check.....


'The Creative Potential of the Awkward: Sarah crowEST'
a feature article by Wendy Walker in Artlink, Vol 27 no 4

or

'Video art: A short guide to now' by Andrew Frost in the latest edition of ART & AUSTRALIA, Vol 45 No 2 Summer 2007



Get Rid of Yourself Now
Sarah crowEST
and
Weet-Bix Kid
Matthew Bradley
at
Experimental Art Foundation


The recent works of Sarah crowEST and Matthew Bradley showing concurrently at the EAF, subvert some ideas of 'normal' behaviour ('normal' of course being a highly subjective and generalized term and by nature something to be challenged). Expected social acts, such as applying eye shadow or restricting our adult imagination, are scrutinised and transform into the absurd, bizarre, oppressive and unnatural.

Bradley's 'Weet-Bix Kid' perhaps attests to what occurs in growing boys who have eaten too much of this nutritious and fibrous food. An Australianism of a kind, the 'Weet-bix Kid' could be known for his (one usually thinks of a boy on a BMX) energy, youth and wholesomeness. But as shown in this exhibition, a violent imagination and rebellious challenger is also the part of the norm of youthful boys. This exhibition takes us through a myriad of dangerous backyard occupations (perhaps undertaken by the artist in his youth) of invented weapons, death-jumps and challenges to a youngster's perspective on mortality. When the same challenges are thrown into adulthood, as in this exhibition, interesting things occur.

The climbing of an electricity tower, documented on film in May Dawn gives a sense of danger as we climb, pole by pole, with the artist and experience the thrill of not being caught in the early morning light. Another piece, Empire, captures planes across an often dawn-lit Adelaide sky and reproduces them flying upside down. Reminding one of those 'what if' games (where lying of your back you can imagine being able to walk on the ceiling, or even on the clouds), the planes are altered into other-functioning machines, almost appearing like UFO's. Electricity poles feature in every plane shot giving an industrialised feel and distorting directions.

Either cutely repulsive or repulsively cute, crowEST's creatures disarm you with their contradictory appearances. As Ken Bolton explains in his catalogue essay that accompanies this exhibition, the cute judgement doesn't always sit nicely: 'perhaps the 'cuteness' stands in for the colourful charm often attributed to other cultures: CrowEST has us attribute it and see that we have done so, caught out as patronizing, smugly dehumanizing - or able to see the reflex that way and move beyond it'. This is a truth applicable to much of crowEST's work. Immediate labels of cuteness are halted by thoughts of the artist's intent and further held back by our association of 'cute' sometimes equaling a patronizing put-down.

But perhaps the idea of 'cute' alters as it transcends cultures. The connection of these works with a generalized Japanese cuteness, known as kawaii, is something to be considered. Both similarly embody 'cuteness' within creatures and characters. Examination of the Kawaii phenomenon, (of critical interest of late, particularly due to Murakami Takashi's 'Little Boy' exhibition) suggests the overly cute may be being applied as a barrier or shield to obscure deeper issues..

As animator Yasuo _tsuka has noticed, there are different kinds of cute characters, some with long and other with short limbs. In his theories he breaks them down into 'introverted' (short arms) and 'extroverted' (long arms) characters and noticed a preference for one from differing cultures. Another reading could be as 'functional cute' and 'non-functional cute'. Hello Kitty, perhaps the epitome of current 'cuteness', sits in the non-functional cute camp. Her little stump arms are too short to reach her face, should she want to feed herself, but she also lacks a mouth. Her benign and missing facial features render her mute and quite expressionless. crowEST's creatures range between the functional and the non; with many functioning for the sole purpose of amending their real selves through procedures, processes and rituals.

crowEST's works in 'Get Rid of Yourself Now' are enticingly textural. The Joy of Beauty, a film of several performances interspersed into one another, star various creatural performers methodically (though rather unusually) moving through various beauty techniques. The advantage of texture expressed in film, is the added element of sound; here distorted by being both sped up and slowed down intermittently. When a soft malleable, almost dough-like goo is applied and rubbed into a head, or egg-growths sprinkling the lower legs are eliminated with a knife and hammer, sound and texture make for lovely chipping, slopping, scratching and sticky sounds.

