Reclaiming Beauty with Ro Noonan

Ro Noonan is a Melbourne-based artist whose practice bridges sculpture and painting, focusing on the overlooked by-products of construction—cut-offs, supports and debris. His work elevates these discarded materials through a slow, intuitive process that embraces moments of struggle and failure. By highlighting their inherent beauty, Ro creates pieces that reflect both a raw aesthetic and a reverence for craftsmanship, testing the ability of these elements to coexist in new forms.

Ro's work can be viewed at Craft Victoria as part of the 'Fables & Folklore' exhibition curated by designer Simone Haag, from now until the end of January.

Photography by Georgia Smedley and Lauren Dunn

When did you start making art, and what inspired you to pursue it as a vocation?

I have always been curious about the process of making, even as a child – testing the potential of things and how they fit together. I do come from a line a of builders; surrounded by construction. Staying curious as an adult becomes more difficult; but making art for me has always had an element escapism or respite – which has shifted from a want to a need. Using my hands remains the constant.

Have you had any mentors along the way?

Many! I have been fortunate enough to have been guided and supported by remarkable teachers and mentors through high school, TAFE and university. Now, that mentorship comes from peers – making art can be very insular so it’s important to surround yourself with trusted eyes that will tell you something is bad or to maybe change direction and step away for a bit.

What are some of the prevailing themes explored in your work?

The sculptures and paintings I make are formations made from recipes I can never quite remember; with ingredients and themes that centre around struggle, failure and intimacy. The finished results are works that aim to conjure some of that curiosity, slowness and reflection in the observer we forget to prioritise or allow space for.

Describe your process, and how you translate ideas to tangible form.

A scrap of wood or a twisted rusty wire – both seeds for an idea. My studio at times feels like a library for scraps and debris with a Dewey system only I can understand. But my process is in the everyday – the constant act of collecting and observing. It is in this process of collating and joining when things start to make sense and take form. The sculptures have no clear ending, and the finished point is intuitive and sometimes you can overwork and go too far. If this happens, the works are then broken down as fertiliser for the start of something new. My time in the studio consists of this playful process over and over.

Your work spans painting and sculpture, often incorporating discarded materials. Is that element of sustainability intentional, aesthetic or a combination of the two?

I am thankful to have been raised resourceful and to waste as little as possible, and I think reuse makes for far more interesting results. When I collect material or objects, there is an inherent selection criterion I have developed over the years that balances both aesthetic qualities and reuse.There is a satisfaction in giving life to the discarded, honouring the stories in the scuffs, rust and patina.

Are there any pieces you’ve made that hold particular sentimentality?

This is something I often think about and adhere to in my every day and art practice. Making work for me is very slow, as if the timeline or completion is outside of my control – meaning, I can have works sitting in my studio for years before they ever see beyond the studio walls. That’s a long time to spend with something and bonds form. I do get attached but I can also find myself coveting found scraps, stone or timber. Recently I inadvertently made a work that I could hold like a swaddled baby, fittingly titled, ‘Easy to Cradle, Harder to Hold’ (which I think, will stay with me indefinitely).

"Honour your mistakes. Listen and learn from them, and add them to your story."

Have you drawn any life lessons from your craft?

Acknowledge, embrace and honour your mistakes. Listen and learn from them, collect them, stack them together and add them to your story.

What do you need in your surroundings to feel creative and productive?

Sometimes just getting to the studio and slipping on the shirt, shorts and boots is enough. And to be honest, some of my biggest breakthroughs have come from not manufacturing the perfect environment but sitting in the discomfort or uninspired moments and working through it.

We were delighted to hear that Simone Haag handpicked you for ‘Fables & Folklore’, the Craft Victoria exhibition she is curating. Can you give us a teaser of the works you’ll be showcasing?

I am excited to be a part of this show and to be amongst so many brilliant makers – I am including a freestanding pillar-like sculpture and two textured surface paintings varying in size. All three works are individual but share a vague resemblance; built on foundations of opposites – adding and taking away are both equally important in their construction. If you lean in slowly, you can begin to uncover familiar features buried in layers – double-take the tiles from your childhood bathroom, or the likeness of a friend you can’t see anymore. The work embodies an in-between-ness and a ‘where do I know you from’-ness.

You’re based in Melbourne. Are there any spaces or places you venture to when you’re in need of inspiration?

I do like to retreat to nature and my parents live in the bush just outside of Melbourne. A visit out there featuring a fossick through Dad’s shed and rubbish trailer for material is always very restorative. And if staying home and in need of a spark, gallery stops to Daine Singer and ReadingRoom along with some art book page-turning at Perimeter does the trick.