Diffraction, Syrup Contemporary
Sydney, July 13 - August 3, 2024
2023, English ~ Softcover (staple-bound), 16 pages, 29.7 x 21cm, Edition of 50 ~ Published by Light of Day Books / Melbourne
A collection of images I made on film, between 1999-2005, across Australia, Taiwan and Germany. In the photographs are: friends, animals, oceans, one Baxter Immigration Detention Centre protest image, one anti-Woolworths protest image, one lover, one river, one photographic experiment, some trees, and plants.
Four Lakes in Neither Magazine ~ published by Loose Joints
~ Founders / Editors Sunil Shah & Bharat Sikka
Emerging out of the recent pandemic, Neither is interested in creating a space for new and experimental photographic practices emerging out of South Asia and from the diaspora. However, our ultimate aim is to avoid labels based on region, nation or identity, and so this publication is neither this, nor that. It offers no grand narrative and instead foregrounds the photographic. It welcomes creative production from everywhere and reflects life as its producers and contributors experience it. What is common to all its constituent parts is a commitment to visual language and the way this forms our understanding of the world.
the kids are in trouble ~ Future Tense: Living the future now
Format Festival, Quad Derby UK, 03 - 06 2024
I’ve admired Katrin’s
beautifully disarming work for many years now, since coming across her
earlier work back in 2010 when I was starting my photography studies.
She has a brilliant and uncompromising vision and is someone I could
happily talk to for hours, discussing not just art and photography, but
all issues we face socially, politically and otherwise. Katrin’s visual
language is adorned with subtlety and poetry. Both transient and
contrived, with a meticulous attention to colour, texture and tone
throughout her colour, and black and white works.
British Journal of Photography - In the Studio
'Nestled in an old European-style building, on a quiet side street, Katrin Koenning’s expansive first-floor apartment acts as a retreat and workspace. As I walk to meet her on a sunny autumn morning, I wander through the suburb of Prahran, just a couple of miles south of Melbourne’s city centre. Prahran (pronounced ‘Pran’ in the local vernacular) got its name from the Indigenous Boonwurrung word for the local river, and sits a short distance from both the river and the beaches of Melbourne’s Port Phillip Bay. Prahran occupies an important place in Australia’s photographic history as the location of the famous Prahran Technical College (now closed) which saw students like Carol Jerrems, Susan Fereday and Bill Henson walk through its doors in the 1970s and 80s.
Koenning’s apartment is her creative haven. Multiple pinboards
decorated with test prints, illustrations, newspaper clippings and
collages are hung around her home creating an energy of inspiration and
productivity. A large photobook collection occupies an expansive and
light-filled wall in one room. Another room is devoted to processing and
scanning her negatives, which she still does herself – a mark of how
important process and consistency is to her practice. And, in a
different part of the apartment, in a glass sunroom, rows of tagged and
numbered black-and-white negatives hang from the ceiling in their
dozens. Yet despite all this activity, each zone in Koenning’s apartment
feels ordered, vast and intentional. There is no place for any clutter
or matter out of place.' Text Daniel Boetker-Smith
Acquisition, while the mountains had feet
(2020-2022), National Gallery of Victoria
+++ full suite of works acquired in 2022
(In pandemic time), through grief and chaos and the madness of it all, walking lent great comfort day and night. When the clocks had lost their hours and worlds lay away like distant planets, everyone was solacing in being held this way; roads and paths carried all our drifting bodies. By 2021, my feet had carried me eight times around the globe already, tailing the haze that had befallen everything. Seasons had long assumed events; coming apart and re-assembling in novel ways, a kind of measure by which to navigate the trembling present. There were five kilometres where we belonged, between the river and the sea. Love was in a closer way; it was a time of endings and beginnings, loss and change. I saw ants carry their dead, foxes cross the road at midnight. I saw trees grow, birds cloak together on branches in the cold. I saw everything touched by everything else. Farther, snow came and went at least one hundred times. It helped to seek to be as liquid as one could – to conjure and collapse and yield in one perpetual commotion. To flow without our bodies to the sun; unresidential, and mutual to everything. No one knew how many years would pass this way. Were we awake or dreaming?
Using fragments and slippages to suggest narrative spaces, communities and lived experiences that are allied, fluid and multiplicit, mountains invites migrant pieces from four different bodies of work (all made since 2020) into a dialogical ontology. The wall holds their fellowship. The gathering of works creates extended imaginaries with my immediate communities, all the while positing the neighbourhood as an inner-city mini-ecology in which non-humans and humans are in near muster (together rather than apart). The hyper-local is the centre stage; on it tales of entanglement, relation, connection and intimacy unfold. Here loves, neighbours, animals, streets and parks of my suburb are the main protagonists, reminding that the close is revelatory and never fully known. Leaning against the shadows, mountains is a conversation of kinship, grief, repair and shelter.