for Rosalie Gascoigne in the NGV
by Phillip Hall
I sit, back against the cantilevered opening that was once my Beer DeLuxe, to consume self indulgence in long black and lemon tart a sorrow diagnosed as separation from God, though a partner’s constancy is the cladded marvel of Fed Square’s sandstone, zinc and glass; a carbon neutral, catered coherence within triangular pinwheel grids: I am outside the NGV’s hermetic seal having outlived professional usefulness, a pensioned pile of retro-reflective discord and half-understood assembled jigsaw precariously propped in the verge: At Rosalie Gascoigne’s Flash Art, I stammer towards entropy and corrugated bitumen blasted bushfire light; a cache of geometric and retro ravaged lines recycled in a beehive’s golden crossword and concrete poem: Later, over more coffee and cake, I shape up to this joy in signage, grand and redundant on a gallery’s walls.
Rosalie Gascoigne has been a passion of mine for a long time so when I met ‘Flash Art’ (1987, tar on reflective synthetic polymer film on wood) in the NGV, the meeting had to become a poem. And Gascoigne’s title is so delightfully resonant with irony.
Rosalie Gascoigne’s ‘Flash Art’ can be viewed at: https://www.ngv.vic.gov.au/explore/collection/work/86750/
Phillip Hall lives in Melbourne, where he is a passionate member of the Western Bulldogs Football Club. His publications include Sweetened in Coals (Ginninderra Press, 2014), Borroloola Class (IPSI, 2018), Fume (UWAP, 2018) and (as editor) Diwurruwurru: Poetry from the Gulf of Carpentaria (Blank Rune Press, 2015). He also publishes the e-journal Burrow: https://oldwaterratpublishing.com & his forthcoming collection is Cactus, to be published by Recent Work Press in September 2021.