B.221
B.
Bulletin
New Zealand's leading
gallery magazine
Latest Issue
B.22119 Sep 2025

Article

New Acquisition
Aratohu is an extraordinary new film by artist Lisa Reihana (Ngāpuhi, Ngāti Hine, Ngāi Tūteauru, Ngāi Tūpoto). A surrealist fable told over the course of a single evening, Aratohu explores destructive influences and the potential for healing. For lead character Wairangi, a fun night out turns into a journey of self-discovery, as reality and hallucination blur and overlap. Following an encounter with Stealer, a sinister figure representing risk and temptation, Wairangi meets Aratohu, an ancestral being offering an alternative pathway, underpinned by renewed strength in her Māori identity.
Artist Profile

He Kuru Pounamu
Jen Rendall (Ngāi Tahu, Ngāti Māmoe) has explored ancestral narratives and the entwinements of plant life, waterways and landscapes in her works for some time. As a member of Paemanu Ngāi Tahu Contemporary Visual Arts, she has participated in significant exhibitions which honour Kāi Tahu relationships to whenua, including Tauraka Toi: A Landing Place at the Dunedin Public Art Gallery in 2021. More recently, her work was included in Kia Ora Whaea – an exploration of Māori motherhood and Indigenous perspectives and experiences of maternity shown at the Corban Estate Arts Centre in Tāmaki Makarau, which also included work by fellow Kāi Tahu contemporaries Turumeke Harrington and Alix Ashworth.
Interview

What Taniwha Might Be Telling Us
Carl Mika (Tuhourangi, Ngāti Whanaunga) is a professor and head of school at Aotahi: Māori and Indigenous Studies, Te Whare Wānanga o Waitaha University of Canterbury. His colleague Garrick Cooper (Ngāti Whanaunga, Ngāti Ranginui) is an associate professor at Aotahi.
What follows is Kirsty Dunn’s attempt to kōrero with her esteemed colleagues about references to taniwha in their mahi. This is a truncated version of an hour-long conversation in which they delve into Te Pō and talk about (or perhaps around?) taniwha a while…
Artist Profile

Whakahikohiko
On stepping into Francine Spencer’s home, what I notice first are the small, glittering points of light, scattered around the room like tiny, flickering whetū. But these aren’t gifts from Rakinui – these starlike specks are made of copper, Fran’s choice of material for her work in the upcoming exhibition Whāia te Taniwha.
Article

The problem with your neck
First he sent me a photo of a rainbow dolphin, which made me laugh because it’s the exact opposite of my personality and he knew that. Then I found a GIF of Dick Van Dyke in double denim riding a dolphin, bouncing on it in automated joy and when I sent it back, it made him laugh. I love that dolphin he said. But maybe both of us are sharks.
Commentary

Taniwha
Taniwha narratives invoked in small rooms on warm nights of a Hokianga summer, or in big rooms with dirt floors by a Te Reinga river. Hine Kōrako, Poutini, Ngārara Huarau, Whatipū, Ngake and Whātaitai, names repeated and tethered to history from the mouths of generations of sovereign peoples. We wanted more, my tiny cousins and I, we believed in daydreaming and night-flying, viscous trails and portals underground.
Foreword

Kupu Whakataki
Tēnei te mihi ki te māreikura kua whetūrangihia i tēnei tau. Nā tōna mahi, nā tōna āwhina, nā tōna kaha, ka puāwai te kākano o tēnei kaupapa. Moe mai rā, Whaea Robyn.
Haere, haere, haere atu rā, he taniwha hikuroa.