Exclusive interview with Jessica Murtagh, 2nd Prize Winner Yasha Young Projects Sculpture Award Beautiful Bizarre Art Prize 2025 by Danai Molocha
Glass artist and designer Jessica Murtagh is painfully familiar with the literal and figurative cubicle spaces of office life. But she won’t be boxed in. Completing a Master’s in Design (Contemporary Art) in 2022 and making the big leap from marketing to creating art full-time, she had the wittiest comeback in full art form: the mundanity of the office, the watercooler conversations and heaps of memos were now proudly depicted on a tongue-in-cheek glass amphora in luminous blue and white shades. Her brilliant Modern Relic series was designed to give to future generations, that could possibly dig it up, clues of our contemporary way of life — Covid, smartphones, super markets and all.
Sandblasted and engraved with patience and passion, humour and acute observational skills, her sculptural and functional vessels put her current experiences and insights in full-blown, classical-influenced display, transforming ancient Hellenic artifacts into intricate signs of our times.
Her winning Brunch with Narcissus depicts not Olympian landscapes and demigods but the familiar art of snaps and snacks, just one facet of a magnificent and varied body of work that includes light-catching two-toned vessels, elegant botanical themes and a chillingly eye-opening Bunyip Bushfires series, inspired by the “force of ruin” that continues to ravage the Australian landscape.
In this exclusive interview, Jessica delves into her past and present as an artist shedding light to everyday behaviours and impulses that, as she wisely points out, haven’t really changed much in the last few centuries.
Interview with Jessica Murtagh
What sparked your fascination with Ancient Greece and Athenian artifacts? Is it purely aesthetic or do you have a personal connection?
I’ve been drawn to ancient Greek mythology and artifacts ever since primary school. It’s possible the initial exposure to ancient Greece might actually be from the silliest source and interpretation of ancient Greek mythology – the epic TV shows of the ‘90s The Adventures of Hercules and my personal hero, Xena: Warrior Princess. But wonderfully camp TV shows aside, the ancient Greeks had the best mythologies and some of the most interesting artifacts.
In every museum, that quintessential amphora relic would give me a glimpse into another world, from the heroic deeds of Perseus to mundane acts of the common people. And it’s always been a source of wonder to be able to see into the past with such detail, even today that wonder still exists when I look at something from centuries ago. These ancient artifacts form a type of time machine for me, exporting us all to a time millennia ago.
Your work combines topical societal commentary and the refreshing hilarity of the everyday. Is that a wider reflection of how you approach life?
Absolutely. I’ve always enjoyed observing others in the public sphere, my own small approach to anthropology. It may be something to do with spending a good portion of my 20s immersed in the world of stand-up comedy (though I never got on stage myself), that has me keenly observing the world around me and finding the humour in the mundane. I enjoy these small things in life that are almost like levellers for society – things that we all do without realising it. I find a lot of comfort and humour in knowing that there is more that we all have in common than what makes us different to each other.
I find a lot of comfort and humour in knowing that there is more that we all have in common than what makes us different to each other.
Jessica Murtagh
What are the biggest challenges in translating illustration ideas into glass? Is that part of what excites you about the medium? Do you incorporate flaws into your art?
Glass has got to be one of the most beautiful mediums in art and craft, but it’s definitely right up there with the toughest in terms of being challenging. I will say that blowing glass itself is one of the best parts of the process and it’s the reason I found myself drawn into the art world to begin with.
It’s an exciting, adrenaline-producing form of art-making. Something about molten glass is just uniquely special. But each step of the way has its difficulties. From blowing the glass form, to drawing the scenes, to applying the sandblasting resist medium to the glass surface. The material can test your patience and so much can go wrong at each process.
But the end result is so rewarding with the way light hits glass and bounces around, making that frosted surface luminous. A scene that is perfectly fine on the page is suddenly brought to life in this glowing form. As for flaws, each piece has a small specific flaw incorporated in it, though it’s not always obvious. Most of the pieces also have a small in-joke for those who are looking closely, from a funny (and sometimes rude) bit of graffiti to a movie/TV reference only understood if you’re looking very closely.
What is your personal relationship with technology and your smartphone? Are your sculptures also a form of self-reflection?
My relationship with technology is equal parts dependence and bewilderment. I’m as glued to my phone (and every other glowing screen) as anyone, yet completely resistant to understanding how it actually works. The moment I’m asked to update it or download something, my brain immediately shuts down. It’s a very modern push-pull: total reliance layered over mild Luddite impulses. That contradiction absolutely seeps into the work. Using ancient forms to depict contemporary tech behaviour is a way of acknowledging that I’m not above it, I’m documenting a culture I fully participate in.
