Manners of Speaking / Te Pūkoro o Tāne catalogue

Manners of Speaking Te Pūkoro o Tāne Geoff Wilson Gallery, NorthTec, Whangārei Aotearoa New Zealand 21st February - 1st July 2020

“Ata Haere” (Go Slow / Travel with care) by Cle Tukuitonga. Sign design and digital print, 2019. Taratara Maunga (Table mountain) Otangaroa, The Far North, is in the distance. When we speak of the world in metaphor, it is a reminder that whatever we say is a translation of the worlds around us. Over 50 works in diverse media on themes of proverbs and sayings by artists based in Aotearoa New Zealand and beyond, curated by Sonja van Kerkhoff with 3rd year NorthTec Bachelor of Applied Art students. Cover image: still Alicia Courtney, Moerewa, The Far North from the 12 min Andrea Gardner, Whanganui video https:// Ashleigh Taupaki, Auckland tinyurl.com/ Brenda Liddiard, Auckland mannersofspeaking Brit Bunkley, Whanganui showing 5 students Carolyn Lye, Karetu, The Far North with Te Ara ki Catrina Sutter, Russell / Kororāreka Rangihoua: The Way Chiara Rubino, Matera, Italy to Rangihoua, 2018, Cle Tukuitonga, Otangaroa, The Far North by Yllwbro. Scallop Elaina Arkeooll, London, UK shells, brown string, Giacomo Silvano, Irsina, Italy moko adhesive. Hilda Simetin, Auckland Courtesy the artists Jacqueline Wassen, Maastricht, The Netherlands and Mokopōpaki, Auckland. Music in the video is by Craig Denham. 1

Photographic print, Giacomo Silvano. 28 x 21 cm. The town is his home town, Irsina, Italy. Jamie Larnach, Auckland Jarred Taylor, Whangārei Jian Yiwei, China / The Netherlands Jeff Thomson, Helensville Joas Nebe, Hamburg, Germany John Hoby, Millwater John Mulholland, Warkworth Martje Zandboer, The Hague, The Netherlands Naomi Roche, Waikato Lipika Sen & Prabhjyot Majithia, Auckland / India Peter Scott, Kerikeri Piet Nieuwland, Whangārei Robert Brown, Whangaparaoa Sam Melser, Auckland Sonja van Kerkhoff, Kawakawa / The Hague Tash Nikora, Whangārei Tracy Singer, Auckland Ursula Christel (Mokopōpaki), Warkworth Yllwbro (Mokopōpaki), North Island 2

“Talking Sticks” by Carolyn Lye. Korari stems, acrylic paint. Middle: “Ogen zijn de spiegels der ziel” by Martje Zandboer. Photographic film on a Zeeland oyster shell. Right wall: “Te Ara ki Rangihoua: The Way to Rangihoua” 2018, by Yllwbro. Scallop shells, brown string, moko adhesive. Courtesy the artists and Mokopōpaki, Auckland. 3

Whakataukī is Cultural Capital The Māori Demi-god Tāne climbed, so one version goes, to collect three baskets of knowledge, but just what did he slip into his hip pocket? A type of knowledge that catches us by surprise, perhaps? In many cultures proverbs are not just niceties but used daily, and chosen judiciously for simultaneous instruction and reflection. Saying that art is all about metaphor is nothing new, but in the “Manners of Speaking | Te Pūkoro o Tāne” exhibition, my aim was to show the potency of metaphor in action. The parallax between the two titles of this show – one in English, the other in Māori – being an example (with thanks to Mokopōpaki). The simultaneity of differing perspectives began with the assistance of the 3rd year NorthTec Bachelor of Applied Art students. I was a stranger to them and yet they willingly participated with me in the gallery as participants and assistants in hanging this exhibition. For the work, “Te Ara ki Rangihoua: The Way to Rangihoua,” five students each wore one of the moko kauae (the female New Zealand Māori chin tattoo) bearing scallop shells, to determine the hanging height of each shell, as instructed by the anonymous sibling collaboration, Yllwbro. Each student’s first name was pencilled above each shell. Each name was a trace of the subjective selfhood as a blurring between artist/ curator/assistant and the artwork itself. The adjacent text, also part of the work, spoke of the shell as a Camino de Santiago pilgrimage accessory, and of Rangihoua in the Bay of Islands - the site for the first Christian mission in Aotearoa New Zealand. 4

