The title takes its cue from Birrarung, a Woi-wurrung name for the river often translated as “river of mists and shadows”. I was drawn to the image held in those words: mist settling above water, shadows moving across its surface and a landscape that appears and disappears with changing light. Those images stayed with me as I began developing the work overhead.

I developed the suspended field from layers of semi transparent fabric, working with changes in colour, density and shape to bring in a sense of mist, water, cloud and vegetation. The fabric is very light and responds to the air moving through the lobby, so the work never stays completely still. As the layers accumulated, I began to think of them as an upside down world, somewhere between a river, a cloud and a canopy.

When I studied the space, I became interested in how the work could connect the different parts of the lobby. The entrance, communal seating, second entry and the route towards the café and lifts are all part of the same movement through the building. I let the fabric meander across these areas, carrying the installation further inside. The two illuminated forms give that movement two points of focus: the smaller one sits near the entrance, while the larger one hangs over the communal seating area, closer to the people below. I was thinking about what would be encountered directly above the body, what could be seen from further away and how the work might gradually reveal itself as someone moved through the space.

The illuminated forms are more defined against the softness of the fabric. Their cut out patterns developed from eucalyptus shadows moving across water, while some of the finer lines draw on Portuguese filigree. Their overall forms reference the freshwater hydra and its remarkable ability to regenerate. I was drawn to that regenerative capacity while thinking about a place whose ecology had been so heavily altered. I liked bringing these references together at very different scales: the movement of a river, the shadow of a tree, the body of a small freshwater organism and the filigree traditions I grew up with in Portugal.

The soundscape, composed by Jonathon Griggs, is accessed through a QR code and listened to on headphones. I wanted that small action of stopping, scanning and listening to create a pause within the movement of the lobby. Once the headphones are on, the surrounding space recedes and the work can be entered in a more private and immersive way. We worked with sounds of trickling and flowing water, birds, vegetation and distant voices. At times it suggests being near a river at dawn, but the sounds do not belong to one clearly defined time. I wanted the sound to offer a moment of rest and to carry the listener further into the landscape, beyond what could be seen overhead.