What can we learn about the nature of family from a giant hot-air balloon whale?
By Kathryn James
I am driving down Hoddle Street on a Saturday morning in 2022, trying desperately to focus on the sparse traffic around me while also peering upwards through the windscreen, looking for our quarry.
‘There! There she is,’ I say to my nine-year-old son. I veer across several lanes and pull into an unfamiliar side street in Richmond. We get out and I clutch my son’s hand as we both gaze into the clear-blue autumn sky. Beyond the telephone wires and rooftops floats a whimsical creature, a small dot above us.
‘Isn’t she amazing!’
The hot-air balloon drifting lazily southward across Melbourne is, I suppose, an it, rather than a she. But The Skywhale feels female. Because she is, let’s face it, a huge flying whale with boobs.
The Skywhale is remarkable in both scale and appearance. An elongated balloon, 34 metres long, she has a vaguely whale-like shape and wise, gentle face. Her back is shaded grey, underside pink, and her black tail fans out behind. She was created by sculptor and artist Patricia Piccinini, who was commissioned in 2010 to develop a piece of public art to mark the 2013 centenary of the founding of Canberra.
Piccinini, who spent her childhood in Canberra, is known for her artworks that play with ideas of humanity and animal forms. She creates often bizarre hybrid creatures that combine human, animal and plant characteristics. Given this, it’s perhaps not surprising that she came up with something so vast and unexpected, whimsical yet majestic …
This feature is an excerpt. To read the full article, pick up a copy of our October 2022 print version for free at either the RMIT Student Union in Building 8 on Swanston St or the lobby of Building 94 on Cardigan St.
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