Month: March 2024

Women as creators and artists

Ngaio Marsh Painting by Olivia Spencer Bower

The four session course Women as Creators and Artists at the WEA finished yesterday. I expected an academic approach. The handouts had that, but mostly we had an immersive experience, visiting the Christchurch Art Gallery Te Puna o Waiwhetū across the road and talking about women’s lived experiences.

From Housewives of Art by Sally Swain

The course featured the work of New Zealand women artists over time. We were taken into one of the stores behind the scenes of the Gallery to look at the work of various artists involved in the Canterbury Group. Two curators as well as our tutor contributed knowledge and anecdotes about the artists, how they worked together and influenced each other.

Representations of the Canterbury landscape

The last two sessions featured current artists. These were notable for their ethnic diversity as well as their approaches to their art. Some of these exhibitions were ones I would have passed by as ‘not my thing’ and I realise I’m a ‘grazer’ of art. The course helped me to look again. One installation featured cat’s cradle-inspired structures in luminous, almost neon, string. Subsequently, when sunlight lit up an intricate spider’s web running from my dressing table to a shelf I thought of that installation and marvelled at the spider’s skill. As soon as the sun moved, the web became invisible.

Yesterday, we looked at women’s contemporary art on the ground floor of the gallery, beginning with a large hooked carpet and seat which depict the Canterbury landscape. Spring is heart-break, a line from an Ursula Bethell (1874-1945) poem, was a theme which artists depicted in a variety of media. Often natural materials were used such as driftwood and kelp. I thought of the driftwood structures people have made on the beach and lakeside I visit.

Artist: Heidi Brickell

I thought of Mahuika, keeper of fire, who produces fire from her fingernails in the manipulated photograph below. Here, she seems to be about to light her cigarette. Looking more closely, I observed the mis-match (haha) of images – the stiff curtain against a plush replica couch, on which is superimposed the woman with silvered hair and painted thick eyebrows fashionable with young women now, wearing a clumsily-made formal (bridesmaid’s?) 1980s dress. She has a calculating look on her face, and is she making a rude gesture? Revenge is one of the themes of the series of photos of which this is one. Ancient power defying modern expectations of femininity could be one interpretation.

The Breath of Uru-te-ngangana (atua of light) by Tia Ranginui (1976-)

A series of large paintings showed skewed perspectives, nightmarish characters and odd combinations which “signal a desire to create a new, messier world by turning our current one inside out” according to the accompanying notes. I didn’t know how to express that in my own words!

Artist: Priscilla Rose Howe (1994-)

Our tutor encouraged us to volunteer as gallery guides which involves three months of training. She told us that you learn by teaching (as I know) and reminded me of the heading of our first handout: “Art, Looking at, Seeing, Understanding”. Probably, on my own, I would have passed the Priscilla Rose Howe paintings with a bit of a shudder. Now I feel braver to look, see and try to understand.

Our course finished with these statements, which our immersive experience has shown.

Art is a product of its time and place.

By the inclusion of women, art and society has changed dramatically in the last 100 years.

Art, especially for women, is useful.

Our tutor was Diane Swain

Trash or Treasure

I parked my bicycle in a bike stand made of pallets, impressed immediately by the creative recycling in action evident everywhere in the Richmond Community Garden.

Seedlings from the garden for sale and home-cooked food
Lid recycling stand and upcycled cable drums
Composting garden

Today was Gala Day. I joined friends to browse the art and vintage stalls in front of Avebury House. We had lunch from food stalls: Japanese dumpling and pancake and wrap, and found a shady spot to eat, entertained by the activity around us.

There was a wee playground for under-3s, face painting, harake/flax weaving, the library-on-the-go bus, a local Labour MP, lots of nature-themed information, a board announcing a tiny house village to come, a DJ booming out bass beats, Scottish dancing, and a huge area of car boot sales. There seemed to be a number of families clearing out unwanted books and toys – much like my clear-out this week. The one in the photo below caught my eye. Is that an R2-D2 suitcase on wheels? We have a complicated relationship with stuff, I thought as I saw children choosing how to spend their pocket money. In a place which exemplifies recycling and living sustainably.

