Note: this author went to the sensory friendly session of the production on Thursday 16th May and commends CMC’s use of clearer lighting and lower sound levels to moderate the space.
Under the creative brilliance of Tulipa Rodriguez-Quinn, Bianca Galvin, and Charlotte Hutchings, Corpus Machina Collective’s latest work was bound to entrance (pun intended). And indeed, it did. Rounding up twenty-something of Naarm’s best creatives, TRANCE was a delightful and eclectic showcase of the talent in Melbourne’s arts scene. From band to sculpture, from photography to painting to dance and glasswork, there was something for everyone in the upper echelon of the Motley Bauhaus Gallery.
Described as “live music at a bar with art on the walls,” the audience ascended the stairs into a space grounded in both realism and reverie. TRANCE’s collection embodied the space in a daze of art and energy. The audience wandered in a distinguished stupor, observing the art on the walls where several of the creators themselves were present and listening to Astral Collective’s sublime opening set. Amongst this, the addition of activities such as the writing wall, drawing table, complimentary stickers, and the chill-out sensory area with board games added to the ambiance. Amidst this atmosphere, there was an inherent sense of revolt in the walls: pieces hammered in almost violently; delightfully messy graffiti; the occasionally graphic chaos of the draw-your-own writing wall; paint splatters; photobombs featured as part of a devoted shrine dedicated from artist Elizabeth Victoria Pardallis to photographer Harper Owens; and the evocative power of mixed media collages. All in all, these elements combined to capture TRANCE’s true power as an exhibition: its authenticity. From performance to painting, D.J. sets to dance, both the personalities and œuvres of the TRANCE contributors speak to the veritable virtuosos coming about in Naarm.
For ease of reading, I’ve collated my reviews in alphabetical order, beginning with the aforementioned Astral Collective, whose chill grooves were a perfect welcome to the space. Ash Sagee’s mélange of sewing and chain surfaces reflected a strong ideal of introspective femininity. Chiaki Chng captured the quote “something dark beneath your fingertips” with a visual piece that used nails in a masterful way to manipulate shadows, giving great depth to a piece of both panic and joy. Claud Badnch’s mixed media chain work was described by Claudia Scott as the “two wolves inside you” of the exhibition, an animalistic body of thick lines and bold dimensions. Speaking of Scott, her acrylic paintings worked to represent her experiences with music synaesthesia, exhibiting contrasting colours and faux symmetry. While I unfortunately missed Pardallis’ performance as ‘EVE,’ the raw emotional quality of her collage work really struck me, the declaration of “I’m not who I used to be” speaking to the sentiments of this reviewer. I admit to being sceptical of Melbourne D.J.s, solely because I don’t like 2020s club music trends. I am delighted to report, however, that Finn Palma successfully overthrew my concerns, offering a solid assembly of sensory-friendly beats that were as vibrant as the visuals that accompanied him. Mayhaps Palma’s set convinced me to go clubbing more often…
Gryff Connah’s free verse poetry, combined with Eliza Jasper’s emotive colour scapes, were a striking pairing, supplemented by Connah’s charming stage presence in his reading. Hannah Yost’s wacky multi textual clay sculptures were an excellent centrepiece. Owens’ photography–self-described as “I just wanted to take photos of water”–gave the impression of temporal fluidity, the water imagery pairing perfectly with Jake’s transcendent dance performance. Leo’s glasswork hanging in the space was a collection of dramatic psychedelic masterpieces. At first glance, my reaction to Millie Craven’s landscape painting was “I want to live in this.” Craven described their work to me as a meditation on “how we are captivated by our nostalgia”, depicting a real location in a way that felt like they had taken the shadows from the air around them and infused them into a painting. Rodriguez-Quinn was a crystalline fatale, with a voice comparable to the sirens who lured Odysseus, and it was a privilege to listen to her compositions. RJ’s visceral, gory dystopian paintings elevated, in their words, “the beauty of the horrors.” Shirley Wu’s mixed media tarot-inspired work dazzled with the projection of stained-glass imagery. Finally, Zeta’s work brought forward strong ideas on lightwork and curtains.
I came into CMC’s TRANCE expecting theatrics, as a keen fan of their debut Icarus. I left the exhibition fully enraptured in what can’t be described as its absence, but rather as its aftertaste. Elements of theatre are infused in the heart and soul of the exhibition (though I admit my bias here as I have witnessed multiple members of the TRANCE cohort in theatre pieces before). It was a performance beyond rendition and all of Naarm should await CMC’s next work with anticipation.
CMC’s TRANCE exhibition ran from 15-17th May at the Motley Bauhaus in Carlton