Catalogue essay by Kate Mcauley, 2025
For a long time, Karlee Rawkins shied away from painting Australian wildlife. The artist considered our native animals too cliched and overly commercialised and instead took her inspiration from other avenues, including European folklore and mythology, where she felt she had free reign. It was during a recent encounter with the dingoes on K’Gari (Fraser Island), however, that Rawkins finally began entertaining the idea of a body of work dedicated to the wildlife of her homeland.
Often misunderstood as wild dogs in need of control by the broader public and the authorities, while remaining a species of cultural significance by the indigenous population, for Rawkins the dingo became the embodiment of the themes she wanted to explore for this exhibition, including vulnerability and resilience as well as cultural values across disparate social groups and their subsequent relationship to nature.
It also wasn’t until a local First Nations friend asked Rawkins “When are you going to paint a Dungirr (koala)? I’m waiting for you to paint one!,” that she was able to fully embrace the challenge. The sentiment acted as a kind of permission to go all in on the Australian fauna, and led to the creation of a full suite of works.
Entitled, True Blue, which is itself a cheeky nod to John Williamson’s much beloved, yet some would say problematic 1982 hit folk song of the same name. Not only is the tune relevant to Rawkin’s rural Queensland upbringing, but it has itself become a cliche, while also engendering feelings of authenticity and connection.
It is with these complexities in mind that Rawkins expertly approached this series. Often taking inspiration from vintage illustrations and pictorial encyclopedias, where birds and marsupials appear awkward, as if frozen in taxidermy, Rawkins reintroduces them to the landscape.
Her intuitive painting style, guided by a studied understanding of form and anatomy, transforms these creatures into enigmatic presences. She captures just enough detail to distinguish a dingo from a dog, for instance, but dissolves her creatures into their surroundings, blending fur and plumage into riverbeds and sky.
This fusion of animal and environment is central. Rawkins’ sensitivity—to her inner world, her family, and the broader environment—imbues every piece. Her paintings are as much about her creative process and her mental state as they are about the animals themselves.
In works like Balancing Act, she portrays three parrots inspired by an illustration from ‘Birds and Animals of Australia’. The birds, which also serve as metaphors for her three noisy, colourful sons, sway and bob across the canvas, embodying her quest for equilibrium in life and art. Elsewhere, in Creek Crossing, a stoic emu strides forward, symbolising life’s hurdles, while Focus captures an owl as an allegory for the challenges of maintaining concentration in a world full of noise and distraction.
Rawkins’ paintings celebrate difference and vulnerability. By pushing the boundaries of representation to the edge of abstraction, she invites viewers to engage with uncertainty and complexity. Her use of texture, colour, and pattern suggests that beauty lies in ambiguity.
With True Blue, Rawkins has turned a once-intimidating subject into a profound exploration of identity, environment, and connection. Her work challenges us to see beyond clichés, to find meaning in the interplay between vulnerability and strength, and to celebrate the intertwined nature of all life.
