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canberra glassworks<br />

HOME<br />

IS<br />

WHERE<br />

THE<br />

HEAT<br />

IS<br />

26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Image: Sydney Noble Edwards, Canberra Powerhouse, circa 1920s Courtesy of David Paterson


<strong>Home</strong> <strong>is</strong> a very loaded word that can mean many things to different people: warmth;<br />

love; shelter; haven; personal space to name a few.<br />

In th<strong>is</strong> exhibition, I asked art<strong>is</strong>ts to respond to a place that <strong>is</strong> very familiar to <strong>the</strong>m;<br />

one <strong>where</strong> <strong>the</strong>y spend much of <strong>the</strong>ir waking time.<br />

Canberra Glassworks, previously known as <strong>the</strong> Kingston Powerhouse can<br />

accommodate 15 art<strong>is</strong>ts working in <strong>the</strong>ir own studios and at any one time 20 o<strong>the</strong>r<br />

art<strong>is</strong>ts might be working in <strong>the</strong> facility – in <strong>the</strong> hotshop; coldworking; sandblasting or<br />

using <strong>the</strong> kilns.<br />

The heritage building has been internally converted to be a working glass facility, one<br />

of <strong>the</strong> few in Australia. It has an international reputation for excellence and quality<br />

resources alongside several gallery spaces and a retail space.<br />

The art<strong>is</strong>ts in th<strong>is</strong> exhibition all have an affinity with <strong>the</strong> building and <strong>the</strong> facility, and<br />

<strong>the</strong> works in <strong>the</strong> exhibition show <strong>the</strong> diverse way <strong>the</strong>y feel about <strong>the</strong>ir sometimes fiery<br />

<strong>Home</strong> Away from <strong>Home</strong>. You can find <strong>the</strong>ir works scattered throughout <strong>the</strong> building<br />

in sites that <strong>the</strong>y have responded to.<br />

– Jane Cush, curator<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


ARTIST STATEMENTS<br />

Elizabeth Casling and Graeme King<br />

Through Make Your Own, CIT and Courses-on-Demand,<br />

members of <strong>the</strong> wider community are enabled to make glass<br />

works at Canberra Glassworks and, in that sense, <strong>the</strong>y’re all<br />

art<strong>is</strong>ts. Many are just one offs, but some people take advantage<br />

of Courses-on-Demand and <strong>the</strong> mentoring program to increase<br />

<strong>the</strong>ir skills and become independent hirers.<br />

Th<strong>is</strong> <strong>is</strong> a valuable aspect of <strong>the</strong> Glassworks community<br />

engagement and a selection of pieces made by <strong>the</strong>se art<strong>is</strong>ts<br />

would make an important contribution to an exhibition<br />

showcasing 10 years at <strong>the</strong> Canberra Glassworks. Graeme and I<br />

are two of <strong>the</strong>se art<strong>is</strong>ts and have each contributed a piece of work<br />

to th<strong>is</strong> exhibition.<br />

Ellen Collins<br />

A revolutionary aspect of Walter Burley Griffin’s design for<br />

Canberra was to have every house supplied with electricity,<br />

generated by <strong>the</strong> Kingston Powerhouse. It <strong>is</strong> difficult to believe<br />

that having a reliable electricity supply 24/7 has only been a<br />

convenience available in (many) cities for less than a century.<br />

These pieces reflect on <strong>the</strong> short life span of technological devices<br />

which are all too soon relegated to h<strong>is</strong>torical objects, often<br />

unrecogn<strong>is</strong>able to future generations. The use of transparent<br />

glass adds fragility and alludes to <strong>the</strong> transient nature of <strong>the</strong><br />

original object. I am inspired by <strong>the</strong> Vanitas still life genre that<br />

emerged in 17th Century Dutch paintings at <strong>the</strong> height of <strong>the</strong><br />

Dutch Empire. They were a didactic message to <strong>the</strong> masses about<br />

<strong>the</strong> transience of life and <strong>the</strong> dangers of <strong>the</strong> excesses of wealth<br />

and indulgence – a message highly appropriate to our own<br />

contemporary Western culture.<br />

Jacqueline Knight<br />

I am constantly fascinated by <strong>the</strong> phenomenological experience<br />

of using glass as a sculptural metaphor. I aim to speak to <strong>the</strong><br />

viewer by way of a v<strong>is</strong>ual experience that reflects <strong>the</strong>ir sense of<br />

self.<br />

Mounted on a wall, <strong>the</strong> wings represent <strong>the</strong> essence of flight<br />

yet <strong>the</strong>y are trapped, mid-flight and frozen in time. Th<strong>is</strong> in turn<br />

pushes <strong>the</strong> sculpture into <strong>the</strong> realm of architectural adornment.<br />

The adorned room becomes a metaphor for relationships and<br />

a current state of being. The materiality of glass offers many<br />

ambiguities resembling human interactions.<br />

Both humans and glass contain intriguing polarities; glass <strong>is</strong><br />

strong yet fragile, luscious yet cold, heavy yet allows light to pass<br />

through. In black lustre, <strong>the</strong> reflective glass mirrors <strong>the</strong> outside<br />

world, outwardly opposing everything that <strong>is</strong> presented to it.”<br />

Jennifer Kemarre Martiniello<br />

Prior to <strong>the</strong> creation of Lake Burley Griffin <strong>the</strong> area <strong>where</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />

