Since I started this site about a year and a half ago, I’ve been thrilled by the number of readers who have sent me tip-offs, suggestions, articles to read, and other information. Some of them are regular correspondents, others are one-offs. Some are happy to comment in public, while others prefer to remain anonymous. I understand why anonymity is important for those wanting to avoid victimisation, but it also means there are some claims I’m unable to substantiate - and what can’t be proven generally can’t be written up without raising legal and ethical issues.
And so, to the anonymous “art lover” who has sent me some hair-raising tips about a major museum, I’m grateful for the information, but at this stage can only watch and wait.
Whether or not they lift their heads above the parapet, there’s a large group of people out there with an interest in arts and culture eager for a critical perspective on topics covered in the most sycophantic and shallow fashion by the bulk of the mainstream media.
If our public art institutions, politicians and funding bodies were doing such a great job that the only valid response would be to praise their efforts, we might consider ourselves well served by the kind of coverage served up by Disneyfied mastheads such as the Sydney Morning Herald and the Age, which have decided they no longer need critics. Surely, it won’t be long until they no longer need journalists, as it’s much cheaper to let AI repackage the press releases.
Having survived an attempted assassination by the paper I served for decades, I’m now able to sit back and reflect on the changes we’ve seen in the cultural landscape over the past few years. There’s no doubt the field has become more centralised, with small cliques of insiders appearing in many different locations. Institutions are quietly adopting rigid political stances that are never defended when challenged. In the absence of criticism and investigative journalism, remaining silent is the best way of ensuring you’ll be able to carry on with any dodgy practice. What’s even more alarming is that much of the media is not only willing to ignore obvious rorts and wrongdoing, it supports such activities, writing puff pieces on demand.
By now the rot has set in so comprehensively one can only be pessimistic about our chances of ever getting back to a more even-handed artworld, in which works are assessed in terms of quality not identity, by people with knowledge and experience. Most of the curators who fit this description have been marginalised and may expect to remain in this state until retirement or retrenchment. The wretched Powerhouse is the worst example of this process, but the malaise has spread like a virus.
A spectacular lack of vision from politicians and government funding bodies has created fearsome imbalances in which value-for-money, grass-roots activities have been defunded, while extravagant empire building is rewarded. There is only one possible outcome: a monumental financial and cultural meltdown. It’s only a matter of time, but the process is already well underway. The soaring support for the populist policies of One Nation shows how all that empty rhetoric about “social cohesion” is merely disguising policies which exacerbate division.
Political unrest is not only to do with inflation, cost-of-living, or the neglect of rural areas, there are powerful cultural factors at work. If we look to the United States, the Trump campaign was able to make highly effective use of the so-called “Culture Wars”, to stir up public anger. It enabled a sleight-of-hand whereby voters were so inflamed by these issues, they voted for candidates likely to have a negative impact on their jobs, educational opportunities, health care and welfare.
At some stage the jovial Barnaby Joyce may have to explain how One Nation can reconcile its support for disaffected rural and working-class Australians with its cosy relationship with a billionaire ideologue such as Gina Rinehart. One way of avoiding such questions is to keep hammering away at “cultural” issues, which includes public anxieties about migration and Indigenous affairs.
In this sense, Albo’s mob are playing into the hands of their enemies. The Federal Budget was a washout for arts and culture, with few significant cuts or windfalls. Most notable, for me at least, was the complacent support given to the National Cultural Policy, with its five shaky “pillars”, and extra funding for Creative Australia, as a reward for another year of dysfunction and scandal. It’s clear the Treasurer is happy to leave all the cultural stuff in the hands of Arts Minister, Tony Burke, who has shown a complete unwillingess to question any of the status quos he has created.
There are dangerous outcomes of the government’s cultural policies, and one of the worst has been the steady shift of political priorities in funding bodies, the national broadcaster and associated media. This has seen public money and exhibition opportunities channelled away from some groups, such as those of Jewish or Chinese origins (not to mention the Old White Blokes!), and lavished on those who identify as Indigenous or Muslim. In saying this, I’m simply identifying an obvious shift in focus. I’m not saying that Indigenous or Muslim artists are in any way inferior or less deserving than their Jewish or Chinese counterparts, I’m arguing that artists of all creeds and ethnicities should be allowed the same opportunities. This may sound like pure fantasy in the current political climate, but it is the way a healthy liberal democracy stays healthy.
