It’s my PN anniversary, eight years (if I don’t subtract the 4.5 years it took me to find out it was in fact PN)!
Obviously time brings on reflection which in turn invites the ‘melancholies’ (yes, I did just make up a word). But I have significant reason to bury the ‘melancholies’ this year with the celebration of my solo show at Penny Contemporary in Hobart.
During a recent four months on the East Coast of Tasmania, I was able to focus on my fine art and decided to document my ‘self’ during this very reflective time. Theo and I took time out to ask ourselves, ‘What next?’ having lost my battle for part-time compensation and realising that sustaining, even a part time sitting job, is difficult for me. It was a most valuable time for both of us.
I’m going to leave the review for Intermission to two brilliant women; Australian artist Barbie Kjar (who will open my show and who’s words appear on the invitation), and my niece Kat Moritz, who’s words appear below.
Consider this post your invitation. View all the works here. See you in Hobart!
Written by Kat Moritz
Artist Soula Mantalvanos’ most recent exhibition, “Intermission” signals a bold departure from previous works into more mature, more personal and much more intimate territory. Aptly named, the exhibition is a series of self portraits, which – as a whole – stand as a bold exploration on the artist’s behalf, of her identity as an individual during this intermission of life that she has found herself in.
Painted in the solitude and anonymity of Tasmania’s still very much unspoilt east coast, well over 500 kms from the artist’s inner city home of Collingwood, the works represent an equally pared back and exposed Soula. Leaving behind over seven years of chronic pain and the familiarity of city life, Soula’s portraits are as much of an experiment on her behalf as they are very tangible markers of a new direction in her work.
“I wanted to ask [all those hard] questions and answer them without influence – put them on paper and exhibit the experience. Perhaps I’m testing my confidence? Perhaps I’m wanting to prove to myself that I’m an artist once again?”
Soula’s portraits may have been born out of a pause in her life but, paradoxically, as a body of work, they speak of journey; of transformation; of maturation. Soula makes no effort to conceal brushstrokes or to avert the gazes of her Soulas that stand before us. Instead she commands them to look us straight in the eye, sometimes with poise, at other times with hope, however, always with sincerity. There is no hiding in the wings for this artist or these works; they most definitely warrant to be positioned centre stage; humbly; quietly, however, centre stage nonetheless.
MARCH 6 – 25, 2015