Heavy trees, arms and legs. The Suter Gallery, Nelson / The Physics Room, Christchurch (with Sorawit Songsataya) 22 April - 18 July 2021 & Coastal Signs, Auckland, 30 July - 9 October 2021
Jar, 2021 Oil and acrylic on linen with paperclay attachment 1300mmx1500mm
Eye, 2021 Oil and acrylic on linen with wire and canvas attachment 500mmx500mm
Clay Head, 2020 Oil and acrylic on linen 800mmx800mm
Tree, 2021 Oil and acrylic on linen 700x560mm
Brush, 2021 Oil and acrylic on linen 700mmx560mm
Geology, 2021 Oil and acrylic on linen 700mmx560mm
Droplet, 2021 Oil and acrylic on linen 1000mmx860mm
Crest, 2021 Oil and acrylic on linen with paperclay attachment 500x500mm
Star, 2021 Oil and acrylic on linen with paperclay attachment 500mmx500mm
Cup, 2021 Oil and acrylic on linen 1200mmx1200mm
Crystal-ine, 2021 Oil and acrylic on linen with paperclay attachment 800mmx1000mm
Hub, 2020 Oil and acrylic on linen 500mmx500mm
Fire 1, and Fire 2, 2021 Paper clay and pigment and canvas
Heavy trees, arms and legs, installation, also showing work by Sorawit Songsataya
Heavy trees, arms and legs, installation, also showing work by Sorawit Songsataya
Heavy trees, arms and legs, installation
Heavy trees, arms and legs, installation, also showing work by Sorawit Songsataya
Heavy trees, arms and legs, installation, also showing work by Sorawit Songsataya
Heavy trees, arms and legs, installation, also showing work by Sorawit Songsataya
Heavy trees, arms and legs, installation, also showing work by Sorawit Songsataya
---------- 2020
Listening, twitching, Te Uru Waitakere Gallery, Titirangi, Auckland
Peachtheif, 2020 oil and acrylic on linen 1000 x 900
Fayr 2020 oil and acrylic on linen 900 x 900mm
O.O. 2020 oil and acrylic on linen 500 x 500mm
O.V. 2019 oil and acrylic on linen 500 x 500mm
W.W. 2020 oil and acrylic on linen 500 x 500mm
W.I. 2019 oil and acrylic on linen 500 x 500mm
Ray-Jeh. 2020 oil and acrylic on linen 1000 x 1000mm
I.W. 2020 oil and acrylic on linen 500 x 500mm
Her soul yearned out of her eyeballs, 2020 plaster, paper, paper clay, pigment and linen 470 x 690 x 690mm
Listening twitching, installation
Group therapy, 2020 plaster, pigment and paper mache 880 x 450 x 430mm
---------- 2018
A Holotype Heart, Mossman, Wellington
Well/Bell, 2018
oil on linen, encaustic on plywood 600 x 600mmA Holotype Heart, 2018
Hopkinson Mossman, WellingtonA Holotype Heart, 2018
Hopkinson Mossman, WellingtonXin Yang, 2018
oil on linen 1000 x 800mmSerenity, 2018
oil on linen 1100 x 900mmWheat/Faith, 2018
oil on linen 600 x 600mmStone tone one, 2018
oil on linen 600 x 600mmJustice, 2018
oil on linen 500 x 500mmGraze, 2018
oil on linen 600 x 600mmH.H. Frond, 2018
oil pastel, acrylic, paper clay, custom frame 670 x 550mmH.H.Froth, 2018
oil pastel, acrylic, custom frame 660 x 540mmE.M.R.B., 2018
paper clay, plaster, pastel, acrylic 360 x 360 x 270mm
---------- 2017
Folded Eyes, Hopkinson Mossman, Auckland
Folded Eyes, 2017
Hopkinson Mossman, AucklandLalara, 2017
oil on linen 1000 x 800mmKarl, 2017
oil on linen 600 x 600mmPleer, 2017
oil on linen 1200 x 1200mmFay, 2017
oil on linen 500 x 500mmAin, 2017
oil on linen 500 x 500mmJuy, 2017
oil on linen 500 x 500mmFer-Vaa, 2017
oil on linen 1200 x 1000mm
Progress
I can see that every breath you take requires your entire body’s effort
so precariously porous, and precipitous, so amphibious
I’m watching you, like a hawk, like I have a camera
the air is rushing through our ears as if the ocean was upon us and
together we laugh helplessly in our embrace and you say:
through moist tears, as you scan your surface,
“Do you love me in this lungless form?”
and I say reassuringly, “Yes. After all, I’m not specific.”
The trouble with metamorphosis is that we don’t recognise our children.
I consider myself to be relatively compatible with technology
and my language of choice has evolved into a series of positive and negative moments
this of course suggests some vestigial notion of bipedality from which I have journeyed
I’m (like) down on my knees thanking mother earth softly for this gift of locomotion
Disrupting my contemplation, a crowd appears, running in my direction
“You don’t belong to me!”, I shout indignantly
I log out murmuring, “thank God for computers”
The trouble with metamorphosis is that we must make peace with the losses and gains.
I know that in one year’s time I will spontaneously shed another layer of skin
and I need to be prepared to shake it off and walk away, physically
the certainty of my biological processes makes me look upwards
for familiar stars, planets visible to the naked eye, and impending black holes
so encouraging are the signs of a cosmic battle involving muscled forearms
and complicated heroines doing their best to upend the order of things
despite everything, I’m sympathetic for all the satellites in each other’s faces right now
I say this out loud just to start up a dialogue.
