under is over the top.
At the heart of this sprawling soft sculpture a flickering
kaleidoscopic anima snatches at our attention. It transfers
and transforms a moment of serendipitous fascination
experienced by Ferracin on one of her daily bush walks near
her suburban Sydney home. In shafts of bright early morning
light piercing the shadow of forest trees, tiny flying insects
enacted their cryptic reproductive rites, gleaming, chasing,
oblivious. Present, there in that moment, with the insects,
the light, the crisp winter air, Ferracin filmed the ancient
performance on her mobile phone, capturing it to share in
future translation in the space of Art.
Enveloping this iris-like flickering presence, a heaping sinuous
tangle of neoprene offcuts, a by-product of industrial shoe
manufacture, smothers the floor. A skein of knotted black
rubber inner tubes protrudes from the ominous body, reaching
out across the floor - searching tentacles? a swimming tail?
a probing organ?
This lumpen mass of excess from our culture of excess,
dispossessed and uprooted from its originating industrial
economic context, can do nothing but become.
It becomes a complex knotty impossible organism, a shotgun
wedding between debris and invention, pollution and inspiration.
It becomes some mutable thing to ponder, to impose meaning
upon, to drag away from inchoate distress toward the calm waters
of interpretation. It becomes a catalyst for discussions about
hidden waste, mindless consumption, mysterious creatures,
monsters and holidays.
It becomes Art.