MONA moans

Since gambler and millionaire David Walsh’s eclectic Museum of Old and New Art opened in 2011, MONA has been a reason to travel to Hobart.

“Have you been to MONA?”

“We must go to MONA.”

It’s easy, with three Qantas direct flights a week between Perth and Hobart, on Mondays, Fridays and Sundays. I arrive after just 3½ hours flying.

And now, of course, I must go to MONA.

And I must go on MONA’s ferry, the catamaran Mona Roma, which leaves Brooke Street Pier for the 25-minute trip up the Derwent River. That’s part of the experience.

And, indeed, guests are perched on sheep sculptures, lined along the side of the outside deck, as seats. A white fibreglass cow adds to the moood. (Forgive me the three os.)

Guests are encouraged to take the 99 steps from the dock up to the museum, though a tunnel and lift are available for those who need it.

And so I walk, part of a vast human caterpillar, rising between two cuts in limestone. Perhaps getting the heart rate up helps to awaken the senses, and it certainly adds to the gasps at the top.

Here we are. MONA.

And we have arrived in a citadel of rusted steel panels, soft green lawn, gum trees and large sculptures. My favourite here is the trampoline with both big and tiny bells hung underneath, waiting for a jumper’s vibrations. It is called Danser La Musique, and the work of the late Chinese artist Chen Zhe.

My 9.15am ferry arrives 20 minutes before the museum opens at 10am (time to look around the outdoor sculptures in the sun), and then I walk towards the door with it’s big, distorted, mirrored surround.

Inside, the museum is on three levels, the trick being to start at the bottom (either by lift or spiral stairs) and work your way up.

And so I skip down the stairs to The Void — the aptly named bottom level, and coffee shop. There are other places to eat and drink at MONA, bookable in advance.

And, of course, it’s all in an app called O, which can name and explains artworks as you arrive in an area of the dark museum. It means everyone is walking around in the dark, face-to-phone, trying to work out how to, well, work it out. This is an analogue, real-life exhibition, but the app forces you into the digital world.

What I immediately enjoy is being in the heart of the Berriedale peninsula, in subterranean architecture — great walls of Triassic sandstone.

I also like the work of German artist Julius Popp, who lives and works in Leipzig, and has created bit.code — black and white lines that continually reconfigure using 96 energy chains, stainless steel, motors and custom electronics, a computer and software.

And his bit.fall. From high up, water squirts down, falling in words, the droplets lit like sparklers.

Then, of course, there’s Pierre-Auguste Renoir’s Young Woman Bathing, painted in 1888, and proving that one can delicately display and celebrate the human body without a mounting dog involved.

For, in many other parts of MONA, there are plenty of works that are a bit dark, weird, joyless and pornographic. And, being Walsh’s whimsy, to me MONA has a contrived and egotistical quality. But that’s just me.

And, after all, it’s his museum of old and new art, and I have the ferry ride back to Hobart to look forward to.

fact file

The return ferry trip on the Mona Roma costs $30 each way ($60) for an adult. Museum entry is $39. With the booking fee, it comes to $72.50.

Ferries run at various times, and are pre-booked (though the return time can be adjusted).

You can also drive to MONA.

mona.net.au

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