The Network of Un-Collectable Artists (NUCA) is preparing for the Limited Edition release of a set of BubbleGum Collector cards documenting the activities of Australia’s 50 Most Uncollectable Artists.

NUCA is a brand new nation-wide affiliation connecting those who gravitate towards ephemeral projects, participatory experiences, illegal art actions, and activities that oddify everyday life. Some members make unwieldy installation projects, while others alter billboards, project images in abandoned spaces at night, or exchange ideas rather than objects. Some simply make dead ugly paintings that would never sell. Because such artworks are often fiendishly tricky to document, they seldom grace the columns of “recognised” publications. NUCA is building a publicity machine of its own, so artists may exchange essential info about their activities, collaborate on new projects, and connect with Un-Collectable others

It’s actually funny that this should pop into my inbox (via fibreculture), because I’ve continued to be intrigued by the practice of writing, painting, and photographing the dark underground of the city.

Which reminds me, the other day QUT hosted a (promotional) talk by Richard Florida. I’d read the book, and thought some of it was pretty true, and some of it makes for more of the kinds of urban planning I’d like to see. Encouraging, rather than discouraging, neo-bohemias (his term, not mine) seems all very good to me. But when I left the talk, I just felt that the ideal city being described and desired (by the suits in the front row) was too clean and shiny. My exact words were, “I feel like going home to the country and playing under the house” – a cool, dark, unpopulated place where all country kids love to play imaginative games. Which led me to thinking about sleepy city again, and how too much urban regeneration may not be such a good thing. Which is why the Powerhouse is generally not detested by even the most cranky lovers of urban decay – keeping the graffiti, the roughness, the rusted things, is what has given it a kind of creative tension and a productive continuity with the past that is loved by locals and artists alike.