PHANTOM RESISTANCE by a phantom writer
it was early...
Far too early. I could barely keep my eyes open. Yet here I was at 10AM, in the midst of school holidays, blinded by the light.
Only minutes earlier mum had burst into my room, full of excitement. Last night, under the cover of darkness but shine of the full moon, twelve unique pieces of art were installed around Anglesea. The Phantoms. I had no choice, apparently there was no waiting; the persistence of my mother outweighed my need to sleep. Mustering all the strength I had, I begrudgingly rose from my sweet, relaxing slumber to travel around our town in search for all twelve.
Despite the arrival of Spring, the weather was far from pleasant. Too cold, too windy… too early. I was less than overjoyed to be a first hand witness to such conditions. But, my mums mood (in perfect complement to mine?) made up for the dreary weather. She was beaming - a new adventure; a new challenge. The perfect thing she needed during these holidays! A holiday (aka year, OR TWO!) so disrupted by things out of our control. For her obvious joy, I decided I would endeavour to have fun.
Luckily for us, there was a map with the location for each of the phantoms. There was no need to wander aimlessly around town. We plotted a trail to follow, one that allowed us to see all the phantoms in one journey. One that entailed the car (my idea) and our legs (mum’s idea). Strapping into the car we set off.
Our first phantom was to be found at the top of Messmate track. We found the dark blue crowned Phantom Princess sitting atop a plinth with the morning sun shining on her back. The organic, curved shape of the phantom head contrasted the harsher, sharper lines of the metal that enveloped the phantom and brought a nice harmony to the piece. Alongside the phantom was a QR code that took us to a poem, telling us the story which was her creation.
Next up we visited the Treetop Phantom, nestled as described in amongst the trees at the end of Tenth Avenue. It was delicate: an orange head bustling with colourful wool, leaves and fabric. It was stark in difference to the previous one, but both beautifully unique. Carefree and fragile, it reflected the beauty and ease of a seaside adventure and the dichotomy between the two gave some insight into how different the rest of the twelve could be!
We found the colourful teal and pink Phantom of the Sea with her floating feathers atop one of the pylons atSoapy Rocks. Somewhat a juxtaposition of a delicate structure in such an exposed environment, how this had managed to survive a night of wind and waves I couldn’t say, but I am glad it did. The QR code here led us to a moment of pause via prose, along with an instrumental piece played on the piano.
Up at Loveridge Lookout, we came across The Traveller Soul and the Long Waiting. Hanging from a tree branch, the white phantom was indeed looking out over the water and definitely captured a feeling of longing, or of thinking of people who have been left behind. Scanning the code here lead to a description of the inspiration for the artist, and a link to a beautiful song.
The next leg would be taken on foot, we decided to leave the car here and walk the rest of the phantoms trail. The red Sunrise Phantom - a creature straight from a Lovecraft story with snake-like tentacles tangled and weaved through the gate near Maid Marians, and a watchful eye that looked out across the road to the river beyond inspired conversation. What is this creature and where does it live? Scanning the QR code gave an insight into its creation, an amalgamation of various characteristics based on ancient Goddesses.
Continuing along the Great Ocean Road to cross over the bridge, we passed the pink Frida, Phantom of the Desert outside the Anglesea Art Space with her blue hair housing colourful nesting birds and of course, her characteristic eyebrows. Scanning the QR code here led us to a song from the movie Frida, a movie which I have now added to my list of things to watch.
The next phantom was a little more elusive than the others, but we persevered and found it in the viewing hut near the Anglesea rowing club boathouse (on the other side of the river). The black Phantom Nest was being entertained by two small children, who were enjoying popping up and down inside the shelter. The twinkling lights and woven twine reminded us of the bower bird who collects and enjoys special things for their nest.
After this we found our way to the Edna Bowman reserve. I have not explored this part of Anglesea at all and was pleasantly surprised by this delightful little sanctuary. Following the instructions on the map, we found the bird bath (which is very cool!) and then spied the brown Edna phantom on the tree stump. I found this one quite moving, and scanning the QR code here led us to an inspiring story of resistance that served as influence for the phantom.
