miso for chanel

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Miso : Chanel Commissions :  Flinders Lane Boutique : 2014
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

+

 

Miso & Ghostpatrol : Honey in the Rock : Screenprint

A brand new screen-print, it’s been a really long time coming – we’ve spent way too long looking for the perfect screen-printer to do
every 
ridiculous detail we wanted in there, and it’s finally  h-e-r-e, and just how we wanted it. A year later! But it was worth it. 

Miso & Ghostpatrol : Honey in the Rock 
- White print on 300 gsm black Stonehenge stock
- edition of 70
- signed & numbered
- 52 x 75 cm

!!

> miso.bigcartel.com 

bright night sky : ngv : semi-permanent

MISO : BRIGHT NIGHT SKY
{Walking To All My Friends’ Houses In The World}

Backwoods Gallery : , Melbourne
25 Easey St, Collingwood
Opening Night : Friday 18th October, 6-10 pm
Until the 3rd of November

* For an online catalogue for the exhibition : please send a request reply this e-mail.

We are also so, so proud to announce that two big works from the exhibition have already been sold to the National Gallery of Victoria,
and that the last exhibition acquisitions by the National Gallery of Australia are also about to go on show this month. Drinks are on me ..!

Also ; there is a video made by Backwoods & Louis Mitchell, in the lead up to the exhibition :

 

 

++

MISO : HOME-MADE TATTOOS & POLAROIDS : 2013 : ZINE

For the launch of the exhibition, I have also self-published a zine, of a tattooing side-project I’ve had going on :
A 40 page book, beautifully offset printed & perfect-bound here in Fitzroy.
If you can’t make it to the launch, you can now order here : miso.bigcartel.com

++

SEMI PERMANENT
I am also a little floored {but mainly nervous}, to be a speaker at this year’s Semi-Permanent events in
Melbourne & Brisbane in the coming weeks.
Tickets are still available – & I will also be doing a small installation at Mild Manners in Brisbane for the official after-party! Yikes.

 

– Phew,
Thank you for reading, xxx miso

 

zine : home-made tattoos & polaroids : 2013

It’s here!
A self-published zine, beautifully offset printed & bound right here in Fitzroy, 40 pages – a smaller selection of tattoos from this year.
Hopefully it will become a small annual project, like a little diary. So here’s the very first one…!

You can find it right here : miso.bigcartel.com

 

national gallery of australia – acquisitions & essays

I’m completely overwhelmed & floored to have two more works bought by The National Gallery of Australia from my last solo show in
Sydney. It means the world, the kind of support I’ve never expected. I found out about this when climbing a mountain in Kanagawa
and getting a signal at the top of it. I did the world’s stupidest dance and was very happy that no-one saw it.

As a part of the acquisition – the NGA has asked me to provide some text about the works for their collection, archives & website.
Here are two small essays below ; I think I spent 4 days nervously racking my brains & coming up with about 10 words an hour that I
liked, with David Bowie’s ‘Hunky Dory’ pretty much on repeat. Then I put on another album, bucked it up and just wrote it. Great.

 

L: Moon (Kharkov)

I began making these works after being between cities for years, really transient, without much to show for it. I’m usually on my own and don’t ever
carry more than a tote bag of things with me, even if I’m gone for months. I don’t take many photos and I don’t buy much.
So I finally settled in Melbourne again and decided to make a drawing for every city and every memory for these last few years. Walking streets in
my head, dreaming and mapping – hammering memory clusters as holes into paper, like strands of constellation maps. It was so satisfying being
surrounded by it all in my studio, all these ephemeral things made into something tangible. But then the works are bought, sent to different cities,
to different people – and I have nothing and leave again.

I think the fascination for mapping first came from working as a street artist, travelling and putting work on actual city streets, to thinking more about
the structures of cities, how we weave and navigate them – the tension between geographical distance and memory. This work is pretty much about the
two closest and furthest places I dream about – my home city in the Ukraine, and the moon. They are both just as much close companions as distant
thoughts. When I’m between places, I always know how long I have before moving on by the moon’s cycles – always going to either home eventually,
Melbourne or Kharkov. They are all places in constant dreams – all origins and destinations. I really can’t even begin to tell you how often I dream
about going to the moon. Bright white, full of possibility.

Making these works white seems really natural to me – they are subtle, like impressions of a memory. It’s an act of reduction, hammering and carving
back from a blank white page, taking away rather than adding. It gives me a lot of pleasure to make a drawing with nothingness.
And obviously, the minimalism really suits me as a tote-bag traveller.
But the subtlety is deceptive too. The pin-prick process is a sort of endurance act – hammering into paper is really physically demanding, and often
too difficult to do for a long stretch of time. To me, it ties a lot to the tension of what’s historically considered “womens’ work” – crafts like embroidery
or lace-making, which are deceptively difficult to make and endure for their beauty. The hammering process also references tattooing techniques, which
is increasingly becoming a big part of my own practice and is also seen as a ‘feminine’ craft by many of the cultures that ritually practice it, and strongly
ties to tensions between ephemerality, beauty, embodiment of mapping and physical pain.

* * * *

R : I Looked To The Devil, I Looked Up At the Stars

I don’t believe in the devil, but I really like him as an idea. It’s just about putting really complex ideas into a story, or a song, or a map to understand
it better. It’s also not that different to the way people used to traverse huge distances by stars, or see drawings and omens in them. Big ideas into
simpler tokens. I’m exactly the kind of person that buys into that grand romance – I’m never in one place too long and pretty much always travel
on my own. And I really like a good story, even if I know it’s a myth.

The words actually come from a line in a song recorded by Geeshie Wiley in 1930, ‘Last Kind Words Blues‘. I listened to this song on repeat for
I-don’t-know-how-long, wherever I travelled. It’s one of the few recordings she ever made and it sounds like a ghost, really crackled and minimal. It’s so
distorted that I’m not even sure that I hear the lyric right, but the phrase sticks with me when travelling alone and feeling the distance. It’s about solace
in turning to a big expanse, amongst being overwhelmed in your own imagination, for better or worse. Turning the black expanse into bright whiteness.
And the way blues music sublimates tragedy into something beautiful is a really good example of that.

Making these works white seems really natural to me – they are subtle, like impressions of a memory. It’s an act of reduction, hammering and carving
back from a blank white page, taking away rather than adding. Pretty much just like sifting through the experiences we to turn into memories.
It gives me a lot of pleasure to make a drawing with nothingness.
But the subtlety of the pin-prick work is deceptive too. The process is a sort of endurance act – hammering into paper is really physically demanding,
and often too difficult to do for a long stretch of time. To me, it ties a lot to the tension of what’s historically considered “women’s work” – crafts like
embroidery or lace-making, which are deceptively difficult to make and endure for their beauty. The hammering process also references traditional
tattooing techniques, which is increasingly a big part of my own practice and is considered as a ‘feminine’ craft by many cultures that ritually practice
it, and also strongly ties to tensions between ephemerality, beauty, embodiment of mapping and physical pain.