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Joe’s Cabin: a photographic occasion in Silverstream Valley

Wednesday, July 31st, 2024 | Hocken Collections | No Comments

Post researched and written by David Murray, Archivist

There are many photographs of sombre-faced Victorians in the Hocken Collections, but few first-hand accounts of the circumstances and experiences surrounding their creation. A photo titled ‘Joes Cabin’ comes with a description that might change first impressions. Taken at Silverstream Valley near Dunedin on 28 December 1886, it is pasted into a trip diary of John Elder Moultray. A professional artist, born in Edinburgh, Moultray was in his early twenties. ‘Joe’ is identified as ‘Joe C – a man who works on the [water] Race’, with a cabin in the Silverstream Valley. On Christmas Day the two men shared hunting tales at Whare Flat. Moultray recorded: ‘As it was now getting late Joe left to go to his cabin and as I have promised to photograph not only it but himself wife and baby as well he is thoroughly delighted at the prospect of being took’.

On 28 December, Moultray wrote: ‘Really and Truly this is actually a fine day. Now don’t look astonished but get your hat and come out? After breakfast I took the camera and went over to Joes to fulfil my promise. The sun shone brilliantly. The birds were chattering with spasmodic delight, you see the poor beggers have never any tax-gatherers coming around at akward [sic] times to damp their ardour. Henry who accompanied me took up his place in the background to view the proceedings. The camera was set, then over I went and knocked softly at the door, as the door opened I saw enough to cause me regret that I had come. The preparation that was going forward was startling, then there was a desperate struggle to prevent asking if they expected the Queen around. Joes better half led the van carrying her first baby which rolled its eyes dreadfully for the camera and then fixed them on its fathers shirt sleeve in such a marked manner that all eyes naturally followed its steady stare, which made Joe look rather sheepish as he had turned out without his coat to show his contempt for fashion and his feminine companions weakness in donning their best. However I always admire a man of principal and Joe at least strives to act up to his. Next comes Joes mother-in-law, a thoroughly practical old lady with plenty breadth of beam. The Rear was brought up by Joes nephew or grandchild or uncle or grandfather I always get mixed with relationships but he was a little boy in his Sunday togs, who had to be dragged out, but afterwards became interested watching for a beautiful bird to fly out the camera. The adults all struck tragic attitudes and glowered at the lens, an instant afterwards there was a forty horse power sigh went up showing that the deed was done’.

We would love to learn more about the ‘Joe C’ family. The art of John Elder Moultray is represented in the Hocken Collections by 21 oil paintings, mostly landscapes, and a few other works. There is a small collection of his personal papers. Sadly John’s elder brother Henry, who also went on the trip, died just a few months later.

The diary has just been digitised and can be read in full at: https://hocken.recollect.co.nz/nodes/view/66784

Reference: Diary (1886-1887), MS-4847/003, John Elder Moultray papers, Hocken Collections – Te Uare Taoka o Hākena.

Unearthing 19th Century New Zealand Photography

Thursday, April 27th, 2023 | Anna Blackman | 2 Comments

Tēnā koutou katoa, ko Scarlett Rogers tōku ingoa, nō Ōtepoti ahau.

I am currently a student at the University of Otago and am doing my last paper to complete my Bachelor of Applied Science with a double major in History and Physical Education, Activity and Health. I have a passion for both the history of Aotearoa and the outdoors, hence the combination of art and science within my degree.

This summer (2022-2023) I was lucky enough to receive a scholarship from the Centre for Research on Colonial Culture (CRoCC), and Uare Taoka o Hākena Hockens Collections welcomed me as part of their team to carry out research. I was assigned to work with the Pictorial Department where I helped the Hocken Librarian with a publication that was being prepared in conjunction with an upcoming exhibition. This project is a collaboration between Uare Taoka o Hākena Hocken Collections, Tāmaki Paenga Hira Auckland War Memorial Museum, and Alexander Turnbull Library, National Library of New Zealand. When I was told I would be helping with a publication that involved all three of the above institutions, I felt like I had landed on a gold mine. This internship very quickly became a once in a lifetime opportunity, especially for me as a student in the History department, who is very interested in both history and writing.

