Yucky

Jumper by Makeda Duong. Hanging in the air with song lyrics knitted into it. Some lyrics say, “Experience to see the unseen glitter of life”, and “You let your body burn like never before and feels better than love.”

17th February - 4th May 2024

Adelaide Experimental Contemporary (ACE), Kaurna Land/so called Adelaide

Lead Artist: Sam Petersen

Artists: Josh Campton and Lorcan Hopper, Sophie Cassar, Makeda Duong, Elizabeth Reed, and Finnegan Shannon

Public Program Curators: William Maggs and Hen Vaughan

Facilitators: Rayleen Forester, Grace Marlow, and Patrice Sharkey

Trigger Warning: Depictions of surgery.

ABC journalist, Anita Barraud, said this was a “Safe communal space”. She didn’t know that behind the curtain, upper management had made the space unsafe. I won't be working with ACE again.

“I had a flower pattern of drool on my pillow case.”

“The yucky feeling you get when other people have too much power over your life.”

Excerpt from What is yucky? by Sam Petersen

Yucky is a group exhibition that explores the personal and political complexities that exist as part of disabled experience. The exhibition's premise and title has been led by artist Sam Petersen in conversation with Adelaide Contemporary Experimental.

This exhibition and accompanying programs reclaims the visceral world of 'yuck' and encourages audiences to question the ableist preconceived biases and assumptions we have toward disability and "yuckiness”.

Taking pride in what is socially assigned to yuckiness is a personal and political way to defiantly embrace what it is to be human outside of an able bodied set of value systems.

Yucky draws attention to institutional structures and systems of supposed support and 'care' that limit disabled people's autonomy, advocating for greater understanding of interdependence and the complexities of giving and receiving care.

Featuring new and recent work by a mix of pivotal local, national and international contemporary artists, Yucky centres disabled, chronically ill, deaf, and neurodivergent artists and is a call to disability awareness and justice.

With warm thanks to Raylene and Grace who made it bearable and brought joy.

"'Yucky"" exhibition wall text from ACE (2024) in Auslan, Australian sign language.

"'Yucky"" Artistic team credits from ACE (2024)

Sophie Cassar

A photo depicting a pair of legs standing on the tiles of a urinal floor. The right leg is in a plaster cast, also encasing a gold stiletto on the foot. The toes are exposed and red nail polish shines out

A triptych of black and white photographs in portrait format, showing the plaster cast, from wrapping to removal. The gloves of the people plastering have the fingers cut out showing their polished nails.

The first photo shows two gloved hands, one holding tweezers and the other scissors, working together to begin cutting down the plaster cast from the top edge under the knee.

The middle photo shows a pair of arms reaching across the frame. A partially exposed plastered foot in stiletto can be seen.

Last photo shows the plastered foot with stiletto being held up

Installation view of the photos hanging in the gallery. Colour photo of the cast leg hangs in the middle of the wall with light illuminating it. The triptych of black and white photos hangs on a wall to the right.

Clinic of the Gaze (2023)

series of 4 archival prints (inkjet on cotton rag) 123 x 82.5cm each

Courtesy of the artist

Sophie Cassar explores how illness and disability are portrayed in society using both photography and words.

In Clinic of the Gaze she examines the sexual politics of disability by referring to medical and disability fetishes. For example, the fetish abasiophilia involves a sexual attraction to people with mobility impairments who use orthopedic aids. This fetish often involves role-playing with plaster casts and leg braces, using bondage to mimic the limitations of physical disabilities. Sophie performs these ideas across a series of four large photographs, one in colour and three in black and white.

Through Clinic of the Gaze Cassar acts as the subject of this fetish to shed light on the dynamics of power and consent when a patient entrusts their body to medical procedures.

Photography by Amy May Stuart, studio assistance from Katie Ryan, Nunzio Madden, Jemi Gale and Hazi Nagel. Supported by Maribyrnong Council’s Western Artist Mentorship Program, with mentoring from Jane Trengove.

An installation view of the gallery space. In the center foreground is a sculpture on a white plinth. In the background, is Sophie Cassar's photographs. To the right is a suspended jumper.

