A time-based currency exchange, Tender explores publishing as a radical act of relation. A shareholding. Drawing language through thresholds of care, Tender is a thickness. A dividend. A Lure. We cannot say we publish this or that, only that we are published by our experience between and beyond. Tender seeks to expand new temporal horizons through sociality, collaboration and trade.
Opening both the field of enquiry and the means of producing the intrinsic rewards of its exchange, Tender is a relation. A fluctuating body of concern. Perhaps it is too easy to call it love, this participatory economy of dull ache and sponge. This queering of value. This moving towards. A waterfall made of trying.
In partnership with Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art Studio Residency Program (fall 2021) and Brisbane Writer’s Festival (2022), Tender gathers seven artists to join A.P.E. —an invitation to exchange, transform and multiply time: Jen Bervin (US), Nancy Kuhl (US), Fayen d’Evie (Aus), Catherine Evans (Aus/Ger), Ilana Halperin (US, Sco), Wendy Morrow (Aus) and Paul Mylechrane (Aus).
Erratic Ecologies (2019–)
- Erratic Ecologies Field Station
- Ruth Stephan Research Fellowship
- Babson’s Boulders, Dogtown Common
In this ongoing body of work, A Published Event are testing the possibilities of erratics beyond the geologies of glacially-transported boulders — those rocks that were carried by advancing glaciers and deposited away from their bedrock when the glacier recedes—and towards movement—a metaphysical condition; wandering, eccentric and queer.
Tracing the history and etymology of the word ‘erratic’, which comes from the Latin errare, to wander or stray, A Published Event find the first notation of the idea in the ‘erratyk’ stars of Chaucer’s 16th century poem Troylus and Cressida. Surging then through the erratic motion of the planets in Copernican astronomy and then into the geological record in Charpentier’s Terraine erratique of the Jura Mountains. Over time, the term ‘erratic’ has wandered and strayed through fields of astronomy, theology, cosmology, geology, glaciology, cardiology, psychology, literature and climatology. It is in this rich composite of knowledge and language that A Published Event field the concept of erraticology. A conglomerate, accessible beyond any one field.
Proposition: Erratic ecologies.
Question: How might one begin to field guide the erratic?Oct, 2019
Ruth Stephan Research Fellowship
Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library
New Haven, CT
This ‘field station’— is an apparatus for viewing and recording erratic activity, glacial movements and materialities of the body. It records the activities, experiences and feelings of A Published Event during their 31-day Ruth Stephan Research Fellowship at the Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library at Yale University, and associated fieldwork in the post-glacial landscapes of New England, USA.
During this research fellowship A Published Event developed an experimental approach to studying ‘erratics’, most commonly understood as ‘glacially transported boulders’ and investigated the origins of the word ‘erratic’, which comes from the Latin ‘errare’, to wander or stray. Through their research, A Published Event came to understand how this term, over time, has wandered through fields of astronomy, theology, cosmology, glaciology, cardiology, psychology, literature and climatology and has come to rest so firmly with geology.
The Erratic Ecologies Field Station, Or an emergent apparatus for speculative research (2019) is a tool or technique for developing a greater awareness and attuning to a given environment. Composed of a set of 62 unique field station cards, each card is an episode; a daily tool for attuning to archive, site, and the confused circulations of the body using languages of metallurgy, deep time and materiality. The accompanying blueprint traces A Published Event’s journey through the holdings of the Beinecke library and across the landscapes of Connecticut and Massachusetts shaped in the wake of the Wisconsin ice sheet some 18,000 years ago. The granite block was sourced from the Stony Creek quarry, in Branford Connecticut, famous for quarrying granite for iconic monuments and landmarks such as the Statue of Liberty. In this work the artists are asking, How might conditions of ‘erraticness’ call us to the present? And how might this calling prepare us to take action? This work is held in the collection of The Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University.
Erratic Ecologies Field Station, Or an emergent apparatus for speculative research (2019). Comprising sixty-two copper-foiled episodes, two lengths of solid copper bar, one block of quarried Stony Creek Granite, one archival blueprint. A Published Event. New Haven, CT. Edition of 3.
The Erratic Ecologies Field Station (2019) looks simple enough, but it also gives language to both the physical, linguistic and philosophical dimensions of our experience in Connecticut and is very much an emergent tool for speculative research. It offers the possibility of a new relational field that explores the erraticology of matter itself.
Whilst ‘striation’, names a glaciological term that refers to the scratches and marks left on rocks by the linear action of a glacier, indicating its direction and flow; our term, erraticology might come to name a far more complex and massive organism of deeply affected matter. When the artists talk about hardness, heft or specific gravity (geological terms that are used to describe rocks and minerals), they are re-claiming these qualities to articulate the physical and emotional materials of a more-than-human condition. What has become imperative to their work is to develop a shared language – what the architect Christopher Alexander would call a pattern language – that operates between these specialisations, enabling the erratic to expand experiences of the more-than-human.21 Oct, 2019
Visiting Scholars Seminars: Yale Center for British Art/ Lewis Walpole Library/ Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library
101 Wall Street
New Haven, CT
Erratic Ecologies: A Field Guide (a short talk by A Published Event)
We would like to acknowledge the Quinni-piac and Mashnatucket Pequot people, as the traditional custodians of the land on which we are meeting today, and upon which we are undertaking this body of research.
We (Justy Phillips & Margaret Woodward) are Visiting Fellows at the Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscripts Library, here as Ruth Stephan Fellows in the Yale Collection of American Literature at the Beinecke Library. Unexpectedly for us, the poet and publisher Ruth Stephan, has emerged as a constant presence during our time here – her ideas and influence we will return to in the latter part of our talk.
As artists, we make long-term relational artworks through shared acts of writing and public telling. Our work is fuelled by an interest in the everyday, chance encounters and constructed situations. One of our key primary sources in the Beinecke’s collection of American Literature is the archive of American artist and publisher now living in rural Ireland, Erica Van Horn. We are drawn to Van Horn’s quotidian observations of small matters – she is a master of chorography – a practice of acutely attending to a part rather than ‘geography’s’ broad sweep, whole.
Today, we would like to move you through one particular striation of our research, the visuals of which will run concurrently with our words.
We came to this research through a proposition of what we are calling, erratic ecologies and what it might mean to field guide the erratic. In this sense, we are testing the possibilities of erratics as; glacially-transported boulders – so, those rocks that were carried by advancing glaciers and deposited away from their bedrock when the glacier recedes; a movement, known as wandering, eccentric and queer; and a metaphysical condition, we are referring to as erraticness.
It is important to acknowledge that as artists, we have forged a very particular direction through the Beinecke’s holdings – a journey that has, in unequal measure, drawn us into a large number of folios, bookworks, maps, archives and a number of ‘errata’ – mistakes, omissions and absences – a publisher’s curse which also derive from the latin errare; compelling us to construct a mobile ‘field station’ to activate these findings; and drawn us into some of Connecticut’s most significant erratic boulder fields.
Since our first day in the Beinecke Library, we have recorded the physicality of our sensing bodies in the Reading Room, through the books we’ve touched, words shared – our fortitude, tenacity and appetite to move-with and through these holdings together. Like all researchers, we keep meticulous records but alongside these we also create other publishable events that enable us to record episodes, in real time, as they unfold. The first of these is titled, Erratic Ecologies Field Station. Composed of a set of unique Field Station cards; a 6 inch length of copper square bar to aid conduction; and a quarried block of Stony Creek Granite for support. This publishing should not be understood as a record of activity alone, but rather as a tool or technique for developing a greater awareness and attuning to a given environment. This is an ongoing practice.
Our Erratic field station looks simple enough, but its ability to give language to both the physical, linguistic and philosophical dimensions of our experience here should not be underestimated. Nor is it a ready-made device that we arrived here with, but was developed from scratch in response to our first seven days in the library. In this sense, it is very much an emergent tool for speculative research.
The transect we are presenting here is significant to us because it offers the possibility of a new relational field that explores the erraticology of matter itself. Whilst ‘striation’, names a glaciological term that refers to to the scratches and marks left on rocks by the linear action of a glacier, indicating it’s direction and flow; our term, erraticology might come to name a far more complex and massive organism of deeply affected matter. When we talk about hardness, heft or specific gravity (geolgical terms that are used to describe rocks and minerals), we are re-claiming these qualities to articulate the physical and emotional materials of our more-than-human condition. What our Beinecke fellowship has enabled is to begin to trace the history and etymology of the word ‘erratic’, which comes from the Latin errare, to wander or stray, and to better understand how it came to rest so firmly with geology. We can now see how this term, over time, has wandered and strayed through fields of astronomy, theology, cosmology, geology, glaciology, cardiology, psychology, literature and climatology. It is in this rich composite of knowledge and language that we are fielding our concept of erraticology. A kind of conglomerate that is accessible beyond any one field. What has become imperative to our work is to develop a shared language – what the architect Christopher Alexander would call a pattern language – that operates between these specialisations, enabling the erratic to expand our experiences of the more-than-human.
In our fieldwork – speculative encounters with books, rocks, fractures, language and people – we practice this verb to ‘field’ as a kind of in-gathering with one’s body, a way of bringing into relation, ideas, objects and experiences, within reach of the sensing body. The collaboration of our sensing bodies includes a 40% loss of hearing in one and a 40% loss of heart function in the other. Because of this we are acutely aware of erratic episodes, sonic, cardiac, or otherwise. For us, any process of field guiding is inherently imbued with frictions and fictions of the erratic. To work this relational field is to focus intensely on what lies between. Between gravel and boulder, block and behemoth. Fieldwork is itself an erratic activity – a deliberate and intentional strategy to shift context, build new relations and attend to a material awareness of place. It allows one to be both in and out of place at the same time.
The Field Station itself draws into relation the seven technical characteristics of minerals; running from Habit on the left to Lustre on the right. Yet within these fields, a fluidity of language enables us to infiltrate these broad geological strokes with movements between the body, glaciology and deep time. Terms such as ablate, quiesce, surge and pluck span both human and glacial organisms. This Field Station enables each of us to record, in any one day, how we ‘feel’ and ‘field’ new knowledge in and through our bodies. This is an ongoing record we have been making for each day of our fellowship. For me, whose heart condition is constantly emitting curious signals, ‘lustre’ is often experienced as ‘dizziness’ and ‘Heft’ as ‘chest discomfort or pressure’. For Margaret, prospecting the library, is a process of attuning to the curious signals of attraction emitted by a particular material. Both episodes might insight a rapid pounding or fluttering of the heart.
