Christ(mass) 2004 Paper sculpture Recycled greeting card papercuts plastic, wood Variable dimensions
Photo: Glenys Hodgeman

In this remarkably cohesive exhibition, Glenys Hodgeman explores the act of gift giving, in all its possible contexts. She sees the gift itself as a social connector—the currency of social interaction and relationship building. Prior involvement with organ donation organisations has coloured the framework within which she has created her imagery, adding another dimension to the layers of human meaning to this work. In addition, the recycled gift wrapping materials used to make the work brings into play notions of environmental concerns. The works themselves operate visually in layers. I found the strongly sculptural elements reading very clearly from a distance, at the same time drawing me closer to examine how the imagery had been formed, only to be confronted, at times, with some quite bald concepts.

The first three works in the series offer a strong beginning to this exhibition. Large, mitred leather frames enclose small images formed by quilled recycled paper. The titles of the works, Its not the gift but the thought that counts, The only true Gift is part of thyself, Never look a Gifthorse in the mouth, are incorporated as leather script around the outer edge of the frames. While on the surface relating directly to the images—a figure, heart and lungs, and a horse—the text also carries a message to look beyond the self in the act of giving and receiving gifts. The inherent dichotomy evident in the composition of these pieces via the enclosure of a tiny image within a large dominant frame supporting text which goes beyond the frame, speaks clearly to the sometimes potentially opposing concepts of altruism and egoism mentioned by Hodgeman in her artist statement. The size of the text far exceeds the component parts of the image—making of the titles something in the nature of a political slogan, rather than the standard cliché of their origin.

Gift of oneself , one of those works which challenges definitions of what constitutes a drawing, is a larger than life depiction of two couples making love. The continuous line is formed from thin, shiny, red ribbon attached directly to the wall. The excess ribbon is pooled on the floor of the gallery in a curling sprawl, linking the two couples, raising the question as to whether they are in fact two separate couples or two images of the one couple. The placement of the couples in the gallery is interesting—one lying at floor level so that they are looked down upon, and the second couple tucked into the corner so that the wall itself becomes part of the composition as support for their standing position. The use of ribbon adds another visual dimension via the shadows thrown by the gallery lighting, creating a strong sense of movement. These elements produce an uncomfortable sense of voyeurism for the viewer. However, the sheer beauty of line in the drawing offsets the blatancy of the subject matter. Clearly, Hodgeman is using the universal idea of the act of sex being the ultimate gift of one person to another. At the same time, as she says in her statement, she sees the ‘the gift … as not merely a solitary act or static entity’. The fugitive nature of the gift of oneself in the sexual act is well understood, and aptly portrayed in this work, in itself of an ephemeral nature by virtue of its very construction.

Hodgeman refers to the hand as the ‘main mediator in the act of gift giving’. This is very simply illustrated in the three works entitled Trust (politics), Surrender and Offering (payback). The only non-handmade items in the exhibitions, the three photographs are displayed via large flat screen television monitors, adding an interesting high-tech element to the collection. The first and third images show a pair of hands tied together with a large pale pink ribbon, the first a side view reaching to the right, the other with the hands reaching toward the viewer. The ironic bracketed component of the titles infers that no gift is simply offered; that there is, instead, a darker side to the act of gift giving. Surrender shows the artist with pink ribbon wrapped and tied around her head, obscuring her eyes. The consummate vulnerability, which dominates these images, is underlined by the artist’s naked body in soft focus in the background of Offering (payback). Hodgeman gives of herself via her work and directly, as the subject, in this potent self-portrait. Underpinning the vulnerability of these images is the idea that there is always risk in giving, that the giver takes a chance when offering a gift and the response to the gift cannot necessarily be calculated in advance.

Gift to a Nation offers a re-invention of Australia’s coat of arms. The traditional elements of the coat of arms are re-worked in recycled, quilled wrapping paper. Visually amusing, it is a humorous piece, which is satisfying at first glance, but then raises thought provoking questions, particularly in the light of the current international political climate. I wonder if some thought of the seemingly easy giving away of much of Australia’s independence as a political force to become what at times appears to be a puppet directed by the whims of American political ends might have been a contributing factor in the conception of this piece—likewise the sale of many of our traditional assets to offshore businesses. The transient nature of the materials used is in direct opposition to the enduring nature of a coat of arms as representative of a nation. Do we, as viewers of this piece, assume that Hodgeman is inferring that the underpinning of Australian society has become something to give away in the hope of currying favour with seemingly superior powers? And to what end?

In a move back to the more personal, Hodgeman uses commercially produced gift boxes in a variety of sizes and colours as supports for a range of simple imagery stitched in ribbon in a large work called For you deserve the best. Mostly utilising figures and body parts, this is a curious conglomeration of shapes and colours. As a whole, the works have considerable visual impact and are pleasing in a primitive sort of way. Up close the success of individual boxes is mixed, some working as pieces in their own right better than others.

The last work in the exhibition is a powerful series of papercuts—itself a contradiction in terms. This delicate technique is given a new loud voice by means of the method of display. Used greeting cards have been used to create images that are mounted on brackets which hold them away from the wall allowing the gallery lighting to throw shadows of each piece onto the wall, doubling, sometimes tripling, the image in a long line. The combinations of image and title are ironic, macabre and sometimes emotionally searing. The image of an angel sitting with arms wrapped around knees—the ultimate image of loneliness—made of a recycled Christmas card and entitled Best wishes is only one of a number of Christmas related images suggest the unmentionable idea that Christmas is not, perhaps, the ultimately joyful occasion societal mores teach it must be. In a disturbing juxtaposition of imagery What lies before you, again on a used Christmas card, shows another angel, this one with hands outstretched, the nails embedded in the palms clearly visible, prefiguring the crucifixion. These and other Christian based imagery point to a clear questioning of traditional Christian teaching and values. Other symbols in the series are sourced from other cultures—good luck elephants from Eastern traditions—and religious sources including pagan symbols from the tarot. This is a striking and powerful work, the small scale of each piece requiring that the viewer be very close so that reading the fragments of remaining text on the cards is inevitable. This adds to the disturbing nature, the violation of the taboo against reading other peoples’ mail impossible to avoid.

Hodgeman has produced a body of work which ultimately leaves the viewer asking more questions than are answered, leaving a strong sense of anticipation for what might come next. Her curriculum vitae, included in the Jam Factory’s catalogue, indicates that the theme of this exhibition is one that has been visited many times in the past, so it seems likely that Hodgeman may return to it again in the future. I look forward to seeing what new lines of thought generate when she next turns to this obviously fertile ground for inspiration.