When Mitch Cairns met Agatha Gothe-Snape, he was instantly charmed. Then an absurd exchange shifted their relationship into something more than friendship
T
he first time I saw Agatha, she was saturated, standing in a knee-high bucket wearing a knitted woollen jumper that said Ho Ho Ho on it. Whatever I’d expected to see at the Christmas group show at MOP Projects – an artist-run gallery in Redfern, Sydney – this vision transcended it. As I walked into the hall-like space, it was devoid of any artwork aside from this absolutely beautiful woman standing there with water dripping on to her head.
It was 2007, and I was a graduate of the National Art School. People weren’t making this type of work there, so it’s no exaggeration to say the whole image was completely new and arresting for me. She was silent and stationary but so alive.
Some weeks later, I was back at the same venue and some friends of hers introduced us, suggesting I could advise her on applying to the National Art School. To me, this seemed absurd. It was already clear to me that she was a brilliant artist.
