Interview: Mel Macklin

Mel Macklin inhabits a magical world.

Tucked away in a studio in Montmorency, this graduate of the visual arts creates a style of dreamy illustrations that wouldn’t look out of place inside the pages of a children’s book – It’s a land full of pastel-hued girls with big hair and even bigger eyes.

Mel Macklin Photograhed by David Heath

The talented artist has been creative since she was a small child and credits her family with encouraging and discovering her talent. “I was very fortunate to know that I was always going to be an artist and no one ever said that I couldn’t, or that I shouldn’t.”
But it was only while she was attending art school that she discovered the work of Mark Ryden and a signature style blossomed.

 Macklin:  “You grow up thinking that you can’t play with dolls forever or that you can’t have your head buried in a book of myths forever, but it was almost like, ‘well this guy is’. He made the impossible seem possible.”

There’s an effervescence to Macklin’s tone that sits perfectly alongside her 'Blyth'-esque illustrations. When she confides that she’s not long since finished tidying her studio, her uplifting lilt is enough to inspire Makers to wish that we could have mucked in and helped clean the workspace, certain that we would only stumble upon hidden treasures, like a grown up Easter egg hunt.

After a childhood spent in Gipsland and teenage years whiled away in the Northern Territory (where the self proclaimed ‘petulant brat’ attended art school), Macklin moved to the U.K and began work as an arts and humanities teacher at an all girl’s school in London. While she may have only recently resettled back into the outskirts of Melbourne, it’s immediately evident that Britain still holds a special place in her heart, “I miss it everyday,” she confides, “I feel like when I left, I left a little part of me behind.” Beatrix Potter country has left its indelible mark on her work.

Salty Tears and Shipwrecks by Mel Macklin

Macklin: “When you grow up reading fairytales full of pine forests, it [Europe] feels like all of your favourite stories are stepping off the page; it was quite magical to me. I feel like it’s not necessarily the country that you’re born in is the one that you have a natural kin-ship with. And I think it can be quite difficult when you have experienced other places, not to feel like Voldemort and his Horcruxes, (laughs) to give you a really bad analogy.”

Macklin speaks in sweeping illustrative terms. Her time abroad is liked to visiting Narnia, her itinerant lifestyle is that of a snail - “I felt like I was carrying around all my worldly possessions on my back, but as long as I had my paints and my pencils I’d be ok.” And when it slips that this creative once toyed with the idea of becoming a children’s book author and illustrator, we’re not left feeling surprised.

After a return to Oz in 2009, Mel and her husband David set up home in the Northern Territory where she began selling her wares at a local market. Although the tightly knit creative community in Darwin warmly welcomed her return, it wasn’t long before the couple decided it was time to set up a more permanent base in Victoria.

Mel has settled easily into Melbourne life and for the moment her days are spent sketching - With work sold in various markets around the city, walking her dogs and building up her Etsy store. There was a recent collaboration with local lipstick brand Shanghai Suzy and many other fantastical endeavors in the pipeline.

 Macklin: “I was 17 when I started art school and had a really set idea of what art should be. It was all a very idealistic way of thinking; I was inspired by the Pre-Raphaelites and all of those very romantic painters and didn’t really pay a whole lot of attention to the practical side of stuff. I wish I did but I was probably quite young and it was hard for me to grasp the idea of, ‘in order to do this you need to grow up and practice the fundamentals of things'."

With her childlike imagination and beautiful illustrations, Makers hopes that Mel Macklin never really “grows up.”

Of Fir Trees and Little Queens by Mel Macklin

Interview: Kate Rohde

If a picture equals one thousand words, then the first photograph that Makers of Melbourne snaps of sculptor Kate Rohde has this piece written. Looking down to admire the resin-stained floor of her Northcote studio, we spy feet encased in clog-like shoes so spattered with the detritus of her creative expression that they camouflage almost completely. It’s as if there is this person that has sprouted out of two seeds planted in the very concrete upon which we stand.

The urge to use this image to create the connection between the artist and her work – fantastical sculptures and vessels made with a psychedelic eye for colour and form – is irresistible, not least because of the obvious reversal: her zoomorphic sculptures balanced upon small paws serving as expression of her fascination with the natural world, while she herself stands upon feet given the appearance of art.

