Domus, 2010

Carly Van Winkel

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


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.


© Carly Van Winkel

God’s Work

Katrina Rees

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.


© Katrina Rees | www.katrinarees.com

The Locals

Ian Robertson

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.


© Ian Robertson | www.ianrobertson.co.nz

Pet Care

Rebekah Robinson

This is a series of images resulting from an investigation into the aspects of care given to the domestic pet.  I am interested in the spaces and sites where these anthropomorphic practices are carried out. At first glance one could assume that the spaces are for the treatment of people, but closer inspection in some of the images reveals the true nature of the site’s purpose – animals. However some of the interiors give nothing away (e.g. ‘Surgical Suite’ and ‘Crematorium’), for these spaces are identical to the ones that deal with humans.

The absence of humans or animals in the work creates a sense of possibility. In some images there is an ambiguity and the viewer is left to ponder the purpose of the space.

Our relationship to domestic animals has a long and varied history; currently domestic pets have reached a status almost equal to children. Some people opt to have pets rather than children and these pets become substitute children in the family.

As we advance as a society our choice of lifestyle and consumer products expands. No longer are we just surviving, we are consuming at a rapid rate. In our society with surplus cash and more leisure time available the ways in which we choose to spend our money has flourished in some unlikely avenues, such as dog daycare centers. Even in death private cremations, funeral services and burial in ‘pet cemeteries’ are available to the family of the beloved pet. In the United States the pet industry is even more radical than in New Zealand but we are catching up in terms of what we are now offering the consumer.

All of the images were shot on a 5×4 camera. Large format photography offers high quality detail, which lends itself well to this series.


© Rebekah Robinson

Healing the Blind

Kristian Frires

In the Pacific region over 80,000 people are blind, 70% due to cataract, and a further 240,000 suffer significant vision loss. This photo essay follows the generous work of the Fred Hollows Foundation who every year send medical teams to far flung regions of the pacific to provide eyecare and cataract surgery for those in need.

My aim in documenting this work was to reveal the ordeal that people suffering from blindness have to endure in the hope of stirring compassion in the viewer.


© Kristian Frires | www.kristianfrires.com