….if you knew me.

I have curated an exhibtion at DEMO, Auckland NZ

invite A4 final

In 21st-century suddenly everyone cares about climate and how it might or might not be changing, the atmosphere is filled not just with CO2, but with information and misinformation, blame, denial and handwringing. Beneath this cloud of discord, hype and anxiety we collectively and individually face a bewildering array of options and responsibilities.

The artists in If You Knew Me variously observe, reflect upon and engage with the increasingly familiar moments of awkwardness and uncertainty that now populate daily life. Small but uncomfortable choices and decisions that prickle us as we struggle to negotiate how we should now live as human-people in the epoch variously named the Anthropocene, the Capitalocene or the less pronounceable Chthulucence[1] proposed by Donna Haraway. Uncomfortable with the ‘Anthropos’ of Anthropocene, Haraway suggests that the current moment is not so much an era in itself but an interlude between the benevolent Holocene and a yet to be definitively named future epoch, a hiatus she terms “The Great Dithering… a time of ineffective and widespread anxiety about environmental destruction”[2]. A stuttering pause in which we know something must be done but are not sure how to do it, who should do it or what should be done. An extended moment of bewilderment as we see the reliable face of Nature, backdrop and resource of our human drama, dissolve into a disinterested biosphere, a cyclic network of entities and agencies in which we are one of many presences. In this version of ‘world’ there is no ‘infinite earthly resource’ and no ‘away’ between which to cradle the machine of human progress. With no valid prop for human exceptionalism other than self-interest and habit we are left to navigate an abrupt transition from a Nature we once stepped-upon, to a teeming biosphere within which we must negotiate a human niche.

The four artists in If You Knew Me engage with digital video, using the medium to acutely observe moments in which we dither in the face of mundane activities once considered inconsequential,  now appear suddenly suspect or even duplicitous.




[1] Donna Jeanne Haraway, Staying with the Trouble: Making Kin in the Chthulucene, Experimental Futures Technological Lives, Scientific Arts, Anthropological Voices (Durham London: Duke University Press, 2016).

In the term Chthulucence Haraway invokes the Chthonic ones, the ancient, ancestral powers of the earth, who cannot be contained or ignored.

[2] Haraway.

The World is Enough: On Overmining and Undermining

i would like to have a conversation about this

Larval Subjects .

It seems to me that one of the greatest ethical challenges for thought is to encounter the world as being enough. While ontology ought not be evaluated on ethical grounds (i.e., we shouldn’t let a set of ethical and political commitments determine what is or isn’t ontologically true), it is nonetheless the case that how we think about the world has practical consequences for how we relate to the things of the world. And like James Bond, one of the repeated trends throughout the history of philosophy is to treat it as if it were not enough.

This treatment of the world as not being enough can be situated in terms of Graham Harman’s concepts of undermining and overmining. As Harman writes,

1. Undermining. You can say that objects are a shallow fiction of common sense, and that the real action happens at a deeper level: whether it be…

View original post 803 more words

I Don’t Know.

I don’t know if the water knows how it will make its way to the sea.

I don’t know if the road knows that I run over it. I don’t know if the trees know that I breathe their breath.


I don’t know if the water knows how it will make its way to the sea.

Installation trial, 16 August 2018


I don’t know how to access the access modes of other entities.  Thinking with Timothy Morton I am attempting to adopt a position outside of anthropocentric humanism, I consider the possibility that thought, while currently the primary mode through which humans access their surroundings, is not innately the highest or most valid access mode in existence. We have many other access modes, such as imagining, dreaming, tasting, feeling, though we consider these less valid. Similarly, nonhuman entities have access modes that may be inaccessible and foreign-seeming to us and consequently deemed invalid. The possibility that nonhumans might have access modes that we had failed to notice was, for the longest time, invisible beneath the mantle of our own thought-dominant world.

The advent of the geological era of the Anthropocene, with its grudging acknowledgement that human activity has been the driver of geological epoch change, leads humans into an imaginative crisis of world. It is the end of the Human World, the end of the world effect within which we have been living for the past 10,000 years, in which humans are separate from, and autonomously act upon, the Natural world. The Anthropocene empties out this singular world effect. Now we have to acknowledge that everyone has a world, water, running down the gutter or into my bath has a world. Rocks have a world, albeit a world in which timescales are vastly more massive than our own, so vast that we have perceived them as static. The Anthropocene makes us realise that when we look at a rock, we are a human looking at a rock; the shape of us in there in our looking.

Interestingly we are comfortable to scientifically imagine rocks as moving liquid over a vast timescale, however, we are less comfortable to philosophically imagine a rock as acting within its own world and world time. We accept scientifically that we are, or tellingly, our bodies are made up of an array of received and inherited DNA, that bacteria living in our gut are essential to our ongoing life, yet we feel uncomfortable to think ‘I am a heaving pile of entities cohabiting’. To acknowledge that not only do I have a microbiome, I am a biome.


 I don’t know if the road knows that I run over it.