My role within this project was to research and write a chronology from 1840 to 1899 that captured the rapid changes in photographic technology as well as society in Aotearoa in this period. Another focus was to approach the chronology from a Te Ao Māori lens. This aspect of the research was particularly important as it tied into the research CroCC covers. I was also assigned to write a glossary that focused on the key photographic terms covered in the book. Another aspect of my role was to attend the publication meetings and take minutes. These meetings were eye-opening because they gave me a sneak peek into the world of publishing. It was great to listen in on the creative conversations and see the complexities involved, particularly with a book that has multiple authors and institutions involved.

The book’s purpose is to highlight the extensive photographic collections that each institution has, as well as to complement the exhibition that will eventually be on display at each institution. The book’s target audience is diverse, but one objective was to write it at a level that secondary pupils could easily understand. It is hoped that the new New Zealand Aotearoa Histories Curriculum will make use of this book as a resource. The chronology is included in the book to give anyone who is reading it a broad understanding of photography at the time, but it will be especially useful for students who might want to focus on one event or a particular period.

The timeframe that the publication focuses on is significant in many ways because the invention of photography closely coincided with the colonisation of Aotearoa. This gives the history of photography in Aotearoa a special quality as it captured the raw nature of the very new colony. One important point that unfolded while I was researching was that photographs from that period were taken by Pākehā settlers or explorers. For example, in 1865 the construction of Arthurs Pass was photographed in detail which illuminates the significance of the road for settlers. But what these photographs do not capture is how Māori felt about the whenua being carved up and trees being cut down for the industrialisation of the country.

Road over Arthur’s Pass, NZ. Aotearoa Series no N1552. Hocken Collections

This highlights how photography was yet another tool of colonisation. Although many Māori were in photographs there were no known Māori photographers during this period. This signifies how photography at the time might be used as a tool of privilege and control. Pākehā with access to cameras had the autonomy to choose what they deemed worthy of being photographed. When analysing photographs from this period it is important to consider the narrative being told and to remember that the images have been captured and curated by colonial settler society.

Although Māori were not behind the camera they were consumers of photography. Māori incorporated this Western technology into their own culture by displaying photography in their marae. Māori viewed photographs of whānau as much more than just tangible keepsakes and understood photographs of loved ones to hold mauri (life force). Photographs such as these became especially valuable after the person in the image had died.

I found it interesting that by 1860 traditional Māori dress was only worn on special occasions in Aotearoa; portrait sessions often being significant enough. The tradition of men being adorned with moko had also decreased. But images were often retouched and moko were drawn onto Māori after the photograph had been taken; perhaps to inject the indigenous back into the subject. There was a high demand for photographs of Māori because of the popularity of the images overseas. It was eye-opening to find out how widespread early photographs of Māori were around the world. This led me to ponder the ethics around this and question who had the right of ownership over these photographs: the photographer, or the subject?

Maori chief with taiaha (c.1900), photographer William A. Collis, Box-112-010, Hocken Collections

I had never utilised photography as historical evidence before, but after just a bit of research, I quickly became interested in photography and the way photographs can be used as historical evidence to comprehend a particular society. Through this project, I came to realise photographs often tell a story that simply can not be put into words. But on the flip side, it is easy to make assumptions about a photograph – which can be interpreted in so many different ways – which is why it is often valuable to use photographs alongside other evidence.

This internship bought up many questions which I would love to explore in future research and has also sparked my interest in photography. My mind has also been opened to the many different sources and forms of evidence that can be used for historical research. I had a lot of enlightening conversations while working in the Pictorial Department, and I got to see Hocken’s art collection for the first time. I had been on many tours in the downstairs stacks at the Hocken before, but I was amazed to see the extensive art and photography collections in the upstairs spaces at the Hocken Library. My time as a CroCC intern proved to be tremendously informative and interesting because before I started I knew very little about the subject of photography or how the Hocken operated. I have learnt a lot about how to analyse photography in the context of historiography and as a by-product, I have learnt more about the history of Aotearoa.

