Detail, Solace in the Wind. Cast iron sculpture by Max Patte. Located on Wellington waterfront.
Posted to Silent Sunday
“Sculpture occupies real space like we do… you walk around it and relate to it almost as another person or another object.” — Chuck Close, artist.
‘Reflection of a Journey‘, Torild Storvik Malmedal (2015); marble and glass. Seen at Sculpture by the Sea, Bondi, 2018. Image: Su Leslie
When we look at a piece of art, it is easy to forget that in its making, it may have gone through many stages or forms quite different to the end result.
Polymer clay doll-making is an excellent example, often beginning with a wire and aluminium foil armature around which clay is formed — sometimes for the whole body, but in many cases just for heads, hands and feet.
I have made dolls in the past, but these belong to students at a recent workshop held by an artist friend. I was there solely as the photographer.
I must say though, it did rather inspire me.
Posted to the Lens-Artists Photo Challenge | something different
There are worse metaphors for my month than the Big T’s chainsaw.
There have been days when I’ve effortlessly cut through “the big stuff”, and others when it’s felt like my plans and good intentions have been chopped off at the knees.
But overall, we managed to tackle some jobs that have been over-long in the “too hard” basket, and reward ourselves with a few escapes from our normal landscape.
I’ve already posted shots from most of these trips, (very poor planning) so here are a some from a long-delayed visit to The Lighthouse (see below), an exploration of the walk and cycleway under Mangere Bridge (we weren’t even sure it existed), a visit to the beautiful Northland beach at Whananaki where T and I once camped, and a few days in Rotorua.
A highlight of that trip was the Redwoods Tree Walk; 28 connected suspension bridges, up to 20 metres off the ground in the midst of the redwood forest. I hate heights — but it was fabulous. It is open until 11pm, and the forest is lit up at night, but there were massive queues the evening we considered it, while we had the daytime walk almost to ourselves.
It hasn’t felt like a particularly creative month. I messed around with a design for a tote to hold a couple of bottles of wine, on the basis that this (suitably filled) would make a good gift. The design is good, but I’m struggling with execution.
In the kitchen, my sourdough obsession has produced a few attempts at pizza / pizza bread. I’m definitely getting there, and T is happy for me to keep experimenting!!
The Changing Seasons is a monthly challenge where bloggers around the world share what’s been happening in their month.
If you would like to join in, here are the guidelines:
The Changing Seasons Version One (photographic):
The Changing Seasons Version Two (you choose the format):
If you do a ping-back to this post, I can update it with links to all of yours.
Tracy at Reflections of an Untidy Mind
Tish at Writer on the Edge
Joanne at My Life Lived Full
Deb at The Widow Badass
Ju-Lyn at All Things Bright and Beautiful
Jude at Living on the Edge
Pauline at Living in Paradise
Ruth at Ruth’s Arc
Sarah at Art Expedition
The Lighthouse is a work of public art by NZ sculptor Michael Parakowhai. It’s sited at the very end of Queen’s Wharf in the CBD and from the outside, is a 1:1 scale replica of a New Zealand “state house” of the 1950s. The interior is completely open and contains clustered neon lights and a large scale statue of Captain Cook (there is an identical sculpture in the New South Wales Art Gallery).
It’s an interesting work — with the interior defying expectations. I didn’t manage to capture any particularly good interior shots, but there is one in this article. And uou can read more about it here.
It’s almost a year since I was inspired by Anabel at Glasgow Gallivanter (in Hidden Histories, a guest post at Retirement Reflections) to search out public commemorations of women’s achievements in my home city of Auckland.
My initial post focused on the ways Women’s Suffrage has been remembered in public art around the city, and since then I’ve only managed a (quite accidental) post about the botanist Lucy Moore who has a park and stormwater pond named after her in Warkworth, north of Auckland.
So today I bring you aviator Jean Batten (1909-1982) who, during the 1930s made a series of record-breaking solo flights, including a return flight from England to Australia (1934), the first flight by a woman across the South Atlantic (1935), and ever direct flight from England to New Zealand in October (1936). She made her last long-distance flight in 1937, returning to England from Australia.
She retired from flying, aged only 28 and spent the rest of her life in relative obscurity, living and traveling, first of all with her mother, then alone after the latter’s death in 1966.
The last anyone heard from Jean was in November 1982, when she wrote to her publisher in London, letting him know her new address in Majorca.
It took until September 1987 for researchers to learn that she had died alone in a hotel within weeks of arriving in Majorca, and had been buried in a mass pauper grave. She had suffered a dog bite, and refusing treatment, died of a pulmonary abscess at the age of 73.
