Check out Lux before it’s over!

Hey everyone, if you haven’t already, be sure to check out the Lux Light Festival in Wellington this weekend (tomorrow is the last night it will be on!).
You can find the map to the various art works in light smattered through central Wellington here, at the webpage:
http://lux.org.nz/

The Circular Ruins by Jorge Lus Borges

Tour of the Specious Present with Christina Barton

Those of you lucky enough to be in Wellington over the mid-trimester break should go to Christina Barton's tour of the Specious Present exhibition at the Adam Art Gallery tomorrow (Saturday, 29th August, 2pm). Barton is Director of the Adam and Curator for this exhibition, and will touch upon how each of the artists in the show speak to this notion of the 'present'. Click here for more information.

Adam Art Gallery Seminar Series: ‘Out of Step: Len Lye and Surrealism’ by Raymond Spiteri

By Anna Rigg

Last Thursday evening (20th August, 2015) Victoria University lecturer Raymond Spiteri presented his 2014 paper on Len Lye’s relationship to the surrealist movement in 1930s England.1 Lye himself generally objected to being ‘labelled’; the expatriate New Zealand artist (1901-1980) is often described as a maverick of the art world, not bound by any particular movement or medium.

Yet between 1936 and 1940, Lye regularly exhibited and published in surrealist contexts, such as his 1929 film Tusalava and the three works Lye contributed to the 1936 International Surrealist Exhibition in London (images 1-4). Such works seem to invite comparison to surrealist practice - formally, some of this work recalls the paintings of Miró, while the photograms, in their “experimentation with chance”, recall Man Ray.

Works such as these, which “come closest to a surrealist mode”, date from the late 1920s and early 1930s. By the time they were selected for the Surrealist Exhibition in 1936, Lye had moved on to other things; annoyed at his more recent work being passed over by the exhibition organisers, he wrote: “I nearly got angry with them but why should I educate utter know-all surrealiste [sic] strangers”. Lye did not speak French and his knowledge of French surrealism at this time was limited at best; the parallels between his work c. 1930 and Surrealism “are perhaps more significant in hindsight”.

Lye and the surrealists certainly had interests in common, notably their shared engagement with primitivism. Art historian Tyler Cann, tentatively writing Lye into a history of surrealism (or writing surrealism into a history of Len Lye), described it not as a movement but more broadly “as a set of formal and semiotic operations involving, for example, doubling and fragmentation that challenge the perception of a stable body image”.2 Much of Lye’s work undoubtedly fits this description. But here Spiteri raises a key question: can this “set of formal and semiotic operations” really be said to be specific to surrealism? There is very little to distinguish the purview of surrealism, defined in this way, from that of the modernist avant-garde in general.

In other words, did Lye in the 1930s engage with surrealism specifically or was he simply a modernist? The two are not always easily distinguished; Spiteri leans toward the latter option. Lye moved in modernist circles, exhibiting with the Five and Seven Society and designing book covers for Nancy Cunard’s Hours Press. The image above, showing the front window of the Hours Press, for Spiteri “exemplifies the question of Lye’s relation to surrealism”. Displayed in the left-hand window are two book covers designed by Lye (Graves’s Ten Poems More and Riding’s Four Unpublished Letters to Catherine). In the right-hand window are three surrealist publications (the Dec 1929 issue of La révolution surréaliste, a surrealist political pamphlet titled Au Grand Jour, and Louis Aragon’s French translation of The Hunting of the Snark). The curtain dividing the two displays is amaro bark cloth from Oceania, an object of desire for Cunard, Lye and the surrealists alike.

In its juxtaposition of Lye’s work with that of the surrealists, the photograph suggests both their “close proximity” and the “distance” between the two. Though moving in related circles, neither party was particularly aware of the other’s significance, or interested in the finer points of each other’s practice. The parallels between Lye’s practice and surrealist practice are interesting to trace; but ultimately they remain parallels rather than a traceable set of influences.

1 Originally presented at Geocritical: Art Association of Australia and New Zealand 2014 Annual Conference, University of Tasmania, 5-7 December 2014.

2 Tyler Cann, 'Surreal sight seer? Len Lye, mind, self and time’, in Len Lye, ed. Tyler Cann and Wystan Curnow, New Plymouth: Govett-Brewster Art Gallery; Len Lye Foundation, 2009, p. 64.

