Basta: Your work experiments beautifully with art, design, and fashion, merging these elements through sustainability. Could you talk about the journey that led you to focus on sustainability?

Indy: I was raised in a home that normalized second hand, low-waste, and energy-conscious habits, so I had early exposure to sustainable practices. It definitely shaped how I think. Sustainability has become second nature to me. When I first started making art, I had little money, so I worked with whatever I could access, like old jeans, hats, and textiles from the charity shop. That’s where it all began. Even now, after five years in my practice, working with pre-existing materials just feels right. New materials often feel sterile or disconnected, like they haven’t lived a life yet. Over time, my practice naturally evolved from repurposing existing materials to creating my own, such as bacterial leather and alginate-based biomaterials, while also foraging natural materials like bull kelp, which is where my practice currently sits.


Basta: I am curious to learn more about Spiraro - did it begin as a project centred around fashion and how has it evolved over time?

Indy: Spiraro began as an upcycling fashion project, focused on reworking pre-existing clothing. After three years of working with clothing, I soon found myself at a bit of a dead end, as my true interest always lay more in the textile side of fashion rather than garment construction. I stopped producing clothing at the end of 2023, which was a tough decision given how much time and energy I’d invested in learning the craft and navigating the complexities of the fashion market. But it was a rewarding shift, as it allowed me to move toward a more fluid and expansive artistic practice, one that doesn’t require me to fit into the constraints of comfort and bodies. Over time, my practice has naturally evolved into a much broader exploration that now includes textile design, sculpture, lighting, and biomaterials. I work with foraged and pre-existing materials like bull kelp, steel, and discarded textiles, as well as biomaterials like bacterial leather and algae-based bioplastics. 


Basta: On your website, it states that the name Spiraro comes from the Latin verb “spirare”, meaning “to breathe out”. I would love to hear how this resonates with your practice and creative process.

Indy: The name Spiraro originally came from a combination of letters I was drawn to. I liked how it sounded and how it brought to mind spirals, which I’ve always associated with reincarnation in nature. It wasn’t until a few years ago when my dad sent me a link to a video of a motivational speaker explaining the Latin verb ‘spirare,’ meaning ‘to breathe out,’ that I realised there was a connection. Discovering this meaning was a serendipitous moment! The concepts of breathing out, exhaling, now feel deeply intertwined with my creative process and the materials I work with. 


Basta: Does your focus on sustainability also translate to engaging with communities?

Indy: Yes, my focus on sustainability definitely extends to engaging with communities. Recently, I curated the first Bio(me) exhibition for Melbourne Design Week. Bio(me) is a group show exploring the intersection of art, design, material innovation, and sustainability. It responds to urgent conversations about environmental responsibility and showcases artists who are rethinking systems of waste and exploring the use of biomaterials. Works in the show incorporate materials such as mycelium, kelp, food waste, textile offcuts, rubber, plastic waste, mud, and other salvaged or organic matter. Alongside that, I started Biolab, a workshop series inviting participants to explore biomaterials through play and sensory engagement. I teach participants how to make their own biomaterials using algae-based recipes. It's a space where experimentation is encouraged, and learning happens through hands-on, messy, and collaborative making.


Basta: On your website you acknowledge that your work is created on the stolen land of the Wurundjeri people of the Kulin nation. Could you share more about how this acknowledgement influences your work and your relationship with the land you source your materials from?

Indy: Acknowledgement is something I return to often, it’s an ongoing practice and a reminder to reflect on whose land I’m working on, and how I engage with it. When I work with foraged or natural materials, I try to do so with care and intention, never taking more than I need, and always staying open to learning. Kelp’s Last Light is a lamp made from bull kelp, created with awareness of its cultural significance, especially to the Palawa people of Lutruwita/Tasmania, who have long used bull kelp to craft water carriers with respect for the natural world. I don’t claim to hold that knowledge but respect it deeply and hold it with care. The sustainable relationships First Nations people have with the country continue to shape the values behind my practice and inform the way I interact with materials and place.

Basta: I am drawn to your tactile archive of textiles in your Burn Book and am curious as to where you source these and how this process began.

Indy: Burn Book acts as a four-year archive of my textile designs and experiments. I’ve sourced the textiles from all over - charity shops, gifts from friends, some even found on the street and I’ve manipulated the textiles in various ways by burning, screen printing, growing, sewing, airbrushing and bleaching. Because so much of my work is about sensory connection, I wanted to give people a chance to physically engage with the textures that shape each of my artworks. So, at my solo exhibition, The Silence of Growing, I displayed the Burn Book alongside a table of wet and dry biomaterials. It gave visitors something tangible, a material companion to the surrounding artworks. 

