Tina Pihema, Salome Tanuvasa & Natasha Matila-Smith | Clean Slate

Opening event Wednesday September 19, from 6.00pm

Window Galley, Auckland

Growing up in Aotearoa public schools, the artists in this exhibition have each had experiences with the nationally recognised School Journal. Since 1907, the School Journal has delivered Aotearoa-produced content to motivate, excite and engage young students. In ‘Clean Slate’, the School Journal is personified and used as a site and physical object for exploration; a site for production and self-organising, with particular focus on how the book encourages the dispersion of information through creative output and the collection and sharing of personal stories. Using the Window gallery space as an open journal and a live site for ongoing collaboration and disestablishment of hierarchy, the artists invite a series of collaborators, and at times the audience, to contribute to the aesthetic outcome of the work.

Window online

Hana Pera Aoake, Body fluids are poetic, not slime but nectar (1)

Rūaumoko squirmed inside Papatūānuku’s womb. Each time he squirms fire and rock and lava pierce through the Earth. As Rūaumoko grows he comforts Papatūānuku in her grief and lives in her belly keeping her company. Each time he rises up to the surface the Earth shakes violently and splits before Papatūānuku calms him. You said I calmed you the way no one else could, but now we don’t speak at all. In the apocalypse will you think of me? What if the rāhui will never end. Kauri used to grow in thick forests all across Te Tai Tokerau and down into Tāmaki Makaurau and King country. Some of my ancestors cut these forests down, some wept at their erasure. All the other trees started to rot in the green muck spilling in from tramper boots, the dairy sludge and the piss that stains Papatūānuku killing Tōtara, Tānekaha, Taraire, Tawa, Miro and Rewarewa. What happens when it’s all gone and can never be undone. Stay at home and drink a beer. Remember we are all just plugged into the Matrix. Queenie does a karanga at Honeanga’s tangi. Who are these people I dream about? They call to me in my sleep. Would you come to my tangi? The precarity of everything is a crushing weight for anybody to carry. Please help me I am hurting very much.

An interactive text by Hana Pera Aoake.
This text was written in response to Georgina Watson’s project Larks in the dawn, published earlier this year on Un Magazine. The text is availabe at http://unprojects.org.au/magazine/issues/issue-12-1/larks-in-the-dawn/

  1. Dodie Bellamy, “Sex space” in Academonia (San Francisco: Krupskaya, 2006), 35.

Window Galley

Date(s) - 19/09/2018 - 15/10/2018
All Day