Exhibitions

Curated by David Pestorius, The Brisbane Sound maps cross-pollination between the indie and experimental music scenes and the art scene in Brisbane during the post-punk years, 1978–83. The project concentrates on the role of key individuals, including Ed Kuepper, Robert Forster, and Eugene Carchesio, each of whom curate a concert for the project. In addition to receiving international critical acclaim for their music, Kuepper (founder of The Saints) and Forster (founder of The Go-Betweens) have consistently maintained a working relationship with visual artists and the art world, while Carchesio, who is primarily known as a visual artist, is a product of the same music/art milieu.

The Brisbane Sound builds on earlier IMA projects, in particular Ross Harley's groundbreaking 1986 exhibition Know Your Product, which surveyed crossovers between the art and indie music scenes in Brisbane between 1976 and 1986. It was the first time the convergence of local art and music worlds was made visible in an institutional context. Harley’s project assembled a breadth of material, arguing that the sorting would come later, and that certain aspects would assume greater significance in the future. The Brisbane Sound offers itself as the fulfillment of this idea.

In addition to Kuepper, Forster, and Carchesio, The Brisbane Sound showcases the multifarious activities of Gary Warner (his graphic work, experimental sound works, Super-8 films, and contributions to local indie groups including The Leftovers, Zero/Xero, and Out Of Nowhere) and the graphic work of Peter Loveday, Terry Murphy, and John Willsteed (which paralleled and often served as a critique of Brisbane's dynamic alternative and experimental music/art scenes). The remarkable activities of John Nixon from 1980 to 1981 will also be addressed. Nixon’s exhibition program as Director of the IMA and his Anti-Music and Q Space projects challenged institutional orthodoxies and served to collapse the local experimental art and alternative music scenes into one another.

The Brisbane Sound will also include commissioned contributions from Jenny Watson and Andrew Wilson, a rarely seen 1979 television commercial for the Toowong Music Centre featuring The Go-Betweens's Robert Forster and Grant McLennan, and the McLennan-scripted short film Heather's Gloves.

Concert dates: Friday 7 March at 8.30pm: Small World Experience, The Deadnotes, Ian Wadley, Peter Charles Macpherson, Gary Warner (Super-8 films), curated by Eugene Carchesio. Saturday 8 March at 8.30pm: The Apartments, Adults Today, Robert Forster and Adele Pickvance, and Trevor Ludlow and The Hellraisers, curated by Robert Forster. Sunday 9 March at 8.30pm: Ed Kuepper Presents The Ascension Academy. Tickets: Rocking Horse. A joint project with David Pestorius Projects; supported by Brisbane City Council, with additional support from RockingHorse, RMAX Rigid Cellular Plastics, Time Off, and Staging Dimensions. [image: Cloudland, 2 May 1981; photo: Gerry Teekman]

Ross Gibson once described Jacky Redgate's work as 'a sophisticated, nervy meditation on the intricacies of perception, intuition, cognition, and communication'. A key figure in Australian art since the mid-1980s, Redgate made her name as a photographer, with such classic series as Photographer Unknown, Naar Het Schilder-Boeck, and Work-To-Rule, but also works in sculpture and installation. A common thread in her work is an interest in systems, be they personal (like snapshots) or scientific (like mathematics). Much of her work is a meditation on photography, its optics and gazes. The title Visions from her Bed refers to Redgate's being hospitalised as a three-year-old, during which she 'imagined' such recent images as Pigs can’t Run as Fast as Nurses can they Mum? The show includes key works from across her career, including an unseen early work, the Super-8 film Mother England, which she produced as an art student in Adelaide. Supported by the Australia Council and the University of Wollongong, New South Wales. Redgate is represented by William Wright Artists' Projects, Sydney, and Arc One Gallery, Melbourne.

As I looked at the site, it reverberated out to the horizons only to suggest an immobile cyclone while flickering light made the entire landscape appear a quake. A dormant earthquake spread into the fluttering stillness, into a spinning sensation without movement. This site was a rotary that enclosed itself in an immense roundness. From that gyrating space emerged the possibility of the Spiral Jetty. No ideas, no concepts, no systems, no structures, no abstractions could hold themselves together in the actuality of that evidence. My dialectics of site and nonsite whirled into an indeterminate state, where solid and liquid lost themselves in each other. It was as if the lake became the edge of the sun, a boiling curve, an explosion rising into a fiery prominence. Matter collapsing into the lake mirrored in the shape of a spiral. No sense wondering about classifications and categories, there were none.—Robert Smithson.

