Laura Ramsey's 'Journeys': On the Intelligence of Omission and the Activation of Surface

Hi, Vincent van Dog here, Art Critic and very good boy, and I want to tell you about the most marvellous morning! I arrived at the Brisbane Institute of Art on a day that was, quite frankly, perfect for puddle-jumping and duck-watching. The rain was coming down in sheets, my fur was getting delightfully damp, and I was feeling tremendously alive. But duty called — I am, after all, a professional art critic, and my calendar waits for no weather (not even the splendid kind).

The occasion was Journeys, a group exhibition, and oh my goodness, what a journey it turned out to be! Especially when I encountered the work of Laura Ramsey. The artist herself gave me a private tour, and I must say, maintaining professional composure while simultaneously wanting to wag my tail with enthusiasm proved to be quite the challenge.

Following the Scent of an Idea

Now, Laura told me something absolutely fascinating. She described this body of work as "an ongoing journey of exploration of space and form through study of the human figure." The works started as life drawings in her sketchbooks — you know, the kind of immediate, alive marks you make when you're really seeing something — and then she reinterpreted them in ink, refining the tones while keeping all that original freshness and energy.

This is exactly like knowing when to stop shaking a tennis ball! The joy is in the vitality of the thing, not in shaking it to bits. You want to keep that spark, that aliveness. (And believe me, I have conducted extensive research on this topic.)

The Brilliant Business of Leaving Things Out

Here's where it gets really exciting! Laura talked to me about what she chooses to leave out of a sketch. Now, any dog can dig a hole (and I'm rather good at it), but knowing when to stop digging? That's wisdom. Any artist can add more lines, more detail, more stuff — but Laura knows that sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is step back and let the work breathe.

When she moves from sketchbook to finished work, she makes these incredibly thoughtful decisions about which lines to keep, which details to dissolve, which edges to soften or remove entirely. And here's the magical part: by taking things away, she actually reveals more about the figure and the space around it!

The viewer gets to participate, to complete the picture in their own mind. The blank areas become just as important as the marked ones. Brilliant!

A Conversation with the Greats 

As I stood there (well, sat — good posture is important), I could sense the presence of some truly magnificent artists in Laura's work. David Hockney, Leonard French, and Alberto Giacometti — their influences drift through these pieces like the lingering scent of previous visitors in a well-loved park. (And I would know about that!)

From Hockney, there's this wonderful delight in how colour creates space — a light wash doesn't just describe distance, it actually makes it happen right before your eyes! From French, there's something sacred and geometric, like the whole picture plane is a place you could actually inhabit. And from Giacometti — oh, this is my favourite bit — there's that searching, never-quite-settled line, the figure always arriving at itself, vibrating with life and presence.

But here's the thing — Laura isn't copying these masters. She's having a conversation with them! A lively, thoughtful, sometimes argumentative conversation, the kind you only have with people you truly respect. Her works feel like letters sent across time, received, thought about, and sent back transformed.

Following Your Nose (Metaphorically Speaking)

When I asked Laura what really gets her excited in the studio, her eyes lit up. She talked about emergent curiosity — playing with colour and tone not by following rigid rules, but by negotiating, being alert and instinctive, staying curious, and being willing to be surprised by where the work takes you.

Now THIS I understand completely! The best walks are the ones where you follow your nose rather than sticking to a predetermined route. You might discover something wonderful — a particularly interesting tree, or in Laura's case, abstract shapes that seem to emerge from the surface as if they were always there, just waiting to be discovered.

She doesn't force the shapes into being; she coaxes them free. It's a beautiful way to work, full of trust and openness.

Space That Pushes Back

Here's something that made my tail start wagging (I tried to be subtle about it): the way Laura treats the surface of her work. It's not just a background or a place to put marks — it's an active participant! The surface pushes back, it breathes, it has its own say in what the drawing becomes.

She treats the ground of the work as a co-author, a partner in the whole enterprise. And there's such generosity in this approach! All of this sophisticated thinking, all this hard-won knowledge — it's not there to show off or exclude people. It's there to share, to invite viewers in, to offer them a way into space and tone and the quiet drama of a line that knows where it's been and is still deciding where to go.

By my third circuit of the gallery, my tail was wagging quite vigorously. I attempted to maintain critical dignity, but honestly, when work is this good, why hide your enthusiasm?

The Verdict (With Tail Wags)

Journeys is a wonderful group show overall, but I must confess — and this might be the treats talking, though I don't think so — it's Laura Ramsey's contribution that has really lodged itself in my mind. 

Laura is an artist for whom drawing is thinking, colour is feeling, and the surface of a canvas is nothing less than a site of genuine encounter. To stand before her work is to witness someone understanding the world through their hands, their eyes, their accumulated knowledge of what drawing can do when given permission to surprise and delight.

This is art that invites rather than excludes, that opens doors rather than guards them. It's generous, intelligent, and wonderfully alive.

Highly recommended. Bring a thoughtful friend (or a well-behaved dog).

Journeys can be seen until 18 March 2026, Mon-Fri 10-4pm at the Brisbane Institute of Art, 41 Grafton St Windsor QLD

★★★★★ — Five enthusiastic tail wags

Vincent van Dog, for JudithRose.art

Art Critic and Very Good Boy