illustration by alex rose

Born in New Zealand, and now living and working in Melbourne, is artist Julia deVille who combines taxidermy, that rare and delicate art of preserving dead animals, with jewellery making and fashion design, all under her growing label DISCE MORI (Latin for Learn to Die). Julia does not kill any animals for her art, choosing only to use creatures that have died of natural causes. She has just been selected as one of 13 artists to exhibit in the PRIMAVERA, the MCA’s annual group show devoted to showcasing the best new talent in Australian art.

So, how were you selected for the Primavera?
Aaron Seeto from Object Gallery approached me, he just called me up and came around to my studio. He is the curator, so he put me in the show.

How did you decide which work to show?
Well, he said that he wanted to show my taxidermy work and I already had a collection of my personal work that I don’t sell. I’m making three new pieces as well.

Bird Skull Brooch is one of the pieces you plan to exhibit. How did you create this one?
That was actually a bird that my old cat caught that I had outside and it was a bit mangled, so I couldn’t really taxidermy it. So I just threw the whole thing in a jar of methylated spirits, cleaned it out, and left some feathers on it. I then filled the eyes with cubic zirconias. That was before I was working with diamonds or precious gemstones.

You’re doing well in both the art world and the fashion world. Is it tricky straddling them both?
Not really, because they’re almost separate. My art pieces, or the pieces that I consider artworks, I don’t really sell them anywhere. I exhibit them more in shows like Primavera, and then I have the more commercial, sellable pieces. Before I was a jeweller, I was studying fashion and have always been into clothes and art, so I guess it was kind of natural to me. That’s why I make everything wearable, because I always want to have things with me and have them on me. I appreciate that it does get seen as art, because it could easily get categorised as fashion as most jewellery does.

You’ve called your website DISCEMORI, which translates from the Latin as “learn to die.” How do we learn to die? How does death figure in your work?
Disce Mori is actually a sixteenth century inscription from one of my periods that I’m influenced by; Momento Mori jewellery. It was in really religious time, and it was just after the Plague, so death was a big part of life. People use to wear things like skull and crossbones and symbols of death, and they used to engrave their jewellery with little inscriptions like “discemori” or “momento mori.” Back then it was used more as a religious tool to remind you of your day of judgement. I use it more as symbol of your own mortality, and being aware of the fact that you are going to die. I feel that if you are aware of that you can appreciate life more, and learn to live.

You hail from New Zealand. Where’s your hometown and what was it like for you?
I was from Wellington, which is one of my favourite places in the world. It has a really big city dynamic, even though it’s tiny. It’s a fraction of the size of Melbourne, but its still got amazing art galleries, amazing restaurants and cafes, shopping and people have a really open minded attitude, I find, even more so than what I’ve experienced in Australia. It’s just a beautiful place, and it’s vibrant.

WORDS by Ella Mudie
IMAGE Julia deVille Bird Skull Brooch 2004 (mouse, sterling silver, rubies, 18ct gold)
PHOTOGRAPH by Terence Bogue
Courtesy and © the artist

The Primavera will run from 13 September – 19 November 2006 at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Sydney.

Moving to Australia from Japan when he was sixteen, installation artist Koji Ryui now calls Sydney home. It's Koji's knack for transforming the detritus of human society into charming sculptural installations that playfully evoke viral or organic structures that has captured the attention of curious art audiences around Sydney of late.  One such fan is the curator of this year's PRIMAVERA (at MCA); who has just selected Koji to exhibit alongside twelve others including Melbourne artist Julia deVille this September.  As well as tweaking his gorgeous "Nocturnal Emissions" installations for the show, Koji is also planning a mysterious perfomance piece where he will explore his unique intepretations of "tactility" and "touch".

How did your selection for the Primavera show come about?
I had quite a few meetings and conversations with the curator, Aaron Seeto, who had a particular view (in the best possible way…) about what he wanted. We picked two different works, one object installation and one performance. I’m hoping one will complement the other. The relationship between these two works is interesting to me.

What do you think is the relevance of a show like Primavera?
There are so many fantastic and interesting things happening in the local art scene, but usually most of them disappear without receiving much publicity. Shows like Primavera are good because they bring attention to local artists.

You have a talent for making ugly or ordinary things very beautiful. Where do you find beauty or admiration?
I reckon almost anything can look beautiful if it’s presented in a certain way. I’m not exactly sure where I find my inspirations, but I like seeing beauty in things that are not meant to be “beautiful” in our society.
You grew up in Japan then moved to Australia in 1992. Why the big move?
I am not exactly sure. I kind of was not fitting in very well back in Kyoto where I grew up…I also remember liking Ken Done when I visited Australia in the 80’s as a tourist.