Given the extraordinary array of material we have accessed in the last three weeks, we find ourselves thrust into the terrain, inhuman geographer Kathryn Yusoff names as ‘corporeal geology’. For us, an erraticology of matter seems compelled to begin in the corporeal geology of the heart. It is what we might call, an apprehending of heart matter. The concept that the heart also has a brain – thought to have extensive sensory capacities and able to act independently of the cranial brain has been widely researched at the Institute of HeartMath, in California. What excites us about the direction of our research is that it allows us to draw language through the physicality of body. For us, this digesting takes form through writing and the subsequent manouvering of this physical language through publishing, that is, the act of making public. As a process of research-creation, we always publish as we go.
I sat with a boulder on my lap.
Around its dim girth my arms strained to strap
It securely and steady its sway.
I hugged the cold weight like a long denied bride,
I laid my forehead against its rude side
And slept. Then it melted away.
[Ruth Stephan, Prelude to Poetry. Editorial Lumen. Lima Peru.]
A.P.E.—Justy Phillips & Margaret Woodward, October 2019.
You can read more about our activities as Ruth Stephan Fellows in New Scholarship at Beinecke – Erratic Ecologies Field Station, an article by Nancy Kuhl, poet and Curator of Poetry for the Yale Collection of American Literature at the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale University.2 Oct, 2019
During the Great Depression Roger Babson (1875–1967) commissioned unemployed Finnish Stonecutters to carve inspirational words into large glacial erratic boulders strewn across an area of Dogtown Common, Massachusetts. Babson was a businessman, notable for predicting the Wall Street crash, referred to his commissioning of these inscriptions as “writing my final and permanent book.” Strangely portentous and relevant for current economic and global circumstances, this work holds the friction of human and geological bodies, and brings into question languages and ‘publications’ that bridge human and lithic bodies. This field of 36 carved glacial erratic boulders, now covered by woodland, is commonly known as ‘Babson’s Boulders’.
Pages from Roger W. Babson’s Final and Permanent Book published on Dogtown Common, Massachusetts (2019) form Series 16 of the distributed artwork, Room 26 Discrete Notions Exhibition Series curated by poet Nancy Kuhl. This set of five postcards pays homage to Babson’s boulders, a field of hand-carved erratic boulders on Dogtown Common, Massachusetts. This series is a collaboration between Margaret Woodward, who photographed the boulders during her Ruth Stephan Research fellowship at The Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale University and Nancy Kuhl, curator of poetry at the Beinecke.
Room 26 Discrete Notions Exhibition series 16 #2. Five x stamped and addressed digitally printed postcards. Dimensions: 110mmx 140mm. Nancy Kuhl and Margaret Woodward. 2020.
KINDNESS (2019) by Jen Bervin and A Published Event was made during the same field trip by the artists to Babson’s Boulders in Fall 2019.
Lost Rocks (2017–21)
- Forty three fictiōnellas
- Field Library (Deluxe Edition)
- Seam IX
- Seam VIII
- Seam VII
- Seam VI
- Seam V
- Seam IV
- Seam III
- Seam II
- Seam I
An accumulative event of mineralogical, metaphysical and metallurgical telling, Lost Rocks (2017–21) is a unique library of forty three books composed by forty five contemporary artists from around the world. Part artwork, part curatorial platform and part experiment in publishing as art practice. Increments of absence. This life that is all at once. Love. Grief. Relation.2017–21
Lost Rocks (2017–21)
In March 2016, A Published Event launched their five-year, slow-publishing collaboration Lost Rocks (2017–21) – an accumulative event of mineralogical, metaphysical and metallurgical telling.
Part artwork, part curatorial platform and part experiment in publishing as art practice, Lost Rocks (2017–21) articulates a library of forty three fictiōnellas composed by forty five contemporary artists from around the world.
At the conceptual heart of this ambitious project sits a discarded geological specimen display board, found by A Published Event at the Glenorchy Tip shop in the northern suburbs of Hobart, Tasmania. Forty of its fifty-six rocks are missing. At once, the rock board is both a decomposing geological taxonomy and a proposition for new mineralogical recomposings of body, duration and event. This artwork seeks to replace the missing rocks, not with geological specimens, but ‘fictionellas’ – processual ‘telling events’ of mineralogical, metaphysical and metallurgical telling.
In Lost Rocks (2017–21), it is the material metamorphosis of absence that enlivens the library to its public. Not forgetting that the rock board itself is already a published work and has a public of its own, including amongst others, the person who compiled it, perhaps as a study aid; the salvage workers who saved it from the tip face; the 45 contemporary artists who attempt to re-compose it.
Despite its small size, the geological diversity of lutruwita/Tasmania is quite remarkable. Present in abundance are mineral deposits and rocks from every period of the Earth’s Middle Proterozoic era, a period that began over 2.5 billings years ago. As the first continents appeared so did the first fossils of living organisms.
Commissioned artists: Margaret Woodward (TAS), Justy Phillips (TAS), Jane Rendell (UK), Sarah Jones (TAS), Ross Gibson (AUS), Ben Walter (TAS), Ally Bisshop (Ger), Greg Lehman (TAS), James Newitt (TAS), Therese Keogh (AUS), Mary Scott (TAS), Rory Wray McCann (TAS) Julie Gough (TAS), Tine Melzer/ Markus Kummer (Sui), Raymond Arnold (TAS), Jerry de Gryse (TAS), Trygve Luktvasslimo (Nor), Lucy Bleach (TAS), Wendy Morrow (TAS), Ruth Hadlow (TAS), Louisa King & Jo Kinneburgh (NSW), Shevaun Cooley (WA), Perdita Phillips (WA), Tricky Walsh (TAS), Lyndal Jones (VIC), Bianca Hester (NSW), Catherine Evans (Aus/Ger), Caroline Loewen (Can), Helena Demczuk (TAS), Nancy Kuhl (US), Robin Banks (TAS), Erica Van Horn (US/ IRE), Ilana Halperin (UK), Jen Bervin (US), Loren Kronemeyer (TAS), Chris Henschke (VIC), Sofie Burgoyne (TAS), Katie Stackhouse (VIC), Polly Stanton (VIC), Siddharth Pandey (Ind) and Dominique Chen (QLD) & Tom Blake (NSW).
The Lost Rocks (2017–21) fictiōnellas are gestures, small movements that shift the axis just enough to feel it move but not enough to notice it moving. They are not, as so much of contemporary art practice aspires to be, spectacular. The works are soft and deep and raw and sharp, much like the rocks that did or did not come before them. A pulping of lithic love no less.
Whilst maintaining a strict conceptual framework to the Lost Rocks (2017–21) fictiōnellas (all content should be drawn from lived experience), a consistent design style and production format; we allow the library itself (its holdings) to be punctuated by intrusions.
In geological terms, an intrusion manifests as an inward burst, magma that cools and solidifies within the Earth’s crust. In the library, we explore intrusions as events that erupt and interrupt – between the writing of the rocks – creating new flows and relations between rocks, minerals, authors and readers. So far these intrusions have taken the form of live readings, curatorial residencies, installations of drawings, video and sculpture, lithic poetry salons and perhaps most intriguing of all, in the gifting of minerals and rocks. In a way, these intrusions become the new bedrock – the new caneite board, and in doing so, become a way of holding context and materiality as one. An attempt to gain a bearing, to crystallise a voice.
This ambitious work is funded through crowdfunding, book sales, library subscriptions and over its six year duration, a number of competitive arts grants. This project has been assisted by the Australian Government through the Australia Council, its arts funding and advisory body. This activity was assisted through Arts Tasmania.2021
Lost Rocks (2017–21)
Deluxe Edition Field Library
Limited Edition / 12
Published in a limited edition of twelve the Lost Rocks (2017–21) Deluxe Edition Field Library comprises: A complete set of forty three Lost Rocks (2017–21) fictiõnellas; two cuts of stichtite serpentine; two blocks of rare Tasmanian timber; one copper-etched plate; assorted postcards; field library case in hand-made in Tasmanian oak and Huon pine by designer/maker Linda Fredheim; including fixtures of brass, stainless steel, plastic and felt; signed edition certificate.24–28 Feb, 2021
Fossil. Fossil. Fossil. Copper. Silver. Granite.
Online, the world.
Lost Rocks (2017–21) Seam IX was launched on the occasion of the inaugural Printed Matter Virtual Art Book Fair. Hosted online due to pandemic restrictions, in 2021 Printed Matter, the New York-based art book specialist migrated their New York and LA Art Book Fairs into one spectacular online event. Since 2005, Printed Matter’s Art Book Fairs have hosted international exhibitors featuring a wide variety of works—from zines and artists’ books to rare and out of print publications, and contemporary art editions. This new Fair expanded upon the rich tradition of our long running Art Book Fairs, including over 400 exhibitors from 43 countries, with online programs, performances, games, and more.
The PMVABF invited audiences to browse, buy, participate and converse with hundreds of artists through a system of dedicated websites, constructed for the occasion of fair. It was in this unchartered territory that we launched Lost Rocks (2017–21) Seam IX: Fossil by Ilana Halperin (US/ Sco), Fossil by Erica Van Horn (US, Ire), Fossil by Robin Banks (Aus), Copper by Loren Kronemyer (Aus), Silver by Jen Bervin and Granite by Nancy Kuhl (US).
Through A Published Event’s PMVABF Lost Rocks (2017–21) project site, we hosted a number of readings, conversations and interviews by our Seam IX artists. Here is a selection of those publishings, generously created by collaborating artists and produced by A Published Event.
Nancy Kuhl (US) reads an extract of her fictiōnella, Granite for Lost Rocks (2017–21) by A Published Event. 2021.
Erica Van Horn reads an extract from her fictiōnella, Fossil Lost Rocks (2017–21) by A Published Event. 2021.
Epoch Wars Manifesto by Pony Express. Loren Kronemyer, Copper Lost Rocks (2017–21) by A Published Event. 2021.
Ilana Halperin, Fossil, 2021 and Justy Phillips (A Published Event) in conversation on grief and other losses. A Published Event.
