The Thin Blue Line: In conversation with Kate Butler
Award-winning mosaic artist Kate Butler’s solo exhibition ‘Presence // Absence’ opened at X Gallery in Bungendore NSW in September 2002. Ahead of the show, I recorded this conversation with her for the journal Opus Oracle, exploring the themes and processes behind her work.
Toni: Congratulations Kate, on your forthcoming solo show at X Gallery, Bungendore. I am particularly taken by one of the works, ‘The Unsettled Holds the Future’. There are a number of pieces in the work, of varying size, with a dark stone and striking thin blue line interior. What is this constellation (pictured) about?
Kate: I created this wall installation after reading about 19 major ecosystems collapsing across Australia. The constructed biomorphic forms embody seed pods and bird beaks of endangered trees and birds in the Southern Tablelands region in NSW, where I live. I have been working with seed pod forms since early 2019 and collecting them since 1995 when I migrated to Australia from England. Their beautiful, other worldliness fascinates me.
I set the slate tesserae to create shadows to suggest absence; the loss of animals, plants and insects due to the climate crisis, land clearing and human greed. I’ve used undulations and repetition to suggest movement, heightened by the day’s shifting light. The shifting surface represents the prevailing winds of uncertainty. The blue gold lines are a homage to everyone, particularly First Nations people, climate scientists, environmental advocates, activists, farmers. And students, who at great personal cost are striving to prevent the hellscapes of environmental and societal collapse. In some ways, this work is a plea for action. It can be hard not to be overwhelmed by the existential threat that we are facing. But for those of us that are able to, we need to step into our courage and do what we can.
Toni: Your work is increasingly about climate change and ecocide, the collapse of whole ecological communities. We have talked about this as women grappling with how to have hope. Even though you have shared your palpable anger about climate policy and complacency in Australia to deal with the biodiversity crisis, your work does not scream about it. It's poignant and aesthetically pleasing. You don't shock the viewer. So, what's the process for you in thinking about it as an expression of your feelings?
Kate: This body of work is an expression of that dance. Above all, what I hope viewers can see is my love for the natural world. And in drawing them into ‘quiet’ works, a space has been created for contemplation and reflection about the subject.
My anger towards fossil fuel companies and lying, coal/gas-loving governments who are wilfully and criminally destroying Earth, fuels my motivation and initial research. I also try to channel my anger into activism. When making, I seem to do this dance between despair, grief at what’s been lost and destroyed, fear, and hope. Mosaic as a slow art form allows me to digest, reflect and ride through this emotional tangle.
Toni: We've known each other in our non-art and art professional lives for more than a decade now. And in that time your social research has receded and mosaics, have occupied your creative life. But what is it about your earlier training that prepared you for the relative solitude of working in your shed making work?
Kate: Jumping from social research to mosaicing was pretty easy. Making meanings, whether it’s from thousands of pieces of interview data or thousands of tesserae, involves doing the things I love. Observing, being curious, reading, listening to dissimilar voices, figuring out lines of inquiry, exploring associations and patterns, and experimenting. Ideas emerge and evolve through researching. I also have the added benefit of not having to deal with pesky federal bureaucrats who want to radically alter research findings to suit the political agenda of the day.
Toni: Why tell stories about the climate emergency with small regular or irregular pieces of coloured stone? What is it about the material that speaks to you and that you aim to speak to us?
Kate: I’ve been working with salvaged slate roofing for around five years now. Like any other material, slate has its own language and is sedimented evidence of deep time. As every mosaicer knows, when working with stone, there is a real feeling that magic is happening. Cleaving or cutting stone, you’re never sure what you might find. Fossils and knots of mica reveal themselves amidst iridescent streaks harbouring deep-time secrets. The abundance of embedded memories, be they geological or cultural, allows me to create layers of meaning in a work. I’m aware of a paradox working with rocks. Rocks give me a sense of permanence in a quickly fading world. However, the hundreds of thousands of cuts symbolise humanity’s violence against the environment.
Toni: Finally, taking a step back and look forward, who or what has been influencing your practice lately and what are you hoping for by way of enchantments to keep you going?
Kate: I’m currently reading ‘Lines’ by anthropologist Tim Ingold as part of my research. He is extraordinary in how he traces the changing relations between lines and surfaces across different subjects such as storytelling, weaving, drawing and writing. I’m also planning a trip to see family in Scotland and Amsterdam next year. It’s been way too long since we’ve hugged each other.