Weeds Crack Concrete

“Plants become weeds when they are out of place in agricultural settings, but they also become weeds in other non-natural settings when they disrupt an inherent order. For example, weeds are those plants that get in the way of the programs, agendas, or desires that we project into spatial constructs. Ivy quickly becomes an invasive species when it disrupts the functions of windows or walls.”

— David Giseen, Subnature: Architecture’s Other Environments, p. 150

Stubbornly, weeds crack concrete; they endure from the bottom up, warping the flat order of asphalt pavements, the grid-lines of property. The artists in Pari’s 29th exhibition visualise the ways class, capital and colonialism mediate our views of home, space and people—how power decides who, what, and where is a weed. Some confront the cruelty of this condition, its predation: gambling, policing, aristocratic sensibilities, suburban alienation. Others give us reprieve, honouring the enduring resilience of plants, family, community and tradition against it. We weave together established Western Sydney artists with those still sprouting in our gallery in Parramatta—a place where things are increasingly designated as weeds, being ordered to leave. For weeds cause more trouble when tangled together.