Isabel Kemp
The Rivers Secondary College Lismore High Campus
MY MOTHER COULDN'T, BUT I WISH SHE HAD
Drawing
Drawing pencils on wood
My mother and I are represented in my body of work, gazing intensely out at the viewer. My mother was disconnected from her Thai culture after immigrating to Australia at the age of nine and was forced to immerse herself in an alien western culture. Due to her deep sorrow and trauma, she could never share her culture with me, even though I wished she could. My work is intended to be viewed from both sides. On the backs of the portraits is a collage from passports and documentation transferred onto tin, laser etched with a culturally inspired pattern.
My artmaking practice has been influenced by the studying and interpreting the following artists: Chuck Close, Self-Portrait; Frida Kahlo,The Two Fridas.
Marker's Commentary
My mother couldn't, but I wish she had presents us with a highly evocative portrait of a mother and daughter gazing outward, emphasising a detachment existing between both. The mother looks directly at the audience with an intensity that uncompromisingly prevents a closer inspection into her world. In contrast the daughter's self-portrait gazes out despondently, desiring a connection with her mother that is denied. Little can be gleaned about each persona but the patterned tattoo on the mother's shoulder allows cultural or personal insights into her world and personality.
Imperfect timber pieces are roughly cut retaining their weathered and scarred condition accentuating the impact the detachment has made in the mother and daughters' relationship and inner emotional states. Strong drawing skills are apparent working on an unforgiving surface. These photorealistic portraits are rendered with loving attention given to the sitters' distinctive features and disposition. A monotone palette is deliberately maintained to concentrate attention on the conceptual intent of the work with blue highlights emphasising the mother's pivotal role in the tableau. This body of work stands as a daughter's heartfelt acceptance and lament of what could have been and perhaps is forever lost.