RUBY UDYS

This is Berlinde De Bruyckere  (“Belinda de-broke-ee-air”) 2012 artwork ‘We Are All Flesh.’ 

De Bruyckere has created a piece that disrupts the space. The space in the gallery, the expectations of art and of gender. While De Bruyckere has not been cited to acknowledge the feminist undertones of the intentionality of this piece. This is my feminist reading into my experience with ‘We Are All Flesh.’ AGSA summarises that “the artist has fragmented the body in order to express mental and physical states of being…to explore the nuances and complexities of the human condition.” I have been considering in the last few weeks of what it means to all be flesh, what it means to all be human and whether being female can be disruptive in a space too, just as this piece is. 

 Many visitors, as we may have already observed, aren’t often particularly pleased when they see De Bruyckere artwork in the gallery. Perhaps confronted, disturbed, uncomfortable, grossed-out and confused are more common reactions. De Bruyckere says the phenomena of her work “put[’s] the visitors on the wrong legs.”  In 2013, The Advertiser published ‘insight’ into De Bruyckere’s horses, offering up words of, “disgusting”, “evil” “perverse”, revolting” and “the product of sick and evil minds.” 

 De Bruyckere’s response to this general distaste of her work is that “you don’t have to be afraid of something ugly or strange, we all have our wounds…we have to learn to deal with it- there is some beauty in that.” 

 Art historian Frances S. Connelly writes in her book The Grotesque in Western Art and Culture (written in 2012): “What is most regulated in any culture is the body, particularly women’s bodies.”  

 De Bruyckere invites us to observe two bodies combined, although these are animal bodies, there’s a sensory experience which addresses our own standing in our unique bodies. If it isn’t our own bodies that we consider, we consider “bodies that are different, bodies that are other.” Thinking of this piece as bodies or in considering our own bodies, De Bruyckere describes that “skin is the container of the soul.” 

 When we think of our own wounds or perhaps even the ‘wound of womanhood or of gender’, it reveals a quality which is a “Hunger to explore and break down the boundaries of human experience, however anxious or unsettling—to deconstruct and reinvent the body”.

 The horses are what is instantly recognisable in the work, before we define meaning, structure, purpose, or anything else- we acknowledge that there are horses in this piece.  De Bruyckere recognises that horses work well in the conveying of the symbolism of war. War and therefore, fear, anger, and conflict. In addressing war,  there is a nod to a historically dominant narrative for men in society. In considering the historical and dated values and expectations for gender, it can be boiled down to the ‘hunter/gatherer’ ideal. Men are barbaric protectors and women are doting nurturers.  The opposite qualities of male and female gender expectations, can be linked to De Bruyckere exploration of representing the “duality between torture and taking care.”  In the posing of these two extremes, there is a proposition of the archetypes of femineity and masculinity too. 

 How far have we strayed from these ideals? How much further do we need to go? Are we upset or uncomfortable when we see something so abrasive in a space it doesn’t belong? Like seeing dead horses in the middle of an art gallery. Like seeing a woman disrupt or subvert expectations that are chosen for her.

 What binds as in our humanity and in our disquiet, is precisely our blood and flesh qualities. What we expect from each other and what we expect from gender is constructed and subconscious, we assign much more harsher meanings to the arrangement of flesh and chronozones which are our scaffolding. And we don’t like to be confronted by our flawed thinking.

 The medium of installation and sculpture, allows us to see something different from whichever various angles we choose.  We encounter different perspectives beyond 2-dimenstions, both figuratively and literally. 

I believe that in the consideration of the feminist context, this piece reveals what we don’t want to look at, what we are uncomfortable to sit with. This extends to physical, emotional, and political experiences of womanhood. What I mean by this is, how can being and existing as a woman in our world look and feel when it is at its most depraved, when there is blood, bodily transformation, rage, and unrest. What we don’t expect from femineity. 

  While these observations are instances inside the human condition, universally, experienced by all gender presentations, how do our bodies manipulate, morph, and entangle to house these concepts. For example, birth and menstruation in the giving of life. De Bruyckere reiterates this sentiment in explaining, “Life is constant change; we’re eating the world, the world eats us. We’re all mortal. We’re all human. We’re all meat. That’s seen as really traumatic.”    

