Landscapes of decay

Lost land; found objects by Liz Taggart-Speers

 

Tim Winton talking about the landscape in conversation with Phillip Adams on Radio National Monday 12 October 2015

 “Landscape is a geological force, family feels geological, tectonic at times.  It impinges upon you, it changes you, you can recognise it in your own habits…You wind the window down and it leans in on you like a leering uncle always calling in the old favours”.[1]

 

The Waste Land, TS Eliot

 …“What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow

Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,

You cannot say, or guess, for you know only

A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,

And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief

And the dry stone no sound of water”[2]

 

Our world is continually decaying, eroding and transforming and with this dynamism comes a desire to capture the ephemeral nature of our existence.  Climate change, war, mortality, religion, the land and the body all feature in this exhibition and all challenge our view of decay and the varying landscapes around it.  Each artist presents a unique way of seeing the world, of perceiving it and commenting on it.  Yet as a collective, Random9 has created a dialogue that speaks to the viewer of the some times contradictory nature of our relationship with the landscape and in doing so comments on our evolving sense of self.

 This dialogue comes at a time when people around the world are looking for ways to live more sustainably and authentically.  We are considering how we live our lives and what it means to be living in a landscape that continually decays, continually evolves and transforms.  How does our own lifestyle impact on the wider environment? How do we evolve with it? What does it mean to age? And how can we as individuals participate in a global society while continuing to live by our own values and ethics?

 Like TS Eliot, Random9 explores the decayed waste land by including many voices, multiple viewpoints and some times abrupt shifts in content.  Obsessed with novelty, trends and materialism society is shown as “lacking the substance to reaffirm its cultural heritage”[3] however, in contrast to Eliot, Random9 like Winton provides us with hope.  Winton explains, as Australians begin to think about the landscape as “country” and not “territory” to exploit, people increasingly gain not only a sense of the landscape but their place in it.[4]  “Country is essential to who we are, saturating us in particularities of space, texture, sound, ambience”[5] and art hands us a tool to study this.

Here, Random9 recognise the fragility and mortality of our existence but evokes an optimistic view of the decaying landscape and our relationship with it.  Be it a geographical vista of open country, the body or the human condition, the landscape as explored by Random9 encapsulates it all.  Dynamic in all its forms, the landscape continues to renew, regrow and rejuvenate.  It is in this "constant state of transformation"[6] that Landscapes of Decay makes its mark.

 

The landscape

Artist, Simyrn Gill said, “I think landscape has become a thing that we carry with us”[7] and this is certainly something we see in Landscapes of Decay.  Whether it is the emotive drawings and sculptural works of Janet Long that speak of impermanence, the installation of up-cycled found objects of Sonja Kalenjuk that challenge the ethics of our throw away society, or the sensitive work exploring ageing and dementia by Dianne Libke, the landscape is something we "carry with us". It is something that not only surrounds us but is found within us, or is part of us and it is this interrelationship that makes us who we are.

We see the decaying landscape in its simplest form in Samita Lissaman’s work Leaves of Macgregor.  Found on the footpath, the fallen leaf is used to print on handmade paper. The process of using found objects is influenced by the work of Andy Goldsworthy but it is the purity and authenticity of using a fallen leaf that highlights the delicacy and the fragility of the decaying landscape.

Like Lissaman, Maria Klingner has used leaves to represent decay of the landscape in her work Silver LINE(ing).  However, the leaf-like form takes on a metaphorical quality. Shiny metal brooches and pendants transform from flat sheet toward an object of fluidity and unity, representing the transformational journey one makes through life’s journey.  Klingner believes, “out of something bad always comes something good”[8] and with this hope, comes life.  This transformation of the landscape alludes to the passage of time and with it, the inevitability of decay.

 

Impermanence and the passage of time

The landscape is constantly evolving over time and it is this impermanence that is captured in the work of Janet Long.  As Andy Goldsworthy states, “Movement, change, light, growth, and decay are the life-blood of nature, the energies that I try to tap through my work”.[9]  Like Goldsworthy, Janet Long creates sculptures by combining found objects with elements of the landscape.  As a sculptor my work concerns the creation of objects and images with strong materiality that can act as metaphors for shared human existence, in particular impermanence, spirituality and the body”[10].  Trained as a sculptor, Long has recently explored drawing as a means to not only extend her art practice but to also allow for the grieving of her father’s passing.  “I think my work is about loss and hope and paradox”[11] Long explains.