Book review: Self-Portrait by Marti Friedlander with Hugo Manson

Sunday, April 10th, 2022 | Hocken Collections | No Comments

Post researched and written by Eilish McHugh-Smith, Collections Assistant – Publications

Welcome back to the Book Review Corner of the Hocken Blog! Today we delve into the world of photography with a review of Self-Portrait by Marti Friedlander in conjunction with Hugo Manson. 

The first thing that attracted me to Self-Portrait was its physicality. A beautifully bound hard back, with high-quality leaves containing vivid imagery and an easy on the eye font, all wrapped up in a simple yet alluring dust jacket. Self-Portrait would not be out of place on a coffee table, yet it is a book of substance, that one could easily get lost in for hours on end. It will come as no surprise that this book was shortlisted for the PANZ Book Design Awards HarperCollins Publishers Award for Best Cover in 2014. [1]

A biography of the highly acclaimed New Zealand documentary photographer, Marti Friedlander, Self-Portrait is framed around numerous self-selected images, with an interview by Hugo Manson helping form the text. However, the interview has been cleverly framed to feel as though Marti is conversationally telling her story. Without the acknowledgement of Hugo in the afterword, one could easily be mistaken for thinking Self-Portrait is a solo venture.  

Self-Portrait begins with Marti detailing the childhood and young adulthood which led her to photography. Born to Jewish refugees in London and ending up in orphanages from the age of three, it is incredible to believe that the sickly child who at eleven years old weighed only three stone (19 kg) and stood only three foot (91 cm) tall, went on to become one the greats of New Zealand photography. Throughout this section Marti weaves images of her own childhood and those she has taken of other children, with commentary of her early years and childhood more generally. She also addresses the influence and impact that being Jewish has had on her life and identity. If not for someone suggesting she study photography during an interview for a scholarship to the Bloomsbury Technical School for Women, Marti would never have become a photographer, as she initially wanted to pursue a career in dress designing.  

Fast forward through another scholarship to further her studies at the Camberwell School of Arts and Crafts and beginning her career developing images for photographers Douglas Glass and Gordon Crocker, Marti fell in love with her husband Gerrard Friedlander, a Jewish refugee who fled Nazi Germany with his family and settled in New Zealand. After travelling through Europe together they settled in Auckland, where Gerrard worked as a dentist, and Marti assisted as a dental nurse, before returning to photography. 

Subsequently, Marti explores different projects, themes and events that shaped her career through her photographs. Each chapter is focused around a core area: “Other Couples,” “New Zealand,” “Parihaka,” “Moko,” “Politics and Personalities,” “Writers and Artists” and “Protest.” Beautiful black and white images of kuia with their moko kauae, images of her friends and some familiar faces like John Key and Rita Angus, along with some iconic New Zealand images grace the pages. Marti analyses some of the visual elements of each image but provides context about the subject, situation and her perception of it that cannot be seen within the photograph. Against the backdrop of Marti’s life and through her insight, readers view the images in a new light, with far greater consideration for the finer details, the craft that has gone into creating such expressive and meaningful images and the fresh perspective Marti bought to her work as someone seeing New Zealand for the first time. 

The book concludes with Marti reflecting on her life and old age, providing wisdom and advice to live by. Most poignantly she emphasises the need to live in the moment:   

When you begin it [life or a new adventure], you have no idea the direction it will take. You can’t imagine the things that might occur during the course of it. And it’s better that you can’t. [2]    

Overall, Self-Portrait is a versatile book capable of engaging a wide audience; this book is as much about people, relationships, interactions and life as it is photography. It is an easy, yet substantive read that would pair perfectly with a nice cup of coffee and a seat in a sunny spot on a Sunday morning.  

