We Also Share Our Mother’s Health (2025)
4 Channel sound installation
56’33’’ (loop)
‘We Also Share Our Mother’s Health’ is a five part sound suite that explores the blurred boundaries between the natural and built spaces, incorporating field recordings from areas affected by flood damage in Tāmaki Makaurau between 2022-2024.
These pieces involve melding the organic and the inorganic together in part to question what our future might look like as we require increasingly complex technological interventions to survive in the unstable environment we’ve created.
Upcoming @ Te Tuhi
Compound Fracture (2023)
2 channel sound installation
24’ 55’’ (loop)
‘Compound Fracture’ is a sound work comprised mainly of field recordings from the summit of Maungawhau and the surrounding area. These recordings have been digitally altered and augmented to create a sonic environment for contemplation and reflection; an opportunity to consider the compounding environmental, political, social and economic crises that are increasingly starting to dictate the rhythm of our lives due to a continual avoidance of forward planning and climate change action.
Context
Maungawhau (English: ‘hill of the whau tree’) is a long dormant volcano situated near the city centre of Tāmaki Makaurau (Auckland), Aotearoa (New Zealand). In pre-colonial times, the mountain was an enormous Māori pā, a fortified citadel that supported thousands of inhabitants. Even today, there are visible signs of different working and living spaces, as well as pits for growing and storing food crops. The name Tāmaki Makaurau translates to ‘Tāmaki, desired by many,’ a reference to the area’s fertile volcanic soil and strategic location between two harbours for fishing and trade. In the years since European colonisation of the country, the areas around Maungahwau have been built up into affluent, leafy suburbs, full of residents who are politically resistant to housing density and public transport infrastructure. These areas are increasingly symbolic of the city’s lack of civic planning and consistent
pandering to a generation of wealthy property owners - to the detriment of successive generations after them who are shut out of the badly broken property market. This trend disproportionately affects indigenous people, as they are further distanced from their ancestral lands.
On January 27, 2023 a combination of factors including the annual La Niña weather cycle and other heatwave conditions exacerbated by global warming created a system of heavy rain that caused some of the worst flooding in the country’s history. The storms resulted in widespread damage to Northland and Tāmaki Makaurau, with houses flooded and roads destroyed in landslips.
Several weeks later, Cyclone Gabrielle caused further destruction to these already flood-affected areas, as well as further down the east coast of the North Island. These events have set off widespread debates about mitigation and adaptation policies in the face of man-made climate change, as well as how to repair and rebuild massive swaths of the country during a time of persistent economic hardship.
The foundational document of Aotearoa, New Zealand was signed on February 6, 1840 in the small North Island town of Waitangi. In the 183 years since the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi, indigenous knowledge, wisdom and practice has been consistently ignored, subverted and denied by the colonial governments of New Zealand; in the last 30 years this has regressively given over to the dominant capitalist/neo-liberal economic model of the west. As climate change increasingly raises questions surrounding managed retreat, support for lost homes and industry, and more efficient building practices, this adherence to the cult of ‘personal responsibility’ and profit first economics has been found severely wanting. All the while Maungawau sits silently in the
midst of a failing economic and social structure, a reminder of a previous time when people lived in a more respectful and reciprocal way with the natural landscape around them.
HACKING THE FUTURE // group show // 13.05 – 01.06.2023 // MATCA Artspace
of un-learning and re-learning (2020)
2 channel sound installation
16’ 49’’ (loop)
//
To find yourself inescapably facing yourself
sensations of life creeping in
To confront yourself with what is unknown to you and relish in the
uncomfortable slowness of learning, of experimenting, of instinctive response.
Taking joy in this lack of knowledge as new layers slowly unfold.
Looking with new eyes to nature for models and structures to learn
from,
to envy plants for their slower, heightened sense of time.
the messy life of the biological
as refuge for the desensitised life of the social.
The sound piece 'of un-learning and re-learning' is a small collection of intuitive, improvised moments and movements; an external expression of everyday efforts to find different coping mechanisms and ways of working.
SHOW-OFF 3 - BETWEEN EMERGENCE/Y AND ESTABLISHMENT // group show // 09.2020 // House of Culture, Cecălaca // in collaboration with MATCA Artspace
Reparations (Sun Rises in the East Mix) (2020)
2 channel sound installation
19’ 57’’ (loop)
//
The ecstasy of the unknown
unmovable untouched by marks of navigation
why is the measure of belonging distance?
longing crippled into stunned foreignness
passing captured on broken screens
passing in passing
accelerated
caressed
morphing and changing
constantly continuously
to be light grown heavy
grounding
reaching a field or a bottom
to put belonging down
to form attachments
to have an anchor, to be able to safely float in the distance
a soft anchor to lay your head on.
//
A LATITUDE FOR THE LOWEST, A LONGITUDE FOR THE SAFEST, AND A CLUE ABOUT THE UNKNOWN // group show // March 2020 // MATCA Artspace
Remote Cardiac Arrest (2018)
2 channel sound installation & live performance
37 56’’ (loop)
//
The ecstasy of the unknown
unmovable untouched by marks of navigation
why is the measure of belonging distance?
longing crippled into stunned foreignness
passing captured on broken screens
passing in passing
accelerated
caressed
morphing and changing
constantly continuously
to be light grown heavy
grounding
reaching a field or a bottom
to put belonging down
to form attachments
to have an anchor, to be able to safely float in the distance
a soft anchor to lay your head on.
//
A LATITUDE FOR THE LOWEST, A LONGITUDE FOR THE SAFEST, AND A CLUE ABOUT THE UNKNOWN // group show // March 2020 // MATCA Artspace