Art & Old Friends

Saturday was a lovely, lazy day.

Slept in until 10.30am, having had a relatively quiet night last night. Said quiet night, unfortunately, meant I missed a mate's impromptu South Yarra housewarming as I already had a prior engagement: a collaborative gig by poet Sean Whelan and band The Mime Set.

Like too many of the gigs associated with the Overload Poetry Festival, it was a bit of a debacle. Festival organisers hadn't checked Dante's sound restrictions, and had slotted the band in on a Friday night without considering the potential clash between the venue's dinner patrons and a hybridised rock-poetry performance.

I arrived to discover that the band were not playing. They, apparently, had only found out the previous day, when one band member arrived to check out the PA, that they would not be playing. To say they were not impressed would be an understatement. Sean battled on regardless, performing a stripped-back reading for the small crowd. Thereafter I went home, and actually had an early night for a change, which was much needed.

After lazing around reading the paper this morning, the afternoon consisted of art, light exercise, absinthe and old friends.

Stilgherrian, who I became friends with in my early 20's when I was a member of the Society for Creative Anachronisms, had let me know he was going to be in town and asked if I'd like to catch up. My answer was a definite yes, as it had been over 10 years since we'd last seen each other. But first I had an exhibition to see.

I want to break free was a solo exhibition by Melbourne artist Lily Hibberd at Richmond's Karen Woodbury Gallery. Yesterday was the exhibition's final day, so I made a concerted effort to see the show before it closed, and I'm glad I did.

A series of large-scale works painted on linen (one of which is shown left) explored the fears and tensions of domestic life, while a set of smaller paintings played with the emotional states associated with the main works. "Every time I think of you I cry," one of these smaller paintings tells us. "You might as well take everything," reads another. "I want to break free (Security Screen)" hinted at the secret fears kept hidden behind a comfortable suburban facade, evoking loss and hope as well as a sense of claustrophobia or agrophobia. Other works depicted individuals struggling with their everyday surroundings, or even dead in banal circumstances.

I struggled with the urge to buy one of the smaller works, having finally paid off my credit card recently, but eventually decided against such extravagence. Good exhibition, though.

I walked most of the way home, and soon after jumped on a tram and headed into town to meet up with Stil and his partner. We caught up over a beer, and - still talking - made our way first to the National Gallery in St Kilda Road, where we checked out a small but intimate photographic exhibition, American Beauty: Photographs of the American Social Landscape 1930's - 1970's. Some superb work, including this 1969 photograph by Lee Friedlander entitled Mt Rushmore.

Afterwards I took the boys to the Gin Palace, where we lounged about and I drank Pernod absinthe. It was all rather lovely, and it was definitely a pleasure to catch up with Stilgherrian again after so many years.

Later that night I was picked up by an oldmate Darren, and we drove out to Box Hill for dinner, drinks and a session of our friend Mark Morrison's new Dungeons and Dragons campaign set in Reformation-era England, in which the newly restored monarchy of Charles II is threatened by demonic forces. Much wine was consumed, much fun was had, and I eventually crawled into bed at about 3am, rather the worse for wear.

A splendid day, however!