ONE GOOD TURN
NEW RELEASE – OUT NOW
One Good Turn is the first Mary Leunig book in almost 25 years, bringing one of Australia's most incisive artists and social commentators roaring back to the fore.
In these never-before-seen glorious full-colour drawings, Leunig's focus on politics, family, class, power, violence, trauma, humour, domesticity, labour, and the experience of being a woman in the world is still as deeply relevant as ever.
This book attests to how desperately we still need Mary Leunig - perhaps more now than ever before.
LENGTH: 98 pp.
PUBLICATION DATE: October 2018
Launch of One Good Turn
Sunday 28th October
The Burrow, 83 Brunswick Street, Fitzroy VIC 3065
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mary Leunig was born in Melbourne in 1950, and currently lives and works in regional Victoria. She began studying art at Prahran Institute of Technology, and later Preston Institute of Technology where she completed her studies, majoring in drawing and printmaking. Her previous books include There's No Place like Home (1982), A Piece of Cake (1986), One Big Happy Family (1992), and Black and White and Grey (1993). Her work has featured in such publications as The Age, Meanjin, Nation Review, Heat , AWU Magazine, Time, Penthouse, Der Rabe, and The Meatworkers Journal.
PRAISE FOR ONE GOOD TURN
Dominic Amarena, Sydney Morning Herald/The Age
“Mary, Mary, quite contrary...with her garden of lethal wit. Though camouflaged by charm, Mary’s marvelous work is full of menace.”
“Mary Leunig's drawings offer up an extraordinary (and, occasionally, literal) evisceration of family, power hierarchies and domestic life. This is an artist who plucks at heart strings with one hand and entrails with the other. One Good Turn is brilliant.”
“Lacerating, brilliant and unhinged, Mary Leunig's most recent collection of drawings is as to be expected: uncensored and disturbing. Like her previous collections, One Good Turn is personal and political, her subjects playful and violent, but this time around there is a wry sweetness and a gentle ageing satisfaction in parts, as if Leunig's long-held visceral meditation on the woman's body and all the claims made on it—daughter, worker, mother, and lover—is coming to the end of its mortal coil. There is a sense in Leunig's new and raw work that the older woman is a woman finally unchained, albeit too damaged and twisted to consider herself free, but still, as the cover drawing seems to say, able to lie in the sun like an old cat and enjoy a cup of tea.”
“There are things in this world that call out silently to us. Mary Leunig hands us horse blinkers and encourages us to look. In doing so, these dark elements lose some of their power over us. Mary is a sensitive and caring person, which you can see in her graphic style. But class rage demands a throat, as does alienation, familial frustrations and the unique ways in which the patriarchy melds and shapeshifts with late-stage capitalism. For decades now, Mary has produced jagged and beautiful shapes that most of us wouldn’t dream of sharing. In doing so, she has become a pressure valve for all of us. We are very fortunate.”
“Mary Leunig is one of the coolest person I’ve ever met. Her work is bold and powerful and hilarious and means so much to me. It’s personal. It’s feminist. It’s about life and death and frustration and oppression and through it all, stubborn joy. Buy the book. It slays.”
“These beautiful, gut-punchingly miserable drawings are more bile-ridden and merrily sardonic than anything Mary Leunig’s done before, and that’s a good thing. This darker Leunig sibling has more in common with Frida Kahlo; Mary’s unstitching of society, sex and culture is merciless, her symbolism and humour is at once harrowing and profound, and her skill as an artist is ridiculously unbound.”
“Holy shit, what did I just read!? My eyes! They have been burnt out of my head.”
First Dog on the Moon
“The cuteness of Mary Leunig's drawing style contrasts vividly with the messages in her images. Kangas and kookaburras, cats, dogs and teacups are pictured adorably alongside pictures of men dismembered, and one of herself herself crouching, cowed, in a pile of shit and piss. There's a picture of a woman cleaning in a church, the mop-head is her head and she's wringing out blood. Just. Genius.”
Liza Dezfouli, ArtsHub