Robin Banks reading from her fictiōnella, Fossil (2021). Filmed with Izzy von Lichtan, curator, Rock Library and Geological Museum, University of Tasmania. A Published Event. 2021.27–28 Aug, 2020
Copper. Granite. Red Sandstone.
Listening in the Anthropocene Symposium.
Online, the world.
Lost Rocks (2017–21) Seam VIII launched online as part of Listening in the Anthropocene, Exhibition + Symposium, hosted by Charles Sturt University. Seam VIII artists and rocks featured; Granite by Helena Demczuk (Aus), Red Sandstone by Caroline Leowen (Can) and Copper by Catherine Evans (Aus/ Ger). You can access the video recording of Lost Rocks (2017–21) Seam VIII here.
Included in the video recording are these two readings from Berlin-based Australian artist Catherine Evans and her fictiōnella, Copper.
Catherine Evans, reading an extract (I) from her fictiōnella, Copper for Lost Rocks (2017–21) by A Published Event.12 June, 2020
Stalactite. Sandstone. Granite. Copper.
Online, the world.
Lost Rocks (2017–21) Seam VII was launched online launch via Zoom on the 12th of June 2020. The event is presented in partnership with Negative Press, Melbourne.
Listen to artists Bianca Hester (Sandstone), Lyndal Jones (Granite) and Tricky Walsh (Stalactite) discuss their slow-publishing fictiōnellas with A Published Event co-founder Margaret Woodward. The event is generously convened by Dr. Laura Harper, Monash University, Melbourne. A Published Event 2020.2019
Marble. Granite. Fossil.
Boston Art Book Fair
Boston Center for the Arts
539 Tremont St, Boston
The launch of Lost Rocks (2017–21), Seam (VI): Fossil by Perdita Phillips (Aus), Granite by poet Shevaun Cooley (Aus) and Marble by artists Louisa King (Aus) and Jo Paterson Kinniburgh (NZ/Aus) took place in Europe across A Published Event’s participation in two great art book fairs. First came the Boston Art Book Fair, 2019, followed weeks later by the Small Publisher’s Fair at Conway Hall in London.8.03.19
Rhyolite. Fossil. Mudstone. Granite.
Victoria Gunpowder Magazine
The occasion of Fossil Performance by Wendy Morrow (soundscape by Leigh Hobba with technical assistance by Dylan Sheridan) celebrates the launch of Lost Rocks (2017–21), Seam (V): Rhyolite by artist Lucy Bleach (Aus), Granite by artist Ruth Hadlow (Aus), Mudstone by artist and film maker Trygve Luktvasslimo (Nor) and Fossil by dancer Wendy Morrow (Aus).
I only know what I saw. That night in the dark. Residues of gunpowder. Labour hard felt. Lime wash. Woodworm. Soft blue light in the rafters.
She had already washed the floor but I didn’t see any of that, only the aftermath that started on the floor and crept ever so slowly through the walls beyond the oak lining and all the way to the white brick line. For the photographer, who scornfully berated the building for some time later, this line was not a line but a devision of equity. Of light and dark. It, standing out like the invasive beacon it was. When the palawa were murdered in their thousands. The light, she said, out there (gesturing far beyond the copper lined door) would never reach such heights nor depths in the lands this Magazine was built to protect. One kilometre. Two kilometres beyond the ground line. It’s just like the great king Osiris said, ‘Water darkens everything’.
Earlier in the week, two biologists took to the floor for the Friends of the Tasmanian Museum & Art Gallery. Molluscs and soft bodied corals filled the room in all the muted colours of a world full of black out there and far below. Not so far south from here, the deep sea coral reefs of the Continental Shelf, flank the edges of vast seamounts. Invisible mountains with names like Pedra and St Helens. In my childhood in the north of England, St Helens was a rough industrial city. Hard to imagine its slopes flooded with soft corals tethering water to rock, the likes of which were on show in the Royal Society room this week. And urchins that feed directly from the water column by elongating their spiky bodies upwards upwards. Beyond this mass of black water.
As the body slowly slowly moves with the gestures of fossil’s making, it begins to absorb its own column of softly folding air, begins to collect the small piles of woodworm dust that before this movement, collected only where beams and posts touch floor. It is not the artist who moves, but the shadows of her othering, the saturating sinkholes, the years of muscle memory – the lines of words and thinking, always repeating from the core. This is how she writes her moves. How her moves re-compose the space.
For many of the audience, this is their first time in this extraordinary Gunpowder Magazine. Built in 1853 by convict labour, a significant feature of this Battery was a Hot Shoe Oven in which the balls were heated to red hot before being loaded and fired at wooden vessels. The vaulted brick ceiling was laid without mortar so that it, rather than the entire building should be blown clean off, in the case of accidental incendiary explosion.
FOSSIL performance, an exquisite opening of the space, of the seam, of Granite, Rhyolite, and Mudstone amongst it’s delicate layering of life and death, a synchronicity of rocks that never touched. Before. In the artist’s words, a penetralia of sorts; ‘the innermost secret parts and recesses; to go within, between rock and body, mysteries and doubt.’ (Morrow)19–21 Oct, 2018
Copper. Copper. Lead Sulphide. Mudstone. Shale.
746708.03.18 – 29.03.18
Petrified Wood. Fossil. Petrified Wood.
The Barn at Rosny Farm
Rosny Hill Road
Margaret saw the stumps of Huon Pine and I asked if we could rent them. Huon Pine $40 NOT DRY. HUON PINE $95 NOT DRY. HUON PINE $95 NOT DRY
She was the one who thought they might be good things to own, if only for a month on the Eastern Shore. Good beings for you to confide in perhaps, whilst in the presence of other petrifying, fossilising schisms. In the back room of a well known furniture showroom down the Channel, planks of rare and hard to find Tasmanian timber are stacked like well thumbed books along the length of each wall. Three felled torsos decapitated on the floor. In black marker pen their pitiful price is instantly reduced when the owner agrees to buy them back for half their value at the end of the show.
Heading down the Outlet, the three of them begin to suck the sunlight from our car, these half-price-three-thousand-rings-on-the-small-one-perhaps logs start to seep our cheapening souls. Start to fill us with cycles of a life we’ll never see. Stop it. All we care about is the price. And the fact that they are still, after all these years, not dry. Not dry enough for a kitchen bench top. A peanut bowl. A left handed salad server. All we care about is the price and their torso smell. Their slowly-slowly making-public smell.
You must be standing in the forest now, perhaps decapitated too. Grounded in the roots of an ancient tree. Scott drew that one from a 19th century book owned by her grandfather, Eric Oswald Scott. A ‘fish man’. Or ichthyologist. His grandfather, Herbert Hedley Scott was a Palaeoxylologist – a wood man. In Petrified Wood, Scott meticulously traces the wise shape of Herbert Hedley, cleft in the roots of trees and other earthly matters. Here in the gallery, in graphite on untreated Ply, an image of a dis-assembled Oak. Limbs akimbo. Breaking down. Scott’s drawing suggests another technique for caring for the-lack-of-care. For as she writes to Herbert Hedley, ‘No one listens to the trees anymore’ (Scott 2018). Opposite Scott grinds cement dust or is it fossil casts.
Most likely, your soul’s been hijacked too.
Splinters axe the room from corner to corner. Facets of light split the screen. Split the logs. Leach the years before and after us. I’ve read Keogh’s Petrified Wood, hauling ancient logs up from the well. Her wax cast faceting of an underground marking surface hides the deepings of lost knowledge far below. In her fragmented gestures, Keogh scribes seven thousand years in the blackness of dark water.
‘Thousands of triangles were arranged in the shape of the timber beam made up of an expansive tetrahedral mesh, the digital plank was formed like crystalline structures. A singular dynamic movement wasn’t captured in a surface, but entered into a system of inertia through the untimely accretion of digital data. No single triangle came first. Instead, they co-emerged within a sprawling terrain.’
Her words flow ceilings into dust, split the concentric hearts of others.
Wide open. Mother and son. Lie side by side in polished vitrines. Or do I mean latrine. A communal toilet where two halves of a brain struggle to strike each other clean. All this in close proximity of Keogh’s hand-made adze. The Newitt’s are here together, appearing as concentric forms. Fistfuls of clay and a pointing finger are all that’s left to stop the weight of all this paper. Balls of perishing held in crisp white vitrines.
I try to calculate the cost in years of living organism. $40 for a 3ft length of someone else’s torso. I estimate one thousand years, thirteen thousand five hundred and eighteen turnings of the moon. And back again, Still. Not dry.
High in the rafters Scott writes a mirror, so we can all see what we choose to see in this reflection of communal perishing. Newitt has clearly been here before. In Fossil (2018);
We’re very sorry …
The disconnection of standing next to myself, hearing the anguish, so sorry, in my voice while feeling a deep sense of relief bubble in my chest. Almost joy. Being shocked at how bad I am at pretending grief. Thinking about breakfast. Wondering if I could do eggs.
– ready for you
Turned on a lathe perhaps, Scott’s grove of ready-mades. Weapon-like, decorative, salvaged tools that could have cut the the wood that Keogh’s spent months hauling out of the well. Could have carved and stitched the wound that his mother absorbed as the waters rose and blackened around her.
Large drawings of rings within rings give way to softer observations.
© A Published Event 2018.02 Sep, 2018.
Basalt. Conglomerate. Marble. Crystal Bone.
The Piano Bar, Etties
100 Elizabeth Street
‘In the room, we’d like to welcome to Basalt (Ross Gibson), Conglomerate (Ben Walter), Marble (Ally Bissop), Crystal Bone (Greg Lehman).’ Lost Rocks (2017–21) Seam II, Basalt. Conglomerate. Marble. Crystal Bone. was a feast for the ears during a subscriber-only event held at Etties Paino Bar in nipaluna/ Hobart. Readings from Ross Gibson, Ben Walter and Greg Lehman. Cocktails and conversation into the night.18–26 March, 2017
Crocoite. Crocoite. Silver. Silver/Lead.
Sites of Love and Neglect.
