We see you as you walk through the halls between classes. Watch as you study, nose to page, beneath the warm light of Schaeffer Library. We revel in witnessing your youthful days, graduated from the strictures of high school yet inexperienced in the full force of adulthood. We hang on the walls of the R C Mills building, hinting at histories long passed and sitting at the precipice of the present moment.

Paintings, photographs and sculptures are scattered throughout campus, sitting on walls and perched in unassuming corners. Often we walk past them, leaving them unnoticed. One particular area of campus rich with artworks is the R C Mills Building (A26); it humbly sits on the corner of Fisher Rd and Manning Rd. As the locale of Art History and Film Studies professors, as well as The Power Institute and Schaeffer Fine Arts Library (one of the largest art reference libraries in Australia) it is no surprise that a variety of artworks adorn its walls.

Anne Zahalka, Jacques Derrida Lecture, Sydney Town Hall 1999 (1999)

Before the glass doors that take you through to Schaeffer Library, there sits a large panoramic photograph by Australian artist Anne Zahalka titled Jacques Derrida Lecture, Sydney Town Hall 1999 (1999). The work captures French philosopher Jacques Derrida delivering a lecture at Sydney Town Hall in 1999, organised by The Power Institute. The camera is positioned towards the back of the hall, looking out over a sea of avid spectators, heads turned in unison to face Derrida. By virtue of looking at the photograph, we mimic the behaviour of the spectators within the frame, us too directing our attention towards the star of the event.

Derrida is renowned for the theory of deconstruction — a philosophical approach centred on the relationship between text and meaning, suggesting that language is fluid rather than fixed and discernable. Deconstruction influenced a range of humanities subjects, including law and psychoanalysis, however also contributed to the development of deconstructivism, a postmodern movement involved in the worlds of architecture and art.

The photograph forms part of Leisureland (1999), a series in which Zahalka photographed crowds of people in public spaces of leisure. These slightly surreal images range from suburban swimming pools and artificially-lit gyms to prestigious academic events. Through her employment of panoramic angles and symmetrical compositions, Zahalka transforms real-world, familiar settings into eerily cinematic scenes. Zahalka herself has stated that the other-worldly, somewhat seductive, way in which she captures these settings is reflective of “a collective bid to escape the ordinariness of suburban life…in these contrived entertainment worlds.” This particular photograph outside Schaeffer examines the yearning to escape the quotidian through coming into contact with intellectual celebrity.

The first time I happened upon this work I was taken aback by its grandeur — so much so that I did not see a man standing next to me. This man, immaculately dressed in a grey suit, walked up to the perspex and settled his fingertip on a spot towards the middle of the composition. “I was sat about here,” he said. I later found out that he was not only an Honorary Associate of USyd and former Senior Lecturer in Film and Animation Studies but also a mentee of Derrida himself. This man, standing next to me on a muggy Wednesday afternoon during mid-semester break, was involved in the orchestration of the very event pictured before us.

In this moment, I was enveloped by awe — part of which can be attributed to my feeling that I was experiencing one of those strange moments of synchronicity that life occasionally decides to throw your way, and part of which was due to his personal tie to a great, world-leading philosopher. For the short minutes that I engaged in conversation with him, it felt like I was coming into tangible contact with an important part of history.

In retrospect, I realise that in this moment I was mimicking the very awe displayed by the spectators within the work in front of me, the very awe with intellectual celebrity that Zahalka had observed all of those years ago. It is as though a piece of the original event had transported itself to 2022, meeting me in the hall of R C Mills, and providing me with a delicious taste of that “contrived entertainment world.”

J W Power, Danseurs l’accordeon (circa 1928)

Moving through the glass entrance of Schaeffer Library and stepping into its silent interior, we approach a wall lined with paintings by post-cubist Australian artist J W Power, one of the central figures of early 20th century Australian art.

