Cultural oddity and social satire, the Bald Archy Prize, is currently in its seventeenth year, continuing to poke fun at the rigid formalities of Australia’s gigantic art competition the Archibald Prize. Bald Archy founder Peter Batey is still as enthusiastic as ever about the exhibition. Well over a hundred entries are expected this year, with Batey eagerly looking forward to viewing them all.

“Of course,” he chirps down the phone line, “it’s like Christmas.”

The Bald Archy is shaping into a graphic representation of Australian history from its beginnings in the mid-nineties, right down to this year’s entries. “When you see them all together it’s quite a remarkable collection,” Batey muses. “In actual fact, the exhibition each year is a snapshot of Australian life, of Australian society.” One of the main differences of the Bald Archy, compared to its more serious step-sibling the Archibald, is that the artist does not need to personally know their subject, nor need their permission to create their work. This could potentially bubble into a horrid disaster, but Batey confirms there have been no complaints from any of the array of people featured in the portraits. It’s all just a part of good old Australian larrikinism. Subjects have ranged from political figures to entertainers, anyone famous enough to spark interest from the artist. Last year’s winner, "Old Owl Eyes Is Back" by James Brennan, featured racing icon Bart Cummings, his eyebrows growing well up into his perfectly coiffed white hair. Whoever the subject, opinions are encouraged. The artist “must have something to say about person they are painting.”

Originating from The Festival Of Fun, also founded by Batey, in the small NSW country town of Coolac, the rascally Bald Archy has snuck its way into the world of Australian art culture.

“It was only really an invention of a small country town arts festival”, Batey says, noting that it stemmed from a lack of art exhibitions in small towns. Every year the Bald Archy exhibition travels the nation, reaching towns that would not normally get access to an exhibition of its nature, including Bowral and West Wyalong. The reactions each year, Batey confirms, are incredibly positive. “It’s fascinating watching people go in and you know which ones they vote for. They’ll stand around laughing at a picture of the opposition.”

“The exhibition is only an extension of what The Bulletin used to do, and Smiths Weekly, which were both loaded with pictorial satire,” says Batey, giving a nod to the history of Australia’s appreciation for satirical humour. “It’s entertaining art. It’s about art, it is querying about art.…It’s not really about political comment at all. It’s basically about celebrities or just well known personalities.” The dose of humour is all part of the exhibition’s charm, attracting loyal followers, art aficionados, and the everyday “man off the street” to wander in and have a squiz at the paintings. With all participants encouraged, the artistic nature of the portraits is diverse. “It’s a mixture of things. There are some pretty experienced illustrators or newspapers caricaturist and all the way down to Sunday afternoon painters.”

Of course, there will always be entrants of a more aggressive political nature, which distracts from the playful tone. “It’s also very difficult in an exhibition like this, it does allow for political comment,” agrees Batey. “It goes with the current political territory.” Mentioning that in the past there has been an overload of a particular subject, such as Pauline Hanson or John Howard, Batey suggests that “many of these are not done in the spirit of the competition…Most of them don’t get in because, who cares?”

Arguably the most provoking element of the contest, the myth of the Bald Archy’s judging panel, is still circulating, baffling the public. The infamous boast that the contest’s main, and only, judge is a cockatoo named Maude, is still ruffling feathers over a decade on. Batey finds it “fascinating that people still believe it”, though clearly the joke may still be lost on some. “There was a young reporter who came here for an interview, who spent three hours trying to interview the cockatoo. I kept saying, ‘Mate, it’s just a cockatoo. Ask me questions because I can channel what she’s thinking.’”

“The other interesting thing is that there are a lot of people who don’t have a sense of humour. People you’d never imagine, including artists. Some of the conversations I’ve had with artists have gone on…hour and a half, two hours, about how it’s impossible for a cockatoo to judge a prize. It’s no more impossible than the entire board of directors, at the Art Gallery of NSW. They’re business men, what do they know?”

The exhibition will travel to Canberra in February and March, in conjunction with the Multicultural Festival, where the public can view the entries before the winner is announced later in Sydney. With last year dishing up a whole heap of media frenzy and perfect targets for the competition, who knows who’ll end up hanging in the exhibition this year?

The Bald Archy Prize shows at the Watson Arts Centre, Aspinall Street Watson, from February 5 to March 8. Open daily 10 til 4pm. Entry $3. Check out www.canberrapotters.com.au for details.

A snappy beat, a jangly keyboard, a horn section, and an affable, fast-talking cabaret MC – it’s a classic beginning in musical theatre. But in Andrew Hackwill’s new musical opening at the Tuggeranong Arts Centre, there’s a twist: the host is St Peter, the holder of the keys to the pearly gates, and “things aren’t all that happy here in Heaven,”

The Department of Heaven is an entirely new and original musical written by Hackwill and directed by Lainie Hart. The conceit of the work is that Heaven is like a government department, and St Peter is the chief of staff. Unfortunately for us humans, God is getting pretty sick of us all – and of his job. He’s ready to retire, and is about to pull the pin on the “incredible experiment we call the human race,”

Meanwhile, St Peter has lost the keys to Heaven – inside of which, are a host of A-list historical figures, from Rasputin to Robin Hood.

The spark that ignited The Department of Heaven came from costume designer Christine Pawlicki. The idea was to put on a funny, intimate show, “loaded with historical figures” and “something that the audience could find familiar,” essentially so “she could go nuts with the costuming,” says Hackwill.

“Where do you set a show with figures spanning two thousand years?” asks Hackwill. “Well, the answer, of course, was Heaven,”

The result is a show with “instant appeal,” argues Hackwill. “There are seventeen very funny, very clever songs, and a very funny plot to connect them,”

“It’s a lovely opportunity,” says director Lainie Hart. “One of the opportunities is that you have these historical figures […] that people feel connected to. It’s the opportunity to make something a little bit unexpected, a bit more flamboyant,”

It’s also a show that is designed to appeal to it’s audience: we of the nation’s capital.

“It’s a language and a sense of humour that’s very Australian,” says Hart.

“One of the important things about this show […] it’s come from the perspective of a person who wants to be entertained,” says Hackwill, arguing that putting on a play from a foreign country that’s fifty years old seems pretty irrelevant to Canberran audiences.

Hence conflating Heaven with a government department.

“There’d be enough public servants to understand the departmental humour,”

One of the structural jokes of the show is that, in order to distract God from retiring, St Peter brings in a consultant to reorg the department. When you need to make a bang and a crash, who better than Thor – Norse God of Thunder?

“His plan is to turn the department into a cabaret venue,” says Hackwill, “to entertain God.” So the host of Heaven – Alexander the Great, Lady Godiva, Queen Bess – present a “chocolate box” of cabaret songs, says Hart, designed to entertain the Heavenly Father – and the show’s Canberran audiences.

“It’s outrageous, it’s controversial, and no, it had not been sanctioned by Rome,” says Hackwill. “Yet.”

The Department of Heaven plays at the Tuggeranong Arts Centre from February 10 to 13. For bookings and information call 6293 1443.