Ten Days on the Island Festival
West Coast Heritage Centre
114 Main St
A female mannequin in steel-grey overalls and wide smile wears yellow rubber gloves. Hands resting on hips, her safety helmet (has clearly taken a knock or two) suggests the need for vigilance. And feeling. Where the weight of words might fall. Might injure. Might turn living, breathing life into inanimate beings that populate museums just like this one. We move in unison to a central room filled on every wall with books and rocks and bits of equipment that measure and weigh. Assay.
Dressed in black and flattened oyster shell, Crocoite opens her mouth. Speaks slowly through the ologies of her life. The rocks do not move. The minerals stay in orderly lines. One after the other. Beneath the safety glass. She reads.
We follow her into the World Class Mineral Room, filing past, one by one, the giant replica gold nugget.
Encased in a brass-lined mineral display case are the rarest specimens of red-lead clusters. Shards of crystaline crocoite illuminate her books. She reads in swathes of red, divining rivers and fathers and men who cut tracks and fight in wars and die in seas. A prospecting of relations.
We walk again. This time, over lush green grass and blistering light to the Underground Mine Simulation, that’s cleverly built above the ground from red brick and timber. Inside, every surface beyond the dirt floor has been blasted with shotcrete.
Silver/ Lead speaks softly but with conviction from the start. Paints the cosmos with ink and water onto a giant screen that absorbs her voice into its porous skin and fills the parched cells of every living thing beneath this earth.
Thirteen seconds from the end, she takes a spade and cuts in two, an earthworm. The mantle breaks. Opens. Swallows.
Another cut. In the Power House, Urs Fischer’s, You gouges a massive hole in the floor of a New York gallery. Something about grains of sand falling from a woman’s shoe and the sedimenting cutting of a hole that is alive. A hole that beats with a heart and a car stereo speaks Crocoite through a set of home-made speakers.
Walking again, snaking over the green green grass and up the concrete ramp. The Court House, basks like a sun fish in the great yellow light of an Indian summer. A drama for eight players. Scene 3. I am the RepRisk Analyst, perform my lines alongside Silver’s CEO, Police Prosecutor and Philosopher (makes a late but dignified entry).
The audience ask questions and the sun starts to shy away. Now we are all touched, or maybe tainted. The court room jaundiced in the dying light. We head to the Cecil for Riccadona and Jimmy Barnes.
Four distributed events by Crocoite: Margaret Woodward (AUS) in the World Class Minerals Room, Crocoite: Justy Phillips (AUS) in the Power House, Silver: Jane Rendell (UK) in the Court House and Silver/Lead: Sarah Jones (AUS) in the Underground Mine Simulation at the Zeehan School of Mines and Metallurgy, as part of Sites of Love & Neglect, curated by Jane Deeth for Ten Days on the Island 2017.
These site-specific events are each expanded from the artists’ four fictiōnellas, part of Lost Rocks, (2017–2021). Hobart: A Published Event – and take the form of sound, video, object and live performance. The work is open from Saturday 18th March – Sunday 26th March 10am–4:30pm daily (114 Main Street, Zeehan). There will be live readings on Saturday 18th March, 4:30pm, 5:00pm and 5:30pm.
The People’s Library (2017–18)
- Open Call
- The books
- Readers in Residence
In September 2017, in the midst of Petrified Wood. Fossil. Petrified Wood, our second Lost Rocks (2017–17) seam, we launched The People’s Library. An island-wide call to publish new books in any genre.
Tethered in everyday acts of writing and reading, The People’s Library is a collective act of public telling. An invitation to swell a ground, to spill it through ear
and eye and mouth. Part performance library, part contemporary artwork, in 2018, The People’s Library published 113 newly commissioned, original book-length
works by Tasmanian writers. Through a state-wide call for unpublished works in any genre, the writers of The People’s Library share fiction, memoir, biography, non-
fiction, history, crime, science fiction, thriller, poetry, plays and experimental other. For writer or public, The People’s Library created an opportunity to leave a trace, locate a life or sweep a narrative within a unique living library.
In 2011, the Tasmanian woodchip industry fell. The now infamous demise of the private forestry company, Gunns Ltd saw the closure of the state’s only operating woodchip processing and export facility, located at Spring Bay, Triabunna. Ever since our visit to Iceland in 2012, two things had continued to play on our minds. One, how
was it possible that so many Icelandic people, from all walks of life, found a way to publish their literary works? And two, it’s an odd thing that a country with so few
trees (vast forests were felled by the Vikings) finds itself today, so heavily planted with books. For us, the book begins in absence, in the surface of lost trees. In the sap,
in the rings, in the days and nights. In the fires that rage. In the chains that clear fell all the rare things that once were sheltered in the darkness of this horizontal green.
We are what we hold.
For us, the book begins in absence, in the surface of lost trees. In the sap. In the rings. In the days and nights. In the fires that rage. In the chains that fell all the rare things that once were sheltered in the darkness of this horizontal green.2017
We launched The People’s Library in late 2017, with the invitation, ‘Amateur or professional, we are actively seeking contributions from those who write for leisure, pleasure or necessity’.
‘Tethered in everyday acts of writing, reading and telling, The People’s Library is an invitation to write an original book-length work in any genre. Part performance library, part contemporary artwork, The People’s Library will publish one hundred and twenty three books – unpublished works of fiction, memoir, science fiction, biography, non-fiction, history, crime, thriller, poetry, plays and experimental other.
An opportunity to leave a trace, locate a life or sweep a narrative arc within a living library, The People’s Library is a supported publishing opportunity which invites its writers to contribute to a unique, collective artwork to be installed at Salamanca Arts Centre, Hobart in 2018, creating a movement of public tellings – book groups, live readings, salon events and lending library. A groundswell of histories, cultures and experience awaits.
By New Year’s Day, 2018, over 170 people felt compelled to submit an expression of interest to The People’s Library along with sample pages of their writing, and 123 were selected to write book-length manuscripts – of these we received and published 113.2018
113 printed books
Each in an edition of /10
The 113 books of The People’s Library are catalogued both by colour and the sequence of their acquisition. The colour assigned to each book corresponds to the 110 colour tints of Werner’s Nomenclature of Colours: Adapted to Zoology, Botany, Chemistry, Mineralogy, Anatomy, and the Arts by P. Syme.
Werner’s nomenclature corresponds with poetic lyricism and scientific precision to the most commonly occurring colours of the ‘natural’ world. Published in 1814 by eminent Prussian mineralogist and geologist Abraham Gottlob Werner, the palette was later adapted by Scottish flower painter and art teacher, Patrick Syme (1774–1845) to include additional colours observed in animal and vegetable realms.
Werner’s Nomenclature of Colours quickly became the go to companion for artists and scientists charged with classifying and cataloguing the colonies. This is the book Charles Darwin used to describe the colours he observed on his HMS Beagle voyages (1831–36). On this voyage Darwin visited Hobart Town in 1836, where he was certainly accompanied by the Werner/Syme colour book on his walks around Sullivan’s Cove, the future site of the sandstone warehouse that now houses the Salamanca Arts Centre. In Darwin’s journals from the HMS Beagle voyage, the use of Werner’s colours is well documented, including the snake he found in 1835, described as ‘Primrose yellow’ (Colour Number 63).
The process of recording the material world of lutruwita/Tasmania through European-tinted lenses was by now, well underway – the legacy of which persists as a deeply entrenched system of naming that continues to prioritise the European view. Werner’s toolkit is an inventory of a European world. In Tasmania it was used as a device to make sense of and impose a familiar order on an unfamiliar place.
Our decision to furnish The People’s Library with Werner’s colour palette might be seen as yet another extension of the European impulse to catalogue and impose. And it is. It’s a deliberate strategy to recognise that this guidebook, this portable landscape that accompanied scientists, artists and colonists, is freighted with its own narratives and hierarchies of a nonhuman world: 24 Scotch blue; 40 Imperial purple; 48 Leek green; 76 Dutch orange; 95 Cochineal Red; 27 China Blue.
By way of turning our bodies away from these dominant histories and towards each other, towards ‘other material forms, or immaterial apparitions’, we add our own ecology to this weighty inventory of colour. At first we see if its possible to meet the demands of this ecology by using Werner’s naming conventions.
We decide to disrupt Werner’s system by inscribing three new entries on the colour register, named through our research in the material sites of The People’s Library. Returning us to the centre of all this growth is book 111, Repeat Pattern by Tracey Diggins. This free-verse poetry from the core is held in place by Defunct Board, colour matched to the Burgundy upholstery fabric of the boardroom chairs from the now defunct Triabunna Woodchip Mill. Swatch 112, Paintings in my Mind, a book by Queenstown poet Leo Deacon finds its tint in the touch of Bulky Paperback. Swatch 113 inscribes the library’s final acquisition, Memoirs of a Travelling Sheila. Written by Dunally artist Gay Hawkes, a bookend of Modified Timber inspired by the Long Gallery’s pre-colonial timber beams.8–30 Sept, 2018
‘Tell us your interests, needs and desires and we shall find you a book. One in the hand for each who shall enter’.
Salamanca Arts Centre
Like breadcrumbs on a forest floor, these words inscribed on the gallery’s long white entry wall, are perhaps both map and calling. Inside, the storehouse is sliced in two. From snow white to eucalypt blue, a double- sided arc of books holds one convict-built wall from another. A 16m long bookshelf – diagonal severing of spectral flow. Oriented Strata Board spills from beneath the covers. Crosses the floor in fits and starts. A cabin for reading built from a compacted forest of giant woodchips.
This is where I take myself, take the book I was handed on arrival. Styx and Stones sits side by side on a spine-deep ledge with Peopling The Dirt Patch. Imperial Purple bruising Honey Yellow in the fray. There’s a hexagonal stage. I overhear another visitor say that’s where they used to roll the logs before grading and chipping them into pulp. A hard stand they call it. On the south side of the library there’s a table for reading and 11 boardroom chairs. To the right, complimentary tea and coffee served in hand-built ceramic vessels imprinted trees. Cut from tongues. Beanbags cluster like leaf litter beneath the gallery’s sunlit windows. I take a seat, it’s less comfortable than it looks. Woodchips, it turns out, aren’t the softest filling. I slump into the forest and read and read and read.
