Some things take time. Sometimes actually making the decision might take years; other times, you know what you want but getting there is the longest and most frustrating time lag. Sometimes you might know you are in a race, but not where the finishing line is. Life teaches us the virtue of patience.

Yvonne Kendall has had to learn this lesson. Not everything happens quickly. Seven years ago, love and ambition lead her to another country and she needed to invest much time to adjust to a new way of life and learn the language and culture. Her more recent desire to find a new place to live and work has also required much resilience.

Kendall’s work has always been largely autobiographical and in true fashion, in Tales of Relocation she has produced a body of work that tells a story about moving, not only from one suburb to another, or from Australia to Germany, but some much more personal transitions from wife to mother, outsider to local, renter to homeowner. Art is her remedy for the frustrations of life, the means by which she visualises the solution and makes it so. It is as through the act of making her art, she conjures the cure.

Here is the problem. Yvonne, her artist–husband Henning and son Emil need to move away from their rented apartment and demented landlady. On top of this, their studio is being re-developed. They want a new place big enough for a studio where they can all live and work. But moving house in Germany is not an easy proposition. For a start, people don’t move very often because if you do find anywhere, you have to fork out for your own kitchen, light-fittings and floor coverings. Australians take so much for granted. If finding a place to rent is hard, then finding a place to buy is even more difficult. And then there is the issue of a mortgage deposit. So let’s see how Yvonne has created her voodoo non-alternate reality.

She laid the plans early. Inspired no doubt by her son’s toys, the construction vehicles were made to build her dream home. The idea to find a new house became a resolution in 2006, so the Front-end loader, Steam roller, Cement mixer and Truck metaphorically demolished considerable mental barriers to make way for the concept of home ownership.

But as I have said, some things take time. The turtles came to lend resolve to her efforts. Turtles and tortoises, and yes there is a difference that your friendly local chelonologist will be happy to explain, are curious creatures which folklore has imbued with much symbolism. Ancient animals, they represent strength, stability and endurance. They feature in the creation myths of many cultures in which commonly the world rests upon their backs and they support the heavens. In Chinese mythology the Black Tortoise is one of the four Celestial Animals, ruler of the north and protector of home and family. Putting one near your door is an auspicious Feng Shui move, guaranteeing protection and success and strengthening the good energy of your home. (Why not have two?)

There are tortoises in the park near where Kendall lives. She will often watch them sunning themselves, comically climbing on top of each other in a seemingly futile effort to be closer to the sun. There is comfort in watching a beast so sure and solid and aware of its place in the world that it needs neither to run away nor confront anything. A stack, or more correctly a bale of turtles, is a symbol of strong family. For Yvonne they are obviously a necessary presence in her work.

The land-based tortoise is a slow, ponderous and sedentary animal, but the giant sea turtle often migrates huge distances. They carry their homes quite literally on their backs. This idea of carrying a load is embodied in the turtle, yet ironically there is a certain freedom in being able to take it all with you with such ease. Backpackers, some of whom look a little like giant turtles with enormous ‘Caribee’ carapaces strapped to their bodies lead a nomadic life, free to take on low-paying jobs and live in small, smelly dormitories. But then perhaps freedom is only possible when we know we have somewhere to call home, somewhere to return. If we define home not as a physical place but as a psychological centre of contentment, we can appreciate the importance of finding one, to ensure a certainty of belonging somewhere. And that is much connected with the concept of family.

In Tortoise house 1 and 2, 2007 the shells of the small tortoises are replaced with the pitched roofs of houses. Peering from beneath the eaves, I imagine the creatures bear without resentment the baggage we have left stuffed in the attic that we are not ready to deal with yet. The shell/roof overhead protects us not only from the elements, but also shields us from emotional weather.

The artist has granted Winged turtle, 2007 freedom from the weighty matters of earth. Kendall says that she is surprised that it has taken so long.

