In the Gallery
Clare Fleming, The momentary triumph of aggression over tenderness
Bronte Perry, Awaiting Paradise
August 28th- September 14th
Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron; thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel. Psalm 2:9
In the memory of my grandmother’s house I can hear Armageddon. It bubbles and seeps underneath the floorboards, whispering cold horrors from the ashtray and old Cody’s on her kitchen table. It’s in this house that family values and religious dogma formed a site of corruption of kinship, a place where religious practice and abuse were amalgamated into one another. Where whanaungatanga was lost as the fragility of colonial kinship cracked under its own weight.
My hands buried deep among the pamphlets of his leather bag, a brother of the faith once told me:
“The dead will rise again Bronte, and you will be greeted by them in lush fields laden with fruit.”
I still dream of her kicking and flailing as she screamed for god to not let her die. The stress of not knowing how to respond to her passing was more traumatic than watching her beg wildly for god to save her; for we are taught to not speak ill of the dead – or the dying. Between the spatters of fluid that were filling her lungs, Tim said “we will meet you again in paradise”. But I wonder still if she found her way to Hine-nui-te-Po or whether the assimilated lay aimlessly in purgatory.
I no longer think of paradise but I still dream Armageddon, the crumbling salt pillar of Lots wife and Linda singing Poi E as she drowned.
September 18th- October 5th
Opening September 18th at 6pm
Caitlin Clarke and Arwen Mirama Sommers, A weakened dark in the deepest, deepest blue
Wild flowers spilling into the earth
Spilling into the woods
Wild spirits spill into our hands
Into our feet
A weakened dark in the deepest deepest blue
Ancestors calling from our stomachs
Mediate your intentions
Shall we learn about our relationship with ourselves first, before we learn to place stones.
We must acknowledge that we don’t exist without our relationship to space. Is it that our separation from our place in nature is causing disruption.
Caitlin and Arwen have been investigating how to place intentions carefully. Through returning to spaces they find significant, they have been transforming their experiences of these places to find new meaning, where memory becomes the thread to bring you deeper into yourself.
They invite the viewer to slip back into childhood and to explore the rope of the immaterial world through how our human intentions affect spaces.
We welcome you to come, renew your thread, and start a ripple.