Part video work, part installation, ENEMIES! at TCB Gallery is a send up of the Melbourne arts scene that’s as funny as it is true. I’ll admit, when I first walked into TCB and saw two coffins, my expectations plummeted. Death of the artist, death of creativity, death of art were the first things that crossed my mind. The computer, perhaps too reminiscent of those I’ve spent my career working on, did not beckon me in. I turned away and took a look at Emma Nicole Berry’s a week long waiting room, filled with colour and images and prose before contending with Brunswick's own corporate hellscape. 

Though hardly the first event of the year, the Melbourne Art Fair marks the end of summer, a back to school for the art scene in the city. It’s a key time to take the temperature of the market, see what is in vogue (abstract expressionism always) and out of favour (photography, with two notable exceptions). The Melbourne Art Fair is not lowbrow, though I certainly felt I was wandering through opening night. 

Walking down High St, the gnarled hands in the window were my first clue I was in the right place. The second was the canary yellow paste-ups papering the side of the building. At 83 High St in Prahran, an old, abandoned office building has been transformed into an art-filled haven, office-standard concrete and carpet notwithstanding. The hands were simultaneously flipping me off and beckoning me in, and were a great taster for what I would find inside of the fair, which for 2026 is aptly titled “Lust for Life.” There was never a time in the show that any one artist’s practice could have been confused with another. The curation was such that each inclusion was singular, yet the works spoke to each other but never repeated what the other was saying. 

Blindside is a mainstay of the Melbourne art scene. We’ve covered it multiple times from the inception of Lowbrow. The gallery found a home in the Nicholas building for years, and has recently bade farewell to the space, with its big windows and temperamental elevators, and moved to 54 Errol Street - a City of Melbourne owned shopfront in North Melbourne. The new space is long and narrow; it clearly had a former life as a family home attached to a shopfront. It's a space that calls for creativity in exhibition design in order to make full use of the long hallways and somewhat incongruous spaces. Chokehold was the inaugural exhibition: a one day photographic show, with a panel discussion and, of course, a peep show in the new back garden. This show is also a return and a goodbye for Sherburn - part of the Blindside team for many years, who stepped away at the end of last year. In their own words: “I’m very confident in how this is really the much needed future step for such a significant, heritage form of an artist-run space.”

In lieu of a review this week, I’m looking back at some of the art that stuck with me this year. I won’t lie to you and say these are all strictly things covered for Lowbrow or Lowbrow-esque (the AGNSW was my first gallery of the year), but they are my picks, and I am inherently lowbrow. Please enjoy my top 11 picks from 2025 in chronological order (of course I couldn’t whittle it down to just 10).

January 3: Just like drops in time, nothing by Ernesto Neto at the Art Gallery of New South Wales. The installation of this 2002 work overtook my senses. For the first time in my life, I smelled an artwork before seeing it. The stockings, filled with spices poured onto the floor, overtaking the space with their smell and colour. Having just been in San Francisco at the SFMoMA days before, I was immediately reminded of Ruth Asawa’s sculptures in the shape and feel of Neto’s installation.

Round 2 of the RMIT grad shows left a lot to be desired. For whatever reason, most works felt like I had seen them before, not in the sense that they felt warmly familiar, but that I was being shown the same exhibition time and again. I’ll also admit I had higher expectations for this post-graduate exhibition. I generally liked most of the work, but not much of it jumped out to me as favourites. Lots of it blended into each other. This could be due to grad show fatigue of sorts? Seeing so much graduating student work in such a short amount of time, it’s impossible to not compare it all to each other. 

I went into the MADA Grad Show with no expectations. The campus is foreign to me, I don’t know any of the grads, and the people I know who go to Monash are in the music department. I was blown away. Given all the artists are BFAs or Honours, and my somewhat chaotic experience of the RMIT show, I expected a similar experience- in fact I skipped out on opening night in the hopes of avoiding chaos. I regret that, and will not be making the same mistake again. The show feels almost airy. Each artist has space to breathe, the building is gorgeous, with ample light and wooden floors. With limited exceptions, each artist felt like they had taken full advantage of their time at art school, producing works that felt like the full culmination of an undergrad. 

The opening night of the RMIT grad show was sticky, heaving, and a good reminder that my clubbing days are behind me. Bec and I trekked to Swanston street twice to view it, once in all its opening night chaos, and then the next morning for a more relaxed, albeit agenda driven visit. 

Now in its third year, Ants at Unassigned Gallery feels like a cornerstone of their calendar, the embodiment of the community focused gallery in Brunswick. The show is one in a number of small works exhibitions either on or coming up on the Melbourne arts calendar at the moment, though this iteration of the genre feels distinctly community minded, as most shows at Unassigned do. The show runs the gamut of genre, medium, and style, though there are a few recurring themes (namely the titular insect). With the smallest work measuring at just centimetres, it’s an exhibition that firmly shows you size isn’t everything, and that even the smallest works can pack a punch. The show is massive - 183 artists - but not unruly. The size made me focus on the details, in which I was too wrapped up to be bogged down by the sheer number of works on display.

