found in translation – RMIT Gold & Silversmithing 1st and 2nd years' end of year exhibition!

Annual exhibition of jewellery and hollow ware
by RMIT University’s first and second year
gold & silversmithing students

4–13 November 2009
Opening Wednesday 4 November 5–7pm

RMIT School of Art Gallery
Building 2, Bowen Street, off LaTrobe Street
Gallery hours: Monday to Friday 10–5pm

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So, our assessment is over (hello again, blog, friends, family! I'll post pictures of new work as I get the photos and pieces sorted out a bit), and life is flooding back to the weary body and mind again, slowly but surely.

It's always a really emotional time for me, the last day of uni, from the culmination of strong energies and the notion of something ending. But hey, only four months, seven days and thirteen hours since we can go back again!! Hehe! Thank you for everyone who lended tissues and warm hands during the tearful afternoon. I love you guys, and can't wait to be making things together throughout the summer : )

But the end is not at hand yet really, the end of year exhibition looming just around the corner. Still heaps to do, but it will be great! This year we have a greatest number of students involved for a long time, 31 all together, so should be an interesting and varied collection of pieces.

Here's our invite, I designed it and am very happy about how it turned out. Click on the image if you want a clearer / larger view. We wanted something graphic this year and thought that a little playful DIY would not go amiss (and wait for our fabulous plinths that have been designed and made by our exhibition design team, too!). The image also speaks of our theme – anything can be found in translation, the process, in discovering new ways of doing things, in looking at the world from a different angle. Jewellery can be anything, anywhere …

Welcome to our opening on next Wednesday, please find all the info below.
More soon, nice to be back.

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School of Art Gallery details:
Phone: 03 9925 4971
Email: schoolofartgalleries@rmit.edu.au
Website: schoolofartgalleries.dsc.rmit.edu.au
Curator/Coordinator: Stephen Gallagher
Administration/web design Andrew Tetzlaff

Artists:
year 1:
aurelia yeomans
clementine edwards
danica moorcroft
eideann lear
joelle peters
kate peterson
katie jayne britchford
khyran randall-demllo
laura barlow
lin lin
loredana ducco
lucinda knight
rachel fares
rebecca bartha
ruby aitchison
sarah wallace
wendy korol
yasmin hackett

year 2:
allona goren
alysha batliwalla
bin dixon-ward
chloë powell
colly yichieh lu
courtney jackson
ev liong
inari kiuru
kim wearne
marcos guzman
romy mittelman
sarah fletcher
soojeong jo

Our press release:

Found in Translation showcases the jewellery and hollowware made by first and second year students who are currently studying Gold and Silversmithing in the School of Art at RMIT University. The title of the exhibition reflects the ever-constant battle these developing artists wage in their endeavour to translate material and concept into object, whilst finding their individual voices within a thriving local and international gold and silversmithing community. Please join the students in celebrating the outcome of (many) hours of labor involving flaming torches, red-hot kilns and filed fingertips during this highlight of the School of Art Gallery exhibition calendar.

For media enquiries, contact: Mark Edgoose Coordinator Undergraduate Gold and Silversmithing School of Art, RMIT University 9925 3540 / mark.edgoose@rmit.edu.au

21/10/09

You're pretty sure then, Wittgenstein?

His timeless thought "Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen" translates freely into English as "One must shut up about the stuff s/he can't chat about."

In any case, the following is a classic. Enjoy.

rainy day women

Sometimes, before the water dries up again,
I go to meet my friend who lives under the surface

an odd parade of sleepwalkers

15/10/09

Please

Recurring elements in dreams 2: foreign rains

Bedtime stories for not such good children, part 2

Soundtrack: The Kingston Trio played at half speed

PS. nightmare edits to the story 0601109

Friday after dark

Paul Simon / A poem on the underground wall
The last train is nearly due
The underground is closing soon
In the dark deserted station
Restless in anticipation
A man waits in the shadows.

His restless eyes leap and scratch
At all that they can touch or catch
Hidden deep within his pocket
Safe within his silent socket
He holds his colored crayon.

Now from the tunnel's stony womb
The carriage rides to meet the groom
And opens wide and welcome doors
But he hesitates then withdraws
Deeper in the shadows

And the train is gone suddenly
On wheels clicking silently
Like a gently tapping litany
And he holds his crayon rosary
Tighter in his hand

Now from his pocket he quickly flashes
The crayon on the wall he slashes
Deep upon the advertising
A single-worded poem comprised of
- four letters

And his heart is laughing, screaming, pounding
The poem across the tracks rebounding
Shadowed by the exit light
His legs take their ascending flight
To seek the breast of darkness and be suckled by the night.

closed until morning

You will see the stars if you click on the pic

Spring, illusion, insomnia

As well as the distortion of time that happens at low light, there is another quality to the landscape at night: One can not say for sure if the images captured then are from a dream, from a waking reality, or whether there is an area in between …

I was thinking about this on Tuesday. That morning, I caught a tram, arrived at university, sat down in the studio and worked at my bench as usual, until late in the afternoon. Then I woke up at home. I had dreamt the whole day in real time.

My mind must have been willing, but body too exhausted. Seasons are changing again, insomnia is here, circadian rhythms reshuffled or disturbed, however you look at it. This unpredictable time before the still, heavy, stable warmth of summer.

In Finland, a long time ago, the melting of snow from the branches of trees marked the arrival of early spring. On clear nights I lay awake and watched the newly freed forest sway in the wind, casting slowly moving shadows on my bedroom wall. It was hard to stay indoors then, everything outside was calling.

Here, with the first spring moons the restlessness returns.

Yesterday, I went out and walked around, late (in our family this is normal), unable to sleep, unable to do anything else useful. Night is such a gentle friend, it lets you see, but at the same time, feel invisible and at one with vast spaces, with the movement of air. No ceilings of blue skies or clouds, just endless, expanding deep above. Room to breathe, not having to talk to anyone or be seen by anyone. Quiet, only few people awake. Close to freedom, but still close to home.

i











Home, seen from the street, early Thursday 08/10/09

– Click on the images to get a better sense of space –

A las cinco de la tarde

"At five in the afternoon"

life

crow's fall

When Crow was white he decided the sun was too white.
He decided it glared much too whitely.
He decided to attack it and defeat it.

He got his strength up flush and in full glitter.
He clawed and fluffed his rage up.
He aimed his beak direct at the sun's centre.

He laughed himself to the centre of himself

And attacked.

At his battle cry trees grew suddenly old,
Shadows flattened.

But the sun brightened—
It brightened, and Crow returned charred black.

He opened his mouth but what came out was charred black.

"Up there," he managed,
"Where white is black and black is white, I won."

Ted Hughes

Night fishing

full moon 04/10/09