Ivan, Leone and Olivia at the launch

Notwithstanding my going easy on the singing, by about an hour after the session I found I’d completely lost my voice. So when I elbowed my way into the packed Gallery 34 and realised what a sterling networking opportunity it was, I ended up playing a sad Harpo Marx for the evening. The gallery’s owner, Olivia Lawson, looked like a deer in the headlights. I was thrilled for her – there’s nothing better than having a lot of people turn up to your opening! Even though bodies were packed in like sardines, it was easy to see that the space is fresh and airy with good lighting – an excellent backdrop for Leone Gabrielle’s dreamlike naive paintings. Leone’s work has deepened in recent years with her personal explorations set against scenes gleaned from her northerly travels both within Australia and to Indonesia.

The gathering was upbeat, the champagne was plentiful, Ivan Durrant’s opening speech was succinct and entirely suited to the moment. Although I was feeling poorly, the mood of the evening lifted my spirits and refreshed my confidence that Yea is destined to become a destination for interesting art.

Other times an opportunity comes along with little time to plan, advertise, or think. An opportunity too sweet to pass up.

HotHouse Theatre approached us through channels (RAV’s Marilyn Gourley) some weeks back. The chance was there for us to bring Australia! The Show! to Yea for one night only. As you can imagine, there’s a lot of details to work out, and the negotiations took some time. We needed to be sure that we weren’t exposed to too much risk; not being a commercial organisation we don’t have money to burn, and there really wasn’t time to organise grants or any other sort of safety net. In time we managed to reach a very satisfactory agreement with HotHouse (thanks, Bernadette!) and it was all systems go.

Posters and handbills were customised and supplied by HotHouse Theatre, but we needed to organise our ticketing outlets first. We chose a couple of shops in the main street of Yea. Our idea is to drive some traffic to shops that people may not have entered before. We decided on unallocated seating – buy a ticket and grab the best seat you can find on the night – because it simplified our ticket sales. We designed our tickets to be as informative and unmissable as possible, printed and cut them by hand. Wrote the article for the newspapers. Sent emails to all our contacts asking them to pass on the good word. Phew.

Well, all that’s done now. We’re playing a waiting and hoping game. Will people come? We certainly hope so. If you’re reading this, and it’s not yet Friday 23rd July 2010 … book yourself a ticket or just come along. The night should be a hoot! It’s at the Yea Shire Hall. Doors open at 7:30pm for an 8 o’clock start. Adults pay $25, childen under 16 just $15. Tickets can be purchased from Frost Bite Cafe, or Sole Train Shoes, both in High St Yea. Alternatively, call Adam Dennis on 03 5796 9200 to book. Tell a friend, bring your auntie, get ready for a laugh.

Well, I’m here to tell you that if you weren’t there, you missed out on a truly interesting evening.

It started as planned, with our three panellists – Gary Male, Margo Oliver and Andrew Maclean – sitting behind the big table. Adele sat off to one side with her list of questions (some of which, she noted, came from Google; apparently there’s lists of questions to ask artists) and gently guided the conversation. It wasn’t just a Q&A session; Adele framed a theme with her questions, our panellists thought about the implications and discussed them. As we had hoped, the ‘audience’ was very involved in the conversation. After 75 minutes we really had to call time on the open discussion; there were other elements to the evening and we wanted people to get home before midnight! As the conversation came to a close there was a real sense of excitement in the room, with people bringing their own experiences and questions into the mix. Overall the discussion focused on artistic development – what led to our panellists becoming practising artists, what had hindered or encouraged them on that journey, how they responded to criticism, whether they thought of themselves as artists. It was all tremendously interesting and often unexpected.

We had advertised that drinks and nibbles would be available for sale on the evening; the café was closed, after all! Somehow we overlooked that people were going to arrive at 7:30 with empty stomachs. Ingrid and Lindsay were very generous with their time (again!) and plate after plate of garlic prawns arrived on the tables as the discussion progressed. I had already eaten, but the aroma was mouthwatering. Next time we’ll factor meals into the evening from the start.

After a short hiatus for coffee ordering and the hiss of milk being heated, Adam Dennis took to the hotseat and talked about being an artist in the songwriting and performing context. He played two songs, one of which he wrote only ten days ago. He spoke of trying to bring some of the spark of creation to each performance of his songs so that the audience sees something new rather than just a rendition.

