Art 4 TROG Exhibition
Gallery 1 & 25th to 22nd May
The
current exhibition at Newcastle Art Space is in support of cancer research,
specifically the Trans Tasman Radiation Oncology Group (TROG).
There are so many personal stories
on the wall in the gallery; all stories about lives interrupted and altered by
cancer. While reminding us of our vulnerability
and mortality these stories speak loudly of determination and hope. The artists have opened their own particular
dialogue about their experience but the collection of stories unite us all as
every adult knows or will know someone who is affected by cancer of some kind
in their life. It is a fight we need to
take on as one community.
The exhibiting artists are Joerg
Lehmann, John Sorby, Sarah Orrett, Linda Adams, Gael Connop, Mitch Revs,
Christina Frogley, Michéle Heibel, Judith Bee, Marika Osmotherly, Shirley
Cameron–Roberts, Brian Roberts (1934-2015), Megan McCarthy, Dorothée Heibel,
Michelle Louise and Polly Rickard.
While
the art is wonderful and inspiring, it is their stories that resonate with
life. For this reason I am not posting
images only the artists’ own words. The
images need to be seen and experienced in person in the gallery.
In
March last year I was diagnosed with breast cancer. The next nine months saw me having surgery,
six months of chemotherapy and five weeks of radiation. These works are
reflective of my experience at this time, the loss of control over my own
life. My body was no longer mine, but an
object to be “treated” by the medical profession. However, I was still in there
somewhere with a life to be lived and I got through it. My two works are
watercolour, pencil and ink drawings that are A3 size. The works are reflective of my treatment
experience. Feelings of unreality during
that time, and a feeling of disconnectedness while trying to stay grounded. The
figures are only partially visible amongst a swirl of unrelenting colour and
movement around them that they have no control over.
Julie Ingle
In
2010 my husband, Brian Roberts, was diagnosed with throat cancer and went
through an intensive course of radiation and chemotherapy. After the treatment
he returned periodically to the Mater for follow up examinations and scans and
eventually a full body scan which showed no sign of cancer - that was the good
news - but did reveal a large abdominal aortic aneurism that needed prompt
attention. When we saw the AAA scan we were fascinated to see that the interior
of our bodies repeats patterns we see all the time in the world around us in
trees, the roots of plants even watercourses. Most of my painting is concerned
with these patterns.
Brian’s
life threatening aneurism was repaired and we thought it amazing that if he had
not had throat cancer and a full body scan we would not have known it existed.
At that stage we did not know that there was more in store for us and that
Brian would be diagnosed in early 2015 with pancreatic cancer. My painting
Repetition in Nature – Interior World was heavily influenced by this experience.
Shirley Cameron-Roberts
Brian
Roberts’ landscape and seascape paintings were concerned with atmosphere and
movement around Australia’s eastern coastline. Bays and waterways were
especially interesting to him inspiring moody paintings in thick swathes of
pure rich oil paint. His aim was to flow with natures ever changing energies.
His paintings were expressions of pure joy at the wonder of the natural world
heavily influenced by childhood hours on the beach and sailing near his home in
Victoria, travels along the east coast in Australia and twenty four years at
Eccleston near the Barrington Tops state forest and national park.
Brian Roberts
Using a
partially complete Aran cabled sweater and many balls of my spun Angora yarn from
1989 I have created this artwork in 2015. I used Angora fleece from my own
goats … shorn, spun, plied and knitted. It depicts the life journeys of my
three adopted children with all the bends and twists that life has thrown at
them and allowed me many hours of contemplation and appreciation for all the
experiences in my life. It also allowed me time to reminisce about my father’s life journey with his three primary cancer
diagnoses. Dad was a farmer and he would have appreciated the process of using
natural resources and the time and energy that were associated with its’
creation. The twists and turns represent the bumpy roads we experience in our
journeys through life. The threads represent ‘hiccups’ in life, including false
starts and unfulfilled notions and ideas; the cables are the ‘ties’ or
connections of my children to each other and myself, my family. I found the process of making the artwork very cathartic as relationships and
reflections are always important in our lives.
