Alice Springs author and artist ROD MOSS has launched a third volume of memoir, Crossing the Great Divide, looking back at himself as a young, aspiring artist and the experiences that shaped him, coming up to the present. This abridged extract reflects on a journey to Sicily in 2008 and its resonances with his life in Alice Springs.
Blue Moon Bay, as a pictorial description of decadence, is laced with flatulent characters, debauched people who keep chewing on the chicken drumstick even after the fridge has fallen on top of them, writes BILL DAVIS.
"While Margaret’s story shares an intensity of incident I’ve heard from others of her generation, never have I been gripped in literary form by such warmth and candour about what such events have meant to an individual," writes ROD MOSS of the recently published autobiography of Margaret Heffernan.
Water for the embattled Whitegate camp, courtesy Lhere Artepe, and on Monday a rally outside the office of MLA Bess Price against the eviction of the camp's residents who've been there for decades. ERWIN CHLANDA reports. PHOTO: Felicity Hayes and Whitegate's water tank.
Alice Springs author Rod Moss has won the Chief Minister’s Book of the Year Award for his memoir, One Thousand Cuts, while the graphic novel, The Long Weekend in Alice Springs, by Craig San Roque and Joshua Santospirito won the Non-Fiction Book Award.
All blacks do is collect sitdown-money, right? Wrong – at least so far as a number of residents in Alice Springs town camps are concerned. They, including Glenda Hayes (pictured), are collecting drink cans – or at least have been, until the NT Government and the multi-nationals who make the stuff failed to put in place something as simple as a workable container deposit scheme. ERWIN CHLANDA reports.
A new volume of memoir and reflection on his art by Rod Moss has been published this week by UQP. Titled tellingly One Thousand Cuts, it bleeds grief, as violence, disease and death ravages his circle of Arrernte friends and at times leaves Moss reeling. The country becomes his “safety net” into which he leans to find joy and consolation. KIERAN FINNANE reviews.
At right: And dark was the night, 2009. A few days later the candle-bearer would stab his young wife, whom Moss shows here with their young son, 11 times.
Rodd Moss may mostly paint by the hard light of day, but the retrospective at Araluen covering his work in Alice Springs over three decades opened by candlelight and in an atmosphere of reverence. Why did this feel so fitting and potent? asks KIERAN FINNANE.
Pictured: Rod Moss (right) and friend in front of Movies is Magic.
Henry Smith's Slow Burn opened at Araluen last night. Smith has lived in The Centre for 16 years, exhibiting regularly both sculpture and two-dimensional work – paintings and drawings. His venture into abstraction is a new direction for him, or perhaps the next step in a decade-long direction:
“There are so many realistic paintings out there already. I challenged myself to come up with something different, a fresh point of view. Each one would start as a landscape. Then I developed a composition of shapes, textures and patterns, using different palettes, depending on the seasons. Play and chance came into it quite a bit and in some cases I reworked a piece three or four times until I felt it was strong.”
Fellow artist and author ROD MOSS shared his thoughts about the work with the opening night audience:-
Let me introduce this exhibition of Henry’s by paraphrasing something I wrote about his first show at Araluen a decade ago:
Those of us who have sought inspiration from living close to nature in Alice Springs can no longer make art reflecting its landscape without awareness of the political and spiritual connections that its indigenous custodians express in their representations. The proliferation of these has helped shape ecological debates. The great desert artists need no further endorsement. But there are those, like Henry who have sought political and spiritual connections themselves in relocating to this remarkable place.
For this landscape artist, that general statement remains pertinent. Though Henry has sought to re-invent his ‘picturing forth’ he is still himself. His interests, his curiosities, his devotions and sensibility continue on track. What might seem initially a radical change regards his approach is in essence a deepening of those intrinsic interests as he channels them into freer, more fantastic realms.
And from our archive:February 6, 2002. Henry Smith: The land is a mirror of life's struggle. Review by KIERAN FINNANE.