Monday 25 August 2014

The Lab: If you were to live here...

A year ago this month the 5th Auckland Triennial, If you were to live here… closed after receiving the highest Triennial attendance to date of 90,000 visitors to its nine sites. All venues were free for the first time, which had a significant impact on attendance.

An electrifying component of the Triennial was The Lab, located in the Chartwell Gallery on the top floor of Auckland Art Gallery. An initiative of curator, Hou Hanru, who described it as ‘the brain’ of the Triennial, The Lab included an open laboratory space for interactions and dialogue between local and international communities of creators.

This month a beautiful publication, The Lab: If you were to live here… was launched at the Gallery co-published with the University of Auckland (RRP $30 available from the Gallery shop).

The Lab was a design-based trans-disciplinary laboratory offering a unique opportunity to develop Auckland’s architectural culture. A joint project between the architecture and spatial design/visual arts faculties of AUT, The University of Auckland and UNITEC, this laboratory unfolded throughout the Triennial as a series of rolling workshops, lectures, exhibitions and a roster of related events – including lectures by international guests Teddy Cruz (Estudio Cruz) and Bijoy Jain (Studio Mumbai).

The Lab’s role was to act as an intellectual catalyst considering the questions: What role do the creative disciplines play in developing the urban realm? How might they bring about a different quality of life? How might we live here, ‘better’?

Placing these speculations within our broader urban culture, The Lab sought to ignite ongoing thinking, discussion and action within our cities.

The Lab space was designed by Mike Davis, as part of his PhD research, with Sara Lee and Sasha Milojevic of the School of Architecture and Planning, University of Auckland, creating a flexible framework to purposefully, and economically, enable the exhibition of 5 distinct projects, yet giving a coherent memory and relationship between the projects; and relating two sites - the ‘operations’ or exhibition space and reference library. The exhibition design is a finalist in the 2014 Best Awards. This physical space was supported by the design team of INDEX, Jonty Valentine and Amy Yalland, and their risograph printer, who produced signage systems, event sheets on demand, produced one-off artworks and manually updated the wall panels. INDEX also designed and produced The Lab book.

Hou had expressed a desire that the work of the Triennial would leave a physical legacy or evidence of transformation in Auckland.

Kathy Waghorn, editor of The Lab publication, recalled at the book launch a number of changes and successes that had arisen out of the Lab projects:

Project 1: Muddy Urbanism, led by Kathy Waghorn and Teddy Cruz, culminated in a publication and two subsequent exhibitions – one in West Auckland, the other at Woodbury University Gallery in Los Angeles – and discussions held in The Lab with city councillors and local board representative has led to the establishment of a new trust to take on the task of developing the ‘muddy’ environment of the Whau River.

Project 2: led by emerging architect Sarosh Mulla. During the project he gave a lecture on a speculative idea for a ‘Welcome Shelter’ at the Longbush Ecosanctuary in Gisborne. The Welcome Shelter will be built before the end of the year – through the commitment of Triennial patron, Chartwell Trust, alongside 5 other financial partners and many volunteers.

Project 3: led by Carin Wilson and Rau Hoskins of UNITEC’s Te Hononga Centre for Māori Architecture and Appropriate Technologies built a Paparewa on the Auckland waterfront during 2013’s Matariki, providing a ‘real-world’ encounter and dialogue between the city, the people, and the 19 Tāmaki iwi as to the ways the tribes will reposition themselves in term of their kaitiaki roles and begin to assert their identity in the physical environment. This giant structure gained the attention of the city and has assisted much needed korero around the representation and visibility (or lack of) mana whenua in our city, and confidence that future projects will build on this kaupapa (agenda).

Project 4: AUT brought together 80 thinkers, collaborators, makers and designers to re-think the role of ‘the social’ and the ‘public’ as real spaces of conscious exchange and encounter to engender imagination and community values, through 34 projects staged over 21 days. This event has led to further projects of event based and social participatory practices including a symposium Engaging Publics/Public Engagement, 13 September, co-hosted with the Gallery.

Project 5: led by Andrew Barrie, with exhibition design by Melanie Pau, sought to address the impact of the Christchurch earthquake – using church facilities as a case study to reconsider how their land and facilities might better serve contemporary needs. During the exhibition, students presented their ideas to various Bishops, priests, representatives of parish councils, and congregation members. Following the Triennial, they continued to work with several parishes moving through the rebuilding process, eventually leading to Andrew being commissioned to design a multi-million dollar complex to replace the quake destroyed facilities of the Oxford Street Baptist Church in Christchurch.