Judith Bee
These
paintings are representations of Newcastle's
very active working harbour viewed from the water. I have seen the
struggle of my partner Louise’s mother and sister, who both succumbed to lung
cancer in the last few years. They were great supporters of my work
and this exhibition provides an opportunity to make a contribution toward
cancer research in memory of them.
John Sorby
A.
has been battling cancer since a young age. She recently had a small tumour
surgically removed from her left breast. She fights and lives on as a strong
and beautiful woman.
This
set of applicators from an x-ray unit was used in an operating theatre to treat
the cavity in the breast after surgical removal of a tumour with the intent to
neutralize any remaining cancer cells. The size of the applicator was selected
based on size of the cavity. The x-ray source was in the middle of the
spherical applicator tip.
Being
a carer for a loved one suffering with breast cancer is an emotional
experience, particularly when it happens early in a person’s life or career.
But in every new day, there is hope. These early morning images are symbols of
hope and joy.
Joerg Lehmann
Cancer has touched my
life in many ways. When my partner was diagnosed with cancer we were not to
know that this was the start of a lengthy, deeply upsetting journey. After
keyhole surgery to remove the tumor had gone dreadfully wrong, he ended up in
Intensive Care for three weeks clinging to life and enduring countless surgical
procedures. The significance of our being on this earth and our relationships
with others were brought into question. But we never lost hope and he managed
to slowly partially recover although still burdened with the fallout, both
physically and mentally. This was again highlighted when I did an
artist-in-residency at the Mater Hospice. What I noticed was, that however
heavy the burden is, hope is very often still present which I am trying to
convey with this sculpture.
Marika Osmotherly
When
I first met Audrey, she said, “Should I shake your hand, or give you a hug?”
She had me pegged in five minutes. She was a wise old lady then, a devout
Catholic with a love of music and an open heart. I was in my early twenty’s,
carefree and ‘fly by the seat of your pants’ irresponsible. Audrey was a breast
cancer survivor, eventually it took her, but only when she was ready. Ready to
go meet her maker and see her husband again. When the time came, she gave me a
rose, a hug and said goodbye. Five Years Later, follows the statistic that 66%
of people diagnosed with cancer in Australia are still alive five years later. It's
a reminder to all of us, to have fun, have an open heart and enjoy the small
things in life.
Megan McCarthy
No matter what is happening in your life, there is always a light
at the end of a tunnel. For me, this was my battle with cancer in what
should have been the prime of my life. Light illustrates hope, and hope should
be held on to tightly, no matter what the circumstance.
Sarah Orrett
My husband was originally diagnosed with
aggressive, invasive bladder cancer in August 2013. After surgery and chemotherapy he was
declared clear at each follow up scan until and including March 2015. In June 2015 it had returned and he was told
not to expect to see Christmas of that year.
He didn’t. I nursed him at home
until the end. When
my husband first learnt that his cancer had returned and that it was terminal
he immediately started the process to donate his body to science. This and to die at home were his two main
wishes. He was accepted, although his biggest fear was that he would die before
receiving this acceptance. Regrettably
he did not time his death well and the University was unable to take him due to
lack of room. By the time we found this
out he probably was not aware so was hopefully spared the pain of regret. He did die at home. I therefore had his body
cremated. This series is stage 1 of a
group that will eventually use his ashes at its core. Although he was unable to achieve his goal of
donating his body I am sure he would love to have known that he will be
immortalised in art and that he will always be in his garden at home.
In January 2016 I took myself off to Cuba –
could I find many other places more exotic or challenging? This series reflects
my moods, emotions and thoughts as I travelled.
At times sad and unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel and at
others a little opening crack that allowed a peek at what might happen. Perhaps even a glimpse of the relief that he
was finally released from this horrible disease.
