Transcript
Penny Dunston:
I thank you, light, for the supple way your mest touch gives shape to such things I could only learn to love through your delicate instruction. I’m Penny Dunston, a scientist and artist. My background is in agronomy and soil science, and I find art as my favorite way to express this. My favorite things in the world are going for horse rides and breeding chickens.
My art practice derives from my studies in soil science and the understanding that soil is the most important part of the earth, keeping humans and all life alive. Good soils give you good air and water, making them a primary resource that we often neglect.
All my art tries to explain to people the wonder and amazement of soil, encouraging them to understand it as more than just “dirt” but as “earth.” I was interested in Liddell because I understood it to be extremely old. The craftsmanship required to keep the power station running was enormous, as every broken part had to be handmade, like stepping back into the 1950s.
At Liddell, I’m interested in the fly ash. Fly ash is the ash produced when you burn coal or wood. Some ash sinks to the bottom, and some floats up the chimney. I’m fascinated by the contrast between perian (the coal) and anthropos (the manufactured fly ash) and how they relate.
In my work at Liddell, I aim to make fly ash beautiful and place it in your living room. Fly ash is toxic because it contains remnants of tons of burnt coal. Therefore, I encase it in plastic resin to make it safe to look at and contemplate. The ash, once coal, was once trees and soil from the Permian era, creating a circle of life.
In terms of process, I mix two-pack resin and pour it onto a flat surface. I place the fly ash in the center, surrounded by clear resin. I add a bit of coal, creating a lovely iris shape. Once set, I drape it over a form, and when it hardens, I peel off the plastic, revealing the final shape.
Creating art in my carport, surrounded by horses, hay, and my dog, and then transporting it to the gallery is an amazing transformation. The staff at the Singleton gallery have been fantastic, understanding, and lifting the work both figuratively and literally, exceeding my expectations.
I’ve chosen to work with bowls over the last few years because bowls are domestic objects we eat from, give to people, fill with food, and share with friends and family. The power station ash is toxic, and I want to explore the contrast between domestic care and toxicity. Liddell gave us warmth, electricity, home, and jobs, but also left behind toxic ash, water interruptions, and holes in the earth.
Despite these issues, there’s hope. We can work with these materials, transforming waste into something beautiful. Instead of seeing ash as poison, we can respect it as part of the country. In that respect lies hope, finding a middle way to work with ash, the ground, and contaminated rivers, and move forward. There’s always hope.