We walked to the end of Ramsay Street as the map and directions suggested, and found the yellow Spirit of Thelymitra and Guardian of the Sun Orchids sewn into the tree off the Surf Coast Trail. It was lovely to see the use of gum leaves to create an orchid nestled in the phantoms head. Scanning the QR code here provided us with some amazing detail about local flora.
The next phantom to visit was Persephone. A vibrant green phantom honouring the Greek Goddess of Spring was sitting outside GROW, characterised by an intricate, beautifully designed mask of silver hearts. Her eyes appeared to be candles and I look forward to going back at night time and seeing them glow.
Walking back through town past the library van and river paths around Coogoorah park, we found our way to the trails at the back of the pirate ship playground and looked for the flowering grass trees. One of them is particularly unique with a flower that is growing horizontally and it is near this that we found the red Creative Mind phantom. As a result of the glasses and hair, we immediately thought of the Rocket Man himself; it seems our initial thoughts were the apparent intention as upon scanning the QR code we were led to a video of him performing ‘Your Song’.
Continuing up along the trail and veering to the left (toward Fraser Avenue), we found the green Still Flowers Phantom, with her basket of flowers lying on the ground at the entrance to the walking path (just past the donkey orchids). Scanning the QR code here led us to some insight into the creation of the artwork, and also shared with us a beautiful poem about wildflowers.
With that, our journey was at an end. We enjoyed a walk back to the lookout through the streets with the views over the town of Anglesea along the way; the wind was less of a bother. I must say, my initial reservations towards this adventure may have been undeserved. Whilst I still somewhat regret the ‘early’ start, it was a fun experience to see all the phantoms. And I will reflect on this in years to come, as time well spent.
So thank you, to the Anglesea Phantoms - whoever you may be!
Story of the Dogs - by Phantom Hubby
This morning started like many mornings…
wife leading me by the nose, and heading off for a “it’s good for you” walk. “Man’s best friend” disloyally met me at the door, leash in mouth. Traitor.
Sufficiently encouraged, your significantly under-caffinated correspondent heads out to Roadknight beach this AM. When I was a child, there was a form of story that started, “the birds are signing, the sun is shining and the top is down – nothing can go wrong”. So perhaps I’m overly sensitive when it’s a bit chilly and looking like a storm is brewing. This is Victoria, after all.
We start walking towards Soapy Rocks. About 100 meters down the beach, “Man’s best friend” happily runs off towards a group of Labradors playing. (What exactly is the collective noun for a bunch of happy labs?). Their accompanying humans have gathered near Sea Phantom, set along some pylons on the beach. While the humans have been admiring the art, it seems the labs have also been enjoying the art. One of the labs seems to have pulled down one of the supports (complete with pink clay string) and was playing “who’s got the stick” with several others. At one time, I saw four labs all trying to carry the support. I can imagine Sea Phantom being impacted by the recent winds, but who would have thought happy labs would be art lovers?
A Phantom’s Perspective
I was in the middle of a particularly strange week…
when I received a call from “Phantom Queen”. Not entirely focused on what I was being proposed, my first reaction was that it sounded like fun!
My fragmented memories of our initial conversation were: ……you are invited…..one of 12….can’t tell you who……entirely anonymous event……Anglesea……I’ll supply the heads………full moon…..walking trails…….be as creative as you want……only a couple of days away………small acts of defiance
By the time I had hung up the phone my head was already spinning with ideas and a new sort of freedom and excitement that I was really liking the feel of……
The phantom head arrived on my doorstep, not particularly the way I imagined it. But, my Phantom partner in crime quickly engineered a solution and we were both inspired to create an artwork that would celebrate the two opposing mediums being used. Studio time is always fun, so our ideas converged and our Phantom came into being.
I had no idea WHO, were the other phantoms, WHAT they were creating or WHERE they would be installed, but as history has shown we all created very different pieces, inspired by various backgrounds and installed them in a fabulous array of beautiful hidden spots around Anglesea.