Kate: “I guess I kind of put all my energy in to making the work. It’s pretty consuming, in a way: I get a bit antsy if I don’t get something done, some way, in each day. At the end of the day, if I hadn’t ended up being an artist then I would still make work in some capacity.”

That she ended up an artist at all owes more to serendipity than concentrated intent. Raised in a “very un-arty, tradie family” in the Dandenongs, the young Kate segued a passion for arts and craft projects in to art school.

Kate: “I never had a strong direction. I was always open to opportunity and things that came up. So I just keep going, really: I still sometimes think about getting a real career, something that’s in the drop down menu that’s in the bank. I just imagined art school would be the hold music in my life until I did something else.”

Happily for lovers of her work, that “something else” never materialised. Instead, Kate has spent more than a decade perfecting an approach to expression that first manifested with her intense love for dramatically decorative arts inspired by her passion for Rococo sculpture – an era that still deeply informs her practice.

It has been, she admits, an obsession: that mix of animal imagery, the natural world and an unapologetic flamboyance lighting in her the fire of imagination that has given rise to Kate’s own unique signature.

What is intriguing in all of this is the apparent contradiction present between the basis of Kate’s art work and the element of control (self-expressed) that impacts upon her own nature. On the one hand there is Kate the sculptor daubing her vessels with ad hoc lumps of un-worked clay and dripping resin, on the other is Kate the facilitator expressing concern at the “clutter” of her highly organised studio space.

Not so much a conflict as a paradox, and one of which Kate is very much aware. It serves as the basis for the dramatic push and pull that engenders so much of the artistic tension that draws observers in to her creations.

Kate: “Deep down I always want to be more crazy and more out of control, but deep down there is a part of me that can’t. Stephen Bush, locally, is one of my favourite artists and, the way he paints… He lets these areas be completely random and other areas that are controlled and structured and I guess that’s what I do in my work: let some areas go unconscious – dumping clay and not doing too much to it, and then the other areas that you really work it up, getting that really fine detail and finish.”

Her unique approach has garnered plenty of fans, resulting in an inspired exhibition of flora with designer florist, Cecilia Fox, as well as ongoing projects with fashion designer, Alexi Freeman and fashion super duo Luke Sales and Anna Plunkett of Romance Was Born (Kate’s work is currently for view as part of the ‘Express Yourself: Romance Was Born’ exhibition at the NGV).

Along with her ongoing relationships with Pieces of Eight Gallery and Karen Woodbury Gallery, and her three-day-per-week art technician role at a Melbourne private school, these are all relationships that keep Kate's work rate at a constant high hum. It is a productivity she enjoys, though focus is maintained on keeping some free space should an unexpected proposal stoke her creative will.

It’s a well-maintained balance – chaos and structure poised in life as it is in her art. Requiring constant recalibration, Kate nonetheless appears as someone for whom predictability could breed a feeling of malcontent.

Kate: “It’s always a learning process and that’s what keeps me interested – that ongoing acquiring of skills and learning of new processes. Everything I make I want to live with and I would want to have around me, and then it’s a benefit if someone else would like to have that in their lives as well.”

Interview: Lucia Mocnay

photos by: aglaia-b.com

Although it may sound strange, the turn of events that lead artist Lucia Mocnay to create her first piece of anthropomorphic taxidermy wasn’t that unusual.

Having completed her Bachelor of Fine Art at Monash University in 2001, the Slovakian born, Melbourne raised Mocnay began working with mixed media and found objects before taking her first step into this slightly macabre world by collecting and framing insects.

Lucia: “I’d been working with natural objects for ages and one day I found a grasshopper and thought it’d be cool to try and mount it. My uncle had preserved insects all around his house and I figured that I could teach myself how to do it.”

As a child young Lucia would scour the ground looking for interesting rocks and bones, which she would then take home and turn into art. One hobby lead to another and when Lucia’s boyfriend Justin, a trained tattooist, began looking into buying a piece of taxidermy to use as illustrative inspiration she jumped at the opportunity to add a fox to their burgeoning collection of curios. The couple bought a piece that in retrospect she states was badly made and the young creative made the instant decision to teach herself the art of taxidermy.