There’s something in the air, or is it in the oven- food has been a trend all over clothes (why are we so obsessed with tomatoes, and lemons, and canned fish?) that is now bleeding into the art world. For me (and most of us) food has shaped my life.An unconventional (read: international) upbringing exposed me not only to art at a young age, but a wide variety of foods. I grew up counting down the days towards meals- Canadian Thanksgiving (immediate family, Mum’s brûléed sweet potatoes), Christmas Eve (California, Auntie Lynn’s kielbasa hors d'oeuvre), Christmas (flaming plum pudding), Easter (ham), and Mother’s Day (Les Fougeres’ house salad). It was these moments at tables that made up the year more than the holidays themselves. In so much of the art I’ve seen lately, these links have been reflected back to me. Cooking and art are labours of love, they feed us, and often don’t get the appreciation the time and effort deserve. 

For four nights (and four nights only) Collingwood Yards was the home to Entangled Worlds, a Melbourne Fringe Festival activation by the Centre for Projection Arts. Curated by Yandell Walton, the event put the site into a new light (pun intended). I spent the night looking up, around, and all over in pursuit of the ephemeral artworks. The exhibition put a spotlight on the Centre’s Art Residency program, with all eleven of the featured artists either currently taking part or alumni of it. 

Amanda Western’s Ways Through opens with an explanation of the linocut process, with her tools on a plinth, arming you with the knowledge that each print on show is the result of years of practice, and dozens of hours of painstaking carving. After that, you immediately encounter  the block and artist print for her Country Lane work. Between the size and the detail, it’s an apt greeting to an exhibition that runs the gamut of print sizing and detail, and a warm welcome to a show about the quiet moments and everyday places.

87 artists would be an ambitious group show for a large gallery. Even in an airy space like No Vacancy it felt overwhelming at points- with the sheer mass of the crowd for the opening I had to return the next day to get a full grasp of the show (and to take it in, while not covered in red wine). Wine-gate occurred right in the middle of the speeches announcing the winner, and was so obvious that I was recognised at the very next opening I went to as the girl who wore the wine at No Vacancy (I am so sorry to the bartender for bringing this up, it could have happened to anyone). After dropping my pants off at the dry cleaners, I returned to the scene of the crime to find out who actually won. The winning work, Horse Shell Tell Tale by Natalie Bessell won a solo show in the gallery space. Ruby Archer’s intimate oil on pine work Drive got the honourable mention.

Mary Cherry Contemporary is my pick for best named gallery in Melbourne. It’s just fun to say. Currently on at the Collingwood space is Jen Valender’s solo show Null is Not an Object. The exhibition feels intimate and meticulous, each work key in telling a wider story. It’s an homage to Valender’s early job as a cinema projectionist- a return to working intimately with celluloid film.

Curated by British born RMIT lecturer Jennifer Conroy Smith, Sensory Clay does not break boundaries as a group show, but does showcase promising artists from RMIT’s talent pool. On the whole, I found the show exciting. Ceramics is an under-represented field, but something I find is gaining more and more traction as emerging artists gain support. In particular, artists playing with form and blurring the barriers of materiality will be my enduring memory of this show.

In the nook of First Site is Xinshuo Zhuo’s Unnatured. Presented alongside three other exhibitions, Zhuo’s is the quietest. The works did not strike me at first sight, it was only in sitting with them- getting closer and truly taking my time that the detail and nuance struck me. Going back through them, finding the motifs (the butterflies, the obscured sun, the faceless woman, the hair) I wanted more. What Zhuo captures with analogue photography feels like nothing that could be imitated with modern means. There is a delicacy to the exhibition. 

The Affordable Art Fair is not what I want it to be or what the name suggests- it is no great equalizer, it is not art for the masses, and it most certainly is not affordable. For $47.23 to be able to attend the opening night on Thursday, or $29.63 for general admission ($26.53 for concessions), there’s something to be said for building a brand centred around affordability with such a high barrier for entry in the middle of a cost of living crisis. My second gripe with “affordable” is their version of it- under $10,000. Granted, a cursory look around places more canvases in the mid-thousands rather than the upper end, but it is still far more than most are able to part with on a stormy Friday afternoon. 

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 tenth 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.

A collaboration between Unassigned Gallery and Changing Room Gallery, SKETCHBOOK is ambitious, with this edition featuring over 40 artists. Lining the walls and multiple tables, the books run the gamut of artistic practice, stretching the limits of what a sketchbook is and can be. They are insights into how people see the world, and everything they encounter from the everyday to the imaginary. 

If anything, right now feels like a necessary moment for abstraction. It’s certainly the art I turn to time and again when I feel like I need something, anything to get lost in. We are grappling with a ruptured world- social media that goes from AI cat videos, to the destruction of Gaza, to the end stage capitalism of Labubus. None of it feels real or tangible or sensical. Abstraction has always emerged when the world ceased to be as knowable as it once was. Currently at SOL Gallery is Abstract Artists Never Sleep. Featuring 14 artists from the Hawthorn Artist Society, the group touts itself as an “untutored abstract art group.” Any exhibition blurb for an abstract show invariably contains some amalgamation of the words expressive, gesture, and dynamic - this one is no different. The best abstractions are the ones that draw you in and keep you looking, making you feel like if you just got a little bit closer, you’ll finally find exactly what you’ve been looking for. I connected deeply with some of the artists in a way I didn’t necessarily expect for a sunny afternoon in Fitzroy.