Kim Anderson is a female artist born in Australia, currently working in Australia.
Kim Anderson image

My work has always primarily been inspired by images of the body, both its exterior surfaces and intricate inner structures. The physical self must surely be considered the starting point for all psychological understanding: it is the vehicle for the emotions, the tangible presence by which we are known to others, and the most immediate tool through which our inner psyche is able to manifest itself and act upon the world.

Often using my own body as subject, my artistic practice has continually involved, in some form, the basic interaction between mind and hand through drawing. Recently, my practice has evolved from the production of more traditional object-based art to working ephemerally with installation. Using techniques such as projection and drawing directly onto the walls and floor, I explore the use of alternative surfaces and spaces. My drawings, which begin on paper in a more conventional manner, serve as the basis for creating installations where the original work becomes transformed by light, scale and the distortions created by using a three-dimensional space as my working surface. For just a short time the work belongs solely to the space it is made in and often, when working physically in that space, it is the process of creation that takes on greater importance than the finished product.

Our bodies are in constant contact with the world around us and I see bodily metaphors evident everywhere – whether by overt reference, inferred likeness, or merely a trace left behind by the imprint of a hand or foot. I strongly believe there is the potential for a physical environment to evoke the same psychological and emotional connotations as a body; it can even begin to take on its own bodily characteristics. By transferring my own drawn images of the body directly onto a space, I attempt to endow it with some sense of being a living, breathing entity. Just as the contours of my own skin become a map of my personal history, so too does the surface of a place, a building, even the landscape itself, function as a kind of skin, a palimpsest bearing the traces and scars of a lifetime of experience. And if a place can have a skin, it could by extension have hands, feet, a heart, a brain, potentially an entire anatomy through which can be expressed a similar degree of emotion as our own physical selves.