Lottsa shiny stuff – and even a stack of tiles

I brought home a long-sleeved t-shirt which cost $5 (blue and white stripes, of course – and too big but, hey, I can roll up the sleeves) and two pairs of Little Goddess earrings (made by the young woman who sold them to me and told us about her work) and a pair of daisy-shaped earrings from a woman from the Netherlands.

How many earrings does a person need? I asked myself as I found a place to put them on my dressing table. Many of my earrings were gifts, and many were bought overseas. Small treasures made by innovative, creative people to make simpler people (me) feel better, and bought from museums, art galleries, local artisan shops and markets.

Each morning I choose a pair which suit my mood or the mood I would like to be in that day. Clearly, I have many moods!

Not the end of the book

The casual observer might not notice anything has changed, but I can see there is more breathing space in my book shelves. A flier arrived yesterday announcing a big annual book sale and today I set to work.

I have four bags of books – and a few CDs – to donate. I gave away most of another bag full of children’s books to children walking home from school with their parents outside my house. One little boy clutched the stories about dogs to his chest.

I have weeded out reference books, Shakespeare books, some poetry, novels, non-fiction, and a couple of cooking books.

Children’s books
Shakespeare books
Reference books
General books
NZ books
Books about books

I can imagine you thinking these photos were taken before I weeded the books. No. These are the after photos, and only some of the shelves. It’s by no means the end of the book in my house.

Tiny Treats

Picked from the garden today, these little autumn raspberries and blueberries will be delicious sprinkled on our peach (from a friend’s garden) dessert – the only way I can get Mum to eat fruit. She has it with a deluge of cream and an avalanche of icing sugar, while I prefer a splash of yoghurt. The grapes are a refreshing and healthy snack just as they are.

Old lady blues

Today my tyre hit a kerb for the second time this week. What’s going on? It’s bad enough that I’m driving a Suzuki Swift granny car (even if I’ve zhoosed it up with a few accessories). Also, that note left on my car the other week haunts me each time I park. “Learn how to park,” it said.

Then I found myself browsing for ages in the temperature gauge section of the hardware store today. I was fascinated by digital devices which can tell you the temperature inside the house and out. I already look at the Met Service app on my phone most mornings before deciding what to wear. Am I becoming obsessed with the daily weather just to fill in the time that stretches before me into oblivion? I ended up buying a cheap thermometer with large numbers – suitable for elderly eyes.

My brother-in-law (who is not elderly) has a fascinating weather station which tells you everything you’d ever want to know including wind speed and rainfall – perhaps even phases of the moon. You just read the screen fixed on a wall inside the house.

I could be tempted to buy one of those old-fashioned weather houses where a little man comes out the door with an umbrella when it’s going to rain, and a little woman disappears inside. She comes out when it’s sunny – probably to hang out the washing. I don’t think they make those anymore. It would go well with our cuckoo clock. Speaking of kitsch, when I was a child Uncle Bob gave me a glittery poodle ornament which changed its sparkles with the weather: blue for rain, pink for sunshine. I loved it, but dust did for it in the end, sticking to the glittery bits so the weather was just overcast.

We have a couple of inherited barometers. I remember Dad tapping the one that hangs on the wall. Mum reads it from time to time. “The glass is rising,” she will say. “What does that mean?” I ask peering at it and wondering which hand you’re supposed to look at.

Aunty Ruth’s barometer
Dad’s barometer

I’ve just gone hunting around the house for thermometers and found these:

The one on the right is, appropriately, beside a drawing of Shakespeare’s ‘Seven Ages of Man’. Perhaps, as the title of this post suggests, I’ll take up yodelling next – or, imagine this: a yodelling-blues fusion. It could work. Come to think of it, we’ve already experimented with both those genres at Singing for Pleasure on Thursdays at the WEA – where retirees go to keep their brains active.

It’s cold!

How did this happen? One minute you’re in shorts, and the next you’re digging merinos out of the back of a drawer. Last night we had our first fire for the year. According to my 2023 diary, our first fire was on 21 March and we had rainy, windy weather around that time which blew down my runner beans and turned my umbrella inside out. But we also had ‘gorgeous’ days and continued to paddle at the beach.