Makeda Duong

Same jumper, the song lyrics are knitted in purple with yellow and peach letters, arranged in tight rows across the torso and arms. “Today I ask god to pour some wine in my eyes.” “I got a fever delirious to power.”

The jumper shown from behind. Knitted lyrics in white on a deep blue background. “A tear in the membrane allows the voices in.” “I’m trying to hide behind tired eyes I sigh I might survive the night time I might die.”

Close up. “As your bony fingers close around me, long and spindly fingers becomes me.” “There’s no time for hesitating pain is ready pain is waiting.” “There’s nothing left of me.”

The Real Thing (2023)

recycled viscose nylon, machine knit by Knitup Courtesy of the artist

Makeda Duong creates art that reflects her personal experiences with race, gender, and mental health.

In her piece The Real Thing Duong explores her experiences with bipolar disorder. Unlike her usual hand-knitted text-based works, she chose to use machine knitting for this project. The garment features carefully selected song lyrics that capture the intense mood swings of mania and depression. The title of the artwork is inspired by a song from the band Faith No More, which Duong relates her mental illness struggles with.

Front:
THIN YOU TO __ THE ROOTS
EXPERIENCE TO SEE THE UNSEEN
GLITTER OF LIFE YOU LET YOUR
JOY BURN LIKE NEVER BEFORE AN
FEELS BETTER THAN LOVE MY
_OMINATING FEAR TO MEDICATE I
TODAY I WILL ASK FOR GOD TO POUR
SOME WINE IN MY EYES CRADLE THE
INSPIRATION IT WILL LEAVE YOU
WRITHING ON THE FLOOR I GOT A
FEVER DELIRIOUS TO POWER /
THAT MULTI HEADED HYDRA-
THE CHIMERA MOVE LIKE A
___ BURNING FOR SOME ACTIV-
LET ME BE THE ACCIDENT THAT

Back:
hallowed
holiness is never found My hands are
caught in the net and they’re pale and
thin As your bony fingers close around
me long and spindly death becomes me
And if I finally die in peace just wrap my
body in these sheets and pour out the
gasoline There’s no time for hesitating

pain is ready pain is waiting A tear in
the membrane allows the voices in they
want to push you off the path i am trying
to hide behind tired eyes I sigh I might
survive the night time i might die You
suck on my soul you swallow me whole
there’s nothing left of me They say
you’re getting better but you don't tell
my better A modern day woman with

Left sleeve:
HOLD THE
TERRIBLE
POWER TO
WHOM ONLY
GODS ARE
BLESSED
SO I
DONT
HAVE TO
SEE THE
LIGHT
SHINING
SO BRIGHT
I DREAM ABOUT

Back left sleeve:
life there __
darkness And
the loudest s__
you ever
And so we can
crumble ten
tonne head
made of
and when
the
body speaks
all is hollow
hope is a

Right sleeve:
ECSTASY
CAN PR_
WILL NEVER
LET IT SLI-
WAY I FEEL
WANTED
DESIRE
CAN FEEL
ON FIRE
I FEEL
LOVED
I SHUT
MY EYES
I DON’T

Back right sleeve:
__ lost __
way got on
__ and __
chances
don't come easily
why is truth
hard to see
_ feeling
weighed
down for__
the lost
and
down
into
light

Makeda Duong’s work shown from inside a doorway. “Cradle the inspiration it will leave you writhing on the floor.” Sophie Cassar’s black and white photographs can be seen in the background.

Sam Petersen

A droplet shines in the light as it runs down a long strand of translucent mucus.

A life size photo of me on the ceiling. I'm in my power wheelchair. From my grinning, open mouth there is a thin strand of drool, streaming down out of the image.

The thin strand of drool is dripping to the floor, making a small pool. A yellow hazard cone is next to it, warning in capital letters, “SLIPPERY WHEN WET.”

An installation view of the work showing the image of me on the ceiling above a long puddle of drool on the floor. Two yellow hazard signs stand at either end.