Canberra Glassworks stands was a grassy landscape dotted with<br />

lowland native trees and shrubs. Close to <strong>the</strong> confluence of <strong>the</strong><br />

Molonglo River and Jerrabomberra Creek <strong>the</strong> area may have been<br />

occasionally flooded giving r<strong>is</strong>e to seasonal mudflats, yielding<br />

fertile soil for food species, including grains, seeds and bush<br />

fruits, enhancing its capacity to sustain traditional rotational<br />

habitation, camps, meetings and ceremonies. In <strong>the</strong>se two works<br />

I have sought to evoke some of <strong>the</strong> textures, colours, forms and<br />

life-cycle changes across seasons of <strong>the</strong> more than 30 species of<br />

native grasses, shrubs, trees , reeds and rushes that character<strong>is</strong>ed<br />

<strong>the</strong> landscape before non-Indigenous habitation. Th<strong>is</strong> diversity<br />

included multiple species of sedges, reeds, tussock and kangaroo<br />

grasses, eucalypts, casuarinas, Xanthorreas, kunzea, lomandras,<br />

grevilleas, bursarias, dianellas, acacias, she-oaks, wattles, tea<br />

trees and paperbarks which sustained more than 180 species of<br />

native and migratory birds, 34 of which are now endangered.<br />

Mark Elliot<br />

In <strong>the</strong> context of architecture (and town planning), I see <strong>the</strong><br />

tree as <strong>the</strong> improv<strong>is</strong>ational o<strong>the</strong>r - needed by humans to<br />

counterbalance <strong>the</strong> order of <strong>the</strong> built environment yet not always<br />

trusted for its independent mind - somewhat like an unruly art<strong>is</strong>t -<br />

comm<strong>is</strong>sioned to provide an unspecified artwork for a building.<br />

The tree <strong>is</strong> a wild thing, which can be partially but never entirely<br />

tamed with its tendency to sprout roots and branches in<br />

unexpected places. In ano<strong>the</strong>r sense, each tree <strong>is</strong> itself a piece of<br />

architecture which has grown as a unique variation on its own<br />

genetic plan and plays host to a vast array of inhabitants both<br />

above and below ground - many of whom ei<strong>the</strong>r contribute to, or<br />

challenge its integrity.<br />

I encounter th<strong>is</strong> tree each time I stay at <strong>the</strong> Glassworks Chapel<br />

<strong>where</strong> it stands sentinel (from a human viewpoint). Since reading<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Peter Wohlleben’s The Hidden Life of Trees, I have come to think<br />

of it as a lone voice: a strong and independent presence. Each<br />

morning I smell <strong>the</strong> intense aroma of Eucalyptus – (or <strong>is</strong> it possum<br />

p<strong>is</strong>s) as I walk barefoot around its base, my mind awakening to<br />

<strong>the</strong> raw sensation of gumnuts crushing underfoot.<br />

Emeirely Nucifora-Ryan<br />

Measured Spaces explores ideas of internal space through a<br />

series of three parts. These objects, through form, are vessels of a<br />

space or void. The circle represents a possibility of endless space<br />

through <strong>the</strong> expansion on all sides, while <strong>the</strong> materiality explores<br />

<strong>the</strong> oppositions between <strong>the</strong> roughness of concrete, <strong>the</strong> strength<br />

of metal, and <strong>the</strong> lightness and grace of glass.<br />

I am inspired by <strong>the</strong> rough masculinity of <strong>the</strong> Canberra<br />

Glassworks, which indicates it’s industrial use and age. The<br />

handmade quality of <strong>the</strong> lines inherent in <strong>the</strong> made forms, as<br />

well as <strong>the</strong> handmade quality of <strong>the</strong> drawn line, creates tension<br />

between <strong>the</strong> planed, mapped, and built architecture and<br />

industrial<strong>is</strong>m. My hand etched lines map and interact with <strong>the</strong><br />

light within <strong>the</strong> void, while also referencing <strong>the</strong> drawn, mapped<br />

and traced lines of architecture. To pay homage to <strong>the</strong> building<br />

and it’s reclaimed purpose, concrete and metal have been<br />

juxtaposed with blown glass.<br />

Meagan Jones, Lou<strong>is</strong> Grant<br />

One of Canberra’s first public buildings, <strong>the</strong> Kingston power<br />

house was built between 1913 and 1915. Designed by John Smith<br />

Murdoch and built just as <strong>the</strong> planned Capital arose. Th<strong>is</strong><br />

beautiful piece of Canberra h<strong>is</strong>tory <strong>is</strong> a narrative of industry,<br />

labour, man and machinery. Now housing <strong>the</strong> Canberra<br />

Glassworks, <strong>the</strong> building <strong>is</strong> a reclaimed gem open to <strong>the</strong> public<br />

and to art<strong>is</strong>ts, crafts people and designers alike. A transitory<br />

space, drenched in light, shrouded in h<strong>is</strong>tory and built into <strong>the</strong><br />

fabric of <strong>the</strong> heritage l<strong>is</strong>ted building. Th<strong>is</strong> collaborative work by<br />

two Canberra Glassworks V<strong>is</strong>itor Experiences colleagues, one<br />

a glass art<strong>is</strong>t, <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r an arts manager with a background in<br />

v<strong>is</strong>ual communication, <strong>is</strong> inspired by <strong>the</strong> industrial<strong>is</strong>ed textures,<br />

materials, qualities and h<strong>is</strong>tories of <strong>the</strong> building. Photographs<br />

taken by Meagan Jones, capture fleeting moments within <strong>the</strong><br />

building. Passages of movement are ba<strong>the</strong>d in lustrous light,<br />

