Reviewing Sculptures by the Sea - 1st Prize Goes to Nature

I left Sculptures by the Sea laughing and wondering: Who lives at 12 Kennedy Street?

This annual exhibition showcases over 100 sculptures in one of Sydney’s most breathtaking locations. Marks Park—a peninsula perched between Bondi and Tamarama—overlooks Sydney’s eastern coastline like a deity surveying its creation. It’s springtime: warm, almost too warm for coffee, yet perfect for a coastal stroll.

I arrived skeptical. I’ve never really connected with sculptures. Would I find inspiration? Connection? Magic? Or just an amusing distraction before picking up the kids from kindie?

The first works didn’t win me over. A metallic clock with people walking around it. A rust-colored, impressionistic take on a penis and vagina. A massive rocket ship poised like a sentinel at the park’s edge. Impressive, but eh. Even the crowd seemed restless. On the cliff path, nature stole the show: whales breaching in the distance, a reminder that nothing beats the nature's show.

After the whales, I thought it was time for me to call it quits.

Then I saw it: Passages by Urs-P Twellman. A small forest, trees placed in a circle, each sliced down their centre with the flat surfaces facing outward. From afar, the trees seemed alive, waving their limbs as if to say, “Welcome to the show.” But up close, the narrative shifted. Their chainsaw scars glared like open wounds. You notice the stripped bark and can't help but see how mutilated they seem.

Inside the circle, the mood transformed again. I entered “tree world.” In this reality, I join the trees looking out to the spectators and become a part of the piece.

Content that I'd been inspired, I grabbed a spinach roll and headed stare out to sea. But near the rocket ship, I noticed something delicate: The Blue Above the Line by Orest Keywan. Modest, nearly invisible—a frame for the scenery it inhabited.

It looked cobbled together, like something salvaged from Wall-E’s scrapyard. Yet its presence was undeniable. It endured the elements—wind, rain, ocean salt spray—with a quiet resilience. Through it, the sea and sky became the art.

A perfect homage to nature.

If nothing in the 100-sculpture lineup moves you, find the next two pieces and have a laugh. In a world so determined to take itself seriously, I have a soft spot for artists who remind us to loosen up. I’m the weird person on the bus laughing out loud because everyone else looks so serious.

First up: Denis Defrancesco’s Kingkongballs XXL (2019). I mean, come on, people! A giant golden dick-and-balls blue monkey lounging in the middle of all these oh-so-serious sculptures. This guy gets it.

Radiating the kind of unbothered confidence we all secretly wish we had. He’s not pandering to the crowds or competing for significance. He’s a monkey who knows how to live.

He also has the aspect of endurance. He seems more human than most monkeys. A planet-of-the-apes level of intelligence. As if he knows something we don't.

Then there’s Drew McDonald’s Sharknana.

Is it a message about saving sharks? A metaphor for “consumption is the real predator”? Probably not. But honestly, who cares? Sometimes, you just need to laugh. And for that, Drew, I thank you.

Okay, so what's up with Kennedy Street. Kennedy Street is a millionaire’s row, leading straight to Sculptures by the Sea. At 12 Kennedy Street, just above the garage, you’ll spot a Yayoi Kusama pumpkin lounging on a coffee table, gazing out at the ocean.

The house is peppered with modern art pieces too cool for me to comprehend fully. I’d love to meet the owner. Maybe write a little feature on their collection - who are they and what’s their story?

It’s a small mystery. One that, like Kingkongballs, will leave you grinning all the way home.

I left Sculptures by the Sea feeling content, light and a little sweaty.

What stayed with me most from this year's exhibition was the quiet wisdom of Blue Above the Line. It didn’t shout or demand attention, but instead gently framed what was already there: the unique wonder, awe, and beauty of nature. It’s a reminder that the beauty of life is found in appreciating what I already have.

Check out all the work on the Sculptures by the Seas website.