So why is our humanhood so confronting to look at? Why do we categorise and divide ourselves with the constraints of gender constructs? How can our flesh, as we bleed and breath, be so frightening to observe? I think that De Bruyckere has summarised that essence right in front of us.

 In view of men and women as two separate entities, we witness in De Bruyckere work “Two separate bodies growing into each other.” In this instance the horses are one in the same. On a cellular level and in our flesh, and outside of gender, we are one in the same too. When these two worlds collide, we are nothing but equal.

  The experience of standing with ‘We Are All Flesh’ and feeling confronted is another instance of our shared experience, our homeostasis of human experience- void of any gender expression.

‘Anatomia Humani Corporis Meis (Anatomy of My Human Body)’, Ruby Udys, 2022, Oil paint on 91 x 91cm canvas.  

 TW: death, existential dread.

 “Anatomy is our inner reality, anatomy is us…An anatomical image of self” (Sappol, 2017). 

Typically, I will fall in love with a thematic concept first and then I will paint it until my heart is content. However, the process for this piece was slightly different…  

I had decided that I definitely wanted to paint a skeleton, much like ‘post-Humorous’ (2020), except have it be anatomically correct and measured to the proportions of my own skeleton (to the best of my abilities, using a measuring tape). Thematically, I had not assigned this concept any specific meaning, I just thought it might be morbidly fascinating to look at. As an Amateur anatomist, I have referred to the human body in a more emblematic way, rather than naturalistic and accurate depiction of the skeleton. Instead, what “feels” to be there and what can be measured (in my own experience of having a skeleton). 

 This is a self-portrait in essence, however any features that are associated with my being have been stripped and I am unable to be self-critical or make superficial associations toward myself.  This paining is a documentation of my ‘being’, that cannot be more and cannot be any less, than all other beings that exist, that have existed, and that will exist.  

Our skeletal structure is our scaffold, which represent and are associated with the decisions we make. The ‘framework’ that carries our perception of self and the perception that others can realise.  To hurt, and to be hurt, to love and be loved. 

Humans are so incredibly complex, but also, hardly do we differ from one another. Particularly when we are skeletons at the end of the day…stripped bare we aren’t left with much. I acknowledge in this artistic practice that my mind is my best asset, and it is also least tangible part of me. Is this all I am left with after death?  Crouching in contemplation (perhaps a little bit foetal?) a moment of stillness and consideration feels representative of my stature. This piece is a ‘Memento Mori’, meaning “works intended to remind the viewer of their own mortality” (Ebenstein, 2020). Rather than to remind the viewer of their mortality, the creation of this piece reminded the creator, the painter, the body that comprised the movements to create the painting. Artists as primary anatomists historically, such as Andreas Vesalius who made visual recordings of directed deceased in the 16th century (Sappol, 2017) compiling them in 7 books called ‘De Humani Corporis Fabrica Libri Septem’ translating to, "On the fabric of the human body in seven books.’ The undercurrent of artistic practice of artists making record of looking inwards spiritually, emotionally, and physiologically.

Interestingly, while I was painting this piece, I let my mind wonder and consider the absurdity of my choice of painting subject, however, this developed into the thought that, “my 14-year-old self would be so proud of me right now.” I am not sure precisely what prompted this realisation, but I had never nourished my inner-child and current-being with such a kind remark organically. This thinking solidified the fact that this is a self-portrait for sure. As I grow mentally and psychically, as I change my hair colour (as I had so often from 14…) and I put on weight, as experiences shape me and my authenticity aligns to my life at the time, my scaffold will stay just the same, although it may become weaker and older, bits of it may break, but it is unchanging despite all the changes that my external and mental experiences will go through. Life is just as inevitable as death; we can’t have one without the other.  

Here is a time-lapse of my process: https://www.rubyudys.com/selected-work?pgid=ku5lnxxo-0a239944-03b9-4ebd-8bba-75f5935b6bb3

References:  

Ebenstein, J. (2020). Anatomica: The Exquisite and Unsettling Art of Human Anatomy. Laurence King Publishing.  

O'Malley, C.D (1964). Andreas Vesalius of Brussels, 1514-1564. Berkeley: University of California Press. 

‘Untitled no. 1’, Ruby Udys, 2021, 10.5cm x 14.9cm, oil paint on board, SOLD.