Close up image of the graphics on the yellow hazard sign. A person is shown slipping. There is a little banana peel sticker that has been added to the sign under the person’s feet.

Drool Fountain (2023)

Steel, photographic print, glycerine Fabrication by Sculpture Co.

Courtesy of the artist

“Only something you fear for so much and for so long, could ever be so beautiful!

Take me, fuckers

This is a photo inspired by another photo seen 15 years ago, then a photographer friend said, ‘Oh wow,’ at my drool hanging from a straw that was in my latte. Dripping down to a pool on the floor.”

Sam Petersen is a visual artist, writer and performer. Sam is an AAC and power wheelchair user. Sam is also Queer; working in the politics of bodily function and prejudice through sensorial engagement. This change in Sam's art focuses on different materials, but the main idea stays the same.

Another view of my work. In the background, there is poetry written on the white gallery wall, surrounded by pieces of squared paper with description poetry written on them.

Joshua Campton and Lorcan Hopper

The poem written in black pencil on the white wall. The writing is a mix of upper and lower case and is condensed with little space between words. Transcription below.

Discrimination.

Difference.

Hard to understand some people .

My brain works different to other people,

Sometimes it does,

Sometimes it doesn't.

I like music,

making music With my heart beat club friends.

When I put different music together it makes a great combination it feels like something changing.

When I hear music that fits together it makes me happy when I hear music, it feels like something inside me.

It feels full of adrenaline.

Like a night club in my tummy.

All different lights and different Colours.

It helps me to be who I am today.

Wide view of the poem with scattered pieces of rectangular paper layered on top, stuck on the wall, surrounding the poem, reading, “DRY SKIN,” “TOXIC WASTE,” “DISLOCATED BONES,” “OPEN surgery”.

Rectangular pieces of paper attached to the wall, reading, “FLESH,” “CRAPPY,” “EATING THE WRONG WAY,”

“BURPING,” “EXPIRED FOOD,” “OFF MILK,” “Mouldy Food,” “Vomit,”

“DRY SKiN,” “SUNBURN PEELINGS,” “DiSLOCATED BONES,” “RAW HERRiNGS,” “TOXiC WASTE,” “BLood,” “SUNBURN BACK, SHOULDERS.”

“NOT CLEAN,” “FARTS,” “DEAd EyES,” “SLiCED bum chEEKS,” “Food POisoNiNg,” “ChoPPEd LiVER,”

Written on a white wall with black pencil reads, “DRAW OR WRITE TO EXPRESS WHAT YUCKY MEANS TO YOU,” above a white table with an open notepad and a pen attached to it.

Scattered Comets Inbetween the Lines (Multiverse) (2023)

Dimensions variable

Courtesy of the artist

Welcome to the scattered world and travel the solar system. Music is always in the heart. Listen to us so we can actually connect our story to the solar system.

“Because we are brothers

We see a different point of view (when working together)

Bullied and being discriminated (against) by other people and I feel yucky inside.

I focused on gruesome facts of the human body.

Josh: I started writing poetry out of my heart and mind

Lorcan: When I write poetry (a new poem) it feels like a different chapter. He goes to me. I go to him.

Poetry, DJing, dance, hip hop, theatre, multimedia.”

Joshua Campton is a disabled artist and proud Larrakia, Wadaman and Karajarri man. Josh has worked with Tutti Arts (since 2015), Back to Back Theatre, No Strings Attached, Restless Dance, Slingsby, SA First Nations Dance Collective and Kurruru Performing Arts. Josh is a founding member of the Beats Crew. Joshua Campton and Lorcan Hopper frequently collaborate and perform as DJ Salt and DJ Power – the Culture Brothers.

Back in the first room there is Makeda Duong Jumper. In the middle there is a blue bench To the right, there is white fabric on the wall. next to is a tv screen. There is a plinth and shelf to the right of the tv screen.

Finnegan Shannon and Sam Petersen

An angled view of a blue bench with text written on the back of the seat that says, “I feel yucky, grimy, grotty, messy, muddled, useless, punished, bedraggled, horrible, sick, and/or exhausted.”