I don’t know if the trees know that I breathe their breath.

Installation trial at Massey University, 26 July 2018


Experimentaion at pearce Gallery June 2018

Conversation pit #4: Blanket Hut: sharing in an intimate world

blanket pile

Blanket Hut: sharing in an intimate world acknowledges the impossibility of maintaining an anthropocentric worldview[1] in an era of eco-crisis and invites us to tease out ways to orient ourselves within a biosphere in which we are continuous with the network of entities we previously called nature. If you are interested in joining this conversation please message me or leave a comment here and I will get back to you. full details for this Conversation here.

[1] In which Humans are separate from the Nature, a construction in which the natural world exists over yonder, providing both resource and backdrop for human activities.


Conversation Pit #1

Thanks to Yasmina Giles, Hannah Potbury and Mark van Wetering for test-driving Conversaton Pit with me.

Renovation-Room Conversation Pit

The provocation for the first Conversation Pit was from Timothy Morton in Conversation with Verso Books focusing on the sections in which Morton introduces his term Subscendence and the possibility that ‘the whole is less than the sum of its parts’ and how this might impact on community and collective(1:31 – 12:15)

Supported by the (semi)practical provocation; if we were to accept this thinking into life, how might it lead us to re-imagine cohabitation in day to day living?

 The ‘pit’ for this conversation was the Renovation-Room Conversation Pit a retro styled space in our mid-renovation study, at my home in Mt Albert.



Curated by Linda Cook, Water invites thirteen artists to respond to this fundamental liquid. The result is an eclectic mix of media and visual languages which trace our complex relationship with this essential liquid. details of the work and the contributing artists can be viewed via the e-catalogue

Thanks Linda, it is a great show. interesting and diverse.

my work for this show is titled Urban Waterfall #1 and is part of an ongoing project Urban Water in which I am observing impromptu water-ways that spring up in the city as rain seeks sea.

Urban Water installation view




Red Orange Conversation Pit

Screen Shot 2018-04-28 at 1.32.09 PM
Red Orange Conversation Pit Lounge (DOBKANIZE.COM)

I have titled my new art project Conversation Pit in romantic retro–speculation for the 1960s and 70s architectural phenomena of the conversation pit. Romantic because my knowledge of it is predominantly formed through Hollywood-mediated fiction; there was not a whiff of the conversation pit in my own rural New Zealand 70s era childhood. Retro – Speculation because I speculate lines of causality and influence in my retrospective view from the 21st century.

my retro speculation:

Occupying the small durational and psychological hiatus between the radical thinking of the 60s and the TV years of the 80s the conversation pit was a physiological and psychological acknowledgement of the intrigue, intimacy and downright sexiness of the shared activity of thinking and talking together. It was a particularly 60s/70s notion to embed such a space in the home and the fabric of living. The predictably sanitising 80’s response was to take them out again. I question, was such a reversal purely architectural or was it ideological as well; to restore clear demarcation between the realms of the sensual, the sexual and the intellectual?

How to Convert a Mountain Bike into a Go-Pro Rig for Filming the Earth You Ride over.

finished set upYou will need: a mountain bike, a go-pro, a pair of crutches, a box of assorted bike accessory parts, a few long bolts and a roll of gaffer tape for on-trail repairs.

Remove the arm brace from the crutch and put them aside, you will be using the main crutch pole for this project.

Select handlebar mounts to fit the crutch and your seat pole, joining the two together. Find a bold long enough to go through the frame of your bike and the crutch, and to go between two crutches. You can now bolt the crutch to the frame utilising existing holes in both. Now just bolt the two crutch poles together matching holes on each of the poles to set up your rink at the desired height. Attach your go-pro at the end of the top crutch, it may now be adjusted to record the ground directly behind your rear wheel.

pre ride

Operating your rig

Set your go pro up; you may choose to record the rear wheel as it moves across the earth or you may choose to just record the earth itself. Should you wish to record your own breath as you pedal across the earth you will need to attach an auxiliary microphone, bear in mind that this will require a cable and an adapter. you will get tangled in the cable when you dismount and that the auxiliary microphone will compromise the water resistance of your camera. While recording you will have to ride very, very slowly if you hope to get clear footage. Because the camera is so close to the ground you will tend to get blurred footage even at 80 FPS. Stop and repair your rig with gaffer tape as required. For variation in footage, rather than repairing the rig allow it to drag behind you as you ride across the earth.


Later you can clean your bike, remove the rig and reassembled the crutches


The results:

As mentioned above, you have to go very slowly…. mostly I did not go slowly enough.

Screen Shot 2018-04-10 at 8.47.37 PM

Screen Shot 2018-04-10 at 8.23.43 PM

I also mentioned variation in footage due to system failure: in this of footage my seat-pole attachment failed causing the rig to drag behind me like a sled. it is the one section that does exactly what I was looking for, it traces a line through the skin of the soil.

Screen Shot 2018-04-10 at 8.20.52 PMScreen Shot 2018-04-10 at 8.20.21 PM