Sneak peak of one of my pieces for @adelaidecentralschool ‘s exhibition ‘Wish You Were Here’ 2021🍓 This particular piece is based on this poem by M.C Richards from her book ‘Opening Our Moral Eye: Essays, Talks & Poems Embracing Creativity & Community’;

“In November

The strawberry hangs on a thread of sleep,

In May

This playlist is a collection of songs that not only convey the essence of 'Swollen into Shape' but also the music that provided a soundtrack to my creation process. This playlist is in addition to my artist statement on the piece, available here.  

“You can't reason with your heart; it has its own laws, and thumps about things which the intellect scorns”  – Mark Twain.    

One of the reasons I love to make a playlist of music to coexist alongside my paintings is, because I am able to access them like a time-capsule that is full of the feelings that possessed me to paint in the first place.  I have a similar reaction with each of the painting inspired playlists, but this one in particular causes a painful sensation in my heart.  

'Swollen into Shape' as it 'allergic-reaction-symptom-esque' title suggests, is a response to something very specific situation (a break up). As time has passed since this emotional event occurred, I have been able to move forward. However, how heart-wrenching it is to reopen this time-capsule in the form of a painting and a playlist and realise the immensity of feelings, and how luckily or unluckily, they come and go.     

"I have typically been a ‘heart person’, with my heart being the sole decision maker, high above my brain. ‘Swollen into Shape’ is a depiction of an emotional response in which the brain assimilates into a placeholder of the heart, swelling, bruising and sentimentally conforming into the structure of a heart. While the heart is full, it too, reaches capacity in its commercial and romanticised love-heart shape" ('Swollen into Shape' Artists statement, 2021).   

'Ur Name on a Grain of Rice' by Runnner.     

Lyrically this song, is a very familiar tale of post-break up thinking, such as, "should I call them and explain my feelings to them?" (No, probably not). Reminiscing about how 'wonderful' things were is so very painful, but this seems to be an element in the natural cycle that needs to be processed to eventually move on. Late last year, in planning out the painting of 'Swollen into Shape' I had identified that I often let my heart vouch for 'what if' ideals that ultimately involved more crying. Thinking about how great the times spent together were and how you might've acted differently with hindsight is a very 'heart over head' thinking, as logically, the break-up was meant to happen...but alas, the heart holds on to hope for a while too long... 

"I should have said so much to you

Which is lame but maybe kind of nice

Like scratch-offs in a birthday card

Or your name on a grain of rice...  

And we still talk but now it's changed

Does it hurt more to just move on?

Maybe I loved you

Or maybe I wanted to

See something through

Just cuz I never do

And I should call but i'm afraid

Of what you're gonna say

Notice all the ways I've changed

And all the ways I've stayed the same

...I'm shouting it now cuz I can't write it down

I let it pour out from the sides of my mouth

All sequined and stoned sucking in through my teeth" 

'Shiver' by Lucy Rose.    

In my mind, 'Shiver' and 'Ur Name on a Grain of Rice' are married. This is because in the time that I deeply connected with these songs, I was in the bargaining stages of my grieving, and they tell very similar stories of longing for someone who has long been unreachable, yet you'd still do anything to be with them. I have learnt since, that this longing is often at the cost of my self-protection and self-validation.  

"We sewed, all the holes we had to breathe

To make the other one leave

And I loved, the way you looked at me

And I miss, the way you made me feel

When we were alone...

And I'll shiver like I used to

And I'll leave him just for you

And I'll shiver like I used to

Just for you" 

'Crying All the Time' by Alexandra Savior.     

This was not at all intentional (and I am only realising this as I am typing) but I can recognise the theme of 'loss,' and therefore grief in 'Swollen into Shape', and continuing on the aforementioned stages of grieving structure, the next two songs correlate with the stage of depression. With this stage came much more crying, even more than before. 

"He doesn't like it when I cry (Cry, cry, cry)

And now he's gone, so I'm crying all the time" 

'Last Words of a Shooting Star' by Mitski.    

Listening back to this playlist with the time that has passed is painful, but this song in particular hurt the most. The intense sadness and profound emptiness is captured so beautifully in this song. A recount of disconnected lovers, a pair that are doomed to split. How wonderful it is that Mitski is able to create something so sensitive and so heavenly from the vulnerable moments when you feel so hopeless and you can't see the forrest for the trees. The heart is still high above the head at this point in time, but there is less pining for the past. 