Sound is perhaps one of the strongest elements of this show as it not only affects the film, but also permeates work outside of the darkened room. Rather eerily, the speeding and slowing of the film captures the voice of crowEST speaking throughout her performing (and also that of the cameraperson) and alters it from a haunting growl (the stuff nightmares are made of) to a humorous speedy chipmunk voice, then back again. If the creatures weren't absurd or otherworldly enough already, these distorted voices throw them in a spin between amusing and horrific, informing the work with another layer.

The creatures hung on the gallery wall gather mainly in mobs. While they have their paint and their best sequins and beads on, snippets of untamed beauty poke through. The existence of these beings is entwined within the pressures of keeping up appearances. Obviously they have spent a lot of their time preening but alas, the real self always peeks through. This exhibition is a wholly effective approach to what can be an overdone subject.

by Sera Waters

www.dbmagazine.com.au/368/viz-arts368.shtml




Sarah CrowEST: Getting Away With It


Tired of pictures in magazines making you feel fat or unattractive? Well this exhibition explores that phenomenon and what we can do about it.

Editorial

Getting Away With It is a new exhibition from Adelaide based artist Sarah CrowEST. A response to current media trends that dictate to consumers what is, and isn't, beautiful, this exhibition features subjects searching for a solution to the problem of body dissatisfaction. This struggle is depicted by CrowEST through a DVD projection, entitled the joy of beauty, which doesn't just critique this modern problem but also attempts to come up with a logical solution and investigate the reasoning behind it.
"The proliferation of makeover shows on television has increased our exposure to plastic and reconstructive surgery affecting the ways in which we think about the appearance of human beings," says CrowEST. "The joy of beauty video shows a lo-fi humorous approach to solving the dilemmas of body dissatisfaction ... The work doesn't seek to critique all attempts at an aesthetic improvement but considers the inherent potential for both pleasure and disgust."

Rachel Gaines, February 2006
from www.nt.citysearch.com.au/profile?id=59178






Dieting and Delinquents by Jo Higgins
22 August 2005

Diaries of delinquency and the dilemmas of bodily dissatisfaction form the basis of two new exhibitions opening this week at Adelaide’s Experimental Art Foundation. An unusual pairing perhaps but the work of Matthew Bradley and Sarah CrowEST continues the EAF tradition of showcasing innovative work that is diverse in media and interdisciplinary in scope.

Matthew Bradley’s The Weet-Bix Kid is, in the artist’s words, “a kind of diary of delinquency”. Believing that the path through space must be created – that it doesn’t pre-exist, The Weet-Bix Kid follows the journey of a solitary figure through the urban landscape, recording the marginal behaviour that so engenders “delinquency”. Documenting behaviours that range from manic playfulness to cheeky irreverence to reckless, occasionally illegal acts, Bradley’s work is not so much interested in delinquency as a destructive act, but in the creativity inherent in the journey, which Bradley believes is the key to avoiding a complete descent into chaos.

A literal record of these journeys, one such work is 5-9 May Dawn, which is a helmet-cam recording of someone breaking into a sports field and climbing a 30m light tower without any equipment.

Get Rid of Yourself NOW! is Sarah CrowEST’s solution to solving the dilemmas of bodily dissatisfaction. Lo-fi and humorous, CrowEST’s works present creatures both cute and pathetic engaging in a series of home beauty remedies including body sculpture and surface enhancement. More an exploration of the inherent potential for both pleasure and disgust in these rituals than an overt criticism of the desire for aesthetic improvements, Get Rid of Yourself NOW! includes the video work The Joy of Beauty which is CrowEST’s response to the singular idea of beauty promoted by multi-million dollar advertising campaigns.