The collective holdings of The People’s Library compel us to find new ways of holding these books and their writers in our care. Our hold is both intimate and encompassing. The library as a living organism is always bigger than the sum of its holdings. And we are all enlarged by it, knowing that assemblages of books, objects, events, ideas, materials and conversations held in close proximity behave differently than those kept alone. We make libraries because we crave proximity. In the words of artist Brandon LaBelle, ‘I speak in order to locate myself near you.’8–30 Sept, 2018
Salamanca Arts Centre
lutruwita (Tasmania)8–30 Sept, 2018
Salamanca Arts Centre
In the Ancient Library of Alexandria, Egypt, founded circa 295BC, the Ptolemies attempted to assemble in one place, the knowledge of the ‘known’ world. They sought to collect, buy, steal, copy, cheat or otherwise acquire a copy of every book in existence, to ‘create a hub for research, learning and cultural exchange’1. And then they invented a way to digest that knowledge, to distribute and share it. In The People’s Library we have made a curious digesting creature of our own. We gave it a name and prodded it all over to see what it might choose to reveal. About this place, it’s people, languages, absences and imaginations. We excluded no one. Only things that were for one reason or another, too difficult to hold.
Inviting celebrated scholars from many countries (including Euclid and Archimedes) to take up residence in the library, the Ptolemies paid them a handsome retainer and asked no more of them in exchange than that they use the libraries resources. We decided to establish a Readers in Residence program of our own. We commissioned three artists: Ross Gibson + Kathryn Bird (NSW); Fayen d’Evie (VIC) and Unconscious Collective (TAS). We asked them to be curious. To use their bodies, hearts, souls to ‘read’ this strange performance library.
Perhaps at the bottom of it all, we wanted to ask: How might we (authors, readers, feelings shared in the company of others) hold in the palm of our hands, intimate gestures of a place and time known only by those who have come to live them? Come to hold a life just long enough to record it? To suture it?
Fall of the Derwent (2014–16)
- Fall, now a river.
- A river settles its own cairns underwater
Fall of the Derwent (2015–16), is an experiment in hydrographic publishing by artists Justy Phillips and Margaret Woodward, commissioned and presented by GASP (Glenorchy Art & Sculpture Park) Tasmania, as part of Swimmable: Reading the River.
In their ambitious hydrographic score, Fall of the Derwent (2016), Phillips and Woodward draw from the river(s) Derwent, a living organism that re-composes with every reading. Generated in response to the current Energy in Storage Levels of the River Derwent, each hydrographic score is completely unique. You can download your score here. An invitation to move-with a marking, cutting, flooding deluge in the making.
Through a year-long process of research-creation that included in-depth archival research, walking, writing, making, recording and publishing, the artists entered into relation-with the river as living event. Over two recent summers, the artists walk from the sea to the source of two Rivers Derwent. First, they walk from Workington to Borrowdale (UK) and then from Blackmans Bay to leeawuleena (Tasmania). They encounter more than one namesake. And then comes the fall. Fall of the Derwent is an actual, mythical event in the making–already made felt. A moving blackwards. No less.26 Nov, 2016
Glenorchy Art & Sculpture Park
Elwick Bay Foreshore
In Fall, now a river. Now a leech. Now a hook on a line on a rod on the arms of a man who walks with the night in a sweat-stained cornflower collar. Black lipped. Tight lipped. Union is strength, Phillips and Woodward invite a site-specific publishing of their ambitious hydrographic score, Fall of the Derwent (26 November, 2016). Made public with one hundred hand-to-hand publishers, this reading score is a marking, cutting, flooding deluge in the making. Each line, released through the current Energy in Storage Levels of the River Derwent. It is a call to move-with the river of life. An actual, mythical event in the making–already made felt. A moving blackwards. No less.
Readers: Cullen Butters, Jerry de Gryse, Ruth Hadlow, Sarah Jones, Clare Larman, Justy Phillips, Colin Maier, Amanda Robson, Margaret Woodward.
With black in hand, the readers stand. Some of them lean as the concrete shimmers. Others scan the crowd for a flicker. A shifting eye. A presence of something so slight. Yet leaking.
Clinging to their skin, a blanket of tree dust. The dying atoms of tree flesh and tree roots and tree leaves that once were green and ochre. Some of them purposefully spread the little black atoms up their arms. Touching now and then, the sweet spots of the neck. Brush hair from a fringe. Rub their fingers against the smooth of their lips and let the black just sit there. Some might call it an attractor to a river. A magnet that calls her glassy silver spine up and into their liver. Until they lick it clean. The black. Let the tree fall deep and fast into their chest. Let the dust settle.
I’ve had my eye on a teenage reader. Slumped against the glass that’s pink and shattered. He is different to the others, tries in vain to stop the blackness from feeding his palms. With his eyes he draws a line across his wrist and then tries really hard not to break it. He can’t see the small black mark on the side of his face that’s about to bite him hard.
The black’s unruly. That’s the problem as far as I can see. And I’m just an innocent bystander. I look at my hands. Now I’m the one who’s staring.
It’s just after sunrise on the Alum Cliffs. A pacific gull splayed upside down in the pit of a broken tree. Should have taken more care.
Her telltale red-tipped bill bleeds orange into the great yellow disk of the sun. All these years of life’s tethering. Osiris, god of the dead, whispers, inside our salty breath, water darkens everything.
I can’t quite work out what’s going on. But one of the readers comes and stands alongside. Opens a small black book and starts to read aloud. It’s funny, at first it’s not their voice that I can hear but I watch intently, their silvery lips moving up and down the river. The sound is coming from behind and to the right. It’s a woman. An older woman’s voice. And now there are people laughing. Amongst themselves. And others listen. But the man at my side does not leave me. Does not stop his reading. Not for the noise. Nor the river that’s trying to draw him blackwards. It’s sad what he’s reading, the parts I can hear anyway. Something about a man in a moss-filled forest. A pair of lungs full of river. When he looks up, the reading man, I think he’s crying. But he’s not. It’s me. Have the tears come up and out of me yet? I can’t tell where my skin in any more. He looks me right in the eye, the man. Doesn’t say a word. Just places his finger into the length of the book. As if to remember himself to the page. Brings the covers together and places it into my open hands. I am a raven full of maggots. A broken mother of pearl. Shards of light from the shell illuminate the maggots. Sets off a feeding frenzy obliterating dark matter from the hold.
Sessile oaks and ash and rowan. All the body’s vital organs. In the hold.
The wind’s picked up. Small white crests are whipping new peaks into water. I don’t want to open the book. Not right now.BBlack here;
we invite black to compose us. To touch. Make. Retch. Thrust. Keel. Us. Allow it to taste us, to smack its lips onto our lips. And make us.Black there;
we walk into its shadow. See how it lives beyond and without us.black and greasy;
‘graphite is of a peculiar iron-grey or dark steel-grey colour with metallic lustre. It is absolutely opaque and feels greasy to the touch...Used for writing on paper it makes a clean, distinct black mark, which can be rubbed off with bread-crumbs or India rubber (caoutchouc)...The finest lumps of graphite were formerly obtained almost entirely form Cumberland, where they were found in the slate rocks of Borrowdale’. (Ansted, 1880, p.186).blackening;
an act of becoming-black.Black;
another name for wad, graphite, plumbago, black cawke or black lead. A colour. In A Word-list of the Tasmanian Aboriginal Languages, N.J.B. Plomley notes that, ‘No wide resemblances have been noticed between ‘black’ and the blackness inherent in certain objects and situations, e.g. (black) man and (black) woman, the night, and charcoal.’ (Plomley, 1976, p.165).blackberry cane;
a vigorously growing stem of the blackberry bush (Rubus fruticosus). Recognised as one of the worst weeds in Tasmania, the blackberry was declared a Weed of National Significance in 1999.blackwards;
moving-with and already towards, black.black breath;
when we visited Dad in the Cottage Hospital, we both thought we saw tiny particles of black air fill his mouth.Blacklead;
‘lat.te.win.er’ – N.J.B.Plomley, in A Word-list of the Tasmanian Aboriginal Languages, notes that ‘The blacklead of the aborigines was probably the mineral iron glance, which is found on the surface of the ground in several localities in Tasmania. It was used by the natives to make lines of black on the skin, such as markings around the eyes.’ (Plomley, 1976, p.166).black-lead;
‘This remarkable mineral, known by various names of which black-lead and plumbago are the most familiar, is particularly interesting in its relation to the rare, brilliant, and costly diamond, and the much more valuable and abundant coal, on whose presence and convenient position for extraction the national wealth and progress of England have so much depended. Chemically, graphite, diamond, and coal may be said to be identical. They differ only in the mode of aggregation of the atoms of carbon of which each alike is made up.’ (Ansted, 1880, p.185).Black lead;
a carbon mineral first found in lump form deposits in the early 1500s at Grey Knotts in Borrowdale, England. Between the early 1600s–1800s, blacklead was used as lubricant, medicine and for the making of armaments. The best-known of the graphite-based industries is pencil making. The first pencils to be developed from Borrowdale graphite emerged around 1800, with the first pencil mill in Keswick opening in 1830. Black lead or graphite is currently mined commercially (amorphous and flake) in China, India, Brazil, Korea, Canada, Russian Federation, México, Ukraine, Turkey, Madagascar, Zimbabwe, Sri Lanka, Norway and Austria.blackness;
a feeling of saturating depth without colour. Colourless. Of every possible colour.Black devils;
‘Shoot the black devils down’: (Fawkner, 2007, p.23–24).Black market;
an expression with origins in the illegal trading of graphite. First coined in the ale houses of Keswick, Cumbria.Back Sal;
a notorious smuggler of wad who scavenged the mineral from tailings at the Borrowdale mine. Robbers like Black Sal made nightly raids on the mine and surrounding grounds, risking serious penalties if caught with even a trace of pilfered ‘black gold’, (Black Sal herself was allegedly hunted to death by a pack of hounds). As Tyler writes, ‘This quiet backwater had now become an area for vagabonds, rogues and thieves, who would stop at virtually nothing to get their hands on the precious wad.’ (1995, p.90). In 1751, George II’s Act of Stealing from Blacklead Mines was passed, dealing exclusively with the theft of wad. Penalties were harsh, making the stealing or receiving of illegally obtained wad punishable by a public flogging, a year’s hard labor or a term of seven years transportation to the colonies. This is what happened to James Butson, one of 186 convicts transported to Van Diemen’s Land on the ship ‘Circassian’ in 1832. Butson was sentenced to 14 years at Bodmin Quarter Session for stealing 1lb of black lead. The 1751 Act of George II states that, ‘Theft punishable with two years imprisonment. Everyone commits felony and is liable on conviction thereof to two years hard labour as a maximum punishment who steals or servers with intent to steal the ore of any metal or any lapis calaminaris, munick or any wad, black cawke, or black lead, or any coal or cannel coal from any mine, bed or vein thereof respectively.’ – (Stephen, 1887, p.269).Black Line;
