Same Today as Yesterday Hopefully Not Tomorrow: Tahlia Undarlegt
Past exhibition
Overview
At the heart of Tahlia Undarlegt's practice lies an ancient pulse - the steady,
grounding rhythm of clay as it yields to the hand. Her exhibition Same Today as Yesterday, Hopefully Not Tomorrow gathers a collection of sculptural figures and ceramic chains that appear both primordial and futuristic, as though unearthed from an archaeological site belonging to a civilisation not yet known. These works seem to emerge from a deep collective memory, evoking a time when humanity existed as one undivided species, before language splintered and difference was named.
The title, at once resigned and hopeful, frames the exhibition as a meditation on continuity and change. "I felt it was a light way of alluding to the collective hopelessness a lot of people feel in the world right now," Undarlegt reflects, "but the fact that so many of us feel this way and demand change makes me hopeful for the future." The phrase hopefully not tomorrow becomes a hinge between the inertia of history and the possibility of renewal - an appeal to transformation grounded in remembering what was lost.
Undarlegt's exploration of connection - to self, ancestry, and the wider human story - began with her grandmother's experience as part of the Stolen Generations. In retracing that story and reconnecting with language groups in Western Australia, the artist uncovered a thread of belonging that led her to consider what binds all humans together. Beneath cultural, historical, and psychological separation, she sensed a deep undercurrent of shared humanity.
Clay, in Undarlegt's hands, is more than material; it is memory. It recalls the first gestures of art and record - handprints on cave walls, vessels for water, tablets for script. "The handprint is the perfect work," she says. "It transcends culturally, globally, and brings us back to the first conscious thought of creativity." Her surfaces hum with the residue of countless hands, each fingerprint reaching both backward and forward through time.
Her recurring motif of the chain deepens this meditation on connection and fragility. Traditionally a symbol of bondage or control, the chain here becomes an emblem of strength and empathy - delicate yet heavy, fragile yet enduring. "It's always seen as this dark heavy element," she notes, "but really it's about fragility and connection."
Language threads quietly through the exhibition, intertwining English and Cundeelee Wangka words such as Wati (man), Tjuma (story), and Kaparli (grandmother). These titles acknowledge the artist's process of reconnection while widening the field of human resonance.
Through her sculptures, Undarlegt channels both the sacred and the everyday. Her works do not present answers; they create a space to remember our shared origins and to imagine futures not yet written. They remind us that connection is not an abstract ideal, but a truth embedded in the clay of our being - a quiet call to recognise one another once again as one people.
Undarlegt's exploration of connection - to self, ancestry, and the wider human story - began with her grandmother's experience as part of the Stolen Generations. In retracing that story and reconnecting with language groups in Western Australia, the artist uncovered a thread of belonging that led her to consider what binds all humans together. Beneath cultural, historical, and psychological separation, she sensed a deep undercurrent of shared humanity.
Clay, in Undarlegt's hands, is more than material; it is memory. It recalls the first gestures of art and record - handprints on cave walls, vessels for water, tablets for script. "The handprint is the perfect work," she says. "It transcends culturally, globally, and brings us back to the first conscious thought of creativity." Her surfaces hum with the residue of countless hands, each fingerprint reaching both backward and forward through time.
Her recurring motif of the chain deepens this meditation on connection and fragility. Traditionally a symbol of bondage or control, the chain here becomes an emblem of strength and empathy - delicate yet heavy, fragile yet enduring. "It's always seen as this dark heavy element," she notes, "but really it's about fragility and connection."
Language threads quietly through the exhibition, intertwining English and Cundeelee Wangka words such as Wati (man), Tjuma (story), and Kaparli (grandmother). These titles acknowledge the artist's process of reconnection while widening the field of human resonance.
Through her sculptures, Undarlegt channels both the sacred and the everyday. Her works do not present answers; they create a space to remember our shared origins and to imagine futures not yet written. They remind us that connection is not an abstract ideal, but a truth embedded in the clay of our being - a quiet call to recognise one another once again as one people.
Works
