from Hackney with LOVE: Free

me @ Dark Horse Experiment, Australian's are very trusting with their expensive IT Consumables

I met up with a friend fresh off the boat from London for an evening in Melbourne. Having just arrived in Australia with his boyfriend and contemplating where to call home for the foreseeable future - Melbourne or Sydney. My own decision was a relatively simple analysis - the amount of interesting people I encountered whilst wandering the streets. Which of course was Melbourne, rich in ethnic diversity, fashion identity, musical individuality and pretty trams. However as my companion pointed out (something he wasn't prepared for) was Sydney's WOW factor, skyline, beaches, great weather and a capital city feel. Add to that the thriving magazine and fashion industry Sydney on first inspection was out shining Melbourne!

Sydney folk are very complimentary about Melbourne, they love the food, music and fashion, however the reverse is less generally less favourable with Melburnian's regarding there big brother as brash, in-your-face and money orientated, perhaps a touch of sibling rivalry.

To appreciate what Melbourne has to offer, requires more than a tram ride around the city, it reveals itself to you slowly, work and time are required to fully enjoy the fruits, there are hidden bars, cafe's and parks tucked away in the northern suburbs that offer something different. A bike ride along Merri Creek, will take you to Collingwood City Farm, where you can observe the peacock's fighting it out in the trees. A grey winter is peppered with an impressive array of festivals, comedy, music, film, human rights, or a human rights comedy, music, film, festival.

To fly the relatively impartial flag (I have no loyalty to Melbourne or Sydney at this stage) an adventure to unearth the merits of Melbourne was in order. With that in mind we embarked on a Thursday evening gallery hop, one of the great plus points of Melbourne is the burgeoning art scene both disparate and plentiful, there were eight galleries I knew of with openings that evening - we opted for four in the CBD all within walking/tram jumping distance.

The first, Flinders Lane Gallery, is a slick and rather affectionate money operation, the atmosphere both hospitable and gracious, there is nothing more awful than walking into a fancy gallery and being given the death stare of rejection. Okay you can't afford the art, but you're civilised and educated enough to appreciate it, plus you probably bring the 'credibility' factor up a little. As we drank the complimentary wine (best wine of the evening) and if nibbled on the remaining strawberries from the cheese platter, we engaged in conversation with one of the gallery representatives, the works in the main room had sold out all bar two. William Breen's oil on linen paintings were enticingly nostalgic yet modern depictions of Melbourne. These candid still lives captured the more edgier side of Fitzroy, Collingwood and Northcote in an endearing light and fitted perfectly into any design based environment. I was impressed by the tones and use of shadow and wondered if my home might one day be captured in the same way. The side room was home to industrial sculptures, less accessible, Scott remarked they 'belonged in the lobby of a large corporation', perhaps a mining one? Anyway we were less enthused and headed onwards.

William Breen at Flinders Lane Gallery

We were lucky enough to be shown paintings by William Breen from a previous exhibition.

Up seven floors of the Nicholas Building sits Blindside Gallery, an artist run space, it has the worst and most expensive wine on offer, last time I was there I actually laughed at how bad the wine (and art) was. This time the wine was as bad as I remembered, yet the art had improved slightly, still conceptual, the back room displayed work inspired by an essay written by an Academic who I've witnessed in a pool of vomit one drunken evening. It was a mix up of kryptonite and power lines, perhaps I should get round to reading the essay, however if the paintings by Piers Greville are anything to go by, I'm sensing it will be a tale of pre-apocalyptic meltdown. We gagged our wine down, engaged in pleasantries and moved on.

Piers Greville at Blindside Gallery

Next was a most unfriendly bunch, unhindered by the energies in the room, it was interesting to gauge how different each venue and crowd was. If I could equate the audience to a certain social set, it would be a brief period of severe insecurity when realising art school was about who could out cool each other, not through style but sheer intimidation and pretentious demeanour. The gallery, Daine Singer was cute and hospitable paintings by Sean Bailey were small and abstract in form, colour blocking and without context left me underwhelmed. A respite came in a trip to the toilet, we had to be escorted through the architecture studio upstairs, lots of fancy apples and high ceilings, swish.

Sean Bailey at Diane Singer

Sean Bailey at Diane Singer

Our last stop ended on a high, Dark Horse Experiment gallery home to a solid selection of medium to large scale figurative paintings by Adrian Doyle with decorative abstract fills - a modern day Klimt, the owner dressed in skinny leather tie was masquerading as a waiter, interacting with his clientele and creating an inclusive vibe. We were lead through a door into a large collaborative open studios, with music playing and around each desk were people encouraging you to observe their work, they are hosting a full on party on the 23rd December, so watch this space for details.

Adrian Doyle @ Dark Horse Experiment

Open Studios @ Dark Horse Experiment

Boroughs Henry Wellcome & Co, 1893

Skint and bored we headed into town, to discover a torture chair from the 1700s, truly gruesome, with blades where you sit, rest your feet and arms and along the back, I squirmed as I contemplated how much suffering had occurred on the device. Also on offer Darwin's cane fashioned from ivory complete with a skull head, an oil painting from 1800s portraying birth in all its bloody glory, and numerous other curiosities to enthral, phallic amulets, Florence Nightingales slippers, masturbation inhibitors, all sorts. The Wellcome Collection is essentially a medical collection, yet it's bounty extends far beyond; the exhibition in question was Medicine Man, an avid collector this small selection features some of Henry Wellcome's bibelots acquired over a lifetime (reportedly one million artefacts at the time of his death). Henry made his money from Pharmaceuticals, pioneering the use of tablets; he formed one of the largest private biomedical charities in the world.