a military campaign designed to subdue, incarcerate, expel and ultimately eradicate the Aboriginal peoples of lutruwita. On the 1st of November 1828, Lieutenant-Governor Arthur proclaimed martial law within the settled districts of Tasmania. By this proclamation he conceded the existence of a state of war and effectively ‘declared war against the whole Aboriginal population of Van Diemen’s Land’ (Calder 2010, p.181). Arthur strengthened military posts, by first forming ‘roving parties’ (groups of civilians set up to capture or expel the Aborigines), and then styled a levée en masse. On the 7th October 1830, 550 troops of the 15th, 57th and 63rd Regiments of the Van Diemen’s Land garrison formed a ‘line’ of men with the purpose of driving all remaining Aborigines southwards onto Tasman’s Peninsula. A campaign map drawn by the Land Survey Department commenced on the east coast at St. Patricks Head, then west to the Meander River, terminating in the south at Eaglehawk Neck. At an estimated cost of £30,000–£35,000, the Black Line campaign was a complete failure with Governor Arthur admitting that ‘no single party discovered any traces of the Natives’: (Melville, 1962, p.113). As Calder writes, ‘Martial law ended with the proclamation of the end of the campaign, and the status quo prevailed; that is, the people were once more British subjects under the care and protection of the Crown.’ (2010, p.189).black lines;
marks that extend in both directions and have no beginning or end.blackthorn;
(Prunus Spinosa L), a tree of ill omen. A deciduous tree also known as the Mother of the Woods and the Dark Crone of the Woods. It dwells on the edges of woodlands, forming dense hedgerows and thickets. An astringent useful in the treatment of diarrhoea, rheumatic illnesses, pimples or any kind of dermatosis; gallbladder stones and diabetes. The tree ‘bears wicked long sharp thorns, which if pricked, can turn septic’. (Hageneder, 2000, p. 185).black swans;
(Cygnus atratus) is the only entirely black-coloured swan in the world. They are a highly nomadic species that enjoy very much the brackish waters of the River Derwent, either side of the Bridgewater Causeway. They eat algae and weeds.Black Milky Way;
recorded by Plomley as ‘tone.ner.muck.kel.len.ner ’ (1976, p.408). Throughout trouwunna (Cape Barren Island), Aboriginal groups have a strong connection with the night sky. As Patsy Cameron writes, ‘the northeast Coastal Plains people claimed they were brought into being by stars which came from the constellations in the Milky Way...The arc of the Milky Way was identified in two parts–the Black Milky Way, tonenermuckkellenner, and the White Milky Way, pullenner’. According to Cameron, trouwunnans distinguished by name, not only those ‘shining objects that made up the non-intangible ‘white’ mass but also those in the intangible ‘black’ space that is also an integral part
of our galaxy’ (2016, p.27).black wool;
the thick and bristly wool of the herdwick sheep – a unique breed of domestic sheep, native to the fells of the central and western Lake District in Cumbria. So durable is their fleece, it is said that these sheep are ‘known to survive under a blanket of snow for three days while eating their own wool’. (Davies, 2009, p. 94).black bream;
(Acanthopagrus butcheri), a bronze coloured fish, reflecting green when fresh. Lives in the estuary of the River Derwent, Tasmania.blackwards;
towards the thunder.black lipped;
the telling bird.blackening heart;
it’s happening right now.blacken;
a call to arms.black-breaking;
a way of moving-with the colour ‘broken black’.Black land;
Cape barren Island. Aboriginal land.Black snake;
(Notechis ater).Black Bobs;
blushed.correcting.estimate*Black Snake Creek;
signals.download.wrinklingBlack Sail Pass;
blackmail.repeats.reviewsBlack Snake Road;
inconsistent.fallback.billionsBlack Bobs Rivulet;
passively.undone.slurBlack Hill Creek;
panther.pints.quickenedBlack Gully Creek;
conversation.replacement.clarifiedBlack Snake Rivulet;
engineer.heartened.windows*Blacklead Mining Company (The Tasmanian);
a company with the only Tasmanian commercial mining lease for graphite, operating on Cape Barren Island. Registered by Mr. Robert James Sadler in Launceston on the 30th day of July, 1898.black-gold seam;
a way of protecting the skin.
What3words is a geocoding system for the simple communication of locations. In a unique combination of just 3 words, it identifies a 3mx3m square, anywhere on the planet. To access this system of locative nomenclature visit:
Island literary magazine
Volume 146 3/2016
- ¶ Biography
- § Justy Phillips
- ‡ Margaret Woodward
- † Collaborators
A Published Event is the collaborative partnership of Justy Phillips and Margaret Woodward. Artists, writers and publishers. Making long-term relational artworks through shared acts of public telling, Phillips & Woodward explore chance encounter, constructed situations and the shared authorship of lived experience. They work with artists and writers, materials and ideas, writing, prose, book-works and performance. In 2019, A Published Event were awarded the Ruth Stephan Fellowship at the Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Yale University and the Josef + Anni Albers Studio Residency, Connecticut. In 2021 the artists will take up their Studio Residency at Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art (MASSMoCA), US.
Acutely aware of each other’s prospects, we move around these bodies that inhabit us. Evasive. Pleasing. Taunting. Chasing. Through a process of speculative eventing, we use language and experience to construct new events – speculative encounters with assemblages of real people and places; theoretical and conceptual ideas; objects, images and words. We are fictiōneers. Our movements are careful, vital, precarious.
We collaborate with creatures just like us and not like us – artists, writers, rivers, geologists, cleaners, librarians, leeches, archives, parents, nonagenarians – and more. And sometimes we just write for ourselves and for each other. More often than not we want to write-with the experiences we create. We want to name them. Bring them into language. Make them public. And not so that we will remember them as moments that once touched, but rather, so that they might come to invent different ways of thinking, moving, making, feeling. The nomenclature of all this activity is critical to how we write. Its language and language-ing is how we attend and attune to complex relational fields, environments that philosopher Erin Manning refers to as a ‘lively mesh of tendencies’. These wandering bodies that support, comfort, pierce confront us are at once soft and dangerous, curious and familiar. You can read more about our collaboration in Maggot and Crow, an essay we wrote for the Sydney Review of Books, Writers at Work series in 2019.
Together, we have published over 150 printed books since 2016.
Raymond Arnold is a renowned Australian printmaker whose work reflects the construction of the Tasmania landscape, in particular that of the west coast, his adopted home.Raymond has held more than 50 solo exhibitions and participated in group shows in Australia, Europe and the USA. His work can be found in the collections of the Imperial War Museum, the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, the Bibliotheque Nationale and the Musee Courbet in France, as well as the National Gallery, the Australian Parliament House and all state galleries in Australia. In 2006, Raymond established Landscape Art Research Queenstown (LARQ) with a dream to develop a wilderness art space as a ‘nest’ for incubation and a supporter of artists’ in residence.
Ally Bisshop is an artist, writer and researcher, dividing her time between Berlin and Sydney. Her practice engages process philosophy and ideas around aberrant language, materials, and temporalities. Ally is currently undertaking a PhD in Visual Arts at UNSW Art and Design, Sydney and holds a B.sc with first class honors (majoring in microbiology) from the University of Queensland, Brisbane, Australia (1999) and a Bachelor of Fine Arts through the College of Fine Arts, UNSW Sydney, majoring in sculpture and installation. Ally's writing has featured in runway and Berlin Artlink and she is an editorial board member of the runway journal for Australian experimental art, a position held since 2013.
Jen Bervin is a poet and visual artist. Her multidisciplinary, research-driven practice activates the intersections of text and textiles, art, poetry, and scholarship, science, technology, and craft, and has been widely recognized, collected, and exhibited internationally. Bervin has received fellowships from Creative Capital, the Robert Rauschenberg Foundation, The Josef and Anni Albers Foundation, New York Foundation for the Arts, MacDowell Colony, Center for Book Arts, and Camargo Foundation in France.
Lucy Bleach's practice focuses on human’s varied relationships to tenuous, contingent and at times volatile environments, seeking engagement with communities that authentically experience such relationships, exploring links between the geologic and the intimate, and investigating the potential of vibrational ground. She has produced solo commissioned and collaborative work within national and international contexts and received national funding, awards and international residencies. Lucy is Coordinator of Sculpture and 3D Design Studios, Tasmanian College the of Arts, University of Tasmania.
Robin Banks has a passion for geology and the printed page. In her professional career, Robin has been involved in a broad range of human rights advocacy activities and has a strong background in disability rights in particular. She holds a Bachelor of Laws from the University of NSW (1999). In 2000 she was admitted to practice as a Barrister and Solicitor in the Supreme Court of NSW and the High Court of Australia. Robin is currently a PhD candidate at the University of Tasmania, her thesis, an examination of whether and how discrimination law could use a conceptual framework that incorporates learnings from other disciplines, such as those of prejudice and unconscious bias from psychology, and what effect this might have on prevention and resolution.
Sofie Burgoyne is an artist currently working between Australia, Portugal and the UK. Making and performing artistic work related to the body, in a range of different contexts, her artistic practice is interested in alternative ways of relating mind to body, reality to the imagined and self to other. Inherent in her outlook of making is reflection and critique of the place of performance in theatres and consideration of the relevance and social function of art itself. As a maker and performer Sofie works across independent and company environments, collaborating with theatre makers, sound producers, visual artists, dancers and choreographers. Recently Sofie has collaborated with Miguel Pereira (O Rumo Do Fumo, PT), Theo Clinkard (UK) and Frantic Assembly (UK) and her work has been presented by The Place (UK) and Movement Research at Judson Church (US).
