The following text completes an agreement of exchange between Emil Dryburgh and Mordo Barkley, for the painting Collection of E. Dryburgh, swapped for Five Hundred Words, 2015. I’m pretty sure this kind of stuff happens all the time. Nepotism is the oil that greases the art world’s wheels, and everybody likes to be nice to their friends. Admittedly, the transaction is not usually as literal as this, but the principles of reciprocity and mutual gain are the same. It could be said that Mordo Barkley is using me as a hired gun, a means to inflate the brand through the written medium by which art is traditionally assessed. At-least we’re conducting our bargain in broad daylight, better than the smoke and mirrors of many a ‘critical reception’. I’m not the first to strike a bargain with Barkley. The artist has already bartered transactions with writers, designers, gallerists, and even a constructions manager. While trading art works is in itself not uncommon (McCahon constantly bartered his paintings), the method is rarely used to access the knowledge …

As a fairly recent migrant to Brisbane, I’ve recently become aware of a quaint Fortitude Valley exhibition space called Media Art Asia Pacific (MAAP).   I assumed from the name that this space specialised in Asian and Pacific arts.  Indeed, the organisation is a staunch advocate for contemporary and historic Asian arts (and rightly so).  Interestingly enough they also advocate some European and non-indigenous Australian artists.  But from what I gather, there are very few, if any, Pacific heritage artists associated with MAAP. Frequently listing themselves as supporters of Asia-Pacific art, this blanket term is  problematic.  By using this, they commit a disservice to Pacific voices which are often overlooked.  Most importantly, they also evade the responsibility to specifically represent artists of Pacific heritage. The ever-shifting Shangri-la* or the concept of the ‘Asia-Pacific’ can hardly be held responsible for a lack of representation in a gallery that boasts itself as a supportive organisation for ‘unmapped media art activity from Australia, Asia and the Pacific.’  AND THE PACIFIC.  The description of MAAPs ambitions are further unravelled …

Note: I could not cover everything in this article nor was I trying to, this is just some thoughts that I had post the Symposium on my experience over 2 days of talks and manākitanga. This years ST PAUL St Curatorial Symposium was centred on alternate ways of being and knowing. It’s a social event for New Zealand’s curatorial community, really. There were talks by Julia Moritz, Cassandra Barnett, Léuli Eshraghi, Peter Brunt, Misal Adnan Yildiz and Marysia Lewandowska and manākitanga by Public Share and Local Time. The first four talks where led by speakers qualified with or on their way to a PhD. Despite the academic heft present, much of the time was spent considering alternate (non-academic or university sanctioned) ways knowing, often involving a process of unlearning. Learning, then unlearning. It can all be a bit of a vortex if you think about it for too long. Much of the energy seemed to be spent theorising what could otherwise be seen as instinctual. A common thread of the symposium was the use, redefinition …

What is it like to live in an imaginary city? Through IOWA I was involved in a project called Unreal City Estate, created by Jun Kitazawa and curated by Sara Black. This was a satellite project as part of the 2015 International Award for Public Art conference (IAPA 2015), hosted by the Elam School of Fine Arts, the University of Auckland, Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki and the Shandong University of Art & Design. The Unreal City Estate in Albert Park, Auckland was a place “where people get together and create ‘an imaginary city’ that could exist alongside the real city we live in today.” Anyone is able to lease out their own plot of land on Albert Park and respond to their chosen site how they wish. It was a city within a city, in the public context of a park between 11 am and 3 pm on Sunday 5th July. Kitazawa’s practice primarily involves working with small communities and revolves around the idea of the small festival, following studies by scholars such …

Let’s be honest, Howick can be terrifying for a young person of colour. Everything about me is West Auckland, which is a community I feel very comfortable in. I blend in, and anyone would, really. Howick, however, feels like another world. Regardless of diversity, across our supercity is evidence of our council’s love of multi-purpose arts facilities. These hubs of creative activity have mandates to appeal, serve and reflect their local community. Maybe that’s the reason my West Auckland self never ventured to Uxbridge —perhaps I was not the desired audience? Walking into the once Presbyterian Church, turned gallery space and theatre, we are greeted by the black and white analogue photography of Joyce Campbell. Te Taniwha and The Thread are two series created by Joyce in collaboration with Ruakituri historian Richard Niania. Through photography, Joyce captures various sights across Wairoa exploring local mythology, history and ecology. This exhibition is a significant mark for Uxbridge (soon to be called Malcolm Smith Gallery), reflecting the turn of a programming era headed by the newly appointed curator Balamohan …