Image 1. Len Lye, Self Planting at Night (1930), photogram. Photo: Len Lye Foundation Collection and Govett-Brewster Art Gallery

Image 2. Eileen Tweedy, International Surrealist Exhibition (June 1936), view of the main gallery showing Lye’s Self Planting at Night (bottom left). Photo: artnet.com

Image 3. Len Lye, Snowbirds Making Snow (1936), oil on hardboard. Photo: Len Lye Foundation Collection and Govett-Brewster Art Gallery

Image 4. Len Lye, Marks and Spencer in a Japanese Garden (Pond People) (1930), photogram. Photo: Len Lye Foundation Collection and Govett-Brewster Art Gallery

Image 5. Anonymous photographer, front window of the Hours Press (c. 1929). Photo: Harry Ransom Center

Ihaia Puketapu

By Bhavana Bhim & Ella Steele

Ihaia Puketapu, a Wellington based wood carver and former Victoria University student gives us a glimpse into his artistic life and involvement within the community. His inherited carving skills are used to promote knowledge and development to youth groups in the Wellington region. Ihaia is currently working with BGI, the Wellington Boys’ and Girls’ Institute. Through teaching wood carving courses, he encourages youths to work together and learn necessary life skills to grow and become successful leaders. Ihaia’s collaboration with BGI offers us insight into the effect contemporary New Zealand art is having on today’s society.

Puketapu was born in Wellington and grew up in Waiwhetu.  He has a BA from Victoria University, specialising in Maori, Commerce, and Resource Management. After university he started working with young adults from CYF’s houses. His now retired uncle “Rangi Hete” was a master carver and taught Puketapu at his carving school in Waiwhetu.

Puketapu further developed his skills in his last year at Victoria University. He had gaps in his timetable which he used to take up his Uncle’s carving course. He looks up to his Uncle and thinks of him as a very successful artist. Ross Davis, one of the members from BGI (Boys and Girls Institute), approached Puketapu’s Marae looking for a carver to help them build a sculpture for their building project. Puketapu started working part time for BGI shortly after his artistic talent was recognised.

 BGI was founded in 1883 by a group of people linked to St John’s Church in Wellington. The church was looking for an organization that would benefit the younger community. Puketapu collaborated with them by running workshops for young people in woodcarving. Puketapu and his students helped carve the “Poutokomanawa,” (or Pou) which is a traditional pole at the centre of a Marae. Soon after this Puketapu was offered a full time job for a year working on the Poutokomanawa for BGI. They wanted a carving which drew on traditional Maori motifs and combined them with non-traditional motifs in order to represent BGI's history.

According to Puketapu, the carving is “a work in progress.”

“instead of the carving being traditional with Maori images it’s contemporary.”

The collaboration with BGI is a yearlong project. So far the carving depicts figures of importance to the history of BGI with images of mayors such as Sir George Troup and John Aitkin who contributed to the institute.

 One of the challenges that Puketapu faced with this sculpture was depicting western images and motifs. The designs on the wood show stylised figures with objects such as stop watches.

Traditionally, the Maori rule of thumb in carving the proportions of the body is that the head, torso and legs each take up a 3^rd of the figure. Puketapu had to play around with the depiction of western figures and objects to make the proportions realistic. In this situation, the artist stated,

 “The depiction of non-Maori objects are ‘semi-realistic, semi-abstract’, it’s a fusion.”

Puketapu mentioned that carving the Maori figures was easier, as there is a system of cuts made in the wood to project certain symbols, and he was trained in how to create shapes of figures in the traditional way.  However, according to Puketapu, there’s “much more thought” going into the other figures as they are more realistic in depiction. Puketapu combined Maori and Pakeha motifs onto the wood. There is a Celtic Presbyterian pattern which symbolises BGI’s connection to St John’s church, while the background on the side has interloping crescents called “Matakupenga” which signifies ‘interconnectedness.’ At the moment as the work is in progress, Puketapu is deciding on how he will finish the carving with his youth group.

 Apart from his community projects, Puketapu spoke about his interests in the arts. He is inspired by other carvers who turn their lives around, for instance, his uncle Hete who established the carving school to teach others. This inspires Puketapu to help young adults in the community. He is also inspired by the “big names” such as Dali and Da Vinci.