– Louise Pether, Manager Special Exhibitions

Thursday 21 August 2014

Curator’s response: Kalisolaite ’Uhila’s Mo’ui Tukuhausia

Presented Bruce E. Phillips, Senior Curator, Te Tuhi, on 10 August 2014 at Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki, as part of a series of public talks in relation to the Walters Prize 2014.

This is the story of Kalisolaite ’Uhila’s project Mo‘ui Tukuhausia as it originally occurred at Te Tuhi in 2012.

I was first introduced to Kalisolaite through my friend and colleague James Pinker who had worked with him to realize Pigs in the Yard at the Mangere Arts Centre in 2011, which was his first performance in a public art gallery. Later that year I began researching for an exhibition called What do you mean, we? to be held at Te Tuhi. This exhibition aimed to explore the psychology of prejudice through the practice of artists who take on strategies to draw out suppressed bias. Artists included in the exhibition did so through social intervention, linguistic deconstruction, psychoanalysis or by working through the spectres of past trauma. Kalisolaite’s emerging practice at the time fitted well into this context and so I arranged to meet with him to explore the possibility of his inclusion.

During this meeting I learnt that he employed an experiential approach in his practice rather than the head-in-book style of research that is so much more common these days with Fine Arts graduates – ‘my library is my heart and my mind’ he would later share with me1. At this time he was engaging in opposing aspects of participatory research into homelessness by spending the odd day or night living on the street while conversely working as an inner city security guard often required to move homeless people off private property. These experiential tests would build upon his knowledge of urban survival but also of how public space is implicitly controlled via social conditioning and more overtly through forms of legal and political enforcement.

This fact was reinforced to me when he mentioned that on one such occasion of research he was ushered out of the Auckland Art Gallery due to his appearance. This story fundamentally challenged me because it revealed that those of us who are in charge of what should be thee most tolerant public institutions are also complicit in maintaining the veneer of social acceptance. Despite this, my colleagues and I took on Kalisolaite’s challenge of allowing him to live ‘homeless’ around the grounds of Te Tuhi – an action that could render Te Tuhi politically vulnerable and liable for his safety.

Kalisolaite’s inclusion in the show What do you mean, we? was important as it was the only live performative work that would engage with the public and place of Pakuranga where Te Tuhi is situated. Real time engagement with Pakuranga was integral, for it was one of the driving motivations of the exhibition.

Originally a burgeoning suburb for the white middle class of the 1970s, Pakuranga along with neighbouring areas in the precinct have since diversified demographically. Due to this tensions had been stirred up by conservative white factions of the area in opposition to Māori and also the growing Asian community. Notable moments indicative of these tensions included Pakuranga being one of three areas in New Zealand chosen by the Right Wing Resistance to distribute their ‘Asian Invasion’ pamphlets2. Other moments of controversy at the time included the resistance to a whare to be rebuilt in Howick3 and also the formation of the area’s new Super City political ward to be named after the prominent Māori Chief Te Irirangi4. Kalisolaite was aware that he was walking into a situation charged with various social and racial tensions. However, the reality of bearing witness to these tensions was something else entirely.

The duration of the piece also proved to be an integral development that was finalised only a month prior to the show opening. In a meeting, I remember trying to float the idea with Kalisolaite of periodically coming and going from Te Tuhi over the period of the exhibition. In retrospect I realise now that I was trying to tiptoe around the very real implications that actual living onsite might cause. It was Te Tuhi’s assistant curator at the time, Shannon Te Ao who argued the importance of Kalisolaite dedicating to a solid period of full time occupation: “if you are going to do this you do it full time or not at all” he said – or something to that effect. Kalisolaite agreed to this and we bit the bullet.

For Kalisolaite the action began at 6am on the 19th March, the moment when he closed the door of his house leaving his wife and daughter behind. He had only what he needed – a small bundle of belongings and just enough spare change to catch the bus to Pakuranga.

Kalisolaite told me that time stopped the moment that he walked out that door5. For Te Tuhi staff the passing of time was also altered, as we were kept busy facilitating a food bank, answering a barrage of questions, deflecting abusive confrontations with the public, and in my case sleeping with my cell phone close by in case of emergency.

On a daily basis Kalisolaite’s presence ignited responses that could have been produced by a 1950s social science experiment where the very best and worst of our local constituents were eked out. Public responses varied greatly and within a day had become instantly polarised. He was referred to as ‘that Thing!’ by one visitor, was spat on by another, and even accused of not smelling enough of ‘urine and faeces’.