A straight on view of the same blue bench. On the seat part of the bench it says, “Sit if you agree.”

Someone at the opening sitting on the bench with a drink

Do you want us here or not (ACE) (2023)

Plywood, paint

variable dimensions

Courtesy of the artists

Finnegan Shannon is an artist who challenges ableist norms through humour, honesty, and frustration. They struggle with walking and standing, so they're always on the lookout for places to sit and rest. After a painful and tiring museum visit in 2017, where they couldn't find enough seating, Finnegan decided to create artworks that double as benches to encourage more seating in exhibition spaces. Finnegan writes their thoughts on the benches for people to sit on and think about their experiences.

Their pieces feature text like "This exhibition is making me stand too long. Sit if you feel the same" or "I'd rather be sitting. Sit if you agree." This text expresses their frustration and humorously highlights the need for rest.

One of these benches was made specifically for the Yucky exhibition in collaboration with Sam Peterson.

Elizabeth Reed

Bioacromanusectomy: supporting the oral method dually with early cochlear implantation

Elizabeth Reed

Elizabeth.reed@academia.net.org.co.au

Hearing Academic Research Publications, September 1880 pp. 6-11

It is recommended that newborns who fail their hearing screening and therefore diagnosed with congenital hearing loss to receive bioacromanusectomy for increased cochlear implantation success, coupled with increased speech pathology success.

A hearing screen study led by CDC (2019) in Western countries identified ~0.1% of newborns being diagnosed with hearing loss; of the 140 million born annually, it is reasonable to determine that approximately 140,000 newborns will be diagnosed with hearing losses of up to 40dB (severe to profound) every year.

Children who receive cochlear implantation at an early age, from 4 to 11 months, achieve a similar trajectory in spoken language acquisition compared to their hearing counterparts [1] (Colletti, 2009).

FDA approval has been granted to lower the age of paediatric cochlear implantation, as “the research and support by trained hearing health professionals” (Cochlear Ltd, 2022) demonstrate the evidence of necessity for a child with hearing loss to be assimilated into society. Hearing-impaired children have “a substantial number of behavioural problems” due to being “mismatched” in hearing status (Quittner, Leibach, Maricel, 2004) [2].

A study by Ann. E Geers (2017) found that implanted children with no exposure to sign languages demonstrated significant gains in speech skills, achieving age-appropriate spoken language [3].

Bioacromanusectomy includes the removal of upper extremities using wrist disarticulation surgical methods before the ossification of the majority of carpal bones; as of 4 months, the capitate and hamate bones are ossified. It is recommended to cauterise the site of removal as soon as possible to reduce further issues with bone growth.

Figure 1. A cross section of a 4-month old infant hand. Showing capitate and hamate bones shaded. The dotted line indicates the bioacromanusectomy procedure.

Completing the bioacromanusectomy procedure before 6 months of age to supplement early implantation should minimise gesture development and therefore promote the use of oral communications in subjects.

[1] Of which has a 23% failure rate and the rate of cochlear failure increases with age of implantation.

[2] No further information as to whether behavioural assessments were completed by deaf and/or hearing adults.

[3] 70% of children in a sample of 97 hearing families, half with privileged backgrounds.

White silk image, depicts black text and image which reads like an infographic. Text below. The simple graphic depicts a cross section of an infant’s hand.

A surgical stainless steel kidney dish holding two sculpted, severed infant hands with droplets of blood. There is an object with a yellow tube and a metal fastener in the dish also.

A pale ceramic tile with a sculpted image of a severed infant hand. hand painted text above and below the image reads “fig. 1, ossification of the capitate and hamate at 4 months”.

A white shelf with 4 ceramic objects which reference severed infant hands, the bones can be seen in the severing at the wrist. The hands have pale skin and are in various states of gesturing

Close up view of another severed infant hand, the hand is positioned with fingers spread and palm open.

Close up view of the ceramic object reveals a glazed complexion with blue tones in the wrinkles, yellow nails, and a red cross section. The hand is gesturing with the palm up with the thumb finger lightly touching the index finger.

