Long Dawn 2025, Nanda\Hobbs Gallery, Sydney

How can we see beyond what is visible? To grasp at something intangible, knowing that

it exists somewhere on the periphery, but is never fully within reach? Lottie Consalvo

doesn’t ask us these questions, she dwells in them—urging us to loosen our grip on

certainty and open ourselves to the limitless possibilities that exist beyond our definition

of reality.

Her practice moves between the physical and the internal; the known and the

unknowable. There is a refusal to accept that reality is only what is tangible,

measurable, and seen. Instead, she leads us into the expanse of the mind, where ideas

stretch beyond the constraints of the body and into the vast terrain of imagination and

dreams. If our internal experiences feel more profound than our external ones, how do

we classify what is truly real when we can conjure realities that far surpass our physical

world?

Consalvo’s fascination with the supernatural complicates this boundary even further.

She surrenders herself to unseen forces, embracing the inexplicable moments of

coincidence that punctuate our lives. Those small, fleeting signals suggest something

greater at play. But does understanding require answers, or is the act of searching itself

what brings us closer to truth? Her work suggests that meaning is not something to be

captured, but rather something to be felt; an ongoing dialogue between presence and

absence, knowing and unknowing.

And then there is language—its limits, its failures, and its potential to reach beyond

itself. Consalvo’s use of symbolism does not function as a system of recognition, but by

disrupting what we believe to be certain. These symbols are not meant to be read, but

experienced. By stripping language of its conventional function, she challenges us to

abandon the need to name and categorise. What opens up when we surrender to a

mode of understanding that bypasses logic and speaks directly to the subconscious? In

this space, communication is not a fixed exchange but an intimate collaboration

between artist and viewer.

In Consalvo’s world, the line becomes a measure of the space between where we

stand, and where we dream ourselves to be. Not simply marks on a surface but

coordinates in an infinite search for the unreachable. They call us into her space,

articulating the beautiful impossibility of ever truly arriving—the exquisite tension of

longing without resolution.Nature is not separate from this liminal space. It is, in many ways, the key to accessing

it. In the quiet rhythms of the natural world—the wind moving across water, the hush of

a long dawn—we find a closeness to something beyond ourselves. Yet, as we drift

further from nature, we begin to lose touch with the mystery and spirit that once felt

intrinsic to our very existence. Consalvo suggests that to reconnect with nature is to

reconnect with belief itself—belief in what cannot be measured or perceived. In nature,

as in her work, there is no fixed meaning—only an unfolding, an opening, an invitation

to see beyond.

Her video and performance echoes this call to engage beyond the visible. Often, the

action is implied rather than explicit—demanding the use of our mind’s eye to perceive

what is not physically present. In doing so, she compels us to question the way we

engage with reality itself. What is truly there, and what exists only because we allow

ourselves to see it? It is in this tension—between presence and absence, silence and

expression—that Consalvo’s work reveals its quiet force.

This exploration is not just philosophical; it is also political. To reimagine reality is to

reject the structures that dictate how we live. The relentless pursuit of productivity, the

commodification of time—these are forces that shape our existence in ways we rarely

question. And yet, Consalvo does. She offers us an alternative; to resist materialism in

favor of presence, slowness, and deep attention. Through her personal meditative

practice, she has witnessed her power in stretching even the smallest of moments into

what feels like an eternity. These "slippages" serve as windows into a richer and more

nuanced life than one dictated by the clock. If time can be stretched in a single moment

of reflection, if we can slip between its rigid measurements, then is it really as fixed as

we assume? If creativity itself is a form of resistance, then what does it mean to live a

life untethered from the constraints imposed upon us?

To step into Consalvo’s world is to reconsider everything we take for granted. To stand

at the edge of the void, feeling its weight press against the edges of our perception. She

does not offer answers—perhaps because answers are not the point. Instead, she

extends an invitation: to expand, to question, to see beyond. In the quiet of dawn, the

veil between here and there is at its thinnest—paused at the threshold, as close as they

will ever come to touching.

Anthea Mentzalis

April, 2025