Curated by Sonja | Art reviews on Sonja's blog | Sonja's other projects | Sonja's Artworks arranged by Medium | Sonja's c.v.
Curated by Sonja | Art reviews on Sonja's blog | Sonja's other projects | Sonja's Artworks arranged by Medium | Sonja's c.v.
artists
Brenda Liddiard, Auckland | Tāmaki-makau-rau brendaliddiard.co.nz
Cle Tukuitonga, Ōtangaroa, The Far North
Denise Batchelor, Hokianga denisebatchelor.com
Jeff Thomson, Helensville jeffthomson.co.nz
Piet Nieuwland, Whangārei pietertje.net
Sonja van Kerkhoff, Kawakawa sonjavank.com
A friend told me, all birds speak Māori because this is the
indigenous language of this land and this reminded me of the
meaning of the word, māori – the ordinary everyday normal.
It fascinates me how differing languages use different words
to express the speech of the animal world and I love it that
one name for the owl, koukou, is also close to how I hear the
sound of the owl. For two paintings featuring birds, I asked
my fluent Māori speaking friends to say how they would
write the call of each bird, which you can read on these
paintings.
The proverb written across the larger painting:
E koekoe te tūī, e ketekete te kākā, e kūkū te kererū
is about everyone having their own voice - that the tui
squawks, cries, the kaka chatters, and the kereru coos. That
the world is a place where diversity is the ordinary everyday
normal and that we have all kinds of and manners of
expression.
I think it is a reminder too that while humans have a lot of
control in the world of nature that we are of the natural world
and should be humble about how we work with nature.
Gardeners know this :)
The photographs by Denise Batchelor, bring us into close
proximity to jellyfish, that many of us (myself included) are
afraid of if encountered in their world, the sea.
These close
ups of the otherworldly invite reflection on how we perceive
and interpret the unfamiliar, the differend.
Most of the birds in the paintings are based on photographs
I took in our Kawakawa suburban backyard before a new
neighbour removed these trees in 2022 without our
permission while we were away. In particular the tree this owl
lived in. My print, Ghost (Kawkawa Wetland Rescue, part 2),
refers to this environmental loss, while Piet Nieuwland's
poem lists a free fall of acknowledgments of te taiao te Tai
Tokerau – our Northland environs. The print The reckless
earthworks that swell and slide (in our backyard) is tongue in
cheek, yet is serious about when you dump a huge amount of
spoil with zero retainment over a spring into a gully.
The gutted out corrugated fire extinguisher by Jeff Thomson
is playful and clever but here placed between the now barren
wall of clay spoil where trees and birds once were and the
misFit text, it feels skeletal – hollowed out. Brenda Liddiard's
Cauldron is another metaphor for irresponsibility.
The misFit taxidermy possum sporting an eggshell is a joint
work by Cle Tukuitonga, Sen McGlinn, Te Toroa Pohatu and
myself. The texts ask us who is responsible even when a pest
is cute or engaging. In Māori and English there are word
plays in the texts just as in the title of this exhibition.
Short videos: @sonjavank