THE FOOD COURT
Saturday night I went to a dinner at Docklands. Docklands is frightening. It’s such a good place to get rolled. You can just feel it. You know there are people all round you, just no soul. Zilch. We were at a new ARI called the Food Court. The space has been given over to artists for free, because no one went to the Food Court and it closed down. Artists are good at reinvigorating evil dead spaces. They will live and work where other people won’t.
If you tried to design a more dysfunctional space than Docklands, you couldn’t beat what they’ve come up with. It reminded me of Fisherman’s Wharf on the Gold Coast, without the Bacardi Breezers. A Ferris Wheel that doesn’t turn.
Jeff Kennett and his Docklands authority, decided to leave all the design and funding of infrastructure to the developers. Sam Newman is a famous Docklands resident and the Public Art is almost as bad as Canberra’s. My favourite is the bronze Kylie Minogue sculpture with the red shoes that looks nothing like her. I’ll have to make another visit down there, to find the Johnny Farnham bronze. And the Graham Kennedy bronze. And the Nellie Melba bronze and the Dame Edna bronze. I told you! You wouldn’t be able to brainstorm up worse ideas.
The dinner at the Food Court at Docklands was part of the Aphids Precipice series. They’re on the edge of presenting a Parade and/or a Protest. There’s a difference you know.
I meet the Jafflechute guys; their startup shows entrepreneurial genius. It’s cheese and vegemite jaffles made to order. They’re then harnessed into a parachute and dropped down from lofty heights for you to catch. You just stand on the black cross and look skywards. Natalie Thomas