It was the story too, of a young girl, Tarore, who learnt to read in Māori at a mission school in Matamata. Her story was abruptly halted in 1836, when she was killed and the Māori copy of the Gospel of Luke that she wore in a kete around her neck was lost. But the story was continued by her father chief Ngakuku (Ngāti Hauā), who chose ‘The Way’ of forgiveness. In this context each moko kauae is a pathway and each shell is a vessel for the transmission for change. “A little bait catches a large fish” by Jamie Larnach. Acrylic on canvas, 77x51cm. Left wall: “The Kiss” by Sam Melser. Oil and mixed media on canvas, 106 x 167 cm, artefacts, laminations and other materials Detail:“Chains of Flowers” by Caroline Lye. Harakeke (flax), copper wire, thread. See page 20 5

Another shell in the exhibition hails from the Dutch “Ogen zijn de province of Zeeland by Hague-based Martje Zandboer. spiegels der ziel” Inside an oyster shell is a trick of the eye. A convex (eyes are the mirrors image on a concave shape. And an eye photographed in the of the soul) by Martje Hague, hung on a wall in a gallery on the other side of the Zandboer. globe, now, in the 12 minute video Photographic film on https://youtu.be/KayPhKEcdGQ, Dutch Zeeland seen, virtually, everywhere. oyster shell. Photograph by Jonathan Hemsworth. 6

A handful of whakataukī (proverbs) in Māori and in English were arranged along the walls so that reading these, just like reading any of the texts adjacent to artworks, functioned as pathways as well as explanations. One of a cluster of small images and objects featured a photograph of “668” which are 668 handmade ceramic containers by Naomi Roche, one for each person lost to suicide in Aotearoa New Zealand in 2018. Like the whakataukī: “He kokonga whare, e kitea. He kokonga ngākau, e kore e kitea.” “The corners of a house can be seen, but not the corners of the heart,” one cannot see each vessel’s corners. And like the proverb, this visualization of loss in metaphor is a potent manner of speaking. Andrea Gardner’s photograph, “Animal Picnic” Brit Bunkley’s video “Geolith” and Jeff Thomson’s corrugated iron, “The Kiwi That Flew” are some of the many other works in this exhibition in which accumulated knowledge is shared sideways. In Thomson’s sculpture, piecemeal silkscreened newsprint clippings about the pioneering aviators Richard Pierce and Jean Batton in-form the corrugations. Form and surface embody a parallax. The following texts by some of the students demonstrate that ways of speaking obliquely are cultural capital. That what Tāne slid into his pocket is as vital as all the treasures of accumulated knowledge. 1 Sonja van Kerkhoff footnote 1: This references the Māori story of Tāne collecting baskets of knowledge from the heavens. Detail: photograph of “668” by Naomi Roche. Handmade ceramic vessels. 7

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Left to Right: “One Night Stand” by John Mulholland, oak sections and wedges, 142 x 25 x 25 cm. Three corrugated sculptures by Jeff Thomson, “Chook,” “Bouquet,” and “The Kiwi that Flew.” “Inorganic Collection” by Ursula Christel. Garden table, mirror, chain, vintage metronome, 86 x 69 x 69 cm. The metronome ticks and rings irregularly. Far Right: “My place amongst others” by John Mulholland. Painted macrocarpa pole construction, 274 x 24.5 x 7.5 cm Left and Right: “The Kiwi That Flew” by Jeff Thomson. Silkscreened, corrugated and rivetted aluminium. 9

Jeff Thomson is nationally known for using corrugations as a feature in his sculpture. “The Kiwi That Flew” uses aluminium to create a corrugated kiwi as light as a feather. This kiwi is adorned with silkscreen newspaper cuttings chronicling the life and times of New Zealand aviation pioneers Jean Batten and Richard Pearse. It is a testament to the unshakeable convictions of New Zealanders that nothing is impossible – even kiwis flying. Paige Pollington 10

“Geolith” is an engaging 3D mapping video with text commentary. It pulls the viewer close to two remote desert sites in the Mohave and Navaho territories with the surreal “dream-flying” feeling of having just entered a video game. Is the imagery documentary or fantasy? Reality worries were allayed by a clip of footage of a handful of quad-bikes, travelling at speed over the terrain, ripping up clouds of dust. Logic dictates therefore, that the Blythe Intaglios (anthropomorphic geoglyphs) are also real. My mind screams, “Stop desecrating these valuable archeologic sites!” Is this Mohave desert site proof that we are not alone in the universe? Why is that question so often asked? How do these relate to other geoglyphs in far-flung corners of our Earth - Peru and South Australia for instance? Existential enquiry is then interrupted by the next segment of Bunkley’s video, which ends with a biting commentary on colonisation as a moon rolls past. Tracey Willms Deane 11

