Revolutionary self portrait

'Revolutionary Self Portrait' (2009) is a sculptural self-portrait. The work comprises a bust engulfed in hair and a scalloped pedestal stand. Historically, divine energy has frequently been depicted using fluid forms - drapery, clouds and occasionally hair. These forms and associations act as a departure point for this sculpture in which the figure is depicted in a state of inundation by billowing tufts hair. The work was also inspired by the tendency of great 19th century utopian thinkers - for example Marx, Bakunin and Kropotkin - to wear large beards. Within both traditions, the language of heroic subjectivity is amplified by a sculptural extension of the body. In 'Revolutionary Self Portrait' however, this extension threatens to suffocate the subject - a gesture made all the more ironic due to the fact that the artist himself is incapable of growing a beard. The work was selected for the National Artists' Self Portrait Prize, University of Queensland Art Museum, 2009.

Author in waiting : self-portrait of Peter Goldsworthy as a boy

Review of His Stupid Boyhood by Peter Goldsworthy (Hamish Hamilton, 2013).

Flop II

An installation of sculptural objects that combine references to the portrait bust, drapery and socle with quotidian and incidental objects from the artist's studio. The work form part of the artist's ongoing self-portrait project in which he enacts formal strategies for tempering the authority conveyed by the self-portrait as an artistic genre.

Love at first sight : Sanja Pahoki

I am a landscape architect, a non-photographer, and in reviewing this exhibition, it seems that in a critical discourse on photography the nature of the view and its relation to the observer (presumably the camera) is inevitably a key focus of creative inquiry, in an epistemological sense. In conducting such a review, of 'self-portraits' by 'female photographers' in relation to 'the landscape', one cannot help but ask what priority this critique should allocate to each of these conceptual agendas, quite apart from the simple formal quality of the individual pieces themselves. Analytically, each could form the axes of a matrix that might allow for a number of quite different permutations and therefore differently conclusive commentaries on the others: the view vs landscape; the view vs sexuality; the self-portrait vs the landscape picture. All of these would be productive in their own right and each is alluded to in the works themselves and in the narrative of the catalogue. Considering this range of possible permutations, this show is certainly rich and this richness sits well with the relative formal saturation of the images themselves.

Protrusion I

Protrusion I is a self-portrait bust, rendered with a high degree of naturalism. The work depicts a male subject with a bulbous white form projecting from it nasal and oral orifices. The work forms part of the artist’s ongoing self-portraiture project, in which the tensions between objectivity and subjectivity that pervade the self-portrait as a genre are cross referenced with the notions of materiality and interiority integral to the language of sculpture. The iconography of the work parodies the connection between amorphous form and artistic subjectivity in the history of sculpture. The dough-like forms that emerge from the figure thus refer to a sense of ‘inner life’ while also operating as more analytical projections of the cavities of the bust – areas of the where the mimetic program are necessarily suspended. The result is a figure that appears to be in a state of resigned suffocation. The work was selected for the 2005 National Sculpture Prize and Exhibition at the National Gallery of Australia in Canberra. The work was later included in the group show Crash (and other earthy pleasures) at the Lawrence Wilson Art Gallery at the University of Western Australia in Perth.

Whe' yu' from?

