THE YEAR THAT
Illustrator Gavin Bishop, 72, on a year of overwhelming events
Gavin Bishop
The most unlikely things happened in 2011. Some of the events I shared with thousands of others and some were experienced only by me. In early February I went to the Taiwan book fair in Taipei and was amazed by the enthusiasm of the visitors. Some slept out overnight to get into it. I’ve never seen people being that enthusiastic about books.
When I got back, my wife and I left for a holiday in Nelson. We went out for lunch with some friends on February 22. Half an hour later one of my daughters rang to say a huge earthquake had knocked Christchurch off its feet. The next day we drove back through Christchurch, which was a complete wreck. When we got home we couldn’t get inside because the ceiling in the hallway had fallen down and blocked the doors. When we eventually got in we were met with complete devastation.
I belong to a trust called Painted Stories that supports New Zealand children’s book illustration. At the time of the February earthquake I had an exhibition of my illustrations from a fundraising book called Quaky Cat, that I’d done with Diana Noonan. It was in a small gallery in Victoria St and the external walls had fallen into the street. No one was allowed in because it was too dangerous, and my artwork was left exposed to the elements for three or four months. Eventually we were given an hour to go in, and the work was perfectly all right.
There was another major earthquake on June 13 — my youngest daughter’s birthday. I was sitting at my computer and there was a rain of bottles of ink and books and all sorts of stuff from the walls around me. Later that afternoon, my wife and I decided to go for a walk. We called in to see some friends and while we were there an even bigger earthquake struck. I had the surreal experience of sitting in full, bright sunlight watching the effects of the earthquake. My friend rushed to save the TV, fell on the floor and couldn’t get up. My wife got in a door frame. The walls of the room were reshaping themselves as if they were cardboard. A cabbage tree was being shaken like a bunch of flowers, although there was no wind. I just sat in my chair with my coffee watching it all. It was an incredible experience, made more incredible by the brightness of the light.
In July, we went to South America. We went to the Iguacu Falls, where I was overwhelmed by the amount of water, then we stayed on Copacabana beach for two weeks before coming home to the remains of a heavy snowfall.
The minute I was back, I started a new book — Mr Whistler, by Margaret Mahy. When I finished, I took the artwork to her. She sat and looked through it, but she was not very well. She died in July and the book was published in October or thereabouts,
At the same time, like everybody else, we were fighting with the Earthquake Commission about repairs. The year just went on like this — a whole year of events that wildly contrasted with each other.