Chapter 5 (Mallee Parley)

Chapter 5 (Mallee Parley)

By Aaron Bailey

Artist

Chapter 5 (Mallee Parley)is an exploration of the profound interconnectedness between land, self, and humanity, with the Mallee region serving as a space of dialogue and exchange. My work considers how identity is not merely shaped by experience but is deeply rooted in our relationship with place. Through an expanded approach to painting, I investigate the tensions between materiality, memory, and presence—positioning both the human body and landscape as sites of connection and transformation.

At the core of this exhibition is the concept of parley, a conversation that extends beyond words to encompass the silent exchanges between material and form, past and present, self and environment. My practice engages with these interactions, questioning how meaning emerges in the space between human presence and the land we inhabit.

A recurring motif in Mallee Parley is the shroud, a symbol of humanity and faith. It speaks to presence and absence, concealment and revelation, evoking the ways in which belief—spiritual, personal, or collective—is both perceived and gifted. Rather than sacred artefacts, my personal view on relics is that they are fragments of memory, material, and land. These remnants become testaments to the enduring bond between humans and their environment, reinforcing the idea that Place is not passive, but an active participant in shaping identity.

Guided by Robert Rauschenberg’s statement, “Painting relates to both art and life. Neither can be made (I try to act in the gap between the two),” my practice embraces an expanded notion of painting—one that resists categorisation and unfolds through abstraction, assemblage, and material transformation. Here, painting is not a fixed object but an evolving process, existing in the fluid space between representation and experience.

Ultimately, Mallee Parley positions painting as an act of negotiation—a dialogue between the visible and the invisible, and the known and the unknown. It invites viewers to reflect on their own connections to Place and the ways in which memory, faith, and identity are interwoven with the landscapes we inhabit.

Spiritual Reflection

By John Rhynehart

Director of Faith & Mission

Throughout human history, at the core of our very being has been a yearning to express ourselves. Our earliest ancestors did it through language, music, dance and, most meaningfully, art. In and around the caves, the camp fire, the walls of the caves and out into the realms of a more conscious world, we have discerned a more sophisticated way of being. And that’s what it was – our being expressed in and through these forms.

The expression of our being, our human existence, is the essence of our spirituality. For some this spirituality is intuition, for others the living out of our values and for others still, it is a sense of knowing one’s identity in the dichotomy and paradoxical form of not-knowing yet knowing! Centrally, spirituality was expressed and understood in our human relationships. It gives an unspoken language to our purpose and connection within the human family and something considered far greater than ourselves. In essence, whether understood religiously or in a more worldly sense, it provides aspects of being that provide meaning to our life and the world in which we live. Additionally, spirituality will influence our personal health, moral acts and our search for deeper meaning as we parley through this world.

As our human story continued this dichotomy and paradox took on an even deeper understanding through the faith, hope and love elements of Religious Spirituality. Like many of the worlds religions, love is the key to understanding and expressing one’s spirituality. 

Love, in and of itself, is relational whether that relationship is with another, the environment or a higher being. St Thomas Aquinas reminds us in his Summa Theologica that “the things that we love tell us what we are.” Of course, for humans who are innately relational and who generally yearn for authentic relationships, the avenue through which we speak of and express our love is primarily dialogue, discussion, conversation, parley.

Conversations in Cloth and Stone: The Mallee Parley

By Rohan Morris

Curator

How does the interplay between personal memory and the physicality of materials—like a blanket, limestone, or copper—invite us to reflect on our own connections to place, loss, and shared human experiences?

Aaron Bailey: Chapter 5 (Mallee Parley)

Losing a parent is one of life’s most profound and disorienting experiences. It creates a void, but it also invites a reckoning—a reshaping of how we see the world and ourselves. As Emily Dickinson wrote, “Hold dear to your parents, for it is a scary and confusing world without them.” For Aaron Bailey, the passing of his father became both the catalyst and the core of a remarkable artistic journey. Spanning six years and evolving across installations and gallery works, Chapter 5 (Mallee Parley) is the latest iteration of this ongoing dialogue between memory, grief, and place.

As the curator, I have had the privilege of witnessing not only the evolution of this body of work but also the profound personal transformation it represents. These chapters are more than artistic explorations—they are deeply human, vulnerable, and courageous acts of processing loss. Watching Bailey’s art and spirit evolve side by side has been as moving as the works themselves.

The Origins of a Dialogue

The series began in 2020 with Chapter 1, a site-specific installation on half an acre of gum trees and native vegetation in Mildura, Victoria. This land was not chosen by chance—it holds layers of meaning. Bailey and his father planted the trees together when he was a child, and over the years, they grew into a living reminder of their bond.

On the first anniversary of his father’s passing, Bailey transformed this space into an installation: twelve white linen flags suspended between the trees with blue nylon string, accompanied by a sheet of copper. The flags moved with the wind, absorbing the environment over the course of a year. They frayed, faded, and evolved—just as Bailey himself was evolving.