Gael Connop
It is both inspiring and heartbreaking to watch the
sick looking after the sicker. Carers truly are our society's fragile
superheroes and they deserve all the support and recognition we can offer them.
Michéle Heibel
These works express the
fascination with the passing of time and the natural decay of elements. At the
time of photographic these works my mother became terminally ill with bowel
cancer and her body began to take on the appearance of being weathered and
tormented by the illness. Although the photographs of the orphanage belong to a
much bigger set of works and text which form part of a book, these works most
link to my feelings about my mother and the memories of her struggle with the
illness. Buildings once strong, shiny and young performed a function, but now
take on a new future. Some become homes for the homeless, whilst others stand
empty a reminder to commemorate its past occupants. My photographs trace the
inevitability of the structure returning to its initial form. As brick turns to
sand, metal to rust and wood decays, textures and patterns remind us of its
past life.
Linda Adams
My father, a farmer in rural central
west NSW, made the 200km round trip every day for 6 weeks to receive radiation
therapy. As this bird in the night prey on his lambs, so did cancer on
his livelihood, his peace of mind and his way of life.
Christina Frogley
As my husband's cancer worsened, I found it very hard
to paint. It seemed I was unable to switch off and let go and there was an
underlying sadness that blocked my usually joyful style. This butterfly was the
first painting I did after Detlef's death. It was important for me to paint
something that was full of life and symbolic of new beginnings.
Dorothée Heibel
It is difficult to express in words
the grief and loss of losing our Dah, sometimes it I easier to communicate
through art. Each of these wearable artworks draw on our memories and regard
for our Grandfather, Frank Galvin.
Michelle Louise
I was 37 years old with two sons
aged six and 17 when I was diagnosed with late stage cervical cancer, requiring
a radical hysterectomy and vaginal reconstruction; not an easy thing to hear.
Everything happened very quickly from there. The operation was
successful and amazingly the cancer had not metastasised, so there was no chemo
or radiotherapy to endure, but my life was completely changed. Of course,
there would be no more children and I struggled to come to terms with my
altered body, but time brought acceptance and the realisation that
when one has faced the possibility of death and been given a reprieve,
everything that comes after is a gift not to be wasted. All this happened
almost half my lifetime ago, but I am still conscious that without the
wonderful medical treatment I received I would not have met my six wonderful
grandchildren, had a long career in the ABC or lived to find my passion for
sculpture in later life. Art is the expression of the artist and reflects
the sum of life experience, and the sculpture I have submitted to the
exhibition is a combination of the strength of steel with the ability to take
flight.
Polly Rickard
The beautiful beaches of Newcastle are a constant reminder of
not only how lucky we are as Novacastrians but how precious each and every
moment is. This artwork was created during the winter of 2015, inspired by
a friend who unfortunately lost his battle with cancer. The ocean is such a big
part of my life and everyone around me. I am lucky to be able to share
stories of adventure through these colourful artworks. Forever in the
waves, my friend.
Mitch Revs
These works were created on reflection of how the lives of
patients and carers are put on hold during illness and recovery.
Michelle Louise
Who is TROG?
The
research Group is a global leader in radiotherapy research. One in two cancer patients will benefit from
radiotherapy and TROG is working hard on ways to continually improve their
treatment. Working with doctors and researchers mainly in
Australia and New Zealand, TROG focuses on cancers that can be treated with
radiotherapy such as breast, lung, prostate, skin, head and neck.
Over 1,000 researchers and doctors have been involved in TROG research
studies. Most studies require patients and so far over 13,200 people have
volunteered to participate in more than 80 trials, helping our researchers
improve cancer treatments.
For information on TROG, donations, research and volunteers please visit:
http://www.trog.com.au/
Visit the gallery to see these works and read the stories at first
hand. Gallery hours Thurs - Sunday 12noon to 5pm.