Puketapu pointed out that the carving market in New Zealand is changing and adapting. Before his uncle arrived, there were hardly any carvers at his Marae, but now there are many. There was not much work for carvers initially as it was a bartering system where they had to work for food rather than money. It is an expensive task to carry out traditional carving as there is a shortage of native timber which is very expensive today. Timber availability is an obstacle for carvers who struggle to obtain the correct materials. Apart from timber, the ability to carve with flat basic greenstone chisels that Puketapu’s ancestors used has changed. This is because for the last 150 years Maori adapted to metal tools which European settlers introduced.  Many carvers today are moving into traditional Maori tattooing. Puketapu pointed out that kiwis, who have no Maori ancestry are getting tattoos as part of a shared bi- cultural New Zealand identity and heritage.  Puketapu thinks this is “pretty cool”.

For more information on Puketapu and BGI visit the website: http://www.bgi.org.nz/BGI/Home.html

All quotes by Ihaia Puketapu, interview conducted by Bhavana Bhim and Ella Steele on Friday the 10^th of July 2015, Wellington NZ.

Exhibition at Thistle Hall (25th - 29th August)

Up and Adam recommends this exhibition/interactive live show at Thistle Hall - on this week. Including zines and performances (e.g. a Special Church of Worship performance by the Leader), it’ll be something pretty different and definitely worth checking out. 

'White Noise' Exhibition // Seraphine Pick // The Dowse Art Museum. Image by Bryar Clayton (https://instagram.com/upandadamart/)

Art on Campus: Neil Dawson’s ‘Toss’

By Field Skjellerup

Neil Dawson’s large-scale work Toss, can be seen suspended within the Hunter courtyard, on Victoria’s Kelburn campus. This aerial work forms the outline of a graduation cap, through strong steel beams and linking cables. Toss can be seen as an overt symbol for academic progress and educational pursuit, but what is much less apparent are details surrounding its display. Many smaller works within the Victoria campus give detail through the likes of wall plaques; however Toss does not readily display this information. It would only be through previous knowledge and experience with Dawson’s perspective hangings, that its origins would become clear. With those such as Echo (shown previously in the Christchurch Arts Centre) and Ripples (displayed at the Waikato museum of Art & History) exhibiting similar feature sets. What is specifically interesting about this monolithic cap is how it becomes a passive object, possibly without need of further explanation. But it should not be overlooked for this. Toss does not simply provide a lift in the general campus's ambience; it looks straight at its most apparent topic and celebrates its hardship.

Adam Art Gallery Seminar Series

The next installment in the Adam Art Gallery seminar series is tonight, featuring Victoria University Art History lecturer Raymond Spiteri. Check out the calendar here for this and future events. 

20 August
Raymond Spiteri, Lecturer in Art History, will deliver a paper he gave at the 2014 Art Association of Australia and Aotearoa NZ annual conference titled ‘Len Lye and Surrealism’, part of a larger research project on the theme of surrealism and Oceania. 

Image 1. Frame from Len Lye's Tusalava, 1928, black and white film (The Len Lye Foundation) 

Art-Machine Iteration: Angelmaker Part 1: 15 Seconds Prior to Apocalypse, 100 Views // Keith Tyson // Adam Art Gallery. Image by Field Skjellerup (https://instagram.com/upandadamart/)

A Tragic Delusion (Blue Oyster Gallery)

By Loulou Callister-Baker

Artists: Deanna Dowling, Tomas Richards, Cobi Taylor, Robyn Jordann

Blue Oyster Art Project Space (and Dutybound on Crawford St and outside both spaces)

Wednesday 5 - Saturday 29 August 2015

A Tragic Delusion decentralises the Blue Oyster space on Dowling Street by having the work of four emergent artists displayed inside the gallery, on the street and in another huge space above Dutybound, a quiet, unassuming book binder on Crawford Street. I have focused on the works in the show by Wellington artists, Deanna Dowling and Tomas Richards. 

Gallery spaces provide and exist as a result of delusions. They harbour the delusions of artists – the people who endeavour to create, remix or distort our physical and conscious realities in a celebration of delusion. Galleries also hold an undertone of tragedy too - exhibiting has become vastly different to the practices of a handful of New Zealand spaces throughout the 80s and 90s, which were artist run, passionately independent, fighting all constraints of the system. In her two part text for the show, A Tragic Delusion, Director Chloe Geoghegan describes her own sense of tragic delusion “as a curator working within and supporting an aspirational white project space,” confined by current white-wall processes. But the question remains, does this ambitious show, which aims to “unearth, pick apart and situate what emergent sculpture, installation and performance is today”, achieve its goals or perpetuate further delusion?