 Lucia: “I went from not liking the sensation of touching meat to working with the skins of animals. I remember the first time I unveiled a fox skin it was very strange. Once you start thinking about the creative process, and start to imagine the piece that you’re creating, you forget about what’s in your hands.”

With her mind filled with inspiration, Mocnay began to feel the magic of creating
a piece of art from what had once been a living creature. It’s an experience she describes to Makers as being “magical and inspiring” and it seems that for Lucia there’s no turning back. Her current work is based on children’s fairy tales and universal creation myths, historical eras and beloved characters. She creates one off pieces from ethically sourced furs, put together with conscious and curious involvement. 

Lucia: “I don’t want my animals to look like Frankenstein’s monster. I try to keep a healthy respect for the animal and its spirit. My partner, being an illustrator and tattooist had gotten me to dress up over the years and pose for drawings that he then used for sleeves and backdrops. I’d dress up and pretend to be say, a gypsy, zombie or bride so he could take photographs. I ended up with a wardrobe full of costumes and after we bought that original fox I started dressing it up. I had so many ideas for different characters and that was about the same time that I thought I’d teach myself how to taxidermy.”

It’s interesting how all of the elements of Lucia’s life have come together. For the artist it seems the decision was more organic than a conscious choice. Things evolved and she continues to be inspired by both her animals and the art her partner creates.

Over the past few years the popularity of taxidermy has surged in Melbourne. Lucia credits the rise to several factors including the steady increase in the number of consumers wanting to fill their homes with unusual antiques & a newfound appreciation from the general public for old artisan skills. The taboo of working with dead animals is also slowly lifting as artists such as Lucia have made the conscious choice to work with ethically sourced animals.  

Lucia currently works on a commission basis as she explores the option of gallery representation. With her first exhibition in the planning stage, she is keen to “clear her studio” of the pieces she has been working on over the past few years. In the meantime she continues to build up her skill set, working alongside her partner and two children in their home studio.

conjuredcreations.com

Interview: Lily Mae Martin

If a lot can be told about a creative by their studio, artist Lily Mae Martin’s decidedly feminine space speaks volumes.

Located at the back of her property in Preston, the converted garage is a virtual candy land of artistic ephemera; a collection of old box brownie cameras, canvases, reference books and rough sketches sit next to a prized collection of old photographs, carefully collected from flea markets, fetes and fairs across the globe.

“I love old cameras and I love old books,” Martin begins to explain as we take shelter in her workspace, avoiding a sudden downpour outside.

“And I love collecting old photographs. Wherever we travel I go and collect old photographs. Some of those are very fancy ones,” she says as she gestures to the fading pictures she has chosen to fill her space with.

“Though it’s not the fancy ones that I’m drawn to specifically, it’s when you’re in markets and you come across big boxes [of pictures] and it’s someone’s whole life. It makes me feel a bit sad. I’ve got so many photographs of mamas and their little kids, and of nuns. I’m really drawn to nuns.”

It is this dichotomy between traditional feminine roles and the objectification of women in art that has possibly played the greatest influence on Martin’s work to date, a collection of paintings and sketches focussing on the nude female form, with an emphasis on pregnancy and the gestating body.

Working across the fine arts, Lily Mae has been drawing for her entire life, but only began painting while she was in VCE.

Lily Mae: “Female nudes are important to me because, even though most of art is based around women being nude, I feel like it’s still quite devoid of the female experience. That’s what I’m trying to capture, that’s why in recent years drawing and painting women in pregnancy and after has been quite important. And it’s not just the male gaze. Because most of the art that is referenced is by men, women do it too. That’s the way that we’ve grown up to view the female figure, so I really want to capture all the bits and pieces in my work. "

A finalist in the 2014 Benalla Nude Art Prize, Martin admits that it can be hard to avoid objectifying her subjects.

Lily Mae: “People always talk about people in art always being objectified and it has such a negative connotation, but sometimes I see people and all I can think about is painting their cheekbones or drawing their hair.”

