In Conversation: Reko Rennie
A punk, a rebel and a connoisseur, artist Reko Rennie discusses the power of perspective, expression of identity and why he thrashed a Rolls-Royce Corniche on Country.
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A punk, a rebel and a connoisseur, artist Reko Rennie discusses the power of perspective, expression of identity and why he thrashed a Rolls-Royce Corniche on Country.
While the contemporary art world may not be lacking in rebellion, intellect and chutzpah, few artists can lay claim to the centre of a Venn diagram merging all.
Reko Rennie is such a man. Except that this Kamilaroi/Gamilaraay/Gamilaroi artist also manages to throw cool, beauty and an unforgettable, haunting precision into the frame as well.
Rennie’s geometric patterns, abstract camouflage, words of remembrance, fierce warriors and neon designs inherited from his grandmother have found acclaim and achieved rightful cut through – beamed across the Sydney Opera House’s sails, laid on a basketball court in Melbourne, hung in the sky in Sydney, flanking the starting line (and Daniel Ricciardo’s helmet) at the Melbourne Grand Prix and found in almost every state gallery collection in the country.
With a diverse output that explores his identity as an Aboriginal man, dismantles and questions the status quo and shines a bright light on Australia’s dark history for future betterment, Rennie is carving his neon-hued mark on culture with a razor-sharp edge.
You grew up in the inner-west Melbourne suburb of Footscray in the ’70s and ’80s, at a time when a lot of activism was taking place —unionism, Aboriginal land rights, feminism and significant political change. How did this steer you towards being an artist?
I got into art by doing graffiti. That was my thing; I got great joy out of writing my name in places illegally. Footscray was a very working-class, multicultural community, and a bunch of us didn’t have much. You saw how others were treated by law and police, and I always had a bit of a strained relationship with their attitudes towards me, as a young Aboriginal kid. All those things make you question the system.
What also resonated with me was the political art movement of the time that was responding to everything going on and it was crudely being illustrated with a can of paint and a brush. I started seeing a lot of that around Melbourne and thought, ‘How cool is it that people are writing shit on the walls, writing comments and statements? I want to do that.’It gave me all these early skills in navigating how to express myself. Those were fundamentally important aspects of childhood and rebelling against the system; skills and experiences that I could then combine with my identity and my family’s narrative and use as fire to create a political and visual artistic language.
It makes sense considering much of your work today relates to memory, identity and remembrance of who came before, not unlike how graffiti can say, ‘I was here, and you can’t take that away from me’.
That’s right — remember me. Remember the history of this country. We’re a multicultural, multifaceted, unique community of various language groups and artistic practices representing the oldest continuing living culture in the world. Our identity has been dumbed down so much by Western European ideologies, but all that’s changing. Our generation is now seeing all these beautifully vocal and empowered communities speak out because there’s so much to unpack here in this country. That’s why it’s important to acknowledge the past and present, move into the future, and be empowered to do so.
Is it hard to walk the line of communicating the ancient importance of Aboriginal culture and history with that of what it means to be an Aboriginal man in today’s society?
It can be problematic. But you realise you’re contributing to something much bigger, a message that can raise awareness, inform through art, or share a particular message, and there’s beauty in that. I was once a journalist and I thought I’d be able to empower and change how Aboriginal people were portrayed in mass media; obviously so naive and powerless in that mainstream media world. But through art I’ve had this amazing voice where I could share work, opinions, and expressions of form and identity around the world. It’s a really beautiful thing, and it evolves. That’s what drives me.
You’ve risen and risen in the art world. What’s that experience been like?
It’s funny, weirdly, because in this country, it’s tough to break into art. There are so many gatekeepers and so much bullshit nepotism —and it really is a jingoistic kind of nepotism. So that frustrated me. I had a few people say, ‘You can do this, you can’t do that’; ‘You’ve got to do this and not that … when someone tells me I can’t do something or is negative about my work, it fuels me more to prove them wrong.
text installation at Sydney’s Carriageworks; Totemic, also at Station Gallery.
Was there a ‘breakthrough moment’?
I went to Paris and did a residency [at Cite Internationale des Artes in 2009], and for some reason, that legitimised my career as an artist here —it was that thing of, ‘oh, he’s gone to Paris. I had won a couple of awards, held shows, but then, ABC did a story on me over there, and it blew up. In those early days, I couldn’t afford art magazines —I used to go to the NGV, have a coffee, take a little notebook, and go through the magazines and write down all the up-and-coming curators. Using my journalistic research skills, I would send out 40-50 emails a week, and every now and then, I’d get a hit, and get invited to do a project overseas. And I’d pay for it all myself, take out a credit card and invest in myself, and that’s what paid off for me: doing things overseas. What then happened back here, galleries and institutions started to take notice of me. It was pretty interesting.
