RMIT Project Space | Melbourne, Australia
8 April – 12 May 2016
A perfect circle of glass, once belonging to Stephanie Shield, is wedged into an imperfect ceramic lump; the smooth edge of the glass forcing rough cracks through the clay. A touch of terracotta seeps out of Mira Gojak’s unwanted copper pipe, subtle, but enough. The gentle fluidity of Elizabeth Newman’s rainbow shower mat, opposes the solidity of the stark ceramic form atop which it is draped. Contrasting materials converse in Sanné Mestrom’s series of unexpected sculptural encounters.
Mestrom’s ceramic sculptures directly respond to, and incorporate, the discarded scraps of “more established” artists. In her solo exhibition Leftovers at RMIT’s Project Space in Melbourne, Mestrom reimagines each remnant through a series of formal yet playful ceramic interventions. The once superfluous offcuts are reassigned worth, elevated to the status of contemporary art. Trash becomes treasure in this autobiographical exploration of both material and personal relationships.
Mestrom’s ongoing concern for the formal is evident; shape, line, form, mass, balance and texture are all considered. The potentials of positive and negative space are also closely explored. The banal is transformed into a series of unique abstract arrangements that address the artist’s modernist concerns for material, process and technique. The resulting sculptures, dictated by chance, are minimal, sophisticated and sincere.
Whilst the artist had little control over the materials that she would receive for this project, each sculpture is the manifestation of a series of conscious decisions that began long before the “found” objects reached her studio. Despite the initial air of abandonment to each object donated, there was also a process of selection involved, a reinstatement of recognised potential, that particularly inspired Mestrom: “These weren’t just any old scraps, they were cast out in the course of another artist’s own careful editing process. Each rejected remnant was immediately imbued with new value simply by being selected – picked up off the floor and handed over as ‘something’. The artistic process thus stretches far beyond the physical manipulation of the ceramic intervention. It began with a string of humble letters.
These letters are presented in a smaller adjoining space where they offer further insight into the provenance of the exhibition, and the personal life of the artist. Viewers are invited to sift through polite exchanges between Mestrom and gallery assistants, curators and directors – and if she was lucky, her artistic peers and role models themselves. Each of the artists contacted has profoundly influenced Mestrom’s practice today. For those obliging to participate, these personal narratives of generosity breathe warm life into the resulting sculptures. This is emphasised by the title of the works (ie. ‘Dear Lizzy’ (Elizabeth Newman) ). Each sculpture becomes a love letter. Recalling the relational works of Sophie Calle, the letters demonstrate the vulnerability of the artist that is central to this project. By displaying this documentation the exhibition is shifted from an objective exploration of materiality, to an intimate self portrait of the artist.
The series of exchanges also reveal the business side of the art world and associated hierarchies. Amongst those “artistic-heroes” contacted to no avail were international bigwigs, Martin Creed, Isa Genzken, Barbara Kruger and Roni Horn. As such, notions of value are addressed not only by the transformation of the received remnants, but also by the absence of those unattainable – which if present, would further raise complex questions about appropriation and the global art market.
Sanné Mestrom often describes her work as “art about art”. Leftovers is that. But it is also more. I am grateful to the artist for sharing a rare glimpse into the personal side of her practice. Whilst her work is as visually and conceptually strong as ever, it was comforting to be reminded that we are not alone in feeling at times intimidated, rejected, or insignificant. And it is these moments that make the support that we do receive, all the more valuable – and most certainly worthy of being proudly presented atop a shiny black pedestal. For after all, it is sometimes the leftovers that are the best bit.