You staged an unusual performance art work at First Draft Gallery in Sydney last year. Wearing a white cube helmet to block your vision, and using your hands to feel the features of your sitter, you created a series of drawings. It’s been dubbed “blind drawing.” What’s this all about?
It was originally for an event called “Here” organised by Sarah Rawlings for the Terminus project. I was asked to host a night doing something with “material”. I had been doing this experimental drawing when I was at art school, where I’d draw my self- portrait with my eyes closed and I enjoyed the distortion of my drawing. For “Here”, I drew other people’s portraits instead of drawing myself. Since I was blinded while I was drawing, I had to touch people’s faces to work out what they looked like.
I think “tactility” and “touch” are very important aspects of “material”. The “touch” became my interpretation of “material” for the night. Also, wearing a white cubic box over my head is ironic in the context of galleries or museums.

It takes technical skill to draw blindly. How does drawing figure in your installation work?
I don’t think you need much technical skill to do this. I am trying to draw as best I can, but it’s not the point of the installation to come up with technically well drawn pictures. I personally think it is more enjoyable when the drawing is wrong and fucked up. The process of the performance is more important than the result though.

Do you consider yourself a “minimalist”?
I was very interested in minimalism when I was at art school, but no, I don’t consider myself a “minimalist”. However, I feel my work can’t live without a formal aesthetic. Its something I like to refer to.

Who do you admire? Why?
I admire heaps of people I know who are self-obsessed and fanatical. They make my day.
What are you working on at the moment?
I’m trying to come up with a birthday present for a good friend of mine. I also
would like to go back to school next year. I have a solo exhibition planned in October.

Any “words of the wise” for emerging young artists?
Keep emerging. Emerge as much as you can.

WORDS by Ella Mudie
IMAGE Koji Ryui Milk tree society – techno homo (white) 2005 (foam, plastic, paper, glue, rubber)
PHOTOGRAPH by Jamie North
Courtesy and © the artist

The Primavera will run from 13 September – 19 November 2006 at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Sydney.

Where are you from?
I'm currently living and working in Wisconsin. I spent a big part of my life in Ohio as well, so the Midwest has been my home for almost 12 years now.

Tell us about your practice. How did you get into what you do?
I went to art school as a painter. I spent a lot of my time experimenting with the medium, playing with techniques and trying to develop a language I wanted to convey. It wasn't until I started to explore a more sculptural approach with my work that I realized the potential for my concepts. I didn't want my work to be limited by my practice and felt my visions needed to have free-reign over my work. My concepts and the imaginative scope of my art spanned many disciplines in my mind, so I felt I needed to explore these ideas through different technical approaches. I wasn't concerned or interested in my work being defined by a formal code, or becoming self referential in its use of medium, so expanding the dialogue of my practice seemed necessary in continuing the exploration of concept. This way I can focus on the communicative possibilities of my work, so I try to approach each idea separately and find the most effective method for visualizing it.

Your work has a bizarre, and sometimes surreal feeling to it. How would you describe your approach to art?
I feel my approach is a classical one. Though the product may seem bizarre or surreal, I don't feel that the approach is. I try and connect my aesthetics and personal concepts to narrative structures that have long been evolving before my introduction to them. I'm interested in identity, gender, character construction and ritual, issues that I can't stake claim on, but topics I can add my relationship and interpretations of to. I see my approach to art as a way of assembling the visual and cultural elements of the world around me in order to express my relationship to contemporary themes or trends. I want elements of my work to reference real objects and a sense of time and place while developing a romanticised fantasy world of exclusive subcultures, events and rituals. It's a way of commenting on reality through fantasy, which inherently yields a surreal product.

4) Tell us about your latest series of works After the Bough Breaks, OI Series, and your collage.
They've all generated from a similar place, and have informed each other in a conceptual and linear manner. The OI Series is the earliest of these works, and at the time I was dealing with several issues from concept to the evolution of my studio practices. I was interested in the way in which image, fashion, and the media inform our creation and adherence to sexual identities. The masks visually activated or altered the orientation, gender signifiers and symbolic references of the models sexual identity, challenging the construction of self and the projection of it.
I became interested in how slight shifts in context, and the assumption of character could establish new directions for defining meaning, which led me to After The Bough Breaks. Specifically I became interested in the role of masculinity in contemporary society through ritual, gender relations, authority, and fraternal orders.  I wanted to investigate current social demands for a male re-evaluation of constructed identities and the resulting impact it has on 'masculine' sensibilities.