Tom Blake is an artist whose solo and collaborative practice draws on fragmented moments, looped imagery and recurring motifs as potential sites for contemplating the psychological, architectural and technological frameworks that surround us. Tom has exhibited in Australia, Japan and Italy and has been a finalist in Fremantle Arts Centre Print Award, The Blake Prize, the Fisher’s Ghost Art Award, the CLIP Award and has previously been awarded a Clitheroe Foundation Mentorship. Tom is also part of momo doto, an ongoing collaboration with Brisbane-based artist Dominique Chen.
Dominique Chen lives and works in South East Queensland, Australia. She is a proud biridja gamilaroi woman and is passionate about communicating ideas of culture, place and environment through her work. She currently lectures at Griffith University (Queensland College of Art) in the areas of Aboriginal art, culture and socio-political histories. Dominique is also part of momo doto, an ongoing collaboration with Sydney-based artist Tom Blake. She is currently undertaking doctoral study at the University of Technology Sydney, exploring the intersections between relational art, actvism and urban Aboriginal agriculture.
Shevaun Cooley is a Western Australian poet, essayist, and climber. Her poetry has been published in Cordite, Island, Poetry Wales, Meanjin, Southerly, The Best Australian Poems (2009, 2017), and she has been shortlisted for both the Newcastle Poetry Prize, and the University of Canberra Vice-Chancellor's International Poetry Prize. Her debut collection of poems, Homing was released in 2017 by Giramondo Publishing.
Fayen d'Evie is an artist and writer, born in Malaysia, raised in Aotearoa/New Zealand, and now living in the bushlands of unceded Dja Dja Wurrung country, Australia. Her
projects are often collaborative, and resist spectatorship by inviting audiences into sensorial readings of artworks. Fayen advocates blindness as a critical position that radically agitates ocularnormative biases, offering methods for navigating intersensory conversations, the tangible and intangible, hallucination, uncertainty, the precarious, the invisible, and the concealed. With artist Katie West, Fayen co-founded the Museum Incognita, which activates collective readings of neglected and obscured histories. Fayen has participated in many national and international exhibitions, residencies and collaborations.
Helena Demzcuk is a painter based in Queenstown on the west coast of Tasmania. The daughter of Ukrainian migrants, Helena lived in Papua and New Guinea before enrolling at QIT, Brisbane and Monash University, Melbourne to study Ukrainian language and literature. In 2005 Helena completed a BFA at the University of Tasmania, School of Art which included a semester at the Glasgow School of Art. Her artwork focuses on people, landscapes and the colour that unites them.
Jerry de Gryse is a landscape architect and co-founder and director of Inspiring Place. Jerry has practice experience that ranges in scale from square metres to thousands of square kilometres and in setting from the city centre to the wilderness. In his work, Jerry seeks out the essential values of a place to understand how these influence the physical form of the built environment and the personal experience of outdoor space. Jerry believes that exceptional public spaces are created where the needs of people for a vibrant setting are integrated with a community’s vision for its place and environmental sustainability principles. Jerry is a Fellow of the Australian Institute of Landscape Architects.
Catherine Evans is an artist working across photography, sculpture and installation. Initially trained in science and then photography, her studio and research practice is focused on geologic time and where this intersects with our own human timescales: as found in our bodies, their materiality, and our subjective histories through colonialism and archaeology. Dividing her time between Melbourne and Berlin, she was the 2017 Georges Mora Fellow, Melbourne, and received first prize in the 2020 Neukölln Art Prize, Berlin.
Julie Gough (AUS) is an artist, freelance curator and writer. Her research and art practice often involves uncovering and re-presenting often conflicting and subsumed histories, many referring to her own and her family's experiences as Tasmanian Aboriginal people. Julie holds a PhD from the University of Tasmania and has exhibited widely in Australia since 1994 including: undisclosed, National Gallery of Australia, 2012; Clemenger Award, National Gallery of Victoria, 2010; Biennial of Sydney, 2006; Liverpool Biennial, UK, 2001; Perspecta, AGNSW, 1995. Her work is held in most Australian state and national gallery collections, and she is represented by Bett Gallery, Hobart.
Ross Gibson is an artist, writer and Centenary Professor in Creative & Cultural Research at the University of Canberra. Recent works include the books 26 Views of the Starburst World (UWAP) and Stone Grown Cold (Cordite Books) and the co-production of the ABC Radio National Feature 'Energy Grids'. Outside academia he was inaugural Creative Director at the Australian Centre for the Moving Image (1998 - 2002) and a Senior Consultant Producer for the establishment of the Museum of Sydney (1993 - 96).
Bianca Hester's is a practising artist, writer and senior lecturer at UNSW Art and Design. Her research engages with the fabric urban space, where place is approached as a complex constellation of human timescales, nonhuman durations, atmospheric forces, objects, histories and geologic materialities. Her projects often unfold as a series of actions in dialogue with a range of contexts, interlocutors and audiences. Bianca completed PhD at RMIT (Melbourne, 2007) and was a founding member of CLUBSpropject inc. (Melbourne, 2002–2007) and is a continuing member of the Open Spatial Workshop collective.
Chris Henschke is an artist who works across analogue and digital media and experimental physics and chemistry. He has exhibited internationally, including the National Gallery of Australia, 2004; the Natural History Museum in Vienna, 2016; and Dark Mofo, Hobart, 2019; and has undertaken various residencies including the Australian Synchrotron, 2007 and 2010, and the ANAT Synapse program at the CSIRO, 2018. He has a PhD which included practice at the European Organisation for Nuclear Research (CERN), Switzerland, 2013-2017.
Ruth Hadlow is a visual artist with a process-based practice which incorporates temporal wall drawings, writing, performative lectures and artist’s books. She has exhibited nationally and internationally, undertaken numerous residencies around Australia and New Zealand, and been the recipient of several Australia Council grants for research projects. Ruth has a PhD from the University of South Australia, and is known for her freelance teaching focused on process-based contemporary arts practice.
Ted Hendrickson studied photography at the University of Connecticut, where he received B.A. and M.F.A. degrees, and at Rhode Island School of Design where he earned a Master’s degree in Art Education. Hendrickson’s work has been featured nationally in numerous one-person and group exhibitions. He received a commission from the Connecticut Commission on the Arts to photograph the towns of New London County for permanent exhibition at the New London County Court House. His work is included in many prestigious public and private collections. Hendrickson is Associate Professor Emeritus of Art at Connecticut College and he lives in Mystic, Connecticut.
Lyndal Jones is a Melbourne-based artist whose work coveres a wide range of practices, including performance, theatre, dance and video. Jones' work focuses on the politics of context, place and gender through very long-term projects, including The Avoca Project (2006-2016), centred around the Watford House – including land works, exhibitions, performances, film showings, concerts and symposia, always , an international art project in regional Victoria, Australia. She has exhibited extensively in both solo and group shows in Australia and overseas. In 2001, Jones represented Australia at the Venice Biennale with the work Deep Water/Aqua Profunda.
Sarah Jones is an artist, writer and curator. Through first person narrative, both written and performed, Sarah is interested in the desire for the dissolution of the perceived self in the spaces between the landscape and the body. Understanding text as a kind of emotional cartography, Jones explores the (text)body in (time)space. She explores publishing as the unfolding of a making public —an act of collaborative desiring; the demand for a witness who is simultaneously present and absent.
Loren Kronemyer is an artist living and working in remote lutruwita (Tasmania), Australia. Her works span interactive and live performance, experimental media art, and large-scale worldbuilding projects aimed at exploring ecological futures and survival skills. As part of duo Pony Express, she is co-creator of projects like Ecosexual Bathhouse, a touring queer sex club for the entire ecosystem. She collaborates frequently with laboratories, including most recently as the first resident at the International Centre for Radio Astronomy Research, and received the first Masters of Biological Arts Degree from SymbioticA Lab at the University of Western Australia. She is a mentor at the Icelandic Academy of Art for their Masters of Performing Arts program, and a PhD candidate at the University of Tasmania.
Louisa King is an artist. Her practice is one of site responsive landscape experimentation, carried out through installation, drawing and performative writing. Turning towards the Anthropocene, Louisa’s practice explores the dialectic potential of landscape architectural practice in accessing the nature/culture collapse. Her interest lies in cartography, ficto-criticism, and temporary event based landscape design and material explorations of the geologic city. Louisa is a lecturer in landscape architecture at University Technology Sydney and PhD candidate at RMIT University, Melbourne.
Nancy Kuhl is a poet and Curator of Poetry for the Yale Collection of American Literature at the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale University. She is author of full-length poetry collections including Suspend (2010) and Pine to Sound (2015), as well as the chapbooks In the Arbor (1997), winner of the Wick Poetry Chapbook Prize, Little Winter Theater (2011), and The Birds of the Year (2016). Kuhl is co-editor, with Richard Deming, of Phylum Press, publisher of poetry pamphlets and chapbooks.
Therese Keogh is an artist who lives and works in Sydney, Australia. She has exhibited her work in solo and group exhibitions around Australia and internationally, employing research methods to examine the structures that produce and transform, space through an engagement with site, landscape and histories of making. Therese is currently studying for a Masters of Fine Art, at Sydney College of the Arts.
Caroline Loewen is curator at the Lougheed House, a historic house museum in Calgary, Canada. She holds a Master’s degree in Art History from the University of St. Andrews, as well as a BA in Archaeology and a BA in Art History from the University of Calgary. Her degrees in both Art History and Archaeology support her interests in art, history, and land; her curatorial practice focuses on exploring ideas around cultural geography, place-making, memory, and cultural/natural landscapes.
Greg Lehman is an Indigenous Visiting Research Fellow at the Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies and has recently completed a PhD at the University of Tasmania’s School of Art on visual representations of Tasmanian Aborigines. Greg is also an Honorary Research Fellow at the Australian National University’s Humanities Research Centre, supporting the development of Encounters exhibition. He is also a member of the National Museum of Australia’s Indigenous Advisory Committee, and the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery’s Aboriginal Advisory Council.
Trygve Luktvasslimo is an artist whose work examines seduction, worship and redemption in music and in visual and verbal narratives. Through a diverse practice he locates spiritual projects outside of the religious field, and he looks at how these faith-based concepts influence the construction of characters and stories. He exhibits and performs internationally in galleries, museums, festivals and clubs. Trygve holds an MFA in Visual Art from Malmö Art Academy, Sweden (2006). He is a board member, Fond for lyd og bilde, Arts Council Norway and a public art consultant KORO, Norway Office for public Art.