But it isn’t just about contributing to the reboot of how society thinks about women in art – plenty of her own experience as a person and as a mother funnels from her paint brush and on to the canvas. With experience and with time, the artist has enjoyed developing the ability to convey hers as a universal portrait representing the ‘other’ as much as it tells the story of her ‘self’.

Lily Mae: “There’s a very therapeutic and cathartic aspect to my work but I think, as I have grown along with my work, I’m able to talk about it and explore…in a broader sense. It’s not such a personal thing anymore.”

Lily Mae Martin is represented by Scott Livesey Galleries

Interview: Jeffrey Phillips

"When it’s not for work, it’s all by hand – all ink and nibs. That’s what made me fall in love with drawing and that’s why I can still do it.”

-       Jeffrey Phillips

It really is incredibly difficult to walk away from an introduction to Jeffrey Phillips. Makers first bumps in to him at the Festival of Steve, note book and fountain pen in hand, hired to work this crowd as a live illustrator – a little side line business the “reformed financial advisor” squeezes in during time not spent working on his commercial illustration jobs.

He’s a great guy with whom to strike up a conversation. Jeffrey is open, gently humorous and inquisitive. Much like the drawings that, on this particular Saturday evening, fill his notebook: caricature-style portraits in black ink that capture completely aesthetics and character. The drape of a young designer’s scarf and its wearer’s serious intent; the poker-faced trio at a green felt card table; the bearded suave ‘tude of a couple of the Oscar Hunt boys dressed to impress.

Jeffrey: “I’ve always been a doodler. I would spend my evenings drawing and learning how to use different pens and fill up sketchbooks with, in hindsight, just horrible, horrible stuff. People would say, ‘Man, it’s too late to do something different now, isn’t it, yeah it is’.”

It explains much of the energy surrounding the man that Jeffrey, without fuss or fanfare, went ahead and did it anyway.

Jeffrey: “Someone said, ‘I’ve got someone who’s doing a short film and needs some story boards’, and I said, ‘What are story boards?’ and then one thing led to another and work just picked up from there.”

Speaking with the artist is a lot like this. Nothing harried. No stress. He’s intelligent but not pretentious, observant though not judgemental. Rare qualities. It's as if he’s somehow identified the portal to his own slipstream and just stepped right in.

Perhaps it’s being so in tune with his own creativity that enables Jeffrey to garner such insights in to his studies. He is quick, challenging himself to spend no more than a glance before sketching from memory with his beloved fountain pens – an ease of use he found growing up as a boy in Mumbai where this instrument was standard issue in the schools he attended until moving to Perth, age 14.

And while his insights are acute, his gaze is forgiving.

Jeffrey: “You can get quite a lot of personality from drawing, unlike a photograph which just depicts that still scene. If someone is really loud and flamboyant, you can express that a lot better, exaggerating an action or a piece of clothing. If they have a big nose you can make them have a really big nose. If they are tall, you can make them loom over. It is opportunity to embellish and bring out aspects of character in a scene."

Analysis aside, his live illustrations are, Jeffrey explains, an opportunity to continue bettering his craft. The digital focus of most all commercial illustration means these forays with pen and ink serve as a constant series of mini tutorials.

Jeffrey: “I’ve always done it as a way of practicing my skills, trying to get better at getting as much information in a snapshot and then just being able to draw without too much thought or planning. I can draw you even if you’ve wondered off.”

The morning marches on and his shared warehouse studio space begins to buzz with the arrival of fellow artists and creatives – these people with whom he has come to share a space.

It’s an enviable scene: light-filled, the room’s interior pulled together by someone with an eye for warmth and character, from the copper wire fairy lights to the arresting over-sized bird sculpture. Someone paints in the corner while a writer sits down in a corner to peck at her keyboard.

Jeffrey sees Makers of Melbourne to the door and the joy and pleasure of his company follows, even as his last words fall out in to the light of day.

Jeffrey: “It’s a very interesting dynamic to get paid for something you would do anyway.”