5) What kind of process do you go through to create your work?
I don't have any direct serious of steps to approaching work, ideas continue to develop, and I continue to respond. I am influenced daily through visuals, literature, conversations, relationships, etc. What I try to do is make connections between these symbols through my interpretation of them as incoming stimuli. In this sense I spend a considerable amount of my time researching outside materials that may or may not influence the work. Part of my process is not putting pressure on the art to succeed or fail by acknowledging each works importance as a progressive step to something else. Sometimes my process is directed through tactile experience, other times it is a direct reference to mythology or literature. Conceptually the language remains similar, so as the works progresses so to does my understanding of its language. Most of my work is never seen, or intended to be seen -it allows me to approach larger more intended narratives by informing my overall process. As I said before, I am not creating my language; only responding to pre-existing themes, so the more informed I become theoretically, the more the work is informed. The only process I do have is making sure I continue to grow with the work, by continuing to have a relationship to it.

6) You've worked in many mediums, from photography and film, to installation. Do you have a favourite?
I don't have a favorite because I don't see them as being all that separate. My sensibility remains the same when dealing with different media; it's my experience with them that is tested. If I want to approach a medium I don't understand than I try to learn it or find someone who already does. The mediums become the vehicle for the idea, which inevitably is more interesting than the practice.

7) What do you love / hate the most about being an artist?
Knowing that I am simultaneously a member of the least threatening and most threatening occupation possible.

8) What are you working on next?
I'm continuing my investigation of the contemporary male through the documentation of a fictional male cult. It's inspired by the book "Iron John" and will incorporate various rites of passage rituals with male social gatherings. It's about brotherhood, and the facilitation of the male sensitivity.

INTERVIEWED BY Jason Lingard

1) How did you get into what you do?
my mother, who was a graphic designer and is now a full-time artist, bred a passion for art and design deep into me. i was i sent the first few years of my life, on her lap, reading lettra-set catalogues, while she did her gouche and tracing-paper logos and layouts (in true 60s pre-mac style!)
i studied fine arts and design at COFA over a 7 year period and got the chance to explore so many types of design and media - jewellery, textiles, ceramics, web design, object design, painting, drawing - i even did a performance/installation elective at one point where a dreadlocked guy in my class writhed naked in green slime, ahhh those were the formative years!

2) How would you sum up your work in one sentence?
it is always unnecessarily elaborate and detailed

3) What inspires you?
fresh-off-the-shelf artline pens, the strawberry dilmah tea my mum bought me yesterday, kate and matt, the new flowers on my late-grandmas plants in my bathroom, yayoi kusamas polka dots, bourke st bakery, my boyfriends love of 'mythbusters', seeing people wear my jewellery, magic realism, black swans and bathing by candlelight

4) What do you love the most about the process of creating an image or product?
the start. when i can breathe and play and not worry about the looming (often passed) deadline. at the the start of a new job i find my heart racing with possibilities.

5) You cross a variety of disciplines, is there a particular field you prefer to work in?
jewellery is my newest venture and seems to be the most satisfying to date, probably because its under my own name and i have no one else to please and get approval from. its very self - indulgent!
6) How do you find doing commercial work versus personal work?

i find my personal work is a million time more satisfying and enjoyable. although at times some commercial work is a sort of relief, when you can execute tasks mindlessly, without having to question whether you are really expressing yourself completely and how you should visually represent yourself.

7) So what does the future hold for Elke Kramer?
more jewellery collections. after an extended series of hiccups, my second collection, 'the anti-curse of greyface', is about to hit the shops (thank god!), so i can finally start designing a winter collection.
my last collection experimented with laser cut wood and laminate and i am excited to try out some new ideas and new materials that have been floating around my head for 6 months or so!

What are you up to at the moment?
 
I'm currently showing in a group show in London, "That's Us/Wild Combination" at the Three Colts Gallery, it's a group show with Tonica Lemos Auad, Carolee Schneeman, Robert Mapplethorpe and others. I'm also starting a series of male photographic portraits, some of which will end up as pencil drawings, theres also several collages on the bedroom floor that are screaming to be finished, they're such greedy children.

How would you describe your work?
I've no idea, if i could explain it in words i wouldnt need to make it, a lot of the art makes itself, all the artwork is done at evening time, just a blade, camera and a glass of wine, maybe there's sigil's working within them, all of the work is a gift to someone, whether they know it or not.
 
 
Chose three words that you feel describes a successful image?
open / positive / secret
 
Who or what inspires you?
Everyday stuff like guys with jewellery, trinkets, the green language, the way some one walks, the sound of some one's  voice, the music of Coil, Nick Hudson, Joe Meek, The Chiffon's, the writings of Dennis Cooper, Josh Dalton, William Burroughs, the art of Richard Tuttle, Paul P, Ralph Chubb, kohbunny.
 