 

While on a residency in Finland, Long created a variety of environmental sculptures, including an ephemeral sculpture made from snow and photographed.  Long’s artwork is but a memory only to be captured by photographs.  As explained by Andy Goldsworthy, “When I’m working with material it’s not just the leaf or the stone, it’s the processes that are behind them that are important.  That’s what I’m trying to understand, not a single isolated object but nature as a whole”.[12]  And it is this focus on the process of making that accentuates the impermanence; the living and breathing element of the landscape that allows for chance and a change in seasons.

 

Reminiscent of the rows of trees Long saw in the forests in Finland and a homage to Tree Mountain by Agnes Denis, the screws strewn across the surface of a found saw, in the work titled, dark forest, speak of the order and impact the introduction of forests have had on the natural environment.  Repetitive patterns often incorporated into Long’s works also give a meditative quality in a lifelong exploration of Buddhist philosophy.  It is this meditative quality that also speaks of the metaphysical connection Long has with her own environment.  Something that is akin to a breath.

This metaphysical nature of landscape is further explored in Naomi Somerville’s Untitled.  The circular form in Somerville’s cold glasswork represents the repetitive nature of her behaviour and the decay that comes with it.  Opening up into an arc, the work illustrates the freedom that comes from choosing a new direction.  Symbolic of empowerment, this work sits on her old bedside cabinet, a “reminder to let go of the material items to move on”.[13]  Used in her childhood, the bedside cabinet is imbued with a past life from a previous landscape and allows Somerville to draw on this decayed object for it to be reborn as something anew. 

Found objects

By incorporating found objects into their artworks, be they a simple leaf, old furniture or a deflated swimming pool, artists can create direct correlations between the landscapes they are depicting and their emotional response to it.  Sonja Kalenjuk with her work, Interior Landscapes, explores this concept.  A merchandiser by trade, Sonya believes, “there is no such thing as waste just stuff in the wrong place”.[14]

 

Basing her work on the Gaia theory, that everything is connected, Kalenjuk studies “the time before the renaissance when art, science and spirituality were at one”.[15]  In doing so, Sonya highlights the lost connection people have with the landscapes around them.  In this throw away society, found objects give currency to this concept and the medium once part of the decaying landscape is given new life in an artwork.  As Dianne Libke, who has also used found objects in her work says, “I am a collector of other people’s lives, of the things they no longer want” and in doing so Libke “reclaims the self and gives value and beauty to the detritus and decay of our lives”. [16]

 

Rebecca Hadley also based her work on found objects.  By stretching suede across an old fire gate, Rebecca creates an imperfect surface already woven with history on which to base her work.  Pigment and PVA are then applied which gives the work a preciousness only seen once it has decayed. Hadley studies the concept that as something decays it becomes more delicate.  Displayed like an old cobwebbed painting, the value Rebecca gives decayed objects reflects the personal moral and spiritual decay people undergo within their bodies.[17]

 

Random9 and “ways of seeing”

Consisting of over twenty artists in a range of media, Random9 collective explore many “ways of seeing”[18].  Berger in his television series and accompanying book, Ways of Seeing, suggests a way of seeing or looking at images has more of an affect on the outcome of a work, than the actual making of it.  “Soon after we can see, we are aware that we can also be seen. The eye of the other combines with our own eye to make it fully credible that we are part of the visible world”.[19] Photo media artist, Stephanie Parker, has created a seemingly abstract work on which belies a landscape of decaying fruit.  With the use of clever reflective lighting, enabling the viewer to look at themselves through the work, Parker begs us to question our own decaying bodies, our inevitable death and the possibility of rejuvenation.

