Artspace

Alia Hilder (2021) | Recipient of the School's 2021 Visual Arts Prize

In November 2021, at the TCE & IB Art Exhibition, the Visual Arts Prize was awarded to Alia Haider (Year 12 Higher Level IB at the time).

Below is work from Alia's IB Art exhibition at the end of last year. Her entire exhibition was titled, Lost in Translation, and specific pieces from this exhibition, or the exhibition as a whole, are the inspiration/stimulus art work for this year’s Art2Words Writing Prize (one of three of our School’s writing prizes). Alia’s body of work, as part of our community partnership with Forty South Publishing (who judge the writing comp and publish students’ creative work: art and writing), can be viewed in the online magazine Forty South.

#8. Ttooqrein (Debris) 2021. Posca Pens, Spray Paint, Beading and Assorted Photographs on Coke Cans (46.5 x 77 cm).

Pictured above: Two photos of one of Alia's pieces - Found and altered objects (one of the whole of this particular altered object/installation (left) and one of the detail (right).

Artist's statement

Cans are such that their production is extensive, and their use ephemeral. They are bought for cheap, their contents are consumed, and they are simply thrown away. Personally, I believe their function mimicks the nature of colonialism and disposable culture. The coloniser occupies, kills, loots, and leaves – and the immigrant arrives, assimilates and throws away their culture to adopt a new. In both cases, something is lost, something is gained, and someone is irreversibly left hollow. Consequently, these cans are all decorated with pictures and symbols of Pakistan, displayed upon a disposable vessel – a modern twist to the traditional urns and ceramics one would expect.

Work from Write Creatively High School students

Below are some extracts of poems and short stories, from four, Years 9 and 10, Write Creatively students, which were written during Term 1.

Poem by Charlie Melrose (Year 9)

Warm 

Good warm 

Outside. In other places 

There is cold

There is a world of cold in the out

Here. In this place 

There is much warmth

There is a world of clean warmth within

Humans can be warm or cold

Within they are warm

Sometimes they are cold on their outside

Here. they are warm on their outside

Much kindness must radiate

Kindness from the one out to the many 

This much kindness can form a new kind of warm 

Another point of warm within

A borrowed warm. A precious warm

New precious warm

A warm to help the new cold back out

Warm has much good

It holds it

Like our inside holds the warm

And when our inside holds the warm 

it holds much good 

And when the warm radiates from inside souls 

It brings much good for all the outside

The cold will leave. If warm is held

If good is held. The cold will leave

An extract from ‘Cities’ a short story by Isla Younger (Year 9)

…she finds herself walking down the stairs of her building and outside. Outside, where she hasn’t been for so long. The humidity hits Phoebe like an enormous wave, and she grabs at her wrists for something to tie up her long hair with. Nothing. She tosses it over her shoulder.

     Phoebe thinks about the last time she went outside. It would have to be a week ago now. Her eyes drink in the sight of her city, partially blackened and crumbling, partially majestic and tall, just like it used to be.

     Phoebe thinks she can remember stories her grandmother used to tell, about before The Disasters. Years ago, when the ground was green instead of orange and the sun went easy on the land. Phoebe imagines what it used to look like, what it would be to live there, away from the ruined city she calls home.

Metamorphosis of the Shoe by Hazel Jennings (Year 9)

Swollen

Expectations, too high 

Ugliness, the feeling of incompleteness unable to fill the pointed gap 

Feet squeezed and pushed into shoes that are not made for them

Control 

The pointlessness of it all, drowned out by their smiles

Complements, like knives in the skin

Words of approval, as heads nod in agreement.

Stares wobble like jelly

The battle begins

Feet firmly placed to the flaw, heels begging them to slip

Lateness a constant fear, when running is not an option

Their sharp pointed ends jab and poke, as the world becomes blue

Drowning in perfect blue

Red waters come near as anxiety sets in, blue fish jump desperately trying to escape

The body held up by string, the puppet unable to move alone

An understanding, a rule that must be followed

The outcasts watch in disbelief, as blue fish dance

An extract from ‘I Cannot Stay Silent’ a short story by Isabel Adams (Year 9)

I had never stood so close to the edge of the bubble, the only thing that shielded Eden from the rest of the world. I had no idea why my sister’s note had sent me here. Why would she want me to look outside? There was nothing there. Nothing but the endless plains. But when I looked outside, I knew. It wasn’t a hoax at all.

     The land did stretch endlessly, barren and bare. It seemed nothing could ever grow here, no life would ever be able to stand the blistering heat, harsh winds and glaring sun. For a moment, I wondered if anything had ever survived here. But it might have once. Just because it was nothing but a blank canvas in front of me, didn’t mean that it hadn’t once been a gorgeous work of art. 

     But as I looked closely, I could see life filling in the gaps. The world I had seen in the photographs fitted perfectly into this space. I knew it was all real. And now, I knew what I was fighting for.