Troy-Anthony Baylis is an artist descendant of the Jayown people from the Northern Territory. The former course coordinator of Aboriginal Cultures, Comparative Indigenous Studies and Indigenous Philosophy at the University of South Australia, works across a multitude of disciplines including performance, costume design, photography and more.
Baylis’ work features bold text and symbolism examining themes of colonisation, migration and trauma. His current work which explores the legacy of hate speech and queer-indigenous ‘language’ was recently featured in two exhibitions at Sydney WorldPride on Gadigal Country. Baylis is a self-proclaimed KYLIEminologist and DANNIIminologist, whose work explores the intersections of sexuality and indigeneity with strong influences from pop-culture, art history and queer aesthetics.
In this Colour Box Studio interview, Baylis discusses his early migration around Australia, creating meaning and power through lived experience and art practice, and his upcoming solo exhibition at QUT Art Museum on Turrbal and Jagera Country/Brisbane.
Tell us a little bit about yourself and what you do.
I’m 47. My art practice began in 1993 and I made the decision to go full-time with it in 2019 when it was announced my work was to be included in The National 2019: New Australian Art at Carriageworks, Sydney.
My art has so far included performances, videos, paintings, costumes, knittings, assemblages, photography, embroidery, artist multiples, installations, and parade floats. Sometimes I turn to curating or writing as a way of expressing myself and to hopefully contribute to discourses outside of my own art making.
Some of the work reveals intersections of sexuality and indigeneity. Some of the work explores themes of colonisation and migration. Some of the work tries to deal with multiple experiences of trauma. Often the work draws from elements of pop culture, art history, and queer aesthetics.
How did you start your creative practice and why?
I’ve been making objects through crafting methods since I was a young child. My grandfathers taught me spool knitting and one of my grandmothers taught me to knit with knitting needles. I recall the joy of making, the satisfaction of building something.
I have strong memories of stamp collecting with the grandmother who taught me the knitting with needles. Used postage stamps would arrive in packages from all over the world. We would soak them, dry them, sort them, and I would be visually stimulated by the range of international subjects, designs, and variations.
These two experiences of ‘repetitive crafting’ have continued to manifest throughout much of my work to date. Although I regard my professional practice to have began in 1993, I think its formal foundations began from these earlier experiences. My work is now more pointed in its subject matter and has more creative rigour. It is more deliberate. It knows what it is.
Where did you grow up and how has it influenced your practice?
I was born in Hornsby and grew up in Marayong, Glen Innes, Delungra, Brisbane, Townsville, Rockhampton, Bundaberg, Bowen, then Brisbane again – all these places in New South Wales and Queensland, usually in caravan parks, all by the time I was 14. For the next ten years I lived in various Brisbane locations including Prospect House (a home for queer youth considered at risk of homelessness) and the Avalon building (low-rent studio-apartments for artists), then migrated to Adelaide 23 years ago where I remain.
I think my life in migration among other uneasy facts about me have contributed internally and externally to my feelings of not belonging, not being included, not being trusted. I eventually realised, and times have also changed, that I have stories and connections to all these places and all facets of myself. I have come to a realisation that I embody the meaning of resilience, that if the hardship I have endured almost defeated me several times over, then I could draw on its power to create powerful work. This said it is a daily struggle to be an artist, both emotionally and economically. I sometimes feel like Humpty Dumpty, that I may never be able to be put back together again despite how much work I put into it.
Tell us about your past creative projects. What has been your most treasured creation?
I have never put any works of art into the public domain that cause me regret in any way. It is a diverse artistic practice that expresses diversity. Occasionally I struggle with the negative trope of the artist as selfish, and I have to remind myself that what I do is actually relatable and is therefore important enough to allow the light to shine onto it.
My solo exhibition Nomenclatures at the Art Gallery of South Australia I currently regard as topping my proud list. It was really exciting to have three entire series of work on display in such prominent space within the gallery – the front and the rear: Postcards, Nomenclatures, and Tell Them Their Dreaming. The experience of having my work privileged in this public space was a pinch-myself moment. I had for so long felt like I or my work didn’t belong in any space of prominence. Then wham! Just when I had zero expectations… the doors opened.
Tell us about your current project?
I have just been on Gadigal Country / Sydney for two exhibitions for Sydney WorldPride: a solo exhibition that deals with a legacy of gay hate speech at The Cross Art Projects called Anita Bryant Monuments; and a groupie at Cement Fondu, Linger, Dash, Talk that explores the ways in which queer and indigenous artists use encoded, private or anecdotal languages as tools to redress.
Who or what inspires your practice?
I am inspired by history, culture, and stories that ultimately set out to reconcile the world. I am always interested in drawing upon the vast diversity of the visual arts, contributing to its language rather than seeing my practice and the work I create as automatically unique, devoid of any art historical relationships. Ironically I am finding the more aware my work is of history, the more it’s uniqueness becomes clear.
Where do you feel most creative and why?
I tend to feel most creative when I’m on an aircraft. If only I could get funding exclusively for the purpose of air travel! Perhaps being physically above Country, above ground, I am better placed to reflect upon the world. I feel most safe in Germany rather than my own country. I think this might be a combination of its bohemian history and also because it is dealing with its histories of warfare, genocide, and statelessness in upfront and progressive ways. Australia still feels like a battle ground, particularly when we attack people who are on the same team or who are trying to help us.
What do you hope audiences take from your work?
I have learned to not rely on what anyone thinks of me or my work for my own sense of self-love or approval. I have worked very hard for decades, am fortunately very well educated and I am very aware of what I put into the world. Maybe people are too busy to pick up on the amount of care towards others I put into my work. Maybe people think artists just want fame and fortune. Frankly, I’m too busy being concerned about what I think of myself to be concerned what others think of me. If anything I would like people to see my work as having integrity, as being careful, considered, and with intent to make the world a better place than when I entered it.
What future projects are you looking forward to?
My next project is a solo exhibition at QUT Art Museum on Turrbal and Jagera Country / Brisbane called I wanna be adorned, 20 June to 1 October 2023. It draws on textile and assemblage works, dating from 2006 until now that either represent bodies or imply being worn on the body. Included within the display will be the debut of a new series called Two Hearts.
Where can we find and follow you online?
I don’t operate a website but if you type the correct spelling of my name into any internet search engine there is a lot of material about my work. My Instagram account is @btroyanthony