None of Us Are Free / When One of Us Is Chained
In a recent media release from the office of the Minister for the Arts, Tony Burke (2024) referred to a government arts initiative as an “opportunity to highlight exceptional but lesser-known works within the National Collection and share them with communities for whom they hold special significance.” Imagine: $11.8 million over four years spent on transferring and safeguarding old paintings like The Countrywoman (1946) by Russell Drysdale and The Anteroom (1963) by Charles Blackman. The two old ghosts from the graveyard return to the gentlemen’s estate at Retford Park for the bourgeoisie of Bowral. Are you bored yet? You bloody well should be.
Exclusive to the Magazine
None of Us Are Free / When One of Us Is Chained by Daisy is featured in full in Issue 3 of Memo magazine.
Get your hands on the print edition through our online shop or save up to 20% and get free domestic shipping with a subscription.
Related
Hollywood thinks it’s exposing the art world’s grift, but it’s just another con. From Velvet Buzzsaw to Picasso Baby, cinema keeps repackaging conceptual cringe as critique—while artists play along. If contemporary art is now just another film genre, it’s a bad one.
From Rhode Island School of Design‘s anti-commercial posturing to Gagosian’s prismatic salons, this fictional Anna Weyant chronicle exposes the brutal mechanics of ambition in contemporary art.
In an uneasy dialogue with Smithson’s modernist hubris, artist D Harding repatriates ochre, demanding an invitation to sites that colonial practice insidiously controls.