Illusion is the shift in light
The phantom limb
The sun’s warmth
post-embrace
It's the bright white on the sea of dark blue
The narrowing of a bridge between real and true
Illusions are how much you’re willing to give away
The privilege of the artist is to bestow these gifts upon us
But a word of warning, illusions don't exist without caution
They ask that you take a knee on entry, and ponder these questions curiously
what is the direction of the light, if it has multiple sources?
how does the ocean bare its white teeth?
what way does the clock tick when you are in the present but living in the past?
Find your hook and they’ll slowly reel you in
If you're willing to walk the tightrope, and you don't mind falling in
Then, welcome
They echo vertigo
I'm looking at, and over a summit
I'm walking a tightrope on a curb side drawing
I'm falling
down or through?
They’re portraits, each more than the width of two people
Horizons are lost, but not missed
The details give texture
an elephant skin - stretched, but thicker
They’re cut-off and cut-out scenes
of sepia and black and white dreams
Shapes dismount, and triple-axel!
and they land the follow-through
There are lines, hovering the borders
in a manic order
They suggest premeditation
practice cuts that missed the mark
Other lines tell ancient stories
like tree rings
traces and shadows
remove and reveal stories you can't see
The portraits now appear as layered portals
rolodex textures
time stamp clock-ins
dot grain mastering
If I walk into one do I come out of the other?
do I come out at all?
More vertigo sets in
shapes appear to be shadowing
hollowing out in the corners, then stretching to the edging
These crafts now echo life rafts, with masts
sent to rescue those that have fallen through
I blink to clear my eyes
smoke and mirrors
I'm caught by surprise
I paused for a second
these cut-outs could be windows
or are they censored? removed by big-brothers ghost
This is collage as a drawing practice
forming and de/forming
creation from the masses
These were once landscapes to be envied
collected from coffee table books, and other bourgeois activities
Tea stained memories that are anchored to an aesthetic
These were made by the hands of a collector, a relic hunter, an artefact finder
New landscapes, not born, but grown
-
Izabela Pluta
Shadowing #4-5, 2023
National Photography Prize 2024
Murray Art Museum Albury
Image Jeremy Weihrauch
We have multiple dreams per night
They’re unknown masses surging to the shore
Like waves crashing, these images are in free-fall
then, freeze frame
I'm presented with six complex images
They hold me back
They signal one more lap
They offer caution
then go off track
They’re more auspicious, than superstitious
It's a choose your own adventure
It's a meet your maker
A caldron of smoke has manifested
Reality warps in the background
landslides on a mountain side
An enchanted apple, a good vs evil, a mutated vessel
Flames concealed, leaves suspended
Shelves have bred food that won't perish
Hibernation, and set for the winter
Locked up, left to splinter
Suspended conch, island lost
I can hear the layers creak
the sound of the car shriek
the leaves frozen in breath
the Om of the ocean is constant
You can smell the perfume flowers
A broken halo around a shallow figure
Coo to a crystal ball to see your fortune
Now join me in the sunset shadows
Bright blues and warm hues
The rippled ocean is more precocious
Flights are leaving
lost
retreating
The colours draw you in before you ask if you’re welcome
Rolled paper says see you later
Postcard bites, read with caution
-
Ali McCann
Joy, 2023
National Photography Prize 2024
Murray Art Museum Albury
Image Jeremy Weihrauch
A constellation, oscillating, then caught in the headlights
Are these individual pixels in a frame?
Or maybe it's the panning of coarse sand, to reveal the precious metals?
It reads like a fractured Rorschach, a complex algorithm gone off-track
It’s a growth on the wall - leading and being led
shapes to get lost in
holes to hide in
images to project upon
ads that sell you on
hills to die upon
branches to rest on
Details reminisce
The layering exceeds and is excessive
This is the mountain you’re meant to summit
Black tape keeps me grounded
The size and the volume have me shaking
aggressive on the wall
towering and laughing
I see some of my favourite things
glossy
picturesque
obscene
The sexual energy is palpable
Colours and compositions are thoughtful
blues hold my hand and merry-go-round me to dance
I'm traversing pre-waste
windows or pockets where I can escape
On first glance this mess has no reason or rhyme
but I take a little time
I can see the maker's hand
conducting this matter
swirling around
they dance together
Tentacles are pulling me closer
I want to make an offering to this strange and obscure shrine
where I might fall in and never be found
The magic eye is coded to keep me attracted
Do I reach in and take a bite?
will I be expelled like Eve from the garden?
or will this poisonous apple send me off to a dreamland?
And then I hit the ground; stumble around, through the lost and found
Until I see it:
yesterday's breakfast
a tooth I lost in third grade
a puppy I imprisoned my parents with
a trip to Rome I never took
the tool I was looking for to complete the set
the brick I threw at a KFC window back when my angst got the best of me
I tilt my head back and forth, I play figure eights then blur my eyes and in one last attempt
I whisper a magic password and wait to repent
-
Skye Wagner
Before Orange Peel, After Loose Teeth, Now Peanuts, 2023
National Photography Prize 2024
Murray Art Museum Albury
Image Jeremy Weihrauch
These works are blink and you’ll miss it moments
They’re for the curious few among us
who want to ask questions
who want to see their own reflection
who want to know what they are trying to tell us
who glimpse a memory past
About
Liz McCrystal is an artist based on Yuin Country, in Moruya on the NSW far South Coast. Experimental in approach, Liz uses photo, installation and free-verse to deconstruct auto-biographical, topical and philosophical themes relating to the theoretical framework of the human condition. Alongside her creative practice, Liz is an arts-worker who has worked with the Blue Mountains Cultural Centre, SECCA-Bega and Gaffa Gallery in Sydney.
