Dear Masato, all at once

Walking into Dear Masato, all at once at the Margaret Lawrence gallery you are bombarded with cluttered arrangements of monitors, canvases, cardboard cut-outs, hanging canvas, hanging sculpture, piles of photocopied paper and debris. The walls are sparse, accommodating a few paintings and monitors, the majority of the work is seemingly dumped in piles on large, flat plinths. The audio from the eight or so monitors have come together to create a cacophonic din. The artworks are unlabelled save for a few canvases that are propped up on plinths leaving the artist’s name visible on the back, scrawled in pencil.

Lisa Radford, who both curates and exhibits in the show, chooses a group of artists to respond to the broad theme of material relationships to politics. Radford then asks the artists to nominate the work of another artist to sit alongside their piece. This inclusion of the exhibiting artist into the curatorial decision-making process heightens the haphazard nature of the show. There is a relinquishing of control on Radford’s part, blurring the lines between curator and collaborator.

The exhibition asks a lot of its audience. It takes a little navigating to find method in Radford’s madness but after some aimless wandering and flicking through the equally difficult-to-navigate catalogue (nineteen loose, double-sided prints held together by a paper clip) lines of communication start forming in the clusters of artworks. One cluster weaves together works which are emotionally charged, intimate and autobiographical including Jenny Watson’s ‘Boy With Blue Guitar’ (1992). Another cluster references pop culture’s intersection with art and nature which includes Blair Trethowan’s ‘Love 2005’ (2005). Another cluster with Tony Garifalakis’ ‘Veiled Threat #2’ (2011) speaks of time, decay and labour. Another cluster conveys the human and political interaction with art – Ron Robertson-Swann’s ‘Vault’ (1978) being one such example. Another cluster with Jon Campbell’s ‘Weak As Piss’ (2009) hanging from the ceiling reflects on ideas of contemporary Australian culture. Another cluster (last one I promise!) which includes Nikos Pantazopoulos’ ‘is blue and self reflective’ (2010) speaks of the historical line upon which contemporary art sits. There are a few pieces in this room that really need a quiet and contemplative space such as ‘Freunde’ (2012) by Matthew Greaves, a single channel video of Dr. Phillip Nitschke reading aloud from Fredrick Nietzsche’s ‘Twilight of the Idols’ – the audio on this is completely over-powered by the other video installations.

And that is just the front room.

The back room is almost empty in comparison to the rest of the gallery. Two very distinct series of paintings are hung across from one another. Unlike the pieces in the front room, there is a label naming the artists and their artworks: Lisa Radford’s ‘Blankets and Bureaucracy’ (2014) and Katie Rule’s ‘Untitled’ (2013). Admittedly having some space to breathe is welcome, although after the whirlwind of the front room, it is completely dislocating. The choice to give so much space to only two artists (one of who is the curator of the exhibition) is confusing. As a result, I find myself compelled to spend less time in this area and care less about the dialogue between these two artists.

Overall Dear Masato, all at once makes some really brave and interesting curatorial decisions. The cluttered, dislocated arrangements cleverly mirror the fine line between collaboration and influence in that they are not linear, there is no map indicating that you start at A and end at B. It is a messy, exciting jungle of ideas that intersect, contrast and align with one another.

Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

Dear Masato, all at once

Margaret Lawrence, 40 Dodds Street, Southbank
www.vca.unimelb.edu.au/gallery
7 March – 5 April