Kā Kaupapa o te Wā
What’s On
Disruptive Landscapes: Contemporary Art from Japan
Quietly powerful and immersive video works revealing the politics behind our view of landscape.
John Vea: Ini Mini Mani Mou
Powerful new work examining the complexities of the immigration process in Aotearoa New Zealand.
Dear Shurrie
The art, influence and friendships of sculptor and teacher Francis Shurrock
E tuwhera ana te wharetoi i kā rā e 7 o te wiki, 10am - 5pm
Ka tuwhera ki te 9pm i kā pō Wenerei
Open 7 days, 10am - 5pm
Late night Wednesday until 9pm
Uruka utukore, ahokore utukore
Free entry, free wifi
My Favourite
Ron Mueck: chicken / man
When I was growing up on our rural property in the South Wairarapa, my Dad was engaged in a constant war with his chickens. They would crap on the back deck, the side deck, and occasionally walk into the house and crap on the kitchen floor. He spent countless hours hosing down their muck and complaining about their every move, but still loved them enough to run a regular “name my chooks” competition on his Facebook page for a time.
Tony Fomison: No!
Dad was always the arty one.
We didn’t think of it as art, growing up. We just thought of it as him having strong opinions about what looked and sounded good. Music, especially. After school finished each day, he’d crank up the stereo and our home would hum with blues and rock from the 1960s and early 1970s. Cream and the original Fleetwood Mac were forever fighting the drone of the kitchen extractor fan.
Kushana Bush: Glukupikron
My sister owns a gorgeous Kushana Bush work that I have coveted for some time. I think I had been subconsciously mind-banking her works since seeing it. Then, when I was overseas last year and feeling a little homesick, I listened to an RNZ National podcast of Charlotte Wilson interviewing the artist (Art, Life, Music: Kushana Bush). Kushana’s choice of music to accompany the interview was bliss: carefully chosen pieces by Bach, Satie, Britten, Bayaka pygmies and Jack Body.
Dry September and the Dutch Funeral
Towards the end of last century I was teaching at Christ’s College. At lunchtime, like quite a few of the boys, I used to go through a gate in a brick wall to the Botanic Gardens to smoke. Then, especially if it was cold, I’d often wander, to no great purpose, through the Robert MacDougal Art Gallery.
![Toss Woollaston: Untitled [Quentin (Kin) Woollaston Shearing]](/media/cache/89/81/89813389f1be4baa3817a7260a3b0cc7.jpg)
Toss Woollaston: Untitled [Quentin (Kin) Woollaston Shearing]
“Teddy you fucking mongrel! Stay in your place, so help me you fuzzy prick!” my four-year-old self shouted at my hapless toy bear during Christmas lunch in 1981.
James Powell and Sons: St Mary Magdalene and Mary Mother of James at the Empty Tomb
You may be wondering why I chose this piece of art as my favourite. Perhaps you think it’s for the craftsmanship of the stained glass. Or maybe I’ve lost someone, and the artwork brings me comfort. But you’d be wrong. This piece of art, which was rescued from the Barbadoes Street Cemetery Chapel, triggers a memory.
Leo Bensemann: Seascape with causeway
The four years I spent at Elam as an undergrad straight out of high school ruined art for me. I entered the building on Mount Street in love with painting and wanting to be a painter, and I left in love with nothing.
Charles Meryon: Nouvelle Zélande, Presqu’île de Banks, 1845...
1957 was a big year for me – transitions from a middle- sized hometown to life in a major city, and from high school to university, with an emphasis on courses in French language and literature. And late in that year a new display in the Canterbury Museum allowed my rudimentary interest in New Zealand history, my unstructured interest in the visual arts, and my commitment to things French, to come together around the work of an artist I had never heard of, but who had lived briefly at Akaroa in the 1840s – Charles Meryon.
Bill Culbert and Ralph Hotere: Pathway to the Sea – Aramoana
My time working at Te Puna o Waiwhetū was strewn with highlights, but key among these is the experience of hanging Ralph Hotere and Bill Culbert’s Pathway to the Sea – Aramoana (1991), which was also my first experience of seeing this work up close and personal. Although not the greatest work or most popular work of art in the collection, this lithograph will always be special to me. I love the sparse aesthetic, the sense of a light touch. The bold decision to not occupy the whole page as the collaborators examine restraint, notations of the relevance of place and connections.
Shane Cotton's Takarangi
I grew up in the Motueka Valley at a place called Ngatimoti. The Peninsula Bridge crosses the Motueka river there. It carries one lane on a timber deck joining SH 61 to Peninsula Road and the west bank of the river. The bridge is 110 years old, still doing its job of daring every kid who grows up in its vicinity to climb the railing and take the leap one day – maybe thirty feet if the summer is hot and the river sedate and inviting. By the time I’m sixteen, I’m a veteran. Veterans don’t jump. We dive, head first, eyes open, arms outstretched. There must be grace in the art of falling.