“I expected to make sculptures with wings years ago when I worked at the museum with the bird collection and I was preparing to come to Germany. But they never came. As I was working on the...turtle pieces I understood that …(this) one has wings. I was so stupidly happy after I made it.” (correspondence with artist, September 2007)

In Tales of Relocation there is a wonderful confluence of ideas with Kendall’s previous bodies of work. The stringent domesticity of German culture requires that the footpaths are swept and stairs mopped weekly. A sign ‘Kehrwoche’ (Sweeping week) is affixed to your door as a form of passive public shaming to ensure that other residents of the building will know should you shirk your duties with the mop and bucket. To help her through this absurdly regimented system, Kendall created buckets, mops, brooms and other items of domestic idolatry out of crepe paper and wax for Keeping Up Appearances, a collaborative exhibition with her partner, Henning Eichinger, at The Shedhalle Tübingen in September 2007.

Prior to this, while hunting for a new apartment she fashioned whole suburbs from curtain fabric and string and glue for the Home Alchemy exhibitions in Germany and Australia in 2006. The houses are now on the move, aboard the broad backs of the turtles. The turtles themselves look as if they have been thoroughly protected by the fabric and string. Meticulously wrapped ready for transport, but perhaps not quite as Kendall would package the art when she worked as a conservation technician at the National Gallery of Victoria.

Kendall has already visualized a new home for her family. House and garden, 2007 is contained within the picket fence perfection of a wicker tray, neatly presented and ready for easy relocation.

Little tree, 2007 was made to finance the move to a new house in more ways than one. Selling the work will be a boost to finances, but the little tree, from the original German version of the Cinderella fairy tale, is akin to the kindly wish-granting fairy godmother of the better known Disney adaptation. Cinderella, needing a dress to wear to the ball, implores,

“Shiver and quiver my little tree.

Silver and gold throw down on me.”

So Cinderella gets a beautiful ball gown, and we hope that similar luck will manifest for Yvonne, though I don’t know where she intends to wear all that silk and taffeta. Perhaps she will use it to make some new sculptures.