"All of this turbulence wasn't forecasted Apologies from the intercom  

And I am relieved that I'd left my room tidy 

 They'll think of me kindly  

When they come for my things  

They'll never know how I'd stared at the dark in that room  

With no thoughts  

Like a blood-sniffing shark  

And while my dreams made music in the night  

Carefully I was going to live

You wouldn't leave till we loved in the morning  

You'd learned from movies how love ought to be  

And you'd say you love me and look in my eyes  

But I know through mine you were  

Looking in yours." 

'First Thing to Go' by Hayley Williams.    

I believe I mentioned it in a previous explanation for a playlist, about how I was thankful that Hayley Williams had been releasing the best break-up albums (of all time??) - 'Petals for Armour' and 'Flowers for Vases / Descansos', in the time that I needed them the most. I think Williams' lyrics are deeply reflective, and thats something I want to have in my artwork. I'd like to look back (as I sort of am now) and say, "I know how that felt, and I owe a lot to how that felt", to be able to look at my art as an "alter of all loves delusion." A deception curated by the heart but nonetheless, something sacred.  

"First thing to go was the sound of his voice, 

 I It echoes still,  

I'm sure but I can't hear it  

Was it gentle or cold?  

Or maybe just noise, 

 I Heard what I wanted, until I couldn't

Why do memories glow the way real moments don't? 

 I, my altar is full  

Of all loves delusion" 

'Breaking Up Slowly' by Lana Del Rey and Nikki Lane.    

I'm not sure what is more painful, a very sudden break up or a very slowww stretched out break up? Let me know! I'm not often an optimist, but it takes hindsight to say, "how did I not see that coming?" (perhaps this was my denial phase).  Denial and delusion seem to be the underpinning for "we can fix this", when what was really happening was 'breaking up slowly.' I think "it's hard to be lonely, but it's the right thing to do" is symbolic of the emergence of the heart and the head beginning to meeting each other at a level.  

"'Cause breakin' up slowly is a hard thing to do

I love you only, but it's makin' me blue

So don't send me flowers like you always do

It's hard to bе lonely, but it's the right thing to do" 

'He Knows I Love Him Too Much' by The Paris Sisters.     

The Paris Sisters are connoisseurs of doo-wop 60s love songs, their music has been the soundtrack for years and years of romances I have no doubt. 'He Knows I Love Him Too Much' tells a story of a love unrequited, something one-sided, where someone hasn't quite got the hint yet. I can sadly relate to this song because my heart dictated that I would do anything for someone who often wouldn't turn up for me. What can I say, heart over head.   

"He can stay away too long

Then come back like nothin's wrong

I'm a fool

And no one knows it better

Than the one I love"  

'I Know It's Over' by The Smiths.    

There is so much affliction in being in a situation that you once loved and you know it is coming to a close. Alike 'Breaking Up Slowly', Morrissey mumbles about how he knows the end is nigh for this relationship, as did I.   

The Smiths are my are my guilty pleasure. Yet another example of heart over head.  

"Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head

And as I climb into an empty bed

Oh well, enough said...

I know it's over, and it never really began

But in my heart it was so real" 

'Nude' by Radiohead.    

   I like this song because it depicts the arguments that a lot of us would have with ourselves during the post-break-up-blues. This song is essentially a reproach between the head and the heart. 

"You paint yourself white And fill up with noise But there'll be something missing

Now that you found it It's gone

Now that you feel it You don't You've gone off the rails

So don't get any big ideas They're not gonna happen" 

This article contains some selected music which I painted ‘Post-Humorous’ to. Music helps to narrate the feelings that are integral in my painting process.   

For a couple of years I have been using Spotify playlists as a place to 'journal' what songs connect to me during a specific time or during a specific feeling, for a general example, 'i am not happy & i am not sad' and 'something wonderful is about to happen'. I believe that music has the ability to capture a moment or a sensation in time. The wonderful part about this belief is, that I am able to revisit segments of my life and feel exactly as if it had just occurred to me. I am able to revisit my thinking and feeling in the time I spent while I painted 'Post-Humorous' in early 2021.   

This article is additional to an artist statement that I have written about the piece, available here.    

'Post-Humorous' was painted specifically for the exhibition 'The Illusion of Fame.'   

'Sea, Swallow Me' by Cocteau Twins.     

