Specifiable content often implies a mirroring of established power structures, which leads to a replication rather than a questioning of authoritative coherence. Conversely, the deliberate avoidance of a commanding voice that speaks with conviction on some subject or other can end in a dissipation of a work’s energies. Andrea Fisher has long concerned herself with this problem, making work that is both luscious and spare, and, in doing so, drawing out the congruences and disjunctions between the relations of power and the structures of pleasure in the visual field. For some time there have been

The tacky yet pristine surfaces of Aldo Mondino’s portraits on linoleum lend a squeaky, crisp, culinary look to his images. Less homages to bourgeois domesticity than cunning icons in which the marriage of private and public realms exposes the raw vulnerability of the individual subject, they posess all the humour and savagery of an Isaac Bashevis Singer short story. It is no surprise, then, to find Mondino photographed in front of his spirited painting of a cock fight. Red splashes and pools of viscous oil pigment add a peculiarly corporeal reality to these pictures, subverting the mass-produced