Commonly regarded as American sculptor Robert Smithson’s greatest work, Spiral Jetty (1970) is an earthwork built of mud, salt crystals, basalt rocks, earth, and water on the northeastern shore of the Great Salt Lake near Rozel Point, Utah. It forms a 1500-foot long, fifteen-foot wide, counterclockwise coil jutting from the shore of the lake. Smithson reportedly chose the Rozel Point site because of the blood-red color of the waters and its connection with the primordial sea. (The red hue was due the presence of the salt-tolerant bacteria and algae that thrive in the extreme salinity of the lake's north arm, which was isolated from fresh water sources by the building of a causeway by the railways in 1959.) In his 32-minute film-portrait of the Jetty, Smithson reveals the work’s evolution.

Melbourne photographer Simon Obarzanek’s project plays on our obsession with faces. For years he made frontal mugshot portraits of young people, male and female, posed against a grey background. Bare-shouldered or in black T-shirts, there was nothing to distinguish them sociologically, except their hairstyles. The sitters were not a dispassionate scientific sample—Obarzanek photographed faces he found interesting. His black-and-white prints suppress some aspects of difference (colouration) to emphasise others (proportion). The photos are always presented in groups, engaging us in compare-and-contrast. One face is Aryan, another alien; one is refined, another vulgar; one man's lips seem rudely pasted on. As we discriminate the classic from the quirky, those we like from the crowd, 80 Faces tells us as much about ourselves, about what resonates with us.

New Zealand artist Dane Mitchell opens our TCB window space not with a blessing, but with a curse. A text warns us, remnants from spell are evident, and a thermometer might be there to record paranormal activity. It may be effectively invisible, yet experiencing the work provokes anything from nagging doubt to cynicism, from a sense of awakened possibilities to the impression that things are indeed beyond our immediate control. In previous works Mitchell has collaborated with mediums and psychics to explore the phantom inhabitants of art galleries and museums, created a portal to the spirit world in the Auckland Art Gallery and summoned the spirit of New Zealand painter Rita Angus via a medium. At a time when Maori take steps to make spaces 'culturally safe', Mitchell goes the other way, in the process drawing attention to our double standards regarding superstition.

This exhibition juxtaposes two artists exploring digital imaging.

Melbourne's Daniel Crooks is known for his 'time slice' videos, which draw on the precedents of cubism and the chronophotography of Etienne-Jules Marey and Eadweard Muybridge. Crooks computer processes original video footage so that each frame contains areas from the original shot, but from different moments in time. The effect is to spatialise time and to temporalise space. Sometimes Crooks so distorts and abstracts his subjects that they become unrecognisable; other times the effect is subtle, suggesting an uncanny bulge in an otherwise familiar scene.

At art school, New Zealand artist Jae Hoon Lee began using a flatbed scanner to record changes in his skin. He documented sores, pores, freckles, and hairs in gross detail, pressed up against the glass, then collaged the scans to create sheets of skin, deranged diaristic bodyscapes, which he presented as photographs and videos. He has gone on to create other works exploring the relationship between the perspectiveless gaze of the scanner and computer image processing and our conventional expectations of photography. [image: Daniel Crooks]

Catalogue Essay

Yoga . . . do you go for exercise, for relaxation, for spiritual guidance, or because there are a bunch of hot singles and a sexy instructor? – Grant Stevens

A former Brisbanite, now based in Los Angeles, Grant Stevens is known for his pithy text-videos exploring vernacular and mass-media truisms and recalling advertising, movie trailers, and meditation videos. Stevens trades in cliches, platitudes, and stock phrases but also points to their richness, probing the overlap between mass-media fictions and lived reality. While some of his works play on language's slipperiness, others emphasise its hyper-lucidity. Against the backdrop of modern life's impossibly hyperactive schedules, his new works go fishing for personal reflection, self-help, new age spirituality, and other ways to get a grip. No Bad Days includes a video text mandala and a found waterfall wallpaper mural with an inset sound system.

