Amy Henderson, Georgina Jeffries and Sarah Nedovic are three of Australia’s most considered voices across art and design—each bringing a distinct perspective to the way we collect, live with and think about contemporary art.
Sydney Contemporary returned to Carriageworks for its 10th edition, bringing together more than 100 galleries from nine countries across four days. Est Living was proud to be a media sponsor, with publisher Miffy Coady on the ground as fair ambassador.
Terms like limited edition, collectible, and museum quality get used loosely across design and art. What do they actually mean to you, and did anything at the fair shift how you think about that?
Amy Henderson: This is a big question. To me, these terms matter, because they are unregulated. There is no formal body enforcing what limited edition, collectible, or museum quality actually stand for, so the responsibility falls on us to understand what we are looking at and how it is valued. That gap is often filled informally, by galleries with real history and documented provenance. These terms tell us so much more about a piece than purely its financial value. They tell us a special story around editioning, the materials, and the processes behind the works. Limited edition especially, given it is tied to actual production numbers.
When wandering through this year’s fair, what stood out was how much weight these terms place on long-standing galleries, their relationships with artists, their institutional memory, the histories they carry. That infrastructure feels more important than ever as the market shifts. The label was never the point, the substance behind it always was and that substance needs safekeeping.
Georgina Jeffries: I agree that those terms can be used quite loosely, so for me they come down to the integrity and longevity of the work. “Limited edition” implies a genuine sense of scarcity; “collectible” is less about fashion and more about a piece you want to live with and return to; and “museum quality” should speak to the calibre, craftsmanship and significance of the work.
What Sydney Contemporary reinforced for me is that collectability is deeply personal. You can be drawn to something that may not have the obvious credentials, but it stays with you.
Georgina Jeffries and Mike Hewson standing on the Piet Pavers, available through Roslyn Oxley9 Gallery.
Sullivan+Strumpf’s Exhibition at Carriageworks.
Pit Stop Cafe by Mike Hewson at Carriageworks.
Was there a work or presentation at the fair that stopped you in your tracks? What was it about the piece, the material, or the story behind it that held you there?
Amy Henderson: I really enjoyed walking through Roslyn Oxley9 Gallery’s showcase at this year’s fair and the piece that had my attention was Mia Boe’s School night. I am always in awe of the impact and presence of her work. The long-limbed figures and rich coloured landscapes carry real weight, and with this piece specifically, I found myself unsure whether I was looking at a moment in history, an interpretation of one, or something more spiritual altogether. I don’t think the piece wants you to land on just one of those. That uncertainty is what held me there, and it’s what makes the work feel timeless to me.
Georgina Jeffries: I had the pleasure of chatting with artist Mike Hewson about his work, process, inspirations and challenges. I was particularly drawn to his approach to repurposing materials. Taking mundane and discarded objects and giving them new life, purpose and meaning. His ability to see potential in the overlooked really resonated with me. There is something powerful in that transformation: the idea that beauty and value don’t always come from something new, but from looking at what already exists with fresh eyes.
Sarah Nedovic: Seeing Gregory Hodge’s work in person and up close was really amazing. His work appears fluid and effortless but is actually meticulous mark-making, using handmade brushes, combs and sponges to layer the paint. From a distance, the works feel almost textile-like but closer, it is carefully constructed, woven patterns. I loved that tension between process and perception. The work keeps shifting as you move around it.
Piet Pavers by Mike Hewson, on display at his exhibition at Carriageworks.
If you had to describe the sensory or emotional experience of walking through Carriageworks this year, what would that be?
Amy Henderson: There is no doubt it is a sensory experience. Mike Hewson’s work was one of the focal points of the fair this year. His cafe takeover and fountain installation invited people to step into shared, playful spaces, rather than observe from a distance, which feels like a nice way to describe the whole event. There is a lot going on at once, you find your rhythm with it, and can really enjoy everything on offer. It was a test of one’s ability to see, feel and be present all at once.
Georgina Jeffries: Overwhelming in the most wonderful way. There was so much to absorb: the energy, scale and diversity of work, that I returned a second time simply to slow down and take it all in.
Looking back now, what’s the one image, object, or exchange from the fair you keep returning to, and why has it stayed with you?
Amy Henderson: A group of us went to a talk called Then, Now, Next: 10 Years of Sydney Contemporary, hosted by Kym Elphinstone with Dominic Feuchs, Ramesh Mario Nithiyendran, Suzanne Cotter and Tim Etchells. It was a rich discussion, but one idea in particular has stayed with me. That a fair’s real success is not only measured by what happens inside it, but by the curious, engaged audience it brings to a city.
That was exactly our experience, travelling up from Melbourne. The fair gave us a reason to explore Sydney itself, and some of the moments I remember most vividly happened outside Carriageworks — at Heather B. Swann’s The Forests of Symbols at UNSW, and at Brett Whiteley’s Studio.
Sarah Nedovic: I keep returning to a comment Ramesh Mario Nithiyendran made about artists being cultural leaders who can affect change. It stayed with me because it framed art as something active, not simply an object to look at, but a way of challenging fixed ideas, opening conversations and imagining different possibilities.
Brett Whiteley’s Studio, managed by the Art Gallery of New South Wales.
You spend a lot of your time shaping how collectors and audiences come to understand and value art and design through content and storytelling. Did anything at the fair this year change how you think about that role, or about how value gets communicated?
Amy Henderson: This connects back to editioning, materials and process being the real story behind a piece. What matters most to me is doing justice to an artist’s practice and story, and allowing an artist to be recognised for their process and making technique, just as much as the final work. Walking through the fair reminded me how much space there still is for that, even in a space built around the market.
There’s a growing appetite for layering antiques and vintage design into contemporary interiors, something the fair’s talks programme picked up on this year. Has that shifted how you’re sourcing or specifying for your own projects?
Georgina Jeffries: Absolutely. I’ve always been drawn to the tension between old and new, but I think the fair reinforced how important that layering is to creating a home that feels personal and collected rather than overly resolved.
I’m sourcing with a little more curiosity now, and looking for pieces with character, patina and a sense of imperfection that can sit alongside contemporary elements. For me, it’s about balance: allowing an antique or vintage piece to bring warmth, history and personality into a space without feeling too put-together. Those unexpected juxtapositions are often what give an interior its soul.
There’s a real swing back toward handmade, material-led practice happening in art right now, after a stretch dominated by digital work. Did that show up for you at the fair, and how does it sit against your own practice?
Sarah Nedovic: I love that material-led studios and artists are being highlighted more. These practices have always existed; they’re simply being represented and appreciated again. In a world of digital overload, we’re craving a return to touch, texture and the senses, which sits closely with my own practice.
Georgina Jeffries perusing vintage lights.