Basta: Could you share with us more about your inaugural solo exhibition The Silence of Growing

Indy: The Silence of Growing was my first solo exhibition, and it marked a significant transition in my practice, moving away from fashion and into a broader design space. The theme of growing ran through the entire show; it was about the quiet, often unseen labour of transformation, how things shift and take form slowly, sometimes painfully. Because it was my first solo, I took it incredibly seriously. I made over 30 works and tried to build something that felt honest and immersive. The show was received with so much warmth, which I’m deeply grateful for. It taught me a lot about burnout, and about how far I can push myself. I tend to go all in, and this experience helped me better understand how to sustain myself through the intensity of making. Looking back, I’m really proud of what I created and what the show represented. 


Basta: A lot of your works, especially the Tilda Lamp and Hair Keyring, have an uncanny quality to them. Is this an intentional reference or inspiration from Surrealism? Besides drawing from nature, do you turn to art history or movements for inspiration?

Indy: I don’t usually start with a specific reference or concept, I let the materials lead the way. What I find and forage is what usually guides the prototype. Materials like hair, algae, kelp, or bacterial leather are often unpredictable, and I enjoy responding to their quirks and letting that shape the final piece. I can see how the connection to Surrealism might be made. I’m definitely drawn to things that feel dreamlike, odd, or uncanny, but I’m more interested in the feeling the viewer has. If something makes the viewer pause, shudder, laugh, or tilt their head, it’s working. 

Basta: I am intrigued by your biomaterial experiments, for example the hydrated algae showcased on your Instagram. Could you walk us through this process? Did you learn this process from someone or was it purely experimental?

Indy: The hydrated algae biomaterial began with a recipe I found online for algae yarn. I was curious about its potential, so I started experimenting and adapted the process to create a bioplastic sheet instead. It’s really fun to play with the material and see how it evolves with each tweak to the recipe. My process is very much guided by curiosity. For this piece, I used the same piping technique typically used to form yarn, but instead piped small charcoal-dyed polka dots, then surrounded them with tea-dyed material to form the piece together. 


Basta: What other biomaterials are you working with?

Indy: At the moment, I’m mainly working with algae-based biomaterials like agar agar, alginate, and bull kelp. I’m also experimenting with SCOBY leather, a kombucha byproduct that, when treated with oils, develops a leather-like texture. More recently, I’ve started working with human hair byproducts collected from my local hairdresser.

Basta: Where do you source these biomaterials?

Indy: Most of the food-grade materials I use, like agar agar and alginate, are surprisingly easy to source online. They’re often used in cooking, which makes them accessible and inexpensive. For scoby leather, I ferment my own kombucha in the studio and harvest the thick layer of scoby that forms on the surface. It’s a very slow process, each sheet takes over two months to grow and dry out. When it comes to sourcing bull kelp, I forage locally along the Victorian coastline, collecting what has naturally washed up and looks like it's in good condition. The hair comes from a salon that recently closed after many years of service. They have a collection of unused hair wefts in packaging that looks distinctly 80s, though I haven’t been able to find a date stamp. I like to imagine whose hair it might have been.


Basta: Are you currently working on a new experiment or is there an unfamiliar material or process you hope to experiment with in the future?

Indy: I’m continuing to work with human hair, exploring its sculptural potential. It’s such a personal material and is both delicate and strong which has been opening up interesting conversations. I’m also really interested in food waste materials like crushed eggshells and coffee grounds. Both are abundant and often overlooked, which makes me curious about how they can be transformed into something meaningful.


Basta: I imagine working with natural materials involves a lot of chance and unpredictability. How do you navigate and respond to these unexpected outcomes? Do you usually work with a specific outcome in mind, or prefer to let the materials guide you and lead to something unexpected?

Indy: I really enjoy the unpredictability of biomaterials, it’s one of the reasons I’m drawn to working with them. They have their own behaviour and I try to respond to that , letting the materials lead the way. They warp, shrink, crack, or change colour, and that’s often when the most interesting things happen. For me, the process is a collaboration with the material, It keeps things alive and surprising.


Basta: How do you navigate balancing creating something that is both artistic and functional - Is this a large challenge you face?

Indy: Making functional art definitely comes with more steps and a bit more quality control than if it were purely sculptural. But function is so often tied to sensory experience, so it’s something I work with rather than avoid. I like the idea that an artwork can live with someone, be used, held, worn. So while it can be more work to ensure the piece functions well, it also opens up more ways for people to connect with it.


Basta: Some of your works are available to purchase on your website. I am curious how you manage to ensure sustainability remains central after you sell pieces, for example with packaging / shipping as I imagine this can be difficult to control.

Indy: I use recycled or reused packaging wherever I can, from boxes to padding materials, and I work with carbon-neutral shipping services to help offset emissions. It’s not perfect, but I try to make every step as sustainable as possible.


Basta: What advice would you offer aspiring designers or artists who want to pursue sustainable practices but are perhaps concerned about the perceived higher costs or limitations of these?

Indy: I have found a lot of exciting, sustainable work actually comes from limitations. Restrictions can lead to innovation and makes you a better problem solver. It forces you to think creatively and often leads to more interesting outcomes. Sustainability is a process, not a product!