I was talking to Luke Martins outside a gallery fundraiser a few months ago when he mentioned he was planning an exhibition. I don't remember exactly how it came up but I remember the energy of it, the way he was already somewhere else in his head, already building. We kept talking and he mentioned it needed a name. At some point he also mentioned the show might be illegal and then kept going.
Freestyle was the name of the show and also, it turns out, a pretty accurate description of how Luke operates. It opened on Saturday in a cul-de-sac near Marrickville Metro. It got shut down. That was always part of the point.
You titled the show Freestyle. It's a word that carries a kind of freedom. What were you hoping to give yourself and the artists licence to do?
The freedom to create without stylistic or disciplinary limitation while also making that itself a point to make in the artwork. The title acts as an imaginary name for a new standard of approach. Like if instead of being taught how to paint or sculpt at university, you got taught how to freestyle.
Every show begins with a thought. What was the thought that established this one?
Honestly just the need for a space to exhibit unconventional work. If there's no opportunity, you kind of have to do it yourself. But then comes the desire to express your artistic beliefs and your approach to art-making through the work itself.
No substrates, work straight onto the space. It's a constraint but also liberating. How did the artists receive it?
Everyone was on the same page. White cubes aren't the most challenging of spaces and most of what's shown in them are simply meant to sell anyway. So why not challenge ourselves and see if the work has the same impact as something interesting you stumble across out in the real world. On a walk, or whatever you like to do outside.
What does this particular space hold?
Nothing. It just made sense.
There's something quietly radical about a show that may or may not have permission to exist. How does that uncertainty shape the experience?
There's this question of how long it'll last before it's removed, or cleaned away, or shut down. But the risk and the impermanence, that's part of it.
This feels like a provocation to the local art scene. What are you personally trying to provoke right now? As artists we don't need to wait for a gallery to co-sign us before we can express ourselves the way we want to. Don't wait, just do it yourself. No hold times. There's more to life than a calculated artistic career. Do it and move on. Contrary to popular belief, being signed to a gallery doesn't actually afford you the freedom to express yourself freely. Whether it's explicit or not, there's always this pressure to perform, to sell, to make work that sells, to appease an institutional demographic.
You've said you admire everyone in this show as artists and as people. How does that kind of love shape the trust a show like this requires? We've all known each other for years. Collaborating feels as easy as having a conversation. We have such confidence in each other and in the shared vision that fear doesn't really breed when we work together.
There's a collection of writings and poems attached to the roomsheet. How do words sit alongside the visual work here?
Usually exhibition text is used to explain or describe the concept rather than let the audience deduce their own meaning. There's a gap there. Either the work wasn't strong enough to express the ideas on its own, or the artist doesn't trust the audience to develop their own understanding from the works, titles, materials list and so on. In this show I treated the words like another artwork. To do exactly that: sit alongside
You're making a book after. You're already thinking about the afterlife of something that hasn't happened yet. What do you want it to hold onto?
If it turns out to be a huge fail that won't happen, but if all goes well it'll be another extension of what this project represents. The ability to just... freestyle.
If this show was a song, what would it be and why?
Whatever your favourite song is right now, it's like that. Mine is Posing Tonight by Nine Vicious.
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Freestyle ran for an evening on Saturday, 4 May 2026, in a cul-de-sac near the Marrickville Metro entrance on Victoria Road. It was shut down shortly after opening.
Words by Atia Rahim Photos by Milla Thompson