<strong>the</strong>se details are highlighted through <strong>the</strong> etching onto industrial<br />

glass, by Lou<strong>is</strong> Grant.<br />

Lou<strong>is</strong> Grant<br />

The cast glass elements of th<strong>is</strong> piece were made in 2015 as part<br />

of a second year exploration into <strong>the</strong> void, <strong>the</strong> built environment,<br />

and urban decay. Originally large and small arcs sat vicariously<br />

balancing on fine edges or points, holding each o<strong>the</strong>r up. These<br />

studies have been reimagined for th<strong>is</strong> exhibition, responding to<br />

<strong>the</strong> original concept and to <strong>the</strong> new context.<br />

Cement has been cast onto <strong>the</strong> glass elements. Inspired by <strong>the</strong><br />

poured cement walls of <strong>the</strong> 1915 Kingston Powerhouse, <strong>the</strong><br />

moulds were created using wood panels. The wood grain <strong>is</strong> v<strong>is</strong>ible<br />

through out <strong>the</strong> cement elements, similar to that of <strong>the</strong> building.<br />

Fur<strong>the</strong>r more, to add contrast, parts of <strong>the</strong> cement have been<br />

spray painted, referencing graffiti that was left while <strong>the</strong> building<br />

was laid dormant.<br />

Th<strong>is</strong> work pays homage to <strong>the</strong> narrative and h<strong>is</strong>tory of <strong>the</strong><br />

building, while playing with <strong>the</strong> constructed forms of decay and<br />

<strong>the</strong> void.<br />

Lucy Palmer<br />

Lucy strives to util<strong>is</strong>e <strong>the</strong> unique qualities of kiln formed glass to<br />

create an illusory sense of d<strong>is</strong>tance and depth; depicting vast<br />

landscapes, expansive skies and <strong>the</strong> quiet horizon <strong>where</strong> <strong>the</strong> two<br />

d<strong>is</strong>solve. Her inspiration derives from an interest in <strong>the</strong> incredible<br />

potential of d<strong>is</strong>tance and space to draw <strong>the</strong> viewer away from<br />

<strong>the</strong>ir immediate physical environment and allow <strong>the</strong> mind to<br />

escape.<br />

Ngaio Fitzpatrick<br />

A Mandala <strong>is</strong> a metaphysical representation of <strong>the</strong> cosmos, or<br />

a microcosm of <strong>the</strong> universe. A compass <strong>is</strong> a type of mandala<br />

indicating directions on earth, useful as a tool of navigation, a<br />

symbol of guidance encompassing <strong>the</strong> known universe towards<br />

a type of enlightenment. The work responds to <strong>the</strong> architectural<br />

window, space and void revealing a secular quality found in <strong>the</strong><br />

elevated proportions, sweeping staircase and ever changing light<br />

conditions. Industrial steel components are often hidden behind<br />

building facades and <strong>the</strong> repurposed vintage glass <strong>is</strong> often hidden<br />

in collections, cabinets and op shops, both exposed in all <strong>the</strong>ir<br />

light filled glory in th<strong>is</strong> location.<br />

Nick Doran Adams<br />

Born and ra<strong>is</strong>ed in Ballarat, Victoria, Nick Adams was surrounded<br />

by h<strong>is</strong>tory and grew up v<strong>is</strong>iting one of <strong>the</strong> best collections of<br />

Australian Art at <strong>the</strong> Art Gallery of Ballarat. He studied glass<br />

at ANU, under Richard Whitely and Nadege Desgenetez,<br />

completing h<strong>is</strong> honours year in 2014.<br />

At a young age Nick was exposed to early handheld gaming<br />

devices, such as <strong>the</strong> Nintendo GameBoy. The characters in <strong>the</strong>se<br />

games are a bas<strong>is</strong> for inspiration of h<strong>is</strong> work. The images are a<br />

modern contrast to <strong>the</strong> ancient process which he used, mosaic<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


glass (murrini). Nick recogn<strong>is</strong>ed potential between <strong>the</strong> square<br />

pixels on a GameBoy screen and <strong>the</strong> stacked patterns made by<br />

<strong>the</strong> murrini.<br />

Nick completed <strong>the</strong> Emerging Art<strong>is</strong>ts Support Scheme residency<br />

at <strong>the</strong> Canberra Glassworks, <strong>where</strong> he developed a body of work<br />

about glitches out of grey scale to represent <strong>the</strong> lack of colour<br />

availability on <strong>the</strong> old original devices such as <strong>the</strong> Nintendo<br />

GameBoy. Still using <strong>the</strong> origins of <strong>the</strong> process as inspiration to<br />

help chose forms that work with <strong>the</strong> v<strong>is</strong>uals.<br />

