These artists first picked up a brush in prison. It changed their lives

While she was in prison for manslaughter, Stacey Edwards found solace in an unexpected place: she joined a weekly art class and was soon painting daily.

“It was a form of escapism for me,” she says. “I was able to go in a place where it felt like I wasn’t in jail.”

Stacey Edwards, former prisoner and now artist, with Kent Morris, curator of the new show Black In-Justice and creative director of the Torch program. Credit: Justin McManus

The 45-year-old Taungurong and Boonwurrung woman was able to save enough money selling her pieces while incarcerated to buy a house, thanks to The Torch program, which helps Indigenous prisoners connect with their culture through art.

Edwards’ work will sit alongside some of this country’s top First Nations artists in a show opening this weekend at Heide, Blak In-Justice: Incarceration and Resilience.

Works exploring discrimination, policing of First Nations people, black deaths in custody, juvenile detention and more are on show by artists including Vernon Ah Kee, Destiny Deacon, Richard Bell, Mia Boe, Reko Rennie and Judy Watson.

Curated by Barkindji artist Kent Morris, creative director of The Torch program, it reflects pain and injustice, hope and resilience.

Artworks in Blak In-Justice at Heide.Credit: Justin McManus

Working with 800-odd prisoners a year, The Torch has operated in Victorian prisons since 2011. It has helped reduce rates of reoffending to about 19 per cent, compared with a national average of about 60 per cent. First Nations people represent less than 4 per cent of the population but account for 36 per cent of the prison population, the Commonwealth Closing the Gap 2024 Annual Report states.

The idea for the exhibition has been gestating for a long time, Morris says, and came from a deep sense of frustration. “We have the solution,” he says. “It’s not a problem that is unsolvable.”

Through The Torch, art becomes a lifeline, a way to process trauma, express emotions and envision a better future, he says. Prisoners, some of whom know little or nothing about their culture, are empowered by connecting and learning about it. Their artwork is sold through the organisation, which has a shop in Carlton, an online store and holds annual exhibitions, and 100 per cent of the sale price goes directly to the artist.

The Victorian Aboriginal Art Policy allows artists to earn income from their artwork while incarcerated. The Torch also provides support programs to prisoners after their release, which helps socially and economically.

Kent Morris in front of his mural called Ancestral Connections – The Ties That Bind in Brunswick. Credit: Justin McManus

Many prisoners have been disconnected from their culture as part of colonisation, Morris says, and often find themselves at a loss. Through The Torch, they can find those connections and “feel that sense of pride and like you belong in the world”.

“The support can’t stop at the prison gate, it has to continue on in the outside world. Without work or money, you’re incredibly vulnerable,” he says.

Artists’ work can also be licensed through the program, which is funded by the Victorian Department of Justice through Corrections Victoria, providing an additional income stream.

Blak In-Justice deliberately includes both well-known and emerging artists, those who have been in jail and those who haven’t.

“Artists commenting on this extraordinary issue that is such a great stain on the nation, it crosses all generations, all genders,” Morris says. “These voices have never been brought together in the one place at the one time.”

Criminalising Babies (2025) by Karla Dickens.Credit:

A powerful new work by Karla Dickens, Criminalising Babies (2025), features two children, aged eight and 10, wearing balaclavas. The minimum age for criminal responsibility across Australia is 10.

“Putting babies of that age in prison is just dumbfounding to me,” Dickens says.

“I spent time in Redfern and I would go out when the police were around harassing kids; they were provocative.

“Of course, not all kids are well behaved, but the way that they’re handled, the way that they’re treated, doesn’t promote good behaviour, or self-worth or being valued in a society – because sadly First Nations people in this country aren’t. I just find it horrifically right-wing and racist.

“People end up in jail, then their children suffer, their parents suffer, everyone in that family suffers.”

In recent years, NSW police have operated under an Aboriginal Strategic Direction policy document. Speaking in 2024 in response to concerns of racism within the force, Commissioner Karen Webb said police had committed significant resources towards Closing the Gap, including mandatory cultural awareness training for officers.

Now working two days a week as gallery manager for The Torch, Edwards continues to paint using her signature diamonds, as well as making more experimental works. She has five months left on parole.

“Learning culture is still a journey for me,” she says. “The Torch program has been life-changing. I don’t know what I would have done with my criminal past, being in prison for such a long time. All that has been essential because The Torch has been there for me.”

Blak In-Justice: Incarceration and Resilience runs from April 5 to July 20.