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“The question of playing both muse and artist is prevalent in these images, and seems to constantly swing from un-empowered and possibly ravaged, to downright brazen and ribald.” |
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Jeanine Woollard, Native, 2009. Digital C-print, 60 x 90 cm. Courtesy of the artist.
“The question of playing both muse and artist is prevalent in these images, and seems to constantly swing from un-empowered and possibly ravaged, to downright brazen and ribald.”
Jeanine Woollard
Based upon my fantastical ventures into the wilderness of the studio setting, the studio portraits series utilizes cheap velour blankets to create portals into imaginary worlds. With bric-a-brac props and the vital delusion of grandeur, the images Whoa, On The Rocks, Volare, and Native suggest any encounter is possible. On one hand there’s an obvious nod to the low-fi industrial scene, on the other, formal art historical and filmic tropes start to take shape through the body of the artist-muse. Each photograph is made up of many contradictory elements that are seemingly hashed together to form a narrative that floats in and out of humor, literary and mythical pastiche.
These works began when I spotted a horse print blanket on a market stall near to my studio. The image of a black stallion, which would later become Whoa (2008), galloping through water, albeit it pixilated and offset, stood out as a brilliant departure from my static sculptural work into a much more performative relationship with objects. As I was already using assembled, found materials in sculptures, my working methods made an easy introduction for an image in this particularly domestic format.
Having the weight of drapery and scale of a traditional backdrop, the surrounding props merely guide the viewer around a very basic set of collaged shapes. In Volare (2008) for example, the water maiden swimming alongside dolphins has her hair tied to the ceiling by a thread to give the appearance of movement, and yet when glanced at “awry” this comical detail is almost believable. It is this slippage in and out of reality; from acknowledgement that what one is seeing is a heap of miscellaneous items to glimpsing an entire scene, that materials play a crucial role. And it is through this careful selection, a kind of odd economy of objects—new, old, specific, or purely utilitarian—that the beauty of the work is to be found.
Similarly in On The Rocks (2009) the Planet Of The Apes style femme fatale is literally strewn across bin bags and piles of old clothes, yet this is no bag lady. The question of playing both muse and artist is prevalent in these images, and seems to constantly swing from un-empowered and possibly ravaged to downright brazen and ribald. *
