I heard the sad news on Friday afternoon that Gordon Crook (b. 1921) had died in Wellington earlier in the day.

I first met Gordon in Wellington in 1973, a year after he’d arrived in New Zealand from the UK. I’d won a competition set up by the National Bank for High School students from throughout the country (I was at Christchurch Boys’ High) to attend a week-long art workshop. Amongst the twenty or so attending I was one of three from Christchurch. Gordon, along with a number of other Wellington-based tutors, including Kate Coolahan and Brian Carmody, ran the workshops. It was a great opportunity and very memorable. Many years later, in 1997 when I opened Campbell Grant Galleries in Christchurch, I knew Gordon was an artist I wanted to exposure to local audiences.

Undoubtedly a gifted artist, Gordon is noted for his amazing tapestries, fabric banners, paintings, collages and playful, fluid screenprints. However, it was Gordon’s child-like enthusiasm and zest for life which truly engaged anyone who met him – a quality that never left him. His design skills were exceptional. A serious reader and a stunning correspondent, his communications (executed on an old typewriter with bold, coloured felt-pen alterations – words crossed-out and re-written in hand) were lively, deeply felt, always amusing. They were full of insightful observations of the world, his dreams and his aspirations, often with a touch of wisdom about the human condition. Collaged cards were a favourite, using his own photographs and found magazine imagery (many of mine with an erotic edge!). In the later years, visits to his delightful Aro Street home were memorable. My last visit, with my partner Mark, was in early January 2009. As always Gordon ‘presented’ afternoon tea in lovely china cups and, in this instance, we shared a delicious apple cake he’d made. Tea and cake – that famous English tradition – was a special time he enjoyed with close friends. And, if he was in the mood, one got to see a glimpse of his latest works … but not always!

With works in public galleries and private collections throughout the country, and numerable notable commissions (Warren & Mahoney buildings: The Chancery in Washington and the Fowler Centre in Wellington) Gordon’s contribution to the visual arts in this country, and overseas is substantial.

Gordon’s sense of questioning – not only about the world but about himself – was always present. His laughter, energy and wonderful smile remain with me.

Grant Banbury
26 August 2011

One guardian only, O son, had this land,
The Kura-nui, the bird of Rua-kapanga.
Destroyed by your ancestor, by Tamatea, with subterranean and supernatural fire,
The fire of Mahuika, brought to this world by Maui.
Thus were they driven to the swamps and perished;
Thus was the species lost, O son (1)

Mystery surrounds the moa. Questions concerning its extinction abound. And in a land as primordial, rugged and vast as New Zealand it is entirely possible that parts of the moa population, sensing danger ducked into hiding, waiting to come back at some point in the future as a harbinger of a new age. Certainly, in Jane Zusters’ eponymous work Return of the Moa, moa seems to be making its way back to the surface via a maze of aquifers that spread across the large unstretched canvas having, perhaps the moa escaped down a tomo (cave entrance) to avoid the fire of Mahuika – indeed the myth the poem refers to describes the moa as bird nearly impossible to trap or capture. The supernatural fire can be read as destructive fire of humankind that destroyed the Guardian of the Land – the moa.

Geological and archaeological processes are suggested in Return of the Moa, the work portrays a subterranean cross section of terra firma, earthen red paint is layered, mirroring the strata and accreted sediment. Such processes embody the passing of time. The eons of involved earthly formation stand in stark contrast with the relatively short period of time humans have inhabited the earth, consuming resources as they go. If the moa reappears, the land may once again have its guardian, and in conjunction with its restored dominion a more natural state of being may be realised. A state where the environment is prized and birdlife is treasured. In the Return of the Moa / A Wry Look at the Future, Zusters attends to this very belief – a belief deeply connected with the threat to water in the South Island.

Wai Wurri, a portmanteau of Maori-New Zealand English vernacular can be read as Why Worry? Or alternatively Water Worry, and continues Zusters’ clever subversion of environmental discourse. The work itself is ambiguous, white striations that could be tears or tears mark the canvas, You Are Not An Island You Know and Not An Island use similar markings, though in these two works the patches stretch out to reference islands in a body of water, moving Zusters closer to a direct representation of landscape. All the works in The Return of the Moa engage with the landscape whether in its altered state, or its original form. And throughout the paintings the moa stencil hovers on the edge, intent on re-entering the fray, a messiah in our time of need.