You’ve got a future residency at the American Academy Rome. How would you describe the international attitude to contemporary Aboriginal art right now?
People are really interested and the work is always well-received. I think when you’re talking about loss of identity, land, culture and language; or persecution of identity and cross-generational trauma, it’s a very relatable story. Because at some point in history, people have had that experience as well. So it’s an unfortunately common narrative around the world, and that’s where we can share a bond and a connection.
The shared global sadness of displacement and memory is increasingly relevant. How do you explore themes like this in your process and work?
Thinking about loss and memory and creating work from that is really multilayered. My video work with the Rolls-Royce [OA_RR, 2017] talks about my grandmother’s experience of being eight years old and taken from her family, made to be a slave, working for rations on a pastoral station where there was systematic abuse by pastoralists. People don’t talk about that. That’s why I made that Rolls work. I was reclaiming that symbol of colonial power, wealth and royalty. Those who drove those cars would have Aboriginal people removed from their families as slaves, and then they’d drive to church on Sunday and be absolved of their sins. And this was systemic in Australia, not just in one geographic location. So going back to an ex-pastoral station, taking a cool, ’73 Rolls-Royce Corniche on Country painted in a geometric camouflage, with line work and symbolism that comes from my family area [Kamilaroi] and which I designed to talk to the fact our people had to conceal who they were, it was a declaration of identity. I was saying, ‘I’m proud of who I am and where I come from and all of those who came before me. It’s my right to show and declare that. I don’t want to blend in.’ So we shot it, did some burnouts, and took all the notions of my misspent youth driving cars in the west and put those skills to work, which I did.
That’s not the only work to feature you in a hotted-up car. 2021’s follow-up Initiation_OA sees you cruising around your old stomping ground in a Holden Monaro, another strong white Australia symbol, albeit with an Aboriginal name. Where’d this love of cars come from?
I’m really attracted to the design aspects of a car and I love classics. At the moment, I only have a three-litre, Australian-delivered Porsche ’77 Targa and a Cayenne GTS, which is my studio car, but I’ve had Alfas, Valiants, Hondas, and lots of different cars, as well as bikes over the years.
I’m actually looking for another thing to paint, maybe a Porsche? But heavy car culture was something I grew up with. There was this whole thing about hotting up cars —old Monaros, Commodore VH SLEs, Alfa Romeos, V8 Interceptors —and a lot of pride and community existed around customising cars. But they were also a symbol of success and aspiration, and there was a weird symbology related to the car too.
Growing up in the west was pretty wild and heavy in trauma from seeing a lot of things, and it was a certain type of person who drove a Monaro. There is a lot of toxic masculinity associated with those cars as well. I wanted to reclaim all that with a pink, sparkly car and go through these urban landscapes, where I was taught a lot of lessons; that was my form of initiation. And yes, I wanted to reclaim the name, too. That’s why I picked it.
On reclaiming space and looking back to your early days as a graffiti artist, how does it feel now to see your work in almost as many public spaces as institutions built on colonial ideals?
It also comes back to growing up doing stuff out on the street—it’s free for everyone to see. A lot of the work I do, at times, goes into a gallery or an institution, and there’s a particular clientele that sees it. I grew up poor, in a working-class environment and many can relate to that. So I want my art to be seen by people from all aspects of society, not just the wealthy. But it’s also important that in a public environment, too, you have the freedom to say and do things with space and form. That’s an important aspect of having a voice. With the projection on the Opera House, they wanted all this nice, easy stuff, and I did a really powerful symbolic statement of the warrior. That didn’t go down too well. Luckily, I had a few people fight for me, and it went ahead as this proud declaration of identity and history. I think public spaces are great for making those statements, and I love to do that. But also, because in the past, our people were denied the opportunity to contribute to wider society, it’s crucial to occupy those spaces, be vocal and be present. I’ve had people say to me, ‘don’t dream so big’, and I just think, ‘why the fuck not? Who are you to stop me?’ We have to be present in all aspects of society because we were denied so much in the past.
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Forget a Bow Tie. Here Are 3 Black-Tie Accessories to Rock Instead
Stylist Tom Stubbs on ditching the bow tie this festive season—and what to wear alternatively.
Black tie, that essential marker of an increasingly rarefied ceremonial style, is inspiring. Nothing coaxes men into upping the sartorial ante quite like reading those words on an invitation. I say amen to raising the bar, but I can’t bear wearing a traditional bow tie—and haven’t done so for over a decade.