Interview: Jason Galea

Saskwatch, The Murlocs, Frowning Clouds and King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard. What do these Australian bands all have in common? If you’ve had your hands on any of the recent releases by these musicians, you will have seen the work of local mixed media artist Jason Galea.

Jason’s artwork first came to our attention when we interviewed Zak Olsen from the Frowning Clouds a couple of months ago. We were blown away by the band’s recent set of tour posters – the collaged images were a perfect fit for the Frowning Clouds’ aesthetic. After some coaxing, we managed to track down the Kensington-based artist, who took some time out of a very busy schedule to answer our questions.

Jason Galea portrait by Kristian Wild

Hi Jason, first of all thanks for the chat with Makers of Melbourne. Your work first came to our attention on several recent album covers and tour posters, but when did you start working with the Melbourne music industry and was there a “big break” involved?

I hadn’t done anything in the music industry until The Murlocs EP, early 2012. King Gizzard’s 12 Bar Bruise album and a couple of videos followed. Not long after that, Warner Music asked me to do the two Nuggets’ releases and I’ve been busy ever since.

When designing for other people or major companies is there a sense of artistic compromise, or do you have ways to separate the work that you want to create from the work that the artist or corporation wants?

 There’s occasional compromise but I usually have a lot of creative freedom doing what I do. With that comes the task of creating something that works for the sensibility of the client. At the end of the day, it’s their visual identity I’m playing with so I have to keep everybody happy, not just myself. 

King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - "Oddments" Triple Gatefold Album cover

When we spoke to Zak from the Frowning Clouds, he told us that you listened to their album to get inspiration for the cover art. Is this typical of the way you work and does music influence all of your creations?

I always try to start with ideas that are a reaction to what I’m hearing. Listening and discovering music has a big influence on my output, but the artwork and packaging for the music is just as – or sometimes more – influential to me.

When and how did you start creating art? Were you artistic from childhood? 

 Creating art has always been a big part of my life; I was the kid in class that could draw. Dinosaurs, Batman or whatever cartoons were on TV at the time formed my childhood art repertoire. In my teenage years my artistic endeavours revolved around recreating skate logos.

You work in mixed media, from video to collage. When did you start experimenting with different mediums?

 I’ve always found myself looking for new things to get busy with. Filming and editing skate videos opened up a lot of possibilities to me. I studied Multimedia after high school and learnt about designing for the web, 3D animation and everything else digital. Bringing everything together into ‘Zonk Vision’ was when things started to get really fun.

Dorsal Fins - "Gripless 12" Vinyl Artwork

Could you please tell us about ‘Zonk Vision’ and take us through how you got involved?

‘Zonk Vision’ is an AV collective formed in early 2009. At the time it was Danny Wild, Greg Holden and myself experimenting with audio and video together over the summer. We started putting our videos online and eventually put on our first show, then we kept the ball rolling from there. At the moment we are a loose collective of about 10 people. We put on events that blur the borders between live music, film screening and performance around Australia.

Your work has such a distinct feel, regardless of the medium/media used. We really like the way that you use colour and pop cultural references. Aside from music, what would you say are the biggest influences on your work?

The works of Stanley Kubrick, David Lynch, Michel Gondry, Victor Moscoso, Martin Sharp, Tadanori Yokoo and Paper Rad have all helped shape my work. I’m influenced on a day-to-day basis by Danny Wild and Ben Jones from ‘Zonk Vision’. All the artists being published by No-One-Special are very influential to me, too.

Saskwatch  "A Love Divine" single cover. 

Do you ever exhibit your work or do you have any exhibitions planned for the near future?

I’ve been a part of several group exhibitions, screenings, installations and live performances over the last five years. I’m regularly doing live visual projections for bands, too. This September, I’ll be going with ‘Zonk Vision’ to New York where we’ll be doing screenings and as many shows as we can squeeze into the three weeks that we are there.

Is art your full-time job or do you have a ‘nine-to-five’ as well? If so, how do you balance the two?

I was working in the video department of an evil corporation for five years, that helped me pay the bills and gave me time to work out my art, build up enough freelance work and I now never want to work in an office again! My art keeps me busy seven days a week, whether it’s work for bands, ‘Zonk Vision’ or co-running Steady Bumpen skateboards.

