsor. Rather than contending with command strips (and a prayer), they got around the ‘no damage to the walls’ clause by simply bringing their own boards to hang their works on. They don’t contend with the limitations of the location so much as turn them on their head. It was almost jarring to walk into a room that felt so removed from the period details of the hotel, though the chintz drapes remained. Beneath said drapes were two tables featuring sculptural works by Yusi Zang and Chris Madden. With Beth Maslen’s work as a backdrop, an outstretched, bloodied palm invites you to a buffet of plaster, (faux) pigeon, and ash filled lunchboxes. On the walls are a diversity of artists, including Madeleine Peters’ tender works of a hand twirling a flower. Left Hand from Portrait of a Man with Carnation is two separate works of disparate sizes. At first glance, they seem to only differ in size, but in fact these are two different moments, hand moved just so, carnation slightly turned. Facing Maslen are Tim Woodward’s radios rewired as smoke alarms. I’ll take Woodward’s word on their rewiring (I didn’t fancy being escorted from the premises for attempting a demonstration), the work itself looks ready to scream. Every work at Animal House held its own, a true menagerie of mediums and styles.
Rebecca Suares-Jury’s rumination is sprawled on the bed at Mary Cherry Contemporary. Looking down on the abstract work in the middle of the king sized bed feels intimate, almost wrong, like the work is vulnerable. Flanked by Melissa Nguyen on either bedside, the scene is ominously evocative of a state funeral, Nguyen’s expansive works standing sentry on either side. The monochrome oil works are phenomenal in their technical skills and detail. Each canvas feeling like an old family photograph unearthed, ready to disrupt your long held truths. (read Bec’s review of Nguyen’s solo show at Mary Cherry here) Naoise Holloran-Mackay’s organza and timber works are showcased exactly how they deserve to be seen, with sunlight streaming through the windows, illuminating the intricacies of Halloran-Mackay’s craft.
Generally it might be bad form to walk into a gallery to immediately head into the bathroom, but at FUTURES I would say its worse form not to. Perched atop the (closed) toilet is Chunxiao Qu’s Wig Shoes No.2, a pair of Balenciaga heels covered in a synthetic bleach blonde wig. In the bathtub is their 2019 neon work EVERYONE IS EVERYONE ELSE. Excess/Support 11 by Sean Crossley is perched by the mirror, and we haven’t even left the loo. Down the hall, into the main room of the suite is the king sized bed. On said king sized bed is there a canvas making me ponder the limits of the corporeal? No. A delicate sculpture playing with the illustrious history of the hotel? Honestly, in a way yes. Smack in the centre of said bed is Matthew Harris and Tyrone Te Waa’s Looks like all we’ve got is each other. What is best described as a giant Labubu with a possum skin bikini top, flower print thong, heels, and an enviable set of pseudo acrylics is a wry, timely stitch up of online culture and our consumer obsessed selves. Sarah Drinan’s Full Body/Body Full only adds to the disorienting scene, complementing the fabric world of the felt sculpture with her fleshy, almost grabbable oil and acrylic work. FUTURES is too much in the best, most outlandish sense of the word. Honestly, if a giant Labubu in the middle of the bed isn’t going to get you into FUTURES Gallery, the wig shoes just might.
I ended my day as I began it, in a mainstay suite- Sarah Scout Presents- chatting to Kate Barber. Throughout their third floor suite are works by Lauren Dunn, sumptuous, distorted, near mysterious images mounted on poles. Cruel Optimism kept drawing my eye, making the poles feel like a key part of the artwork, as well as an ingenious way to display sans command strips. Kate pointed me in the direction of Dunn’s works, as well as the video work Her Arrival by Kate Consandine. Walking through the room I could see the larger vision for Spring1883, and why it feels uniquely Melbourne- it brings the art to you, putting it in a place that while definitely not a home, people call home for the night every day of the year.
Spring1883 is calling The Windsor Hotel home until August 16th.
Written by Charlotte McKinnon
Bec’s editors note: It’s so exciting that Spring 1883 reached out to invite Lowbrow to this press preview. As a new publication, with only five months worth of writing to show as a back catalogue, there’s not too much for them to go on when asking if we wanted to come. Yet, I think it reflects what this non-traditional art fair is trying to achieve, in making space for the little guy alongside the big hitters of the art industry (see Strawberry being subsidised by Sarah Scout to be able to participate in the fair). While I was quite upset that I wasn’t able to attend myself, I knew Charlotte would eat up this experience. Here’s to all the big things still to come for Lowbrow!