 

As Vito Acconci explains when describing Gerrit Rietveld’s Zig Zag Stoel, “I really hated the position of the viewer is here and the work is there. That’s what bothered me about performance. You had to use words like viewer, audience.  I wanted a work that persons could be part of”.[20]  Just as the landscape is something “we carry with us” that is part of us, so too becomes the work.  Further to this Mike Dibb, the series director of Ways of Seeing said of the filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard, “I was taken by his belief that a film is neither on the screen or in the audience; it should exist in that space between the audience and the screen”.[21]   And so too here, in Original Copy, Parker plays with this.  A self confessed illusion maker, Parker explains, after watching the fruit decay over a few months, “Eventually all the fruit were gone and all I had to remind me that this fruit ever existed was the residue of the event, my photographs. In a few years’ time when my memory of this event has faded will these images become how I saw the fruit originally?”[22]  With the photographs used as evidence, does the illusion created by Parker become reality?

 

Tommy Balogh also creates works that “meditate on notions of the material and the impermanent”[23].  By exploring these concepts, Balogh attempts to find the “threshold between order and chaos”.  By backlighting abstract compositional elements combined with phosphorescent media in the dimly lit gallery, Balogh’s Cadence and Orbs act as a metaphor for “breaking down our concepts of art or anything for that matter”[24].  This interactive work which allows the viewer to adjust the lighting and the effect it has on the landscape reminds us that, “It’s the decay of what we think we know, the break up of certainty”.[25]

 

Like Parker and Balogh, Kimberly Barnes encourages the viewer to actively participate in the work by bringing their consciousness to the viewing process.  As James Turrell explains, “My work is more about your seeing than it is about my seeing, although it is a product of my seeing”.[26] Based on the principles of the Rorschach inkblot test, Barnes captures landscape fragments to create her own living inkblot images.  Here, Barnes plays with the “balance between truth and perception”, and again the concept of illusion challenges our ideas of landscape.  The images are at once recognisable as landscape but hold human qualities that speak of the human body and the decay of the human race.

 

The body as landscape

By creating a papier mache torso covered in dyed fabric which has undergone stitch manipulation textile artist, Louise Coxon evokes the decay of the human body as she reflects on the gradual ageing of her mother.  Coxon explains, "the earth ages and changes, as does the human body".[27]  Here the landscape becomes body.  The torso, draped in this decaying garment speaks of an embalmed mummified body and in doing so creates a landscape that is both personal and intimate. Bodyscape examines the landscape of the bodily form, charting the vicissitudes of time, and the inevitability of gradual deterioration and decay.

 

 "It’s all about the body for me” Libke says as she describes her work and like Coxon, Libke reflects on her mother's ageing as she battles with dementia. Libke however, explores not only the physical characteristics of ageing but the psychological decay of memory and memory loss.   Here memory creates a confrontation of the past with the present, a juxtaposition that points out just how badly things have decayed.  And so, leaves us with a reflection, a fragment of how things once were.

 

Like Libke and Coxon, Ingrid Singh works with the body, however from it’s obvious absence. With a fascination for shoes, Singh explores forms that modify human movement and hint at the body that may have once used them.  After majoring in Classical Tradition, Ingrid Singh expresses her deep interest in historical forms and artefacts with her work, Louis, no!. Believing that nothing is new, Singh uses motifs from the past to evoke associations with the present.  Here, a pair of silver shoes splashed with red silicon that evoke the period of Louis XIV and its grisly end, could also highlight today’s mass society with its own flaws.  They are the sort of shoes, “one could wear as a murdering aristocrat but then in turn…”[28] reminiscent of our own decaying landscape. 

 

Hentai Getai and Safety Dance 2 both allude to pornographic Japanese anime style and the pleasure in wearing shoes that bind.  Long laces and octopus tentacles wrap the wearer’s foot in a sensual and conscious act of bondage and doing so raises questions not only about limiting movement but being a slave to our environs and the impact this has on the decaying landscape.

