JOAN: It was good to go back into the Sarjeant last week. I chose a time when Mike and I were the only visitors, apart from a delightful group of Collegiate students. It is pleasing to view the whole space slowly and mainly from end to end and observe what pieces call you to them. I remember Tom Turner telling me that a work must impress you in some way, whether it be to love at first sight, to loath or to intrigue.
It was International Women's Day so I began by slipping round the corner of the gallery to revisit the Susan Frykberg area It shows really a rather beautiful spirit. I had attended the live performance of this work and now I witnessed it in quiet form, the Edith Collier paintings still projected on the walls. I read the words about Edith and they seemed so apt. Here was a female artist with a remarkable talent who, having extended this talent abroad, came back here to a life where the expectations of her were so different and of their time. "The day of my life is measured in paintings in the morning; in the afternoon, nieces and nephews. But remember my grief at midday ..." How dreadful it must have been to not be able to give over life entirely to the creation of beauty and the fulfilment of her soul's needs.
I returned to the main area and was drawn to the painting by Christine Fowler of Winter. The face in the painting is so haunting, strongly communicating a sorrow, I felt. It could have been Edith's expression as she returned to Whanganui. Christine's webpage, coincidentally, speaks of the difficulty of developing her work while bringing up her own children. However, she reflects the moving on of women's expectations. "At times the raising of four boys, and contribution of many hours to the business, would clash with her painting aspirations but she always managed to keep consistency with her artwork." Her output is vast and joyous to behold. I spent a long time looking at Winter.
Turning round, I was intrigued by the small but striking entry from Georgie Ormond. Eurothane acrylic didn't mean anything to my ignorance nor the title Go On I Dare You, but I liked a certain cheekiness within it and the simplicity of black line on white. Georgie is young, lives and works here and I am sure that her expectations of her future will be free and exciting, not bound by convention. We have moved on.
I went back to Edith and listened on headphones to the video of Susan's gorgeous orchestration. I listened and watched with pleasure and admiration, the performance of Shaila Hawkins. I have known Shaila and her mother Mel for a long time. There could not be a greater contrast between Edith's father who recognised and did nothing to support his daughter's talent and Mel who has devoted time, energy and constant support to her talented daughter. Shaila's future lies in performance. Her singing in this work seemed to me like the culmination of both her and her mother's commitment to developing her talent.
The Sarjeant Gallery on Women's Day. A thoughtful visit.
MIKE: Continuing Joan's topic, my first action was to check on Yellow Melt. Still there! "Will it be safe?" "How will you get it home?" "Have you got a dog?" "What about grandchildren?" These and similar questions were posed by friends who had noticed how delicate and fragile the piece was. The basic answer to all of them was "No problem!" Anyway ... other works which caught my eye included Frances Sim-Higgins' After, in mixed water media. The beach looked so inviting. Evolution or Extinction is a giclee print by John Currin, its trees, in blurred, autumnal shades, set in the grounds of a stately home, evoking a genuine nostalgia. In addition, I enjoyed the acrylic Kapiti Caravan by Laura Papple. Its wild, exotic brushwork contrasted strangely with the subdued colours of the work, in an interesting juxtaposition. Standing above all, though, was the glorious piece of cast glass from Emma Camden's Follow series. Radiating strength and solidity, in a beautiful shade of blue, it resembles an inverted stairway to the stars. Another visit is on the cards.
MIKE: During one of our visits to London in the last decade of the 20th century, Joan and I spent some time one afternoon watching workmen dig the foundations of the future Globe Theatre. The brainchild of Sam Wanamaker, it took a while to come to fruition, but now offers audiences the opportunity to watch Shakespeare's plays performed in an exact replica of the original Globe. For several years now, various New Zealand students have had the good fortune to travel to London and study for a fortnight at the Globe. The Collins family has been particularly lucky in this respect. Last year, Paul, head of drama at Whanganui Girls' College, went as teacher in charge of the selected students, and this year his son Vincent has been chosen as a member of the group. He will work with professionals on the Globe staff on different aspects of theatre, the workshops culminating in the students' performance of Romeo and Juliet on the stage of that theatre. What an experience! The group will also spend a few days in Stratford on Avon, soaking up the culture of the bard's home town. (To my shame, I have never been there! One day, perhaps!)
Vincent and his family have been working hard to raise the $8500 required for his expenses, and last Friday a fundraiser - one of many - was held at Repertory Theatre. An evening of improvisation, Whose Line Is It, featured four teachers of drama - Colin Hedivan and Bridget Rison (both Whanganui High School), Sophie Hart (Cullinane) and Paul. Vincent and fellow student Millie Manning from High School posed situations for the quartet to react to - all spontaneous and off-the-cuff, requiring them to think on their feet. The overall hilarity was heightened by Bridget's hopping on to the stage with her right leg encased in a moonboot. It didn't seem to hamper her movements. I assumed it was all part of the entertainment and expected her to remove it at the end. It was obviously genuine! The evening was a huge success, with almost a full house.
JOAN: I enjoyed the recent film Jackie portraying the years that Jackie Kennedy spent as First Lady. They were a short three years and I had forgotten how brief and yet how influential the "Kennedy-Camelot" years were. Natalie Portman gives a stellar performance. Starting after her husband's assassination, as she gives her first interview to a trusted journalist, we see her memories mingled with history as we move from her early days, timid and unsure, to the new present where, still young, she confronts her future. This is an intelligent film. For viewers of my own age the memories are confronting. For a younger generation this is a fascinating story. As a comment on women's roles, it shows Jackie's development from being simply a glamorous appendage to a strong and influential woman.
MIKE: Ten Seconds, Glen Hutchins' 2016 exhibition, inspired me to reread All Quiet on the Western Front, that most moving of war (anti-war?) novels. Later that year we also saw it dramatised in a superb stage performance at the Edinburgh Festival. Would Twenty Years of Sun, at Space Gallery, provide a similar stimulus? Perhaps not. The exhibition notes offer a quote from Ezra Pound, "All poetic language is the language of exploration." There are also several lines from William Blake's The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, which doesn't sound exactly gripping for light relief reading. Anyway, it might give Joan ideas!
Four large paintings, in bright yellow, are lined up along one wall, all untitled. Facing them is one huge work, occupying the whole wall. According to the artist, Churn represents "the magnitude and the scale of the sea". Small line drawings were made by the artist, standing at the South Mole, from which he selected a certain few. These were scanned and digitally enlarged, or "exaggerated", as the notes explained. The resulting pattern is cut out of large sheets of vinyl, which Glen fixed on the wall last week. Using them as big stencils, he sprayed through them with acrylic paint. Once the vinyl sheets were removed, a "small, intimate, expressive" idea has been transformed into a large installation, leaving Glen's interpretation of the constant movement of the sea. Glen will be discussing his work, in conversation with Sarah Williams, on Tuesday, March 28, at Space Gallery.
Comments and ideas to mjstreet@xtra.co.nz
