I like the dramatic quality of the lighting at night. There are often strong shadows, and that relates to hiding things. It is as if the shadows invite the observer in to share their secrets. One can bring one’s own experiences and thoughts into these areas of shadow.”
Micheal Kenna, Night Walk
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I am interested in the notion of fear. This photographic essay is informed by the feeling of fear, or more so the feeling of unease. These feelings are both my own and also my interpretation of the experiences in the unconscious of other individuals.
The focus of this series was to gain an understanding of others fears. As a starting point I created a survey to gather information from people of all ages and races to see if there was a commonality between them. There was a very broad range of fears that started from one end of the spectrum and veered off in all sorts of directions. At one end were the everyday aspects that we all have to deal with such as loneliness and darkness. Then there were more obscure and unrealistic phobias such as clowns, long drive ways or the monster that creeps out from the wardrobe as we sleep. Having such a diverse range I then had to decide which aspects of fear I needed to explore in order to successfully present my ideas. My first instinct was to steer away from the everyday fears, but as I researched further into this area I realised that the scope of everyday life, especially in urban spaces, is never completely unimportant. So I went with the urban space I know best, West Auckland.
I have lived in West Auckland my entire life so it just seemed to click. With the concept now planted in my head, going about my life in the usual fashion I started to see these public everyday places in a completely new light. It Is not just me who inhabits these spaces on a daily basis, it is everyone around me. Everyone is somehow involved. Can I make others see these places in this new way that I am now seeing them? This is what I have set out to do – to convey the feeling of abandonment and loneliness.
The title comes from a piece of writing where the artist Michael Kenna shares his thoughts on his own works. I feel this quote fits quite strongly as shadows have always made their presence known in my past works and are very prominent even now.
I don’t just want to be seen as ‘Māori’ when I am doing something Māori like the ‘pūkana’ or holding Māori weaponry. These aspects of Māori life are not what make me Māori. I am Māori inside out.”
Jess, Kahu, Maioha, Amber, Ramari, Eden
Ngā Tūmanako o Kahurangi, Auckland Girls’ Grammar School
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Set within the context of historical Māori portraiture, the work addresses surface understandings of cultural identities. Challenging various stereotypes or categories developed within historical commercial photographic imagery, Māori represents Māori from a Māori perspective. Influenced by the apparent aesthetics of historical Māori portraiture, with particular reference to posing and styling, it was decided to explore these visually in the company of contemporary Māori identities. Confining these subjects to the format of an oval was a clear reference to the formal aesthetics specific to the paintings of Charles Goldie and the introduction of a Victorian style.
Te Ao Māori is central to the work investigating the development of traditional concepts of ihi and wehi through evolution of contemporary Maori identities. Ihi refers to the total personality of a person and their quality of excellence. Wehi is the effect that one person’s influence has on another. Together, they generate individuality. The subjects express pūkana in their formal portraits, a form of cultural and self-expression and assertion.
The evolution of cultural representation is examined in the investigation of the way biculturalism exists within their lives. How does one achieve a bicultural ‘surface’ or sense of representation? Is it a consequence of being one or the other? Represented in their school uniform, adorned with Māori taonga (treasures), styled in the manner of their ancestors, replica Huia feathers in their hair, the subjects communicate their contemporary identities. Demonstrating both confidence and pride, they appear comfortable with their current clothing, context and setting.
The work intends to remind us that these individuals are indeed individuals. They are real people who exist within this urban reality of both Māori and Pākehā. They are who they are, as we see them. Expressing what we understand as obviously Māori – pūkana. Jess, Kahu, Maioha, Amber, Ramari and Eden remind the viewer of the diversity of this urban reality – that their Māoritanga is underlying. The subtitled quote is evidence of a collaborative engagement and provides insight into the subjects’ voices. Whether or not they are what may be understood as ‘obviously Māori’, they still identify as Māori.
The practise of bringing wildness in the human domus has been underpinned by impulses not only of fear and control, but also of care and curiosity – by affection as well as domination.”
