HOME: When You Bite Off More Than You Can Chew (And Somehow Make It Work)

A reflection on my experience with the Australian Pavilion at the Venice Architecture Biennale 2025

So… when I first signed on to work with the HOME team for the Venice Architecture Biennale 2025, I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into. What started as a design gig—Art Director and Branding Lead for the Australian Pavilion—ended up being one of the most intense, life-changing experiences I've ever had. And that's saying something.

Bigger Than Expected

HOME wasn't just some exhibition. It was a proper cultural statement, a space for dialogue, and a celebration of First Nations knowledge systems. The project asked this deceptively simple question: What does home mean to you? Sounds easy enough, right? Wrong.

Working alongside the Creative Sphere crew, I was trusted with turning deep cultural stories into a visual identity that would do justice to the pavilion's themes of belonging, storytelling, and caring for Country. The pressure was massive—this wasn't just about whipping up a logo or picking some nice colours. It was about respectfully representing Country, not as some place on a map, but as a living, breathing system of knowledge, kinship, and care.

Well… That Escalated Quickly

What I reckoned would be a straightforward branding job quickly turned into something way more complex and demanding. The complexities of losing my full-time job whilst working so hard on a project with no budget became a harsh reality pretty quickly. I found myself putting my own money on the line, self-funding my way through months of work, and pushing my body and bank account to breaking point.

The physical stuff was a real curveball. What started as designing the HOME logomark—a ceremonial circle forming the letter 'O' to symbolise inclusivity, dialogue, and kinship—turned into ramming earth and crafting 127 hand-made plaster panels. Every single part of the exhibition was built by us, by hand. This wasn't just about creating a visual identity anymore; it was about literally building a vision into reality with our bare hands.

All Hands on Deck

The collaborative process became as important as the final product. Working directly with Emily McDaniel, Clarence Slockee, Michael Mossman, Jack Gillmer-Lilley, Kaylie Salvatori, Elle Davidson, Brad Kerr, and Erin Davidson, I learned that culturally grounded creative direction requires more than just technical skills—it demands intuition, sensitivity, and properly listening to what people are saying.

The Australia Pavilion became our home, both literally and figuratively. Through countless late nights and absolutely exhausting days, we created something that invited visitors not just to have a look but to actually participate. Heaps of people left contributions that became part of a living archive, transforming the space into something dynamic and constantly evolving.

…Absolutely Exhausting

I'm not gonna sugarcoat it—this project was really tough. Emotionally, physically, and financially draining. Many of us lost jobs, burned through savings, and pushed ourselves well beyond what seemed sustainable. We laughed, we cried (a lot), we danced, and we shared stories. There were moments when I seriously questioned whether the sacrifice was worth it.

The financial pressure was particularly brutal. Working on a project with no budget meant every expense came straight out of our own pockets. Materials, travel, accommodation, food—it all added up while income disappeared. The stress of maintaining this commitment while watching my financial security disappear was overwhelming at times.

The Transformation

But through all this madness, something remarkable happened. The HOME team became my family. In the midst of exhaustion and uncertainty, we found strength in each other. The trust they placed in me to help tell their story, and the way they held me up through the hardest parts, created bonds that went way beyond just working together.

The pavilion's success—receiving acclaim for its respectful fusion of culture and contemporary design—validated not just our work, but our approach. We'd created a model for culturally grounded creative direction that could influence future exhibitions and encourage Indigenous-led, inclusive design practices.

The Question: Would I Do It Again?

As my time in Venice came to a bittersweet close, people kept asking if I'd do it again. The answer surprises even me: absolutely, in a heartbeat. For each and every one of the people who became my family through this process.

Yeah, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Yeah, the complexities of losing financial stability while pouring everything into an unfunded project nearly broke me. Yeah, putting my own money on the line was terrifying and completely unsustainable.

But what we created together—this space for cultural exchange where visitors could connect with the stories of Country and reflect on their own concepts of home—was worth every sacrifice. We didn't just design an exhibition; we built a bridge between cultures, created a platform for dialogue, and demonstrated that Indigenous knowledge systems have profound lessons for how we think about design, community, and belonging.

Worth It

The HOME logomark and visual identity became more than brand assets—they became symbols of what's possible when creative collaboration is rooted in respect, cultural sensitivity, and genuine partnership. The ceremonial circle that formed our central design element truly did create inclusivity and dialogue, just as we intended.

This project taught me that the most meaningful work often comes with the highest cost. It challenged everything I thought I knew about professional boundaries, financial planning, and creative collaboration. But it also showed me what happens when you're willing to sacrifice for something bigger than yourself.

What began as a design job became a journey of discovery—about Indigenous knowledge systems, about the true meaning of home, about the power of collaborative creativity, and about my own capacity for resilience and growth.

It was one hell of a ride.

Follow @home_as_country on Instagram to see more of what we built together, and to join us in celebrating the ongoing conversation about HOME, Country, and belonging.