Paul Mylechrane is a partner in Public Office, a collaborative research, design & development practice focusing on the intersection of physical and digital publishing. We prioritise work in close collaboration with artists, curators and cultural organisations. Rather than an aesthetic or style; a context and project specific solution is sought out for each individual commission. With a practice rooted in publication design, our digital projects focus on exports to printed matter, custom tools and software for content creation and dispersion; and experiments in autonomous publishing in the peer-to-peer space.
Tine Melzer connects the philosophy of language with visual art and her main motif is language. She works both as an artist and researcher and has taught at various academies and universities since 2004. Since 2014, she has taught at HKB Bern University of the Arts, at the transdisciplinary Y Institute and has been active as a tutor for the MA in Contemporary Arts Practice and as a lecturer at the Department of Art & Design.
Wendy Morrow is a Hobart based dance artist working in the area of new dance. Her career spans across 35 years and includes performing with the Monte Carlo Ballet, The Scottish Ballet, The Sydney Dance Company and Danceworks. Morrow has worked with Australia's most influential makers in new dance, studied and traveled internationally with her work and established an interdisciplinary practice. She has extensive teaching experience working with professional companies, independent artists and most tertiary arts institutions around Australia.
James Newitt is an artist who lives and works in Hobart and Lisbon. James’ work explores specific social and cultural relations, often embracing mutability and paradox. James has exhibited his work in exhibitions in museums, galleries and public spaces throughout Australia and Europe. In 2012 he was awarded the prestigious Samstag Scholarship to participate in the Maumaus Independent Study Program in Lisbon. In 2010 he won the City of Hobart Art Prize and in 2009 he was awarded the Qantas Foundation, Encouragement of Contemporary Art Award. James is a Lecturer, at the Tasmanian College of the Arts.
The Proximity 2020 Lab was facilitated by three artists, researchers, writers – Fayen d’Evie, Cassie Lynch and Madeleine Flynn, coordinated by Proximity in collaboration with DADAA. Proximity is a national artist platform known for commissioning intimate participatory experiences for audiences of one at a time. Participating artists in the Lab include, Bruno Booth (WA), Dominique Chen (QLD), Hanna Cormick (ACT), Aviva Endean (VIC), Riana Head-Toussaint (NSW), Mei Swan Lim (WA), Justy Phillips & Margaret Woodward – A Published Event (TAS), Alec Reade (VIC) and Katie West (WA).
Jo Paterson Kinniburgh's research operates between architecture, performance and inter-medial studies, with a focus on possible futures for small contemporary live music performance venues. My work challenges the colonial performance space located on confiscated Maori land for contemporary indigenous performance, by rejecting the stage and working in the margins. Jo is a doctoral candidate working on a thesis entitled The Spatial Dramaturgy of Live Music Performance.
Perdita Phillips is an Australian artist/researcher primarily interested in the environment who often refers to scientific understanding in her work. At the same time she is interested in things that aren’t explained by science which might be about what is not seen or logically sensible. Using many different media including walking, mapping and listening, her work is marked by a continuing interest in the relationships between humans and nonhuman others (rocks, plants, animals, ecosystem processes). She has published Invisible Monsters (2018), A simple rain (Vivienne Glance and Perdita Phillips 2012) and birdlife (2011, edited by Nyanda Smith and Perdita Phillips) with Lethologica Press and in 2017 she created the limited edition Wingenretnuh with BookMachine.
Siddharth Pandey is a Research Fellow in Global History at the Ludwig Maximilian University, Munich, Germany. Pandey's research straddles English literature, cultural studies, global history, heritage conservation, visual arts, materiality studies and geohumanities. Hailing from the Himalayas of Shimla in North India, he completed his Bachelors (H), Masters (MA) and MPhil in English Literature from the University of Delhi (India), after which he joined the University of Cambridge for a second MPhil in Children’s Literature from 2012-13. He recently completed his PhD (2019) at Cambridge, that studied the ways in which ‘making’ in its myriad forms (like human craftsmanship and non-human growth) impacts the genesis of ‘wonder’ in secondary worlds of fantasy literature. In 2019 Pandey was a Visiting Scholar at Yale University’s Centre for British Art.
Regional Assembly is an artist-led online studio program connecting cultural practitioners working in regional and remote geographies across the Asia-Pacific. The inaugural Regional Assembly brings together a multidisciplinary cohort of practitioners living and working in First People's unceded territories across Australia, in Aotearoa (New Zealand), India, Kashmir, and the Philippines—Uzma Falak (Kashmir); Sara Last (NSW); Mohit Shelare (India); Zoe Scoglio (VIC); Desna Whaanga-Schollum (New Zealand); Hana Pera Aoake (New Zealand); Lia Pa’apa’a (QLD); Katie Breckon (WA); Justy Phillips & Margaret Woodward (TAS) ; Leecee Carmichael (QLD); and Karen Mills (NT).
Jane Rendell (BA, DipArch, MSc, PhD) is an academic and writer. She trained and practiced as an architectural designer, before studying for her MSc and PhD in feminist architectural history. Her interdisciplinary work, through which she has developed concepts of ‘critical spatial practice’ and ‘site-writing’, crosses architecture, art, feminism, history and psychoanalysis. Her books include Site-Writing (2010), Art and Architecture (2006), and The Pursuit of Pleasure (2002), and co-edited collections like Pattern (2007), Critical Architecture (2007), Spatial Imagination (2005), The Unknown City (2001), Intersections (2000), Gender, Space, Architecture (1999) and Strangely Familiar (1995). Jane is Professor of Architecture and Art at the Bartlett, UCL.
Katie Stackhouse is an Australian artist living and working in Naarm/Melbourne. Examining notions of time within landscape, contemporary human interactions with natural environments and emerging experiential technologies, her sculptural, spatial and performance-based practice is informed by scientific and philosophical views of ecology. After completing a Bachelor of Fine Arts, Stackhouse studied at the Gerrit Rietveld Art Academy in the Netherlands. Stackhouse is currently completing a Master of Contemporary Art at the Victorian College of the Arts and has been a resident at the Haystack Mountain School of Crafts in the USA, the Amsterdams Grafisch Atelier in the Netherlands and Durrmu Arts Centre in Peppimenarti, Australia. Her work is included in private collections throughout Australia, Europe, Japan and the USA.
Mary Scott lives and works in Hobart, Tasmania. Selected recent exhibitions include Facts and Fictions, , UK Drawing Projects, The Drawing Centre, Trowbridge, UK; Drawing Now, [2015 and 2014], Despard Gallery, Hobart; Hobart City $15,000 Invitation Art Prize, , Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery; Black Powder, , Contemporary Art Tasmanian and Detached Cultural Organisation; Down the Line: an exhibition of drawing, , Near and Far,  Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery; Wilderness: Balnaves Contemporary Painting, , Art Gallery of NSW. Mary has been a recipient of several New Work Australia Council Grants [2008; 2002]. When she is not in her studio Scott works at the Tasmania College of the Arts where she is Senior Lecturer.
Polly Stanton is an artist and filmmaker who currently lives and works
in Narrm/Melbourne, Australia. Her work primarily investigates the relationships between environment, human actions and land use. Her films and installations focus on contested sites and extractive zones, presenting landscape as a politically charged field of negotiation, entangled with history, technology and capital. Recent exhibitions include; Indefinite Terrains. Metro Arts, Brisbane, Australia (solo) and Shelter in Place. Town Hall Gallery, Melbourne, Australia; Notions of Care. Bus Projects, Melbourne, Australia; and Her Beauty and Her Terror. Caboolture Regional Art Gallery, QLD, Australia. Stanton was awarded a Doctor of Philosophy (Fine Art), RMIT University in 2018.
Erica Van Horn is an artist and writer, born in the United States. An early exhibition I’ve Been Making Books Since the Day President Kennedy Was Shot at Franklin Furnace (NYC) gathered together an selection of her Artist Books. Her work has increasingly evolved from the combined visuals and text of the Artists Book to the form of writing itself. Recent publications include Living Locally (Uniformbooks 2014), Em & Me (Coracle 2018), Too Raucous For A Chorus(Coracle 2018), with its French translation due later this year (Héros-Limite/Geneva 2020). She lives and works in rural Ireland.
Ben Walter is a Tasmanian writer of lyrical fiction and poetry who has been widely published in publications such as Island and Southerly. He has twice been shortlisted in the Tasmanian Premier’s Literary Prizes, and was the recent guest editor of Overland’s special anti-/dis-/un-Australian fiction issue. Ben is one of Australia's most widely published writers of short stories. His essays have appeared in The Guardian, Meanjin and Island.
Rory Wray-McCann is an underground miner who has lived on the West Coast of Tasmania for nearly three decades, working and helping to raise and fund a family of three. He got out of 'the black rabbit game' a while ago and rebadged himself as a surface tip rat with a creative bent. Rory uses the materials of the Tasmanian landscape, mainly rocks and crystals, as his palette, creating large scale geological compositions set in concrete.
Tony Woodward was an arts educator and artist working in the area of public art. Tony’s public art career began in 1999 with the completion of Frida’s Carload for the Moonah Arts Centre. His whimsical sculptures feature in public landscapes across Tasmania, including schools, parks, health care facilities and shopping precincts. His work explores the interaction between humanity, nature and the built environment and features iconic images such as cars, clouds, mountains, rivers and cities. As a teacher and community artist, Woodward has worked extensively with young people on a range of community arts projects. He received the Premier’s Westfield Education Scholarship in 2004 and the Hardie Fellowship in 2005. In 2013 he received the Alcorso Foundation Italian Residency. Tony passed away in 2021 during the exhibition period of his first solo show, Red Star Shining at Moonah Arts Centre, a series of twelve intricate mosaic works detailing the rise and fall of successive Labor governments in the state of Tasmania.
Tricky Walsh works both collaboratively and in a solo capacity. Their projects focus on both spatial and communication concerns and while they use a diversity of media (architecture, painting, drawing, sculpture, installation, sound, film, comics, radio) it is foremost the concept at hand that determines which form of material experimentation occurs within these broader themes. They are represented by Bett Gallery, Hobart, Tasmania, and MARS Gallery in Melbourne and have exhibited extensively throughout Tasmania, Australia and Overseas.