Jean Batten left New Zealand in 1929, and only returned as an occasional visitor. In recordings I’ve heard of her speeches and interviews, she sounds terribly British, and I’m not sure how much her Kiwi origins were public knowledge.
But her achievements, in an overwhelmingly male field of endeavour, were considerable and she deserves to be recognised and celebrated.
The International Terminal at Auckland Airport (where the statue above is located) is named after her, as are streets in in Auckland, Christchurch, Mount Maunganui, Wellington and Rotorua. The Jean Batten Building (in Jean Batten Place, Auckland) no longer exists, but the facade has been incorporated into the high-rise constructed on its site. She has had a primary school named after her, and in her hometown of Rotorua, another statue is sited at the airport.
The title of this post is taken from the 1988 television documentary titled Jean Batten: the Garbo of the Skies, directed by Ian Mackersey, who in 1991 published a biography with the same name. It was the research team working on Mackersey’s documentary that uncovered the mystery of Jean Batten’s death.
My friend Claire teaches art classes and workshops, including one on doll-making.
She learned this skill so she could make 3-D models of the characters she wrote about and drew in her first published book, Little Wing.
Some of her students wanted to try their hand at making dolls too, so the workshops were born.
I recently spent a day photographing Claire and her students. When I arrived they were making hands, which I know from my own doll-making attempts are VERY fiddly.
And very rewarding when you get it right.
In one respect, placing over 100 contemporary sculptures around a coastal path in suburban Sydney does make them stand out — but it’s relative.
Some works,distinguished by their scale, colour, subject matter or position, couldn’t help but announce their presence.
Smaller, more subtle works sometimes seemed to blend in to the environment, and required time and closer inspection.
Other sculptures found themselves jostling for space. Over 40 of the 107 sculptures exhibited were sited in Marks Park, which is about midway around the Sculpture by the Sea trail. It is home to the pop-up gallery of smaller indoor sculptures and the event’s hospitality area, so despite some of the works being quite large, many simply didn’t stand out in the crowded space.
Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are, by Sydney artists Gillie and Marc Schattner, was the only work that really stood out for me in the Marks Park area. The artists’ statement says about it:
“The work calls on the world to welcome endangered species out from hiding, into a place of safety and love.”
And finally, there were works that weren’t always recognised as sculptures.
Several sites containing discarded items — including the bottles and cans below — formed a work concerned with the waste produced by our society.
Hossein Valamanesh’s Conversations, involved weaving Persian carpets into seven existing public benches sited along the coastal path. This chap was not the only visitor who seemed confused by the rather beautiful, if understated, work.
Posted to Lens-Artists Photo Challenge | Blending In –Or Standing Out?
This is my last night at the quirky and frankly brilliant Collectionist Hotel, so it’s fitting I begin by showing you some of the things that make this place so nice.
I’ve just left “happy hour” — a three hour evening ritual, where the staff put on complimentary drinks and nibbles for guests. I’m normally too introverted for anything like this, but I as arrived home, the lovely young man who has organised my late check-out offered me a drink, and it would have been rude to refuse. It’s a very nice beer (above) for anyone who’s interested.
In general I’m not a fan of Nespresso machines — or of any device that relies on single-use consumables. But, I have to admit, having one in my room has been brilliant. The coffee is really very good. And the little cup — which looks like a disposable — is ceramic.
Even better though is the presence of a jar of loose tea and a pot to make it in!! So much nicer than teabags.
My day has involved lots of art, lots of walking, and too much food (including some breakfast banana bread also provided by the hotel).
I’ve been to the Modern Art Museum and to the NSW Art Gallery. As with any gallery, there is much to love and a lot that I just don’t connect with.
I’ve realised from my photos on this trip, that I am more and more interested in three-dimensional art that works with the human form. My Bondi photos show this, and it was reinforced at the NSW Art Gallery tonight.
Walking, Wei Wang: seen at Sculpture by the Sea, Bipondi.
Shifting Horizons, April Pine. Sculpture by the Sea, Bondi.
I like Sydney. It is in a beautiful location. There are so many places to eat. Public transport is frequent, reliable and seems affordable. People are really friendly, and everywhere you go there are directional signs with destinations and distances — for pedestrians and cyclists.
But: it is a city that seems to be “under construction.” Everywhere I look there are building sites and cranes and people in hard-hats. That means it is also very, very noisy. More than the traffic and the planes overhead, the sounds of construction are relentless.
Snapshot of development: the view from Pyrmont Bridge.
I have totally loved my time here, but I am looking forward to going home tomorrow.