• Dean Cross, A Dog; a dog, 2022, pure pigment print on poly-cotton canvas, 164 x 111 cm
  • Dean Cross, And You may find Yourself living in an Age of Mass Extinction, 2022, pure pigment on Canson Platine 310gsm, 120 x 90 cm, edition of 5 + 2AP
  • Dean Cross, (gloryhole) Black Face/White Dick, 2022, synthetic polymer, image transfer, oil and glassine on poly-cotton canvas, 164 x 222 cm (diptych)
  • Dean Cross, 60 Beers between Brisbane and Bali, 2021, synthetic polymer, found photographs, pure pigment print on canvas with Yellow trace paper, 40 x 50 cm
  • Dean Cross, Discontinued (FIRE), 2015, framed extinct fuji film 3000b, 8 x 10.5 cm (artwork), 40 x 50 cm (framed), unique
  • Dean Cross, Discontinued (HORSE), 2015, framed extinct fuji film 3000b, 8 x 10.5 cm (artwork), 40 x 50 cm (framed), unique
  • Dean Cross, Pox Painting #2 (1312), 2022, Rhodamine B, ink, synthetic polymer, and line marking aerosol on poly-cotton canvas, 164 x 222 cm (diptych)
  • Dean Cross, Caliban, 2021, aluminium, steel, plastic, ink and rope, 160 x 30 x 30 cm
  • Dean Cross, SKIN, 2020-2022, oil, synthetic polymer and aerosol on wood, 120 x 130 cm (10 panels)
  • Dean Cross, Ngunnawal Country, Eden-Monaro, Yass Valley Shire (landscape painting/painting landscape), 2022, image transfer, gesso, line marking aerosol with tracing paper on poly-cotton canvas, 164 x 222 cm

Dean Cross

Death, Disease, and Fucking Racists

31 Mar - 23 Apr 2022

Dean Cross doesn’t idle on medium, rather his days seem longer than twenty four hours and they are spent on ideas. In a one hour conversation in his studio we talk about the death of painting, the circle, electric fencing, collage, Country, place. I find our conversations rhythmic, but each time we change topic the fence post gets a little further away and we’re running quicker to find the edge of it (and to find out if it is indeed, electric).

This new body of work was seeded from Cross’s archive of photography, text experiments and memories. When one comes to weigh him down too much it is ready to become a work. They hang across three walls of the gallery, waving us in to places we may not want to consider. The images are personal; the places are important to him, the words are heavy and the people…the people. It wasn’t the easiest task to narrow the title of the exhibition down to just five words but maybe selecting ‘fucking racists’ for two of them was.

Cross’s works are coded and a little dark, you might find you catch yourself if you find the humour in them. I have learned to listen to Cross’s work, not just look. Our discussions have lead me to believe that the circle is in fact a dangerous thing. There is no end to the edge of a circle, it is perfect, it is a problem. It is this becoming riddle that Cross likes to play with. He transfers photographs on to canvas, tiles ten parts of an image in to one work and some have two horizon lines, not just one. In this, his second solo exhibition at Yavuz Gallery, he fucks with what you can see, when and how. Funny (in the way he uses the word) where humanity has found itself today.

Death, Disease and Fucking Racists sees Cross expand his treatment of painting as he turns ever more towards dangerous things. He experiments with surface and opacity to speak to the abhorrent past and the shaky present.

– Gina Mobayed