Self-Portrait is available to read in library here at the Hocken Collections and for take home use at many public libraries throughout New Zealand. For anyone wanting to view more photography by Marti Friedlander or learn more about her, The Hocken Collections holds several of her works and publications containing her works, including:  

From our Published Collection: (links supplied will take you to the catalogue entry) 

Maurice Shadbolt, The Shell guide to New Zealand, revised edition (Christchurch: Whitcombe and Tombs, 1973). [Specifically see pages 54, 55, 63, 77, 8-, 101, 102, 144, 190, 222, 232, 240, 279 and 305 for Marti’s images.] 

Leonard Bell, Marti Friedlander, (Auckland: Auckland University Press, 2009).  

Michael King and Marti Friedlander, Moko: Māori tattooing in the 20th century, (Wellington: Alister Taylor, 1972).  [Further editions of this were published in 1992 and 2008 by David Bateman publishing, Auckland]. 

Marti Friedlander and James McNeish, Larks in paradise: New Zealand portraits, (Auckland: Collins, 1974). 

Marti Friedlander, and Jim and Mary Barr,  Contemporary New Zealand Painters, (Martinborough, New Zealand; A Taylor, 1980).

Dick Scott and Marti Friedlander, Pioneers of New Zealand wine, (Auckland: Reed, 2002).  

From our Archives and Photographs Collections: (links supplied will take you to the catalogue entry) 

Friedlander, Marti : Two prints (1979-2001). Two gold-toned gelatine silver prints of Ralph Hotere. Hocken Collections Uare Taoka o Hākena, P2010-013. 

‘Jim Allen Torso brass and bronze…photo by Marty Friedlander’ (1959). Hocken Collections Uare Taoka o Hākena, MS-0996-002/475/054.

‘John Kingston, standing figure…photo by Marty Friendlander’ (1958). Hocken Collections Uare Taoka o Hākena, MS-0996-002/475/047.

‘M[aurice] Gee, [photo by M[arty] Friedlander’ (n.d.). Hocken Collections Uare Taoka o Hākena, MS-0996-002/475/050.

Friedlander, Marti : Portrait of Gordon H. Brown. Hocken Collections Uare Taoka o Hākena, P2017-028. 

Te Papa Tongarewa has also digitised numerous photographs by Marti Friedlander, including those taken for Moko: Māori Tattooing in the 20th Century. They are available to view through their Collections Online website here.

 

References

[1] ‘HarperCollins Publishers Award for Best Cover 2014 Highly Commended’, PANZ Book Design Awards; www.bookdesignawards.co.nz/, accessed 7 April 2022. 

[2] Friedlander, Marti, with Hugo Manson, Self-portrait, (Auckland, New Zealand: Auckland University Press, 2013), pp.250. 

 

 

 

A Tale of Adventure – from the archives of photographer George Chance (1885-1963)

Tuesday, December 14th, 2021 | Hocken Collections | No Comments

Post researched and written by Anna Petersen, Curator Photographs

Figure 1 Barranquila, Colombia, South America, 1906. P1991-023/01-2222

The Hocken holds the definitive archive of works by English-born photographer, George Chance (1885-1963).  The collection encompasses all aspects of his output from original prints, negatives, and colour slides, to proofs, albums, correspondence, sound recordings, written notes and published reproductions in the form of newspaper and journal illustrations and calendars.

Photograph historian, William Main, drew extensively on this resource when compiling a chronology of Chance’s life and researching his catalogue essay for the Dunedin Public Art Gallery exhibition George Chance: Photographer in 1986.  That touring exhibition catalogue remains the main publication on Chance’s work and his influence on New Zealand photography, though others have also contributed to the literature since then.[i]

This blog serves to illustrate and probe a little deeper into one particular chapter of Chance’s life that Main only mentions in passing.  Pieced together primarily from Chance’s own written and recorded accounts, spoken with his fruity London accent, the surprising tale reveals something of Chance’s adventuresome spirit before he ever reached New Zealand and draws attention to images of more international interest that are housed in the Hocken Photographs Collection.[ii]

The story began in December 1905.  Young ‘Chancey’, as his friends called him, was working in Regent Street at the time, for the prominent London Stereoscopic and Photographic Company.  He held the position of demonstrator/instructor, showing how the latest cameras and photographic equipment operated to all manner of aristocrats, explorers and famous people.