Gina Lee

Associate Director

Niagara Galleries

January 2008


	Virtue and voodoo or Slow and steady wins the race Catalogue essay for Tales of Relocation, Niagara Galleries, Melbourne, 2008 Some things take time. Sometimes actually making the decision might take years; other times, you know what you want but getting there is the longest and most frustrating time lag. Sometimes you might know you are in a race, but not where the finishing line is. Life teaches us the virtue of patience. Yvonne Kendall has had to learn this lesson. Not everything happens quickly. Seven years ago, love and ambition lead her to another country and she needed to invest much time to adjust to a new way of life and learn the language and culture. Her more recent desire to find a new place to live and work has also required much resilience. Kendall’s work has always been largely autobiographical and in true fashion, in Tales of Relocation she has produced a body of work that tells a story about moving, not only from one suburb to another, or from Australia to Germany, but some much more personal transitions from wife to mother, outsider to local, renter to homeowner. Art is her remedy for the frustrations of life, the means by which she visualises the solution and makes it so. It is as through the act of making her art, she conjures the cure. Here is the problem. Yvonne, her artist–husband Henning and son Emil need to move away from their rented apartment and demented landlady. On top of this, their studio is being re-developed. They want a new place big enough for a studio where they can all live and work. But moving house in Germany is not an easy proposition. For a start, people don’t move very often because if you do find anywhere, you have to fork out for your own kitchen, light-fittings and floor coverings. Australians take so much for granted. If finding a place to rent is hard, then finding a place to buy is even more difficult. And then there is the issue of a mortgage deposit. So let’s see how Yvonne has created her voodoo non-alternate reality. She laid the plans early. Inspired no doubt by her son’s toys, the construction vehicles were made to build her dream home. The idea to find a new house became a resolution in 2006, so the Front-end loader, Steam roller, Cement mixer and Truck metaphorically demolished considerable mental barriers to make way for the concept of home ownership. But as I have said, some things take time. The turtles came to lend resolve to her efforts. Turtles and tortoises, and yes there is a difference that your friendly local chelonologist will be happy to explain, are curious creatures which folklore has imbued with much symbolism. Ancient animals, they represent strength, stability and endurance. They feature in the creation myths of many cultures in which commonly the world rests upon their backs and they support the heavens. In Chinese mythology the Black Tortoise is one of the four Celestial Animals, ruler of the north and protector of home and family. Putting one near your door is an auspicious Feng Shui move, guaranteeing protection and success and strengthening the good energy of your home. (Why not have two?) There are tortoises in the park near where Kendall lives. She will often watch them sunning themselves, comically climbing on top of each other in a seemingly futile effort to be closer to the sun. There is comfort in watching a beast so sure and solid and aware of its place in the world that it needs neither to run away nor confront anything. A stack, or more correctly a bale of turtles, is a symbol of strong family. For Yvonne they are obviously a necessary presence in her work. The land-based tortoise is a slow, ponderous and sedentary animal, but the giant sea turtle often migrates huge distances. They carry their homes quite literally on their backs. This idea of carrying a load is embodied in the turtle, yet ironically there is a certain freedom in being able to take it all with you with such ease. Backpackers, some of whom look a little like giant turtles with enormous ‘Caribee’ carapaces strapped to their bodies lead a nomadic life, free to take on low-paying jobs and live in small, smelly dormitories. But then perhaps freedom is only possible when we know we have somewhere to call home, somewhere to return. If we define home not as a physical place but as a psychological centre of contentment, we can appreciate the importance of finding one, to ensure a certainty of belonging somewhere. And that is much connected with the concept of family. In Tortoise house 1 and 2, 2007 the shells of the small tortoises are replaced with the pitched roofs of houses. Peering from beneath the eaves, I imagine the creatures bear without resentment the baggage we have left stuffed in the attic that we are not ready to deal with yet. The shell/roof overhead protects us not only from the elements, but also shields us from emotional weather. The artist has granted Winged turtle, 2007 freedom from the weighty matters of earth. Kendall says that she is surprised that it has taken so long. “I expected to make sculptures with wings years ago when I worked at the museum with the bird collection and I was preparing to come to Germany. But they never came. As I was working on the...turtle pieces I understood that …(this) one has wings. I was so stupidly happy after I made it.” (correspondence with artist, September 2007) In Tales of Relocation there is a wonderful confluence of ideas with Kendall’s previous bodies of work. The stringent domesticity of German culture requires that the footpaths are swept and stairs mopped weekly. A sign ‘Kehrwoche’ (Sweeping week) is affixed to your door as a form of passive public shaming to ensure that other residents of the building will know should you shirk your duties with the mop and bucket. To help her through this absurdly regimented system, Kendall created buckets, mops, brooms and other items of domestic idolatry out of crepe paper and wax for Keeping Up Appearances, a collaborative exhibition with her partner, Henning Eichinger, at The Shedhalle Tübingen in September 2007. Prior to this, while hunting for a new apartment she fashioned whole suburbs from curtain fabric and string and glue for the Home Alchemy exhibitions in Germany and Australia in 2006. The houses are now on the move, aboard the broad backs of the turtles. The turtles themselves look as if they have been thoroughly protected by the fabric and string. Meticulously wrapped ready for transport, but perhaps not quite as Kendall would package the art when she worked as a conservation technician at the National Gallery of Victoria. Kendall has already visualized a new home for her family. House and garden, 2007 is contained within the picket fence perfection of a wicker tray, neatly presented and ready for easy relocation. Little tree, 2007 was made to finance the move to a new house in more ways than one. Selling the work will be a boost to finances, but the little tree, from the original German version of the Cinderella fairy tale, is akin to the kindly wish-granting fairy godmother of the better known Disney adaptation. Cinderella, needing a dress to wear to the ball, implores, “Shiver and quiver my little tree. Silver and gold throw down on me.” So Cinderella gets a beautiful ball gown, and we hope that similar luck will manifest for Yvonne, though I don’t know where she intends to wear all that silk and taffeta. Perhaps she will use it to make some new sculptures. Gina Lee Associate Director Niagara Galleries January 2008