A Little bird told me I see a bird roughly sketched in clay sitting in a corner seemingly eyeing the show with a wide perspective. One eye is raised, contemplating all going on in the gallery space. I interpret it as male because of the splashes of bright blues, yellows and greens. Online I found that Maastricht based Dutch artist, “Jacqueline (1968) has no ordinary fingers like you and me, but rather ten scissors, pins and fine brush tips, that change everything they touch, give them a twist and suddenly make them unmistakably ‘Jacqueline’.” - Jacques Creusen, 2011, http://www.jacquelinewassen.nl/cv/ Ros Craw Right: Ceramic bird form by Jacqueline Wassen. Top Left Page: “Geolith” by Brit Bunkley. 5 min. 46 sec, video. Photographs by Jonathan Hemsworth. 12

Elaina Arkeooll’s “Hung Out To Dry” addresses the collision between social classes through the medium of ‘everyday’ items. A photograph of her tea bags strung like bunting across a grimy London street is juxtaposed on the high-end brand Country Road shopping bag. This speaks of this disparity between the upper and lower classes. The work in its simplicity manages to evoke feelings of discomfort at society’s culpability in this wealth disparity and asks where you are placed in this continuum. Paige Pollington “Hung Out To Dry” by Elaina Arkeooll. Digital photo of her London teabag string installation on a New Zealand designer carrier bag, per her instructions. 13

This triptych of woven painted paper reminds me of being in a half-awake state, not quite fully aware of the surroundings, or of being in a moving vehicle and seeing the familiar flying by. But will it morph like a kaleidoscope into something new? Daniel Cassidy Above: Detail: “There’s No Iron So Hard That Rust “Fluidity of corrugated tools Won’t Fret It; and There’s No Cloth So by Jeff Thomson. Fine That Moths Won’t Eat It.” Memory” (triptych), Scottish Proverb by Hilda Simetin. Mixed media, In removing the solidity of these tools, woven and Jeff Thomson has turned them into painted paper. aesthetic objects. 60 x 42 cm. The see-through corrugations are Photographs by reminders of the value of tools for the Jonathan people who use them. Hemsworth. Connie Davis 14

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The still life photograph of dead and living animals, fruit, flowers and books has a painterly sense that references Romanticism. The image is cluttered yet there is elegance in the moody shadows and the beam of light falling on the pink and white flowers in the middle of the image which also draws attention to the beauty of the objects among the deceased. This Lambda print is a digital print produced using Durst’s Lambda machine– a photographic printing machine that uses RGB (red, green and blue) lasers merged into one beam to produce digital c-type prints on light-sensitive silver halide materials. This print process gives the image a fine art feel with an aesthetic lustre, colour, and tonality. On close inspection, there is a silver sheen that is just exquisite. Alanah Stigsdottir Left: Detail: “Animal Picnic” by Andrea Gardner. Archival Lambda print, 1 out of edition of 3. 82 x 57 cm. The book in the photo, titled: Please Remember When My Heart is Opened, is paraphrased from a 1919 letter by Katherine Mansfield. The other book title, Animals Make Us Human, is by animal scientist, Temple Grandin. Right: “The Nightmare Room” by Joas Nebe. Video, 4 min. 50 sec. Photograph by Jonathan Hemsworth. 16

I te huringa kōmuri, e haramā te whenua i te kēhua On looking back, the land was covered white with ghosts. The cleared landscape and misty atmosphere remind me of what it's like to wake up and feel lost about where you're going, leaving you alone and in thought. The smoky fog and mist also remind me of how it feels to go for a run in the ghostly morning, at peace with yourself, thinking of the potential for the day. Natasha Tornquist 17

Left: “Ghosts” by Ashleigh Taupaki. Photographic print, 42 x 59.4 cm. Muehlenbeckia Free Form Long twigs are woven within a circle that resembles a flattened bird’s nest. It reminded me of forceful destruction, and made me feel sad. Due to it being hung high on the wall, it also reminded me of a wreath, of remembrance, longing, and treasuring something lost. Amber-Maree Carroll Right:“May the spring bloom beneath your “Muehlenbeckia Free Form” by Carolyn Lye. feet” by Lipika Sen & Prabhjyot Majithia 1 metre diameter. 30 second animation. The title is a wish and a prayer on 18 overcoming borders. Edition 1 of this work was created, showcased and auctioned as part of the Frameworks project to support the NZ Asylum Seekers Trust. This is the Second Edition of 3.