When conceptualising and drafting 'Post-Humorous' in my head, I imagined a deep blue skeletal figure emerging from a deep, blank, dark, contained space. The blue in mind was very specific and essential to taking an image from my imagination on to the canvas. The sea, is of course the biggest, bluest and most beautiful thing we have on our green earth. The wide blue sea is tonally inspiration and this Cocteau Twins sounds like a glorious, engulfing ocean. The song is so textural, and therefore there is an abundance of imagery that can be prompted to respond to in a creative process. Further still, the lyrics below mirror some of the delusion of the Hollywood 'dream' and 'ruling the world' through a perceived fame.

"Horizontal to mono re-zones and we'll promise your dreams" "At least the sea where libertyWill stand in place to seek and rule the world" 

'Blue Sunday' by The Doors.     

Back to blue. I was really determined to depict this blue hue, I probably even had some pretty 'blue' Sundays while painting. The Doors are of course important in the consideration of the illusion of fame, because of the front man, Jim Morrison being a member of the '27 club'. The 27 club being a collection of highly successful musicians who have died in the peak of their fame at the age of 27. Some other members of the 27 club include, Amy Winehouse, Janis Joplin, Kurt Cobain and Jimi Hendrix. 

'Biscuit' by Portishead.       

Portishead's music is indispensable to my art. Not only is their evocative album, 'Dummy', exactly what I am looking for in an album that is eerie, emotion-fuelled and searing with vulnerability...the album is also blue. 

“I'm lost, exposed Stranger things will come your way It's just I'm scared Got hurt along time ago I can't make myself heard No matter how hard I scream Oh sensation Sin, slave of sensation”  

'Teenage Blue' by Dreamgirl.     

I think that 'desire' or 'longing' comes up in my artwork subconsciously and indirectly frequently. This is probably because I often listen to music that relates to or is from an era where you might find yourself saying, "you are my one and only, forever" or even the potential of passing away from heartbreak. Twinkling guitars, 'doo-wop' and pining for one very specific person who is always unattainable, is what this song has going for it, and I feel that in my soul.  

"All that I'd ever see all that I'd ever believe is through

All that I'd ever see all that I'd ever believe is blue." 

'Why Do I Cry' by Margo Guryan.       

This song is gorgeous. The lyrics could also be a page out my journal. There was certainly a time in my life when I would cry every single day, and often I was unsure as to why. Nowadays, I cry when I am happy, when I am sad, when I am angry, when I am passionate, and on a Sunday morning...But thankfully not every day anymore. That was exhausting. In regard to 'fame', while it isn't explicitly related, I often think that the realisation of an 'undercurrent' is fascinating. For instance, "If things are going so well for me right now, why am I so miserable all the time?" What is it that you are missing? What is your skeleton in the closet? 

"Why do I cry?

On a Sunday morning

After Saturday night, was such a wonderful night

I should be glad,

Be glad that I could spend one night awake with you

Why do I cry?

When I have my coffee after you disappeared

It seems like almost a year that I'll be sad

So sad to only spend one night awake with you." 

'Ha' by HTRK.      

Can you tell I like moody music? This song is surely relatable to most, when you feel the need to admit something out of line to an ex lover. The statements in the lyrics are bold but they come from an ego which may allude to, "do you know who I am?!" 

"Can I be out of line

Сan we get back together?"

...

"If you stay

I'll make you a star" 

'Hiding in the Fridge' by Hildur Guðnadóttir.     

The music from the 2019 film 'Joker' I adore, but it's Hildur, the Icelandic cellist and composer who I adore most. I shamelessly went to see 'Joker' at the Cinema 3 times. What I feel from this piece, 'Hiding in the Fridge', is a brooding delusion and narcissist in solitude. This cold description could be a remark made to describe various people in the public eye. 

'Theme- From Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind' by Jon Brion.      

I love to listen to film scores when I am painting. It really romanticizes the whole painting process even more. 'Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind' is a magnificent film and the score carries the introspection and heartbreak with it. 

'Name Escape' by BODEGA.     

Finally, 'Name Escape' is the perfect song for a fame themed artwork. Detailing experiences that are all too familiar in the small town of Adelaide. The lyrics speak for themselves...

"Name escape Right now, name escape Name escape Right now, name escape

"Did you remember the Fender?" Said a familiar beard Whose band I always see Whose sound I never hear I cannot seem to place his face His nose or his shape Right now, name escape"

...

