These notes were read at the announcement of The Harbour Sculpture Prize at Balmain Rowing Club on 21st November, 2020
First of all I would like acknowledge elders past and present from the Wangal people of the Eora Nation who have taken such good care of this place. Thank you.
Thank you to all the organisers of The Harbour Sculpture Prize, Linda Bell, Ingrid Tkatchew, Catherine Timbrell and all those I have not met, who believe in art and hope. The show looks amazing, so amazing that as of 2.30 pm today, I still have not made a decision.
Thank you to all the sculptors who applied and those sculptors who were selected. I am privileged to be part of this celebration of sculpture and culture.
I don’t know how many of you here who have been reading my blog, accessed from my website.
I have for some years been trying to identify what is The Sydney School of Sculpture. We know that a number of sculptors have been working within a sculptural language that is mainly applied to the use of steel and also to the experience and appearance of the local landscape. The project is coming up to being one hundred years in the making. Those sculptors have attempted to synthesise their experience into material. Amid discussion and competition over the years that language has flourished and developed and will be identified by culture historians to have been worthwhile.
Some of the steel works here today belong to the history of that discussion.
Some here today may imagine that my prejudice towards that history will eventually emerge in my choice today despite my stated openness to other modes of practice.
It is not what we are looking for ultimately that guides us. It is what takes us and holds us, that surprises us and subverts our expectations.
Mastery of material really helps, when the sculptor can account for themselves and their experience. Seeing something that had not otherwise been identified is always good. Sometimes we encounter a sensation we have had, also has a shape we had not seen before.
It’s not what we are looking for but when it’s there in front of us we should have the grace to acknowledge it, so that it can grow and not be starved, as we are culturally, sometimes inclined to do.
The task then is in identifying quality that rises above category. Which work here will stand the test of time? Which of the sculptural songs will we keep humming, down the track?
Art prizes also produce so many more losers than winners. More pain is provided than pleasure here today, despite this festive and wonderful occasion. No matter how many times I have failed in my prize attempts, the bruising is short-lived, because I am there again the next year with the same trust in ‘truth’ I brought with me the last time I entered.
We are all privileged to be part of a culture that can find and hold its voice. It is imperative this is acknowledged and protected when other forces can so easily dismantle achievements made.
Culture is always under threat. On top of the ongoing presence of the Wangal people, the cultural history of Balmain runs deep. Since settlement we have been privileged to share our lives here with writers, trade unions, artists, musicians and poets.
That which is embedded needs to be actively maintained. We must continue to agitate against ‘compliance’ to survive here, culturally intact.
This exhibition contributes towards that.
Before I announce the prize winning work, and to extend this beautiful moment a little further, I would like to recite my short poem. It is called the Balmain Traffic Song. It was written in 1990, erected as a sculpture and fence in 1999 in Robert Street Rozelle and was removed last year. The work is awaiting re-installation somewhere in Balmain.
Our lives are led, the streets are full. The air is filled with the wretched fuel. At night the cars are tucked up tight, as close as the curb allows.
By day they flee on a shopping spree, The Mullens Darling run.
From town we come past old White Bay, at 80, 90, a 100 K.
The roads are drains we waste along, Robert Street, here we come.
We're charging up, you can hear us roar.
From time and peace you will hear no more.
There's work and space, and things to do. While the engine is running, our blood does too.
We lock them and shine them and make them sing, Their song is a siren, the Balmain sting.
STOP!
There is something we think we cannot do. There are currents and waves and tides too.
There's a voice that is rising and floating along, And we can steer it and shape it And make it as strong as the voice of the reason of machinery's song.
So while logic and facts and circumstance declare, A brave new voice returns the stare. It can be done, the cars will go. We must know belief will show .
The winner of The Harbour Sculpture Prize is Catherine Castillo Alferez.
Christine. Would you like to come and accept the award?
Harbour Sculpture Prize ‘Fungi Feet’ by Catherine Castillo Alferez.