Tag Archives: New Zealand art

I will need words: collecting great quotes by NZ artists

Recently Te Papa’s art educator Helen Lloyd and I have been working together to compile a list of some of the best quotes by well-known New Zealand artists. Quotes about art and art making. We’re interested in quotes which really get to the heart of why artists make work. Helen, being the educator, is particularly interested in quotes which could inspire children aged 5-8 years old.

Here’s an example:

I only need black and white to say what I have to say. It is a matter of light and dark.” – Colin McCahon (told to his son William McCahon)

Colin McCahon, 'Scared', 1976, acrylic on paper. Purchased 2008, Te Papa. Reproduced courtesy of the Colin McCahon Research and Publication Trust .

Colin McCahon, ‘Scared’, 1976, acrylic on paper. Purchased 2008, Te Papa. Reproduced courtesy of the Colin McCahon Research and Publication Trust.

Can you help us?
Send us your favourite quotes New Zealand artists by commenting below. The best quote will get a free copy of either Art at Te Papa, or New Zealand Art: From Cook to Contemporary or the soon to be released 2013 Te Papa Diary, all published by Te Papa Press.

Sarah Farrar
Curator of Contemporary Art

Vivian Lynn talks about her work Guarden gates, 1982

Senior artist Vivian Lynn has for over sixty years been making critical and enquiring work. The recent selective survey I, HERE, NOW Vivian Lynn at the Adam Art Gallery Te Pātaka Toi, Victoria University of Wellington (25 October 2008-15 March 2009) curated by Christina Barton, offered a rich selection of over seventy works dating from 1950-2008.

A book, of the same title, has just been published and makes fascinating reading, with essays by Christina Barton and Anna Smith, and short texts on specific works by Ian Wedde, Brian Easton, Pamela Gerrish Nunn, Priscilla Pitts, Charlotte Huddleston, Anne Kirker, Sarah Treadwell and Guyon Neutze.

Guarden gates, a significant work from 1982, is part of Te Papa’s collection. It comprises seven wall mounted sculptural forms made from cyclone gates, human hair and ribbon, and was a key focal point of the Te Papa exhibition We are unsuitable for framing, curated by Charlotte Huddleston which overlapped with the Adam Art Gallery exhibition (28 December 2008-26 July 2009).

Guarden gates, 1982, Vivian Lynn (1931– ), New Zealand. Purchased 1993 with Elise Mourant Collection funds. Te Papa.

Guarden gates, 1982, Vivian Lynn (1931– ), New Zealand. Purchased 1993 with Elise Mourant Collection funds. Te Papa.

Each of the seven structures has its own title: Matrix; Daughter of the father; Sacrifice; Processual ground; Differentiation; Rebirth and Eyes of life, eyes of death. The combination of materials is evocative and visceral, and the formal arrangement of the suite of works heightens their arresting qualities.

As Christina Barton comments in her introductory essay ‘Entwined with hair and other substances, Guarden gates demonstrates Lynn’s treatment of materials as generators of meaning. Together and singly the seven gates establish a complex interplay of opposites (organic and manufactured, structural and ornamental, inside and outside) that engage and contest the politics associated with her chosen materials’ cultural coding and which set out a poetic narrative referencing Jungian concepts of the unconscious. Though not an illustration (Lynn only encountered the story after the work was completed), the installation can be read through the 5000-year-old legend of Inanna, a Sumerian fertility deity representing eros, who sets out on a journey to meet her sister Ereshkigal, queen of the underworld, and has to pass through seven gates, giving up her different powers at each to surrender herself to death, who is later rescued in a symbolic gesture that affirms the cycle of life.’[1]

During the exhibition at Te Papa Vivian Lynn spoke about Guarden gates, how the work evolved and the range of social, political and mythological associations it draws upon. You can see this footage here:

Heather Galbraith
Senior Curator Art


[1] Barton, Christina, I, HERE, NOW Vivian Lynn – an introduction, I, HERE, NOW Vivian Lynn, Adam Art Gallery Te Pātaka Toi, Victoria University of Wellington, Wellington, p.16-17.

Save Yourself and Giraffe-Bottle-Gun

My last post was about the installation of Judy Millar’s 2009 Venice Biennale project Giraffe-Bottle-Gun. This and Francis Upritchard’s Save Yourself are now open here at Te Papa, so as promised this post features images of the completed installations.
Save Yourself

Francis Upritchard, Save Yourself, 2009. Installation view. Image: Michael Hall.

A long view of the three works that make up Save Yourself. In the foreground is Dancers, the middle Long and the background Lonely.

Te Papa has acquired Dancers for the collection.

Francis Upritchard, Dancers from Save Yourself, 2009. Installation detail. Image: Michael Hall.

Francis Upritchard, Dancers from Save Yourself, 2009. Installation detail. Imgae: Michael Hall

Francis Upritchard, Save Yourself, 2009. Installation view. Image: Michael Hall

Francis Upritchard, Long from Save Yourself, 2009. Installation detail. Imgae: Michael Hall

Francis Upritchard, Lonely from Save Yourself, 2009. Installation detail. Image: Michael Hall

 

Giraffe-Bottle-Gun

Judy Millar, Giraffe-Bottle-Gun, 2009. Installation view. Image: Michael Hall

Judy Millar, Giraffe-Bottle-Gun, 2009. Installation detail. Image: Michael Hall

Te Papa have purchased three works from Giraffe-Bottle-Gun. This shaped work  leaning on the wall  in the above image and the single shaped painting in the image below.