What have you planned next?
Callum James is publishing a limited edition book on my prose/poems and collages, "porcelain boy", after that id love to start showing my work more often, i don't have a gallery, there's a very limited art scene here in Ireland, Ive only shown twice in the last two years, London and Germany, so here's hoping.

schwipe started in melbourne in '99.  run by two guys , schwipe is a label focused on graphic design and quality garments. 

retardedly messed up with a dysfunctional ego, they be the ambassadors of unintelligent absurdity.
Combining this with a penchant for self-deprecation, this thing spawned. Initially only selling t-shirts, the schwipe grew into something bigger: a Mecca for the ambassadors of un-intelligent absurdity.
A label founded on stooped ideas and crazy times: that it is. Becoming a super-realist clothing label was no easy feat; blood, sweat, blood and a little BBQ sauce was thus required. It was only out of necessity that they started making our own clothes, because everything else was shit.
Staring romantically into the eyes of it’s influences: drunken argumented stupors, wacky substances, a nice piece of camo fabric, and an ill-refined understanding of the English language, schwipe got it’s shit on.

Whether is was the short attentioned spanned attention deficit disorders or the appreciation of a good drawing, the path that lead them to where they is ain’t that direct. Was this was the result of too many bongs and bags of goon juice? The medical evidence is inconclusive. it was only out of necessity that they started making our own clothes, because everything else was shit.
schwipe is a bunch of ideas, more than writing a brand name in the latest font on a pastel t-shirt.  Let us pigeon hole schwipe into a new “style” sub-genre, shall we?  ok.....it's "falling-asleep-fully-clothed-on-your-friends-couch" wear ....and/or "getting-hit-by-a-car-when-you're-going-to-the-bottleshop-at-2:00am-and-walking-away-from-it" clothing or even "being-searched-by-the-cops-for-weapons-when-all-you-are-doing-is-having-a-cigarette" gear;  ; getup for people who find themselves in situations they never quite know how they got into.

Schwipe's new range "THE SAVAGES ARE LOOSE" is straight outta the jungle. Having fallen viscously under the spell of voodoo, the schwipe winter range incorporates some cursed colour combos and wild graphics with hoodies, sweats, tshirts, jackets, jeans and loads of other gear for the brothers and the ladies.

Schwipe have just shown their range in Paris during fashion week at the 'rendez-vous' show, now it's time for you to check it out

'THE SAVAGES ARE LOOSE' range is out now, with over 20 stockists in London, Tokyo, Germany, New Zealand and all over Australia

GET LOOSE...CHEW THE ROOT....I EAT CANNIBALS....SCHWIPE.THE SAVAGES ARE LOOSE
and the name?.......'swipe' .........with a bonus 'ch' .............so it became their own. pronounce it as if twas plural. schwipeeeeeeeee.,

One might sigh at yet another teen coming-of-age film, I know I did at first, but I was completely taken with C.R.A.Z.Y. There are so many things right with Jean-Marc Vallee’s film: firstly the spot-on feel for period detail and charming kitsch art direction grabbed my attention straight away. Vallee and his ensemble of actors also manage to achieve that perfect balance between humour and drama, having us laugh one moment and cry the next. So all this off-set with intriguing characters and a killer soundtrack make for one of the most pleasurable viewing experiences of the year.

The film follows the life of Zac, born on Christmas Day in 1960, a fact that tightens the film's religious themes. But his mother (Danielle Proulx) is convinced he shares the Saviour's healing touch. More pressing is Zachary's deteriorating relationship with his doting father (Michel Côté). Forcing himself to like girls, and pushing down his questionable sexuality, Zachary tries to regain his father's adoration by doing the right thing but instead becomes tortured and rebellious. He is definitely the black sheep of the family, and always feels distant from his three older brothers, yet a strange bond that only blood can achieve. The family eventually cave under the stress caused by Zac’s junkie older brother (Pierre-Luc Brilliant), and also Zac’s under-lying sexual feelings for boys, regardless of the fact that he has a long-term girlfriend (Natasha Thompson).

Zac often escapes into fantasy fuelled by music such as the Rolling Stones and David Bowie, and it’s scenes such as at Christmas mass where Zac imagines himself levitating above the choir to the accompaniment of the Rolling Stones' "Sympathy for the Devil", and another scene where Zac lip-syncs in full make-up to David Bowie in his room unbeknownst to him that his brothers and neighbours are watching. It’s moments like these when Zac crashes back into reality, that are pure gems that add to the rollercoaster ride that makes this film adorable.

Even though the surrounding cast are stereotypical, particularly Zac's brothers, who have roles such as “the geeky brother” or “the sports fanatic brother” it all seems to work. Zac’s sexuality is not the focus of the film, but more so in addition to the fact that he is supposedly “blessed” by God, is overly compassionate and supposedly has the power to heal, and his displacement in an overly masculine family all add to his extreme feeling of isolation.

The two-hours-plus running time could easily be trimmed, although the extreme ups and downs and likable characters help keep the ball rolling. Michel Côte and Marc-André Grondin are especially fine at fleshing out the conflicted love of father and son, and in the end it’s this over-whelming sense of familial love and finding ones place in the world that may force a tear in the films finale.

WORDS by Jason Lingard