These days, you’re an internationally exhibited and celebrated artist. How do you live off your art? Don’t have any kids, don’t have a car, don’t have a mortgage. I’ve always managed to find cheap places to live. Even in inner-city Brisbane, I’ve never paid more than a hundred dollars a week [in rent]. I don’t really buy new clothes. I’m a bit eco-friendly, I guess.
In the many decades of Australia’s participation at the Venice Biennale, only Tracey Moffatt – in 2017 – has exhibited solo as a First Nations artist before now. What’s it like being the second? It’s a great privilege and honour to represent Australia on the international stage. I appreciate it very much – and the money’s good.
How much money is it? [Smiles] A hundred thousand. Plus airfare and accommodation.
BODIES
You were often the only Aboriginal kid in your entire school. How did that feel? The racial slurs made you feel a lot darker than you were. I just felt dirty and black. I felt as if I looked really dark – when I probably didn’t – and that it was a bad thing. There were a couple of other Aboriginal kids that came and went in the school, but I was the only one in my class each year. No Indigenous history in school. It was all colonialist-settler virtues of mining and agriculture.
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Did you feel attractive in your teen years? No, I just felt stupid, dirty and ugly. The big feeling was not being really there; I wanted to be invisible. Didn’t talk out loud, didn’t play any sports or involve myself in any activities. There was no support from anyone – not even my parents, really. So I kind of have body dysmorphia; I don’t really like looking at images of myself.
How do you feel about your body now? Are you more confident? A lot more than I used to be. The big difference was coming to a city and having female students come up to me and say, “I really like your tan.” I thought, “Are you taking the piss? Is this some racist joke?” But no, they actually did like it. At university [Moore studied visual arts at Queensland University of Technology], you just met so many different people: a Saudi Arabian girl; single mums; someone just out of jail; someone who used to be a junkie; gay people. So it was like, “Wow. All these different people.”
When do you feel most comfortable in your skin? When I’m alone, reading something or watching a film. And I like travelling, but alone.
When do you feel least comfortable? Public speaking.
Which superpower do you wish you had? Do you still wish that you could be invisible? No, I don’t really feel like that so much.
Well, given your status as an artist nowadays, you’re super visible. How do you feel about that? There’s a bit of vulnerability. But I’m also pretty proud of myself.
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