Environmental Artists coming out of the Shadows

Vicki West's words made from dodda vine hover above the thousands of people whose focus is the main stage of the Marion Bay Falls Festival. This is art that embraces it's location and, if you are open to it, introduces interesting discussion and insight. The punters may not understand the meaning of the words lome merker (deep water) leaturi (wave) gunta (earth) and karnelare (echo), but this work can be appreciated as it is suspended against the backdrop of the hills, bush and coastline. There is a lovely layering and irony about these Aboriginal words hanging so comfortably above the land that was once inhabited by another and is now covered in a swarm of music lovers.

Vicki West's Water Waves Earth Echoes

Ralf Haertel's very tactile &
 luscious Earthpoles

Unlike the safety of a white walled gallery, the paddocks, waterways and trees of the Marion Bay property that accommodates the Falls Festival does not have the usual cues that guide the audience. Aboriginal artist, Vicki West is one of 12 environmental artists who produced artwork that sat in and around the 15 000 festival goers. Such festivals were once purely music, but in the last 5-10 years they have incorporated an arts program with performance, visual arts and installations.

The challenges in developing art that can be included in such events must be huge. The OH & S issues alone could stimey most, but then there is the added acknowledgement that the majority of individuals attending these events are tanked on alcohol and drugs. This represents a huge issue for artists wishing to engage with individuals within the crowd without encouraging the destruction of artworks. How do they do it and what is the intention? And how does environmental art fit into this context? It's one thing to develop an artwork that is bright, shiny and engaging, but does message laden and conscience driven art have a place at such events.

Talking Skirt (Prototype)

Libraries are amongst the most magical of places. Indeed, they have changed somewhat to incorporate the shifts in the way we access information, and the way we share it, evolving into information hubs and network centres; but they still have books; books that despite content, have dimension and weight. Evident in the minuscule mangling of pages and bindings lay the history of hundreds, if not thousands, of inquisitive, interested borrowers who unconsciously caressed each leaf corner with certain sensuality, until the words ran out and the page got flicked. Jilted maybe, returned most likely; the books I speak of are compressed into rank and file, but if we find what we want – we can reach out and touch it.