Wed 9 February.
I have just returned from a visit with other half (1). When we bought tickets to the trail we were told that the tour took about an hour.
I reckon that it took us closer to three hours.
What that actually says about us I cannot imagine; either we are geriatrics, or, being art connoisseurs, we just take longer to appreciate such things. I will just add that there was one part of the trail that involved climbing a steep track up a forested hill to an altitude of one hundred meters or so. On the way there we saw warning signs that indicated it may not be suitable for the infirm. On resumption of the trail we saw signs that indicated we had made some sort of achievement in completing that part of the trail.
So, maybe we are not a pair of geriatrics. There again, maybe it is but a ploy by the trail’s owners to make prospective buyers feel good about themselves.
I must say that I am intrigued with Art and the powers of subjective consciousness.
Some of the first exhibits that we saw, although supposedly being very original in concept, with their component-parts being well-made, were in fact to me anyway so well-made, that one who had knowledge of modern fabrication techniques, such as C.A.D and the use of computer-assisted profile-cutting equipment might tend to become suspicious as to how pieces were actually fashioned. Which may lead on to the age-old question What is Art? Is it the ability to maker the viewer simply wonder as I did (about the actual fabrication methods of some pieces) and ask myself the questions
‘Is a welder or black-smith not an artist? Did the artist who arranged some of the more machine-produced looking piece, merely go to a fabricators with a cutting list, or did he or she spend hours with hand tools making the components from plate or sheet metal’?
When I looked at a few of the pieces on display, the true meaning of art morphed into what it really is. It is the ability to part rich people from their money. Some of the exhibits on display were for sale and I think many had artistic merit, however, more than a few pieces made me think otherwise.
One of two principal pieces that got the question marks flowing was Flotsam by Jeff Thomson. According to the brochure that is given to visitors when they purchase their ticket:
‘The artist here explores the kinetic possibilities of his signature corrugated iron, floating pieces that are intensely lyrical both in their form and movement.
Four bit of Flotsom
Call me a Philistine by all means, but, in my opinion they are just a dozen or so randomly cut pieces of old (not of antique value but just old as opposed to new) corrugated-iron that have been beaten up a little and twisted in a way of very little artistic merit, then affixed to a float, perhaps a piece of wood that is moored in a pond by means of a rock (?) on the bottom and piece of cord in order to hold it in its approximate position.
OK, it’s a nice idea and may lead one to muse is it Yin, or is it Yang? or, ask oneself if the weights that hold the pieces in position are solid copper or merely gold-plated? Or, is it the viewer that has the ability to see the inherent contradictions of the piece the real artist?
I know that iron has gone up in value these days but really wondered if these pieces of corrugated (that were less than a meter in width and about one-and-a-half in length) were a true bargain at $NZ1800. Each!
There is surely one born every minute.
Another piece that made me think was called Wairuaatua by Tracy (no not Emin but) Tawhiao. Though its artistic merit was just about as much as in An Un-made Bed,
only without a few packets of half smoked fags thrown in for good measure.
Hmmm!
I must say I do see an element of humour in the piece. The symbolism in the graffiti meant nothing to me; but of course, I am not a Maori.
I don’t even have tattoos. Perhaps there is an element of wryness in the description in the words ‘the beauty of impermanence’ in the trail’s guide. I say this because the piece looks like a dunny to me and what better symbol of the transience of life could there be?
I did not see if the piece was for sale or not.
The catalogue only said ‘commissions available’
but if it is on the market, maybe I am wasting my time writing and go into building sheds.
Would you believe that I have such a piece as Wairuaatua in the back garden of my home in France. If not antique value, I think it has at least genuine vintage value as it is probably between 50 and 80 years old.
I am a Philistine! When I moved into the house the toilette exterieur was covered in ivy, some of whose knotted stems were about three inches thick at their bases, also, bamboo (some of which was >25 feet in length) was growing so profusely both through the floor and around the building that entry to it was absolutely impossible without cutting it down. So not only did I destroy an artistic statement in cutting down the bamboo, I went further and tore out some of the gnarled and twisted ivy that is now impossible to re-create the effect of the piece in a short period of time. The dunny at my home took at least 50 years to get into the condition that I found it in when I first saw it.
It is not ersatz nor artificial.
It is for real.
What is it worth? I wonder.
Some of the pieces are not shown in this and some are.
http://www.brickbaysculpture.co.nz/
To be ex pan dead
Even more photos to come.
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