Nikki Main<br />

#1: Molonglo on Tap<br />

My glass piece “Molonglo on Tap” <strong>is</strong> a nod to <strong>the</strong> often forgotten<br />

role of water in industry. The Kingston Powerhouse was cited on<br />

<strong>the</strong> banks of <strong>the</strong> Molonglo River to allow for fresh water to be<br />

drawn up for <strong>the</strong> coal fired boilers to create steam. I have used<br />

clear glass to represent ‘tap water’ – water refined for human use.<br />

The mold for <strong>the</strong> casting was made using an impression of <strong>the</strong><br />

Murrumbidgee riverbed from a property called Riverview, <strong>where</strong> I<br />

lived for twenty years.<br />

#2: Drawings 1-9 (3 in gallery, 6 in Engine Room)<br />

Drawing <strong>is</strong> an integral part of my art practice. It <strong>is</strong> a way of<br />

honing my skills at looking, playing with ideas and having a direct<br />

hand to eye experience. I see it as a major part of <strong>the</strong> “engine<br />

room” of my practice.<br />

I do many observational drawings and drawings that allow me<br />

to play with materials and effects. I find myself selecting drawing<br />

materials that mirror my glass making practice in some way.<br />

When my glass practice was primarily blown glass with powders<br />

I used to do a lot of ink drawings. Ink <strong>is</strong> an immediate and<br />

permanent material, similar to <strong>the</strong> application of glass powders<br />

in trails and blobs on my rock forms. Ink mirrors <strong>the</strong> movement of<br />

water, significant for glass works that refers to moving water.<br />

I am currently reigniting my glass casting practice and have<br />

shifted to using charcoal in my drawings. I use a base of charcoal<br />

powder and work back into it, much like hand surfacing or<br />

pol<strong>is</strong>hing glass. It <strong>is</strong> a much slower process with a focus on<br />

texture. For me <strong>the</strong> process of hand surfacing glass <strong>is</strong> very similar<br />

to <strong>the</strong> meditative process of applying charcoal powder and<br />

working back into it. The resultant product in both drawing and<br />

glass has a softness and stillness, a change from <strong>the</strong> gestural fluid<br />

quality of ink and my blown glass. I have been drawing on site at<br />

<strong>the</strong> steelworks in Port Kembla close to <strong>where</strong> I now live.<br />

Patricia Parker<br />

Transition conveys <strong>the</strong> journey of <strong>the</strong> first 100-years of <strong>the</strong><br />

Kingston Power House from <strong>the</strong> output of energy in <strong>the</strong> form of<br />

electricity to <strong>the</strong> containment of energy in <strong>the</strong> creation of hot and<br />

kiln-formed glass. As <strong>the</strong> building <strong>is</strong> heritage l<strong>is</strong>ted its evolution<br />

may see future iterations serving a different purpose. The external<br />

skeletal image of <strong>the</strong> building attempts to convey that journey.<br />

Rob Schwarz<br />

My work combines glass processes to create simple geometric<br />

forms that examine <strong>the</strong> idea of interlocking sections. Inspired by<br />

nature and architecture, I have built a system <strong>where</strong> single units<br />

come toge<strong>the</strong>r to create new sets of components expanding into<br />

larger systems that appear to grow continually. Th<strong>is</strong> studio-based<br />

enquiry has informed my research question: How can I use <strong>the</strong><br />

materiality of glass to provoke wonderment in <strong>the</strong> complexity and<br />

ingenuity of <strong>the</strong> amalgamation of elements in even <strong>the</strong> simplest<br />

of forms?<br />

Through <strong>the</strong> exploration of <strong>the</strong> properties of glass, I have focused<br />

on <strong>the</strong> way structures in nature, specifically <strong>the</strong> connection<br />

between soap bubbles, can inform structural design in<br />

architecture. I examine th<strong>is</strong> through <strong>the</strong> process of glass casting<br />

by joining multiple blown glass bubbles into structural forms that<br />

focus on <strong>the</strong> interfaces between <strong>the</strong> bubbles. I have identified and<br />

drawn compar<strong>is</strong>ons between various elements in nature, design<br />

and process to influence and guide my making and aes<strong>the</strong>tic<br />

dec<strong>is</strong>ions - man-made and natural phenomenon, glass blowing<br />

and casting, multiple components and interconnections.<br />

The formation of <strong>the</strong> systems I am creating relies on <strong>the</strong><br />

materiality of glass - clear, fluid and structural - and <strong>the</strong> ability to<br />

cast and fuse <strong>the</strong> bubbles to create <strong>the</strong> connections. The entire<br />

process relies on <strong>the</strong> connection between <strong>the</strong> two glass processes,<br />

blowing and casting; one cannot work without <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r.<br />

Structural Void, <strong>is</strong> an example of taking my exploration of systems<br />

and relating it to an ex<strong>is</strong>ting structure. The concrete corridor<br />

wall in The Glassworks, <strong>is</strong> a perfect example of <strong>the</strong> complexity<br />

in how things are made. Concrete has no form of itself, it had to<br />

be poured into a mold made from timbers that came from across<br />

<strong>the</strong> world. The texture of <strong>the</strong> wood <strong>is</strong> ingrained in <strong>the</strong> concrete’s<br />

surface. Constructing a building <strong>is</strong> an amalgamation of systems<br />

that have <strong>the</strong>ir own individual process before becoming part of<br />