Kalisolaite was periodically visited by friends, family and supporters but was on the most part left alone to exist day and night in the open like many other people do in urban centres around the globe. The necessity of learning urban survival is amongst the most insightful of his accounts to me. He told me:

A key aspect to survival is to be aware of your surroundings … I was doing a lot of sitting, a lot of observing, just listening and being aware of what was happening around the area. That was when I realised that I didn’t really need to know the time, because this was my time. By paying attention to what was going on around the area I would notice life happening like clockwork … but it is more like a shadow of time. People had the time but I was moving in their shadow. They would be moving but I was moving at my own different pace.6

This required him to develop an intimate knowledge of the area. He sought shelter from the wind and rain, located safe nooks in which to hide, and found warmth in patches of sunlight between buildings to air out his clothes. On his first day it happened to be raining and Kalisolaite told me that he saw the rain as a blessing as it forced him to think about finding shelter. He found part of an old broken tent, that we had for some reason kicking around the office, and by accumulating cardboard he established himself a sheltered spot beside the building in which to sleep.

Through this deeply attuned observation he gained a perspective on the workings of society passing around him. So well was his knowledge of the area that I found it hard to keep track of his movements.

As you can see in some of these photos he did well to linger out in the open but camouflaged in the shadows. This survival strategy was intended to protect himself against adverse attention from other people – which I find a revealing of how vulnerable the human body is to the potential physical and physiological abuse of other humans. I think about this and consider how poignant the title for the work is – Mo’ui Tukuhausia – a Tongan phrase which means life set aside.

While Kalisolaite’s survival was dependent upon his own deeply attuned knowledge of the area, he was in fact also dependent upon the local community for one crucial thing – to support his existence through a food bank located at Te Tuhi’s reception. This food bank was his primary food source and a very smart strategy to give the community the responsibility to keep him alive.

Te Tuhi advertised Kalisolaite’s work and the need for donated food but it took a couple of days for the idea of giving to take effect. Ultimately, it was Kalisolaite’s presence that was a trigger for people to give. Often people would strike up conversation with staff and would learn about the project and would then be compelled to give. By the start of the second week Te Tuhi received more food than Kalisolaite could eat so our Director James McCarthy started making daily donation trips to the Auckland City Mission down town.

So while Kalisolaite received heated opposition to his presence he also received overwhelming kindness and generosity. Even weeks after the performance had ended I found gifts of food left outside his tent.

It is important to note that Pakuranaga being a suburban area typically does not have many visibly homeless people. Due to this and also to recent issues of racism in the area, Kalisolaite became sensitive to the fact that people would associate his Tongan ethnicity with being poor or destitute. To avoid this racial profiling, he decided to cover his face hands and all exposed skin in black clothing so that he would simply be an unidentifiable figure.

From the outset Kalisolaite and I decided that the work was to be an experiment – an opportunity for him to try something radically new, to test his limits, to test Te Tuhi and to contribute a true challenge for the exhibition. As part of this experimental ethos Kalisolaite’s presence around the building changed overtime.

He decided to be mostly silent during his time at Te Tuhi but he also wanted to establish some sort of communicative engagement with the public. He started by leaving behind cardboard signs asking for spare change as he had observed others do during his research. This form of communication evolved rapidly in scale and message to the extent that Kalisolaite was beginning to take over the building with messages written in chalk and signs put up around the neighbourhood.

Kalisolaite’s signs replicated words of condemnation that had been said to him directly. Other messages were more defiant reminding people that he was indeed a human being. What was most intriguing about these signs is that they oftern were intentionally humorous and witty. "Lets do lunch u buy" said one. "Homeless attraction" and “Homeless on show $2” said others.

This sign making reached new heights when he established an impromptu homeless sign making workshop during Te Tuhi’s annual community carnival day. Kalisolaite simply sat on the ground and without saying a word children naturally gathered around him and started making signs of compassion, encouragement or statements of good will.