"And I've seen him at the poetry club closing our tabs I've seen him outside of metros hanging out cabs Hand on the fender, a message from sender I've seen his face but now no name remember

Online he's typing with a pseudonym So even messaging I'm not quite sure if it's him He never once makes eye contact When he talks he never once makes eye contact

And I have no idea what he does for a living Can't distinguish his head from the next His pants are much tighter, the last time we met." 

I always listen to music when I paint, and I'd like to share some of the songs that were the background music for my creation of 'Miscreation', or that accompany the disposition of the piece well...    

Listening back to this playlist takes me back to precisely the moments of time as I painted this piece.   

I have never publicly released an artist statement for 'Miscreation', as I do with my other pieces. I don't think I plan to either. Sometimes the intention behind art is indescribable, but I believe that these chosen 9 song illustrate the 'mood' (buzzword!) that went into this piece.  

'Out of Time' by Deb Never.      

This song is so moody, and so was I in July 2020, when I began painting 'Miscreation.' The title vaguely alludes to the exhibition the piece was featured in, 'One Minute to Midnight: a Nuclear Apocalypse Exhibition.' It's dire, but in terms of climate change, I feel that we are pretty much 'out of time.' 'Miscreation', was however, not painted with the exhibition in mind, it is just visually a natural sibling to the concept of universal catastrophe. What could have gone so wrong for this to happen to a skull and or a pomegranate?   

'So Heavy I Fell Through the Earth' by Grimes.     

As aforementioned, while I was paining 'Miscreation', I did not have the 'One Minute to Midnight' exhibition in mind thematically, I did however, listen to this Grimes song quite alot, which is totally set in dystopian hell-scape. I paint pretty slowly and often sit quite still for hours on end. This song is floaty, calm and almost dissociative. A song to listen to as you  enter that 'flow state.'

'Thrive' by Dyssidia.     

This song sounds like a vigorous painting process. It is also a sound which my wonderful friends made. Not only is it painterly, but it keeps me inspired in the way of, "look how wonderful and creative your friends are, aren't they clever!?" The world is full of art that makes me get up and go for it too,  this is an example of that. I want to be a part of the creative landscape.  This ! song ! is ! Mighty !   

 Shout out to the homies <3  

 "Tracing thin threads through stems, 

 the botanist affixes fine stipules."   

 "One side forever wilted. The other never dead  

Ambrosial elements caged in forceful arrogance, 

 ignorant wisteria the lesser of two."  

  "To bruise the petals and see a dream where all the colours fade into me, you must find for yourself what this all represents before it's life swiftly withers." 

'I Don't Know You' by The Marías.    

I had just gone through a breakup with my first 'proper' boyfriend at the time when I began painting this piece. There is nothing quite like a first heartbreak! It was certainly emotionally driven, and that emotional pain is most definitely an undercurrent for this piece.  I love The Marías' soft sensitive music. I'd really like to curl up inside the timbre of their music and daydream for a while. In terms of album art and aesthetic of the band too, they are distinctly my taste. Superb.  

'Possibly Maybe' by Björk.     

'Possibly Maybe' is one of my most favourite songs of all time. Even recently in a 'ice breaker-get to know you' type activity for uni, I claimed that it was my favourite song. Now, thats commitment. This song will accompany me through many painting sessions to come. It also happens to be a song featuring some thematic emotional pain. Is there a recurring theme here? Possibly maybe. 

"Mon petit vulcan 

You're eruptions and disastersI keep calm admiring your lava"   

'Simmer' by Hayley Williams.    

Unfortunately, this song came out after I finished painting 'Miscreation.' Ms. Williams came through in 2021 with a cutting, mighty and very necessary, (what I feel to be a breakup album) 'Petals for Armor'. I needed this song in 2020, and I will need forever. Again, the emotional undercurrent!! Ooooft. 

"Rage is a quiet thing 

You think that you've tamed it 

But it's just lying in wait"  

 "If I had seen my reflection  

As something more precious  

He would've never Mmm,  

and if my child needed protection 

 From a fucker like that man 

I'd sooner gut him 

 'Cause nothing cuts like a mother" 

'Demolition Lovers' by My Chemical Romance.     

