2001 SLIGHTLY INDECENT

Hazel Dooney's work carries the subversive and slick trademarks of
contemporary consumer culture. Like Warhol and Lichtenstein, Dooney
understands that, in contemporary society, the media can communicate
more effectively to a greater number of people than an art object can.

The comic book reality of her amazonian überbabes is instantly recogniseable.
Dooney's girls invite the viewer to aspire to their perfect dimensions, and
prominent charms.

Like the girls in a James Bond movie, their sexuality is a worthy weapon, but
strangely impotent when push comes to shove. Like the best advertisement,
they make you an offer you can't refuse, but satisfaction is never guaranteed.
Like most offers of this nature, they are simply too good to be true.

Dooney's candy coloured palette is straight from the swatches of a Seidler pad –
smooth, hip and modern as tomorrow. They are egalitarian colours for the
everyman. Easy on the eye and hard to resist.

Unlike Warhol, who sometimes used a loose brush and deliberate paint drips to
parody expressive painters, there are no tell tale brush strokes in Dooney's work
that might betray a flawed human touch. She works in high gloss enamel paint
allowing for a flaw free surface that appears to be still wet and forever new.

Dooney's work exploits the values of consumer culture and the myths of post
feminist girl power and in doing so exposes them.

Like the culture they parody, they are superficial, but glamorously, sinfully irresistible.

– Jenny Hanson Read, February 2001