For Sweet World’s inaugural show, Travis Ficarra presents a new Chocolate Goblin. The sculpture is installed in a long, narrow room, directly across from Koons’ Gazing Ball

(Gericault Raft of the Medusa). You can’t avoid it. Previously shown at Glasshouse (Melbourne, Australia) and DARKMOFO (Hobart, Australia), the Goblin returns here with a more aggressive presence. Glossy body, fixed expression, surfaces that hint at damage. Ficarra works with 3D like others work with memory, mixing familiar shapes with contextless fragments. There’s no clear story. Just mood, pressure, suggestion. The figure doesn’t explain itself. It waits, blocks, stares. Half toy, half glitch. Positioned to control the viewer’s movement, its role isn’t narrative; it’s spatial.

This new work fits into a broader visual language Ficarra has built over time: digital textures, fake gloss, broken candy finishes. There’s something comforting and hollow at once. Things that look sweet, feel wrong, and resist clean interpretation.

How did you become involved with Sweet World's inaugural show?

I was contacted by them after the first Chocolate Goblin exhibition at Glasshouse and they wanted to commission a new work for the space. It's really wild to have the opportunity to make such an ambitious piece.

What interested you about this group exhibition and the way the works are brought together?

I think both the works speak to something like superficiality and violence. These two principles exist in an uneasy balance. Throughout the show overall there is a constant tension between conflicting elements; Fantasy and reality, a glossy slickness and a grime or rot. Something that pushes you away and draws you in. I enjoy the oscillation between things like this, or rather occupying that space in-between.

““I’m attracted to something like a plastic toy that has grime and scratches, worn scuff marks, or like sickly candy, a rotting cake.” ”

— Travis John Ficarra

Can you tell us about the work you're exhibiting? What's the story or the energy behind it?

I think the Chocolate Goblins as a whole are kind of self-contradictory or paradoxical characters. They are simultaneously sinister and/or cute, threatening and/or playful, attractive and/or ugly... they are almost human in form. Muddying the reading leaves room for interpretation. They may exist in a fictional place, but the particular story is obfuscated. The ambiguity is more akin to world building than storytelling, or there is an element of storytelling required by an audience. The Gazing Ball Paintings function in a similar way, they implicate the audience.

How do you approach creating work for a specific space like Sweet World? Was the setting important in shaping your final image?

We decided early on to work with the same character that was featured in Glasshouse, although the design has changed a little bit. From there it's a matter of working with the physicality and location, the way an audience interacts with the work. She is quite threatening, and you can't really get around her. The space is also long and fairly narrow and the works are positioned quite close to one another; you have to walk right up to her to properly see the Koons. I think it's maybe a bit intimidating, I'm not sure. She seems a little more sinister than the last iteration.

What's your 3D workflow like, do you start with sketches, references, a specific mood?

I begin on a computer, I just treat 3D modelling software like a bit of a sandbox for play. I don't use really specific references. I tend to come back to books/movies/games/artists, things that I repeat read/watch/play regularly that act more as general points of reference. Something that evokes a particular mood or deals with things I am interested in as it relates to my practice.

Are there particular textures, surfaces, or materials you keep coming back to in your visual language?

I work on my computer mostly, I am really drawn to that kind of synthetic sheen, the glossy surface effect. There is something simultaneously hollow and comforting about it. When work makes its way to the physical world, I sometimes try to mark it or break it down a little. I'm attracted to something like a plastic toy that has grime and scratches, worn scuff marks, or like sickly candy, a rotting cake. I don't know if the work always turns out like that, but it's the kind of thing I think about when I make something.

What's something you love that has absolutely nothing to do with art?

I did my undergrad in music performance, I don't know if that counts. I still play shows when I have the time. Otherwise I'm pretty dedicated to videogames, currently playing Monster Hunter Wilds and Balatro quite a bit. I really want to make a videogame.

Where did you grow up, and do you think your surroundings had an influence on your interest in aesthetics or exhibition-making?

I grew up about an hour from Melbourne, Australia. I don't think there was anything in particular that influenced me in terms of art or aesthetics; maybe just boredom in a small town. My sister and I were just always interested in art and music. We were both lucky to have encouragement to pursue these interests from a young age.