John Lennon championed him, Dennis Hopper used him, and Marilyn Manson loves him.—Ben Cobb

For this year’s IMA@DENDY we present the cult classic underground films of Chilean-born director Alejandro Jodorowsky. Visually stunning, deeply disorienting, often incomprehensible, these films blend religious imagery, esoteric mysticism, freaks, and amputees; eroticism, surrealism, and ultra-violence. With their genre-bending, their fusion of mystic geometry and anarchy, and starring the director himself, these grail-questing epics offer a surprising precedent for Matthew Barney’s The Cremaster Cycle. El Topo (1970) is a trippy surrealistic Western. Classic Americana and avant-garde European cinema sensibilities meet Zen Buddhism and the Bible as Jodorowsky as El Topo—a master gunman and cosmic mystic—defeats four sharp-shooting rivals on a bizarre path to enlightenment and surreal resurrection. R18+. In The Holy Mountain (1973) a Christ-like thief wanders through grotesque scenarios filled with religious and sacrilegious imagery. He meets Jodorowsky, playing a mystic guide and alchemist, who introduces him to seven wealthy and powerful individuals, each representing a planet in the solar system: a cosmetics manufacturer, an arms manufacturer, an art dealer, a political financial adviser, a toy maker, a police chief, and an architect. Along with the thief and the guide, they divest themselves of their worldly goods and seek out the Holy Mountain, in order to displace the gods who live there and become immortal. R18+. Take the opportunity to see these incredibly strange, rarely screened films. El Topo introduced by artist and film critic Philip Brophy, Saturday 14 June at 6pm; The Holy Mountain, Sunday 15 June at 3pm; The Holy Mountain introduced by Trash Video’s Andrew Leavold; Saturday 21 June at 6pm; El Topo Sunday 22 June at 3pm. Dendy Cinemas, 346 George Street, Brisbane. Films distributed by Siren Visual. [image: The Holy Mountain]

A selection of work from our touring cars-in-art show, toured with support from Visions of Australia and the Gordon Darling Foundation. Sadie Chandler, Martin Mischkulnig, Ben Morieson, Louise Paramor, Patricia Piccinini, Scott Redford, and Daniel Wallwork.

This exhibition explores the habits, language and practices of dating—the rules of romantic engagement. Mutlu Cerkez paints gouaches of messages women left on his answerphone in response to his dating profile. Robin Hely secretly video-records a date organised through a phone service, collecting solo mother Sherrie’s life story, then putting the moves on her. Grant Stevens's video restages a generic love letter, scattering its words in a starry-starry night. Photographer Darren Sylvester shows a young woman in a face-pack, fighting aging, hanging on the telephone. David Rosetzky’s video features voiceovers—interior monologues—reflecting on the dynamics of relationships, desires, encounters, and breakups. With her Relationship Contracts, Gabrielle de Vietri takes the necessity of consent too far, imagining that even the parties in a stalker/victim relationship might sign off on it. Love is a battlefield. [image: Darren Sylvester]

Catalogue Essay

Audiences for contemporary art are increasing worldwide. The public have graduated from an awareness of music, through fashion and design, to art. Scott Redford sees this development as both a continuation of the early modernist avant-garde's utopian desire for a universal visual language and a challenge to traditional notions of originality. To signal these developments, Redford is writing and designing a film about Reinhardt Dammn, a 22-year-old who surfs, makes art, and sings in a band. Reinhardt is cocky and always the showman but his bravado masks vulnerability. Spurned by the official art world because of his youth, Reinhardt is also rejected because he refuses to ignore the obvious: a canvas painted one colour is not a 'monochrome signalling art's autonomy', it is a one-colour canvas; a soup tin is a soup tin; an installation is just objects placed in a room. Daring to speak with the innocence of a wild child, Reinhardt challenges the complacency of art's powers-that-be.

Catalogue Essay

Melbourne artist Rose Nolan traffics in forms, codes, and ideals founded in utopian strands of twentieth-century avant-gardism. At the core of her project lies a fascination with Russian constructivism and suprematism, inflected with the language games of conceptual art. With works ranging from artist books and multiples through to carpets and massive wall paintings, Nolan brushes the heroic gestures of utopian modernism with the intimacies and foibles of the personal. A joint project with Artspace, Sydney.

