Blog Archives
Grant Priest – All by the side of the runway where it hums

Grant Priest
All by the side of the runway where it hums

4-21 November 2020

Kohuora Auckland South Corrections Facility is a prison complex operated by Serco, a multinational corporation based in the UK. Serco takes on contracts from governments around the world to operate public services on their behalf. The services they operate range from prisons to hospitals, border patrols to immigration. This complex is located next to Matukutūreia, a quarried out Pā site in Wiri, South Auckland, once home to a thriving Māori community with some of Aotearoa’s earliest remaining examples of Māori agriculture.   This initial film work is the beginning of a project exploring the relation between this land, the prison complex and my presence in this space. It approaches the problematic descriptive nature of film. It is intended as a documentation of time spent with this space; finding the lay of the land, familiarising myself with the environment and the wider structural and everyday contexts within which this facility exists.

Krystina Kaza – It’s a fine line

Krystina Kaza
It’s a fine line

4-21 November 2020

This exhibition makes use of a line that travels around the gallery, becoming an organising device that  supports work and integrates it with the architecture. The resulting interior environment sits somewhere between the Weiner Werkstatte’s notion of the Gesamtkunstwerk or ‘total work of art,’ which sought to create a unified aesthetic across a designed environment, and Adolf Loos’ and the Bauhaus’ rejection of the Werkstatte’s decorative tendencies in favour of a stringent functionalism. The line here is functional: it supports works physically and unifies different types of work.  It is not, however, immune to decorative flights of fancy: the decorative nature of the line transforms the ‘white cube’ of the gallery, softening it and giving it a slightly more domestic feel.  .

The idea of an interior ‘baseline’ goes back to Roman times, where painted or moulded lines were used to frame frescoes, and to create faux architectural details. The line in this exhibition will play off of traditional interior devices such as wainscoting and picture rails, which were functional, but which were also used to organise interior spaces,  connecting them to each other and creating visual focal points.  

Some of the work in It’s a Fine Line begins with imagery of historical abstract and decorative designs, while some of it begins with photographs taken in daily life – often while on walks or commuting to work. The combination of photographs and historical imagery kicks off a drawing process through which the work develops.  Some of these drawings and photos are included in the exhibition to create a context for the work, and to open it up to new interpretations.  

Deanna Dowling – Hold

14 Oct – 31 October 2020

Hold is an exhibition of moving and still image works by Deanna Dowling. An extension of her ongoing research into the architectural design and lifespans of domestic dwellings, this body of work explores the architectural detail of a small wooden joint peg collected from a demolished house in Tokyo.

Central to the installation are two moving image works that consider the material from different positions. Using research material collected while in Tokyo and micro CT scanning, the imagery slices through the layers of the wood to reveal cell structure, species and microorganisms present. Hold gestures to the possibility of revealing the potential movements of this small object before it was used in the construction of a house; a prompt to reconsider the relationships between materiality scale, form, historical facts and anecdotes attached to found objects.

Ashleigh Taupaki – Matā

14 Oct – 31 October 2020

Matā can be used to sever the umbilical cord upon birth, and is buried with the whenua in a place that becomes one’s tūrangawaewae. With this in mind, Taupaki collects minerals and objects from places, or in reference to places, that are significant to her identity as a wahine Māori. Creating hammocks, beds, and appropriate display stands, Taupaki acts as kaitiaki for these non human beings, and allows them to take shape of their own accord. Ties to the whenua as both placenta and land are brought forth through reciprocal nurturing and memory.

Sophie Bannan: Cyan ides

Sophie Bannan 
Cyan ides
24 September to 10 October 2020

Gelignite admits the fire
Vein obsequies scabs
Kōtukutuku admits the gorse

track the common scrubby associated –

Water drives those two hills
Deep gully receives the milk

go up the suitably-inscribed fine to moderate grained –

Sluice scabs the layers
Cyanide scrutineers
Water wrenches
Continuance drives the swines

persuade the auriferous sound bounded –

Māwheranui locates the body
High hedge locates the moonlight
Grey River receives continuance

run the cool flattened –

Mullock steams the bush gullies
Mists pace the shapes
Bush flat persuades the vein

run the encompassing driven –

Timber inspects the firewood
Quartz reef learns the river

relax down grassed bounded wet –

Kāmahi receives the water
Gold approaches

split the more open cool driven –


Sophie Bannan (b. 1989, Aotearoa New Zealand) is an artist and writer living in Tāmaki Makaurau. Her research is multi-modal, working across image and object making, writing, publishing and curating.

Marlo and Ena Kosovac

Marlo and Ena Kosovac
Conduits, props, leftovers and other attempts to reach across irreducible differences in the search for knowledge of an intimate other

24 September to 10 October 2020

In Space R you’ll find several of my attempts so far to draw back the curtain of another’s accountable experience through objects that act as a channel towards more intimate knowledge of his world. The ‘another’ in question is Marlo – a nine-year-old Rottweiler and the love of my life. Through the building and shifting of our relationship over time, which in turn has shifted how objects are made in this practice, I have come to think of Marlo very seriously as a collaborator and co-creator.

I tell you this because it feels strange even writing this little piece of text all on my own, without his input. Which, of course, would be impossible anyway. It has been a knotty problem. How do I avoid putting words into Marlo’s mouth? How do I avoid speaking for him? How do I avoid simply imagining his world, instead of getting to know a slice of it in a real, material way? At the same time, there is a risk of poking my nose into affairs that are not my own to access. I don’t think Marlo would care, but it’s something to ponder.

In putting a toe over the smudgy threshold of our different ways of being as members of two separate species, I hope to take deeper notice of the undefinable in others through co-created social intimacies and the ‘worlding’ of mutual grounds – all mediated through sculptural objects as gadgets of play and exploration.