<strong>the</strong> whole. By inserting my work into <strong>the</strong> space in th<strong>is</strong> wall, I am<br />

trying to highlight <strong>the</strong> features remaining from making process<br />

in <strong>the</strong> structure. The slight space between <strong>the</strong> glass form and <strong>the</strong><br />

ex<strong>is</strong>ting concrete reveals <strong>the</strong> organic textured side of <strong>the</strong> cast<br />

glass bubbles. Th<strong>is</strong> view suggests <strong>the</strong> idea of nature influencing<br />

an internal built structure. Even though we may have difficulty<br />

seeing or understanding <strong>the</strong> process of how it was made, it<br />

creates within us a sense of wonder.<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Rose-Mary Faulkner<br />

The body <strong>is</strong> simultaneously familiar and foreign to us- it <strong>is</strong> with<br />

us always, yet we only ever have a restricted personal viewpoint<br />

of ourselves. My work presents a study of my own body from th<strong>is</strong><br />

unique and subjective line of sight, as I aim to map and record<br />

<strong>the</strong> female figure through abstracted and layered photographic<br />

imagery in order to analyse form and surface. I investigate ways<br />

to observe and experience <strong>the</strong> body, expressed v<strong>is</strong>ually through<br />

soft dappled imagery and subtle colour evocative of feeling<br />

and sensation. My practice primarily explores decal imagery<br />

on glass. I firstly photograph sections of <strong>the</strong> body and abstract<br />

<strong>the</strong>se images through digital manipulation. Transferring <strong>the</strong>m to<br />

glass, I layer several related images before fur<strong>the</strong>r manipulating<br />

<strong>the</strong> surface and form through multiple fusings or cold working.<br />

Th<strong>is</strong> expands <strong>the</strong> imagery beyond <strong>the</strong> original photograph as<br />

<strong>the</strong> transparency of glass enhances layering for <strong>the</strong> purpose of<br />

depth and overlapping, which enables me to util<strong>is</strong>e <strong>the</strong> specific<br />

materiality of glass to suggest bodily form. I also enjoy <strong>the</strong><br />

process of marking <strong>the</strong> surface, tracing <strong>the</strong> lines of <strong>the</strong> images to<br />

become almost like a topographical map. Through th<strong>is</strong> work I am<br />

also able to consider <strong>the</strong> role of <strong>the</strong> gaze and express a female<br />

perspective on <strong>the</strong> female form.<br />

Ruth Oliphant<br />

Th<strong>is</strong> works looks at how <strong>the</strong> changing light throughout <strong>the</strong> day<br />

interacts with <strong>the</strong> building that houses Canberra Glassworks.<br />

Through th<strong>is</strong> interaction it marks <strong>the</strong> passage of time. I have<br />

spent many hours at Canberra Glassworks, at all different<br />

times of <strong>the</strong> day. I have observed <strong>the</strong> changing light through <strong>the</strong><br />

windows of <strong>the</strong> Engine Room over many years. Th<strong>is</strong> work <strong>is</strong> about<br />

<strong>the</strong> relationship I have built with th<strong>is</strong> space over <strong>the</strong> years and<br />

how it <strong>is</strong> constant but always changing.<br />

Windows have always played an important role in my work and<br />

in th<strong>is</strong> exhibition <strong>the</strong>y act as <strong>the</strong> threshold between <strong>the</strong> inside and<br />

outside world, through which change happens.<br />

Scott Chaseling<br />

Scott Chaseling’s practice reveals sculptures that represents a<br />

liminal space between a sense of place and one of being lost.<br />

Chaseling presents art works relating to Heterotopia (a place<br />

between Utopia and Dystopia).<br />

By constructing with glass and mirrors, <strong>the</strong>se artworks<br />

demonstrate that it <strong>is</strong> possible to establ<strong>is</strong>h a liminal space that<br />

cons<strong>is</strong>ts only of a state of becomingness. Liminality, in th<strong>is</strong><br />

application, <strong>is</strong> character<strong>is</strong>ed by <strong>the</strong> unsuspecting, abstraction<br />

and innocence.<br />

The sculptures and wall works reveal a point of transition, ei<strong>the</strong>r<br />

through materials that are in a liminal process or by exploiting <strong>the</strong><br />

viewer’s v<strong>is</strong>ual perception. Th<strong>is</strong> temporal shift of reading, along<br />

with a change in material expectations, will allow <strong>the</strong> viewer to<br />

participate with <strong>the</strong> sculpture via <strong>the</strong> introduction of <strong>the</strong>ir own<br />

interpretation/s.<br />

Simon Maberley<br />

Clean air and clean water make sense. The notion that you<br />

can make coal “clean” <strong>is</strong> an oxymoron. The damage to our<br />

environment caused by coal mining and coal fired power<br />

generation clearly contradict <strong>the</strong> assertion that “coal <strong>is</strong> good for<br />

humanity”. As we reaching a tipping point, <strong>the</strong> balancing act <strong>is</strong><br />

becoming harder and harder maintain. What can you live without<br />

– cheap power or clean air, water and a stable climate?<br />

Sophia Emmett<br />

For <strong>the</strong> glassblower, <strong>the</strong> breath – blown into molten glass – <strong>is</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />

material and <strong>the</strong> process of art making, but whatever our calling,<br />

we take for granted our right to brea<strong>the</strong> clean air. Humans<br />

brea<strong>the</strong> on average twenty-five breaths a minute, 8.5 million<br />

breaths a year, or six hundred seventy-two million, seven hundred<br />

and sixty-eight thousand over an eighty year lifetime.<br />

Our breath – <strong>the</strong> air we brea<strong>the</strong> – links us to <strong>the</strong> ancestral past<br />

and <strong>the</strong> generations of <strong>the</strong> future. It <strong>is</strong> our most precious tenure,<br />

though we have no possession of it: breath <strong>is</strong> only a means to an<br />

end, and <strong>the</strong> end of breath <strong>is</strong> <strong>the</strong> end of us.<br />