Kalisolaite was motivated to gain a lived understanding of homelessness. However, it was the provocation of his performance that triggered the enforcement of social order. As the title of the work implies, the action placed him outside of what is socially acceptable and due to this he was deemed someone to be corrected or deterred from being as he was. This reality was evident through the many police visits he received, which were the reason his performance ended a day earlier than its planned conclusion. Kalisolaite told me:

I was stopped three times by the police. They called me an ‘unusual suspect’. Each time they stopped to question me I would challenge them in very simple ways. I wasn’t intending to be smart, I just wanted to make the point that I am human and to ask the police ‘Are you human?’ – and if we are both humans, then we can talk together on equal grounds. The experience on the last day of my two weeks was the best ending to the project. I was out in the middle of the night about to write on the pavement, a statement in chalk to conclude my time. But before I wrote anything the cops turned up and I knew that this would be the end of it. The cop came up to me and I gave him my letter from Te Tuhi that explained what I was about, it was like my passport, and the cop just ripped it up and told me to move on. I realised then that they had their eye on me from the beginning, even though they were not harassing me all the time. They had their killer eyes on me from afar. So I just thought, This is it the end, I have done what I came to do. I just rang my wife to pick me up and it was over.7

Two years on and Kalisolaite’s original iteration of the work still strikes me as being profound for its ability to fracture the veneer of social niceties through such a passive action. In New Zealand there are some who consider it unfashionable to embrace emotion or humor in contemporary art. I don’t know why this is, perhaps it is a modernist hangover or that emotion and humour is deemed not serious or academic enough. It is also considered unfashionable to earnestly stand for a cause. However, it is for all these reasons that Kalisolaite’s work has been influential to others. I also understand that it is for these reasons that this year’s selection committee nominated this work for the Walters Prize 2014.

In art, sometimes it is the simple actions that are the hardest to execute but more often than not they are the most important and powerful. Through simplicity and humility, Kalisolaite puts his body and mind towards an artwork that has a single strong message that cuts to the heart of a complex issue that we are all responsible for and complicit in creating.

– Bruce E. Phillips, Senior Curator, Te Tuhi

Bruce E Phillips, ‘Discussing Mo’ui Tukuhausia’ in What do you mean, we?, Bruce E Phillips and Rebecca Lal (eds), Te Tuhi Centre, Auckland, 2012, p47,, accessed 21 May 2014
TVNZ One News, ‘Anti-Asian Leaflets Leave Community “Very Alarmed”’, 11 May 2011, community-very-alarmed-4166648, accessed 20 May 2014
TVNZ Te Karere, ‘Ngai Tai in Howick Demolish Te Umupuia Meeting House’, uploaded 18 October 2010,, accessed 21 May 2014
TVNZ Te Karere, ‘Ngai Tai Iwi Are Happy a Ward in Auckland Will Be Called Te Irirangi’, uploaded 22 March 2010, watch?v=tpnTUgBYtU8, accessed 21 May 2014; Lincon Tan, Howick: Name Game Over – Now Who Will Lead’, New Zealand Herald, 25 August 2010,, accessed 21 May 2014
Phillips. p52
ibid. p 47-8
ibid. p50

Image credits:
Kalisolaite ’Uhila
Mo’ui Tukuhausia 2012 (documentation of a two-week performance at Te Tuhi, 19 March – 1 April 2012)
Commissioned by Te Tuhi, Auckland
Photos: Bruce E. Phillips

Tuesday 12 August 2014

Community Values: The Walters Prize 2014

This Walters Prize engages with the public in notable ways. A number of the artists’ projects originally took place in public, outdoors and beyond gallery walls. Additionally, some involved members of the public and were not created for gallery audiences to view in the conventional sense.

In what ways might we consider that these projects engaged with communities or with ideas of community?

Simon Denny, All You Need is Data: The DLD 2012 Conference REDUX (installation view), 2014
Simon Denny’s exhibition All You Need Is Data – The DLD 2012 Conference REDUX literally represents the ideas and aesthetics of a talkfest undertaken by international leading-edge technology thinkers. Denny quotes from the presentations of each of the conference’s participants – politicians, corporate luminaries, scientists and leaders from varied professions, including curator Hans Ulrich Obrist. Set out as a labyrinth of signage in the gallery space, All You Need Is Data re-presents 89 talks from the three-day synthesis of thinking. Denny’s work suggests that the idea of a ‘public sphere’ has been overtaken by dialogue between a select group of society. Nevertheless, evidence of this high-level platform for discussion suggests the possibility for a public or community based around ongoing and unresolved dialogue and debate, as upheld by philosophers Chantal Mouffe and Jean Luc-Nancy. In this way, Denny’s project speaks to such intellectual understandings of our social existence. 