Around the turn of the millennium, I was enthusiastically dress-code obedient, but two unstoppable forces put me off: Fashion moved on, and I got old. Where abiding by hallowed traditions once felt exalted, it suddenly began to seem restrictive and stuffy. And while it was extraordinary to be a bow-tied 30-something, in my 40s, the convention made me feel like a pompous, conservative square. Now, menswear has changed so much that bow ties register as pedestrian garb better suited to waiters than to revellers.
Fortunately, there are several black-tie alternatives that excite and inspire me now that I’m well into my 50s—many espoused by stylish guys on the red carpet and innovative designers in London, Paris, Florence, and Milan. And though I might take a bow on nonconformism as I step into my 60s, I still plan to steer clear of the bow tie, that ultimate symbol of gentlemanly customs, for as long as I can. Here’s what I’m replacing it with.
Form and Function
I got excited seeing Lemaire’s slim metallic modernised bolo ties in the house’s fall 2024 show. A favourite of men as varied as Johnny Cash, Bruce Springsteen, and Snoop Dogg, the bolo is perhaps best remembered as the chosen neckwear of John Travolta’s surly hit man, Vincent, in Pulp Fiction. Originally, Native American tribes including the Zuni, Hopi, and Navajo used these accessories used to fasten bandannas with plaited-leather cords. High-end versions double as a bit of jewellery, with silver slides set with turquoise and often engraved with animal motifs, including buffalo skulls and eagles. Contemporary takes abound, but vintage sleuthing can turn up some particularly beguiling options.
Gambling Man
Varying in size, flounce, and attitude, ribbon ties—also called gambler or Kentucky neckties—have long been a legitimate black-tie alternative. Actor Cillian Murphy has worn Saint Laurent’s take to various award shows, looking stand-alone chic and authentically cool. They have a distinct Western energy—Kirk Douglas donned one as Doc Holliday in Gunfight at the O.K. Corral, as did Robert Vaughan in The Magnificent Seven. But they’re as much rock star as they are gunslinger: The late Johnny Thunders of the New York Dolls and Bauhaus front man Peter Murphy (style role models of mine) also wore them with panache. Take a note from the runway and wear them with a pair of boots—cowboy, Chelsea, or with a Cuban heel—to really step away from the standard.
Fit to Be Tied
Getty Images/Courtesy of Lemaire
If you want to give yourself some breathing room, consider scarves and neckerchiefs. This fall, Tom Ford proposed a louche take on evening style, using black, slim-plaited, or delicately sequined scarves whose long tassels provocatively dangle at the hips. For maximum effect, the brand styled them with open satin shirts, recalling rockers Mick Jagger and Rod Stewart. London’s La Bowtique also does beautiful outsize bows. On a smaller scale, the Twilly—a short silk scarf pioneered by Hermès—works in much the same manner. The French maison makes gorgeous options with angled ends for extra verve, whether hanging loose or more discreetly knotted.
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Show Stoppers
The Sydney Harbour Concours d’Elegance—a beauty pageant for priceless classic cars—returns for another instalment at the city’s most intriguing, and unlikeliest, venue.
The logic behind staging a prestige automobile show on an island may, at face value, seem warped—history tells us that cars and water do not play nicely. The rationale twists further when said piece of land is a former shipyard that is, aesthetically, more workhorse ute than classic Ferrari.
Scratch beneath the surface, however, and the decision to plant the Sydney Harbour Concours d’Elegance on Cockatoo Island for the second year running begins to make locational sense: the steel arch of the emblematic bridge acting as photogenic backcloth; the UNESCO World Heritage site’s previous guises as 19th-century penal colony and eminent boat-building facility fleshing the show’s historical bones; the theatre of watching collectors delicately coaxing their four-wheeled artworks off a rusty roll-on/roll-off barge in the islet’s wharf before showtime. (After all, if owning a car in this stratosphere isn’t about projecting drama, then what’s the point?)
Throw in an endless endowment of free Champagne for guests and VIP transport from the mainland via superyacht, and it barely matters that the three-day jamboree is, in the words of founder and curator James Nicholls, “a logistical nightmare”.
“People love the energy, the adventure” says the Anglo-Italian, a broadcaster, writer and photographer whose extensive resume includes various stints as a concours judge across the world. “There’s a great contrast between the luxurious motor cars and the industrial environment. The Turbine Shop [a timeworn, hanger-like space used to display the vehicles] is where ocean-going liners and propellers were built. People interested in cars are also interested in that kind of thing but it’s just a backdrop. Cars are the main focal point.”
