Jill CrossleyUnprotected Images12th July - 5th August 2017 | Stanley Street Gallery

Jill Crossley
Unprotected Images

12th July – 5th August 2017
Jill Crossley, Fenestration, Digital Print on Cotton Rag, 40x30cm. $880

Jill Crossley, Fenestration, Digital Print on Cotton Rag, 40x30cm. $880

Stanley Street Gallery is excited to announce our second exhibition of photography by Jill Crossley, titled Unprotected Images.

Now in her late eighties, Crossley has been looking at this world through a lens for over 70 years. She has been described as one of the pioneering female photographers in Australia.

In her career, Crossley has worked with some exceptional artists, most notably Max Dupain. From 1957-58 she was his assistant and she was especially inspired by the high aesthetic standards he observed. Dupain was also very impressed with Crossley’s work. In his review of her exhibition in 1981 at the David Reid Gallery he wrote:

“It would be safe to say that this little exhibition of photographs is one of the most consequential of its kind we have witnessed for some time”. Max Dupain

Described as a “tenacious, talented photographer” by Robert McFarlane, Crossley’s work features along with Olive Cotton in Australian Women Photographers 1840-1960 by Barbara Hall and Jenni Mather (1981).

Crossley’s work was included in the exhibition by the The National Gallery of Australia titled In the Cold: Photography 1945-1965, of which the Sydney Morning Herald’s Bruce James wrote: “Australians Max Dupain and Jill Crossley hold their own”.


At first glance, Unprotected Images by Jill Crossley

is a study of two contrasting trees; huge figs and wispy She-oaks.

They appear to be opposites. The figs are strong and bold. Muscular. Light and silky. Big extroverts boasting of their size and sheer presence. The sheoaks – or casuarinas – are dark and slender and murmur in clusters along waterways, casting their blanket of fine needles to preserve their mystery and quiet. Easy to overlook. Easy to underestimate. Easy to under value.

But, the thread which weaves through 88 year old Crossley’s oeuvre, is to look beyond the surface. This exhibition is a contemplation of similarity and difference with a profound message about the interconnectedness of life and the natural world.

“Ficus and casuarina are both trees,” she says. “Like people. And in spite of our diversity of cultures, and with the social upheaval and discord flamed by current political environments which emphasis those differences, we are all one.”

Crossley has been indelibly influenced by the work and philosophy of Kenji Miyazawa, the Japanese Poet of Light (1896-1933), whose progressive, environmental philosophy was derided by his contemporaries but underscored how one part of the complex natural web could not be changed without influencing all else.

In the exhibition, the figs are sensuous and svelte. Some images, which are abstractions, could be mistaken for human forms, while others contrast the fragility of aerial roots against the majesty of trunks and limbs. Their singularity is emphasised, and somehow they are rendered, solitary unique individuals in these works.

These trees – Hills Weeping Ficus – grow close to Trumper Park, Paddington, where Crossley lived earlier in her life.

Under Crossley’s care, the Casuarinas shimmer with diversity, a brilliance and a range, which for most viewers is unsuspected. The dark and dour colours of this tree, their relegation as non-useful timber, is revealed as a camouflage. Crossley communicates their lyricism and charisma.

The stand in this exhibition is located behind Gosford Regional Art Gallery’s Japanese garden, not far from where Crossley now lives on the Central Coast.

The sheer ebullience, of branches, fine needle foliage, and conversation of trunks and branches give these Casuarinas a community and joie-de-vivre that contrasts strongly with the ego-centricity of the figs.

“What appeals to me is their mysteriousness and their subtlety. What is hidden. I try to find patterns and try to make sense of it in an artistic way when I photograph. I would like to find poetry in them, but it is elusive.”

“I want to find an order in what initially seems confusing – and to communicate that. I hope viewers will see some of the beauty and feel some of the inspiration I get from these trees.”

While the representation of the trees in this exhibition demonstrates their opposing natures, and features, their form, beauty and life is also strongly celebrated and we, the viewers, are enriched.

Fiona Ryan-Clark