Power started his tertiary education studying medicine at USyd but after serving in the First World War, he immersed himself in the Parisian avant-garde scene and decided to pursue art. While in France during ‘Annes Folles,’ a celebratory post-war period, Power lived at the heart of this vivacious atmosphere, attending live music events and participating in artist groups such as Abstraction-Creation. [A photograph of Power, standing amidst his contemporaries in French artist Fernand Leger’s art school Academie Moderne in 1924, can be found in the entrance of Schaeffer (before the librarian’s desk, to the right)]. These experiences living amongst the European creative elite contributed to the development of Power’s hybrid cubist-surrealist style.

In Danseurs a l'accordeon, Power adopts cubist techniques to depict cowboy-like figures in a state of dance, playing instruments and jostling about. Fracturing and flattening the pictorial plane, slices of bell-bottomed pants and cowboy hats are thrown together with the keys of an accordion. Objects depicted within the work are angled towards the exterior of the frame, evoking an outward expulsion of energy, perhaps mimicking the boisterous and frenetic movements of 1920s dance.

Not only was Power passionate about the creation of his own art, he was ardent about engaging with the work of his contemporaries and making those ideas accessible to Australians. This is evidenced in Power's multi-million dollar bequest to USyd in 1962 which led to the development of the Department of Art History, The Power Institute and the Museum of Contemporary Art.

Jennifer Van Ratingen, the labour of love (2022)

If we were to turn 180 degrees from Danseurs a l'accordeon and tilt our heads upwards, we would find ourselves acquainted with the labour of love, a sculptural work by third-year SCA student Jennifer Van Ratingen. the labour of love is part of The Schaeffer Fine Arts Library Residency 2022, a new initiative funded by The Power Institute which provides a student from the SCA “the opportunity to be mentored by and exhibit with a practicing contemporary artist.”

Van Ratingen was paired with established Australian artist Imants Tillers and asked to respond to Tillers’ oeuvre as well as Schaeffer Library in general, alluding to the rich collection of books or the architecture of the space, for example.

Speaking to Van Ratingen, I found that she was inspired by the library as a site of shared knowledge and academic endeavour, consequently wanting to offer students and occupants of the library space a moment of pause and connection.

the labour of love consists of four light beige panels made of plaster and bricks, sourced from Van Ratingen’s family home. On the surface of these panels, Van Ratingen has painted a selection of everyday objects (a glass ashtray littered with cigarette butts, a scrunched-up note on paper) and carved fragments of quotidian dialogue such as ‘are you warm enough?’ or ‘have you been getting enough sleep?’.

The words are at once generic and deeply personal, acting as indistinct echoes of conversations shared between loved ones in quiet moments. The etched words almost disappear in the plaster, only brought into relief once the viewer decides to actively engage with the work, taking time to decipher the intimate questions and phrases. In this way, Van Ratingen encourages a prolonged meeting between her audience and her work, feeding into her intention to offer her audience a meditative experience. Also, the half-presence of the words, legible yet partially hidden, could potentially be read as emblematic of the fact that these private conversations form the fabric of our everyday lives, yet are often almost invisible to us. Thus, Van Ratingen allows us an opportunity to acknowledge the depth within these casual moments of dialogue, allowing for a renewed appreciation of personal relationships.

the labour of love also encourages an appreciation of everyday objects. Realistically rendering images from her camera roll, such as a flower or human ear, Van Ratingen pulls at a shared experiential knowledge of the physical world, offering the viewer a bridge between herself and themselves. Hence, Van Ratingen does offer the occupants of Schaeffer a moment of pause and connection, generously providing them with an opportunity to engage with the physical details of her world and, by extension, their own, in a way that is free from academic modes of thinking.

Artworks are more than pigment on canvas, objects used to fill blank walls — they are rich sources of personal and cultural histories. Next time you are walking through the university halls, take a gander at what’s on the walls. You never know what, or who, you might find.

An art tour of A26

Paintings, photographs and sculptures are scattered throughout campus, sitting on walls and perched in unassuming corners.