Catalogue Essay

Belgian artist Johan Grimonprez achieved international acclaim with his collage video Dial H-I-S-T-O-R-Y. Premiering in 1997 at Paris's Centre Pompidou and at Documenta X in Kassel, it eerily foreshadowed 9/11. It tells the story of airplane hijackings in the 1970s and how they changed the course of news reporting. Back then, hijacking epitomised hip suicidal heroics: the Japanese Red Army commandeered planes with samurai swords and a woman revolutionary prepared with a facelift. Dial H-I-S-T-O-R-Y consists of recycled images taken from news broadcasts, mainstream movies, and TV commercials, and incorporates ruminations from Don DeLillo novels and a collage of sound samples and groovy music by collaborator David Shea. The resulting montage of fact and fiction, the illustrative and the oblique, locates the question of terrorism within the context of the media: our mediated, channel-hopping sense of reality. The question the artist appears to be posing is this: When everybody has been absorbed except those zealots on the outside prepared to die for their beliefs, what might a history of that historical outside look like?

Britain’s Guy Sherwin is a pioneer of experimental cinema. His handcrafted films, gallery installations, and performances explore light and time as fundamentals of cinema. Sherwin presents a survey of his films, including investigations of film material, animal studies, and optical-sound experiments. He also performs 'expanded cinema' works in collaboration with Singaporean film and sound artist Lynn Loo. These include the classic Man with Mirror, where he uses a mirror to catch and reflect a projected film. The film used shows him doing the same thing in a sunlit landscape in 1976. The work sets up a relay between live and recorded events. A joint project with OtherFilm, in association with Brisbane International Film Festival; supported by the British Council, Singapore Film Commission, and the University of Wolverhampton.

David Griggs is famous for his anarchic code-clashing pop paintings which draw on his experiences of living in Asian conflict zones. In 2003 he stayed in Mae Sot, a town on the border of Thailand and Burma, close to three Burmese refugee camps policed by Thai military, where Burmese exiles have been detained since the 1988 Rangoon student uprising. He drew inspiration from young people in the camps who were seeking alternative ways to express themselves and protest. Their stories formed the basis of his 2004 show Destination Disaster at Gertrude Contemporary Art Spaces, Melbourne. For the last three years, Griggs has been spending much of his time in the Philippines. Our show includes three massive unstretched canvasses from his 2006 project Bleeding Hearts Club, made with the assistance of Filipino mural painters, which draw on local imagery, including gang iconography. His 2007 video Blood on the Streets features local slums kids in ghoulish Halloween masks. Sculptures of severed arms hang from the ceiling and sculptures of severed legs lay on the floor. They come from his 2008 show, All I Want is World Peace, a Blowjob and a Free T-Shirt. Griggs is represented by Kaliman Gallery, Sydney.

Artur Zmijewski's unabashedly political artworks are among the most cogent and courageous meditations on the psychical complexities of fascism and state violence currently being produced. Combining performance and video, the Warsaw-based artist utilises bodily dysfunction and abjection as allegories for despotism. His protagonists are the sick, the mentally ill, the handicapped, and the imprisoned.
—Derek Conrad Murray

Polish artist Artur Zmijewski is renowned for his confronting documentary videos. He observes people, often in scenarios he has himself set up. He deals with themes of power and powerlessness in relation to the body. People play tag in the nude in a former concentration camp gas-chamber. An Auschwitz survivor recounts his experience while having his tattooed camp serial number 'refreshed'. A Zionist extremist delivers a righteous video-epistle: 'For every Jew dead we will kill not 3000 but 300,000'. Polish soldiers perform their drill, chanting songs about war and women, first outside in their uniforms and then, laughably, naked, in a ballet rehearsal room. Many of Zmijewski's works focus on marginals, particularly the ill and disabled. He observes the everyday struggles of people suffering from Huntington's Disease. He organises singing lessons for the deaf. There is always ambiguity. In An Eye For An Eye (1998), the able-bodied co-operate with amputees, filling in for their missing limbs, momentarily completing them. It is hard to tell if they are kindly caregivers or if they have been appropriated and their interests elided by those with greater needs.