"Whe' yu' from?" The question was put to me as I wandered, camera in hand, in the old square of Spanish Town, Jamaica's former capital. The local man, lounging in the shade of one of the colonial Georgian buildings that enclose the square, was mildly curious about what he took to be a typical white tourish photgraphing the sights of the decayed historic town. At that time, my home was in Kingston where i lived with my wife and baby son. I was then working in the Jamaican Government Town Planning Department in a job that took me all over the island. Turning to my questioner, I replied, "Kingston". There was a brief pause, and then the man spoke again: "No Man! Whe' yu' really from?" I still have difficulties when asked this question. Where am I from? What does this question mean? Does it refer to where I was born, where I spent my previous life or where I live now? Does it have a broader meaning, an enquiry about my origins in terms of background and previous experience? The following chapters are my attempt to answer these questions for my own satisfaction and, I hope, for the amusement of others who may be interested in the life of an ordinary English boy whose dream to travel and see the world was realized in ways he could not possibly have imagined. Finding an appropriate title for this book was difficult. Thursday's Child, North and South and War and Peace all came to mind but, unfortunately for me, those titles had been appropriated by other writers. Thursdays's Child is quite a popular book title, presumably because people who were born on that day and, in the words of the nursery rhyme, had 'far to go', are especially likely to have travellers' tales to tell or life stories of the rags-to-riches variety. Born on a Thursday, I have travelled a lot and I suppose that I have gone far in life. Coming from a working class family, I 'got on' by 'getting a good education' and a 'good job'. I decided against adding to the list of Thursday's Children. North and South would have reflected my life in Britain, spent in both the North and South of England, and my later years, divided between the Northern and Southern Hemispheres of the globe, as well as in countries commonly referred to as the 'advanced' North and the 'underdeveloped' South. North and South has already been appropriated by Mrs Gaskell, something that did not deter one popular American writer from using the title for a book of his. My memories of World War Two and the years afterwards made War and Peace a possible candidate, but readers expectnig an epic tale of Tolstoyan proportions may have been disappointed. To my knowledge, no other book has the title "Whe' Yu' From?". I am grateful to the Jamaican man whose question lingered in my memory and provided the title of this memoir, written decades later. This book is a word picture. It is, in a sense, a self-portrait, and like all portraits, it captures something of the character, it attempts to tell the truth, but it is not the whole truth. This is because it is not my intention to write my entire life story; rather I wish to tell about some of the things in my experience of life that have seemed important or interesting to me. Unlike a painted portrait, the picture I have created is intended to suggest the passage of time. While, for most of us in Western society, time is linear and unidirectional, like the flight of an arrov or the trajectory of a bullet, memory rearranges things, calling up images of the past in no particular order, making connections that may link events in various patterns, circular, web-like, superimposed. The stream of consciousness is very unlike that of streams we encounter in the physical world. Connections are made in all directions; thoughts hop back and forth in time and space, from topic to topic. My book is a composition drawn from periods, events and thoughts as I remember them. Like life itself, it is made up of patches, some good, some bad, but in my experience, always fascinating. In recording my memories, I have been as accurate as possible. Little of what I have written is about spectacular sights and strange customs. Much of it focuses on my more modest explorations includng observations of everyday things that have attracted my attention. Reading through the chapters, I am struck by my childhood freedom to roam and engage in 'dangerous' activities like climbing trees and playing beside streams, things that many children today are no longer allowed to enjoy. Also noticeable is the survival of traditions and superstitions from the distant past. Obvious too, is my preoccupation with place names, both official ones that appear on maps and sign boards and those used by locals and children, names rarely seen in print. If there is any uniting theme to be found in what I have written, it must be my education in the fields, woods and streets of my English homeland, in the various other countries in which I have lived and travelled, as well as more formally from books and in classrooms. Much of my book is concerned with people and places. Many of the people I mention are among those who have been, and often have remained, important and close to me. Others I remember from only the briefest of encounters, but they remain in my memory because of some specific incident or circumstance that fixed a lasting image in my mind. Some of my closest friends and relatives, however, appear nowhere in these pages or they receive only the slightest mention. This is not because they played an unimportant roles in my life. It is because this book is not the whole story. Among those whe receive little or no mention are some who are especially close to me, with whom I have shared happy and sad times and who have shown me and my family much kindness, giving support when this was needed. Some I have known since childhood and have popped up at various times in my life, often in different parts of the world. Although years may pass without me seeing them, in an important sense they are always with me. These people know who they are. I hope that they know how much I love and appreciate them. When writing my memoir, I consulted a few of the people mentioned in this book, but in the main, I have relied on my own memory, asided by daiary and notebook entries and old correspondence. In the preparation of this manuscript, I benefited greatly from the expert advice and encouragement of Neil Marr of BeWrite Books. My wife Anne, inspiration for this book, also contributed in the valuable role of critic. She has my undying gratitude.

Revisioning the self : self-portraiture as educator professional development

This paper focuses on a series of self-portraits I created between 2003 and 2009. Each portrait holds a series of layered images that the final layer conceals. As I created the self-portraits I also created written thinking in the form of a research journal. This a/r/tographic (Irwin & Springgay, 2008) research activity investigates the acquiring and accruing of visual art teaching knowledges and practices. I use as a premise, an opinion that the information acquired on an Education Degree slowly fades over time so, what is ‘information’ becomes ‘memory’. Memory is eventually what informs teaching, if further professional development is not undertaken.

Toward Self-Organising Service Communities

This paper discusses a framework in which catalog service communities are built, linked for interaction, and constantly monitored and adapted over time. A catalog service community (represented as a peer node in a peer-to-peer network) in our system can be viewed as domain specific data integration mediators representing the domain knowledge and the registry information. The query routing among communities is performed to identify a set of data sources that are relevant to answering a given query. The system monitors the interactions between the communities to discover patterns that may lead to restructuring of the network (e.g., irrelevant peers removed, new relationships created, etc.).