Abstract
The work "Syren" exhibited in the group exhibition - Making a Splash: Mermaids and Modernity (8 September- 13 November 2017, Macquarie University Art Gallery).
We were just offshore as far as a man’s shout can carry, scudding close when the Sirens sensed at once a ship was racing past and burst into their high, thrilling song.
(Homer, The Odyssey)
Forewarned by tales of Jason’s voyage in the Argo, when Orpheus saved the day,
Odysseus took his sharp, short sword and sliced an ample wheel of beeswax, moulding it in his two strong hands under Helios’s burning rays, making it pliable.
One by one, he stopped the ears of his crew with the moulded wax. The job done, two crewmen lash him tightly to the mast then return to their benches to row in silence, their waxen plugs reproducing the labyrinth of their pinnae, harbingers of the spirals of Edison’s phonography inscribed into wax cylinders. In the silence, each man replays the rhythms of his pulse, syncopated with oar strokes, to evade the deadly intoxication of the Siren’s song. Entranced, Odysseus yells roughly at his men, demanding that they untie him and row ashore to the Sirens but the crew row on, oblivious to his rant. Danger past, Odysseus scowls at his men, who have steadfastly refused to release him to follow the Siren’s hypnotic call.
And here the abstract for the exhibition:-
The mermaid has had particular longevity as a figure in western culture. Originally associated with classical mythology and regional European folklore, she has been exported to non-European locations by mariners, colonists and, more recently, through popular cultural media such as film and television. While there were a variety of forms of mermaids and the associated figures of sirens in medieval art (including winged and/or snake-tailed ones), the standard form of the mermaid that has emerged over the last two centuries is one that comprises the upper half of a (usually, young and attractive) human female and the lower half of a fish. As such, she is not a hybrid – blending aspects of fish and human – but might rather be identified as a portmanteau creature, combining heterogeneous halves that are abruptly delineated where flesh intersects with scales. Within a realist frame, such a creature is clearly ridiculous. Yet the repetition of her form in a series of representational contexts has resulted in an enduring
We were just offshore as far as a man’s shout can carry, scudding close when the Sirens sensed at once a ship was racing past and burst into their high, thrilling song.
(Homer, The Odyssey)
Forewarned by tales of Jason’s voyage in the Argo, when Orpheus saved the day,
Odysseus took his sharp, short sword and sliced an ample wheel of beeswax, moulding it in his two strong hands under Helios’s burning rays, making it pliable.
One by one, he stopped the ears of his crew with the moulded wax. The job done, two crewmen lash him tightly to the mast then return to their benches to row in silence, their waxen plugs reproducing the labyrinth of their pinnae, harbingers of the spirals of Edison’s phonography inscribed into wax cylinders. In the silence, each man replays the rhythms of his pulse, syncopated with oar strokes, to evade the deadly intoxication of the Siren’s song. Entranced, Odysseus yells roughly at his men, demanding that they untie him and row ashore to the Sirens but the crew row on, oblivious to his rant. Danger past, Odysseus scowls at his men, who have steadfastly refused to release him to follow the Siren’s hypnotic call.
And here the abstract for the exhibition:-
The mermaid has had particular longevity as a figure in western culture. Originally associated with classical mythology and regional European folklore, she has been exported to non-European locations by mariners, colonists and, more recently, through popular cultural media such as film and television. While there were a variety of forms of mermaids and the associated figures of sirens in medieval art (including winged and/or snake-tailed ones), the standard form of the mermaid that has emerged over the last two centuries is one that comprises the upper half of a (usually, young and attractive) human female and the lower half of a fish. As such, she is not a hybrid – blending aspects of fish and human – but might rather be identified as a portmanteau creature, combining heterogeneous halves that are abruptly delineated where flesh intersects with scales. Within a realist frame, such a creature is clearly ridiculous. Yet the repetition of her form in a series of representational contexts has resulted in an enduring
Original language | English |
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Place of Publication | Sydney |
Publisher | Macquarie University |
Size | 400 x 15 x 10 cm |
Publication status | Published - 8 Sept 2017 |
Keywords
- sound sculpture