
How one sandwich came to hold more than just lunch together.
Sydney artist Consuelo Cavaniglia on colour, illusion, and the surprising number of people it takes to bring public art to life.
Public art and metro stations don't always get mentioned in the same breath. At VicX, we're trying to change that. Commissioning local artists to bring colour, character, and the occasional
double-take into your day. Consuelo Cavaniglia's ‘Depth of Field’ is one of them.
Installed across the concourse and laneway at VicX, the work layers transparent coloured glass and acrylic cut into geometric forms. Depending on where you're standing, it shifts. Move two
steps left and it's a different work entirely. It's the kind of thing that stops you mid-stride, which, in busy commuter thoroughfares, is no small feat.
That's not an accident. Consuelo has spent years working on turning light, material, and perception into objects of fascination and beauty. Bringing that practice into a live metro precinct,
at scale, with real foot traffic, is its own kind of challenge. And it turns out, that's a story worth telling too.
“I enjoy public art when it responds to the space it is located in and also allows for a break, a small reset.”
We sat down with Consuela to talk about the work, her process, and why a project like this is never just one person's doing.
Your work is really about changing how people see, literally. How would you describe your practice to someone who’s never come across it, and what did you want people to feel moving past these ones at VicX?
The intention behind my practice is to investigate how space is seen, perceived, and understood. Across drawing, sculpture, and large-scale installation, I employ disorientating visual strategies that surface the ways we look. So, for example, reflections might merge or disjoin, site-lines could fracture, or slight shades of colour overwhelm the atmosphere of the space. In drawing attention to what ‘colours’ our perception, my work questions how and why we see things in the way that we do.
The VicX installation is made to respond to an environment of movement and change. Displayed in a busy thoroughfare, the installation creates an experience of light + reflection matched to the purpose and energy of the train station. As people move towards their next destinations, perhaps hurriedly or distractedly or with a more measured step, the work offers two modes of engagement, a slow looking or fast looking, complimenting the rhythm of each traveler's unique pace.
When you’re starting something new, what does that early phase look like for you, what are you usually testing or focusing on?
The early phase of my making is weighed pretty heavily on considerations. I look at what has kept my attention in the studio, this could be a particular material, a method of working, or a technique, etc, and reach towards what I have been engaging with that I would like to investigate further, or again. The materials are a major consideration: their durability, quality, and metaphoric potential.
I also think about the experience of the audience. As the moment of exchange is a key element of the work, the site and audience come into consideration, as does the atmosphere and sensation that I would like to inspire in the space.
“The work is formed around the fast movement in the lower level and a sense of brightness and slower engagement in the upper level.”
Walk us through how this one came together, from the first idea to installation?
The work began with a project brief and consideration of the site, which included site visits when the space was not yet fully operational. At the same time, I started to identify elements from recent work that I wanted to continue investigating and from here I started experimenting with drawing, colour, shape, and dimensions. The work came together with the help of 8th Wonder, who assisted with engineering, manufacturing, and installing; and Tom Rowney and Louis Grant from Canberra Glassworks, who contributed the hand-blown glass pieces.
Walk us through how this one came together, from the first idea to installation?
The work began with a project brief and consideration of the site, which included site visits when the space was not yet fully operational. At the same time, I started to identify elements from recent work that I wanted to continue investigating and from here I started experimenting with drawing, colour, shape, and dimensions. The work came together with the help of 8th Wonder, who assisted with engineering, manufacturing, and installing; and Tom Rowney and Louis Grant from Canberra Glassworks, who contributed the hand-blown glass pieces.
Glass, acrylic, mirror, light; it’s a complex mix of materials. What draws you to each of them, and how do they connect to what you’re exploring?
I am quite interested in the original mystery of industrial plate glass as a material that is both transparent and reflective. Glass and mirror are unfixed, there is no consistency in what the material will produce. It changes depending on how the viewer comes into contact with it, whether that is walking past and catching your reflection or standing directly in front and becoming implicated in the object. An honest capture never comes into frame, disillusioned by the material itself as well as the conditions of looking. The properties of these materials are echoed in the questions inspiring my practice, which is what draws me to using glass, acrylic, and mirror in my investigations.
A project like this pulls in a lot of people, engineers, fabricators, glassworkers. What was that side of it like, working with 8th Wonder, Canberra Glassworks and the broader project team?
Working with project teams, manufacturers and other artists is one of my favourite parts of larger projects. Extending beyond my own expertise of making, there is so much to learn from other professionals. Each person contributes a huge amount of knowledge to the project, it’s a total privilege to have access to this level of knowledge. I often work with manufacturers and have always enjoyed this exchange. I will bring an idea to the manufacturers, who usually I have a long-standing working relationship with, and through conversation, we begin to build realistic plans for how the idea can be physically realised into a resolved work. This exchange is often very
interesting for myself and the manufacturers as it allows us to extend beyond our regular skill set.
The installation demanded precision yet also celebrates the imperfections of hand-blown glass. How do you think about balancing technical control with artistic intuition?
My practice is heavily material driven as the exploration of materiality is a key aspect of my works. I will choose a material for its qualities, both the physical and aesthetic value of materials as well as their metaphoric potential. For example, a material that is sharp and fragile like glass can allow you to speak of different things, such as wool felt, which is absorbing, soft and warm. In the work, I chose to offset materials that allow precision, like plate glass and acrylic, with the softness and organic nature of hand-blown glass.
Built-in lighting is new territory for you, how did that change things?
Public art commissions are incredible for giving artists the opportunity to work in ways that extend beyond the scope of the gallery. I worked with the expertise of
professionals outside of the typical gallery model. As the effect I wanted to inspire in ‘Depth of Field’ required inbuilt lighting, the team at 8th Wonder engineered a lighting system that was suitable for the structure and the Victoria Cross Station site.
You were on site for the whole install, hands-on with the placement and lighting. Why does that level of involvement matter to you?
For me, it is integral to be across all the details of a project. In this instance, ‘Depth of Field’ is simple yet quite precise and required keen oversight to ensure it was finished in a way that matched the original design. For example, positioning the elements and handling large glass objects all require art handling skills, especially in the instance of reflective and transparent material which is difficult to handle because it is very fragile, often heavy, and it marks so easily.
Public art in a metro station is a different kind of brief, it’s not a gallery, it’s someone’s Tuesday morning. What did working in that context teach you, and what do you hope people take from it?
I hope that the work can punctuate the functionality of the space with a moment of colour, interest and wonder. I enjoy public art when it responds to the space it is located in and also allows for a break, a small reset. It’s interesting as an artist to be able to work with a range of audiences and also to bring an idea to people’s every day, offering them a unique moment with the space that can only be encountered
on that one level. The work is formed around the fast movement in the lower level and a sense of brightness and slower engagement in the upper level, speaking to the different conditions of the site and its users.