Twenty-five breaths draws awareness to <strong>the</strong> ephemeral and<br />

inv<strong>is</strong>ible signature of a single breath. The cloud-like array of<br />

glass bubbles were blown in <strong>the</strong> hot-shop by twenty-five people<br />

aged between four and ninety-two. The height at which <strong>the</strong><br />

transparent ‘lung prints’ are suspended reg<strong>is</strong>ters <strong>the</strong> standing<br />

height of each subject, creating a transparent portrait of <strong>the</strong><br />

individual and a ghost of <strong>the</strong> group.<br />

The lifetime rhythm of inhaling and exhaling enters us into an<br />

unspoken contract, <strong>the</strong> cost of exchange mostly ignored. Gasping<br />

represents our instinctive greed for resources: air, water, fuel,<br />

material. There <strong>is</strong> a fine line between drawing breath and sucking<br />

<strong>the</strong> life out of our shared inheritance. We may sigh in despair, or<br />

we may take a deep breath and take a bit less.<br />

Stephen Skillitzi<br />

Stephen Skillitzi’s art<strong>is</strong>tic aspiration to become an innovative<br />

solo maker in <strong>the</strong> Crafts Movement, focusing firstly on Clay <strong>the</strong>n<br />

Glass, was initiated 55 uninterrupted years ago in 1960 at age<br />

13 via h<strong>is</strong> homemade solo-use electric-kiln and ceramics studio.<br />

h<strong>is</strong> diverse ongoing career embraced 1/ Academia:-studying//<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


lecturing/demonstrating/course initiating/mentoring (both in<br />

USA 1967-1970 and Australia 1970 to present); and 2/ Glass<br />

(blown and/or cast: for exhibition, corporate, home-wares<br />

projects and comm<strong>is</strong>sions); and 3/ Non-commercial (street<br />

<strong>the</strong>atre/performance, environmental installations, playable<br />

mixed-media games). Following h<strong>is</strong> brief pioneering involvement<br />

in <strong>the</strong> 1960’s USA university-centered Glass ‘rena<strong>is</strong>sance’, he<br />

returned to Sydney to establ<strong>is</strong>h <strong>the</strong> very first independent furnacefocussed<br />

Glass Studio in Australia springing from a 4/1971 Craft<br />

Board grant (its first for Glass). Obviously o<strong>the</strong>r mainstream<br />

glass products, techniques and factory traditions were already in<br />

place. Since <strong>the</strong>n o<strong>the</strong>r craft-art<strong>is</strong>ts have fundamentally matured<br />

and broadened <strong>the</strong> nation’s Studio Glass profile propelling it into<br />

justified international prominence, eclipsing its humble ‘Studio’<br />

origins of 1971. That multi-faceted Aussie Glass h<strong>is</strong>tory (which<br />

has come to dominate <strong>the</strong> Crafts scene) was 1/ outlined by<br />

Skillitzi, h<strong>is</strong> scholarly paper <strong>is</strong> online, and presented at <strong>the</strong> 2009<br />

conference of Ausglass, (<strong>the</strong> ‘backbone’ association supporting<br />

Aussie glass activities since 1978).Skillitzi has attended every<br />

bi-annual conference; and 2/ been documented by him in <strong>the</strong><br />

“Eminent Persons Program” archived at <strong>the</strong> National Library,<br />

Canberra. Skillitzi’s contribution to Australian Studio Glass was<br />

acknowledged via ‘The Ausglass Medal’ for 2015.<br />

of stitching. Th<strong>is</strong> fur<strong>the</strong>r exploits <strong>the</strong> complex dichotomy of <strong>the</strong><br />

‘speaking subject’ narrative in my artworks. Abject experiences<br />

are d<strong>is</strong>pelled and imbued in <strong>the</strong> material when <strong>the</strong> objects<br />

unexpectedly tears, shreds, pulls and breaks apart so it <strong>is</strong> on <strong>the</strong><br />

edge of falling apart, or holding itself toge<strong>the</strong>r, paradoxically<br />

giving it strength and tenacity.<br />

1<br />

Pâte de verre <strong>is</strong> French for glass paste<br />

2<br />

Kay Moloney Caball, Kerry Girls: Emigration and <strong>the</strong> Earl Grey Scheme (The H<strong>is</strong>tory<br />

Press, 2014). The Kerry Girls, (2014) <strong>is</strong> in-depth account of <strong>the</strong> Ir<strong>is</strong>h famine <strong>is</strong> it affected<br />

Co. Kerry in sou<strong>the</strong>rn Ireland, an over view of <strong>the</strong> Earl Scheme. It includes details case<br />

studies and witness accounts which follow some of young Kerry female famine orphans<br />

that were transported to Australia to work as indentured domestic servants, as part of<br />

