Recital 2018

Editor: Right now, we’re looking at Zoe Hawk’s "Recital," from 2018, rendered in acrylic on canvas. What strikes me is how this painting exists in such an oddly dreamlike state. These girls, some wearing what looks like flower costumes, are caught between performing and just…being. What do you see when you look at it? Curator: Ah, yes. A beautifully unsettling tableau! For me, Hawk's work always dances on this fascinating edge between innocence and something far more complex, even sinister. It's the almost too-perfect symmetry, the slightly vacant expressions, the stilted poses. Think about childhood performances – the pressure, the awkwardness, the forced smiles. I feel the performative aspect of being a girl pushed to its limit here. Do you feel the unease I sense, that unsettling tension humming beneath the surface? Editor: Definitely, there's a quiet tension that gives me pause. It feels like something is just about to unravel, maybe the stage backdrop, maybe one of the performers. And the costumes…those flower heads! It’s almost too idyllic, to the point of being eerie. Curator: Exactly! And those oversized flower heads almost obscure the individuals. They become part of a larger, slightly disturbing bouquet, don’t they? This blurring of individuality within a group is a key theme Hawk often explores. It makes you wonder about identity, performance, and the hidden narratives of girlhood, doesn't it? Perhaps those are not costumes at all, but more like living accessories... Editor: It really does. I had initially seen a sense of innocence in the image, but I appreciate understanding it on this deeper level, because it feels so uncanny. I have so many questions. Curator: Me too! Art that sparks questions, even discomfort, often resonates the loudest and longest. It gets under your skin. That’s Hawk’s magic, isn’t it? To make you question what you think you know about seemingly simple, idyllic imagery.