While there are messages to be read in Zusters’ work, as there has been for the duration her prolific and illustrious career, her paintings are just as much about the process of painting: an exploration of a medium that seems to hold endless discoveries. The grids of her earlier work have collapsed and the canvas now integrates numerous disparate elements reflecting a more holistic worldview. An environment where the link between cause and effect is unmediated, where chaos occurs in a system in flux.

The system is represented in Waimakiriri, Our River, Our Lives, where the labyrinthine lines that divide the canvas can be read as drains diverting water from the surrounding flora and fauna to feed the insatiable irrigation appetite. Outlines of birds long dead are rendered in UV paint, thus under the right light (at the right time) the birds will glow seemingly returning from their slumber. While the birds are stencilled in – concrete, scientifically accurate specimens –the surrounding areas, in contrast, receive a looser, more expressive treatment. Splatters and drips add a gesture quality to the works suggestive of all over painting, indicative of an energetic, passionate working style, an element that has been ever-present in Zusters’ work. As was reported almost thirty years ago in an interview with Rhondda Bosworth in Art New Zealand, (2)

The point that I find most fruitful to work from’ she says, ‘is that between what I intend and what happens. There is a point at which I don’t know what is going to happen. In the best things, you have this merging of what is intended and what happens. There is a point at which I don’t know what is going to happen. It’s being in touch with one’s unconscious self. My work quite often has elements in it I don’t initially understand myself.

There is a harmonious combination of form and feeling throughout Zusters’ practice, which has retained the visual qualities of her earlier photographic work, one need only think of I’d Rather be Swimming, to identify the aesthetic connection. In both there is an overwhelming sensuality that comes through first in the textuality – scratches, paint applied light and airy and dark. And then in the palette – reds and blacks play off greens and blues. Our Rivers, Our Lives is a celebration of azure saturation: the blue of a summer horizon frames the sapphire of the deepest river. Such lyricism is not an exaggeration; the words are necessary to describe the poetics of Zusters’ colour. As Philip Guston once remarked, ‘Look at any inspired painting. It’s like a gong sounding, it puts you in a state of reverberation.’ (3)The spiritual dimension should not be ignored, one need only think of Barnett Newman, or closer to home, Judy Millar, Gretchen Albrecht or Jane Zusters to understand the power of paint. It may just be that the sounding of the gong is the call to the moa to……
[1] From Transactions of the NZ Institute, Volume 48, 1916.
[2] Rhondda Bostworth, Jane Zusters, Art New Zealand, Number 17, Spring 1980.
[3] Philip Guston in Jonathan Fineberg, Art Since 1940, Strategies of Being, Prentice Hall, Upper Saddle River, 2000, p.504.

return of the moa

we cloned that moa DNA
they’re running round again
the oils all gone
life’s rather raw
we get our tucker
from those moa
dairy cows have killed the plains
there aint no water
but we’ve got moa

Jane Zusters

Dr. Anne Kirker, who recently viewed the new works in Blair’s studio in San Pedro on the
edge of LA, says there are “…some departures to what is now the practice of an artist in her
prime…For this artist, like many others, creative expression is the summation of a maelstrom
of influences brought about by a change in living situation, which provides a new iconography,
but also memories…travel undertaken, encounters made, and all the sensations involved
in engaging with early 21st century life. The paintings coming out of the San Pedro studio
are hence predictably dynamic and challenging… There is a strong linear pulse to Blair’s
compositions nowadays as though the painted sweeps of squeegee, the fine lattice webs and
the spare spray-gun tracks, work as a dense journey. Whether single or in diptych form, these
canvases take you into a terrain that simultaneously evokes the senses, not only of sight but of
music and sound, of the crackle of electronics, or the brute force of industry piercing the air”.¹
Blair uses maps and grids as a motif in her work, which reflect landscapes and as she
explains: “it is a way to become acquainted with foreign lands”. In her new series these
map-like compositions reference an aerial viewpoint of urban landscapes, from the industrial
port town San Pedro, (the southern part of Los Angeles) “where the 110 freeway meets the
Pacific Ocean”. This is a new gritty working environment for Blair, perhaps tempered with
remembered snowcapped mountainscapes of New Zealand. One thing is certain this cacophony
of multiple urban influences and visual sensations are completely captivating in this emphatic
new series of work.

