[Audio Interview] Karen Green Artist (Canberra) talks about art, social justice, and Grey Woman Matters

grey-woman-matters-2014-exhibition
Grey Woman Matters exhibition, 2014. Image reprinted by kind permission of Karen Green

Audio of interview with Karen Green Artist also of Grey Matters Woman (Facebook).

Karen Green talks with Bill Quinn of Overheard Productions about art, entering the Archibald Prize 2016, and expressing her passion for social justice through art and Twitter.

Karen Green first came to the attention of Bill Quinn of Overheard Productions while he was presenting various programs on Artsound FM in Canberra from 2008 to 2012.

Karen came into the studio with fellow artist Gosia Orzechowska one morning for a chat, and Overheard Productions has been interested in her works ever since.

In more recent times, Karen Green has been very active on Twitter, sharing thoughts, links and events about social justice. It was this interest that led to a chain of events that saw her enter a portrait of Kon Karapanagiotidis of the Melbourne-based Asylum Seekers Resource Centre in the 2016 Archibald Prize.

kon

Kon Karapanagiotidis by Karen Green.
Entry in 2016 Archibald Prize. Reprinted with kind permission of Karen Green. Continue reading

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#SydneySiege Trolls And Racists Abound – A Personal Response By Bill Quinn, Overheard Productions

Bill Quinn of Overheard Productions, near Liverpool New South Wales, Tuesday 16 December 2014, 6:36am
Bill Quinn of Overheard Productions, near Liverpool New South Wales, Tuesday 16 December 2014, 6:36am

♪♪ Oh, it’s true; I find myself avoiding looking in the mirror. ♪♪

It’s a line from a song by Ann Vriend (Canada) that I first heard in 2008 that goes:

“Oh, it’s true, I could be feeling better
And oh, it’s true, I find myself avoiding looking in the mirror
And oh, it’s true, sometimes a sad song comes on the radio
But otherwise, I’m feeling fine.”

From ‘Feelin’ Fine’ off the ‘modes of transport‘ CD

Recently I’ve stepped out from behind the radio microphone and have been doing videos, increasingly turning the camera on myself. Not in a selfie, me me me way, but more of a semiotic, body language, non-verbal communication way.

I hate text-based inter-personal communication — ironic for a writer, yes/no? But if you can see the wrinkle of my forehead or the rising of my eyebrows, or my scratching my face (one of my tells that says I should never play tournament poker), then you’ll get a sense of what drives this cultural communicator: communication.

Call me old-fashioned.

Last night, Monday 15 December 2014, after I’d finally found out nine hours after it started, what was transpiring in Martin Place in Sydney, I called a halt to my work day at 14.5….12.5 hours. No, 14.5 hours.

(I could never be in the military. Apart from anything else, I suck at 25….that was an actual typo….I suck at 24 hour clock.)

Bega Valley musician Jay McMahon was despairing with his friends of trolls and racists and xenophobes and such coming out to play in the duration and wake of the siege and eventual death of the lone gunman. I repeat, lone gunman acting alone.

If I shot up a cafe, took hostages and killed two, took myself off the planet in the process, and at one point held up my Arsenal scarf (pictured), would you burn down Ashburton Grove, set fire to the Islington train station? Or go to Arsene Wenger’s home town in France and start spraying footballist slogans over churches and patisseries?

Non.

Son of a bitch. I’d been avoiding this score for two and a half days, hoping to catch it on replay. Damn you, Google and your helpful summaries on search pages!

Arse Arse Arse
Arse Arse Arse

So last night I tried five times to record a coherent response after Jay asked me: What can be done?

After four hours of deep, replenishing, refreshing slumber, this:

Check back here soon for video. Currently loading aaaaaand…. here’s Billy!

Continue reading