Finally, we asked our panellists to talk us through some of their works. This was an opportunity to move from the conceptual to the concrete, from the narrative of being an artist (or not, if you don’t use that label) to the process of actually creating a piece. All three panellists provided a fascinating insight into their process. Gary noted that his satisfaction comes from meeting the challenge of creating each piece of furniture, of working with curves and grain and finishes. Margo showed how her favourite paintings capture the feel of light through trees on a flat horizon, as her face lit up with enthusiasm for the subject matter. Finally, Andrew showed his photographs and talked about the tension between capturing truth and allowing the viewer to bring their own interpretations to the finished work. It was also interesting to hear Andrew speak of his process; the deliberate blurring of focus in the camera, followed by enhancement on the computer and even the contribution of the printer to the final product.

It was a thoroughly entertaining and stimulating evening, immensely enjoyed by all. We’ll all be back for the next session on 26 June … and hopefully those regretful non-attendees will come along and participate in the discussion as well!

If that’s true, the walls of our our gallery display windows to many worlds. On the one hand there’s the crisp certainty of Sam Hicks’ photographs, images that can make me feel the warmth of a summer afternoon or the icy dew of morning on a hillside. Right next to those we have Myfanwy Davies’ Tumbarumba Memory, a painting that evokes an overwhelming sense of place with only the broadest of brush strokes.The contrast between the artists’ techniques is dramatic, but they seem to succeed equally well at communicating to the audience. Just after we hung Davies’ painting I saw a woman take a step back in surprise, saying “I know that place!”

I think the artist invested Tumbarumba with something more than just paint. She has captured the memory of the place, created a window to a moment in time and space. Far from being a mere map reference, it has become a world that she shares with us, a place with special meaning.

Joanna Bacher is another of our gallery artists who creates paintings rich in meaning. We have five or six of her works, all of which inspire discussion. Opinions vary about what each image means, and it’s always interesting to hear people’s perceptions. So when Jo delivered a new piece for our gallery wall on Good Friday and offered to explain it to me, you might think I’d have jumped at the chance to hear the ‘real’ story direct from the artist. But no, I realised that I didn’t want the artist to tell me exactly what her painting meant because that would take me out of the equation. My enjoyment would be muted because all the potentials of the image would be narrowed down to one, I would have no inner dialogue to engage with.

Having come to that awareness, I think maybe we’re all artists. Every time we look at an image and interpret it we are creating something new.

And in that case the meaning of art is … whatever we want it to be!

The implication for us was that the 100k North @ Marmalades gallery needed a refresh. Some items had been sold, some had been repossessed by their owners, and we still had more items in our stock room than we could possibly show. I rendezvoused with Curatorial Committee representative Gary, and the two of us pondered what should go where. Five new paintings from Jo Bacher prompted much discussion among staff and bystanders; discussion is a good thing, so we hung them all. Some hand-painted silk scarves by Susan Goldsmith presented us with a display challenge; they’re eye-catching but awkward to display. We wanted to have them near Simone Gibney’s gorgeous earrings, but they needed to be secured because they’re so slippery … it’s amazing how much time passes when you’re trying to solve little problems like that. Eventually Mrs Cluey came to the rescue with a metal rack that probably once held postcards; it was absolutely perfect for tying the scarves around. A healthy community solves problems by sharing ideas around, and this was very much the case with displaying the scarves.

Saturday night’s dinner was provided by the Macedonian-Australian community. While bands played onstage nearby, the volunteers prepared something like 750 meals for the thronging crowds from Yea, Glenburn, Flowerdale and other surrounding areas. It was a wonderful chance to eat good food and catch up with seldom-seen friends. Then on Sunday I was at the gallery by 9am to hang a couple of late arrivals (paintings, not artists!) and arrange for positioning of some new photographs from Margo Oliver. Then it was out into High Street where I enjoyed treats from the stalls, bought a very attractive hat for only $10, took a look at the newly-opened skate park and enjoyed Tim Rogers and his band immensely.

Marmalades Cafe – and thus the gallery – was busy throughout the weekend. Everyone I spoke with was tired but happy. Fortunately not too tired, because we had a Vocal Nosh gathering on Monday night. The arts never stop in Yea!