Nau mai, haere mai, welcome to EyeContact. You are invited to respond to reviews and contribute to discussion by registering to participate.


Robin White Survey

View Discussion
Robin White, Fish and chips, Maketu, 1975, Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki, purchased 1975 Robin White: Paekakariki Hotel 1, Aspells, 1970, screenprint; Olympia, Maketu, 1973, screenprint Robin White: Mangaweka, 1973, oil on canvas; Sam Hunt at Bottle Creek, 1970, oil on canvas; Fortress house, Paremata, 1973, oil on canvas Robin White: Harbour Cone, 1973, graphite on paper; Harbour Cone, 1972, oil on canvas; Self portrait with Harbour Cone, c.1976, graphite. Robin White, Hooper’s Inlet, 1976, Fletcher Trust Collection, Tāmaki Makaurau Robin White: Te Whanaketanga | Something is Happening Here (installation view), Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki 2022. Robin White and Te Itoiningaina Catholic Women's Training Centre, New Angel 3,  from the series New Angel, 1998, Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki, purchased 2000 Robin White, Sainimele Goes Fishing series, 1995, woodcuts Robin White and Keiko Iimura, Summer Grass, 2001, Collection of Aratoi Wairarapa Museum of Art & History Robin White and Taeko Ogawa, August 6, 2019, on loan from the Ballin Collection Robin White and Ruha Fifita, Moana Loloto - The Crimson Sea (installation view), 2014, Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki, gift of the Patrons of the Auckland Art Gallery and the artists through the Auckland Art Gallery Foundation, 2018 Robin White: Living in a Material World, 2017, barkcloth, earth pigment, natural dye; That Vase, 2019, barkcloth, earth pigment, natural dye; Something is Happening Here, 2017, barkcloth, earth pigment, natural dye Robin White, Tamari Cabeikanacea and Ruha Fifita, Living in a material world, 2017, Collection of The Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa, purchased 2018 Robin White: Looking for Ikons of Place, 2021, tapa; Soon, the Tide will Turn, 2021, barkcloth (masi), earth pigments, soot, plant-based liquid medium; The Perfect Silence of the Hour, 2020, barkcloth, earth pigments, natural dye Robin White and Ebonie Fifita, Soon, the tide will turn (installation view), 2021, commissioned by the Art Gallery of New South Wales. Photography by David St George. Robin White, Looking for Ikons of Place (installation view), 2021, on loan from the Ballin Collection. Photography by David St George.

The items in this survey that interest me are those with exterior and interior architectural content. (No people.) I really like them. Early on we see buildings in contextualising harbour landscapes that wave to Binney (and occasionally Angus), and at the end we see the décor of uninhabited rooms containing (usually) wearable articles and contemplative household objects, resting on ornate furniture. The show finishes at a peak, for she has a flair for abstraction, especially when her pictorialism is flattened.



Robin White
Te Whanaketanga / Something is Happening Here


Curated by Sarah Farrar and Nina Tonga


22 October 2022 - 30 January 2023

This large informative survey of Robin White‘s art practice (much of it collaborative) includes over seventy items made between 1970 and 2021: mainly paintings, prints, drawings, photographs, and a bound workbook. (Some super-enormous hiapo works—too big to be contained on any single gallery wall—might perhaps be called sculpture.) The exhibition is the result of a partnership between Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki and Te Papa.

Although its title partially comes from mid-sixties Bob Dylan, the show focusses on Aotearoa, a wider Pacific sensibility, and the landscape, people, architecture, and religious philosophies that White loves.

Some artists are indifferent to their surroundings, focussing on making work that has no connection with their immediate location. White is not one of those. Her biography can be tracked by sequencing an art production that is linked to her passion for getting involved with different places and communities, tied to a series of various homes and travels. Therefore works can be connected to locations like Bottle Creek, Portobello, Tarawa (in Kiribati), and now Masterton.

The items in this survey that interest me are those with exterior and interior architectural content. (No people.) Early on we see buildings in contextualising harbour landscapes that wave to Binney (and occasionally Angus), and at the end we see the décor of uninhabited rooms containing (usually) wearable articles and contemplative household objects, resting on ornate furniture, inlaid tables or tiled floor. The show finishes at a peak, for she has a flair for abstraction and decoration, especially when her pictorialism is flattened.

