Swoon, in Australia

Swoon, Thekla

Metro Gallery, Melbourne
February 2011

I had the privilege of going home to Australia for the first time in 2 years to work with Callie (aka Swoon) on her first solo exhibition down under. It was the perfect opportunity to escape the chilly and heartbroken blues of February; a chance to work really hard, be around my people, and get some sun. All of which I soaked up and relished.

'Alixa & Naima'

We powered through jetlag by working 10-12 hour days, creating an immersive installation out of cardboard, broken doors, elaborate papercuts and large linoleum block prints.

Beautiful install mess...

I learnt so much and felt very inspired. (If I could do my Fortune Garden installation again, it'd be so different.) Callie called the show Thekla, from Italo Calvino's book 'Invisible Cities'. Thekla is the imaginary city that is forever being built.

'Ben Wolf'

It was strange to be in Melbourne but somehow absent as well. Most of my time was absorbed by the install. I had to steal little moments with friends. I'd get back to Jase and Bec's apartment late at night and everyone would be asleep. So I took to waking up at 6am to hang out before work. Hot air balloons would float over the city as the sun came up, and we'd be cracking jokes and talking about deep, intellectual shit. The kettle was always on and I'd eat Arnotts biscuits for breakfast out on the back porch. I couldn't have been any happier.

We finished the install the day before the opening. I wanted to get my hair cut in Footscray at my favourite salon, and maybe get some Vietnamese coffee. Rollo, Texta and Caleb came with me and we did a tour of the markets and my favourite dollar stores. The chick at 888 remembered me. She used to do all my perms. "I came all the way from New York to get my haircut here!" I said. She expertly hacked away. "Oh. You left Footscray?" Nothing impresses that girl.

The opening of the exhibition was my final night in Melbourne. It poured with rain but the gallery was packed and spilled out onto the street. My friends were scolded for making out on what they thought was the Victorian Premier's car, but was in fact a police escort's. All the stuffy Armadale folks thought the whole installation was 'very cutting edge'. Callie smashed her wine glass on the lecturn making the Premier jump and the gallery director wince, and then we were done. We had pizzas, roo steaks, pastas and chips up the road, and I felt really sad to be packing my suitcase later that night.

'Monica'