3.

Through the Looking Glass

A conversation with Nissassa Bacci and Peta Treble

By Mollie Wilson

The spaces that we inhabit are teeming with “stuff”. Inanimate materials and objects that often work in tandem to enhance and simplify our lives. Crockery, irons, cups, pipes, desks, pillows; the list goes on. We take their presence for granted until they are broken. When they break, they are exposed. This is because we have reduced them to their function and without that function, we see no use for them. 

Although many of us discard these objects with careless abandon, there are some amongst us who recognise a whole potential world of characters and stories, beyond an object's function. Take childhood favourites, Toy Story, Alice in Wonderland, Beauty and the Beast. What happens when we go to sleep at night? What happens when we look the other way? 

We think of consciousness as something exceptionally gifted to us humans. But is consciousness not something collective, and even transferrable? Just as we construct meaning out of chaos, we have the capacity to extend our consciousness beyond ourselves and into the spaces we inhabit. As such, we have a unique instinct to personify things, endowing inanimate objects with the subtleties of our own conscious experience. 

Photograph by Mae Hartrick

In their immersive exhibition ‘I Object’ at Gallery 17, multi-disciplinary artists Nissassa Bacci and Peta Treble probe the range of their own conscious experience through an exploration of objects and their unique personalities within space. Their objects are glowing with agency and awareness, forcing us to question the nature and limitations of our own perception. Not only do we observe the objects, but the objects observe us. 

The project began during lockdown, when the two housemates would drive around looking for hard rubbish.

“We were both drawn to things that had shape and texture, anything that sparked a character or a potential,” says Nissassa. Returning to their shared studio, Peta describes “sorting them, dancing with them, making them talk to each other.” Through a process of playful collaboration, a world of unique characters was born. Peta adds with a laugh, “we couldn’t see our own friends, so we just made friends.”

‘I Object’ merges the distinct but parallel visions of Nissassa and Peta, who describe themselves as approaching objects in a similar way, but at the same time, “in reverse of one another.” Nissassa’s sculptural and painting work is focused on the body, which allows her to interrogate objectification and the way that bodies exist within space. Peta, on the other hand, works primarily with video and sculpture, to investigate processes of perception and the construction of meaning. Although their conceptual approaches are diverse, Peta says, “we usually come up with different aspects of the same story,” and Nissassa; “we kind of balance each other out.”

In their world-building practices, both Peta and Nissassa have drawn heavily from dual theatre backgrounds. Theatre provided both artists with a taste of multi-disciplinary collaboration, particularly through the addition of sound and movement. “The most exciting part of this show is Chiharu and Emma,” Nissassa says. The artists’ world has been fully realised through the collaboration and performance of cellist Emma Maguire and dancer Chiharu Valentino. Within the space, Chiharu physically interacts with the sculptures, learning and familiarizing through the movements of her own body. In turn, Emma responds to Chiharu’s movements, in an improvised, sporadic exploration of cello harmonics and textures. The conversational dance between sound, movement and sculpture is bewitching. The intensity of improvisation is both uncomfortable and unbearably beautiful. It’s one of those rare moments where you can actually see the music.

As Nissassa says, “it’s not just movement, just sound, just sculpture; they’re all working together to create this entity, this space.”

This entity hums with something akin to conscious awareness. It lures you in, willing you to let your guard down. The deep, hypnotic resonance of the cello leaves one feeling disarmed and lethargic. Chiharu’s movements are profound and primordial; a sacred, spell-binding dance. The audience are transported into a trance-like state, where inhibitions down, their minds can open to Peta and Nissassa’s world of absurdly conscious creatures. “Since we’re personifying objects, it just made sense to have actual interactions with the objects,” Peta says. “You can’t really give them life by just staring at them.”

Photograph by Mae Hartrick

Watching Chiharu navigate the room through curious movement breaks down the passive viewing experience that we’ve become accustomed to in a gallery space. The playful intimacy that she shares with the objects breathes life into their inanimate forms. They need to be rubbed on, whispered to, caressed. As a performer, Chiharu opens new ways for the audience to interact and exist in the gallery space. It is a provocative reminder to return and listen to the sensory experience of our own bodies. 

All of us are wrapped up in people skin. Our bodies are the fundamental basis of our experience and, try as we might to transcend their earthly limitations, we are bound to them for life. In their work, Nissassa and Peta continually draw from experiences within their own bodies, and how it feels to intentionally objectify oneself in the context of art. In contrast to the personification of inanimate objects, human bodies are objectified, often without one’s permission. The exhibition allows both artists’ to not only permit objectification but direct it in a manner of their choosing. 

In the front room of the gallery, Nissassa hangs a large, silver-breasted puppet. She wobbles, suspended pendulum-like, with heavy, clanky limbs. She consumes the room with her proportions and yet, she is also vulnerable and exposed. Attached to her limbs are long rods that the artists and audience use to control her. In order to manipulate her, the audience are forced to move closer; underneath and around her.

“I like the idea of people being a little uncomfortable to be manipulating her, to be objectifying her,” says Nissassa. “Everyone’s looking at you while you do it, it’s like everyone looking at you while you cat-call someone.” In exposing and forcing this perspective of objectification, the artists subvert and diminish it. “I want people to be somewhat uncomfortable, but maybe find a comfortability in it as well.” 

Beneath the sophisticated, conceptual world of objects is a clear call to playfulness and curious, child-like exploration. “We make by playing, so we want our audience to experience it and consume it through play,” says Peta. This playfulness is a direct rejection of the rigidity they encountered at art school. Both artists found themselves frustrated by the seriousness, and consequent reductivity in their practices. Every idea had to be condensed and deconstructed until it barely resembled its initial self. Moreover, the individualised and competitive mindset at school limited the opportunities of collaboration that both artists found so valuable. When asked about the future of the project, Nissassa says “we are hoping to create a community around multi-disciplines and practices, because you’re not getting it at uni.”

“We want to give people a chance to say, ‘I’ve got this idea, who can help me with it?’”

The artists have just found their own space, where they are hoping to hold meetings and events; “artist potluck and multi-disciplinary cross-pollination.” The conversations between Peta, Nissassa, Emma and Chiharu have only just begun, and they plan to continue their work together into the future. The concepts explored in ‘I Object’ also lend themselves to continuation and development, so there is hopefully much, much more to come.