Artwork for The Frowning Clouds album "Whereabouts"  - CD, cover & inner artwork

jasongalea.com

Interview: Rone

“I do become conscious of what I paint and what people expect me to paint. It’s good and bad: you become a slave to your style but there is also an ownership of a style that I’m proud of – that idea of sticking to you guns.”

- Rone

Rone in his new Collingwood studio

There is a moment in Rone's new Collingwood studio that catches both the artist himself and Makers a little by surprise. Seated by a window as our photographer takes aim, the scene is interrupted by a voice from the street. “Can I take your photo,” comes the request. Rone nods in good humour and throws up a peace sign. The contented street snapper wanders off, but not before thanking him by name.

“That guy knew my name,” Rone says with a grin, shaking his head a little. “It’s weird when it happens, and it’s happening more and more. It’s especially strange when it happens in other countries: I get recognised in Miami a lot, and in London because I’ve been doing a lot of promo for the exhibition.”

London 2013

Perhaps Rone shouldn’t be surprised.

More than 10 years after his beginnings experimenting with graffiti stencil art, the 30-something artist has become a fixture on the international street art scene courtesy of the stunning female faces that have captured the imaginations of all who view them.

Seductive, soft and in stunning contrast to the masculinity of the concrete spaces upon which they are painted, his choice of subject proved eye-catching for its very feminine energy.

Rone: “The idea behind the women was that everything in street art and graffiti was very macho at that time. You’d have a screaming face, or a really sexy girl or an angry looking Frankenstein guy. To have this calming beauty was different to all of that. It’s not shouting and it wasn’t over-awing, but I was painting in this overwhelming size so the piece still had presence. And, being posters, they would fall apart and decay but they still held their beauty. I love that juxtaposition, I loved how they looked on the street.”

Paris 2011

Clearly he wasn’t the only one. In the past few years Rone's success is such that he has been able to give up his graphic design day job and become a full time artist: one who has in the past few months held a solo exhibition at London’s Stolen Space Gallery, as well as painting a multi storey wall (by commission) in Berlin as part of a project with Strychnin Gallery.

Just a few weeks ago he stopped traffic in the CBD, moving in a cherry picker to allow completion on a project for Rue & Co’s newly opened shipping container dining precinct at the Paris end of Collins Street.

It is the kind of success that has allowed him (along with his Everfresh crew of likeminded Melbourne artists) to occupy a bigger and better warehouse studio space off Collingwood’s increasingly gentrified Smith Street.

That is, when he is in town at all: international invitations to various events and festivals call thick and fast. Makers catch him just before he jets off again, this time to Taiwan for Pow Wow.

Rone: “I didn’t see myself here. Go back 10 years and the only successful street art graffiti artist, the biggest thing they were doing, was a tee shirt brand. Just to be purely living off the artwork – it was impossible. I had never intended to do it. I never studied art. I studied graphic art and I was pretty happy making my income there. This was something I always did for fun and now, 10 years later one took over the other…”

Not that Rone sees his success as merely a happy accident. He has immense appreciation for the street art movement, admitting to finding something exciting in seeing people operate outside the “flow of things”, in working out their own way to creative success beyond the traditional routes of art school and under studies.

He also knows well the trials of being seen and heard in what is fast becoming one of the biggest art movements in recent times.

Rone: “With graffiti you can start right now. You don’t need any training. And while that doesn’t mean you’re good, in that sense the numbers of people playing the game means it’s quite hard to get your name out there.”

Perhaps it’s for this reason – his visibility in a field of wannabes – that one finds it impossible not to appreciate his genuine sense of gratitude. There is the grin that stretches ear to ear, of course, but – more than that – this incredible feeling of enthusiasm and glee that he exudes for the place he currently finds himself.

Certainly one gets the strong sense that, somewhere along the way, Rone has fully made the transition to legitimate artist: he is unapologetic about his preference to paint canvas for private commissions and no longer works illegally.