The items in this survey that don’t interest me are the lugubrious (if not maudlin) portraits, or clumsily modelled figures and faces like in Aio Ngaira—this is us. Instead of her painting, I’d rather look at her more successful woodblock and linocut prints for nuanced plasticity when rendering human physiognomy—where bone structure is alluded to better. In spite of her long interest in narrative and place I prefer her more formal compositions. They work really well where geometry is applied to receding or picture-planed space.

White‘s woven images on dyed pandanus leaves are fascinating precursors to the much larger hiapo hangings that have intricate, patterned stencilling, feathery texture rubbings, and elegant Japanese / Persian space. Complexly made, the earlier depicted food items such as a loaf of bread or can of fish are like simplified small buildings, seen from the front, that we have privileged intimate access to.

Their wit lies in combining Pop Art subject-matter (seen in illusory space) with the (unbiblical) dust of one’s feet (countered by hospitable dry matting on the floor: one interpretation); or with sharing prepared meals or hot drinks (offset by absorbent table mats: another reading). Two functions meet as one—representations of consumerist brands and household practicalities for when enjoying them. Image, pragmatic and social requirements are inseparable.

In my view, the most intriguing work in the show is Summer Grass, 2001, a collaboration with Keiko Iimura. A long work depicting a dry paddock and picnic tables, painted on wallpaper, it seems like a very skilled blending of Bill Sutton’s South Canterbury landscapes, Michael Hight’s cylindrical hay bales, the structure of McCahon’s On Building Bridges, and Bill Hammond’s bird paintings. Highly evocative with a lot of air, it is super mysterious, very ambitious, and the best by far of the outdoor landscapes.

As I’ve said, the show ends with a bunch of wonderful interiors that have a gentle musical quality, not only through rhythmic pattern, but also through the repeated use of depicted wall edges and large expansive rectangular planes that tonally affect the mood. There is an unusual emotional intensity that is hard to put your finger on. A calming stasis.  White has talked about her love of Matisse. A hint of the geometry of Seurat also perhaps?

In an adjacent gallery video the artist talks about the specific choices of depicted object, how they have intended meanings, but I’m not sure that matters for the viewer, for they participate in a more porous interpretation. Their experience is bodily, not a list of rattled off creative intentions—more an emotional coalescing of the senses—though they might recognise the symbols.

One other work I admire, because of its extraordinary impenetrability and ambiguity, is the very large Moana LolotoThe Crimson Sea, 2014, a huge, black, highly textured, tapa rectangle, with undecipherable symbols buried underneath it. Made by White with Tongan artists, Ruha Fifita and Ebonie Fifita, it is intended to declare that the word and love of God has no limits, like the fathomless ocean, an incredibly positive thing. One might think though that it references Revelation or Exodus, and alludes to a bloody Armageddon, or a global climate disaster causing the calamitous demise of our planet. The title sounds gory, but the red refers to the colour of the iron pigment under the black (of candlenut soot).

That apparent turbulent pessimism, with a grim Old Testament ethos, is not the case. The final rooms that come after it introduce a calm serenity, and one of the exhibited titles states Soon, the tide will turn, a brilliant offering of hope, as if anticipating and counteracting the contrary interpretation. An optimism in the resourcefulness of our species in its ability to survive, and faith in the power of Love—and Art itself.

John Hurrell

Print | Facebook | Twitter | Email


Recent Posts by John Hurrell

Chia-En Jao, REM Sleep, 2011, installation view, three channel video. Photo by Samuel Hartnett

SE Asian Working Migrant Anxieties




Chia-En Jao
REM Sleep

20 August - 22 October 2023

Lynn Hershman Leeson, Logic Paralyzes the Heart, 2021, (installation view, Te Tuhi, 2023) single channel video, wallpaper, photo by Samuel Hartnett

Human-Cyborg Conversation




Lynn Hershman Leeson
Logic Paralyzes the Heart

20 August - 22 October 2023

Raymond Zada, Barkindji people, At Face Value, 2013. National Gallery of Australia, Kamberri/Canberra purchased 2014. This acquisition was acquired in recognition of the 50th Anniversary of the 1967 Referendum.

Spectacular Indigenous Australian Survey




Indigenous Art from the National Gallery of Australia and the Wesfarmers Collection

Ever Present: First Peoples Art of Australia

29 July - 29 October 2023

Gerold Miller, TO 15, 2020, lacquered aluminium, 180 x 180 x 11.30 cm; Florian Maier-Aichen, Untitled, 2017, C-print, 79.50 x 95.50 cm

Exultant and Optimistic Abstraction




International group show

1 September - 30 September 2023