Waite's years in captivity fascinating

SENSORIA by Kirk Nichols.

JOAN. In 1986, Mike and I spent a year in London on a teaching exchange. We saw and did many memorable things but what stands out for me was the opportunity to hear Terry Waite, the then special envoy of the Archbishop of Canterbury, give a talk in Saint Paul's Cathedral. Hostages taken in the Middle East were constant news at the time and Terry had succeeded in gaining the release of several of them. He seemed such an unassuming man in appearance but his courage and certainty in the role he was playing intrigued and inspired me.

The following year, 1987, Waite, negotiating in Lebanon for further releases, was persuaded to visit the hostages who, he was assured by their captors, were ill. He would have safe passage. Doubting the captors' veracity but unable to ignore the possibility of it being true, he went along with the visit. He spent the next 1763 days in captivity, the first four years alone, without books, paper, fresh air or conversation, having to mask his eyes when his captors came into his cell, so he never saw them face to face. Unimaginable.
I followed the five years until his release in 1991on TV reports and from newspaper and radio articles, marvelled at his courage and was joyful when he returned to England.
It was a great honour and pleasure, therefore, to hear him speak again last Sunday, this time in our own Opera House. Not surprisingly, he addressed a large crowd and looked as unassuming as ever.

He spends two months each year in New Zealand, writing and making further acquaintance with those involved in Corrections, (he dislikes that name and so do I) prisoners, guards, administration and volunteers and especially reformers. He has given his time since 1991 to promoting Prison Reform in Great Britain. His address was most moving and thought-provoking. He called for compassion, justice and fairness in the treatment of those incarcerated in the prisons in both our countries.

He said so much. We listened because he understood the loneliness of prison, the many reasons why people are put there and the lack of support for them when they leave.
Can I simply mention statements that struck me most forcibly in what he said. Ninety per cent of prisoners are there because of drug or alcohol dependency. Mental illness of all kinds is witnessed in these men and women. Prisoners on remand can remain in prison for three years without trial. Prisoners usually have had a rough upbringing, known violence and neglect. They are so very often illiterate. They are influenced by gangs when young and bullied by them in jail. As a community we tend to see prison life and its hardship as due punishment. Lack of freedom, said Terry, is punishment but how much compassion, companionship and care is offered to these members of our society to enable them to start again, as a person with self-esteem and confidence, able to give and receive love and care and trust.

I was deeply moved by what he said. With our small population, he said, we could be forerunners in reform and caring.

He was candid in his description of witnessing malpractice by a prison guard first hand — a brave thing to mention. He compared this to a Prison Governor that he deeply respected who made it his role to visit and talk with each prisoner twice a day. From my own small experience, teaching a young man in his 30s, to tell the time, fill in a form for a driving licence and begin to read properly, I had already realised that the atmosphere in prison is often hard, disciplinary and joyless. I also was fortunate to meet warm, committed volunteers who bring their time and skills to Whanganui Prison and are amazing.

I must also mention our lovely John Maihi who, in thanking Terry on behalf of us all, also addressed the desperate problem of the high proportion of Maori in prison. For years, he said, the request had been made for Maori to be in a prison near to their own tribe and historic background. There was a great swell of applause from the audience to show their agreement. Indeed, I thought, we would all wish to be close to family and those who care about us in these circumstances.

I was sorry that there was not more time for questions. There was so much to ask of Mr Waite, his beliefs and experiences. I thank him for his time and passion and am grateful to the Quaker Society for inviting him to give this year's lecture.

MIKE. For a son to follow in his father's footsteps as an artist must bring about a real satisfaction. When the son then asks the father if he would like to be part of a dual exhibition, I would imagine that nothing could make the father happier. These details were recounted to me by Peter Nicholls at the opening of Genetics of Renewal at the Milbank Gallery last week.

His son Kirk, well known for his grandiose plaster sculptures, is here displaying four busts, all made from recycled plastic. The process was explained by Peter. Kirk first melts the plastic, wearing a mask to avoid inhaling the fumes, and a pair of heavy duty, fire resistant gloves, before twisting and bending it into the desired shape. It takes a good deal of physical effort, said Peter. Sensoria is a rather bizarre creation, with different colours adorning it, and, hanging down behind, long, tangled hair, like Medusa's snaky locks. Even weirder is Retrench, which could be a view of the body's internal piping, a lizard-like alien, a sculptural representation of Munch's The Scream, or a prisoner being tortured, his fists clenched. Nicholls pere said it reminded him of a monk's cowl, which was far more accurate than my ideas, as it was actually a reference to the 'hoodie', the fashion statement of modern youth. Dylan — Shedding Self is again like a sci-fi character , peeling away chunks of his face. Who was Dylan? We didn't know, but my friend thought it resembled Peter Snell! It did!

Peter's work consists of two distinct media, metal and wood. Irish Yew is used for three items, Old Blue attracting me through the striding wooden figure, with three birds attached. It references the saving of the black robin in the Chathams, when the species was almost extinct. His other three works are metal wall mounts, some steel, some brass, curved to look like tennis visors, thus angling away from the wall. Two 'shields' are a nod to his concern for the protection of our native birds, the whio and kokako, the others, Shields for the Process, a set of five , honouring his wife who died from cancer. Various shapes are excised from the metal, his wife's revealing a strong religious element. Because the shields are angled away from the wall, the cut-outs throw shadows onto it, an interesting extra. Thought provoking and intriguing, the exhibition — running until March 17 — is well worth a visit.

JOAN. I am very much saddened by the departure of Mark Dawson from the Editorship of the Chronicle. He has been such a supporter of Whanganui. Every paper needs a good editor as well as good reporters. What has happened?

JOAN. Apologies to Confluence. The Film Club contributes to various local charities — La Fiesta is next — and sometimes takings are put towards the hiring of another good documentary. I didn't say so last week. Mea culpa.

JOAN. Feeling both pleased and proud that the city will be receiving refugees in the near future. In the '70s I remember how well Vietnamese refugees were integrated with care and kindness into our community. Their children thrived and all showed a work ethic to envy. We are a city that has always been a 'people-place' and we will continue to be. I trust that the present housing needs will be met with more vigour and solutions.

Please comment to mjstreet@xtra.co.nz