<strong>the</strong> scheme.<br />

Ursula Halpin<br />

Working between Ireland and Australia my v<strong>is</strong>ual arts practice <strong>is</strong><br />

character<strong>is</strong>ed by a deep relationship with my homeland in Ireland,<br />

my Ir<strong>is</strong>h language and culture. I forge connections between my<br />

artwork and Ir<strong>is</strong>h literature that evoke <strong>the</strong> textile traditions of<br />

my childhood while exploring <strong>the</strong> emotional implications of my<br />

material. My v<strong>is</strong>ual vocabulary uses a pâte de verre 1 technique,<br />

a-kin to lace making as I ‘stitch’ my work slowly and meticulously,<br />

summoning and weaving <strong>the</strong> h<strong>is</strong>tories of vulnerable women<br />

into my work, mimicking <strong>the</strong> domestic technique and decorative<br />

household objects.<br />

I have been creating artwork in response to research carried out<br />

on residency at Canberra Glassworks in April of th<strong>is</strong> year. While<br />

<strong>the</strong>re I uncovered <strong>the</strong> fates of some of <strong>the</strong> Ir<strong>is</strong>h famine orphans<br />

that were part of <strong>the</strong> Earl Grey Scheme 2 that saw up to 4000<br />

thousand young Ir<strong>is</strong>h women ages 9-17 sent to Australia from<br />

Ir<strong>is</strong>h workhouses as indentured domestic servants from 1848-<br />

1852.<br />

My chosen material, <strong>is</strong> both strong and fragile. The tension<br />

between <strong>the</strong> ease my material can break and strength of its<br />

structure echo <strong>the</strong> narratives of my work; vulnerable, resilient and<br />

survivors of abject experiences.<br />

Using <strong>the</strong> serendipitous nature of my kiln firings, <strong>the</strong> initial<br />

element of control <strong>is</strong> cast aside in subsequent firings as my objects<br />

are slumped, stretched and torn, making v<strong>is</strong>ible <strong>the</strong> undoing<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018<br />

Catalogue of works


Ngaio Fitzpatrick<br />

Glass Mandala, 2017<br />

glass, steel<br />

150 x 150 cm<br />

$2,800<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Sophia Emmett<br />

Twenty Five Breaths, 2016<br />

blown glass, mesh<br />

dimensions variable<br />

POA<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Ursula Halpin<br />

Náire Orthu, 2017<br />

pate de verre<br />

dimensions variable<br />

POA<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Simon Maberley<br />

Clean Coal?, 2017<br />

glass, coal, water, stainless steel<br />

60 x 15 x 20 cm<br />

$1,890<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Ruth Oliphant<br />

Crest, 2015<br />

kiln formed glass<br />

68 x 36 x 0.8 cm<br />

$2,600<br />

Ruth Oliphant<br />

Passage of Time 2, 2015<br />

kiln formed glass<br />

78 x 42 x 1 cm<br />

$2,000<br />

Ruth Oliphant<br />

Golden Hour, 2015<br />

kiln formed glass<br />

68.5 x 37.5 x 0.8 cm<br />

$2,600<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Ruth Oliphant<br />

Half Light, 2015<br />

kiln formed glass<br />

68 x 37.5 x 1 cm<br />

$2,600<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Jacqueline Knight<br />

Flight, 2017<br />

hot-sculpted glass, steel<br />

30 x 80 x 15 cm<br />

$3,300<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Scott Chaseling<br />

A Day At <strong>Home</strong>, 2017<br />

coffee and wine on paper<br />

40 x 60cm<br />

$350<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


John White<br />

Needle in a Haystack, 2017<br />

kiln formed glass, steel, timber and glass base<br />

90 x 45 x 35 cm<br />

$11,500<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Nikki Main<br />

Meanderings: <strong>the</strong> Engine Room of an Art<strong>is</strong>t Practice<br />

Contemplate,<br />

2017<br />

Taking a line for a walk 1,<br />

2017<br />

Caught in Thought,<br />

2017<br />

Generate,<br />

2017<br />

Taking a line for a walk 2,<br />

2017<br />

The Heat <strong>is</strong> on,<br />

2017<br />

charcoal powder,<br />

charcoal, paper<br />

53.3 x 43.4 cm<br />

$300<br />

charcoal powder,<br />

charcoal, paper<br />

53.3 x 43.4 cm<br />

$300<br />

charcoal powder,<br />

charcoal, paper<br />

55.9 x 43.8 cm<br />

$300<br />

charcoal powder,<br />

charcoal, paper<br />

55.9 x 43.8 cm<br />

$300<br />

charcoal powder,<br />

charcoal, paper<br />

53.3 x 43.4 cm<br />

$300<br />

charcoal powder,<br />

charcoal, paper<br />

53.3 x 43.4 cm<br />

$300<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Nikki Main<br />

Light Bulb Moment, 2017<br />

charcoal powder, charcoal, paper<br />

53.3 x 43.4 cm<br />

$300<br />

Nikki Main<br />

Outpouring, 2017<br />

charcoal powder, charcoal, paper<br />

53.3 x 43.4 cm<br />

$300<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Nikki Main<br />

Dam Plan, 2017<br />

charcoal powder, charcoal, paper<br />

53.3 x 43.4 cm<br />

$300<br />

Nikki Main<br />

Molonglo on tap, 2017<br />

cast glass<br />

30 x 30 x 3 cm<br />

$1,800<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Jennifer Kemarre Martiniello<br />