 

Site specific works and environmental activism

Michael Norris and Sue Clarke's foreboding Old Poppet Head, is a photographic and sound installation based on a field study of the decaying mining sites around Captains Flat.  Sue Clarke explains, "Humans are now causing unprecedented mass extinction.  As artists we can respond to this by witnessing and reflecting either the disappearing natural world or the encroaching deadness that is replacing it.  For us, it is about the latter goal - to observe and interpret the dead and poisoned landscape that barely even supports insects, and where the human built structures are themselves crumbling".[29]   Contact microphone and near-field recordings of physical manipulations of the debris give a voice to its history. Sounds of rusty metal junk, wire, wooden beams and stones are processed to tell of their industrial past, deep under the ground.

 

By “gathering evidence”[30] like the work of John Wolseley as described by Sasha Grishin, Mike and Sue reflect the essence of the landscape and create a sense of place.  This almost forensic survey of the site is a powerful statement on the plight of the environment.  Here we see and hear a site abandoned in 1976, filled with toxic heaps of tailings, metal debris and the remains of the poppet head filled with rotting earth.  Sue’s detailed close-ups combined with Mike’s ambient sounds of dogs and birds evoke the beauty and ugliness of this desolate landscape.[31]

 

The “blunt savage imagery” of the “huge hole” created by an open cut mine in Paul Summerfield’s I had a dream of this reddish sepia garden… echoes the decayed landscape in Mike and Sue’s work.   Although the mine sits like an abyss or “scar on the landscape”,[32] the work itself is optimistic in nature.  Partly covered in ghostly plants, the damaged landscape is being transformed with regrowth before our eyes.  This barren, forgotten place once devoid of life will perhaps metamorphose into another place. The lost land finds a sense of place.

 

Also motivated by environmental concerns, Melinda Brouwer creates ceramic works that explore the continuing evolution of our surrounding landforms.  Based on the granite tors which cluster upon the surrounding Canberran mountaintops, Brouwer highlights the process of land formation around the Canberra region.  As the granite tors erode they transform into soil and ultimately help to create new life.  It is through the process of decay, we see new life bloom.  Brouwer captures the changes in colour and texture as they change with the passage of time and in doing so presents a reflective piece with an optimistic view.

 

Based on the decaying landscape found at the intersection of the Darling and Murray Rivers, Catherine Winter captures the “fragile river bed and the blue-green algae that has taken hold”.[33]  Spreading like “gangrene”[34], Winter’s dramatic, thickly applied brushstrokes extend over the canvas, splashing poisoned water, killing everything in its wake.  At first glance, the landscape seems beautiful even picturesque yet on further reflection the viewer is compelled to contemplate the plight of the landscape as it decays.  With this realisation the viewer’s response is often followed with guilt and a moment of acceptance.

 

Winter believes this acceptance is part of experiencing our response to decay.  Winter explains, “the essence of decay is a falling away of apparent beauty, the realisation that death and decay is always with us and that time swings like a pendulum between renewal and the new to death and decay”.[35]  By also exploring the landscapes of the New South Wales Alpine region as well as the drowning red gums of Western New South Wales, Winter studies the impacts of extreme climatic conditions on the landscape as well as mulga clearing and rising salt levels.

 

No other place in Australia has a more universal thread than our own suburbia.  The decay of suburbia is explored by Reid Bedlington’s work, Corrosive Littoral.  Here a deflated swimming pool, a “highly personal, nostalgic and devotional piece” for Reid, is used to not only represent the decay of suburbia but the decay of nature which occurs as a result of suburban construction.  Hung high, like a melting shrine alcove, this work plays to the old masters including el Greco and Giotto while paying homage to 1950’s and 60’s vintage styles.[36] Central to the work, is a painted torso of a man, positioned as though he is wading through the swimming pool.  Facing the viewer with eyes closed, he blindly follows what is thought of to be the suburban dream.

 

Although not a site specific work, Dash Kossman expresses a strong statement in environmental activism.  By fusing Baroque and mythological forms with abstract elements, Kossman reinterprets humanity’s fall from grace in the context of contemporary environmental devastation.  With the use of bold colour and geometric form, these paintings are divided into zones that “evoke the transcendent and earthly” as well as “convey the disintegration, destruction and decay of the natural environment”[37].

