Covet by Jill Sutton

Why do you think a group called ‘Networks’ would choose to mount an exhibition called ‘Covet’? 

Are its members all longing to have houses like their neighbours or even lusting after their neighbours’ partners? My only experience of the word ‘covet’ comes from the Ten Commandments which I learned as a child. At that time I knew it was a bad thing to ‘covet’ but I didn’t know about jealousy or lust. These days I am deeply familiar with the potential of these powerful emotions but have rarely revisited the word ‘covet’ when recalling their role in my story.

With many of us only connecting the word with ancient Hebrew scriptures, perhaps ‘Networks’ is seeking to stir something archaic, even elemental. Perhaps it is urging us to explore that deep internal longing for things we should not have. But why would they do this? 

All we can do is to hazard a guess, but sometimes it is a luxury to be allowed to guess. So let’s take up the challenge and think a little more about a group of artists who have called themselves ‘Networks’. It’s easy to see how such a title might appeal to the international group of fibre artists which it has attracted. The very basis of their work must be their delight in the capacity of their sinuous materials to make links between otherwise separated points. A ‘network’ must often be the outcome of the work of a fibre artist and indeed I recall a beautiful piece by Nancy Tingey which comprised what looked like a big fishing net. Nancy was one of the group’s original members and that piece made me glad because I too have loved such nets. Having being partnered by a woman with deep connections to Castellorizo, a Greek fishing island, I learned of the islanders’ dependence on nets and their care. Fishing nets in the sun are one of my lasting memories of a visit to that island. Their intricate patterns suggest a timeless poetry and a resilience which is both cleansing and reassuring. 

But networks are, when you start to think about them, ubiquitous. They have been evoked to describe neurological systems, transport systems, electrical systems, social systems and even solar systems. And that’s it, isn’t it? They describe the way the parts of a whole can connect or interact… they hold the whole show together, whatever the system! 

And this is where the idea of ‘covet’ is a clever challenge to an organisation called ‘Networks’, because, if you covet something, a neighbour’s house or partner or even just an extra chocolate which doesn’t belong to you, you threaten the system! You reach outside the network. You might even break its delicate structure. 

Nevertheless, I still find the act of coveting to be inevitably part of our emotional lives, and I think that it is healthy and stimulating to think about where our coveting takes us. This is what Networks’ ‘Covet’ exhibition does. Artists suggest to us how they dream of lives not their own, how they long for something they can recall having seen through a flywire screen, across a large ocean, a better life for poor refugees, a more secure religious belief… and so the list goes on. 

Recently, after a visit to Coogee beach, I was moved to become aware of my own longings… I wrote:

Like honey on a sore throat
Waves are soothing the rocks of Coogee
Letting go to gather strength
They sigh and lunge
With our longings for the world. 

I suspect that we cannot be totally described by our networks. Our longings give shading and depth to the landscapes we work in. I am glad ‘Networks’ decided to explore their impulses to covet in this exhibition.
Jill Sutton, 2016