Deborah Curtis

The planet is transforming. We are transforming.

There are myriad indications and signs, as the auspices sound an amber warning of a sickness in our globalised humanity: early skirmishes over basic resources, power, energy and food; cracks appearing in our democracies; social unrest and authoritarian rule. Nature itself is manifesting the feedback loops of systems out of balance. Where are the bothersome insects that have always busied around us: the tiny horticulturists and waste managers; a land army of industrious workers? Can we remember when we last heard the raucous yet exquisite dawn chorus of our operatic, feathered migrants – a quietening uneasy autumn after a glowering summer.

Instead, blurred by the moral ambivalence of our fantasy superheroes and the manufactured angst of reality tv, the forest fires, parched peat bogs, and urban land fires are blazing on the edge of our screens. Scenes of flooded barren monocultures and failed crops seep into our consciousness. Daily reports of bullets being fired in schools in America and nuclear power plants in Europe threatening meltdown, together with our personal experience of escalating costs and empty shelves are unnerving portents of the fragility of our contemporary civilizations.

From the rubble of these auguries, are sprouting green shoots of hope; pioneering leaders appearing in business, community and culture; growing consciousness around issues of social justice; the clarion voices of indigenous peoples rising above the noise; the new, unfamiliar calls to action appearing through every billboard, tabloid and at every supper. [3]

Humans are ingenious, imaginative and inventive, are we not? We have got this.

Within this context, this exhibition representing two decades of artistic preoccupation, poses deep questions. What is it of our history and our past that we value - that we even remember? How do we create meaning, let alone art, from the burden of a labyrinthine past that has led to this place, this aesthetic invitation? How did we arrive here: an intellectual, ethical and visual wilderness hidden within the solid walls of a university town.[4] A culture steeped in ancient practices, rituals and academic rigour.

Perhaps the paradoxes within the artist’s work are clues; golden threads through the darkness of our minds; the shadow play of our internal monsters; blind spots in the brightness, clarity and rewards of the sun. These objects are shapeshifters, simultaneously witless and childlike, and yet with a virtuosity of production and intellectual playfulness that leads us, like children, through the labyrinth of our time.

Within these isles and beyond, our European, Elizabethan epoch gives way to a new unknown era, as we each, in our own way, embark on a personal odyssey.  In our search for meaning and value in obtuse and yet familiar objects, we are confronted by our natural curiosity: remembering the importance of valuing what we have, and where we are, and how we got here, so we can feel the possibility of our unknown futures.