Mo-art-a

By Moata Tamaira

A more or less daily exploration through the gallery's collection during COVID-19 lockdown in which I try to recreate artworks, often with a reference to life in the time of coronavirus. Started on 29 March 2020. Recommenced on 18 August 2021.


Raymond McIntyre's unique round signature becomes a light dimmer. My hair is not actually that long at the moment so it's all held together with hair grips and hope.


Probably Olivia was in front of a blackboard, but in 2020 it's a TV.


Troubled by toilet paper panic buying, 2020. Main prop here is toilet paper (obvs) aided and abetted by wearing a hoodie backwards, wearing black gloves and a white sheet draped over, and smearing cocoa power on the wall behind me.


Props to whoever did this woman's hair. It looks fab and I could not quite manage it. Also, you would not believe how hard it is to hold a fan at your hip just so. New respect for models everywhere.


Sorry, Whaea Rora, I don't smoke, nor do I own a pipe so I just couldn't go past the old digital thermometer route, with a tissue for added ersatz "smoke".
Māori were disproportionately hard hit in the 1918 Influenza epidemic and current modelling suggests this will also be the case with Covid-19 if we don't keep it at bay.


In these days of physical distancing Tony Fomison's "No!" really speaks to me. But why not make it explicit?
No (close contact)!


My partner's "Michelango's David" apron gets its moment in the limelight. Couldn't not.


This is the most aggressively I have ever "duckfaced" in my life. Yes, I did only put eyeliner on one side. Also, the tradition of "wearing stuff wrong" continues with an inside-out skirt and a hoodie on my head.


Lockdown means a lot of time spent entertaining the youngest members of the family. It's not all leisurely lying around on couches playing guitar, unfortunately


Look, some of us just celebrate Easter by wearing bunny ears (around our necks) and eating a lot of chocolate.
In "special effects" news, the brown border on this image was created by cutting down a toilet roll and positioning it over the lens of my phone's camera. OH, THE GLAMOUR.


Self portrait of a woman who misses delivery pizza (featuring our pizza plate and some wooden blinds).


As a librarian, how could I resist taking on a portrait of one of New Zealand's most beloved and respected authors? I couldn't. Is it sacrilegious to make it look like she's got icecream around her mouth? Probably, but getting through lockdown with kids is dependent entirely on icecream and lego. So there.


Designated shopper. Featuring flour, baking powder and a 12 pack of toilet roll (not really visible). Sadly, I do not own clogs.


"Portrait of a woman feeling older by the hour". Featuring the Covid-19 mail-out that everyone got in their letterboxes and a bottle of hand sanitiser. Despite the fact that I put on what felt like massive amounts of blush, it hasn't really come out as very visible. MORE ROUGE REQUIRED.


Who knew a plus size woman would be able to fit into a floofy petticoat made for a 2 year old? I'm as surprised as anyone.


In the pirate's garden. I have been recruited to play pirates A LOT during lockdown, hence my not looking thrilled about it. Also, kiddo here (CAMEO!) is carrying 3000 jokes for kids and that is a book that has limited appeal, let me tell ya.


Be careful with your lockdown haircuts, e hoa ma! Shout out to my partner/photographer for tenderly placing my Coke bottle nipples and the hedge clippers RIGHT BY MY HEAD.


#FormalFriday: A social media nod to the quaint tradition of dressing in office attire (but only once a week because who can be bothered when leggings and ugg boots are a thing?). And what, I ask you, is more formal than a bow-tie?


Massive bag of flour. Edmonds cookbook. WE ARE ALL DOMESTIC GODDESSES NOW (yes, even the men).


It's interesting to see people from overseas question the level of freedom that New Zealanders have had in lockdown when most of us seem happy to temporarily trade our freedom of movement for a great reduction in health risk.


"Isolde" by Aubrey Beardsley, 1895 becomes "I drink". Just getting through the day with too many layers on and staying hydrated, y'all!
This one didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped probably because my legs aren't 15 feet long? Also, this is my first time wearing a pair of opaque tights as a wig!


The bed hair. What to watch today? Get dressed or not? So many questions...


Featuring a moustache drawn by my 6 year old assistant. And always a good day for some Adidas 3-stripe, amirite?


I knew I bought that fancy copper fruit bowl for a reason. Featuring crayon colouring by my 6 year old and his white sheet "ghost" costume for Halloween.


Bread: Can't make sourdough, won't make sourdough. The hat in John Week's original is so suggestive of the loaf of choice for lockdown bakers everywhere that I was almost tempted to make one before remembering that supermarkets still sell perfectly good bread.


I contemplate a nice relaxing bath but first I have to clear all the bath toys out of the way. #mumlife


Getting ready for a Friday night Zoom party with friends. God bless Riesling! (Fire truck stamps instead of stigmata for that "mum energy")


"Touching Up" by James McLachlan Nairn becomes "Counting Down".
Since it's the end of the school day it's actually 2 days now, but whatevs.


Apparently yesterday (13 May) was the anniversary of Frances Hodgkins death. Here's my take on one of her still lifes, depicting our Level 3 and 4 life.
"Still life with red jar" becomes "Still life with Big Mac".
Includes things like The Luminaries, the hat a friend knitted and posted to me, hand sanitiser, loose lego, yeast, and kiddo's teddy bear.


I thought I was done with this but then we went into Level 4 lockdown again (18 August 2021). This is my version of "The artist's wife at the piano" by George Butler, aka "The photographer's wife at a zoom meeting". Lots of pins holding my hair in place. LOTS. And my red dress gets yet another arty outing!


My take on "Figure of a boy in a rocky landscape" by Auguste Thomas Marie III Blanchard = "Figure of a woman watching the 1pm presser".
In answer to your question, no, I do not usually drink whisky while I watch but I sort of like the idea of it.
I definitely ate some of the corn chips though.


Some bloke named "Dampier" (by William Macleod) with an unfortunate brown smudge on his upper lip. Bet it was because he was noshing on Tim Tams, like a legend. My version is therefore entitled "Tim Tam-ier".


Make sure to get out there and spread your legs, as per the Health Minister's recommendations but DO pop a mask on!
This outfit features a sequinned tank top worn inside out and my partner's trousers.


Not so much checking my toilet paper privilege as luxuriating in its 2-ply goodness. "Head of a boy" becomes "Head of a bog roll".


Not spring cleaning. Look, I have good intentions and all but I'd really rather be reading.


Teresina on Twitter - the face I make when I read reckons from people online who say our Covid success is because we're "a tiny island".


When it's #FormalFriday but you also just want to be cosy.


"The Assumption of the Virgin" by Valentine Green which I've turned into "Mum, can we make a pillow fort?"



Help me, I've forgotten how to apply makeup! Is this too much blush?
"The Fisher girl" by Charles Hay-Campbell becomes "The blusher girl".


Reimagined as "Lockdown: It's not a tropical holiday".
Froze my arse off sitting on the deck for this one. Brrrr.


Tense times with the home learning, am I right?
Also, nothing says #FormalFriday like forcing your 7 year old into an off the shoulder number.
Fun fact: The book in this photo is "The little book of Beyonce".


Our suburban idyll does not, unfortunately, include chooks so the Fisher Price Farm will just have to do.
Yet again I am wearing things inside out and back to front.


In my defense, that hair is impossible. I did my best! Features the luckiest card of all... my Covid-19 vaccination card.


Welp. I told myself I'd do one more of these to celebrate Auckland coming out of lockdown which I guess it technically is tomorrow. Farewell to Summer by Haly Garsia becomes Farewell to Alert Levels.
Here's to having a big roll of newsprint in the house for kiddo craft activities.