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There is something delightfully inscrutable in the work of Melbourne artist Rob McHaffie. His humble canvases are strikingly distinctive, revealing an unabashed focus on the figurative and a deliberate avoidance of straightforward narrative. As with much good contemporary work, a familiar paradox is at play: the highly skilled execution of McHaffie's paintings attracts you, yet the banality of his subject matter repels. His works feature perfectly rendered images of everyday objects - unsettling in their clarity and realism - which are then skewed, moulded, displaced and juxtaposed in unlikely relationships. His all-too-human titles, such as I'd rather be no one than someone with no one, 2006, add humour to his intriguing visual repertoire.
 
His work can be (loosely) aligned with that of other young Australian artists who have emerged over the last five years, such as Del Kathryn Barton, Nell, Michelle Ussher, Madeleine Kelly and Dane Lovett among others - artists who shape their two-dimensional surfaces into extraordinary, fantastical scenes, brimming with imaginative power, intricate detail and, often, a great sense of wit. 
 
Before 2006 McHaffie had not received as much attention as his contemporaries but, since graduating from the Victorian College of the Arts, Melbourne, in 2002, he has been quietly and steadily producing work for Darren Knight Gallery in Sydney, and Gertrude Contemporary Art Spaces (where he has a residency) and Spacement, Melbourne. He has also been involved with artist-run spaces in Melbourne including TCB Art Inc., Clubs Project, Kings Artist Run Initiative and Bus Gallery. His hard work has paid off: McHaffie recently exhibited in 'Primavera 2006' at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Sydney, and earlier this year his curious imagery took the international stage at the Armory Show in New York, where he exhibited at the Darren Knight Gallery stall alongside acclaimed artists such as Ricky Swallow, Noel McKenna and James Morrison. 
 
McHaffie's works are almost always executed on a cream or grey canvas background. From this flat surface emerge exquisite depictions of clothing, crumpled paper, plants and disfigured creatures. In Series, 2005 - a group of six oil paintings which, when hung together, spell the word 'series' - McHaffie pokes a small, playful barb at art-world lingo. Such is the artist's painterly skill that a collection of belts shaped to form the first letter 'e' retains the sticky tactility of leather, and the second 'e', represented by a fur stole, is so disturbingly inviting you could almost reach out and stroke it. The most intriguing image in Series, however, is the first painting: a stretched ferret with glossy, golden fur, shaped into the letter 's'.
 
McHaffie's penchant for kitsch and vulgarity, and his quiet parody of popular culture figures such as Marlon Brando, Gary Glitter and Rod Stewart, is particularly apparent in his more recent work, such as I'd rather be no one than someone with no one, 2006, and Your place or mine?, 2005. In these works, the artist has placed seemingly innocuous objects into incongruous assemblages that are at once repulsive and tantalising. On flat planes of canvas, believable objects collide in unbelievable circumstances. In Your place or mine?, for example, McHaffie depicts a dubious-looking pillow-head man. The gape of a pillow case forms a mouth, and placed on top of the pillow are light bulbs for eyes, and what appears to be a deodorant bottle for a nose. To this McHaffie has added an old sports jacket and tartan hat. The total effect is that of a leering geezer. Although the pillow-head's proposition is made slightly more attractive by the inclusion of banal, floating roses in the background, his offer is essentially hopeless and expresses a twofold message: a playful parody of unrequited love, and a darker, less optimistic comment on the state of contemporary life. The same tension is subtly present in Series: you might feel like stroking the ferret, but it will probably bite you.
 
The red-shorts-wearing, disfigured character in McHaffie's I'd rather be no one stands awkwardly, legs splayed, with a small dog between his sneakered feet. Scattered in the background are pot plants, giving no clues as to the figure's predicament. Melbourne writer Liza Vasiliou notes that there is a 'studied randomness' in McHaffie's selection of imagery. This results not in a conclusive understanding of the relationships of the objects, but instead in the realisation that the objects' meanings are slippery and coded.
 
Viewing McHaffie's paintings made me laugh, but also left me with a palpable sense of discomfort and unease - almost anxiety. And perhaps that is what makes his work so attractive: he is an artist who is able to speak to the gut. The limp-wristed, hand-bag-holding individual in the work Everybody's got baggage but nobody's going anywhere, 2006 (which appears on the back cover of this issue), transported me straight back to my experience of airport chaos during the August 2006 security crackdown at London's Heathrow airport. This work perfectly encapsulates those deflated passengers, mutely surrendering their own carry-on baggage in exchange for a clear plastic bag, locked in transit, with nobody going anywhere.
 
 
Rob McHaffie is represented by Darren Knight Gallery, Sydney, and Spacement Gallery, Melbourne.
 
Jesse Stein
 
This article appears in the Summer 2006 issue of Art & Australia.