Crafting consciousness​​

I visit Kalanjay Dhir’s central Parramatta apartment on a grey and muggy January day out in Dharug country, finding myself a little uncertain of how our meeting will play out. I’ve come to chat about his artistic output, much of which has something of a DIY aesthetic and plays with the idea art isn’t something to be held in institutions for only the elite but rather something that should be in proximity to the everyday world.

The artist has a spirited personality: whether embodying a live-action version of a playable character, like in his three-part video Stream (2021) or battling evil alongside his GUILD bandmates as rapper Uncle Kal, his persona veritably crackles with a heightened sense of play.

I need not have been worried: ​​Kal greets me with smiling eyes, and I soon learn he is easy-going and happy to chat. When I mention I’m apprehensive about how to cover his extensive – and highly varied – body of work, he tells me to feel free to take the interview in whichever direction it wants to go. ​​‘Sometimes I wish I was more enigmatic,’ he says, laughing at the complexities of presenting oneself to the public eye.

After the welcome, I’m put further at ease by the liminal presence of Taju, a vibrant Jim Henson-style alien puppet with pink-purple fur, crafted by Kal in collaboration with his mother, Sri Wiranti Dhir, for his work a perfect storm (2023). Taju watches us from the windowsill with his three large black button eyes as we settle into couches to background sounds of Parramatta construction clattering surreptitiously through the apartment’s windows.

Kal honed his craft as a sculptor at Parramatta Artist Studios (PAS), where he commenced his practice after graduating from university at age 21. He feels lucky for this entry to the Sydney art world and acknowledges the hard work of people who came before him and opened doors for emerging artists like himself.