Living Data at the Muse

Living Data
16 August 2012 - 26 August 2012
'Subak'

Subak Installation: Margaret Brooks and Christine McMillan

‘The subak reflects the philosophical concept of Tri Hita Karana, which brings together the realms of the spirit, the human world and nature. The subak system of democratic and egalitarian farming practices has enabled the Balinese to become the most prolific rice growers in the archipelago despite the challenge of supporting a dense population.’ http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/1194/

Recently inscribed by UNESCO the subak is now on the World Heritage List as ‘Cultural Landscape of Bali Province: the Subak System as a Manifestation of the Tri Hita Karana Philosophy’

 The Subak works are the outcome of an Artist in Residence in Bali. The research was informed by the work of J. Stephen Lansing and the shared life experience and knowledge of locals both rice growers and artists.

Christine McMillan: from mountain to sea

Christine McMillan: Tipat, altered lino prints

The tipat is my symbol for the complexity of life in Bali, the everyday overlayed with the ceremonial, the ceremonial inseparable and intertwined with the cycle of rice growing. The story told by the use of sustainable and unsustainable materials embodies the sustainable Bali which is struggling under the pressure of unsustainable influences.

Margaret Brooks: Rice for one meal, one day, one week

I have chosen the tipat as a symbol of the Subak. Tipat are everyday food; packages of cooked rice from the Subak paddies. They are also religious offerings in the Subak temples. My work with tipat explores the fragility of ancient and sustainable rice growing practices of Bali. It questions how much rice is enough and how we might protect the Subak for future generations.

Christine McMillan: Ground Cover at the Muse

The BUZZ

A couple of quotes
 Rennie McDougall artsHub
http://www.artshub.com.au/au/news-article/reviews/arts/documenta-13-191115

I think most of us have a memory of an inexpressible communion with a work, where something profound happens to your chemistry, your atomic make-up vibrates with some incomprehensible shared understanding between you and everything else. Simultaneously simple and complex, ecstatic peace. After this kind of encounter we enter a space of yearning, a yearning to return to this ecstatic, peaceful sensation. Or is that just me?

Quality is resonance. I’m not talking about what we like and what we don’t. The quality of work is inherent in its actual resonance in the world. To again speak from the festival’s own words, “The human body shapes and supports the particularity of a place, and so do artworks.” Every thing has its own inherent resonance. We take for granted that an artist understands and listens to the resonance of their form. But equally as important is the openness with which we, as observers, can quieten ourselves to listen to these resonances. Once we begin to judge, we may decide that we love or hate something, but both love and hate imply strong resonance. The problem of “why is everything so terrible?” is that the more seasoned we become as an audience to art, the harder it is to quieten the inner critic in order to listen to the quality of the artists’ work.