 

Decay and the waste land

The decay in landscape can also reflect the decay in civilisation itself.  Like TS Eliot’s The Waste Land, Camallie Guest highlights the moral decay associated with a society that has decayed from its core.  However, by combining text and names of historical dictators with peacock imagery, Guest skillfully creates tension.  Guest highlights the ego of the dictator, spreading their plumage, with the manipulative strategies used to persuade an already morally decayed public.  A pessimistic piece, Guest’s work is the anomaly in Landscapes of Decay. But this decayed landscape, reminiscent of Eliot’s waste land, as Lara Almarcegui explains “is important as places of possibility because one can only feel free in this type of land”.[38]  

 

Cabinet of curiosities

Displayed as a ‘cabinet of curiosities’, Random9 collective not only challenge what we perceive to be a landscape and the way it decays but the process by which we interact with it.  Like conceptual art, the viewer is vital.  Here, Random9 collective pays homage to the viewer and encourage the viewer to contemplate along with the artists.  In turn, the viewer becomes part of the collective voice, giving depth and meaning to the diverse ideas presented in this exhibition.  As Tommy Balogh explains, “its up to the viewer to open the cabinet, view it, analyse it and find out what it is about.  The viewer is given the choice to unpack the works.   It is as much the viewer as the work itself that makes the work what it is”.[39]

 

Like land artists before them, Random9 collective is intentionally not playing the gallery game or rather playing with our perception of it.  Instead of taking art into the landscape they are bringing it back into the museum.  Installed like a cabinet of curiosities the exhibition display challenges our ideas of gallery conventions.  Normally reserved for traditional ethnographic museum displays, the works are installed in ways in which the viewer must look around for them, look through them or up at them.  Moments of awkward interactive interpretation give way to moments of realisation and optimism.  The viewing experience becomes landscape itself and we view it through a wide prism of decayed light.

 

Lost land; found objects

“Museum objects constitute material ‘facts’ and evidence for stories to be told, and at the same time are now understood to mean different things to different people.”[40]  Just as the museum objects provide evidence of stories so too do the found objects used in Landscapes of Decay.  By incorporating found objects into their works artists such as Kalenjuk and Libke give new life to the detritus of our decaying landscapes.  As Sandra Dudley explains, “The English word ‘object’ is most often assumed to refer to something tangible, measurable, visible and limited…People think naturally of jugs, necklaces, fossils or swords as objects, but often find it hard to conceive similarly of something that is equally physically tangible but spatially far more extensive, such as a landscape”.[41]  Random9 collective brings the landscape into the gallery and shifts our focus from the decay to the reborn and rejuvenated.

Like Kirsten Wehner and Martha Sear’s curation of the Australian Journeys display at the National Museum of Australia, Random9 uses their works to ‘excite and inspire curiosity”.[42] Installed in the centre of the gallery space, Jason O’Brien’s work, Cabinet of Curiosity, imbues many of the core themes of this exhibition. “The cabinet that was constructed as a display for an institution and discarded”[43] is now displayed as an object itself.  Filled with a collection of decayed objects all with their own history shows the “residue of the consequence of change”[44] and evokes concepts of impermanence and rejuvenation.  By creating a memory capsule, indeed his own cabinet of curiosities, O’Brien encourages the viewer to stay with the work for a period of time, to reflect on where those objects may have come from and what they mean.  In doing so, O’Brien reinforces Balogh’s idea that the viewer of Landscapes of Decay is invited to “unpack the works for themselves” and indeed this is what Random9 has achieved.

Like a handful of sand thrown in the wind, a breath, a fading memory, a discarded photograph or a fallen leaf, landscapes are impermanent.  Lost in the moment, this impermanence gives an unexpected preciousness and vitality to the initial decay we see at first glance.  By incorporating found objects into their works, Random9 highlight this fragility and vitality in their works and in doing so create a sense of place and contribute to ongoing debates in environmental activism.

Differing perspectives give voice to different “ways of seeing” and Random9 respect the viewer and their viewing experience.  As Berger explains, “We never look at just one thing; we are always looking at the relation between things and ourselves.  Our vision is continually active, continually moving, continually holding things in a circle around itself, constituting what is present to us as we are”.[45]  The decaying landscape, be it the rising salt conditions of a river or the effects of ageing and dementia, question what it means to be human and how our lives effect those around us.  As, Simryn Gill states, “landscapes are a description of the way that each of us brings our own looking”[46].  It can also be argued, that landscapes of decay are a result of not only our own looking but the vision we create of ourselves. 

