What’s My Scene: Christian Best finds Adelaide’s hidden depths
In our regular Q&A column What’s My Scene, InReview speaks to emerging and established local artists to get their take on the South Australian creative scene and their place within it. This week, photographer, poet and actor Christian Best celebrates the people making “fun, weird, cool art” on a shoestring budget in their backyard.
Where was your first gig, and how did it go?
If I recollect correctly my first gig was a twofer. I had performed two acts for the Sanaa Festival organised by Victoria Lewis during the 2020 Adelaide Fringe. Victoria invited me to share some poems as a solo artist, and Yasmin Gureebo from ActNow invited me to perform in a show called My True Story.
At the time I didn’t realise they were scheduled not only for the same day, but in the same show. I said yes to both and performed both one after the other. With ActNow I shared someone else’s story about finding a landmine on the ground while playing outside as a child. For the solo act I read a series of poems that I wrote called A 21st Century Love Story in Reverse. It was my first time performing my own work for a large audience as a paid artist. It went well! People were stopping me in the streets to talk about it for a couple of months after, which I took as a good sign.
What is your artist origin story?
That’s tough. I was first “recognised” as an artist when I wrote a piece that was selected for a children’s poetry anthology. I was eight years old. Throughout my life I’ve played in bands and acted in plays and engaged in many different kinds of making, but I didn’t begin introducing myself as an artist until Covid. The change was in response to a pattern in my life. I kept finding myself in loathing the work I was doing. I didn’t have much free time, so I was neglecting my friends. The money I was bringing in wasn’t enough. At certain times in the year I’d be broke, lonely, and exhausted because my job was taking so much from me.
When I found myself in those situations, the element that consistently got me back on track was choosing to prioritise my artistic impulses. I recognised that, for me, my artistic endeavours yielded better returns than anything else I did. [I] decided to lean hard into making and taking artistic opportunities. From then on, doors started opening and I kept walking through them. Now here I am. Note: this is not advice.
What was your impression of the local scene when you first started, and how has that changed?
There’s a famous stretch of water in Yorkshire, England known as the Bolton Strid. On the surface it seems harmless. At only two metres wide, it has the appearance of a shallow creek. Under the surface there are deep, fast-moving, high-pressure caverns that refuse to release people once they’ve fallen in.
You might like
The Adelaide arts scene is like the Bolton Strid in that you have to fall into it to get an idea for its depth, and then there’s no going back. When I first got here the scene seemed quiet but active. There were regular gigs at The Cranker (RIP), The Grace Emily, Vintage Vulture, and The Gov and I’d already become enamoured with the museums, the murals, and the sculptures around the city. Then one evening, a lovely couple [shout out Declan and Rhona] struck up a conversation with me at The Austral. That same night they took me to a house party where I met the people who introduced me to what exists under the surface. The people making the really fun, weird, cool art are making it in the backyard of a share house. They’re making it on a shoestring budget with four friends on weekends and they’re doing it because they can. Adelaide is the womb for meaningful art, professional and amateur.
Arts groups like MUD and The Bait Fridge and Lab Rats have been pushing the envelope for artistic experimentation. Some of the best gigs I’ve ever been to have been in Adelaide. Kazmierz Collective, Surprise Chef, Ziggy Zeitgeist, and The Empty Threats to name a few. I’ve been involved in some wild projects. I once attended an event where a ceramic sphinx with Gina Rhinehart’s face was smashed with cinder blocks. Just last month I helped build a four-metre puppet for the hell of it. Adelaide has a long history of generosity for the arts. I think there’s a wide gap between practicing and emerging artists in Adelaide, with a lot of the more interesting art, conversations, and transactions happening underground.
How has your own creative work evolved since you first started?
More than anything my creative toolbox has expanded. A lot of the advice that I received from my elders growing up emphasised specialisation. “Do one thing and be an expert at it at it.” I’m grateful that I never listened. Outside of writing and photography I’ve taken up acting, woodworking, videography, circus, and standup. I’ve been able to take skills from these fields to enhance my understanding of other fields. My multiplicity has made me knowledgeable. That knowledge has given me the confidence to navigate my artistry, my personhood, and my surroundings with more clarity.
Subscribe for updates
With that being said, my photography ambitions have grown exorbitantly. The scale of the art that I feel able to make is much larger. My first exhibition featured 10 photos. The one that I’m currently building – the first of a series of exhibitions currently showing at The Mill – features 1,000. And I’m making the frames myself. It’s the most ambitious project I’ve ever attempted. Five years ago I wouldn’t have even considered it. My creative work has evolved past the desire for perfection and into an era where I’m more concerned with and able to appreciate the process.
What is it about your next project that you’re most excited, or nervous, to share with the world?
I’m excited to talk about it with people at the opening! I’m looking forward to sharing the behind-the-scenes stories of each portrait. I’m closer to some of the photographed subjects than others but there’s something to be said about every single one. Every element of each picture has a story from the source of the wood to the tools to the context behind each piece. I want to tell people about it. I feel good about what I’m doing and I want people to see that and benefit from it somehow. I’m excited to see the full spectacle of 1,000 faces when they’re up. Paradoxically I’m nervous about exposure. I love the stage and I love to perform but I’ve always been a little put off by the concept of large scale success and how I might respond to it.
Who are the artists around you that inspire or challenge you?
Catriona Smith. She’s an amazing puppet maker, my partner, and easily my harshest critic. Her high personal standards are a challenge and an inspiration.
Arantza Garcia. As of October 2025 she’s the best spoken word poet in Australia. I’m inspired by her passion and consistency.
Stephen Tongun. He’s a dynamo. He does so much and he’s good at all of it.
Favourite venue to play?
Underneath the Cherry Bomb Cafe in Ashton there’s this dry food storage cellar that’s been converted into a speakeasy/opium den type space. You have to duck to get in. It’s tight quarters, very intimate. I’ve performed there twice and it was special both times.
Dream artist to perform alongside?
Thundercat.
Favourite artist to collaborate with?
It’s a tie between Kristofer Lucia and Conor Mercury. They consistently have really fun ideas that end up looking great after we’re finished.
Where is your next gig/exhibition/performance, and how do you hope it will go?
I’m performing on the February 10, sharing a piece for the opening of Jasmine Crisp’s exhibition Not without each other at Adelaide Central School of Art. The pieces on display are absolutely gorgeous and it’s a privilege to be able to perform alongside them. I hope it goes really well.
Christian Best’s exhibition The House of a Thousand Faces is on display at The Mill until March 20. A free opening night event will be held on Friday February 6 from 5.30pm
Free to share
This article may be shared online or in print under a Creative Commons licence