After our full moon installation I rose early and excited on the first day to walk and discover the other secrets. I met a few of the other phantoms and we spoke about how this clandestine project had lifted us out of our various mindsets. Some of us had lockdown fatigue, one was ill, one had considered giving up on art, one was grieving loved ones far away, but this project gave us all the spark we needed and I thank the Phantom Queen for this xxxxx
Not only the phantoms have enjoyed the event, I have had many a conversation with a passing walker or other Anglesea community members down the street. Even people who are tuning in via social media…….a ray of sunshine in my day…….thank you for showing me new places to walk…….we loved finding all the phantoms…….we spent a whole day together as a family………makes me want to create something……..aren’t they all so clever and different………I’ve learnt stuff about Anglesea’s history and native wildlife……..how wonderful to talk about something else!
I am so honored to have been invited into this far reaching community art, health and wellbeing project!
Congratulations to all the phantoms……I hope I get to meet you all one day xxxxxxx
Phantom P
Anglesea Phantoms
Author: Michelle Wright
When Covid 19 took hold of the world in March 2020, I was deep in the final stages of editing my first novel. The book, called Small Acts of Defiance, is not about a pandemic, but it does explore an individual’s lived experience of another world-changing event – World War 2. The story traces five years in the life of a young French-Australian woman, Lucie, as she is forced to leave her secure and familiar life in coastal Victoria and face a new, unknown and frightening life in another world – that of Nazi-occupied Paris. Over the next few years, she is obliged to come to terms with the increasingly difficult circumstances in which she finds herself and must work out new ways of being in this transformed city. She has to learn to navigate the streets, detect hidden dangers, relate to the wary and sometimes threatening people she shares the city with, and devise strategies for protecting herself, her family and those she cares about. In the three years it took me to research and write this novel, I immersed myself in my protagonist’s mind and environment. I came to share some sense of the isolation and fear that she had lived through. So, in some small way, the seclusion and uncertainty of life under the pandemic felt eerily familiar.
Then one cold evening in September this year, deep into the latest Melbourne lockdown, I received a notification of a new follower on my Instagram account. I clicked on the profile - a mysterious-sounding individual who called themselves ‘Anglesea Phantoms.’ When I looked at the online account of this ghostly identity, I saw that they had no friends, had created no posts, and that I was the only person they were following. Just as I was about to trust my instincts and hit ‘block this user’ a message arrived in my inbox. It was from ‘Anglesea Phantoms.’ With some trepidation, I opened it. The first line of the message immediately quelled my lockdown-fuelled mistrust. It read: ‘I am an artist and I loved your book.’
The sender went on to explain that they had read my novel as part of an initiative by a bookshop in Port Fairy which invited local artists to respond to works of literature by Australian authors. After being allocated and reading my novel, this artist had been inspired to imagine their own small act of defiance. Recruiting a group of fifteen local artists, the ‘Anglesea Phantoms’ project would give itself the mission of producing ephemeral pieces of art to be anonymously created and displayed around the local area. The artists would be provided with unfired, fragile clay heads to use as a foundation for the pieces they would then each imagine and create. The next stage of the plan involved the artists sneaking out the following week on the night of the full moon and furtively installing their creations throughout the local area, ‘to leave a trail of phantom spirits’ for people to discover. Their hope was that these chance encounters with whimsical creatures tucked away in the landscape would provide a sense of hope, connection and whimsy for people at a time when many might be feeling isolated, lacking in inspiration or a little down. They asked me if I would be happy to support the project and if I would like to be involved by writing the first social media post to launch the project out into the world. Of course, I was delighted to do so.