Judy Millar, Giraffe-Bottle-Gun, 2009. Installation detail. Image: Michael Hall

The third piece acquired by Te Papa from Giraffe-Bottle-Gun is not so easy to see in the current installation. It is the painting at the left of this image below – the one behind the other work.

Judy Millar, Giraffe-Bottle-Gun, 2009. Installation detail. Image: Michael Hall

Both the installations look great in the spaces and I recommend a visit if you can.

If you are interested in finding out more about the works and the Biennale, coming up on 18 March our Art After Dark is dedicated to the Venice Biennale.

The evening kicks off at 6.15pm with a floor talk by project curators Leonhard Emmerling, Director of St. Paul Street Gallery, Auckland, who curated Judy’s Giraffe-Bottle-Gun and Heather Galbraith, Senior Curator/Manager Curatorial Programmes, City Gallery Wellington, who co-curated Save Yourself with Barbican, London Curator Francesco Manacorda.

After the floor talk there will be a panel discussion on the Marae. For more detail go to our Art After Dark page:
http://www.tepapa.govt.nz/WhatsOn/allevents/Pages/ArtAfterDarkToiotePoVeniceBiennale18march.aspx

 

Framing McCahon on Steinbach

This is my opening post in a series to discuss approaches to the framing of paintings.

This first one is a response to William McAloon’s post: Freedom to act and takes his blog post as a point of departure. I look at some of the issues involving the sympathetic framing of modernist paintings, and what we did with two such works.

I have been thinking a long time about framing the art of Colin McCahon. That the artist worked steadily throughout his career to rid himself of the frame, offered up some challenges. That black be used to frame his work offered up another; both the artworks referred to here came into our collection dressed in black frames.

Installation in Toi Te Papa after reframing. © courtesy of the Colin McCahon Research and Publication Trust

Installation in Toi Te Papa after reframing. © courtesy of the Colin McCahon Research and Publication Trust

Defining the limits

Frames, any frames, work counter to the spirit and strategy McCahon adopted in his paintings. He was influenced by the wider tendency of modernist painting to
relate the painted surface to the democratic white wall. He also wanted to release the painting from “the accretions of the past” implicit in the formal traditions of framing.

It is often not possible to return the paintings to their original and minimal supports, to simply pin them to the wall in the manner that he first presented them. Like all McCahon’s work on Steinbach paper, these ones are so reductive as to ask for the merest method to hang them. They are made of a few blocks of highly articulate colour, and McCahon exhibited them simply pinned to the gallery walls with thumbtacks.

In his last years McCahon often used this high quality, quite stiff paper together with acrylic paints. With these materials he expressed a vulnerability in appearance reflecting the content and motivations of his art. The clean edge of the paper suited the clarity and simplicity of his painterly choices. The characteristics of the paper provided just enough stiffness to give a stable but not dead flat platform. This coming together of material and subject is both direct and elegant in the extreme.

Dress in black? – not always

Artists’ intentions are, or should be, the light by which we consider how a particular work could be framed.

McCahon himself acknowledged that the market, current understandings, and the individual motives of owners left their marks in the way his works were framed. Such methods often compromised his intentions, probably forever, especially when they involved sticking the work down, irreversibly, to a hard support – as ours were.

Acquired from different sources, they both arrived in black frames and mounts. I think that framing works like these, and framing them in a black surround often works counter to the intentions of the artist and so can come between the artist and the viewer. This is particularly true of McCahon’s paintings where black predominates. The expressive articulation of large areas of black is one of his great artistic accomplishments. When an adjacent frame is also painted black, this can interfere with the quality of the viewer’s experience of his work. Also, the edges of a work of modern art can become blurred by an imitative surround. The experience may become visually destabilising and thus more difficult for the viewer, and doubly so when the wall adjacent to the frame is white.

The solution

Our newly acquired works were already stuck down, one on hardboard and the other on stiff card. Since the extra supports could not be unstuck they had to be accepted into the framing solution. I wanted the frames to be as recessive as they could appear, so that the paintings could still have access to the white wall, and for their edges to be plain and unambiguous.

The solution we chose was to use white materials – mat board and gessoed wood [traditionally, gesso is a mixture of chalk or gypsum and animal glue], and the use of the golden section in scaling the elements http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_ratio.
Low-reflectance glass was used to protect the works with minimal interference from reflection.

To start the process I had to decide the minimum depth required to fit the paintings and their support materials to the wall. The answer to this question was then subjected to some maths. I multiplied the minimum depth by the golden ratio (1.618) for the width of the frame section, and then multiplied the frame width by the golden ratio to determine the width of visible mat at the edges of the artworks.

Section drawing of frame profile, support materials, dimensions, and artwork. © Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa

Section drawing of frame profile, support materials, dimensions, and artwork. © Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa

The flat unembellished white frame keeps faith with the modernism of the work, and the harmony required for the essential condition of balance or centredness in the works comes through relatively unaffected. The end result we all feel was very satisfying. With the increased sense of access to the paintings, we felt encouraged to stay and think about the artist and his work. I hope you do too!

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