Figure 2 Regent Street, 1907. Album 544, P2007-014/1-040a

One day a very tall man with a beard walked in and pledged to buy a complete set of movie and still cameras if the firm provided a man to accompany him on a trip and act as photographer and secretary.  It promised to be a valuable commission so ‘Marmalade’ the salesman, offered ‘Chancey’ £5 to apply for the job.  Chance obviously felt up for the challenge because that Monday he went along for an interview with the mysterious customer, who turned out to be the eccentric English hunter and adventurer, John Talbot Clifton (1868-1928).  Talbot Clifton reputably made a habit of sampling the wild animals he came across (including a mammoth found in the Arctic permafrost).[iii]

Figure 3 John Talbot Clifton, 1905. P1991-023/01-0499

Talbot Clifton thought George looked a bit young, but George (who was only 19 at the time), reassured him that he wasn’t as young as he looked and he got the 15-month contract, on condition that he got himself a tropical kit and made the ship by Saturday.  His father wasn’t too thrilled, and nor were his employers, but George managed to wrangle it and soon found himself in charge of about 30 parcels of guns and supplies, boarding the SS Atrata at Southampton on Christmas Eve.  It wasn’t until several days into the voyage that he learned that they were bound for Cocos Island, situated in the Pacific Ocean, off the coast of Costa Rica.  They were on a quest in search of lost Spanish gold. As one of several newspaper articles on the subject pasted into the back of Chance’s diary states, there were two alleged buried hoards on the island: ‘one, a pirate treasure, is valued at between six and twelve millions sterling, and the other – known as “Keatings treasure” – is said to be worth three millions’.[iv]

Figure 4 Map of the voyage, n.d. Lantern slide, P1991-023/03-032

After a rough trip across the Atlantic, the party made a number of stops in quick succession along the upper coast of South America; the first at Barbados on 4 January, where Chance got a photograph of himself in Georgetown, apparently dressed for the part.

Figure 5 George Chance in Georgetown, Barbados, 1906. Photographer unknown, P1991-023/01-0582

Moving on via Trinidad to Venuzuela, Chance was let off at the country’s main port of La Guaira on 7 January for four hours and told to get some native studies.  What his boss neglected to mention was just how politically unstable the region of Central America was during this period and as Chance recalled, he did not venture further than the pier.

A third stop-off in Colombia proved more fruitful from a photographic point of view (figures 1 and 6).  Chance recorded in his diary how he ‘Wandered about the streets [of Barranquilla] + admired the peculiar thatched houses.  Streets were very quiet + nearly all shops closed as folk we[re] having afternoon snooze.  Got some interesting photos…’.[v]  There the danger seemed to lie in Savanilla Bay where they observed five wrecks.

Figure 6 Natives and home in Colombia, South America, 1906. P1991-023-2344

The next day at Colon, Chance took some rather boring snaps if those in the Hocken Collections are anything to go by.  As he noted in his diary ‘Colon looks an awfully desolate + dreary place, had a big fire there recently so that best part of town is in ruins’.[vi]  From Colon they took a train to Panama, where they found another large fire still raging and Chance almost got his camera saturated with water by a fireman’s hose.  The real danger, however, was of a different nature as deaths from Yellow Fever saw work on the canal come to a halt.  Still, they had to wait around for the President of Ecuador, General Leonidas Plaza Guierres, to join them on the ship before sailing south to Quayaquil.

