The Everyday Magic of Brian Robinson: A Multiverse of Stories and Stars
There’s something profoundly captivating about artists who can weave the mundane into the extraordinary. Brian Robinson, a Torres Strait Islander artist with a kaleidoscope of cultural influences, does exactly that. His latest exhibition, Multiverse at Newcastle Art Gallery, isn’t just a showcase of his work—it’s a portal into a world where Indigenous storytelling, biblical narratives, and pop culture collide. Personally, I think what makes Robinson’s art so compelling is his ability to layer these diverse traditions without losing the essence of any one of them. It’s like watching a master chef blend flavors—you can taste each ingredient, yet the dish is entirely its own.
One thing that immediately stands out is Robinson’s connection to the cosmos. Every night, as he walks to his studio in Cairns, he looks up at the stars. This isn’t just a romantic detail; it’s the foundation of his art. From my perspective, this obsession with the stars isn’t just about aesthetics—it’s a deeply cultural act. The Torres Strait Islanders have long relied on the stars for navigation and seasonal markers. Robinson’s work, like his animation Zugubal, brings this ancient knowledge into the modern world, reminding us that the stars aren’t just distant lights; they’re storytellers, calendars, and guides.
What many people don’t realize is how Robinson’s art transcends mediums. He’s equally at home designing a medallion for the Prime Minister’s Prize as he is creating towering public sculptures like Woven Fish. This versatility is rare, and it speaks to his ability to adapt his vision to any scale. In my opinion, this is where Robinson’s genius lies—he’s not just a storyteller; he’s a translator, taking complex ideas and making them accessible, whether through a tiny print or a six-metre steel sculpture.
The Magic in the Everyday
Robinson’s piece Abracadabra is a perfect example of his ability to find magic in the ordinary. Created during a residency at the University of Newcastle, the vinylcut print is a cabinet of wonders, filled with objects that range from traditional Torres Strait charms to Harry Potter’s wand. What this really suggests is that magic isn’t confined to fairy tales—it’s in the light bulb, the turtle shell, the flux capacitor. Robinson’s work challenges us to see the extraordinary in the everyday, a lesson that feels particularly relevant in our hyper-connected, yet often disconnected, world.
A detail that I find especially interesting is Robinson’s use of black space in his prints. As Newcastle Art Gallery director Lauretta Morton points out, this isn’t just a technical choice—it’s a masterclass in composition. The black areas aren’t voids; they’re pauses, moments for the eye to rest before diving back into the intricate patterns. If you take a step back and think about it, this is a metaphor for life itself—the balance between chaos and calm, movement and stillness.
A Multiverse of Influences
Robinson’s art is a testament to the power of cultural hybridity. His Scottish, Filipino, and Torres Strait Islander heritage, combined with his love for pop culture, creates a unique visual language. What makes this particularly fascinating is how he avoids the trap of cultural appropriation. Instead, he honors each tradition, blending them in a way that feels authentic and respectful. For instance, his use of minaral, the traditional Torres Strait mark-making style, isn’t just decorative—it’s a connection to his ancestors, a way of keeping their stories alive.
This raises a deeper question: What does it mean to be an artist in a globalized world? Robinson’s work suggests that identity isn’t fixed; it’s a multiverse of possibilities. From my perspective, this is one of the most important messages of his art. In a time when cultural boundaries are often rigidly policed, Robinson shows us that it’s possible to embrace multiple identities without losing oneself.
The Future of Robinson’s Multiverse
As I reflect on Robinson’s career, I can’t help but wonder where he’ll go next. His ability to evolve—from his early, disastrous attempts at linocut to his current mastery of printmaking—suggests that he’s far from done. Personally, I’m excited to see how he’ll continue to push boundaries, whether through new mediums or unexplored narratives. One thing is certain: Robinson’s multiverse will keep expanding, inviting us to see the world through his uniquely layered lens.
In conclusion, Brian Robinson’s Multiverse isn’t just an exhibition; it’s an invitation to rethink the way we see art, culture, and even the stars above us. What this really suggests is that magic isn’t something we find—it’s something we create, every day, in the stories we tell and the connections we make. Robinson’s work is a reminder that the ordinary is extraordinary, if only we take the time to look.
Brian Robinson: Multiverse is at Newcastle Art Gallery until August 30. Don’t miss it—it’s a journey through a multiverse that will leave you seeing the world a little differently.