Has there been a particularly memorable reaction to your art?
The reactions I treasure most are the ones where someone laughs, then suddenly pauses because they’ve recognised a part of themselves in the piece. That shift from amusement to introspection is exactly the tension I love working with.
Using ancient forms to depict contemporary tech behaviour is a way of acknowledging that I’m not above it, I’m documenting a culture I fully participate in.
Jessica Murtagh
There is one small but specific moment that I really loved though. I had posted online a picture of a piece which discreetly referenced one of my favourite movies Office Space. In my long history of being an office worker, this movie has often felt much like a documentary of my life. Some very keen-eyed people spied this very small reference and absolutely loved it, it was a very fun moment for me to have people reach out, understanding the work and where I was coming from so acutely. It was a moment where I felt that same comfort that again, we all have more in common than we have differences.
A curator once described my vessels as “future archaeology,” and that phrase completely reframed how I understood my practice. It made me realise I wasn’t just illustrating behaviour and modern life, I was recording it for someone else to interpret long after we’re gone.
Glass has a strong connection to light and transparency. How does light function conceptually in your work?
When it comes to my work, light really is the activator. It turns a static object and frozen drawing into a shifting narrative surface. Because glass is transparent, the illustrations don’t just sit on the vessel, they float within it. Light is so important to the pieces that when I get the amount of blue colour saturation too high or low, it can really affect the impact of the illustration.
As a contemporary chronicler, do you think human behaviour — our rituals, vanities, routines — has really changed that much over time?
Not really. The tools have changed but the instincts haven’t. We’ve swapped lyres for smartphones, frescoes for Instagram and fountain house gossip for group chats, but the underlying impulses are the same. We still preen, document, flirt, complain and present curated versions of ourselves to the world. My work leans into that continuity. I’m far more interested in how similar we still are than in the differences.
We’ve swapped lyres for smartphones, frescoes for Instagram and fountain house gossip for group chats, but the underlying impulses are the same.
Jessica Murtagh
Is there an artwork of yours with a particularly meaningful behind-the-scenes story?
It was a piece really early in my art practice, I think the second one I had made in this Modern Relic amphora style series of work. It depicted a collection of office cubicle spaces with characters doing different things. I had just recently quit my office job in marketing to pursue art full time and I found myself documenting my life in this piece.
The mundaneness, the monotony of office life, the mountain of memos – that annoying manager who asks you to come in on Saturday! It had been my life for so long. But what was most meaningful was when the piece made its way into the world, both online and physically, was the reaction I got from others. That I had captured their experience and their lives and engraved it onto glass like a historical record. It was a real moment of feeling understood and it really helped me in a moment of uncertainty about pursuing art further.
Where do you see yourself in the next few years — one dream or goal as an artist?
Hopefully still making glass artworks! It’s one good thing that comes from spending half of my working life as an office worker, is that I really appreciate that I get to live the dream of being an artist. Not to say that it isn’t difficult or challenging at times, but it certainly has given me a great deal of perspective. As for a dream goal, I would love to exhibit at Art Basel in Paris one day. It would be such an unbelievable experience to be amongst such an incredible collection of artists, curators and collectors. It’s a long way off, but definitely something I aspire to.
Why did you enter the Beautiful Bizarre Magazine Art Prize?
It was specifically due to Beautiful Bizarre’s focus on representational art. I feel like minimalist and abstract art often dominates the landscape in both the commercial and public gallery setting. Even in art prizes, it’s often an abstract work that wins top prize. Whilst I do enjoy abstract work, it’s representational art that I have always been drawn to, it’s what I relate to and I can really appreciate the skill, hard work, talent that goes into creating work like that. So when I saw this prize come up and saw the artists involved with Beautiful Bizarre magazine and previous finalists and winners, I knew I wanted to be part of something that championed representational art so wonderfully.
What have you gained from this experience?
It’s given me an invaluable sense of visibility and connection. Seeing my work amongst some of the most incredibly talented representational artists around the world has been a phenomenal experience. The feedback and engagement is both affirming and motivating. It’s also been inspiring, even responding to the exhibition theme of Reverie has pushed me in a new direction thematically, which has been really fun and given me a fresh look at my work.
Would you recommend the prize to others? Why?
Absolutely. It’s one of the few prizes that genuinely supports a wide range of styles and disciplines rather than favouring a single aesthetic. The exposure is real, the process is supportive and it creates a sense of community among artists who approach storytelling in innovative ways. I especially recommend this prize for those representational artists feeling a bit lost in an artworld that can overlook this style of art. Being part of the Beautiful Bizarre prize is a rewarding experience and will make you look at your art practice in a new light.