Research proposal
- 6 February 2025
Gone is the forest's labyrinth of life.
My practice explores the loss and devastation of land, focusing on the Piako Swamp in the Hauraki Plains and the disappearance of the ancient kahikatea forest that once thrived there. I aim to capture the lasting ecological and social consequences of its destruction.
Once the country’s largest wetland, the Piako Swamp was of immense significance to Māori, who valued it as a mahinga kai—an essential source of food and resources—and regarded wetlands as highly productive and sustainably managed taonga. In contrast, Pākehā colonists and settlers viewed wetlands as unproductive wastelands to be drained and repurposed for agriculture.
Māori see themselves as part of the environment, rather than separate or superior to it. This perspective aligns with Bruno Latour’s concept of interconnectedness, where human and non-human entities are entwined in relationships, and care extends beyond people to the land and all living things.
Until the late 19th century, international law permitted ‘civilised’ nations to claim land inhabited by ‘savages’ under the doctrine of terra nullius—land that was considered to belong to no one. Once New Zealand was ‘discovered’ by European nations operating within this framework, colonisation began.
Traditional European pastoral painting often depicts cultivated landscapes as harmonious and controlled, reinforcing human intervention as a positive force. Early paintings by botanists and artists who travelled to New Zealand with James Cook, as well as those employed by the New Zealand Company, such as Charles Heaphy, were used to promote a vision of the land—cleared, flat, devoid of indigenous inhabitants, and ready for settlement. Depicting the Hauraki Plains today is frustrating—the green fields, trees, and rivers suggest a romanticised, celebratory scene, obscuring the destruction beneath. Conversely, reimagining the vibrant, lush kahikatea forest risks idealisation. How do I depict loss—of ancient forests, bird and aquatic life? Of Māori displacement from their mahinga kai and whenua? How do I acknowledge my Pākehā family’s role with care? On one hand, I want to depict the devastation of life on the former Piako Swamp; on the other, I need to acknowledge my family’s role in this transformation—their search for a better life intertwined with the broader narrative of environmental loss.
I reference historical photographs and maps that highlight human intervention in the wetlands and experiment with bright, unnatural colours to avoid romanticising the history, drawing inspiration from artists such as Anselm Kiefer, who challenges traditional landscape tropes. Kiefer’s art often explores themes of memory, destruction, regeneration, and the weight of history—particularly Germany’s past. He employs diverse materials including ash, straw, clay, sand, creating surfaces that feel weathered and eroded, evoking decay and the passage of time. His work challenges traditional notions of beauty, often confronting the viewer with a sense of loss and devastation.
To deepen this exploration, I am collecting historical family photographs, and to expand this archive, I am organising an event in my childhood town, Ngātea, inviting family and friends to contribute old photographs and stories, strengthening the link between personal histories and the altered land.
I work with watercolour on paper—a medium deeply tied to colonisation through topographical painters and botanists, yet also intrinsically connected to water and the swamplands. I highlight water as an active agent in my paintings, using natural effects like granulation, blooming, and puddling to evoke contamination, seepage, and transgression. My process involves collecting and testing water from Piako Swamp sites, revealing layers of contamination. By incorporating this water—carrying traces of the whenua—into my work, I aim to create paintings that remain chemically unstable, resisting archival permanence. In this way, the work itself may embody loss.
Bibliography:
Flower, Michael, and Maurice Hamington. 2022. “Care Ethics, Bruno Latour, and the Anthropocene.” Philosophies 7 (2): 31. https://doi.org/10.3390/philosophies7020031.
Hill, Carolyn, Waiari Macmillan, and Landscape Foundation. 2021. Kia Whakanuia Te Whenua : People, Place, Landscape. New Zealand: Mary Egan Publishing, Landscape Foundation, Carolyn Hill.
Monin, Paul. 2001. This Is My Place : Hauraki Contested, 1769-1875. Wellington, N.Z.: Bridget Williams Books.
Park, Geoff. 2018. Ngā Uruora = the Groves of Life : Ecology & History in a New Zealand Landscape. Wellington, New Zealand: Victoria University Press.
Park, Geoff. 2006. Theatre Country : Essays on Landscape & Whenua. Wellington, N.Z.: Victoria University Press.
Schama, Simon. 2004. Landscape and Memory. London Harper Perennial.
Shaw, Richard. 2021. The Forgotten Coast. Massey University Press.
The title of the project comes from a line in the poem ‘The Passing of the Forest - A Lament for the Children of Tané’ by William Pember Reeves. [ https://ndhadeliver.natlib.govt.nz/webarchive/20210104000423/http://nzetc.victoria.ac.nz/tm/scholarly/tei-reelong-t1-back-d2.html ]