Confluence Landscape #1, 2017<br />

blown glass, murrine<br />

38 x 13.5 cm<br />

$6,000<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Rob Schwartz<br />

Structural Void, 2017<br />

cast glass<br />

53 x 46 x 15cm<br />

$8,500<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Meagan Jones<br />

and Lou<strong>is</strong> Grant<br />

Transitory Spaces 1, 2017<br />

etched glass, photo print, ply<br />

42 x 30 x 1.2 cm<br />

$250 each ($900 set of four)<br />

Meagan Jones<br />

and Lou<strong>is</strong> Grant<br />

Transitory Spaces 2, 2017<br />

etched glass, photo print, ply<br />

42 x 30 x 1.2 cm<br />

$250 each ($900 set of four)<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Meagan Jones<br />

and Lou<strong>is</strong> Grant<br />

Transitory Spaces 3, 2017<br />

etched glass, photo print, ply<br />

42 x 30 x 1.2 cm<br />

$250 each ($900 set of four)<br />

Meagan Jones<br />

and Lou<strong>is</strong> Grant<br />

Transitory Spaces 4, 2017<br />

etched glass, photo print, ply<br />

42 x 30 x 1.2 cm<br />

$250 each ($900 set of four)<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Lou<strong>is</strong> Grant<br />

Built Decay, 2017<br />

cast glass, concrete<br />

dimensions variable<br />

POA<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Nick Doran Adams<br />

Single Player (white), 2016<br />

blown and carved glass, murrine<br />

20 x 12 cm<br />

$1,500<br />

Scrambled Egg (grey), 2016<br />

blown and carved glass, murrine<br />

20 x 12 cm<br />

$1,500<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Rose-Mary Faulkner<br />

Traced IV, 2017<br />

kilnformed glass, decals<br />

each panel 12 x 9 x 0.7 cm<br />

$560<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Emeirely Nucifora-Ryan<br />

Measured Spaces, 2017<br />

blown glass, cast concrete, nickel silver<br />

dimensions variable<br />

NFS<br />

Lucy Palmer<br />

Atmos, 2017<br />

kiln formed glass, aluminium<br />

20 x 10 x 6 cm<br />

$400<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Elizabeth Casling and<br />

Graeme King<br />

Antarctica, 2015<br />

kiln formed glass<br />

33 x 35 x 9 cm<br />

NFS<br />

Graeme King<br />

Curved, 2014<br />

kiln formed glass<br />

39 x 12 x 1.7cm<br />

NFS<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Elizabeth Casling<br />

Divergent on black, 2017<br />

kiln formed glass<br />

20 x 20 x 3cm<br />

NFS<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Ellen Collins<br />

untitled #1, 2017<br />

cast glass<br />

9 x 6.5 x 5.5 cm<br />

$380<br />

untitled #4, 2017<br />

cast glass<br />

9 x 6.5 x 5.5 cm<br />

$380<br />

untitled #2, 2017<br />

cast glass<br />

9 x 6.5 x 5.5 cm<br />

$380<br />

untitled #5, 2017<br />

cast glass<br />

9 x 6.5 x 5.5 cm<br />

$380<br />

untitled #3, 2017<br />

cast glass<br />

9 x 6.5 x 5.5 cm<br />

$380<br />

untitled #6, 2017<br />

cast glass<br />

9 x 6.5 x 5.5 cm<br />

$380<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Mark Elliot<br />

A Mind of It’s Own, 2017<br />

blown, hot-sculpted and sandblasted borosilicate glass<br />

50 x 30 x 30 cm<br />

$4,900<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Sui Jackson<br />

Memory Drift, 2017<br />

crystal<br />

dimensions variable<br />

$3,000<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Stephen Skillitizi<br />

The Confrontation, 2017<br />

photo print<br />

60 x 70cm<br />

NFS<br />

Stephen Skillitizi<br />

The Ventriloqu<strong>is</strong>t, 2017<br />

photo print<br />

60 x 70 cm<br />

NFS<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Sydney Noble Edwards<br />

Kingston Powerhouse, 1914<br />

glass, photo print<br />

courtesy of David Paterson<br />

NFS<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Wendy Dawes<br />

Untitled, 2017<br />

cotton, Aida, embroidery hoop<br />

16 x 16 cm<br />

POA<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Patricia Parker<br />

Transition, 2017<br />

kiln formed glass<br />

49 x 24 x 12 cm<br />

$1,400<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


Exhibition partners<br />

Canberra Glassworks <strong>is</strong> supported by <strong>the</strong> ACT Government through artsACT and <strong>the</strong> Australian Government through <strong>the</strong> Australia Council, its arts funding and adv<strong>is</strong>ory body.<br />

Major Sponsor Exhibition accomodation partner Wine partner<br />

Photographs: Adam McGrath<br />

HOME IS WHERE THE HEAT IS | 26 OCTOBER 2017 TO 14 JANUARY 2018


canberraglassworks.com<br />

11 Wentworth Ave, Kingston ACT 2604<br />

T 02 6260 7005<br />

E contactus@canberraglassworks.com<br />

opening hours<br />

Wed to Sun 10am to 4pm

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