National Gallery of Australia, August 2014
The National Gallery of Australia has collected three complete series.
Late August 2014, the National Gallery of Australia collected three complete series: ‘Kanaky’, ‘Censored’ and ‘Stopover’.
‘Kanaky’ toured New Zealand universities, through 1986, with the New Zealand Students’ Arts Council.
The National Gallery of Australia has collected the complete 29-image vintage exhibition series, #1 of an open edition, printed at the time of the first exhibition. 155 x 230 mm, image size.
‘I Must Behave’ was published by Vapour Momenta Books, the pocket-sized publishing arm of Catherine Griffiths and Bruce Connew. It is the second volume in a social and political trilogy of artist books: ‘I Saw You’, 2007; ‘I Must Behave’, 2009; ‘I Drive You Crazy, to the Moon’, which is soon to be published.
“This is an unsettling observation of the experience of globalisation: where we are, who we are and what we are, we can’t quite say. Perhaps the sense of anxiety and disconnection apparent in these images is also a manifestation of the personal and social controls and restrictions we submit ourselves to.” Deidra Sullivan
While sorting out personal papers recently, I came across this note of support from an impeccable sub-editor and loyal friend during my April 1982–July 1985 stint at the New Zealand Listener magazine.
I humbly confess to Jacquie’s charges. I can’t recall now just which project we were working on 30 years ago that encouraged this note, it could have been any of a number. I had made a decision, from day one at the magazine (April Fool’s Day, 1982), to stand my ground as a photographer, to signal an entitlement to my own voice, to establish that voice within the magazine by meaningful sway over the edit and selection of my images, and the manner in which they would be used.
The trouble was, confrontation was my method of choice, and while that worked for a stretch, the dragooned and coerced in time found a way around me.
Jacquie, however, despite proof of the note otherwise, was a comrade-in-arms, a loyal friend, and when the moment was important, we worked carefully together to advance particular social and political agendas.
For twelve months, from the top floor of home, veiled behind an apron of black velvet, through double-glazing and a long lens, I photographed the comings and goings of a car park, an ample piece of reclaimed Wellington land that juts out into a bay, a family beach to one side. Surveillance is routine nowadays. It’s everywhere.