Bradley and CrowEST have both exhibited extensively. Bradley has participated in the Museum of Contemporary Art’s Primavera exhibition in Sydney and CrowEST, as well as exhibiting widely overseas, is also the Co-curator of Adelaide’s Downtown Artspace.

The Experimental Art Foundation was established in 1974 by a group of Adelaide artists and theorists as a place for the exchanging of ideas and the exploration of new approaches in the visual arts. Exhibitions, forums, publications and special projects are all regularly scheduled at the EAF, which is now housed in the specially-built Lion Arts Centre.

- Jo Higgins


Matthew Bradley: The Weet-Bix Kid & Sarah CrowEST: Get Rid of Yourself NOW!

The Experimental Art Foundation
25 August – 24 September

article from: www.stateart.com.au/sota/hit-list/default.asp?fid=3708






SHIMMER

excerpt

....Which is where we take a little divergence to a work which is a performance of physicality and connection. Sarah crowEST's video installation is entitled Globe for Strolling and features a playful and somewhat absurd performance which is played out by a girl with a large globe encased on her head rolling another large globe through urban spaces. We watch as she takes the globe on a walk, and is both in control and controlled by the globe. The performance speaks of spacial interaction but also a more personal interaction if we imagine the globe as another person. It is satisfying to see that the globe from the performance video is situated in the gallery and I am surprised when I start to roll it that it is heavy and filled with what sound like small beads, and being able to feel the weight and audibility of the globe lends a new reading to the performance.



SHIMMER, Artspace, Adelaide Festival Centre, 2005.

www.invisiblecity.org/writing/shimmer.html






SCAN 2003



Sarah CrowEST, snow creature

I’ve known of Sarah CrowEST’s work for a long time, yet it’s hard, now, to define it—which is its strength, and its vulnerability (in the best sense). Coming from an established craft background in textiles, the move into arts practice is a mere footstep, an addition and an elasticity. And, language means everything in this move, or movement between and across genres. In CrowEST’s work every move makes a difference—this is the great continual break (and breaking): that everywhere/place is the space of making and showing: unofficial streets, official public space, art gallery, craft gallery. The work seems, overall, one of secreted memory, ambivalent about where things should, or could, or will be. And more, how they might appear, or make an appearance in the world (eg how will a ‘snow creature’ cope in an Adelaide winter). Small passive creatures live in boxes, and other creatures want to live there too; the places we make, make others placeless. This strange divide between place (unconditional) and placelessness (contingent) is a political imperative—how do we regard others (will the black ‘beetles’ crawling up the side of the boxes be welcomed?).

CrowEST makes boxes for those who seem to belong—weird creatures anyway. Other ‘things’ become ‘blobs’; rounded, stone-like, fabric coated shapes—not quite seamless–replete with ‘what’ they might be...tomorrow. Pregnancy is a dangerous state, the benign appears quiet (as hell). There are too many extraordinary works to write of, each finely realised, like the exhibition at Downtown Art Space, earlier this year, where, in the catalogue, Bridget Currie wrote: “A slow heart beating. In parts, the delicate hairiness of spores, mould mounds, fungal bloom...Moist sludgy love.” It is a particular poetic that Currie engages–an illicit quietness. CrowEST’s latest work snow creature, part of BUILT! an ephemeral public art project (an Adelaide Festival Centre Trust Visual Arts initiative), was bashed the first night it took up its position at the King William Street side of the centre. CrowEST repaired it for the next day’s opening. The snow creature was there for 20 days, and continued to be ‘bashed.’ Perhaps all ‘snowmen’ are beaten and broken; that could be their ‘invitation.’ Still, it was a stranger in our midst, incongruous, small, even lost. Sarah CrowEST’s work questions whether care is possible in the face of incomprehension.

Linda Marie Walker (from Realtime, 2003)

www.realtimearts.net/rt57/crowest.html