Ilka White, Shell Button Chemise, second hand shell buttons, cotton thread. Image courtesy of Ilka White.

Whitework was exhibited at Craft Victoria during the month of April 2004 as part of the L'Oreal Melbourne Fashion Festival. It showcased an extensive body of work created around the idea of a contemporary glory box, 'throwing open the hope chest and a redefining of the trousseau'. It encompassed a variety of textile production methods including computer-aided jacquard weaving, digital and freehand machine embroidery, permanent pleating and felting, robotic-cut leather appliqué and hand production techniques.

In Whitework , the subtle gradations of white, with which the entire collection was created, speak of both fragile and radical thoughts, and unpredictable outcomes. The eclecticism of Whitework is immediately apparent upon seeing the overwhelming amount of detail and process involved in its production. On the left wall of the gallery, journal material stretches its way along the length of the wall: an artwork of process. Eleven white floor-to-ceiling hangings dominate the centre space and a discrete display of garments are hung on wooden coat hangers to the right. A table positioned near the front of the exhibition presents a woven sash, a ribbon and a bandolier and wreath. In describing the 'parts' we not only get a practical sense of the show and how it sits in space, but discover a conceptual basis underpinning Whitework : the notion of time, how it relates to the creative process, production and our very own existence.

In order to explore this notion further we must understand the historical significance of the trousseau in Whitework and also the use of white employed by the artist. In White's own words:

'White work' is a broad term covering many textile techniques, which have in common the use of white thread on a white ground. This work is traditionally associated with the making of a women's trousseau. White is my family name. In Whitework I am looking at what I have inherited from my mother and grandmother (habits, expectations, sensibilities, gifts) and ask, 'What do I know make with this inheritance?'

Traditionally, the trousseau was a collection of a woman's handicrafts and her personal possessions including napiery and garments. It was a preparation, infused with hope and expectation; a holding together of oneself while waiting for marriage. White's personal symbols turn these ideas upside down. While the pieces themselves reflect an equivalent dedication both in terms of technique and time spent, they challenge and expose the absurdity of the trousseau. She asks the question: ' Who are you living for?' The eleven hangings are an illustration of technical accomplishment, but their imagery is a projection of a life that is in the present, one that has appreciation for the here and now without expectation. They assert the independence of the self. As White comments: 'The hangings illustrate what is important to me: my tools, my experiences, my inherited stories and my symbols of personal importance.'

In the specific details of Whitework, we observe the intimate questions and thoughts posed by the artist, while as a collected body of work it challenges conventional notions of a women's worth and her past and present position in society. In terms of its production, Whitework is a clear example of the artist's proficiency and potential. The wall of sample work reveals the extensive manifestation and process of manufacturing her ideas, culminating in a form of personal language. Paper cut-outs, sewing samples, garlic jackets stuck to paper. Drawings transformed into embroidered images; the miniature expanded; symbolic images that become abstract lines; cuttlefish, buttons and leather all find their way into the pages. Old paper bag patterns; the artist's tools laid out like personal treasures.

She describes a bird in flight:

I was riding down Napier Street, North Fitzroy feeling a little low - then I was swept up by a sense of elevation, of comfort. I felt this presence overhead and I looked up and directly above me was a white-faced heron. Flying at my speed but two metres overhead. It followed me for quite a distance. I felt entirely protected and accompanied. Moments of grace often come to me on my bike. The heron is now like a totem for me.

White asks: 'What sustains you?' The significance of these questions for White and the use of them in Whitework are because they have ' nothing to do with the future - about a partner.' By extension, the sash on the table with the words, love this life, woven into it speak of this radicalism in Whitework .

The sash is designed to be worn, therefore the text is partially obscured. The complete message is not seen by others. It's there as a reminder to you, the wearer. That in itself suggests an independence. It's not on show. It's like a private prayer, like a mantra.

Louise Bourgeois wrote that 'colour is stronger than language. It's a subliminal communication. White means to go back to square one. It's a renewal, the possibility of starting again, completely fresh .' In contemplating Whitework, these words ring true. White [the artist] has been employed white [the colour] to explore not only deeply personal ideas, but also broader notions of the individual in relation to social structures. There is a great openness in the execution of Whitework, but also a delicate intimacy and honesty. There is a curiosity and a conversational element to the work that demands time spent on its appreciation. Whitework, for the artist, is an absolute 'acknowledgement and celebration of process. This work is incomplete and that is OK. It is an acceptance of the present, not waiting for that glorious day, glorious future'. Her work takes on a metaphorical quality, where personal symbols, poetry and music, combined with technique, explore not only highly personal themes, but universal questions of growth, transformation and change.