A long, narrow floorboard, once part of the Blue Oyster’s stable flooring arrangement, has disappeared and re-emerged at Dutybound in a subverted, sculptural state. Standing over the rectangle hole that forms a part of Tomas Richards’s work, Traversing Particles, one can see the littered earth beneath the gallery. This unclothing of the white project space feels somewhat of a reveal. The gallery can be deconstructed. 

People, when describing lost love, often cite that you only know what you have when it’s gone – in a similar sense, the floorboard’s absence was briefly (surprisingly) felt. However, when I found the floorboard towering above me, with one of its ends leant against the rafters at Dutybound, I experienced another revelation. Rather than questioning and lamenting a loss, this was a celebration. Richards has made two significant works centred around one delightfully tactful move – by the removal of one thing we acknowledge its absence (and the meaning of the space around it) and by its arrangement in a new space, we can understand its sculptural potential. This is echoed further in the other miscellaneous objects like pin boards, a key cabinet, dust and dirt that Richards has moved from one place to the other. At the Dutybound space, Richards also has recordings of sounds, like traffic and machine gun fire that signals a green man, which can be heard when moving between the two spaces. This sound art is not just a thoughtful addition; it is a strong twine that ties the goals of this show together.

Deanna Dowling’s work also has a sense of discovery and subtlety, which quietly holds its own whilst also engaging in an open conversation with Richards’ work. Like Richards, Dowling’s work traverses beyond Blue Oyster’s physical boundaries. Presented almost as a montage of clues, Dowling’s video piece at the gallery provides hints of the materials and sounds that literally make up the building blocks of the world around us. Among the often still, sometimes silent shots that make up the five minute work are images of fine gold fillings, and piles of Oamaru stone in a quarry, which fade into a long take of the Phoenix House building in Dunedin (the recorded traffic sounds creating a sonic link to Richards’s recordings). The subjects of Dowling’s film faded in and out of my mind as I made my way between the Blue Oyster and Dutybound with a new, ebbing awareness for the material world around me.

Dowling’s In search of gold, the stone was there all along also includes two thrilling street art works. The first, a tiny crack in the pavement that the artist had filled with gold and Oamaru stone, was pointed out to me by the gallery assistant. However, I was alone in my search for the one outside Dutybound. While the gallery map has a “3” floating around where the work should be, I did not find it straight away. I saw bottle caps, broken glass among sidewalk tussocks and many unfilled cracks before I came across Dowling’s work. I may have looked strange with my head down walking around in tight circles, but this search lead to a string of meaningful observations. It revealed the subtle presence of urban decay in Dunedin, how an active seeking creates a feeling of reward, and – for me – it suggested the exciting possibilities of how a city could be used for artistic endeavours that were far more effective and enigmatic than the giant, graffiti works which seem to be covering Dunedin’s surfaces with a new found zealousness.

A Tragic Delusion has been put together to “explore artist-run exhibition ideals that existed outside of the gallery system in the 70s, 80s and 90s” – ideals born from the freedom of running shows in a large variety of spaces, rather than limiting art to its exhibition on white walls.  A Tragic Delusion appropriately provided me with the initial building blocks to establish an insight into the history of sculptural practices in New Zealand. These blocks came in the form of piled Oamaru stones, of displaced floorboards and gallery office pin boards. Now these too are the symbols of tragic and celebratory delusion.  

Image 1. Tomas Richards, 'Traversing Particles', 2015 (source: Blue Oyster Gallery)

Image 2. Tomas Richards, 'Traversing Particles', 2015 (source: Blue Oyster Gallery)
Image 3. Deanna Dowling, ‘In search of gold, the stone was there all along’ (film still), 2015 (source: Blue Oyster Gallery)

Image 3. Deanna Dowling, ‘In search of gold, the stone was there all along’ (detail), 2015 (source: Blue Oyster Gallery)

Image 4. Deanna Dowling, ‘In search of gold, the stone was there all along’, 2015 (source: Blue Oyster Gallery)

'On and on and on and' // Sean Kerr// Sound Sculpture at Massey’s the Engine Room. Image by Max Fleury (https://instagram.com/upandadamart/)

Word of the Week: Feminisms

By Kari Schmidt

I’m contributing an article to the Enjoy Occasional Journal this year in November on the theme of ‘feminisms’ - the journal will accompany an exhibition at Enjoy and will be organised by the Enjoy Gallery Trust. Given that I’ve just finished the article, the word is on my mind a lot and I thought it would be an interesting one to consider, given that we rarely see feminism explicitly considered in contemporary art, despite its obvious continuing importance. 