Talbot Clifton and his advisors had chosen Quayaquil in Ecuador as the supply base for the expedition to Cocos Island because of the prevailing winds, but the city would prove another hot bed of political unrest.  In an account later published in the Otago Daily Times in 1932, Chance related all the details of his conversation with General Guierres on board ship, which indicated that the leader had no real idea of the gravity of the situation.  Far from saving the day and having his troops photographed by Chance as planned, he was welcomed at Quayaquil by a horde of revolutionaries led by Eloy Alfaro and the President narrowly escaped about a week later with his life.[vii]

Figure 7 Crowd of citizens from Guayaquil meeting the boat loads of revolutionists arriving to join in the revolution, January 1906. P1991-023/01-2353

Figure 8 Revolutionists arriving by boats at Guayaquil, Ecuador, January 1906. P1991-023/01-2349

 

Exactly how much at risk the expedition party ever was at during the revolution is a little hard to gauge.   Chance wrote in a letter to his parents on 19 January from the Gran Hotel Paris:

Our ship arrived here yesterday morning.  The town is not on the sea coast as I at first thought but some miles up a very wide river, it is one of the finest towns on the whole of the S. America coast + we have put up at the very best hotel.  Mr C. has two rooms + I have a nice room to myself overlooking the river.  This is the order of the day.  Coffee is served from 7am to 9.  Breakfast 10.30 to 12.30 Dinner 5.30 up to 8.0[.]  Some of the dishes are rather curious + want getting used to but I make a point of eating plain food + plenty of fruit + this I find agrees with me very well.[viii]

We know that Chance did not want his family worrying and tensions did escalate.  The letter is unfinished and his diary entry for the same day reads ‘For hours bullets were passing our windows + striking the tin roofs…’.[ix]

There was definitely some fierce street fighting during the night when at least 150 people lost their lives and Chance undoubtedly had one or two nasty frights during his stay at Guayaquil.  Inscribed photographs provide evidence of some of the worst scenes that Chance encountered when he eventually ventured out of his room with his new friend, Captain Voss.  He noted on the back of the photograph in figure 9:

Bullet holes on plaster.  Capt. Voss is the centre right figure[.] In this native square were many dead bodies mostly the result of hand to hand fighting with knives – I was violently sick at the sight + because of any native reaction when I might have been knifed on the spot I did not attempt further photographs – 200 were killed that night. 

 

Figure 9 After the revolution, 1906. P1991-023/01-2354

Captain John Voss was another colourful character who had already acquired fame by this time for a journey he made around the world in a dug-out canoe called the Tilikum and joined the party in Quayaquil with the job of leading the treasure hunt.[x]

Sadly the treasure-hunting aspect of the adventure ended in disappointment.  Chance tells of how they purchased a 50 ton barque at Quayaquil and sailed to Cocos Island (also famous for its shark-infested waters).[xi]   They stayed only a very short time and had to abandon any further plans because of the fighting and rampant fever.  In other words, the Talbot Clifton expedition, became just another of the many failed attempts to locate gold on the island over the years, though the place continues to capture people’s imaginations in fictional accounts, from Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island to Michael Crighton’s Jurassic Park.[xii]

Back in Quayaquil, things literally began to fall apart.  Chance was developing some photographs when an earthquake struck and the front of his room fell down into the street.  According to Violet Talbot, who later wrote in an account of her husband’s life after his death (en route to Timbuktu!), ‘news came that the Chilean Government would not allow any more expeditions to Los Cocos.  Talbot had to pay off his men who were glad to be freed, for they had had their fill of danger.  The outbreak of yellow fever and the revolution were followed by more earthquakes’.[xiii]

Clifton Talbot decided to do a little exploring instead, hoping amongst other things, to find the source of the Amazon.  According to Chance, he was not allowed to follow because he was under 21, so he decided to do a little exploring of his own. Chance did not leave precise details of this part of the journey but he suffered intermittent fevers from malaria that he had contracted in Barbados and ended up in the canal zone where he stayed for several months before returning to England.

Chance was welcomed back into his old job in London, now the company’s expert in the specialised field of tropical photography. (They had tried photographing wild animals at night in Central America with the aid of a primitive kind of flash powder, but Chance didn’t like it much and it was more exciting than successful. Apart from anything else ‘there were some nasty little snakes, which looked like branches of trees, which if they bit you, well, it was good night’).[xiv]  Most notably, Winston Churchill would come for several afternoon lessons in preparation for his tour of East Africa in 1907.  This contact caused Chance to fear for his position, as Winston forgot to roll on his films and when given the job of developing the precious negatives, Chance had to front up with 200 blanks.

