Tezuka - The Marvel Of Manga at the Art Gallery
Underground in the city and walking takes charge from the end of King Street Wharf to that of the Domain bearing the location of the Art Gallery of NSW. Where all manner of fare spew out in front of the entrance before the walk into the halls made partially hallow with sandstone or ambient death in fixture colours.
Deafening with the ongoing background music of a 40th on show, Tezuka: The Marvel of Manga, hits up a quad of tickets for the late morning into the early afternoon in an exhibition space too close, far too close, to the action of brass bands and piano keys on the celebratory notes of non-death.
Short into the motion and a tour shuffles their feet back and forth, reading panels of the work of Osamu Tezuka as they do. And as the guide instructs and drops a vowel lower than otherwise. Like eating an order of beef noodle soup in its traditionally known name to the locals and other food type people. Pronunciation, everything to everybody, nothing to nobody and always a point of conjecture between reading and speaking.
White on the white boards and artwork are clear and present themselves well under the light and gazing stares. Colours code the walls with thematic swell from one to another. Tezuka, from all accounts of a new found inspection, favours heavily into stories and works around that of the metamorphosis and gender imbalances. Of losing the standard roles to that of sheer questions and asking things such as what if and so what happens next.
Glimpses are only as interesting as delivery and reception and the consuming passion for knowledge reads and rips into each panel fervently looking for technique and shadows hiding in the lines between the black and red. Marvellous indeed for the display of static art, so pull away from the expectation of finding other versions, in other mediums, of work present and holding their own poses for as long as the fibres in the paper will allow.
Soon Van
Saturday, 14 April 2007 - 23:05
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