Jacinta Schreuder, Make it
Hot, 1996
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This is a candy-land; candy coloured
shelves with candy coloured window awnings and candy
coloured girls. It is a land devoid of any depth,
darkness or shadow, constituted instead by strips of
thin wood which flourish and revel in their distance
from anything resembling 'reality'. Presenting a
smooth and impenetrable surface they are content to
skirt and skim the surface, satisfied to be a vision
of such sterile and flat brilliance that they exude
an aura of decay and a sense of suffocation, caught
up in a terminal and fatal silence. Four objects:
propped up against the wall stands a huge swap-card
(one), a memento from the 1970s it is something to be
bought, sold, bargained and bartered for. Frozen
forever in her original stasis the girl offers
herself as an image of blinding saturation and
repulsion. Her Hair as an organic abstraction,
perfect in every grasping tendril is echoed in the
helmet of short, pink, girl-hair in the smaller room
(two). Lime green shelves (three) are positioned at a
child's height along the wall, strangely absent of
any toys they hint at collections of objects and the
spaces used to house them, collections normally
stored in a child's musty bedroom (and children are
always the best collectors). Pink and white blinds
(four) fit neatly over the windows, shades designed
to keep the harsh Australian sun out of suburban
homes, but here positioned on the 'wrong' side of the
window plane, protruding into the room instead of
sliding off the to the outside.
We have been given and imaginary dream landscape
where the inconsistent references to location, size
and space creates a sense of distance and of
inversion. We are pulled in many different
directions: up, down, inside, outside, bigger,
smaller, adult, child. Outside when we look at the
house front blinds; inside when we look at the empty
shelves. Small standing beside the massive swap-card;
large next to the shelves hung low on the wall. In
our normal perception of the world there is a
determinable sense or direction, but in this world we
are moved in all directions simultaneously. Spatial
relations have been displaced to create a sense of
fragmentation and abstraction, distance and
proximity, and the obscure selectiveness in
presenting these particular elements supports an
other-worldliness. Unknowingly embodying all these
sense and elements is the orange girl smiling coyly
at us. Being too large and too small, standing in an
indeterminable space of inside and outside, past and
present, she is caught between two worlds: the
over-grown girl and the dwarfed adult. Alice . . .
perhaps. . . ?
Andrea Tu
1996
© The artist,
writer and
Courtesy of the First Floor Gallery
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