   My Chemical Romance were my first love. This song is able to conjure up some teenage sorrows, and it is sonically quite volatile. Heartbreak + musings of the past + volatility = vital ingredients for creative work.  

'Pain' by Boy Harsher.   

In my brain, or as per my chromesthesia, ("sound-to-color synesthesia, in which sound involuntarily evokes an experience of colour" (Cytowic, 2018), this song is most definitely magenta.  Red and purple and therefore, magenta, is the punctuation for the emotional sensibility of this piece. 

'Hot Faced' by Margaux.     

Finally, 'Hot Faced.' To me, this song sounds like a pivot in thinking. A moment where you say to yourself, "I can make something interesting from my sadness." This song also sounds, to me, slightly  bitter-sweet romantic, but rather than romancing others, I thought it might be time to romantize my self and my art.  It's an acknowledgment of intense emotions, but also doing something better with it, if you can conjure it within yourself. A contemplation of all that you are, and all that you could be.   

"Hot faced, lamb woman 

Too quiet to be noticed 

Insane, what they all say 

Cry hard, you're not that serious"  

 "Please and thank you,  

come right in 

Now the king will see you 

Let your guard down 

Slowly, softly, sweetly, slowly" 

‘Swollen into Shape’, series of 2, Ruby Udys, 2021, 30.3 x 30.3 x 1.6cm & 20.3 x 20.3 x 1.6cm, oil paint on heart-shaped canvas (SOLD). 

    Ancient Greek philosopher Plato, was one of the first to suggest that the brain was a source of logic, while passion derived from the heart. A team of academics conducted a study for the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, investigating these widely consequential body metaphors, wherein, they asked people to “locate the self in the head or the heart. Irrespective of sex differences, head-locators characterized themselves as rational, logical, and interpersonally cold, whereas heart-locators characterized themselves as emotional, ‘feminine’, and interpersonally warm” (Fetterman and Robinson, 2013).

By the above definition I have typically been a ‘heart person’, with my heart being the sole decision maker, high above my brain. ‘Swollen into Shape’ is a depiction of an emotional response in which the brain assimilates into a placeholder of the heart, swelling, bruising and sentimentally conforming into the structure of a heart. While the heart is full, it too, reaches capacity in its commercial and romanisiced love-heart shape.  

“You can't reason with your heart; it has its own laws, and thumps about things which the intellect scorns” – Mark Twain.

‘Inside the Red Queens Palace at Night’, series of three, 2021, 30 x 40 cm, oil on canvas.   

     “When the day becomes the night and the sky becomes the sea, when the clock strikes heavy and there’s no time for tea; and in our darkest hour, before my final rhyme, she will come back home to Wonderland and turn back the hands of time.” – Cheshire cat. 

 The character of the Red Queen in Lewis Carroll’s ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’ possesses a power that is shaped by her demeaner as an overbearing, malicious, demanding, and self-righteous, monarch who is pedantic about manners.   

Inside the Red Queens palace at night, Amongst the inanimate loneliness, there is a stillness you would not dare disturb, but you can’t help but let yourself in, through the archway. The lightening is dim, and you can only just make out the shapes of the extravagance. A rose out of place or even of the wrong hue, a creak in the floorboards, a step out of place. A sigh in a liminal space. You arrive at the staircase; do you continue wading through the darkness, winding up the stairwell? What might you find?  

It wouldn’t take much to disturb the stillness, the vanitas (middle canvas), meaning, “art showing the transience of life, the futility of pleasure, and the certainty of death, often contrasting symbols of wealth and symbols of ephemerality and death” (Harvard Art Museums), evokes the transitional space between ‘having control’ and then inevitably succumbing to loneliness. 

‘On the Plumage of Birds’, Ruby Udys, 2021,18cm x 12.5cm, digital illustration printed on poster paper. (Limited prints available at: https://www.rubyudys.com/product-page/on-the-plumage-of-birds ).   

Dream Scented Rushes was the third exhibition I have contributed my artwork to as well as my third effort as assistant curator in collaboration with curator and artist, Azzurro.    I am so thankful for the experience and for having Azzurro trust me in the curation process, its an art in itself!  I'd like to share my artist statements, along with the artworks I contributed to this group show: 

“Before the discovery of Australia, people in the Old World were convinced that all swans were white, an unassailable belief as it seemed completely confirmed by empirical evidence. The sighting of the first black swan might have been an interesting surprise for a few ornithologists (and others extremely concerned with the coloring of birds), but that is not where the significance of the story lies. It illustrates a severe limitation to our learning from observations or experience and the fragility of our knowledge. One single observation can invalidate a general statement derived from millennia of confirmatory sightings of millions of white swans” (Taleb, 2007), all it took was one black swan! 