Close up view of another severe infant hand object, this hand is palm down with fingers slightly squeezed together.

Close up view of another infant hand object, the hand is palm up, the fingers curling in.

The infographic silk is next to a tv screen, the screen is showing the medical ad. To the left is the white plinth and shelf holding the metal dish and objects.

Peer Viewed Body Parts of a Work (2023)

Mixed media installation

Dimensions variable

Courtesy of the artist

Elizabeth Reed uses her art to share the deaf experience. As an advocate for deaf education, she works at a deaf school, aiming to draw attention to the issues facing the deaf community and future generations.

Peer Viewed Body Parts of a Work visually critiques the hearing-focused approach to "fixing" deaf children, influenced by academic research that overlooks deaf scholars. It questions society's opposition to deafness and sign language. Reed uses the imagery of cut infant hands, surgical tools and instructional video to communicate a shocking idea of what enforcing a medical procedure could look like for audiences. While the concept of "bimarcosectomy" may be fictional, discouraging sign language can lead to language deprivation and trauma in reality.

Yucky Reading Room

For the Yucky Reading Room, Adelaide Contemporary Experimental (ACE) has gathered rich texts, audio and video that have inspired each exhibition artist. The resulting collection engages with topics such as illness, the abject, disability, access advocacy, and the body as a political state.

The Yucky Reading Room and the exhibition's public programs will share this space to encourage conversation and self-education.

It is a room for guests to gather, learn, explore and critique the ideas shared across ACE's galleries.

Additionally, a suite of digital resources have been made available for audiences who cannot access the gallery, extending Yucky's presence beyond these walls.

The Yucky Reading Room is a space where you can relax, reflect and dig deeper into the ideas shared in the Yucky exhibition.

A top down image showing tables with various sized books, zines and a banana skin sticker. With titles of books like “care work, dreaming disability justice”, “language, potter interdisciplinary forum”.

A golden half skinned banana dangles off a ring which has been put around a tube which protrudes from my tummy. The jewellery dangles from the tube onto hair.

A wide view revealing the photograph printed on a table top. The golden half skinned banana dangling into my pubic hair, above my flowery Pajama bottoms.

Urine Luck (2023)

Vinyl digital print photo on table top.

A close up image of a pale pink t-shirt with a drool graphic in a darker pink tone printed on the front.

Design by Sam Petersen

A screen showing William Maggs signing the exhibition text.

Sam Petersen

A pile of yellow posters reading “slippery when wet” with a graphic of a person slipping on a little banana peel sticker that has been added. The posters are held down by a banana skin ceramic sculpture.

Yucky.

What is yucky?

All of my life I have felt deeply yucky, in every way.

Of course I'm what they used to call germaphobic, but I hope now they just call being real.

People are really really yucky, and I think well they must see me as even more yucky, I am even more yucky.

And this has only been reinforced by people’s ostracism.

People looking past me to say, “Sorry,” to my support worker when they get in my way.

Being at a party, being told your costume is great and then that person telling your support worker that their costume is great too, but they also get a kiss. I didn't want a kiss and neither did my support worker, but why didn't they kiss me?

The yucky feeling you get when other people have too much power over your life.

The yucky feeling I get when people say I'm their friend and I don't feel it.

They look good if I'm their friend.

Being told by the pool people to wear long pants in the pool to hide my catheter.

The sad uncomfortable look I get when I express my access needs. Or still, disbelief.

Not being allowed into things that other people are. I am left too numb to cry and no one seems to care, that there is a hole in my heart that will never be filled.

“I was afraid of having to take care of you.”

Knowing everyone thinks that.

My sister going, “You sleep like this,” putting herself face down into the pillow and head to one side. Then she gets up and goes, “ew,” at her inevitable drool left behind. I had a flower pattern of drool on my pillow case.

And so on, and so on.

People may say I'm not yucky, but there is heaps of evidence that I am - Yucky. I know I am cleaner than most people, but I know people really think I'm yucky.

So I'm, Yucky.

And I have asked other artists with disabilities if they feel Yucky too.

By Sam Petersen