What should be a source of alarm for the government is that their funding priorities and policies tend to mirror the views of that strident alliance of pro-Palestinian and Indigenous activists, who draw a false equation between Israel and Australia as “settler colonies”. The upshot of this political manœuvre, which ignores the radical differences between both forms of settlement, is create a group of saintly figures who are history’s heroes and victims, and another who can only be portrayed as villains. It’s historically preposterous to maintain such a fiction, but one sees the impact of these ideas in every part of our cultural life.
For instance, last week, I went to see Holding Light at the Bondi Pavilion. The show, organised by the Shalom collective, is billed as an “artistic response to the Bondi Beach terror attack” and includes work by both Jewish and non-Jewish artists. It’s a modest display of 28 works, both amateur and professional, incorporating painting, sculpture, graphic art, ceramics, photography and installation. Easily the most powerful piece is Michael Puterflam’s half-hour video, in which the families of those killed in December’s terror attack talk about their loved ones.
The film puts a human face to the victims, reminding us that every person, no matter how ordinary, had some part of them that was extraordinary. It should be required viewing for those celebrity antisemites who feel their freedom of speech is being impugned if they are expected to refrain from inciting hatred and violence.
While there’s a sombre, elegiac aspect to most of the works, there are also pieces that celebrate survival and resilience, such as Camille Fox’s Filled with Blessings – a portrait of her granddaughter, a young woman who has her whole life ahead of her. There’s even a painting by an Indigenous artist, Munganbana Norman Miller, who obviously doesn’t subscribe to the “settler colonies” narrative.
The most accomplished work is Ella Dreyfus’s Nature Morte – Zikaron, a suite of twelve photographs featuring flowers gathered from the Bondi Beach Memorial and left to dry. The faded bouquets against a black background make a simple statement about memory and mortality. Our memories of the Bondi killings will gradually fade, like the flowers, but these images will remain. It’s a piece that should be acquired for a public collection.
I searched for reviews of this show but the only ones I could find were in specialised Jewish publications, which is pretty much as expected. One might think that an exhibition linked to the Bondi massacre, which generated such an outpouring of public grief, would attract more attention. Instead, anything with a Jewish connection seems to be met with silence by a large part of the media. I’ve also begun to wonder about an ABC News Radio interview last week, in which I was cut off when saying something positive about Michael Zavros’s Archibald portrait of Alex Ryvchin. It didn’t register at the time, but afterwards I began getting inquiries about this rapid change of subject. It can’t be checked either way, because the ABC chose not to preserve the interview online. I doubt I’ll be asked to comment on arts matters in the future.
It may sound naïve or idealistic, but I genuinely don’t understand why so many people can’t be shocked and angry at the Netanyahu government’s callous actions in Gaza and Lebanon, without directing their anger at Jewish Australians or whitewashing Hamas’s barbaric crimes of 7 October. It’s the mentality of the mob, given respectability by the complicity of media outlets that quietly avoid some topics while going overboard on others.
One subject drawing torrents of gushing adulation from the media, is Khaled Sabsabi’s contribution to the Venice Biennale, which may be found in not one, but two venues. This double dose is a direct result of the cancellation of Sabsabi’s selection, which led Biennale director, Koyo Kouoh, to agree to host the show as part of the Aperto section. When Sabsabi was re-selected he took the opportunity to hang on to the Aperto space while also making work for the Australian pavilion. In the meantime, Kouoh had died, and no-one was about to change what she had set in train.
As a result, the controversy worked in the artist’s favour, making him “one of only three artists in the event’s 131-year history, to present work in both a national pavilion and the biennale’s main exhibition,” as an ABC report breathlessly informed us last week.