When I noticed Mum reaching for a knee rug yesterday afternoon, I knew it was time to light the fire. Felix was quick to find a fireside chair. He is quite recovered from his annual visit to the vet for his vaccination. He came down from the top of the cabbage tree just in time to make the appointment. His weight has doubled since his appointment in March last year, but he is still lean at 4.46kg and is advised to eat more wet food each day to ensure he is hydrated. Felix is quite happy about that. Despite the three claw punctures in his right ear, there’s no sign of infection. He has the odd altercation with visiting cats, such as the one he bailed up on the roof this week. Felix has a ‘don’t mess with me’ look on his face which seems to work despite the other cat being much larger.

This morning, he’s enjoying the sun. Notice that Mum has put her walker aside; she is walking independently more often.

Design Dilemmas: Bathroom Blues

The man in the bathroom outlet store (‘outlet’ as in trading, not plumbing) reminisced about his grandmother using a blue bag to whiten the sheets. He was forthright, practical and, above all, humorous, which was a refreshing change from the serious salespeople we’d met up to that point. “No,” he said, dismissing a vanity top I thought might go. That’s what I needed to hear.

The outlet store gave us an insight into how the basin and vanity top we had selected would wear. Shop-soiled and often seconds, they showed unfortunate marking and we, thinking of me coming in from the garden with grubby hands, changed our minds again.

Here we are, me and my Bathroom Advisor Extraordinaire, back in the main showroom, looking contemplative and serious. We’re matching a ceramic, semi-recessed basin with a hard ‘Carrara (but not really) marble’ surface (shown in the block sample) and the floor tile.

Back to the drawing board. My B.A. (Ext.) suggested a mood board. I patched something together over the week.

My blue-mood board (a Pages document)

My mood got bluer as I obsessively found, selected, then re-selected and moved things about. I researched all manner of toilets, looking for one that had some character and a high pan height. My other sister-in-law advised chrome tap ware, as the gunmetal we’d chosen would probably date. She and my brother endorsed the idea of a high pan height for the toilet. Gradually my mood board took shape.

Although still a work in progress, the mood board has helped (as B.A. Ext. knew it would) to visualise the end result and the planning seems pretty much complete. Here’s hoping. Such a fuss about a tiny space! But I was shocked to see what my bathroom looked like back in 1993 before the first renovation (see top left corner of mood board) and I remember how difficult it was to remove all that red paint – and the layers of paint underneath. Now, this new renovation is necessary to address the sinking floor and the impractical shower-over-bath.

Meanwhile, B.A. (Ext.) found a digital programme and made a 3-D model.

You can move it around (but not on this screenshot) and visualise how it might look, hence the well-deserved new honour: ‘Extraordinaire’. And, hopefully, we’re done with the bathroom blues.

Mighty Melon

It’s proving to be a good season for New Zealand watermelon. We’ve enjoyed a few already, but you have to choose your moment and means of conveying it from the shop to home. I saw a woman drop one the other week. Car seemed the best option, but the traffic was busy. I chose to walk, taking a string bag, and lugged the watermelon home bumping against my bum – so it was well cushioned.

At home, I lowered the melon cautiously onto the scales thinking it would exceed the weighing capacity, but it came in at just over 4 kilograms.

Inside it is deep pink and very tasty and juicy (excuse my rubbish attempt at cutting. Perhaps I should have dropped it instead).

It’s practically seedless, and the pink flesh goes almost to the rind, so there’s little waste. This is a refreshing treat on a warm, sunny afternoon.

Call in the experts

“I can manage that myself,” I told the arborist when he offered to trim this pittosporum six months ago. Then birds nested in it. Before I knew it, it was heading for the power lines again. It was an effort to trim from the top of a wobbly ladder, with my arms at full stretch holding heavy hedge clippers. Some bits I couldn’t reach, so it looked as if it had a lopsided mohawk. I shoved the clippings under a camellia.

Today, I had another go. I planned to head straight through with loppers, getting the large branches as I went. I climbed down from the ladder to inspect my efforts. What a mess! Stark cut branches stuck up at the top and a pile of branches was half way up the ladder. And I was hot, sweaty and scratched. I rang the arborist.

A cheerful start to the day

Ruby Red kiwifruit are available again – for a short time, I expect. They are my favourite kiwifruit – a complex and fruity flavour. I was quick to buy them when they appeared in my local fruit and vege shop the other day, but by yesterday there were none. I would imagine that most of them are exported, like most of our primary produce.

I will enjoy the few I have each morning while they last.