The centrepieces of the show are two major works: Repetition (made as Poland's contribution to the 2005 Venice Biennale) and Them (made for last year's Documenta). In Repetition Zmijewski repeats the famous 1971 American psychology experiment where participants were paid to play prisoners and guards. In the original experiment, the jailers rapidly became sadistic and the experiment had to be curtailed. However, the ultimate result of Zmijewski's rerun was somewhat different. After his jailers descended into barbarism they had a change of heart, experiencing solidarity with their captives, and together they all walked out on the experiment. Them reads like a parody of an art school crit-session. It documents a series of art workshops Zmijewski held with members of four Polish extremist groups. First he met with them separately, and had them paint their insignia, the symbols of their beliefs. Then he brought them together to correct one another's paintings. Conflict erupted as the Catholics and neo-nationalists united against the left-wingers and Jewish youths. They started painting over, cutting, and burning the others' symbols, clashing over the body politics of the Polish nation. Despite their radical differences, those on the far right and those on the far left behaved similarly, speaking on behalf of the social whole while ignoring the other.

Zmijewski's videos are at once uncannily like—and unlike—reality television. They catch us at our most naked and vulnerable. Sometimes hysterical, sometimes painful to watch, they are a profound exploration of our situation and the double binds it entails. A joint project with Te Tuhi Centre for the Arts, Pakuranga, Auckland. Artur Zmijewski is represented by Peter Kilchmann Gallery, Zurich.

Catalogue Essay

For his contribution to last year’s Documenta, the big survey of world art that occurs every five years in the small German town of Kassel, prominent Chinese artist Ai Weiwei flew in 1001 of his countrymen to see the show. The volunteers, selected by Ai Weiwei, mostly from an open call on his blog, came for a week 200 at a time, with airfares and lodging covered. The artist chose 'those who are not able to travel overseas under normal conditions, or those to whom traveling overseas has a very important meaning'. While international travel is typically available only to upper-class Chinese, the group included farmers, laid-off workers, street vendors, teachers, students, rock singers, artists and engineers. Identifiable through their 'tourist uniform' designed by the artist, participants lived communally in an abandoned factory, and were free to roam around Kassel but could not leave the city. Dubbed Fairytale – Kassel was home to the Brothers Grimm from 1798 to 1830 – the work offered a doubling. The exotic Chinese visitors were at once art objects and viewers; through an awareness of their gaze, the German locals could also imagine themselves as exotic, as objects for their visitors' regard. The artist documented the project in a three-hour film. Thanks to Sherman Contemporary Art Foundation, through whose initiative Fairytale was first exhibited in Australia.

Sydney sculptor Mikala Dwyer provocatively conflates the look of pedigreed modern art (particularly geometric abstraction and minimalism) with the amateur, infantile, and playful, conflating gallery with kindergarten. Eleven rustic garments, made in fantasy 'dress up' fabrics like organza, hung on the wall, accompanied by eleven paper-mache geometic forms. Some hang above the costumes, suggesting caricature heads, recalling witches's hats, and crows's and aliens's heads; others rest on the floor, suggesting modern sculptures, a look belied by their low production values. On the one hand, the work has scary associations, suggesting a committee of judges or inquisitors (especially one costume with an 'eyeball' head). On the other, one feels an irresistible desire to pull them off their hooks, to climb into them, to inhabit them, and play out the roles they suggest. This work, Costumes, is accompanied by two Empty Sculptures which Dwyer created by folding and fusing sheet plastic into monocoque structures. From some angles the Empty Sculptures seem crudely manufactured, from others high tech. They have the form of boulders, but are the opposite, being lightweight, transparent, hollow, all skin. They are like ghost boulders. Dwyer is represented by Anna Schwartz Gallery, Melbourne, and Hamish McKay Gallery, Wellington. 

Mimicking the window displays in neighbouring boutiques, Brisbane artist Jemima Wyman’s TCB window installation More Jungle than Paradise draws on the subcultural style of street gangs and liberation armies. She displays her novel uniforms—balaclavas with fake eyes and plaid flannel shirts embroidered with face-mask logos—against a wallpaper mural densely patterned with images of the garments. Playing on the idea of urban camouflage, her garments suggest a means to mask individual identity while simultaneously asserting a group one.

This is the first survey exhibition of Brisbane painter Diena Georgetti's elusive work.

Georgetti achieved considerable critical attention when her blackboard paintings were first shown at the IMA in 1989, and subsequently at the 1992 Biennale of Sydney. Soon after her work took an abrupt turn, as she followed up with a series of orientalist paintings, marked by their modest scale, allegorical possibility, and psychological intensity. More recently she has been producing work co-opting early modernist styles to new ends.

