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I ease my way down a nondescript alley beside a house in North Carlton and peer into a window at the dark space within. A twirling horror suddenly confronts me; the bound figure twists and reaches for unseen things in the flickering light, a mere arm span from me.
© Max Milne
Welcome to Holes in the Wall, a one night show devised and curated by Theresa Harrison. In a novel take on the traditional art exhibition, Harrison has temporarily evicted the residents of 276 Station Street, whose rooms are still quite obviously lived in, to accommodate the varied artwork of 12 local artists.
The idea is to walk down narrow side alley beside the house and climb some steps mounted in front of each of the alley windows to look at the artwork inside. There is never any indication from the outside of what could be hidden inside each room, and each yields its own unique surprises as you level with the window. The range of works on show was extremely varied, from inflatable promotional airmen crippled into a hunch while their arms flail uselessly in the constrained room space to a wall sized acrylic on canvas image of a levitating gothic figure that leached out the smell of paint onto the street. Good luck sleeping in that room after the show!
My favourite piece was a work which consisted of white fecal matter splattered artfully around the room and all over the two human figures standing within while flowers sprouted throughout — an imaginative use of the mediums. I would like to tell you who the artist was and the name of the work, but the vague and mangled descriptions used to describe the installations conspired against me (I encourage all aspiring artists to take a course in clear use of language).
The show was not limited to the rooms, though. The backyard was filled with a suspended structure of everyday objects, cascading upwards on fishing wire with every detail carefully positioned, right down to the abandoned teddy, lying face down in the dirt. The back of the lane was transformed into a makeshift bar on which the enormous crowd of screndy 20s descended to be served up wine and white rabbit ale through a spiders web of cable ties.
As I exited, winding my way past the jumble of broken furniture out front, old TVs flickering a loop of everyday life from within, and left the still growing crowd behind, I felt glad to live in a city that encourages such innovative and engaging exhibitions.
Top marks to Harrison for transforming the common into the artistic in such an unassuming location. It made me wonder how many other hidden shows go on around the Melbourne right under our noses, with the vast majority walking by obliviously.
For more photos, click here.
