Empty Nest Collective
BY GABRIELLE OCCHIPINTI, CELINE UZEL, MADELINE PAVIA, ELOISE WINGRAVE & CHLOE KOKORIS
COLLECTIVE MANIFESTO:
Empty Nests explores the fragile balance of our environment, the disappearance of native birds, and how colonisation continues to shape Country. We draw inspiration from artists who tell stories of land, animals, and memory. The Tjanpi Desert Weavers gather grasses from Country and weave them into animals and birds, which is a practice that keeps culture alive and shows the deep ties between people and land. Our nests share this language of weaving, holding memory and story. Janet Laurence’s works Requiem (2020) and Birdsong (2006/2019) bring forward the silence and absence left by environmental damage. We see the same silence in our empty nests. Concerned Artists Resisting Extinction (CARE) work together to highlight Australia’s biodiversity crisis, showing us how art can also be a protest. These artists inspire us to pay attention and notice what has gone, what can return, and how we might care better for creatures of the sky, land, and waters.
While Australia has upwards of 450 native bird species, due to the introduction of feral species (the majority coming from Europe) such as pigeons, starlings and sparrows and the continued urbanisation of the City of Melbourne, many native birds suffer displacement, leading to significant population decline across the state of Victoria. The Carlton Gardens has been populated with artificial bodies of water and exotic flora and has since become overrun by introduced species. 60 recorded native bird species have been lost from the area as a consequence. Empty Nests’ response to this environmental crisis is installing 60 hand-woven bird nests made from plant material to represent the loss of native species and promote native habitation, creating homes for birds that are unable to compete with the introduced species.
When gathering materials for our nests, we collected leaves, branches, bark, twigs, and grasses from the Fitzroy Gardens as well as from local gardens across Melbourne and the Geelong region. The ephemeral nature of our medium showcases the dwindling ecological balance of the Australian biosphere within a postcolonial context; nests of various levels of ‘aliveness’ symbolise a gradual decline in cultural symbiosis. By using native plants, we aim to reflect the natural habitats in which these birds thrive and to honour the enduring connection of Indigenous cultures, past and present, to the land. Some of the materials we worked with were native to Australia, such as gum leaves (Corymbia maculata) and wattle. However, like birds themselves, we also made use of what was available, incorporating European-introduced species. Twigs, vines, and branches provided a sturdy framework for the nest, while leaves and grasses filled the gaps, creating a welcoming space for birds to rest. This interplay of native and introduced species became a metaphor for a history in which Indigenous peoples have been forced to struggle at the hands of introduced European culture. Unable to rid themselves of it, they must find ways to work in spite of it. At times, unfortunately, having to use what has been introduced in combination to what is native. Thus an allegory to the native bird species, often not having access to fully native plants, they work with what has been introduced for survival. Our intentional application of native plants, thus, is to insert the idea that we are slowly working towards a more Indigenous Australia, in which step-by-step we can make a change.
Much of our technique has been informed by the exploration of basket weaving. However, as we became more confident in our craft, our weaving styles allowed for uninhibited exploration and freedom. Some decided to loop thick twigs around each other and proceeded to weave smaller plants through the circles created. Others used a softer plant material to be braided together, forming the base of the nest, then built upon with thicker materials. The weaving process thus became intuitive, as we began to experience for ourselves the scrounging and unpredictability of what materials could be found to produce our nests like our studied birds.
Empty Nests aims to honour and promote efforts to:
Restore the biodiversity of local native bird species
Acknowledge that the land belongs to the Wurundjeri Woi Wurrung people, the animals and the plants as it once did years ago
Recognise that members of the collective descend from colonial and immigrant lineage, but wish to stand in support of First Nations peoples' rights to land ownership
We do so in hope and pursuit of a solution to the absence of Barrawarn (magpie), Yan-Guk (pronounced as 'Djangkang’, wattle bird), Dhurrorrong (kookaburra), Ngayuk and Yanggai (white and black cockatoo) and many more creatures endemic to the Kulin Nation.
What I found so fascinating about Stevens videos was the way she worked so abstractly and encouraged others to do the same. Before finding Stevens’ channel I had never considered abstract art as a part of my practice because I was too focused on creating representational work (at the time I did not understand the “point” of abstract art). But the more I watched Stevens’ videos the more I learnt about her process, and it was only a matter of time before I started to branch out into the world of abstraction. As my studies in the arts progressed, Stevens held a guiding influence over my practice.
Earlier this year I had the opportunity to interview an arts practitioner as part of my course work. My mind immediately thought of Stevens and, with some encouragement from friends and teachers, I reached out to Stevens through social media. I was not expecting an answer; after all, Stevens lived an ocean away and was probably busy with her career. But after a couple of days, I received an enthusiastic response and had officially landed myself an interview with the artist I had been looking up to for years.
I resonate with Stevens’ art because we are both inspired by nature and use mixed media in our practices. Stevens likes to work with a variety of materials including acrylic inks, ink-tense blocks, gouache, charcoal, and watercolour pencils. Stevens explains that her chosen materials allow her to focus on being a process led artist. The exploration of mixed media allows her to stay inspired and keep creating. Stevens’ interest in capturing landscapes with an expressive quality allows her to capture the feeling of the places she paints. Stevens’ subject matter has also been influenced by her childhood where she learnt to appreciate spending time outdoors. This evolved into Stevens’ subject matter where a lot of her works are created outdoors, responding to her surroundings.
Stevens has taught me that it is so important as an artist to give yourself the time and space to experiment. Stevens gave herself three years out of university to try everything with her creativity! This freedom allowed her to learn what and how she liked to create. Something I find so captivating about Stevens’ work is the intuition and trust that is embedded within her paintings. Her ability to capture a sense of a place and to trust in her developed artistic instincts to communicate that sense is something I wish to master as my own skills develop.
With a career as successful as Stevens, she has had to learn how to nurture her creativity by implementing a work life balance in her schedule. Stevens explains that making time to rest is a big part of the creative cycle and nurturing your imagination comes down to understanding how you work and what you need. Stevens often works the best with a tight deadline, where short bursts of energy can have the most impact. For myself, I have no qualms in spending a full day busy in the studio, but I am also prone to isolating myself when I am wrapped up in my own art. This is why prioritising self-care and flexibility within my routine allows me to explore my other interests and spend time socialising, which also make me a better artist.
Stevens’ lessons in exploring nature through non-representational forms allowed me to loosen up my own art practice which was suffering from rigidity and the pressure to capture everything exactly. The more I learnt from Stevens’ the more I allowed myself to challenge my artistic eye. Stevens has been the beginning of my journey to appreciating artists such as Jackson Pollock and Helen Frankenthaler who are respectable abstract artists of their time.
With these artists influencing my practice, my art has been enhanced with personality and expression. I have found joy in capturing movement and energy through colour and shape by practicing being loose and gestural.
As an artist only just beginning my creative career, I was so grateful to speak to Stevens about her journey to becoming a successful artist. Stevens’ lessons of creativity, curiosity, and play have helped me to develop my own art practice and to build up a rich foundation of knowledge that will help me grow in the future. One piece of advice Stevens gave me is especially important for beginner artists: “find ways for play in your work; the meaning will reveal itself from there.”
