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Visualising Disrepair: Interview with Brisbane Artist, Zoe Stuart

  • Writer: Sophie Barfod Dye
    Sophie Barfod Dye
  • Jan 16
  • 5 min read

Updated: Jan 18

Zoe Stuart is a talented artist and florist based in Meanjin, Brisbane. On a rainy Thursday morning I sat down in a coffee shop in Bulimba to speak with her about how time and disrepair have inspired her creative approach documenting Brisbane’s iconic homes.


Who are you? (Tell us about yourself)

My name is Zoe, I am an artist and florist. I attended the Queensland Academy of Creative Industries (QACI) where I started my creative journey. After graduating I went to the Queensland College of Art and Design (QCAD) where I majored in Painting. I took some time away and I am now doing that part time because I am also working as a florist, which I love. It’s nice to balance everything a bit.


How did your interest in homes in crisis (flood, disrepair etc.) as a subject for begin?

Initially my inspiration came from an exploration of the concept of time, it was a bit of a spiritual interpretation. Although society sees time as linear, with a start and end, what has been, is now gone and done. When I thought more introspectively about it, it didn’t feel like something that had passed, because things always come back, for me it moves in a different dimension.

At the time a lot of my friends were living in old Queenslander homes, and it got me thinking about how those spaces are so theirs, they are having their little moment in it, but then they move on, and it becomes someone else’s and suddenly they are sharing these spaces. A simple example of this is seeing height markings on a door frame. Seeing these homes get knocked down felt like that period of time was being wiped away. It felt like a destruction of history that was going unrecorded. I was really drawn to the unrecorded side of domestic history, and the throwaway moment, areas of life commonly deemed insignificant. That’s how the houses came into play, it was a straightforward, physical form to communicate ideas around time, and to further explore the various ways we observe and understand our place in it. These homes that are going to be demolished often get left open and it’s been so interesting to see the things that get left behind, to think about who was here. And the stark contrast between an old fashioned kitchen and its entire exterior wall missing. 


‘Disposable’ by Zoe Stuart (2024)
‘Disposable’ by Zoe Stuart (2024)
What is your current domestic environment i.e. where do you currently live? With whom?

I live in my family home in Bulimba. I have two siblings who have moved out but my sister, who lives in Melbourne comes back often. My mum is a real advocate for intergenerational living, she likes that you can have a big space so everyone has their own zones in the home so that people can come and go. I love that we can have all different ages together, I don’t like the idea of separating the older people from the younger people in their family.


What does domesticity (or the notion of home) in uncertain times mean to you? How do you define it (for yourself and others)?

Home to me usually extends beyond the building, but when something significant happens it feels like it shrinks. It feels like when there is a crisis you focus more on that smaller areas in your life and these smaller spaces become more important.


What themes do you see in your representation of domesticity?

I was exploring gender and culture in relation to time and place through my artwork. As the environmental crisis worsens, women’s domestic labour seems to be increasing. We have solar power which you can’t use at night, so suddenly so much of domestic labour is being done during the day, which seems to be an undocumented part of the climate crisis narrative.


How do your works represent and / or depict the intersections of climate vulnerability, domesticity, and gender?

Because a lot of my images are taken from archives and overlayed with my own pictures, I have started to explore my own family history, and it seems like it is always the women (at least in my family) who are documenting things and collecting artifacts and showing an interest in it. When you are looking at these older pictures, they can feel so alienating, but I get to be the alien and bring them into the present. If I’m looking at extended family in the archival documentation, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of charisma or personality, it feels like it hasn’t been documented correctly. It’s the same with women’s labour in the home during these times of crisis, it isn’t documented. It feels like this history has, been written by the victor, so it is incomplete.


‘Old Cleveland Road’ by Zoe Stuart (2024)
‘Old Cleveland Road’ by Zoe Stuart (2024)

How do you see the roles of women in relation to domesticity and the environmental crises?

Another side to this is the woman as the carer. There’s labour in this effort, if it’s buying sustainable food for example, there are all these other elements that make it all so much work. But you have to care now, because you want to care for your future, for future generations and so on.


What do you think the future of ‘home’ will look like in the context of the climate crisis in Brisbane?

What I love about the old Queenslanders is that the feel more practical for where we live, it’s unfortunate that they are so dusty. But I love that these Queenslanders, compared to a lot of more modern homes, is that you get to be really connected with the outdoors. They have awnings over the windows so that you can have them open when it rains. I don’t live in a Queenslander, so I think that’s why I notice them.

I hope that our homes are more environmentally capable, that we stop building homes that flood away. I would like them to be more engaged with the environment.


‘Old Cleveland Road’ by Zoe Stuart (2022)
‘Old Cleveland Road’ by Zoe Stuart (2022)
Can you tell me about your latest or next project/s?

My current work is still exploring houses, but I have started to move into the more natural environment too. It’s really new so I don’t know what I’m doing with it yet, but I am loving that process. It is so noticeable that our domestic environments have evolved over time, you can see so clearly in a picture what time it is from. But when you look at imagery of creeks, full of people swimming, regardless of the time, it seems to stay the same.

I am also working on an artwork that will hopefully end up in the Brisbane Portrait Prize. My sister is a fashion designer who creates zero waste garments. She weaves her own fabric using a loom that is completely zero waste which is amazing, she’s just won a big award for it. Her creations have inspired this painting.


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You can view more of Zoe’s work here.


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This interview has been edited for clarity.

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Climate Interior Design explores the impacts of the climate crisis on homes in Queensland, Australia.

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