(1) Dr Anne Kirker, Auckland, April 2010 – Email to Warwick Henderson Gallery

The first comprehensive survey exhibition of this New Zealand sculptor who came to attention in the 1977 as part of the Christchurch Arts Festival, by re-enacting the crucifixion of St Andrew (itself a re-enactment of Christ’s crucifixion). He was naked. He was tied to a wooden cross. As Drummond later told Art New Zealand, “As much as anything else it made people think about the role of witnessing. It wasn’t nice. But then it wasn’t supposed to be.” Coca Gallery has never seen anything like it since.

Focusing on the period between 1980 and 2010, this chalenging exhibition explores Andrew Drummond’s diverse practice, which spans performance art, sculpture, installation, drawing, photography and technology.

Drummond is renowned for producing engaging and dynamic large-scale mixed-media works that explore themes relating to the land and the human body, machines and movement. The exhibition features a major new kinetic sculpture installed in the foyer. His historic influences are Len Lye, Marcel Duchamp and that artist shaman Joseph Beuys who traveled to the USA in the same cage as a coyote.

Drummond’s home and studio is a converted power station between Christchurch’s Heathcote River and the railway tracks – on their way to the port of Lyttelton. Drummond can turn a dirty , lump of coal into something meteoric.
Go and see for yourself this best show in ages.

What is the political role of the artist? What is our function? Why do we do what we do, and what do fellow artists and non-artists look for in our work? It would appear the National Government wants to fast track dams and water irrigation for intensive farming. Artists for save our water is a group of artists who make art to draw attention and initiate dialogue around water issues. Their latest exhibition is very timely as the Government has torpedoed its own flagship water reform group and done away with the role of Environment Canterbury in managing Canterbury water.

The Government legislation on water conservation orders passed under urgency has sent a torpedo into the Government-backed national forum working on water management reform.

The Government’s legislation to replace Environment Canterbury includes provisions that reduce the statutory protection of iconic rivers, opening them up for dams and irrigation use.

The water bodies immediately affected are the Rakaia, Rangitata and Ahuriri Rivers and Lakes Coleridge and Ellesmere, along with the application for protection of the Hurunui River, which was awaiting a hearing in the Environment Court.
“Changing the rules for water conservation orders was not needed to fix any problems at Environment Canterbury. This Bill was used as cover to smuggle in a change in the law equivalent to allowing mining in national parks,” Ecologic executive director Guy Salmon said.

He awa reo : rivertalk

‘We are a group of artists who got together to make an exhibition about the Waimakariri River. Canterbury water belongs to all of us. We love our rivers but their water is being sucked up into irrigators and our rivers are varnishing. This is a sad day for our rivers and us all .We are worried that our rivers are disappearing into central pivot irrigators and that Canterbury’s braided rivers are becoming toxic trickles. The over allocation of our river flows for irrigation results in poor water quality, low oxygen content, high bacterial counts, high turbidity and a substrate masked by mud and silt. Canterbury’s lowland rivers are polluted to the point where they are unsafe to swim in or drink from because of ongoing faecal contamination.This is the first time a private company Central Plains Water has been given the water rights that belong to us all” says artist Sally Hope

Water is a hot topic in Canterbury these days. Water has been called the “new gold” and right now there is a conflict between commercial exploitation of our water resources and the effects on our environment.
This is the second Artists for save our water project. This time at the Chamber Gallery, Rangiora comprising Mark Adams, Nigel Brown, Linda James, Sally Hope, Sam Mahon, Margaret Ryley, Ramonda Te Maiharoa, Irene Schroder, Becky Turrell, Ben Woollcombe and Jane Zusters. Sponsored by The Malvern Hills Protection Society and Alpine Jets in March 2009 these artists journeyed the Waimakariri River seeking to gain understanding of the effects of the proposed Central Plains.Water Irrigation Scheme and inspiration for this exhibition.

At the time the artists made this journey, it was proposed to build a giant earth dam and flood the Waianiwaniwa Valley. On October 30, 2009 Environment Canterbury gave Central Plains Water, a private company, consent to take water from the Waimakariri and Rakaia rivers for irrigation on the Central Canterbury Plains. Waianiwaniwa Valley farmers are delighted that their valley will not be flooded but a private company still got the water rights. This eclectic group of artists celebrates the Waimakariri River through their art.

HOMAGE TO DON PEBBLES WHO DIED RECENTLY IN CHRISTCHURCH AT THE AGE OF 88. He was a great artist and a great human being in a world where seldom do the 2 things go together.