The concours d’elegance concept (“concours” means “competition” in French) can be traced back to 17th-century Paris, when aristocrats would flaunt horse-drawn carriages in local parks during summer months. Animals eventually gave way to automobiles, and the gatherings mutated into more organised contests in which these new-fangled contraptions were, in somewhat prescient fashion, judged solely on the appearance. The trend spread throughout European high society, before reaching America in 1950 with an inaugural pageant at Pebble Beach, California—a concours which has since evolved into a behemoth of the species, now billing itself as “the world’s most prestigious car show” and drawing 214 vehicles and spectators in the low five figures at the last annual meeting. Other concours are thriving globally, from spectacles in Lake Como in Italy (the longest running event, launched in 1929) to Udaipur in India. Vanity, it seems, remains in vogue.
Among this storied company, Sydney’s interpretation is playing catch-up. But Nicholls insists the local variant—launched in 2019, having occupied three other citywide locations—has no intention of locking horns with competitors. Not numerically, at least.
“In 2024, we had 500 people over the three days; this year we’ll aim for 750. But we’re never going to become a 20,000-people show,” he says. “We want it to be bespoke and beautiful, so people don’t have to queue for a glass of Champagne. You can talk to the car owners, and everyone feels like a VIP.” The overarching aim is to become a “destination event” on the socialite calendar, on par with the Melbourne Cup or the Australian Grand Prix.
While keen to keep paying visitors guessing, Nicholls offers Robb Report a sneak peek into some of the 44 objets booked to occupy the coarse, exposed-brick viewing hall, ranging from turn-of-the-century rarities to modern-day exotics: a 1905 Eugène Brillié 20/24 HP Coupé Chauffeur, believed to be the only one of its ilk left; a 1955 Porsche Speedster 356 “Pre A”, examples of which are valued in excess of $750,000; a Lamborghini Miura 3400, a model famed for its starring role in the opening sequence to 1969’s The Italian Job movie; a 2021 Audi R8 Spyder, an iteration that is no longer being produced and thus quietly accruing kudos.
Up to seven “classes” will be open, including categories solely for Porsche Speedsters and pre-war Australian coachbuilt cars. Two 1930s Bugattis are slated for appearance, one of which is, as this article is being written, on a boat somewhere, on its way to Australia. A panel of seven judges, led by the first ever female concours head assessor, who also adjudicated in 2024, will select the overall “Best in Show” winner—scored last time out by a 1964 Ferrari 250 LM, a model line with a $24 million price tag attached. And in a progressive play designed to lure the oil-shunning generation, an “electric elegance” section will debut. Nicholls estimates the combined value of all this precious metal at around $80 million.
While it would provoke an illicit thrill to discover that frenzied super-collectors were slyly puncturing rivals’ tyres or keying priceless bodywork—skulduggery has plagued other pageants, from dog show Crufts (canine poisoning) to Miss World (rigging allegations)—the entrants are, in keeping with the show’s refined, English-garden-party profile—a gentlemanly bunch. To a point. “They like meeting up, the community that’s here, but they do get competitive,” says Mark Ussher, the Sydney Harbour Concours d’Elegance managing director, and on-the-ground organiser. “They care about their cars but they’re investors as well as collectors. If they win a concours anywhere around the world it adds value to the car.”
Which makes it doubly important that, surrounded by all that deep Harbour water, everyone remembers to put their handbrake on.
The Sydney Harbour Concours D’Elegance runs from February 28th-March 2nd 2025; sydneyharbourconcours.com.au
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Jannik Sinner Is the First Tennis Player to Take a Luxury Bag Onto Wimbledon’s Centre Court
The 23-year-old Italian flaunted a custom Gucci duffle bag on center court.
Jannik Sinner aced the style game at last year’s Wimbledon Championships.
The Italian tennis star turned up to his match against Juan Manuel Cerundolo with a custom Gucci duffel bag on his shoulder. It marks the first time a designer bag has been carried onto centre court in the history of the prestigious, centuries-old tennis tournament, as reported by Women’s Wear Daily.
The duffel, which Sinner describes as a “timeless classic,” showcases the house’s signature beige and ebony colorway, the iconic GG monogram, and a contrasting green and red web stripe. It also features the athlete’s initials near the straps. Ironically, the rather traditional design has called into question a 150-year tradition.
“For sure this will create a conversation,” Sinner told WWD before defeating Cerundolo in straight sets. “Bringing sport and luxury fashion together in this way is something that’s never been done before and I feel extremely proud to be a part of it. I hope people will love it as much as I do.”
