Hobart, taS: australia’s unsung hero
I’m deep inside the Museum of Old and New Art in Hobart, Tasmania, and I seem to have lost all of my friends. I’m wandering around a section of Catholic church-based art called Heavenly Beings; the circular room has clouds painted on the walls and floor, and a mirror floods the entire ceiling. There are cloister-style arched doorways surrounding me; one of them feeds back into the main area of the museum, while the rest lead into darkened gallery rooms of rich oil paintings. I had stepped outside for a second to take a photo, and when I came back into the room, everyone was gone.
I poke my head inside one room. Nope, they’re not in there. Next room. Not in there. Next one. Nope. Next one. No. How is this possible? Did the museum open up and swallow them whole?
I stand in the middle and wait, like my mom always told me to do if I got lost when I was little. A few moments later my partner appears from one of the rooms.
“I looked in there!” I exclaim. “I couldn’t find you.”
“We went around the corner,” he offers. “There’s a small hallway that stretches into an entire secret room in the back.”
A secret room inside the Catholic art room inside the cloud room. Of course.
Such is the magic and mystery of MONA, which is a must-visit for anyone who is spending time in Hobart. As explained by the museum itself, this place is “a temple to secularism, rationalism, and talking crap about stuff you really don’t know very much about.”
Founded by eccentric Tassie (as they say here) professional gambler David Walsh, MONA is unlike any other collection of art and artifacts that I’ve ever encountered. The main building, designed by architecture firm Fender Katsalidis, is Bond-villain lair-like, jutting out on a cliff overlooking the water. (To get here, you can technically drive, but you’re better off taking the special MONA ferry, which is itself filled with art—and a bar.) The museum’s expansive floors encase everything from Picassos; to a giant dripping fountain that spells words with water; to a room that only women are allowed into (can’t reveal what’s in there, sorry); to a DJ playing unrelentingly experimental beats. Outside, there is a picnic area for food, wine, and beer; a stage for live concerts; a tennis court; and a trampoline.
Notably, none of the art pieces have placards with descriptions. How odd. “The question becomes: how do we interpret something when we have no context?” I earnestly write in my notes. A short while later I find out there is an app called The O that has all of the exhibit and artwork information, and I’d just somehow missed the prompt to download it. Oops.
Soon it’s time to head to Faro: MONA’s onsite fine dining restaurant with floor-toceiling windows. Getting to Faro is its own adventure, with multiple earpiece-clad hostess checkpoints that lead me down to the entrance hallway—which, turns out, is not just a regular hallway. Rather, it’s an original work by American contemporary light artist James Turrell. Casual.
My partner and I take a seat at Faro as a lady dressed in all black, face covered with a black veil, performs modern dance movements in between the tables. We order the wallaby carpaccio and it’s amazing. There is also a beet dish that includes a “perfume” of some sort “because,” our server says, “this is MONA.”
MONA is not the only thing to do in Hobart, of course (though I could have easily spent more than a day there). About 30 minutes outside of town is Bonorong Wildlife Sanctuary, which rescues and rehabilitates injured and abandoned animals. On a daily free tour, we learn about
the sanctuary’s adorable creatures—from Tasmanian devils (much cuter than the Loony Tunes make them seem) to cuddly wombats. We also feed the onsite kangaroos, who dramatically throw their heads back in bliss when we scratch their chests.
In terms of food, Hobart punches above its weight. Highlights include grabbing a bite and a beer at In The Hanging Garden: an open-air bar with multiple food stands. And there’s Room For A Pony for delicious brunch and coffee (two things Aussies sure do well), as well as Pot Sticker Dumpling House for excellent Chinese. We make two trips to Van Diemens Land Creamery, a floating ice cream shack on the pier.
When it comes time to sleep, we crash at impeccably lovely Maylands Lodge, which is located about 10 minutes outside the city centre. With gorgeous rooms and giant soaker tubs, this historic converted hotel— it used to be a boarding house for “unruly” girls—has charms in every corner.
Which is all to say that while Hobart might not be the first city on your lips when you think of Australia, maybe it should be.