And, because I’m sure I’m not the only nosy person out there, I invite you to do the same. Please feel free to touch and experience any of the objects in the space (if you want to). There will be sanitising wipes and sprays on-hand to help prevent other, more deadly, critters from joining in.

Giulio Laura & Fabio Meliffi : Mining: Twenty-First Century Raw Material

Space R
3 Sept – 19 Sept 2020
For us, disavowed materials form our local habitats and exist as a byproduct of human activity. 

The practice of Mining is to appropriate oneself with otherwise unclaimed resources and collect this free basic material, The Twenty-First Century Raw Material. This abundance of seemingly infinite materia affords our process welcoming experimentation and failure. We mine what we value.

“Technological Disobedience” the Cuban’s systematic disrespect towards complexity, closeness, and exclusionary characteristics of industrial objects’ logics – Ernesto Oroza. “Worker, build your own machinery” Che Guevara Insisted in a 1961 speech as the Republic of Cuba faces scarcity of resources due to the country’s economical and political crisis. Cuban workers were to strategize a self-production, repair, reuse and repurpose. A re-appropriation of technologies took place and trickled down from an industrial necessity to domestic commonplace.

In the 21st century, technology is evermore airtight, closed to the user, rejecting repair and facilitating disposal. Intervene on the object’s authority by repairing it, capitalizing on planned obsolescence becoming a co-designer to the open-source ecosystem. 

Home is a laboratory.


Turumeke Harrington : Te Āwhiowhio Suck it up!

Space M
3 Sept – 19 Sept 2020

Rules, logics and codes are carefully considered by artist Turumeke Harrington. Harrington frames this exhibition, Te Āwhiowhio Suck it up!, as a type of pause between a tight turnaround of five, separate solo exhibitions. The show follows on from overlapping exhibitions at Objectspace and the RM booth for May Fair Art Fair, and precedes upcoming shows at Corban Estate Arts Centre and Toi Poneke Gallery. Te Āwhiowhio Suck it up! is the mid-way point, the middle of the wall so to speak, as good a place as any to stop and reconsider what makes a good hang.

This exhibition revisits components—LED light bulbs, cords, steel, rope—from Harrington’s last two exhibitions. These materials are more commonly associated with the functional. Here, however, conventional supports are intentionally rendered purposeless. Light bulbs shine in a room already filled with natural light. Rope cords are threaded through brackets, neither of which hold or suspend anything. Their functionality short-circuited, it is the otherwise overlooked formal decisions that come to the fore. When should a bracket be hot pink, and when should it be yellow? What is the best colour for cords and ropes? When should a lightbulb be hung upright and when should it be hung facing down?

Sam Clague: Drink The Ocean

Drink The Ocean
29 July — 15 August 2020

…But how did we do this? How were we able to drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the entire horizon? What were we doing when we unchained this earth from its sun? Where is it moving to now? Where are we moving to? Away from all suns? Are we not continually falling?… 

Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science

Drink The Ocean is an exhibition that explores the object-as-information, and the semiotic payloads indivisibly accrued by even the most quotidian object in the global contemporary environment. 

Clague’s works are elisions in the true sense of the word: as aporia, an irresolvable internal contradiction that gets to the heart of what it means to both reject and join forces with our turbid desires. Perhaps it’s something like the poet Anne Waldman describes when she takes on the dark spirit of Richard Nixon during a fire puja ceremony: in order to generate more compassion for the world we have to let in the negative energies as well as the positive.  

Abbra Kotlarczyk, Art+Australia Online

Joanna Neumegen, Emmanuel Sarmiento and Jessie Howell: Could I steal a moment?

Could I steal a moment?
29 July — 15 August 2020

Memory like death has a way of seizing time.

I think about keepsakes and mementos as symbols of fear. Fear of forgetting and fear of being forgotten. Emblems of evanescence. A key to unlock the door to a placeless time or a timeless place.

I often think about what I’d grab if the house was burning down. It could only be something small enough to run with. My phone or that photo? I can always get a new phone… I can also think of them without their picture. Have you ever closed your eyes and pictured a face? Forcing the image onto the backdrop behind your eyelids. I can secure a shape, but as I grasp at it and try to look closer, the translucent impression shifts and the details escape me.

There is an argument to be made that perhaps all existence is escapism. The only realities we are capable of inhabiting are our escaped ones. If this strong view turns out to be true, then the only way to directly experience escape would be to die. The ultimate crash.

In the car yesterday my chest got tight and I was scared we would die on that motorway. Why do I fear death? Maybe because it’s the ultimate surrender of control. Every time I dream I’m in a car I’m always in the passenger’s seat anyway. Why are we so obsessed with eternal life?

Sometimes I feel fine. Other times I’m gripped by uncontrollable fear. I disassociate and everything around me is a bit too bright a bit too abstract. Some omen is telling me something bad is going to happen. The consequences of living life like Hannah Montana. Hanging suspended from everyone I once was. A subject shaped in response to a network of associations, conversations, things I’ve latched onto; receipts of my existence. Every secret I hold onto is a notch on my belt, hung in the
wardrobe of my former selves.

Everything was forever until it wasn’t.

RM Gallery and Project Space
Thursday and Friday 1pm - 5pm
Saturday 12pm - 4pm

Samoa House Lane
Auckland Central 1010

We are located in the centre of Auckland, close to Karangahape Road. We are on Samoa House Lane, just off of Beresford Street -- look out for the incredible fale of Samoa House and you're nearly there.
We are  2 minutes walk from Artspace, Ivan Anthony and Michael Lett.

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A safe space is a space where the LGBTQI+ community can freely express themselves without fear. It is a space that does not tolerate violence, bullying, or hate speech towards the LGBTQI+ community.

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