Reviewed by Jamie Hanton

Looking out Ramonda Te Maiharoa’s digital doors to the Waimakariri River and seeing the spectre of dairy farming beside the untouched scene undoubtedly prompts those with any interest in their land to begin re-evaluating their attitude to the precarious status of the region’s natural resources. The clear as crystal montage and the rest of the work in He awa reo gives a glimpse of a possible future and are a catalyst for questions to be asked of those in positions of power and of citizen bystanders.
‘Protest art’ carries a rather loose definition, as much for its range of media as its historically vast number of messages. Crucially, The River Talk Artists capture a number of voices and perceptions with an eclectic group show that comprises an array of disciplines. Work from Canterbury school children has also been included creating a truly representative show.

At its most successful, an exhibition of a dissenting nature can crystallise information and still remain impassioned. Better yet, they can provide a forum for voices that could potentially go unheard. The gurgling and rushing Waimakariri, while voluble, often goes unnoticed in the din of a debate. At times it needs those with oesophagi to speak for it. He awa reo amplifies the rumble of the river; with the hope that in the future the remark, “The people don’t even know it’s being given away” in Jane Zusters’ video work cannot be uttered.

Despite the range and variety of media there is a unified message and common thematic dichotomy running throughout the show, simply put, what we have now and what we will have should the Central Water Scheme go ahead. Linda James’ Waterfall series has its aesthetic roots in Van der Velden’s Otira Gorge works, as well as a geographical connection, the Waimakiriri begins its journey above the plains in the Otira Gorge.

It is a sign that attitudes to the primacy and beauty of water as a vital part of Aotearoa have persisted over the course a century. Though in place of Van der Velden’s romantic darkness is joyous illumination, sun cast across the scene. Sally Hope’s small oil canvasses also revel in the light, as flecks of dusky pinks and murky khaki are reflected in the river; a kaleidoscope of perspectives. Her series presents a collection of rivers emphasising the plurality of the river, its many different things to many people. At once a place of recreation, of beauty and a habitat to all manner of creatures. Sam Mahon’s George and Irene Mura Schroder’s Threatened Mudfish make the living connection explicit. The nationally endangered Canterbury Mudfish, whose habitats have been destroyed as waterways have disappeared, becomes a tangible symbol of what may be lost if the proposed scheme goes ahead.

With irrigation comes the threat of a withering river flow; diametrically opposed is Jane Zuster’s invigorating Watertalk in which blueness and all its connotations are celebrated, a symbol of purity, hydration but also deep melancholy.

Indeed, the thought of such deprivation is emotionally charged, Nigel Brown’s black singleted farmer is a portrait of conflicted sentiments as he stands in front of the land, looking away, arms folded in a practiced staunchness. Brown continues to successfully question and subvert long held symbols of kiwi-ness. The historic backbone of the New Zealand export market, farmers have in part the status of economically proclaimed guardians of the land, and potential executors of its Will. That their position in the debate is ultimately torn is spelled out in Brown’s We are water which states ‘if we abuse rivers, we abuse ourselves’ thus tying together the river’s life-giving properties and its living and thriving properties as a natural entity in and of itself.

Emphasising this point is Ben Woollcombe’s delicate watercolour Finding her way, Waimakiriri; an illustration of the will of the river, scything gracefully through the land. Irene Mura Schroder’s ceramic works capture a glorious wetness unusual for their medium, and the direct juxtaposition of Margaret Ryley’s Fragments of a river, a porcelain and stoneware work that exudes a more familiar arid texture, is striking.

Becky Turrell’s Path of Light stretches from one end of the gallery to another, a winding ochre track of vinyl that leads to Albert McCarthy’s Guardianship (Kaitiakitanga), which, in unison with Nigel Brown’s We Are Sorry invokes the roles and responsibilities the wider community has in protecting the land. Mark Adams’ moody composite photographic work of five views across the plains shows irrigation canals, but these artificial implements are dwarfed by the magnitude of their surroundings, yet there is an uneasy sense that such slashing will continue. However, there is a suggestion in the vastness of the scene that in this conflict there is not a singular path into the future, but options.

And this is the great success of He awa reo, through the high individual standards that the participating artists set for themselves the works collectively open the debate regarding the Central Water Plains Scheme to a larger audience, provoking viewers with works of great depth and clever aesthetic contrast.