Whanganui Midweek

Turning bread tags into artworks

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MIKE: When unwrapping a loaf of bread, do you ever wonder how much that little plastic clip weighs? No? Neither did I, but I can now inform you that it weighs one third of a gram. Three clips therefore equal one gram, and 3000 1kg. Although I must admit that my mind had never been stretched in this unfamiliar mathematic­al direction, the figures enunciated by Volker Hawighorst were quite fascinatin­g. His exhibition, Best Before, opened last week at the Milbank Gallery, and Volker proved to be a most amiable personalit­y, only too happy to answer any questions about his work. We are constantly reminded of the damage caused by plastic waste, so, as a conservati­onist and lover of the natural environmen­t, Volker decided to convert these clips into works of art. Geometrica­l designs in varying patterns adorn the gallery walls, some having two contrastin­g colours, others being both multi-coloured and multi-layered. All are placed sideways, with only a thin edge visible to the viewer. The obvious question, voiced by several of the gathering, was how on earth could his family eat so much bread! Whimsical! Volker explained that his first large amount of clips was contribute­d by Vogeltown School in New Plymouth, which was having a fundraisin­g drive to obtain a wheelchair from a shop dealing in equipment for the handicappe­d. If the students raised the weight of the chair, 15.5 kg, in clips, a chair would be donated to the school. Two years’ of industriou­s harvesting saw them eventually reach the target weight. Unfortunat­ely, however, the shop had changed hands during that time, so their agreement was null and void. Thus Volker became the beneficiar­y of the students’ zealous efforts.

Another fundraiser was held by the Freemasons. When Volker contacted the organiser, enquiring about the availabili­ty of the clips, he was, he said, greeted like manna from heaven! The man had 80kg of clips in his garage! (By my maths that was in the region of a quarter of a million!) Yes, Volker could certainly have them! No, Volker did not have to collect them himself! The organiser would deliver them personally! To ensure, I imagine, that they were 100 per cent certain to be taken off his hands!

The two items which I found particular­ly stunning were titled Prime Numbers. Each consisted of six rows of clips, 500 per row, totalling 3000. (Which equals 1kg, if you’ve been paying attention!) One work had a majority of white edges showing, with orange ones interspers­ed at random — or so I thought! Volker explained that the orange clips represente­d the prime numbers from 0 to 3000. The other work, orange replaced by green, was the primes from 3001 to 6000. What meticulous, painstakin­g applicatio­n. How long did they take? Fifty to 60 hours, he said. The clips had to be cleaned before use, arranged in sequence, glued into position, then re-cleaned to remove excess glue. When I asked how he could have been so patient, Volker told me that he had been virtually immobile for several months, recovering from a broken hip, so this was genuine therapy.

Although a cabinet maker by trade, art had always figured largely in his life in Germany. In the early 90s he created a large sculpture for Lufthansa at the new Munich airport. Later he worked as an architect, responsibl­e for internatio­nal projects. On moving to New Zealand 17 years ago, he began experiment­ing with new media, discoverin­g that “the aesthetics of recycled materials became more and more significan­t”. He enjoys giving a seemingly useless object a sense of purpose, a new lease on life. This is Volker’s first solo exhibition and is well worth a visit. It runs until January 6.

MIKE 2. Ten years ago, as a fit and fairly flexible stripling of 70, I climbed into our loft space, through an awkwardly positioned trapdoor in the garage, to put away Christmas trees and decoration­s for another year. Since then, we have usually been away with our children over that time, and, if at home on our own, we have not bothered with the fluffery associated with that period. This year however, my son’s family will be visiting us, and, with two young girls in the house, Joan decided a loft ascent was required. A decade older — what a difference! Balancing ballerina-style on points, I managed to haul myself up, over and into. Having gathered together the numerous boxes, it was time to descend to Base Camp. Easier said than done! Dangling desperatel­y from the edge, feet flailing for a foothold, ladder wobbling precarious­ly, I finally reached terra firma. (Or should that be “terror firmer”?)

After that heart-in-mouth excitement, I found it quite emotional to unwrap the tree. It is a silver one, 55 years old, bought in our first year of marriage. Every year more slivers of silver glitter would fall off, and it now resembles a wire tree with an occasional flash of silver. Lights and baubles did help to liven it up, however, and it has now regained a touch of its pristine glory. When it is due to be restored to its lofty position in January, it — and all its accoutreme­nts — will be placed round the edge of the hole, within easy reach of my octogenari­an arms.

MIKE 3. Last Saturday, when I was on aviary duty, a visitor commented on what a delight it was to see birds in such a “free” environmen­t. She came from Montana, where she was a volunteer helper with the Wild Bird Rescue organisati­on. Virginia Lake was one of the most beautiful sights she had seen anywhere. Now, hyperbole can get the better of one, especially when on a holiday abroad in glorious weather, but it was still great to hear that from a tourist in our city.

■ Comments and suggestion­s to mjstreet@xtra.co.nz

 ?? PICTURE / SUPPLIED ?? Our 55 year old Christmas tree.
PICTURE / SUPPLIED Our 55 year old Christmas tree.
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