Nassim Nicholas Taleb, a professor of sciences, has devoted time to the consideration and labelling of life’s most improbable events. Events that lie outside the realm of regular expectations, as it where when the white settlers discovered black swans on Indigenous land. He uses this example of the white settlers discovering something that once seemed ‘improbable’ as a ‘Black Swan event’. Examples of Black Swan events include World War one, the dissolution of the Soviet Union, the September 11 attacks, the 2008 financial crisis, the rise of the internet and personal computers, etc.  (Taleb, 2007). 

Without the hindsight we have now, the consideration of these aforementioned events in their worldview-altering ways, are absurd. A black swan event takes us from “How could two planes fly into the twin towers?” to “How couldn’t two planes fly into the twin towers? 

Our experiences of reality are shaped by our expectations of reality. We are amongst surrealism, absurdity, and possibility, each and every day. Surely that qualifies our living experience akin to Wonderland? If there is possibility for terror, there is possibility for enchantment. There is inherent magic in the native wildlife naturally found in Australia. We are amongst creatures and culture beyond any imagination, or at least to the untrained eye. You won’t believe it until you see it…

‘Sulci Fungi’, Ruby Udys, 2021, 50cm x 70cm, oil on canvas. (Available for sale: https://www.rubyudys.com/product-page/sulci-fungi )    

 Dream Scented Rushes was the third exhibition I have contributed my artwork to as well as my third effort as assistant curator in collaboration with curator and artist, Azzurro.  

I am so thankful for the experience and for having Azzurro trust me in the curation process, its an art in itself!

I'd like to share my artist statements, along with the artworks I contributed to this group show. The artist statement is detailed below.

The indentation lines on a brain are called, ‘sulci’ or ‘sulcus’. The biggest sulci on our brains separates it into two halves. The raised part of the brain is called a ‘gyrus’. To me, while I’m relatively unfamiliar with the terms, sound like components to a sci-fi narrative. The form of our brains with their organically fortuitous sulcus’ are capable of amazing things. Fungus has insighted curious theories, including Terrance Mckenna’s ‘Stoned Ape’ theory. Wherein, “psilocybin mushrooms (magic mushrooms) were the "evolutionary catalyst" from which language, projective imagination, the arts, religion, philosophy, science, and all of human culture sprang” (Appendix II: The Stoned Ape Hypothesis.) 

Radiotrophic fungus was found with the ability to turn radiation in Chernobyl into energy. Mushrooms interact with their environment so cleverly; their diverse form is so intriguing too. Its understandable that fungi or toadstools are so prevalent as imagery in fairy tales etc.   

 ‘Post-Humorous’, Ruby Udys, 2021, oil on canvas, 101.6cm x152.4cm, (SOLD), for the Azzurro curated, Chateau Apollo exhibition, ‘The Illusion of Fame', February the 10th 2021.      

The colloquial phrase “skeleton in the closet” was first written as far back as 1816, “used to describe an undisclosed fact about someone which, if revealed, would damage perceptions of the person; It evokes the idea of someone having had a human corpse concealed in their home for so long that all its flesh had decomposed to the bone.”   

Morbidly, fame is often ‘awarded’ after death, particularly to artists. Value and attraction of artists and their work is applied posthumously, which begs to ask these questions, what is the value of fame while you are alive? And if fame is so sought after, is there a value to death?  

The relativity of a person’s ‘fame’ is so often temporal, people in the public eye will often disappear without a trace, their relevance expires. In the short or long stints in the celebrity sphere, celebrities are pedestalled while also being ridiculed. What keeps the people of the public eye relatable and ‘human’ is so often what is privatised, until that is exposed and the illusion of fame dissolves… 

What is able to dissolve the illusion of fame has range, it could be an unflattering paparazzi photograph (ala, Britney Spears) or more maliciously, the predatory acts of Harvey Weinstein. However vain or exploitive the death of fame is, the skeletons unveiled cast a dark shadow on a life which is so deeply desired by many.