Overview, Images
Eleanor Newbound, Dreamgirl, 2022. Still, Dual Channel Video, 12:00min.

Hold it up, dig

Lara Chamas, Eleanor Newbound, Sophie Rasic, Camille Thomas, tyrnyr

16 May–31 Jul 2023

Artists Lara Chamas, Eleanor Newbound, Camille Thomas, tyrnyr
Writer Sophie Rasic
Curator Genevieve Piko

The archive of self is ever expanding. Culture, people, time, moments. The desire to understand those fragments is ongoing. It’s not necessarily the answer, it’s the quest, it's the attempt, it's the process of inquiry that is often more revealing.

To understand the self, to connect to others - the artists’ hand moves. The emotional resonance of deconstructing something. Using those pieces to reconstruct. Using those pieces to create something new.


Lara Chamas, “Do you know how hard it is to mash a banana with a plastic fork?”, 2016. Video, 7:57min.


Feral for ephemera

You’re only your parents' collab.
Me by mum X dad
ancestral group project
eldest sibling as canon
organs as ephemera
and I prefer their earlier work.

Cast baby’s hands in clay, that is so you
grabbing time by its ankles to keep ya
like overheating a mall in winter
hedges as land coral
ephemera is oh go awn, just have a little taste of time!

Archive is human stepping in for god
angels as cataloguers
collections eternally transposed by touch and considered authoritative?
I mean, come on … 
So human to think paper preserves an identity
like I don’t even think it could mop one up.

‘Unreliable Narrator’ embroidered in ultra-feminine, clicky clacky cursive
the letters curl and stride, like power-walking in a pencil skirt
as if anyone is damaged enough to not think it a little miracle
when fruit reveals its flesh a different colour.

No questions asked:
everyone in the world is allowed to be cremated except mum and me
I made this rule up for the both of us and she agreed
flowers can be set in resin,
a body in silver in gems.

DOWNLOAD Sophie Rasic. Feral for ephemera


Eleanor Newbound, Dreamgirl, 2022. Dual Channel Video, 12:00min.


Camille Thomas, A Meal for the Slain Trout in the Belly of the Beast, 2020. Graphite on paper, 21 x 14.85cm.

Camille Thomas, A Meal for the Slain Trout in the Belly of the Beast, 2020. Graphite on paper, 21 x 14.85cm. Courtesy the artist.


one two three infinity


If insanity is expecting different results from the same actions
then I've really dropped my bundle
lost my mind and my marbles, jumped the shark, gone off the rails
because I'm still thinking rhyme will solve my troubles

Dysphoria locks up my jaw, slouches in my back and pulls out my hair
physically painful, nauseating, a feeling of being unplugged
Suddenly detached from everything everyone including yourself

Trying very hard to let go to release
Trying to unclench, to relax
in those deepest parts of my body where my psyche dwells like an oyster shell guardian
tensing every muscle, locking every pocket of tendon, cutting off all unnecessary movement
still and protective of its core

Trying to make peace, swimming down, shuttling
Begging whoever happens to be listening for loosening
for relinquishment of this most sacred corner of my sea
So much is kept here
Coral reefs of trauma and toxic memories
I just want to see a little sun, feel a little breeze
feel a little something under my feet that isn't lava and glass

Metaphorically, these monsters buried the question in me
beneath the seed of doubt watered by the tears I held back and did not cry
Would you prefer me - would you like me better in boxes? In spheres? In cages?
I've got a nose to mystify your categorising
Roman or Persian or broken?
Eyes sunk deep in retreat from your accusatory glances
flicking up from my razor hips that swing as though made of honey hardened to beat drums
Legs long and actually strong
for all that they are thin like strings, my arms twigs too
Just a sapling in this life for you to shrug shame like snow onto
I'm not Brazilian or Chilean
I'm more a meridian
I've become acceptable, I'm in vogue
and what a shame-faced fact that is
When all that separates me from starvation, slavery, suppression, prejudice, poverty, prison,
punishment, perjury, death in custody, harassment by police and exclusion from the feast of the
is the invisible impossible precept of pussy-grabbing popularity
It's despicable, truly
But here's how I feel about fitting in
The only dress that requires me to fit in it, is uncomfortable, ugly, and not for me
The best dress fits me, flourishes, phenomenally

My gender is a crossroads with three dead-ends
One ends with peace with my past
The others with language unspoken or naked ignorance
The last to infinite expression
This will take callous
fists beaten on gates
cutting my feet on shale that surrounds the truth

Roads rewind to find you to reinforce or reattempt the lesson

“She” speaks to the core of me but not to my completeness
I’m not seeking a binary experience of life
I have three eyes after all
This alchemy of life tempers more than merely two forces, different directions
Don’t let this nonsense slither into my spirit
aided by people desperate I know they are to see me or feel like allies
They want to feel genderblind
though they fail to realise
I am a complete and continuing being
I am perfect right now

Tyrnyr, 2023.

Online, Exhibition, Mobile

This program takes place on the land of the Wurundjeri people of the Kulin Nation. We recognise that sovereignty was never ceded - this land is stolen land. We pay respects to Wurundjeri Elders, past, present and emerging, to the Elders from other communities and to any other Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islanders who might encounter or participate in the program.

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The Nicholas Building

Room 14, Level 7, 37 Swanston Street

Melbourne, Victoria, 3000

Wednesday – Saturday, 12-6pm
Closed on public holidays
(+61) 3 9650 0093

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Working on unceded sovereign land of the Wurundjeri and Boon Wurrung people of the Kulin Nation, Blindside pays respect to Elders, past, present and emerging.


Working on unceded sovereign land of the Wurundjeri and Boon Wurrung people of the Kulin Nation, Blindside pays respect to Elders, past, present and emerging.