I am at long last contemplating the Te Auaha exhibition held in Wellington last September. It was four months ago, the end of 2020 punctuated with Christmas and the luxury of travel and family available to us. We are truly blessed in this regard.
This time last year I was investigating knots unaware how pertinent this would become in terms of our mental and physical well-being over the year to come. This year I have moved into the realm of memory. This has evolved out of the Chain Reaction project that I am working on for the Nelson Jewellery Week exhibition, about which I will write in a future blog.
Memory is so subjective and subject to change, one event witnessed by many can be described by individuals from their perspective, each detail varying, like a visual Chinese whispers game. It all depends on the mindset of the viewer and what is chosen to take precedence.
I am going to record a few of the memories that stood out for me the most about our exhibition.
- My surprise when I realised the gallery was accessible from busy Dixon St in the heart of Wellington. An amazing venue so available to the public and a good space for us all to work with.
- Simon Swale on his knees for what seemed like hours measuring and cutting brown paper and the way everyone set to in such a foreign space, (with calm and experienced help from Vernon) climbing ladders, placing works, discussing options.
- Maca, efficiently done and dusted in what seemed like an hour, while many agonised on and off all day about hanging and placement.
- Michelle and her lovely daughter patiently pinning hundreds of sandpaper insects to a woman’s silhouette.
- Aphra’s Mum arriving and setting up, liaising with her daughter stuck in lockdown in Melbourne, by phone.
- Amelia, sitting in the corner quietly working out the best way to place her works and hang a jacket.
- Antonia and Dan obviously having a plan and getting it done under Antonia’s watchful eye.
- Mia working away in the back room on the best way to hold her brightly coloured pieces at right angles to the wall.
- Simon too, obviously having a plan and quickly erecting his ‘gates’.
- Jack and his partner working away together, conversing with each other and us.
- Fran up and down ladders helping others and waiting for her work to arrive by courier.
- Niki, helpful and quickly setting up, with stories about her work while doing so.
- Nina, that long roll extending into the space filled carefully with those intricate little works.
- Hilda arriving with containers of food, Fran and I putting things out on a very high table out back, cheese and salami….
My lasting memory will be of us all, standing together around Mia as she spoke to the assembled group of guests addressing our work through covid (I refuse to give it a capital letter or a year somehow that smacks of a sequel in some other year!), thanking those who had supported us and explaining how we had learned to function as a group, apart.
These are impressions and you will have differing ones no doubt. I could have written a ‘technical’ review of the show talking about the work and how we all used our brown paper differently and the diversity of our making, how totally unique each paper canvas was. Although the work was intriguing and I was pleased with the exhibition and audience response, my memories centre around the group, our works a reflection of each of us laid bare on the wall, or floor, how we came together, how we jogged along through Zoom meetings planning for an event we were never sure would take place. I sent some photos through to Iris the night of the exhibition and she commented on how good it was and how lucky we were to be having an exhibition, going out to dinner, and being able to hug each other. She was right.