Kay Anderson, Animal Domestication in Geographic Perspective
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In society today we try to keep nature as far away from our living space as possible and feel uncomfortable when even an insect were to intrude that space. We seem to think of nature as something separate to our normal day-to-day lives and it has become a leisurely activity to visit a zoo or park to experience nature first hand. In his article The Grapes Are Sour Anyway, 2009 Daniel Campbell Blight discusses the appearance of natural objects in man-made, built environments. He comments that “as nature and mankind have drifted apart, nature which was once by its very definition natural, has become a spectacle. The appearances of the objects of nature into the built space or environment of the modern city come as a surprise to us.”
I am interested in how we choose to separate ourselves from nature and the feeling of incongruity when nature ‘intrudes’ on our lives. However, more than ever, we are happy to share our homes with dogs. We live so closely with them, allowing them on our furniture, in our beds and even to lick our plates clean. We have begun to personify our dogs by allowing them free range of our homes, dressing them in unnecessary clothes to the extent that the dogs themselves have become a fashion accessory. I am interested in the way we share our living spaces with them and I find it intriguing that we feel comfortable even sharing our beds with these dogs – in some cases very large ones. It therefore seems that we turn a blind eye to the true nature of these animals and to reality that these dogs have the potential to kill us.
For this photographic series I was interested in capturing the oddity of the situation, where the ‘inhabitants’ live together (human and canine), and where the boundaries between the two species are somewhat blurred. This series aims to give the viewer enough information for them to generate assumptions about the type of connection each individual dog has with its owner, why perhaps the owner chose the particular breed of dog to live with and the ways in which both species live together. These interactions are intriguing because they reflect contemporary nature/culture issues within the realm of domesticity.
I found that under close scrutiny of the camera, the shared habitats of the domestic animal and the human have a ‘defamiliarising’ effect. Ultimately I want my images to expose the paradox between our ever-increasing shift from the natural environment, and our decision to live so intimately with a chosen animal. I want to raise questions as to the reasons we feel such a close affiliation with dogs and why we find it necessary to live so closely with them. Maybe it is about care and curiosity – by affection as well as domination but perhaps it is an anomalous way for us to connect with the nature that we are now so detached from.
Although I wouldn’t consider myself a religious person for some reason I find myself drawn to religious architecture. These sacred spaces allow a private, personal and non-public place of contemplation.
For this ongoing project I use a pinhole camera as it gives the images an ethereal quality. Also, working with film and without a viewfinder allows me to experience the peaceful reverence of the environment whilst photographing it.
This exhibition was originally shown at my local café, Deluxe, which is a bit of an institution in Wellington, with Ukelele Orchestras and low flying Conchords regularly sighted there. I’ve been living in the neighbourhood for the best part of fifteen years and the café has been a constant comfort throughout – same food, same music, same faces.
I have two daughters, aged 4 and 8. They’ve grown up coming to the café, little ‘City Girls’ feeling very pleased with themselves as they sit at their table, counting the marshmallows in their hot chocolates and soaking up the surroundings.
I’d planned on a series of portraits for the space and wanted to give the customers a feeling of being watched; a slight sense of unease as they riffled through their morning papers and sipped their coffees.
Rather than frames, I wanted it to appear as if there were a series of windows lit from within, with the subjects peering out at the various goings on. I figured that children would bring that slightly otherworldly, Village of the Damned feel to it.
There’s a lot of indignities that kids have had to suffer throughout the years at the hands of photographers – being decked out in their finest and then all manner of squeaky toys waved at them, with the last resort of farting noises and poo jokes, before a blinding flash of light at the first hint of a smile.
They say never work with children or animals, and there’s good reason for that. Most kids of an age tend to be pretty transparent about how they’re feeling at the time, for better or worse. But I admire their honesty, and given the chance they can bring a quiet dignity to proceedings. Or pure savagery, so take your pick.