There are a number of possible theoretical entry points to Justene Williams’ new survey show, Once We Were Mudskippers.The first is the mudskipper of the exhibition’s title. I have a confession: I did not know what a mudskipper was. As it turns out, mudskippers are fish that can walk on land, breathe air, and spend much of their time out of the water. With this fact now firmly established, the mudskipper’s ambiguity as a slightly abject, oxygen-breathing fish that walks serves as a powerful visual metaphor that runs through the show.An ageing and slightly decrepit fibreglass boat sporting curious pectoral-like feet? Not a problem. Like the mudskipper, the boat can now lurch across land. Justene Williams, Australia NSW/QLD b.1970. Darwin and the jellyfish lady went to sea, 2026. Courtesy: The artist, Photograph: Chloë Callistemon © QAGOMA “Emotes” drawn from the game Fortnite similarly supported by pectoral appendages? Of course. Giant entry archways riffing off Natalia Goncharova’s costume designs for fantastic sea creatures circa 1916? Very mudskippery. For over two decades, Australian artist Williams has developed a distinctive visual language that mobilises seemingly incompatible reference points: from the historical avant-garde’s set and costume designs, to 1990s grunge DIY, to contemporary suburban vernacular of eskies and yoga mats. Throw some slimy mudskippers into the mix, and it is not such a radical departure.A rag-picker for our ageIf the mudskipper signals a new “character” for Williams, the second theoretical entry point is drawn from the German philosopher Walter Benjamin (1892–1940). Benjamin’s monumental and incomplete The Arcades Project was commenced in 1927 and unfinished at the time he fled Paris, it was a dizzying assortment of notes and fragments. In one famous aphorism, Benjamin wrote, I needn’t say anything. Merely show. […] [T]he rags, the refuse – these I will not inventory but allow, in the only way possible, to come into their own: by making use of them.Benjamin was influenced by French poet and essayist Charles Baudelaire (1821–67), who described the enigmatic figure of the rag-picker in his 1851 essay Wine and Hashish: All that the great city has thrown out, all it has lost, all it has disdained, all it has broken, he catalogues and collects. Williams might be understood as the consummate rag-picker for our age. Equally as comfortable in art’s history as in the suburban shopping centre, Williams will reuse and recycle everyday objects.Yet all is not well in the swamp. Circular mirrors, commonly used to eliminate blind spots in pedestrian areas, proliferate through the show. The mirrors signal Williams’ interest in the pervasiveness of surveillance and the way it insidiously inserts itself into everyday life. Williams’ practice is steeped in appropriation, yet neatly sidesteps the cynicism and irony of postmodernism. Instead, it is infused with an earnestness and honesty that is deeply infectious. Justene Williams, Australia NSW/QLD b.1970, Crystal whisperer, 2026. Courtesy: The artist. Photograph: Chloë Callistemon © QAGOMA Williams has always embraced the utopian aspirations of modernist avant-garde movements, such as the Russian Futurists and the Bauhaus. Early 20th century costume design is an important reference point, and the costumes from her large-scale performance Victory over the Sun are on display. The opera Victory over the Sun was first performed in Saint Petersburg in 1913, with set and costumes designed by Ukrainian-born Kazimir Malevich (1879–1935). In 2016, the Biennale of Sydney commissioned a new version from Williams and the Sydney Chamber Opera. Williams reimagined Malevich’s original Strongman, updating his costume designs with Futurist Strongwomen. Justene Williams / Australia NSW b.1970 / Strong Women 2016 / Plastic, welding helmets, polypropylene, crinkled polyester, gold contact, press studs / Victory over the Sun, 20th Biennale of Sydney, 2016 / Courtesy: Sarah Cottier Gallery. Nostalgia without the melancholyIn keeping with the mudskipper theme, new sculptures are presented in dialogue with Russian Natalia Gonchova’s astonishing under-the-sea costumes designed for the 1916 Ballets Russes ballet Sadko.Williams salvages costumes, props and materials from some of her earlier performances and installations, creating new connections between works produced at different points in her career. Consider the costumes from Williams’ performance A Metal Cry, commissioned for The National 2017: New Australian Art and performed at Carriageworks, Sydney. The distinctive fluorescent pink concertina fan headdresses are now displayed on the floor, adjacent to Crutch Dance, a performance to camera work from 2011. Justene Williams, Australia NSW/QLD b.1970, Fan dancer post-performance costumes, 2017/26. Photograph: Chloë Callistemon © QAGOMA Here, a collection of old televisions sets feature Williams walking on a treadmill in an absurdly Sisyphean action and filmed from an array of different angles. The monitors are curved, distinctly sculptural and a reminder of an era that predated flatscreen televisions. Uniting the installation is a structure resembling an old Hills Hoist, draped with the pink concertina material, akin to washing hanging in a suburban back yard. There is something wonderfully nostalgic at work, but without the smouldering melancholia that is frequently associated with outmoded technology. Alternatively, nostalgia is mobilised by Williams in an affectionate, loving manner. This sentiment is echoed in Spirit box 2024/2026, where a collection of radios appears stacked on shelves. All are tuned to different frequencies, creating a cacophony of analogue sound. As with much of Williams’ work, there are autobiographical references throughout the show. In the video installation Santa was a Psychopomp (2014), Williams inhabits a snow dome. Created in the wake of her father’s death, the work meditates on the passage to the afterlife. Justene Williams, Australia NSW/QLD b.1970. Declension, 2026. Courtesy: The artist. Photograph: Chloë Callistemon © QAGOMA QAGOMA’s curator of contemporary Australian art, Ellie Buttrose, and Williams have previously collaborated, with The Vertigoats’ (2021) appearing in the gallery’s 2022 exhibition Embodied Knowledge. Here, the sleek mannequins are accompanied by new sculptures such as Spirit Strider (Emote sculpture) (2026). Again, juxtapositions abound: the vividly-coloured mannequins with all their associations with retail and consumption confer with their new friends from the swamp. Older sculptural installations are re-energised, this time in conversation with Williams’ mudskipper. Justene Williams: Once We Were Mudskippers is at Queensland Art Gallery until March 7.Chari Larsson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.