Unlike a large contingent from Creative Australia, I didn’t make it to Venice for the party this year, so I can only go by the reports available online or news from friends. This means I’m in no position to make any definitive judgements about either khalil, at the Arsenale, or conference of one’s self in the Australian pavilion. It’s not presumptuous to imagine that the lack of capital letters in these titles is intended as a sign of the artist’s modesty.
The former is described as a 40-metre-long painting of abstract lines, with a 64-minute video of abstract forms superimposed over the top. It obviously needs to be experienced first-hand, but it reminded me of those students at art school who try to turn a bad painting into a work of contemporary genius by projecting images onto it. I hope this is an uncharitable suspicion. As the work was completed in record time at Abdul Abdullah’s studio in Thailand, one can only suspect Sabsabi had a little help from some of the local elves. If he painted the whole thing himself, it’s most probably a feat of sustained industry rather than inspiration.
As for conference of one’s self, which is loosely based on Farid ud-Din Attar’s famous 12th century Persian poem, The Conference of the Birds, it too relies on large abstract pattern paintings, arranged in a hexagon, with shifting forms projected onto the surfaces, but it’s the peripheral additions that sound so intriguing.
According to an AI summary of the press accounts, “Visitors enter the central space through one of two interchangeable “thresholds”. These entrances feature door hangings inspired by Sanjak—sacred ceremonial textile banners used by Sunni, Shia, and Sufi communities. The banners were hand-stitched by a multicultural women’s hub based in Parramatta, Western Sydney.”
Meanwhile “The walls surrounding the installation are adorned with selected Islamic scripts chosen by Sabsabi to act as a symbolic form of spiritual protection inside the pavilion.”
Without having seen this multimedia installation one may ask two questions. Firstly: “How is it that the pavilion in Venice, which in theory represents the entire population of Australia, has been transformed into a showcase for Islamic religious signs and symbols, including masses of Qur’anic script that most Australians are unable to read?” Regardless of all the claims that Sabsabi is presenting a peaceful Sufi version of Islam that “operates as a broader metaphor for how coexistence, global unity, and healing from displacement require a deep, personal connection with both the inner and outer self,” I daresay this is not a display that will resonate with the average Australian. Some may see it as a great moment in multiculturalism but others will find it profoundly alienating. Needless to say, most Australians will not be visiting Venice to check it out, meaning that it’s mainly an expression of how we wish to be seen in the eyes of the world.
Second question: “Even if we allow that Sabsabi’s installation is a statement on behalf of peace and coexistence, how can Creative Australia justify transforming the Australian pavilion into a pulpit for a particular world religion?” It must be beholden on the government body that manages the pavilion to ensure this biennial display is a secular one, not devoted to the promulgation of any sectarian belief.
Imagine if CA had chosen a devout Christian who filled the pavilion with benign quotations from the Bible, and erected crucifixes and other Christian symbols around the doorways? (Remember Bindi Cole Chocka, the Indigenous artist-activist, who found Jesus and saw her artistic career disappear?) Imagine if they’d chosen a Jewish artist who coated the walls with quotations from the Torah in Hebrew, and displayed the signs and symbols of Judaism?
Neither of the above scenarios could ever have been taken seriously, so why turn the Australian pavilion into a shrine for the Islamic faith? It’s not exactly an unexpected scenario, when Sabsabi has said: “For me, Islam is the core, the foundation – and the inspiration.”
One of the most startling Instagram posts I’ve seen from Venice, was by Liz Ann Macgregor, the former director of Sydney’s Museum of Contemporary Art, who wrote: “Lovely moments at the Australian pavilion today. The sounds of the performance by the Anasheed from Western Sydney resonated out across the Giardini (not filmed)” The picture shows Sabsabi presenting four Sufis in long white robes and skull caps, who have just perfomed – or are about to perform – “spiritual songs and devotional chants popular throughout the Islamic world that express love for the Prophet (Peace be upon him)”.
I take this description from the website of the 2024 Adelaide Biennial, in which the same group, Ahbab Al-Mustafa, were flown down to perform in front of Sabsabi’s installation. I’ve been unable to find any information as to who funded Ahbab Al-Mustafa’s trip to Venice and their accommodation. Was the visit paid for or subsidised by Creative Australia? Did the artist dip into some of the money he’s been paid for his efforts? Was there a crowdfunding campaign in the western suburbs? I’d love to know.