 

Winton suggests, “Over great passages of time the land has always made people anew… It retains a real, ongoing power to bend people out of shape, to transform them”[47].  After viewing Landscapes of Decay with its ideas and its questions, it is hoped the viewer will reflect and in doing so, their “habits and thoughts, [their] sensory register” will be altered.

 


Bibliography

Acconci, Vito, “About Gerrit Rietveld’s Zig Zag Stoel”, The Artist Project, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Season 3, artistproject.metmuseum.org.

 

Almarcegui, Lara in Nicholas Alfrey, Stephen Daniels, Joy Sleeman, “To the Ends of the Earth: Art and Environment”, Tate Research Publication Issue 17, Tate Gallery, United Kingdom, 11 May 2012, 6.

 

Annear, Judy, “Imperial Landscape”, Photography & Place Australian Landscape Photography 1970s until now, Art Gallery of New South Wales Education Kit, New South Wales: Art Gallery of New South Wales, 2011.

 

Artist Statement, Landscapes of Decay Catalogue, Belconnen Art Centre, 2015.

 

Berger, John. Ways of Seeing, Penguin Books, London, 1972.

 

Dibb, Mike in Sukhdev Sandhu, “Ways of Seeing opened our eyes to visual culture”, The Guardian, Saturday 8 September 2012.

 

Dudley, Sandra H. “Preface”, Museum Objects, Experiencing the Properties of Things, Routledge 2012, USA and Canada, xxviii.

 

Eliot, Thomas Stearns. The Waste Land. New York: Horace Liveright, 1922; Bartleby.com, 2011. www.bartleby.com/201/1.html#[19].


Gill, Simryn. “Photography & Place: Australian landscape photography 1970s until now”, Art Gallery of New South Wales Education Kit, New South Wales: Art Gallery of New South Wales, 2011, 12.

 

Grishin, Sasha. Sasha Grishin interview about Landmarks III on the work of John Wolseley, ABC 666 Radio, 19 May 2015.

 

Hanson, Jamie. “Tim Winton’s Island Home isn’t a Memoir, it’s a cultural call to arms”, The Guardian. Tuesday 13 October 2015.  http://www.theguardian.com/books/2015/oct/13/tim-wintons-island-home-isnt-memoir-its-a-cultural-call-to-arms

 

Turrell, James in Kristin Bauer, “Earthworks: Five Artists Sculpt the Landscape”, 21 September 2013, 4.

 

Winton, Tim. Island Home, A Landscape Memoir, Penguin Publishing Australia, 2015.


 

Random9 artists in Landscapes of Decay

Based in Canberra, Random9 was established in 2010 by a group of Canberra based artists to provide a forum for their work and exhibition opportunities. 

 

Artists included in the Landscapes of Decay exhibition include the following;

Tommy Balogh

Kimberly Barnes

Reid Bedington

Melinda Brouwer

Sue Clarke

Louise Coxon

Camallie Guest

Rebecca Hadley

Sonja Kalenjuk

Maria Klingner

Dash Kossman

Dianne Libke

Sam Lissman

Janet Long

Michael Norris

Jason O’Brien

Stephanie Alexandra Parker

Naomi Somerville

Ingrid Singh

Paul Summerfield

Catherine Winter

 



[1] Tim Winton, interviewed by Phillip Adams, Late Night Live, Radio National, 12 October 2015 http://mpegmedia.abc.net.au/rn/podcast/2015/10/lnl_20151012_2220.mp3

[2] Eliot, Thomas Stearns. The Waste Land. New York: Horace Liveright, 1922; Bartleby.com, 2011. www.bartleby.com/201/1.html#[19]

[3] The Waste Land Summary, Study Guide, enotes.com http://www.enotes.com/topics/waste-land

[4] Tim Winton, Island Home, A Landscape Memoir, Penguin Books Australia, 2015.

