Skip to main content
Menu Close
A
platform
for
contemporary
art
↓ English

04 June 2023 —
30 July 2023

Huarere:
Weather Eye, Weather Ear

Huarere: Weather Eye, Weather Ear, 2023 (installation view). Curated by Janine Randerson. Works by James McCarthy (right) and Phil Dadson (left). Commissioned by Te Tuhi, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland. Photo by Sam Hartnett
Huarere: Weather Eye, Weather Ear, 2023 (installation view). Curated by Janine Randerson. Photo by Sam Hartnett.
Maureen Lander, Wave Skirt, 2023. Harakeke tags, muka and laser-cut acrylic. Commissioned by Te Tuhi, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland. Photo by Sam Hartnett.
Maureen Lander, Wave Skirt, 2023 (detail). Harakeke tags, muka and laser-cut acrylic. Commissioned by Te Tuhi, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland. Photo by Sam Hartnett.
Phil Dadson, Kōea O Tāwhirimātea – Weather Choir: Voicing the Wind, 2023. Single-channel video. 17 mins. Video and audio content by Breath of Weather Collective. Digital map by Area Design. Photo by Sam Hartnett.
Phil Dadson, Kōea O Tāwhirimātea – Weather Choir: Voicing the Wind, 2023. Single-channel video. 17 mins. Video and audio content by Breath of Weather Collective. Digital map by Area Design. Photo by Sam Hartnett.
Denise Batchelor, Maureen Lander & Stìobhan Lothian, Ngaru Paewhenua, 2023. Dried harakeke strips, single-channel video and sound. Commissioned by Te Tuhi, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland. Photo by Sam Hartnett.
Denise Batchelor, Maureen Lander & Stìobhan Lothian, Ngaru Paewhenua, 2023 (detail). Dried harakeke strips, single-channel video and sound. Commissioned by Te Tuhi, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland. Photo by Sam Hartnett.
Denise Batchelor, Maureen Lander & Stìobhan Lothian, Ngaru Paewhenua, 2023 (detail). Dried harakeke strips, single-channel video and sound. Commissioned by Te Tuhi, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland. Photo by Sam Hartnett.
Paul Cullen, Untitled, part of a series of drawings towards Weather Stations, 2009-09. Watercolour. 210 x 297 mm. Courtesy of Paul Cullen Archive. Photo by Sam Hartnett.
Paul Cullen, Untitled, 1977. Ink on paper. 330 x 447 mm. Courtesy of Paul Cullen Archive. Photo by Sam Hartnett.
Paul Cullen, Weather Stations, 2009. Galvanised steel framing and concrete, hosing, pipes and glass vitrines. Dimensions variable. Courtesy of Paul Cullen Archive. Reassembled by Ammon Ngakuru and J. A Kennedy. Photo by Sam Hartnett.
Paul Cullen, Weather Stations, 2009. Galvanised steel framing and concrete, hosing, pipes and glass vitrines. Dimensions variable. Courtesy of Paul Cullen Archive. Reassembled by Ammon Ngakuru and J. A Kennedy. Photo by Sam Hartnett.
Paul Cullen, Weather Stations, 2009 (detail). Galvanised steel framing and concrete, hosing, pipes and glass vitrines. Dimensions variable. Courtesy of Paul Cullen Archive. Reassembled by Ammon Ngakuru and J. A Kennedy. Photo by Sam Hartnett.
<strong>Paul Cullen</strong> <em>Weather Stations</em>, 2009 (detail) galvanised steel framing and concrete, hosing, pipes and glass vitrines dimensions variable courtesy of Paul Cullen Archive reassembled by Ammon Ngakuru and J. A Kennedy photo by Sam Hartnett
Paul Cullen, Weather Stations, 2009 (detail). Galvanised steel framing and concrete, hosing, pipes and glass vitrines. Dimensions variable. Courtesy of Paul Cullen Archive. Reassembled by Ammon Ngakuru and J. A Kennedy. Photo by Sam Hartnett.
Phil Dadson, Ngā-hau-e-whā, 2022. Mast-style aeolian harp. Pinus radiata, two polystyrene box resonators, nylon wires, screws, stainless steel bolts, rimu bridges, epoxy resin, acrylic paint, contact microphones and cables. Commissioned by Te Tuhi, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland. Photo by Sam Hartnett.
Huarere: Weather Eye, Weather Ear, 2023 (installation view). Curated by Janine Randerson. Photo by Sam Hartnett.

/

Over a year of too much weather, artworks radiate outward weather signals and inward presentiments, heat, wind, grief and salt rain. Huarere, the weather, conjures rere, flying, and immersion in the fullness, hua, our saturated atmosphere. Artists give us means to radically imagine meteorological non-beings and other species, while in the midst of human struggles with the ‘one-in-one-hundred-year’ weather events that happen, paradoxically, every few months.

Huarere: Weather Eye, Weather Ear at Te Tuhi is a ‘weather station’, a physical enclosure for six online ‘weather reports’ that took place from Matariki 2022 through Koanga, spring, and Ngahuru, autumn, equinoxes and return us now to Ihu o Hinetakurua, the winter solstice, 2023. The oceanic forces of Te Moana Nui A Kiwa drive our rapid weather and animate the artworks across shorelines from Aotearoa to Tonga, Rarotonga, Samoa and Niue. Winds whisper and scream: kupu, words, tohu, signs, rise and fade within the heated, damp atmospheres of our inundating isles.

Our ‘weather ear’ attunes to sounds of birds and thunder – agitated, flying away – while our ‘weather eye’ alerts our senses, along with scientific instruments of weather observation. When the ‘atmospheric river’ entered our common lexicon, with each successive cyclone or deluge our bodies hooked into aches and scents of rain on the one hand, and the pulsing electronic blobs that creep across rain radars on screens on the other. In this exhibition, hydrophones or cameras reveal the spirits in glacial lakes and sea foams, while diurnal weathers spur the wind-cry of aeolian choirs and the aleatory electronic scores of remote sensors. Many of the artworks are less contained, expository events than un-presentational, ceaselessly rolling onward, rendering us sometimes helpless and sometimes hope-full.

Weather is not just happening to us, we, humans, are happening to the weather. While the rising debt of the climate crisis is not evenly spread amongst all humanity, across the planet we share in innumerable losses: whenua, biome, creatures, people. Huarere: Weather Eye, Weather Ear is Te Tuhi’s contribution to the World Weather Network, a platform connecting 28 arts organisations across the earth to document their collective experience of the new weathers. To signal the presence of this network, we have invited Emirati artist Nujoom Alghanem to present an image and sound work from her documentary film Honey, Rain and Dust (2016). Her work, like a postcard from a different clime, is inscribed with the Emirati experience of endless blazing Summer, full of sounds of a desert landscape, and the agitated bees that maintain life.

Links

→ Essay by Janine Randerson
→ List of works
→ About the artists 
Huarere: Weather Eye, Weather Ear digital programme
→ Huarere: Weather Eye, Weather Ear e-publication

All exhibitions are currently offsite due to disruptions caused by the Pakuranga Eastern Busway construction. The building remains open for classes and other activities. 21 William Roberts Road, Pakuranga, is the best address to enter into navigation apps to guide you to the free parking at our door.

Close