Tash Nikora’s work “Kavalli” refers to the Cavalli islands, a small group of islands located on the northern east coast of New Zealand. These islands were once inhabited by the Ngāti Kura hapu (subtribe/tribe). All the islands are currently managed by the New Zealand Department of Conservation (DOC), except for one that is owned by foreign nationals. Nikora, of Ngāti Kura descent, has created Kavalli as thoughtful commentary on this. The letter C, not used in the Māori alphabet, has been reverse- colonialized by the letter K. The work references land tied up in knots with a complicated history and an uncertain future. Briar Piercy “Tomorrow will never be the same” by Yiwei Jain & Sonja van Kerkhoff, reminds people of what has happened in 2020 due to COVID-19, around the world and in New Zealand. Each click activates a colour- changing virus, which multiplies and spreads, mutating the original Mondrian image. Liam Astbury Top left:”Kavalli” by Tash Nikora. Ink on Fabriano, 30 x 30 cm. Left:“Tomorrow will never be the same” by Yiwei Jain & Sonja van Kerkhoff. Screenshot after 15 min of activation by a user. Made in Flash. 19

Sam Melser uses his paintings as a stage to display fictional interactions in constructed contexts. In this case, one of his abstract expressionist paintings with collage and written phrases referencing French psychiatrist, Frantz Fanon’s “The Wretched Of the Earth” is arranged, according to his instructions, along with an assemblage of objects and images on the wall and gallery floor - including the book “Higher Education of Women” by Helene Lange. The whole seems “The Kiss” by Sam Melser. Painting and objects. “Chains of Flowers” by Carolyn Lye. Harakeke (NZ flax). to present aspects of human “Chains of Flowers” by Carolyn Lye nature from the prehistoric to Small threaded elements, often fragile on their own, today, particularly in relation to combine to form strong structural pieces. Lye’s colonialism and feminism. soft flowers chained together segue into a striking vertical column, positioned in relief from the wall Melissa Bickers with the shadows enhancing the depth of the piece. Art mimics nature and multiple pieces add up to a whole that is greater than its parts. Tracey Willms Deane “The Aqueerium” an installation of objects and audible recordings inside a tent one crouches into by Jarred Taylor feels a bit like a shelter. It looks at the year 2027 and the question posed is, “Will there will be artifacts, government issue ration boxes, books on philosophy, history, psychology, spirituality or novels? Will there even be marine creatures? What it is that might happen in 2027?” Liam Astbury 20

A manner of speaking - for one who does not speak “Stop Making Sense” from Ursula Christel’s “Mother Love: He Oha nā Te Whaea”series, features her son who was born with Angelman Syndrome (AS), a neuro-genetic disorder. Her son cannot speak and like many with AS, he relies on a wheelchair. In this painting, her son is pushed to the side behind a skewed frame, within other frames. The mother figure beyond is less delineated in washes of fine lines and newspaper clippings. The half-circle gold halo pulls the composition back towards the centre and back into the bigger picture – society. The halo references the mother and child imagery in western art, where there too, the son is foregrounded. The halo as symbol for the spiritual or transcendent, masks the individuality of the mother. However in this painting it is the thick black outer frame that is the main focus. It is container and barrier. The title references her son’s alternative relationality. Sonja van Kerkhoff “Muted” by Ursula Christel reminds me of playing scrabble with my grandma in the afternoons. The tiles are arranged in a circle to break away from the standard scrabble board and create a clock face that made me think of the saying “Time waits for no one.” Liam Astbury “Muted” 2018 by Ursula Christel, from the series, “Spell it out: Word Games Compendium.” Board, acrylic, craft letter, bamboo, Scrabble board, Scrabble block letters, PVA, sealant, spray paint, adhesive on board. Diameter 60 cm. Courtesy the artist and Mokopōpaki, Auckland. Photographs by Jonathan Hemsworth. 21

“Stop Making Sense” by Ursula Christel, 2018. Acrylic, oil, graphite, spray paint, newspaper, gold leaf, adhesive, sealant on board. plywood, spray paint, picture frames. 61 x 62 cm Courtesy the artists and Mokopōpaki, Auckland. Photograph Jonathan Hemsworth. 22

Texts: Alanah Stigsdottir, Amber-Maree Carroll, Briar Piercy, Connie Davis, Daniel Cassidy Liam Astbury, Natasha Tornquist, Melissa Bickers, Paige Pollington, Ros Craw, Sonja van Kerkhoff and Tracey Willms Deane. Photographs: Jonathan Hemsworth and Sonja van Kerkhoff Editing: Ursula Christel and Sonja van Kerkhoff Layout and Catalogue Design: Liam Astbury Thanks to Ellen Smith, Te Toi Te Pito (Arts Department, and the management of the Geoff Wilson Gallery, NorthTec, Whangārei, Aotearoa New Zealand. May 2021. “Buona e’ la neve che a suo tempo viene” ISBN 978-0-473-51543-0 Good is the snow that comes in its time Photograph 2020, Chiara Rubino, Matera, Italy.