ELEANOR SCICCHITANO / by FELTspace

A monster we can see

 

Walking through FELTspace in May feels like a journey through the apocalypse; dodging

monsters in the front room, finding shelter in a post-apocalyptic hideaway in the back, and

then the shy first encounter with a stranger played out in the window as we walk away.

Three exhibitions, separate but drawing on a single story of destruction, survival and

uncertainty that characterises the world of late.

For over a year now, we have been pursued by a monster we cannot see. A microscopic

virus lurking on the handle of a shopping cart, transferred from friend-to-friend through the

once comforting act of a hug. For me, an ominous sense of dread has hung across all my

interactions outside the home, and this is from the relative safety of Adelaide. Nearly

invisible threats existed before the pandemic. The steady destruction wrought by climate

change, the creeping rise of temperatures drying the Earth. Pressure has mounted for many

years, finally bringing the land to a breaking point in 2019 and 2020 which saw fires, floods

and extreme weather wreak havoc. Capturing this sense of destruction, Tasmanian curator

Victor Medrano brings together four artists to explore the idea of the kaiju, a sub-genre of

Japanese cinema, and the name for the gigantic monsters who populate these worlds.

There’s comfort in the reality of the kaiju, and being able to see and touch that which tears

our lives apart.

In his video work, Tomzilla, artist Tom O’Hern thrashes naked around a cardboard set, flimsy

buildings knocked down easily by the monster; part human, part hairy beast. He has been

woken by the drills in the Great Australian Bite seeking oil, and risking this pristine

environment in the process. There is something comical about this man/monster. Like a

child having a tantrum and destroying their toys, Tomzilla brings about the destruction of a

paper city. Underneath the comedy, there is a sense of the futile, the frustration about not

being able to do anything. Tomzilla seems to be having the temper tantrum we all want to

have, brought on by the helplessness felt by many. With no power to make change, our only

recourse is to vent our emotions through wild movements and grunting ineptitude.

Lou Conboy’s photographs of two fighting kaiju pick up on a sense of futility and abandon.

They pose on a beach, performing their fierceness for the camera, before launching into a

sword fight. The series ends with the two kaiju seemingly interrupting their fight to gaze and

point at a plane as it flies away. Now they are alone, costumes glittering in the sun. No

onlookers, no audience, no one to watch them perform, and no one to be awestruck by

their power. Has the audience tired of their struggle and decided to just leave them to it?

Abandoning them to their own devices and their own eternal back and forth. Whatever they

were fighting for, it now feels obsolete. The world is no longer interested. Their flashy dress

is for nothing they have no one left to show off to. They belong to the old world, kaiju left

behind whether by progress, fabulous technology or a world that considers them outdated,

and is ready for the next big thing.

Robert O’Connor’s wall hanging explores the myth of Santa Clause, reframing the historical

figure as a kaiju. Written across the banner are the saint in various guises; Krampus a

horned, anthropomorphic figure from Alpine folklore, assisting St Nick to scare misbehaving

children; Cernunnos, the horned Celtic god of animals, nature and fertility, or travel,

commerce and bi-directionality. This leads to more recent depictions, the jolly, round face

of the Coca Cola Father Christmas, ruddy cheeked and laughing. O’Conner speaks to the

long history of this figure, a strange man who breaks into our houses, punishing or

rewarding children. Rendered in what appear to be hasty scrawls, this blanket captures the

enduring myth of St Nicholas. He is reminding his audience of the long history of monsters

in cultures across the world, the strange man and beast who crawls in our window at night,

rewarding good and punishing bad children. O’Connor hits on the purpose of these tales, to

scare children into good behaviour.

Moving around the space, Crosswell has hung a collection of what appear to be remnants of

these battles, titled EKUL. Frames, draped in fabric that has been ripped and torn, coated in

concrete. They move between being remnants of images; the way we have constructed our

lives online, the way the media have framed news stories; and the remnants of physical

structures that have made up our world; cities, bridges, sky scrapers; the buildings that have

become a scar on the Earth, replacing nature. All of this artifice has come down, ripped

apart by the kaiju. Whether it’s the physical or the image that is being destroyed, the

destruction is complete. The veneer has been stripped away, and the skeleton is violently

laid bare, exposed in the aftermath.

Making it through the monsters, we emerge in the backroom. The Last Artist has decreased

the size of the gallery, hemming us in, making the space smaller and more claustrophobic.

The walls are constructed from cut-offs, salvaged boards and espalier, hastily patched

together to form walls. Purple lighting invokes a sense of sci fi, emergency lights glowing

darkly. Propped haphazardly on ledges are paintings, impressionist portraits of buildings

recognisable as Adelaide landmarks. Is this the future of FELT, to be converted into a bunker

where the survivors of our current destruction can cower and wait for danger to pass? Like

Conboy’s photographs, the paintings invoke a sense of nostalgia, a longing for the world

‘before’.

Though Grant Parke tells the story of his arrival in Adelaide in his video Come Fly With Me,

installed as part of this May FELTdark showing, it takes on a sense of navigating the world

post-pandemic as we emerge from lockdowns. Two strangers engage in an awkward

encounter on a train, hindered by an unwelcome guest. They are both lonely, one a new

arrival and one widowed, adrift following loss and relocation. Rendered in simple lines that

move and wriggle across the screen, the animation has a sense of being constantly shifting.

Parke expertly captures a sense of nervous energy that comes with a new encounter,

especially one with a stranger.

The story being told in FELTspace in May is one of destruction, followed by renewal and

hope. They are the stories of now, and the future. Perhaps having had this glimpse into the

world to come, we will rethink the decisions being made, or navigate new ways to move

forward.