When I first saw this work, I was struck by its honesty. It wasn’t just an installation—it was a space where grief could live and breathe. The flags became a conversation, their movements echoing the silent dialogue between Bailey and his father.

A Journey Through the Chapters

Each chapter of Bailey’s series marks a shift—not only in the work but in Bailey himself. From the original installation to the cyanotypes and domestic objects of Chapter 4, these works stand as a testament to how grief and memory can transform and be transformed through the creative process.

Copper, with its warm, metallic sheen, reappears throughout Bailey’s work as both a material and a metaphor. It symbolises transformation, resilience, and the passage of time—qualities that mirror Bailey’s personal journey through grief. Copper also carries an alchemical significance; as a conductor, it facilitates the movement of energy and transformation, much like the emotions and memories that flow through Bailey's work. Encapsulating objects, copper binds shared experiences while creating a visual thread that links each chapter to the next.

Salt also plays a recurring role, its dual nature as both a preservative and an erosive force mirroring the impermanence of memory and life. In Bailey’s installations, salt preserves fragments of meaning while simultaneously eroding them over time, evoking the transience of grief and the way memories endure yet fade, much like the land and the people it shapes.

Now, on the sixth anniversary of his father's passing, Chapter 5 (Mallee Parley)builds upon this evolution. It invites us to explore the deeply tactile and evocative connections that link us to one another and to the land.

The Blanket as a Vessel

One of the most poignant elements of Chapter 5 is the inclusion of the blanket—a seemingly simple object, yet one that carries layers of meaning. The Australian wool blanket (often referred to as ‘the itchy blanket’) becomes both material and metaphor, provoking a visceral sense of memory, comfort, and shared humanity.

These are not just any blankets—they are the kind many of us have owned. Their texture, their weight, and even their scent evokes memories of home, family, and warmth. The familiarity of the blanket invites a kind of intimacy, drawing the viewer into Bailey’s personal story while reflecting their own.

In Chapter 5, the blankets are layered with vegetation from the Mallee, creating a direct link between the domestic and the natural, the personal and the universal. In this way, they become vessels—not just of memory but of place. They ground us while inviting us to explore the depths of our emotions.

Grounding in Limestone

While the blankets connect us through memory, the limestone featured in Chapter 5 serves as an anchor, rooting us in the physicality of the land. Limestone, formed over millennia from marine sediment, is a reminder of deep time, history, and permanence. It ties us back to the Mallee and its unique landscape, preventing the work from drifting too deeply into introspection.

For Bailey, the use of limestone ensures the work remains connected to the land that has shaped him and his practice. As a viewer, I found this grounding presence essential reminding us that grief and memory are not just internal processes but deeply tied to place and community.

Materiality, Assemblage, and Influence

Bailey’s exploration of materiality and memory echoes the influence of artists like John Nixon, whose use of non-objective assemblage prioritises material relationships over traditional narrative. Similarly, Bailey’s arrangements—whether through linen, limestone, or other materials—invite the viewer to engage directly with textures and forms, creating a layered conversation about memory and loss.

His work also resonates with Robert Rauschenberg’s approach to “painting with materials rather than paint.” Like Rauschenberg’s “Combines,” Bailey’s works transcend the canvas, encouraging tactile engagement with materials themselves.

Furthermore, Bailey’s practice recalls the monumental land art of Robert Smithson, particularly Spiral Jetty (1970), which used the land itself to tell a story of time, place, and human intervention. Just as Smithson revisited themes of entropy and transformation, Bailey’s series unfolds as an ongoing exploration of memory, grief, and place. His iterative process allows time and natural forces to shape his works, creating layers of meaning that mirror his personal transformation.

An Invitation to Reflect

Through the interplay of blankets, copper, and limestone, Chapter 5 becomes a dialogue between the deeply personal and the universal. It reminds us that while grief can be isolating, it also connects us—through shared objects, spaces, and experiences.

As a curator, I’ve been profoundly affected by this work. The blanket Bailey uses feels like a bridge between the artwork and the audience. It’s not just an artistic material—it’s a reminder of the humanity we all share. It connects us to our own memories, while the limestone gently grounds us, reminding us of our place within the broader landscape.

Bailey’s ability to balance these elements—memory and land, grief and connection—is what makes his work so moving. It doesn’t shy away from the complexities of loss but instead offers a way through it, a way to reflect and find meaning.

The Power of Art

What strikes me most about Chapter 5 is how it holds space for grief while creating connections between the artist, the land, and the audience. Chapter 5 (Mallee Parley) is not just an exhibition—it is an offering. It invites us to reflect on how we carry memory and loss, and how art can help us navigate these difficult terrains.

Bailey’s Chapter 5 is a parley—a conversation between artist and audience, between past and present, and ultimately, between love and loss.

Image: Nonsite BW 2 S No.5, 2024. Analog Photographic Digital Print. Aaron Bailey.