Hello Flossie,

We didn’t receive any comments today however I have a question  for you. In the small gallery there is an arrangement of  ’books’ placed on plinths. Is there any significance in the way they are arranged, or is the choice of placement purely as a way of presentation? Cheers Jill

Hi Jill,

The eight artist’s books displayed as BOOKSHELF have many pages – some are transparent, some are collaged, some are hand drawn, etc. They are peculiar books because they are joined in a way that does not allow all the pages to turn of even be opened. These stand in a closed square as a metaphor to people who have some public areas and some private areas of their lives. When we know people it is rare to know everything about them…even if they are family. So, the arrangement of the eight books is both planned and haphazard, as is our ‘familiarity’ with others.

[caption id="attachment_456" align="aligncenter" width="360" caption="What would a book about your life show? Would it be words or pictures? English or other? Would it open completely or remain closed and private? What of you and your life will remain ‘on the shelf’ for future generations?"][/caption]

When faced with the seemingly insurmountable odds against becoming ‘an artist of note’, I frequently find myself at the point of despair. This happened again recently with my visit to Paddington where ‘real artists’ are presented daily to a buying public in the best spaces by the best galleries at the best five digit prices. When with immense bravery I inquired about whether I could send in a CV and some images for the Director’s perusal, I was met with a nonplussed stare. The cool receptionist tried her best not to be patronizing but what she said settled that. ‘Our Director only exhibits those who she herself has noticed on the art scene. Perhaps you could try the artist’s run initiatives and work at coming up through the ranks.’ This was actually good advice – for someone just starting out and in their mid-twenties. For me, on the other hand, it was immensely degrading. I am aware that I am not known in any capacity in NSW, but the presumption is that I am, therefore, not a quality artist. Should I believe this? No!

‘Use everything in your life to create art’ is what the playwright, Sidda, in The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood was told by her colleagues when her mother cruelly upstaged her once again.

Yet, in the still, wee hours of the night……..and I am awake, thinking…I could do without this eternal struggle.

What fun to see an artist take a jab at the art scene and then be bought by those very same people! Playtime is a satirical dip into the world of art with all its crass trashiness and its discriminating commodification. Here the artist is portrayed as both the sign and the signifier and as such, is easy pickings for each cynical diorama. I like it!

Using toys for art is not new. Consider Destiny Deacon and her dolls of social consciousness. Also, Emily Floyd’s ominous rabbits caught in art intrigue.

It’s all fun and games until someone….gets collected. For big money. I wonder if Macintyre’s art can maintain the edge of sincerity now that he is clearly endorsed and widely consumed? In fact, isn’t he himself now completely objectified instead of flippantly objecting? Still, I wish him well and applaud his droll yet refreshing sense of ‘joie de vivre’. Anyway, what’s not to like?