INSIDE WOW THE RAINBOW
When the capital is cloaked in colour the world is wonderful, writes Kim Knight
The first thing I noticed was that Wellington wasn’t wearing black.
The home of the monochromatically chic civil servant with the matte lipstick and short-but-interesting hair was dressed like a garden.
Kōwhai yellow. Kākā beak crimson. Waterlily-leaf green. Sequins and pleats and pockets full of binoculars — all the better to spy the action. It was opening night at the World of Wearable Art and although ’d expected a kaleidoscope on stage, what wowed me first was the audience. Wellington was blooming. And it didn’t stop there. Want to touch that rainbow? Tickets to the 2020 World of Wearable Art are now on sale. I took in last year’s opening night and then spent the weekend in wider Wellington — it was a polychromatic party for the senses.
Red
Christine was in the pantry. Her shirt was red, her skirt was red and so was some of her dirty washing. The 1973 Jacqueline Fahey painting (literally Christine in the Pantry) sucked at my eyeballs. The label said the work was “a study in the psychology of suburban confinement”, which really makes you appreciate being a woman in 2020.
Earlier, at the QT Museum hotel, I lay on a bed far bigger than Christine’s pantry, contemplating a room service breakfast. In the end, I took the lift to the Hippopotamus Restaurant where someone else made me a coffee before I walked to the Fahey show in the New Zealand Portrait Gallery.
Take a left at Te Papa and follow the waterfront signs to the historic red-brick building (Shed 11) which houses art that stars you, me and everyone else who calls this place home. Okay, possibly not exactly you and me, but the aim of the frequently changing exhibitions is to present portraits of the people who have shaped New Zealand politically and culturally, or influenced the way we think about ourselves. This is the bigger us, as seen by someone else.
Current exhibitions include: Being Chinese in Aotearoa: A Photographic Journey. nzportraitgallery.org.nz
Orange
By the time you read this, the 200,000 pieces of “confetti” that formed a two-storey ticker tape parade suspended in the middle of Te Papa will have been moved on. This will have come as a great relief to those who viewed the Nike Savvas’ Finale: Bouquet at their own peril.
According to the sign at the time of our visit: “If items drop into the artwork, we can’t retrieve them until January 2020.”
The garden is inspired by botanical paintings from the country’s first fully coloured art book by Sarah and Edward Featon. And now we’re deep down a research rabbit hole, because as Dr Rebecca Rice wrote, in 1919, some 134 of Sarah’s original watercolours were bought by the Dominion Museum. The artist was widowed and desperately poor, and “The £150 she was eventually reimbursed for her collection likely only went a short way to ease the future finances of her family.”
The orange in this modern garden comes from her painting of taurepo, a trumpet-flowered (and threatened) species pollinated by the country’s tapered-beak honey-eating birds.
Te Papa connects people to place. On right now: Tatau: Sāmoan Tattooing and Photography — pain, identity and innovation via the lenses of four photographers. tepapa.govt.nz/visit/exhibitions/toi-art
Yellow
It was the most kōwhai of kōwhai. A billowing tree in full flower, exactly spotlit with late-goldafternoon sun. It was a tree to cross the road for, although you’ll probably want to browse at the infamous Aro St Video which has every video you ever wanted and many with other people’s names on them, because they have adopted this fading art. Wellington — so caring.
I was in Aro Valley for dinner at the absolutely brilliant Rita where the cutlery is in the drawer under your table and tonight’s menu will be handwritten in front of you by your waitperson.
Snapper croquette sat on a splodge of saffron-yellow sauce; the custard square filling was the pale-yellow of full-fat creme patisserie. It’s called Rita for the coowner’s grandmother, although the scatter cushions reminded me of the camelyellow coat worn by that other capital Rita, from the 1936-7 self-portrait, Rita Angus. Wellington — so cultured.
(Bonus yellow: The gorgeous kōwhai lights at Hillside Kitchen, but more on that later). rita.co.nz