Feet
Here’s a coincidence. After writing a blog about hands yesterday (see below), last night I noticed the feet on this small child, who was standing on the wide Matai floorboards at my studio. I took several shots just to see what the feet would look like after they’d been photographed.

Templates

There are certain shapes that I am drawn to again and again. In a way they are templates.
Here are two photos taken three years apart.


MOTAT
A photo taken last year at MOTAT (Museum of Transport & Technology)
in Western Springs, Auckland. This is, of course, a diorama.
Not only was I revisiting my love of aeroplanes,
but I was also returning to some of my persistent themes.

The first is the question of scale. Often with my work it is a little difficult
to work out just how big the subject really is.

The second is the theme of whether or not the subject is real, or fake.

The third theme that I recognise is the way in which I seem to be interested in
the spaces between obects within the frame. In fact sometimes the spaces seem
to be one of the main reasons for taking the photo in the first place.

I don’t deliberately set out to take photo that illustrate these themes, they just
seem to pop up.

Hercules over Herald Island

For some years I lived on Herald Island, which is in the upper Waitemata,
and right off the end of Whenuapai airfield, an airforce base.
These planes, and assorted others, regularly flew past my home.

Herald Island is named after HMS Herald, the ship which,in 1840, took the
Treaty around NZ as signatures were collected. During the few days in Auckand it
explored the upper reaches of the harbour and circumnavigated what was to become known
as Herald Island. There is no known Maori name, although in later years it also became known as Pine Island.

When married to Kendrick Smithyman, who was teaching in the tiny sole charge school,
Mary Stanley wrote a poem which went ‘cut off by tides, we here are islanded.’


Note.

Today I discovered that by clicking on a photo on this site, an enlarged version often comes up. However it does not work with images in the sidebar.

An invitation from Real Pictures in 1980, to an exhibition of photographs
by four painters: Denys Watkins, Paul Hartigan, Tony Fomison, & Don Binney.

Recently I was chatting with Don Binney and he mentioned how this photo
was printed back-to-front. He parts his hair on the other side.

Two photos that will be in an upcoming exhibition. The top one is recent, the lower one
about two years older.


This photo of a Trout was taken in Lake Taupo in 1987. At the time I made about
a dozen prints, and in keeping with my practise I have never printed up any more, in spite
of requests from time to time.

I do not have any more of these available for sale so anyone wanting one has had to wait for one
to come onto the secondary market. This is something that has hardly ever happened, as owners of the prints enjoyed them too much, and also seemed to be aware that it was, in the future, going to be much more valuable.

Now, however, in the latest Webb’s auction catalogue one has appeared. Estimated price range is from $4000-$6000 which is, rather low, but typical of auction prices.

In the previous auction, works from the Jim Fraser collection, there were also several of my photos sold including Meccano Bus. The estimate on this was $3000-$5000 and it sold for $6000, setting what Webb’s say is a new record for a single image in one of their sales. (Although I’m not entirely sure if this is true, true for one of my images yes, but others may have bettered this. I my be wrong.)

What are your influences?

I’m often asked this by students, and sometimes I explain that one of the biggest is that was brought up in a very rural environment. Animals of all descriptions, both wild, and domesticated were part of my everyday life.

This is a photo taken at Taheke, in the Hokianga, where some of my most formative years were spent. This is my father with our dog Whisky, and one of our horses, I’m not sure which one, perhaps Ginger, or Five Bob, the latter so named because he was a wild horse rounded up and sold by local Maori for that sum. Taheke was a predominantly Maori area and my life was very affected by my contact with them.

Our horses were tamed and taught by my father to perform tricks. Everything was gently done and I never saw any force used.

A photo of my father, taken a few hours after his death.
At my request, the undertaker allowed me to help him prepare the body
for cremation. Born in Gisborne in 1904 he died in Auckland at the age of 92.

I’m sorry that I didn’t take more care with organising his top lip. It’s come out looking
a bit lopsided, and I could see that at the time but somehow I lost my nerve. I should
have been more patient.

Overall though, helping the undertaker in this way was a positive thing to do, healthy
in many ways, a natural conclusion.

I’ve been thinking about this event a lot lately because I’m writing down as many of my early
memories as possible, and naturally my father is a frequent player in many of these.