Luke Willis Thompson, inthisholeonthisislandwhereiam (installation view), 2014
In contrast, by inviting audiences of the 2014 Walters Prize to take a taxi ride Luke Willis Thompson’s inthisholeonthisislandwhereiam confronts the viewer with the question ‘Who is your community?’ The nexus of suburban location and house with its evidence of lived experience stands in stark contrast to the Auckland Art Gallery where the viewer begins and ends their journey. Departing from the architecturally award-winning Auckland Art Gallery, Thompson’s restaged inthisholeonthisislandwhereiam plays out across a set of conflicting social values and cultural existences related to public and private spaces. If community is an interrelation of commonalities – family ties, friendships, shared interests, cultural background, histories etc – inthisholeonthisislandwhereiam reminds the viewer of the exclusive boundaries of community membership.

Maddie Leach, If you find the good oil let us know (installation view), 2012–2014
The individuals who were part of Maddie Leach’s If you find the good oil let us know could be understood to form a temporary community existing for the duration of the project. Leach’s artist’s book and website of the same name reveal traces of individuals who took part in her original art project beginning in 2012. Scientists, technicians, sign writers, photographers, newspaper editors, and letter writers to the local Taranaki newspaper, amongst others, played a part in Leach’s investigation of the composition of a barrel of ‘whale oil’. These diverse individuals were connected via the persuasive skills of the artist and the poetic spirit of her project. This commonality, amongst other communities that pre-exist for these individuals, lives on in the extension of Leach’s project for Auckland Art Gallery’s Walters Prize exhibition.

Kalisolaite ’Uhila, Mo’ui tukuhausia (installation view), 2014
 Finally, Kalisolaite ’Uhila’s Mo’ui tukuhausia, an action of living in and around the Gallery 24 hours a day, potentially engages with as well as represents local identities. ’Uhila’s project, as I understand it, questions the very nature of community. Living in and outside the Gallery for the three months of the Walters Prize exhibition, ’Uhila is a being-in-common with the group of local rough sleepers. While raising awareness of homelessness by its enactment, there is more going on in this project than an identification between ’Uhila and his co-inhabitants.

’Uhila’s project troubles stereotypes of community and belonging. On one hand, ’Uhila is an aberrant figure amongst the typical gallery demographic, a Tongan man and a potential breadwinner who is not living the urban dream. For this reason, his presence raises the question for each of us, not least myself and other Gallery staff, as to how we offer him the hospitality that means we share something in common?

These artworks ask audiences to engage with the question of how we generate our individual and formal communities, and how a public is formed at a personal and local level. Dynamic, open-ended and generative of debate, the projects in the 2014 Walters Prize open conversations about ways we live, and could live, together.

– Zara Stanhope, Principal Curator

Image credits: 

Simon Denny
All You Need is Data – The DLD 2012 Conference REDUX (installation view), 2014, from the Walters Prize 2014 exhibition at Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki, Photo: Jennifer French 

Luke Willis Thompson 
inthisholeonthisislandwhereiam (installation view), 2014, from the Walters Prize 2014 exhibition at Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki, 12 July – 12 October 2014. Photo: Jennifer French

Maddie Leach
If you find the good oil let us know (installation view), 2012–14, from the Walters Prize 2014 exhibition at Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki. Photo: Jennifer French 

Kalisolaite ’Uhila
Mo'ui tukuhausia (installation view), 2014, from the Walters Prize 2014 exhibition at Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki, 12 July – 12 October 2014. Photo: John McIver

Tuesday 5 August 2014

Kupu T-shirt project

Gallery Assistant Nicola demonstrating Wednesday's kupu, nau mai 
If you are connected to the Gallery online or have been in the Gallery recently you may have seen staff members wearing T-shirts with one of these seven Māori kupu (words) printed on them. 

kōrero, inu, nau mai, āe, whetū, manuhiri, ngutu 

As part of the Gallery’s Matariki celebrations we assigned each of these seven words to a day of the week, and people wore their T-shirt with that day’s word. This was a chance for us to learn te reo Māori collectively, practise vocalising and talking about meanings and potential uses of our chosen kupu. If you’ve seen the online images you will know people were asked to demonstrate the meaning of their kupu by taking a photograph of themselves wearing the T-shirt.

So how did this come about?

I decided while creating Matariki programming that it would be a good initiative to have the Gallery’s staff actively engage with the Māori language and generate a broader awareness of Matariki and te wiki o te reo Māori (Māori language week). Kōrero (talk, speak) was one of the five principles of my kaupapa when putting together the Matariki public programme.