Chance was always ambitious and eighteen months later, he put aside photography for a while and trained to be an optician – a profession that would eventually lead to a job on the other side of the world in Dunedin in 1909.  On leaving the British Stereoscopic Company, the General Manager commended Mr George Chance, Junior for being a ‘good salesman attentive to his duties, punctual and excellent manners and address’ and that he had ‘assisted in various outdoor expeditions requiring smartness and ability’.[xv]  I dare say, not all of the outdoor expeditions were quite as dangerous and exciting as the Cocos Island mission.

Although the expedition to Central America failed to produce the great riches the Talbot Clifton party had dreamed about, Chance did manage to save £300 while he was away, which left him a young man of means, with a fine story to dine out on for the rest of his life.  In a way, the surviving photographs are the real treasure, available now to everyone in the Hocken Collections, thanks to the generosity of the Chance family.

 

References

[i] See Linda Tyler, George Chance: Improving on Nature, exhibition catalogue, Gus Fisher Gallery, University of Auckland, 2006 and David Eggleton, Into the Light: A History of New Zealand Photography, Nelson, 2006, pp. 49-50.

[ii] Thank you to David Murray for providing copies of the sound recordings in Hocken Archives, MS-5119 and to Sarah Fairhurst for her suggestions.  All figures taken by George Chance, unless otherwise stated.

[iii] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Talbot_Clifton (accessed 29/11/2021).

[iv] ‘Island’s Vast Treasures. Admiral Palliser and New Cocos Expedition. Doomed to Failure’, Daily Express, 2 April 1906.

[v] George Chance, Diary, 9 January 1906, MS 3158/142.

[vi] Ibid., 10 January 1906.

[vii] ‘General Guierrez Ups and Downs of a President’s Life: Dunedin man recalls revolution in Ecuador’, Evening Star, 21 September 1932.

[viii] George Chance, Letter to parents, 19 January 1905 [sic], MS-3176/005.

[ix]Diary, 19 January 1906.

[x] See J.M. MacFarlane and L.J. Salmon, Around the World in a Dugout Canoe: The Untold Story of Captain John Voss, Canada, 2020 for Voss’s own account of the conflict at Guayaquil, as well as details of Voss’s previous trip to Cocos Island and other photographs relating to the Talbot Clifton expedition –  which include George Chance (though wrongly identified).

[xi] See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cocos_Island (accessed 29/11/2021).

[xii] Ibid.

[xiii] V. Clifton, The Book of Talbot, London, 1933, p.280.

[xiv] Chance reel 4, 26.49-55, MS-5119.  No examples of these animal photographs are included in the Hocken Collections.

[xv] Letter of commendation, 23 October 1907, MS-3158/142.

In the Hocken Gallery: Pōkai Whenua, Pōkai Moana by Bridget Reweti

Monday, October 4th, 2021 | Hocken Collections | 1 Comment

Post written by Collections Assistant Nick Austin

It was the Hocken’s pleasure, and good fortune, to host the karakia whakatuwhera – opening blessing – for the exhibition Pōkai Whenua, Pōkai Moana by 2020-2021 Frances Hodgkins Fellow Bridget Reweti (Ngāti Ranginui, Ngāi Te Rangi), here in our gallery just prior to August’s lockdown. University of Otago Māori Chaplain Dr Helen Papuni led karakia through the gallery, followed by kōrero and waiata to welcome the exhibition and pay acknowledgements. It was great that so many guests from out of town were able to attend this special evening.