[5] Jamie Hanson, “Tim Winton’s Island Home isn’t memoir, it’s a cultural call to arms”, The Guardian, Tuesday 13 October 2015

[6] Judy Annear. “Imperial Landscape”, Photography & Place Australian Landscape Photography 1970s until now, Art Gallery of New South Wales Education Kit, New South Wales: Art Gallery of New South Wales, 2011, 3

[7] Simryn Gill. “Photography & Place: Australian landscape photography 1970s until now”, Art Gallery of New South Wales Education Kit (New South Wales: Art Gallery of New South Wales, 2011) 12

[8] Maria Klinger, “Artist statement”, e-mail to author, 15 October 2015

[9] Andy Goldsworthy in Clare Hurley’s, “Andy Goldsworthy and the limits of working with nature” in River and Tides: Andy Goldsworthy Working with Time, 30 May 2003

[10] Janet Long, “Artist Statement”, email to author, 11 October 2015

[11] Ibid.

[12] Ibid.

[13] Naomi Somerville, “Artist Statement”, Given to author, 2015

[14] Sonja Kalenjuk, “Artist Statement”, Given to author, 2015

[15] Ibid.

[16] Dianne Libke, “Artist Statement”, Given to author, 2015

[17] Rebecca Hadley, “Artist Statement”, Given to author, 2015

[18] John Berger, Ways of Seeing, Penguin Books, London, 1972

[19] Ibid., p. 9.

[20] Vito Acconci, “About Gerrit Rietveld’s Zig Zag Stoel”, The Artist Project, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Season 3, artistproject.metmuseum.org

[21] Mike Dibb, in Sukhdev Sandhu, “Ways of Seeing opened our eyes to visual culture”, The Guardian, Saturday 8 September 2012

[22] Stephanie Parker, “Artist Statement”, Given to author, 2015

[23] Tommy Balogh, “Artist Statement”, Given to author, 2015

[24] Ibid.

[25] Ibid.

[26] James Turrell, by Kristin Bauer, “Earthworks: Five Artists Sculpt the Landscape”, 21 September 2013, 4

[27] Louise Coxon, “Artist Statement”, Given to author, 2015

[28] Ingrid Singh, “Artist Statement”, Given to author, 2015

[29] Michael Norris and Sue Clarke, “Artist Statement”, Given to author, 2015

[30] Sasha Grishin, interviewed by Alex Sloan, ABC 666 Radio, 19 May 2015

[31] Michael Norris and Sue Clarke, “Artist Statement”, Given to author, 2015

[32] Paul Summerfield, “Artist Statement”, Given to author, 2015

[33] Catherine Winter, “Artist Statement”, Given to author, 2015

[34] Ibid.

[35] Catherine Winter, Email sent to author, 20 October 2015

[36] Reid Bedlington, “Artist Statement”, Given to author, 2015

[37] Dash Kossman, “Artist Statement”, Given to author, 2015

[38] Lara Almarcegui, by Nicholas Alfrey, Stephen Daniels, Joy Sleeman, “To the Ends of the Earth: Art and Environment”, Tate Research Publication Issue 17, Tate Gallery, United Kingdom, 11 May 2012, 6

[39] Tommy Balogh, “10 Questions”, email to author, 4 July 2015

[40] Sandra H. Dudley, “Preface”, Museum Objects, Experiencing the Properties of Things, Routledge 2012, USA and Canada, xxviii

[41] Ibid., p.7.

[42] Sandra H. Dudley, “Preface”, Museum Objects, Experiencing the Properties of Things, Routledge 2012, USA and Canada, xxviii 145  9

[43] Ibid.

[44] Jason O’Brien, “Artist Statement”, Given to author, 2015

[45] John Berger, Ways of Seeing, Penguin Books, London, 1972, 9

[46] Simryn Gill. “Photography & Place: Australian landscape photography 1970s until now”, Art Gallery of New South Wales Education Kit, New South Wales: Art Gallery of New South Wales, 2011, 12

[47] Tim Winton, Island Home, A Landscape Memoir, Penguin Publishing Australia, 2015, 28