Wimbledon’s dress code is extremely strict: Players have been required to wear white at the event since 1877, with not even off-white or cream permitted on the court. Tennis whites were originally instated as it was believed the ensemble showed less sweat, as reported by Time. The tradition has continued out of respect for the sport’s history and a desire to maintain formality.
The rules are enforced, too: Our own player Nick Kyrgios was allegedly fined $25,000 for rocking red Air Jordan trainers at 2023’s tournament. Interestingly, the decidedly non-white Gucci accessory was reportedly given the all-clear by the powers that be. A spokesperson for Gucci told WWD the house worked with Sinner’s team “for the approvals from the ITF (International Tennis Federation), ATP (Association of Tennis Professionals), and Grand Slams, including Wimbledon, to ensure the bag met the necessary requirements.”
The 23-year-old, who turned pro at age 18, became a Gucci ambassador in 2023 in his first luxury fashion endorsement. “Gucci for me represents Italian excellence around the world, excellence which is rooted in tradition as much as in innovation,” Sinner said. “This is the kind of message I am proud to convey when I represent my country wherever I am in the world.”
The Italian player was capture in action last week during his 1st round men’s singles match against Nicolas Jarry (from Chile) on day two of the Australian Open at Melbourne Park with more Gucci gear. Sinner carried a custom duffle bag crafted by HEAD and designed by Gucci to the men’s singles match on day two of the Australian Open tennis tournament in Melbourne.
Sinner will play Australian Alex de Minaur tomorrow 22 January at the Australian Open.
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Everyone has a favourite hotel—but what if you could create your own? We envision the ultimate place to stay, combining elements of the world’s most noteworthy openings.
Forget fantasy football—what about a heavenly hotel? Imagine you could create one from scratch, cherrypicking the best aspects of the world’s most noteworthy recent openings and reopenings, combined into the perfect, impossible property. That’s what we’ve done, from the best rooftop restaurant for supper to the only beach club where’s it’s truly worth basking in the sun, this is the world’s ultimate hotel. The only thing we can’t arrange: the chance to check in.
FACADE Capella Sydney
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It took seven years to turn this local landmark—the building once housed the departments of education and agriculture—into a luxury hotel. A honey-coloured jewel in a precinct awash with appealing sandstone facades, its crowning glory, literally, is the gleaming, four-storey glass addition that perches atop the structure like an architectural tiara.
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The Surrey, a Corinthia Hotel
New York City
After a full reimagining by Martin Brudnizki and its new operators, Malta-based Corinthia Hotels, this Upper East Side stalwart’s signature suites now include a quartet inspired by Central Park bridges. Mouldings nod to the structures’ architectural details, while hand-painted sketches inside the grandes armoires evoke the Ramble-adjacent Bow Bridge.
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Le Rooftop at Royal Mansour Casablanca
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Relax on the 23rd floor of this Art Deco-inflected skyscraper hotel and you’ll not only enjoy astonishing views over the water and toward the towering Hassan II Mosque, but you’ll also find yourself rubbing elbows with the coolest crowd in the city. Snag a sofa on the terrace before sundown and linger all evening.
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Hole In One
The Citizen Kanebridge VHG Golf Open Returns to The Southern Highlands This February.
The third annual Citizen Kanebridge VHG Golf Open Day is happening again this year at Citizen Kanebridge Lodge in the Southern Highlands on Friday, February 21. Players will tee off from 8 am for a day of unrivalled bucolic hospitality in the spirit of friendly competition.
The Open unites forces with the operators of Mount Broughton in Sutton Forrest to stage the popular day, in which teams of four enter to enjoy 18 holes of unadulterated fun.
Players will meet at the clubhouse, where—golf aside—they will be served breakfast, lunch and liquid refreshments throughout the day before heading back to Citizen Kanebridge Lodge for a special dinner, fun awards ceremony and more drinks.
Located just 10 minutes from the Citizen Kanebridge Lodge in Berrima, the stunning Mount Broughton course gives players—male and female, and ranging from amateur to semi professional—the chance to compete in a golf day with plenty of high-jinks and food along with way.
The event is part of the new offering from Citizen Kanebridge, a private membership club based in Sydney. Citizen Kanebridge allows members to have access to the Robb Report Club(RR1) based in the United States of America, Citizen Kanebridge Lodge in the Southern Highlands of NSW, and The Royal Automobile Club of Australia (RACA) in Circular Quay, Sydney.
Members interested in Golf Open Day, may enquire by reaching out to leanne@citizenkanebridge.com.au. For more information on Golf Open day, you can download the information brochure here.
Love golf? jump to our golf connoisseurship package from the Spring 2024 issue of Robb Report ANZ.
