The Unsettling Comfort of Home in the Wild: Monica Rohan's Ethereal Landscapes
There's a peculiar magic that happens when the familiar invades the foreign, isn't there? Personally, I think it speaks to our deep-seated need for anchors, for those tangible symbols of comfort and belonging that can ground us even when we're adrift in the vast unknown. This is precisely the territory Monica Rohan, a Brisbane-based artist, navigates with such captivating brilliance in her oil paintings. She takes everyday domestic objects – think patterned tablecloths and those elegant, slightly precarious bentwood chairs – and plops them down in the most remote, untamed landscapes. What makes this particularly fascinating is how these items, so inherently tied to the idea of 'home,' begin to take on an entirely new, almost haunting, significance when divorced from their usual context.
Where Domesticity Meets the Wilderness
For years, Rohan has been weaving textiles and furniture into her natural scenes. Initially, these elements seemed to cradle or even conceal her figures, suggesting a protective embrace or perhaps a subtle camouflage. But what strikes me as a profound evolution in her recent work is the gradual disappearance of those human forms. The paintings now stand as silent dialogues between the manufactured comfort of home and the raw, indifferent power of nature. The bentwood chairs, in particular, have become stand-ins for people, and I find that incredibly poignant. Rohan herself mentions growing up with these chairs, and their "elegant yet rickety construction" clearly resonates with her, serving as a potent symbol of home. When you see them perched on a cliff edge or nestled precariously on a hillside, it’s not just an artistic choice; it’s an emotional statement about our relationship with the spaces we inhabit and the memories we carry.
A Precarious Balance of Intrusion and Decoration
Her upcoming exhibition, "Invitations," at Sophie Gannon Gallery, promises to showcase this shift even further. Imagine plaid tablecloths and crocheted blankets, not draped over a table, but billowing in the wind against dramatic alpine backdrops or alongside rushing streams. From my perspective, these fabrics are no longer just decorative elements; they become almost characters in themselves, their "exaggerated patterns and strange billowing forms" creating an ambiguity that is both alluring and unsettling. Are they a gentle reminder of warmth and safety, or do they represent an overwhelming, almost smothering, intrusion of the domestic into the wild? Rohan herself notes that these chairs, from their "precarious vantage points," no longer offer rest but "invite the viewer to join their predicament." This is where the real power lies for me – in that invitation to contemplate our own sense of security and belonging when faced with the immensity of the natural world.
The Ghost of Home
What this really suggests is a deeper exploration of how we project our need for comfort and familiarity onto our surroundings, even when those surroundings are entirely alien. The chairs and tablecloths act as ghosts of domesticity, haunting landscapes that have never known a dining room. It’s a brilliant way to explore the psychological impact of place, and how our internal sense of 'home' can be both a refuge and a burden. One thing that immediately stands out is the artist's ability to imbue inanimate objects with such profound emotional weight. It makes you wonder about the narratives these objects carry, and how they can evoke such strong feelings even when the people who used them are absent. It’s a subtle yet powerful commentary on memory, presence, and the enduring human desire for connection, even in isolation. What do you think these objects are trying to tell us about our own need for a place to call home?