Berlin 2013

There is also the due diligence being given to the evolution of his style, something the painter is conscious of contemplating as he moves in to the next phase of his career. Not to mention his awareness around balancing the offers of international travel against time that must be spent creating in the Melbourne studio.

Rone: “It’s surreal. This month I had to think about whether I was going to go to Taiwan or go to San Miguel, Mexico, because I need time to paint because that’s how I make my money. So these are my problems now – my ridiculously good problems. It’s a life I couldn’t have imagined having five years ago.”

Interview: Stanislava Pinchuk

It’s not an exaggeration to suggest Stanislava Pinchuk is one of those artists who represents Melbourne as we love to imagine the city to be: daring, cultured, intelligent, interesting and wholly unique. The woman who began as a graffiti artist gracing the city with her ethereal, large-scale illustrations pasted to brick walls and doorways has moved on, while retaining (at least in spirit) the tag that informed her earlier work – M-I-S-O.

 Makers of Melbourne catches her on a sunny weekday morning just as news of the worsening crisis in her familial homeland of Ukraine hits the wires. It seems a world away from the quiet green of her plant-filled, seventh-floor studio within the iconic Nicholas building.

 But Stanislava knows the falsity of geographic distance: the world is an increasingly small space and it is artists like her who transcend language and culture through their art that help make us aware of our connectedness.

 She is broad in her reach, travelling frequently, spending months at a time in Tokyo and soon to fly to Paris to work on a book project with likeminded ‘creatives’. At 25 she is an artist on the make, a figure to watch who is breaking ground right in the heart of our city. In the midst of this busy schedule, she took time out to have a brief chat.

Can you talk us through a little bit of your progression as an artist: the development of you from a graffiti artist to the place where you now find yourself?

I'm not sure if it was really like that – I always drew and did a lot of things in between. Graffiti was just one thing I did between many others, so it wasn't such a linear progression. Unfortunately, it was just something that had to drop off after a few really gross legal experiences. One day I'll come back to working in public and, hopefully, illegally – just at the right time and place. 

 You also take a very freehand approach to tattooing, doing it by hand: it seems there is a really strong marriage between this arm of your art and the pin prick works you are increasingly becoming known for.

Yes, absolutely – it's pretty much the same technique, hammering holes in one by one. Both require the same fastidiousness and precision, so both are unforgiving if you make a mistake. It's just a question of wearing one with you wherever you go, as opposed to having it housed in a museum or home. 

To me, both mediums are very much a reference to what is historically understood as 'women's work' – things like embroidery or lacemaking. Like the pinhole works, they are technically difficult and physically demanding mediums that work to produce something quite subtle and beautiful. I think as skills that they are pretty undervalued.

Tattooing to me has always been a really similar idea: in most cultures with ritual tattoo it is most often women tattooing other women within the community. To me, it plays so much with the tension between physical pain, technical demand, and decoration and beauty. 

The Nicholas building is such an iconic space in the city's arts scene - what is it like for you to have a studio in that space as an artist? How does it fuel your inspiration?

I really, really love the Nicholas – it feels like a beehive, and you never know who you will bump into in here. It's a pretty special place, and it's got some really amazing, weird tenants. I'm pretty versatile, and can work anywhere – so I'm not sure if it fuels any inspiration directly – but it's definitely good to bump into the friends I have in this building and visit each others' studios, swap tools and talk shop. 

 Tell us about the relationships you have with some of the past and present artists in the building - you mentioned that your studio once belonged to Vali Myers?

Yes, my studio once belonged to Vali. I never knew her, but I'm a huge, huge fan. It sort of ended up mine by accident. But it's so wonderful and I get the best visitors – Vali's friends coming up and just hanging out and telling me stories. Funny, smart, totally free people: the best company. It's the greatest thing to inherit with a studio. I feel pretty lucky. 

Where do you spend your downtime in Melbourne - which parts of the city do you most relate to?

Fitzroy! To be honest, I barely get any downtime, so when I do it happens in my own neighbourhood. I've lived here for a really long time, and it's hard to imagine ever moving. Usually it's drinks and chess at my friend Andre's studio, or at The Napier pub; it's a real gem, and I hope it never changes.