In researching and writing my novel, I had reflected deeply on how each of us as individuals, and how we as a society respond to catastrophic and sudden shifts in the direction of our daily lives. In times of crisis, we are changed, both as individuals and as a community; whether we choose to undertake that change or not. When the challenges, dangers and perils of a crisis loom large, when they surround us, when they seem to have no end, it is natural to feel alone, powerless, isolated. When the social and emotional nets we have patiently woven around ourselves begin to fray, when the loosely knotted strings untie, it takes deliberate acts to weave the loose ends back in. These acts need not be large. They just need to be. And when we each feel lured into the comfort of isolation and the desire for self-preservation, each small act of reaching out to others is in itself an act of defiance. And what I’ve observed through studying the history of these actions is that no act of defiance is insignificant, no matter how small or ephemeral. Each small act speaks to others and is heard, and what it says is that we are here, that we are in this together and that we have hope.
The phantom heads created by the anonymous group of artists took on an array of identities. They were warrior-like guardians and goddesses, princesses, traveller souls and treetop-dwellers. They evoked nests, hearts and heads, deserts, sunrise. They sang the Song of the Sea, and worshipped the sun. Some were given names – Frida and Edna. They were woven into the landscape and woven from the landscape. They emerged and merged at once, took form, brought forth patterns. They nurtured, protected and respected the land, air and sea in which they were cradled, placed, perched, crowned and suspended. The materials from which they were created had been gleaned, chosen, found, gathered, assembled. The phantoms took their place in the environment - moving, swaying, capturing wind. They integrated the elements – wind, sand, sea, water, waves, leaves, flowers, earth, rain, sunlight. Like new, surprising fruits and flowers, they emerged, grew, bloomed and ripened. And with time, each of them responded to the elements in their own way - surviving time and tempest, softening, wilting, withering, fading and decaying. These ephemeral beings spoke to the elements; and the elements - the air, the sea, the soil, the rain - all spoke back to them.
As the creations were discovered by Anglesea locals on their walks around town and beyond, photographs began to appear on social media, and those that found them responded with joy, delight and fascination to their presence. People commented, asked questions about their significance, their origin, their meaning. There were no answers given. The phantoms were whatever those who found them decided they would be. And each of them was an individual. Each of them evoked many different responses and interpretations. They were seen as fragile, delicate, fierce. Their identities were interpreted as protective, mythical, mysterious, haunting. They were a delight, a gift, an inspiration, an invitation to stop, to be still and smile. Some were seen as messengers, making small offerings to those who came across them. Some inspired new additions, leading to acts of collaborative creation from many of those who visited their temporary homes. And through the acts of discovery and the sharing of responses to their appearance, a community grew. The shared excitement, the shared sense of defiance, of secrecy, of being a part of something mysterious and stealthy, enigmatic and clandestine wove a web of common experience. But it also created a sense of sharing in a community of caring. It provided a feeling of comfort and reassurance - knowing that others had made the effort to reach out and share their whimsy and their vision at a time when the community needed to feel a little more wonder and joy.
Just as the phantoms had appeared with the full moon, they disappeared with the new moon. They completed the cycle of birth and death, of renewal, of comings and goings. They withered and faded and melted back into the landscape, leaving images and interpretations, questions asked and answers offered, connections made, and strangers who had shared memories and moments in time and space.
The protagonist of my novel used her art to engage in small acts of defiance in Nazi-occupied Paris. By secretly creating, distributing and hiding her drawings throughout the darkened streets of the city, she hoped to build a sense of connection and solidarity among her fellow Parisians, to overcome the isolation and suspicion that she saw growing around her. I am honoured that, eighty years later and during a very different crisis, Lucie’s small acts of defiance inspired this intriguing, generous and caring clandestine art project. I hope that the sharing of these pieces and their discovery in the wild will have helped to weave invisible connections between artists and viewers, cultivated empathy and solidarity, and fostered a shared sense of hope for better days to come.
Publication supported by the Surf Coast Shire Council through the Arts Development Seed Fund.
The Wadawurrung People are the traditional custodians of the land we now call Anglesea. We acknowledge their custodianship, and value the special spiritual and material relationship that they have with the land and water, including the trees, rocks, hills, valleys, creeks, rivers, ocean and hinterland.