In the artistry of Zoë Croggon, a Melbourne-based artist, revelations unfold in a dance of nuanced cues. Her work is a testament to her keen grasp of the kinetic body, where figures float, curve, and drape in an elegant, enigmatic choreography. Central to her practice are the formal intricacies of collage, refined to its essence—each cut and sculptural fold bearing decisive weight. Yet beneath the surface, Croggon’s meticulous excavation of archival treasures emerges, weaving together threads from art, performance, and architectural history with deliberate care.

In recent years, drawing has enriched her repertoire, with raw cuts and dynamic strokes etching narratives onto various surfaces. However, anchoring her work with quiet significance is its literary resonance. Croggon acknowledges a lifelong immersion in books and reading, framing her artistic output as an aftermath of literary engagement.

Presenting a retrospective of her work spanning eight years, Croggon’s latest artist’s book, How to Cut an Orange embraces the written word more deeply than ever. Featuring an incisive abstract essay by esteemed poet Samantha Abdy and a selection of poems by Croggon’s mother, Alison Croggon—a distinguished cultural critic and author—the book fosters a dialogue where Croggon’s sensual photographic collages resonate alongside the words that envelop them.

For Croggon, whose practice melds profound research with introspection, her art also serves as a gaze outward. As Abdy articulates, it is about inhabiting and observing the world, navigating the complexities of existence and corporeality with keen sensitivity.