I started by looking at what other organisers were running nationally for te wiki o te reo and got in touch with Te Taura Whiri i te Reo Māori (the Māori Language Commission). The organisation provided me with some great free resources to distribute and utilise as well as letting me know their plans to have kupu of te wiki (word of the week) for 52 weeks starting from Māori language week, Monday 21 July 2014.

Visitor Experience Team Leader Fan showing off a nice pair of ngutu
Our seven kupu were selected from their list of 52, so we could have kupu o te ra or word of the day for the four weeks of Matariki. Seven kupu appearing four times during the month would help to reinforce the usage and learning. The front of house management team were really supportive of the idea and we screen-printed 30 staff T-shirts for the project. I would like to thank Popo hardware for their quick turnaround and help with achieving this project.

The uptake by staff was overwhelmingly positive and it was really inspiring to see that people here were keen to invest and learn. We had 29 participants in the kupu T-shirt project, a mixture of gallery assistants, security, conservators, curators, educators and even café staff members all willing to don a t-shirt with their assigned kupu on their word’s allotted day.

This was not just about wearing a T-shirt as each participant understood they would have to know their kupu and be ready to answer and discuss what it meant with other staff members and the public. As mentioned, they were also tasked with capturing the meaning of their kupu in an image that would go online to reach to our online visitors.

Team kōrero having a tea party
Other extensions to the project came via staff-led initiatives as we progressed through the weeks, some staff learnt new phrases and kupu and actively sought to put them into use. One staff member asked that the Gallery’s closing announcement be translated into te reo to be read out along with the usually English announcement. I have also heard discussions from the front of house managers that the future staff uniforms could look to incorporate more te reo Māori into the design to foster more engagement from the public but also more learning opportunities for staff.

I feel the Gallery has really demonstrated an awareness of and commitment to te reo Māori, and that this project has been rewarding not only for staff members participating in Matariki, but also to the public who have shown awareness and engagement. I look forward to seeing this grow at Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki.

Definition and day of our kupu:

Monday’s kupu – kōrero 
1. (verb) (-hia,-ngia,-tia) to tell, say, speak, read, talk, address
2. (noun) speech, narrative, story, news, account, discussion, conversation, discourse

Tuesday’s kupu – inu
1. (verb) (-mia) to drink
2. (noun) drink

Wednesday’s kupu – nau mai
1. welcome

Thursday’s kupu – āe
1. (verb) to agree, give assent

Friday’s kupu – whetū
1. (noun) star, asterisk – sometimes used for other celestial bodies, eg comets

Saturday’s kupu – manuhiri
1. (noun) visitor, guest.

Sunday’s kupu – ngutu
1. (noun) lip, beak, bill, rim
2. (noun) entrance (of a cave, river, etc.), river mouth

– Martin Langdon, Toi Māori Intern

Monday 4 August 2014

Youth Media Internship 2014: A Mentor's Perspective

Programme Mentor Jacques and AUT Media Mentor Sarah
Reflecting on the past two weeks I realise I am in awe of what we have accomplished: For a team who came together as relative strangers a mere eight days ago we have achieved one helluva lot!

From icebreakers to editing I have been impressed by the overwhelming enthusiasm invested by everyone involved. This faith in and commitment to what can, at times, be a rather chaotic process inspires me hugely and I am honoured to have been involved in such an exciting initiative.

Highlights for me would have to include watching the antics that ensued as as the interns negotiated day two's brainstorming activities, having the opportunity to share my personal journaling process with a group of fellow young creatives and of course the final day's rough cut screening.

I also thoroughly enjoyed leading the storyboarding session on day three and deeply appreciated the opportunity to further my skills as a facilitator. I am rather fanatical about storytelling and relished the chance to share my passion and experience/skills in design thinking with a group of impressionable young creatives. Interns; your creativity and confidence astounds me. Keep doing what you're doing.

The chance to work alongside the gallery's education team and wider staff was equally exciting. The experience of collaborating with such a dynamic and gifted team was certainly a privilege and I really value the insights into Gallery operations, processes, careers and philosophies I gained. The world of Art can often be somewhat secular, so to have the curtain peeled back is an incredible experience from a student perspective. A massive thanks to Selina Anderson and Mindy Catt, your energy, leadership, sheer determination and never-ending supply of hilarious bunny videos were very much appreciated.

If I were to summarise the internship experience in a single word I would have to go with: empowering. The relationships, empathy, skills, insights and confidence I have built through my involvement with this programme over the past two years are truly invaluable.

Thanks Auckland Art Gallery – you're awesome!

– Sarah Loggie, AUT Media Mentor