We are accustomed to understanding ‘feminism’ as a singular term, connoting one, unified (read: Western, white, liberal) perspective. Conversely, the term ‘feminisms’ recognises that there are a vast variety of ways in which feminism intersects with other social issues such as gender, class, race, religion, the environment and culture. Hence, Maori feminism, eco-feminism, Islamic feminism, transfeminism, socialist feminism and so on. The Enjoy call for proposals asked a number of questions which I think exemplify the complexity this term embodies:

“What does it mean to be a feminist on the marae? What does feminism mean to a refugee from a culture where gender expectations differ from those of Aotearoa New Zealand? What does it mean to be a feminist when you shift between genders? What does feminism mean to you when you’re a mother who can’t earn enough to pay childcare? What does it mean to be a feminist when you’re a father and people talk about you babysitting your children as though you’re the backup parent? What does it mean to be a feminist when you’re deeply involved in a patriarchal religious belief system?”

One example of ‘feminisms’ can be seen in Enjoy’s recent show by Chantal Fraser, It’s Incredible... It’s All Ours, where the artist considered the entitlement of European men travelling to the Pacific Islands to indigenous women through engaging with the notion of adornment: “Via experiences of seduction and longing, the curiosities and romanticism of colonialism are considered in reference to the past and allude to consequences of colonialism from a female perspective.” In this way, the intersection between race/colonialism and feminism was explored in Fraser’s work. 

It’s Incredible... It’s All Ours is just one example of the way in which ‘feminisms’ allows for a much broader, complex understanding of the issues at stake in feminism today. However, the concept is vastly under-explored within artist project spaces and contemporary art generally in New Zealand. That Enjoy intends to address this by featuring an exhibition and journal on the subject is progressive and a bold move from the Enjoy Trust for their 2015 exhibition. 

Image 1. An image from Chantal Fraser’s It’s Incredible... It’s All Ours, Enjoy Gallery, 2015. (image: Shaun Matthews). 

The Rise of The University Museum

I highly recommend this fascinating article on The Rise of the University Museum. Because of their place within the University and the insulation this provides, galleries such as the Adam have the opportunity to serve as bastions of culture, relatively uncompromised by the commercialism which so dogs other public arts institutions.

A really interesting perspective on the value of galleries and museums existing within the specific context of a University.

THIS MUST BE THE PLACE

Although 'This Must Be The Place' is not within the realm of contemporary art, Up and Adam is happy to support and occasionally feature young talent in Wellington who, like us, are passionate about the arts. 

By Jaz O'Donnell 

An inspired collaboration between two Wellington based friends, This must be the place is the almost accidental outcome of Annabel Hawkins’ initially private lyrical wanderings. Combining poetry and images to create a thoughtful and gently emotive end product, this compact book is a reflection of the talent and vision these two young women possess. On her blog, the initial space for her words, Hawkins wrote:

"My premise was simple, and perhaps, in hindsight, I was writing to what I wanted to read. Which were honest depictions in a language that was uncomplicated but a way that was honest, and at times, fragile. They were frivolous, filled with spelling mistakes, tense misuse and random line breaks. They were things I had written with spare pencils on pieces of scrap paper."

When Hawkins linked one of her former lecturers her blog, the latter responded with a book deal. Thus, the foundations for This must be the place were laid. The difficulty came in transforming what was ‘essentially an online workbook’ into a physical object, which is where designer Alice Clifford came on board. A tutor of design at Massey University and a member of the International Society of Typographic Designers, Clifford’s passion for words made her an obvious choice, with the pair’s close friendship ensuring that the creative process was an enjoyable and rewarding experience.

The collection of poems in This must be the place speak of personal experience, with titles such as Brother and To Alice, from Fiji – a poem written from Hawkins to Clifford that explores enduring friendship and a comfort that grows with time. As new and old places are explored, Hawkins’ poems takes us to Thorndon Pool, down Salamanca Road, and to the back roads of Otaki, interweaving memory and its sensation with emotion and ideas. At times nostalgic, she explores the ever changing boundaries felt as one searches for their own place in the world – wherever that may be:

"Nineteen on Salamanca Road, and we flew. We flew – fur-jacketed moths in the night. Clusterfuls of us on borrowed boards and in temporary clothes."