Once again, imagine our hypothetical Christian artist flying in a group to sing hymns, or our Jewish artist bringing in a cantor to lead the faithful in prayer. It’s unthinkable – and so it should be. The Australian taxpayers who are bankrolling the Venice pavilion, have every right not to be subjected to expressions of any religious persuasion. Faith should be a personal matter, not a public imposition.
I’ve not been able to find a single report on the Australian contribution in Venice that asks any meaningful questions or portrays Sabsabi’s show as other than a triumph. The artist is universally written up as a hero who had to overcome the indignity of being unjustly cancelled before fighting his way back into the job. My position has been clear from the beginning. Given the ongoing bloodshed in the Middle East it was never appropriate to send an artist to Venice who has such clear partisan associations, especially when the CA selection processes were highly questionable. The heavy-handed religious aspects of the display only throw these concerns into sharper relief.
There was always a danger that this project would portray Australia as a clear supporter of one side of the Gaza conflict, making a mockery of all our diplomatic tightrope-walking. In reality, it has gone much further, professing our national allegiance to Islam even as the local news runs tabloid shock-horror stories about the ISIS brides returning to Australia. This religious charade in Venice has every possibilty of feeding into an already inflamed, divisive narrative. Commonsense would have suggested we avoid the tangled politics of the Middle East, let alone setting ourselves up as a bastion of one particular faith.
The media have done their best to make sure there is only good news from Venice, but if the tide turns, the government will have to explain why Sabsabi was reinstated when the nature of his work, past and present, has remained the same. It’s a case of institutional authority being swayed by a campaign that was perceived as capable of inflicting electoral damage in seats where there is a substantial Muslim population - seats such as that occupied by Arts Minister, Tony Burke. The government could not allow the impression that dropping Sabsabi was an implicitly anti-Muslim act. The result was a complete capitulation, which has allowed the artist to treat the Australian pavilion as a temple of worship.
It’s the other side of the coin to the government’s chain-dragging with Jillian Segal’s report on antisemitism, which was left to gather dust on a shelf until the Bondi incident induced a sense of political panic. As a result, all the report’s recommendations were rushed through without due discussion or debate, which may give rise to a whole new set of problems.
The overall picture is one of a culture in disarray, in which the government makes poor decisions for opportunistic, cowardly or ideologically blinkered reasons that can only lead to further disarray, while preaching the gospel of “social cohesion”.
While all this has been going on, the big cultural news last week was Delta Goodrem coming fourth in the Eurovision Song Contest. This inane extravaganza enjoyed saturation coverage across the media, as if all of Australia was hanging on the outcome of the contest. I felt like a visitor from another planet observing some incomprehensible frenzy among earthlings. When Dara from Bulgaria won with her Bangaranga number, that seemed a perfectly appropriate result. Nothing could have better summarised this festival of formulaic kitsch. At least it shows that audiences would sooner dance than sit around swooning at the false sentiment of some power ballad.
One may view the rise and rise of Eurovision – a contest in which we are geographical interlopers – as a sign of our ever-growing willingness to be deadly serious about shallow entertainment, while tolerating all sorts of abuses in the sphere of so-called high culture. Whatever distance once existed between these two poles, it is rapidly disappearing. To pause this descent into oblivion would be a bit like pausing a toilet in mid-flush, but against all the odds, I think it’s still worth a try.
The most recent art column is a chronicle of the triumph of trash, being an elegy for the Wynne Prize at the Art Gallery of NSW. The oldest art competition in Australia is now one of the most ridiculed, as it drifts ever further into irrelevance while practising all the cutest political stances. The Sulman, however, came as a pleasant surprise, being better than expected. All hope is not lost.
The film being reviewed is The Devil Wears Prada 2, which I watched with every expectation of another mindless, frock-and-celebrity affair, but found the comedy underpinned by a fierce lament for the death of journalism. It may be a sign of our times that the only way to get a critical message across is to enclose it in the glossy carapace of a Hollywood blockbuster.
Wonderful as always, John.