The blackboard paintings were often exhibited in clusters. They featured phrases or words, scrawled, sometimes elegantly, sometimes awkwardly. Georgetti used a lexicon of obscure but suggestive German and Latinate words that resembled English ones. Her expressions seemed freighted with philosophical import. It was hard not to read the texts as self referential, as if inscriptions like 'Espectral lustro' embodied what they described. Georgetti's blackboards also suggest teaching aids, recalling the blackboards of Joseph Beuys. Fellow artist Eugene Carchesio characterised them as 'a darkened space of thought' and a 'poetry of severe purity'.

Georgetti's more recent paintings look rather different, but are also quasi-metaphysical. Drawing on the collage-logic of synthetic-cubism, she has grafted motifs drawn from an eclectic image-bank—favourite images from art, architecture, fashion and design—into formats inspired by early modern painting. The work is part mannerist, part hobbyist, part idealist, like someone's idea or fantasy of modern art. She forges a personal utopia from fragments of style she personally discovered, elected, identifies with, and invests in. Or, as she puts it: 'In the residence of Rudolph Schindler, his colleagues and their wives, I invite myself to warm wine and communal sex . . . In living a parallel existence with these modernists, and all they have gifted me, I am provided more familial relevance than any blood or gene.' Curated by Max Delany and Robert Leonard; a joint project with Monash University Museum of Art, Melbourne.

Catalogue Essay

For the last eleven years the IMA has mounted Fresh Cut, an annual best-of-graduates show featuring work from end-of-year shows at Queensland art schools. This year we are changing our approach dramatically. The New Fresh Cut will feature four emerging Queensland-based or Queensland-born artists—either at art school (graduating and post-graduate students) or up to six years out of art school—who have not shown at the IMA before. Each will be given $5000 towards the development of new work for the show. This support has been generously provided by our new business partner, Brisbane Airport Corporation. IMA director Robert Leonard, Queensland Art Gallery curator Russell Storer and artist Jemima Wyman selected this year’s artists from over 70 submissions. They are Eric Bridgeman, Laith McGregor, Gabriella and Silvana Mangano, and Ross Manning. [image: Gabriella and Silvana Mangano]

Catalogue Essay

Alfredo and Isabel Aquilizan moved to Brisbane from the Philippines. Much of their work concerns migration. Their window project Flight features a small house-shaped stack of domestic possessions, suggesting of the content of a suitcase. Alongside it are model aeroplanes made during art workshops when the Aquilizans conducted with adults and children at Queensland Art Gallery. Made using classic art-room materials (cardboard, popsicle sticks, plastic containers, wire, and wool), the models are crude but inventive. Each has its own personality. Some are simple, others complex; some sleek, others squat; some rigid, others floppy; but all are rather unaerodynamic. The collection is a study in morphology: some would not be recognised as aeroplanes were it not for the company they keep. Hung massed like ex-votos or fetishes, and recalling the aeroplane made by Mondo Cane cargo-cultists, the models suggest a collective fantasy of flight. The Aquilizans are also currently showing in the Singapore Biennale.
 

I like time. Now is not like two minutes later. And it's never like before. Repetition doesn't exist.—Domenico Dolce

Greek philosopher Heraclitus is famed for his observation that 'no man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.' With its stellar international line-up, The Same River Twice deals with a hot theme in recent art—historical reenactment. The artists all remake or recall history, with a twist. The first instalment features five artists. Gerard Byrne (Ireland) restages a 1973 Playboy roundtable on 'new sexual lifestyles' like a theatre piece, and films it. With Mike Figgis, Jeremy Deller (Britain) makes a documentary about his historical reenactment of 'the Battle of Orgreave', a confrontation between striking miners and police during the 1984 miners' strike. Thomas Demand (Germany) remakes politically significant scenes from affectless photos as paper sculptures and photographs them. The Third Memory, a video installation by Pierre Huyghe (France), explores the interplay of fact and fiction—interviewing bank robber John Wotjtowicz, immortalised by Al Pacino in Dog Day Afternoon, we discover Pacino inspired Wotjtowicz's criminal style in the first place. And Slave Pianos (Australia) take experimental music made by artists and have it transcribed into sheet music so it can be performed by a robot piano player. Curated by Angela Goddard and Robert Leonard. (Part 2: Omer Fast, Emma Kay, and Mike Kelley and Paul McCarthy; 7 March – 25 April 2009.) [image: Slave Pianos]

Catalogue Essay