For only $30, support emerging creative local talent and get yourself a copy of This must be the place. Available from Unity Books and Vic Books. To order it online you can go here: http://www.makaropress.co.nz/buy-online/

Image 1. Cover of THIS MUST BE THE PLACE

Image 2. Annabel Hawkins (left) and Alice Clifford (right)

Courtesy David Shirgley. 

Word of the Week: Taonga

by Eleanor Lee-Duncan Taonga “tah-oh-nga” ‘(Māori). 1. (noun) property, goods, possessions, effects. 2. (noun) treasure, anything prized - applied to anything considered to be of value including socially or culturally valuable objects, resources, phenomenon, ideas and techniques. ’ -Te Aka Māori-English, English-Māori Dictionary and Index The Māori term does not easily correspond with any single English word, since it encompasses broader concepts than our words such as ‘treasure’ describe. Emphasis is placed on the spiritual dimensions, or wairoa of any given item, alongside or instead of its material worth as an object. Furthermore, while abstract concepts, or experiences can be described in English as ‘treasured’, for example, ‘I treasured hearing that poem’, in Te Reo Māori an experience such as this can be described in itself as taonga. Stories, ideas, land features, people, found objects, works of art, or anything which one considers precious can be described as taonga. Furthermore, museums are referred to in Te Reo Māori as whare taonga (house of treasures).

Installation view, Fiona Pardington: In My Dreaming I Saw - MOEA IHO NEI I AU, 2015, {Suite}, Wellington

We can consider this word alongside the works of photographer Fiona Pardington, in her images of heitiki. A selection of her works at the exhibition ‘In My Dreaming I Saw – MOE IHO NEI I AU’, are currently on display at {Suite} gallery, 241 Cuba Street. Each work is a toned silver bromide fibre based print, depicting various heitiki, and one hei matau. Heitiki are carved Māori pendants, generally based on the human figure, and hei matau are fishing hook shaped pendants. These heitiki can be carved from wood, bone, or pounamu (greenstone). Heitiki are taonga not just because of the precious material value, particularly of pounamu, but also the spiritual or metaphysical aspect of them, as well as the personal, familial, or tribal history of the item.

Fiona Pardington, Taranaki Style with Paua Eyes Heitiki From The Burnett Collection Whanganui Museum, 2008, Toned silver bromide fibre based print, 600 x 500 mm, Edition 3/5

In these works by Fiona Pardington, we are presented with taonga, some carved from prized pounamu, one from human bone, several from fake bone. Rather than recording these objects, these taonga, in an objective documentary style of photography, Pardington shows them suffused with soft light, which makes the pounamu seem to glow with an aura. The photos are incredibly close up, so each taonga fills up almost the whole frame, and appears confrontingly large. Each minor scratch and blemish is highlighted; As Zara Stanhope says, ‘the tiki carry the scars of the individuals and families who owned and wore them.’

Fiona Pardington, Hei Matau, New Zealand, provenance unknown, Okains Bay Maori and Colonial Museum, 2002, Toned silver bromide fibre based print, 600 x 500 mm, Edition 1/5

Zara Stanhope continues an analysis of these taonga as photographed by Pardington by examining the ways they operate as a ‘critique of western destruction of indigenous cultures through the acts of settlement and assimilation, and the stripping of taonga from land and body.’ These photos appear to us in an incredibly intimate way, which opens up imaginative meditation and conjecture on who has possibly worn these heitiki, to where, and what the wearer experienced. While taonga and heitiki, as concepts, and individual objects, belong to Māori culture, since colonisation they have been collected, appropriated by, and made for, non- Māori peoples.

Fiona Pardington, Traditional Heitiki 1953.4.2.4 From The Burnett Collection Whanganui Museum, 2008, Toned silver bromide fibre based print, 600 x 500 mm, Edition 2/5

Further reading: Zara Stanlope, Slow Release: recent photography from New Zealand, 2002, Victoria: Heide Museum of Modern Art.

There's going to be a great talk at the Adam this weekend (Saturday 8th August, 2pm) by Emeritus Professor John Davidson regarding the influence of James K. Baxter on Colin McCahon and other artists. McCahon and Baxter were close friends and his painting, Walk (Series C) currently showing in the Adam exhibition The Specious Present, references Baxter's passing. 

For more events at the Adam Art Gallery check out the calendar here. 

Colin McCahon, Walk (Series C), 1973

Go see some Art this weekend.