Bridget Reweti and Hocken Librarian Sharon Dell at Pōkai Whenua, Pōkai Moana opening. Photograph: Sharron Bennett

Professor Robert Jahnke speaks at Pōkai Whenua, Pōkai Moana opening. Photograph: Sharron Bennett

Sarah Hudson, Bridget Reweti, Erena and Unaiki Arapere, and Terri Te Tau at Pōkai Whenua, Pōkai Moana opening. Photograph: Sharron Bennett

The title of Bridget’s exhibition, Pōkai Whenua, Pōkai Moana, recognises two of the names of Tamatea, a principal ancestor of the Takitimu waka, who explored areas in Aotearoa including Tauranga Moana, the artist’s turangawaewae, and Murihiku, the southern part of Te Waipounamu (South Island). As Bridget writes in her exhibition wall text: “I use this connection to my tipuna who travelled over lands and seas to locate myself as a Tauranga Moana artist within Ngāi Tahu mana whenua.” It is this whakapapa that underpins the four series of works in the exhibition.

Bridget uses photography in ways that you have probably never seen before. In the series Kapo Wairua, she has produced photograms of x-ray-like details of migratory seabirds – tītī (sooty shearwater), toroa (albatross), kuaka (godwit) – onto stones cut flat on one side: pounamu (greenstone), onewa (basalt), kōkawa (andesite), pakohe (argillite). From an accompanying wall text by Matariki Williams we learn of the symbolism of birds’ departure and return, in the Māori world. For example: “Roimata toroa is a well-known Ngāti Porou tukutuku pattern that references the excreting of saline from the nostrils of these seafaring birds and is a constant reminder of necessary preparation when undertaking long journeys.” There is a haunting presence to these works that is potently summed up by the writer: “[T]hese birds compel us to always remember those who have gone before us, those who have made their haerenga to Rerenga Wairua, those for whom we continue to long […]”.

(L-R) through the fog it came and the silence of the sea (for Sarah), 2021, pounamu plate negatives. Photograph: Justin Spiers

Georgina May Young viewing after Fiona, 2021, toroa skull photogram on basalt. Photograph: Justin Spiers

It makes sense then that certain people from Bridget’s artistic whānui, some of whom have passed away, are paid tribute within works’ titles. On this note, the thoughts of many people in Ōtepoti Dunedin have recently been with Marilynn Webb (Ngāti Kahu, Te Roroa), a much-loved and influential artist who spent most of her artistic life in this town. Marilynn passed away just days after Bridget’s exhibition opened. As a mihi to Marilynn, when installing the exhibition Bridget chose to present three works by Webb on the mezzanine level outside the Hocken Gallery, from her 1980 Aramoana Fossil series.

Ghostly images combined with tactile materials are used again by Bridget in another series Summering on Lakes Te Anau and Manapouri. Last summer she travelled with friends into Fiordland to trace the movements, evident in landscape photographs from 1889, of Alfred Burton of the famed Dunedin-based firm Burton Brothers. She re-recorded Burton’s views with a conciousness of there being lore – placenames and histories long held by mana whenua, Ngāi Tahu whānui – that he would not have known. As a gesture to this gap in understanding of place, Bridget has coloured her photographs with the pigments of whenua from those very places, given to her by local people.

4870 – LIVING THE DREAM, 2021, whenua coloured silver gelatin photograph. Courtesy of artist

Summering on Lakes Te Anau and Manapouri series in Pōkai Whenua, Pōkai Moana. Photograph: Justin Spiers

Rauhina Scott-Fyfe viewing How to drain a swamp series in Pōkai Whenua, Pōkai Moana. Photograph: Justin Spiers

There is a strong sense of whanaungatanga – kinship – in every aspect of Bridget’s work here, from production to exhibition. Whakapapa too, not only in the sense of familial and artistic genealogies but in there being all sorts of layers of, or connections between, land and people, images and materials. An immaterial presence within the gallery is somehow articulated by the audio recording of taonga pūoro played by Alistair Fraser that accompanies the large moving image work, Like a rock against the tide. These atmospheric sounds float through the gallery’s open doors as a gentle but persistent entreaty: you should come in.

Still from Like a rock against the tide, 2021, HD Moving Image with sound

Pōkai Whenua, Pōkai Moana is open (in Level 2!) Monday – Saturday, 10am -5pm, until 30 October at the Hocken Gallery, 90 Anzac Ave, Ōtepoti Dunedin.