burgseye & I

Randomly Auckland

2012-02-06T09:18:00.001+13:00

©burgseye 2011

One church, three views.

2012-02-04T16:03:00.001+13:00

A church, three views.

©burgseye2011

Whanga' Roadie

2012-02-03T15:26:00.002+13:00

It is summer in Aotearoa, apparently. Today's grey skies and drizzle makes everything feel a bit wintery, despite the humidity.

Fitting then that I should stumble onto these images while trying to organise my files in Lightroom. All the shots here are from a winter roadie I made last year to see my good friend and art collaborator Neil Buddle AKA 'the Reverend' in his adopted town of Whanganui.

I love Whanga' it feels like a North Island version of Dunedin, only smaller. A true frontier in many respects and during this particular week the temperatures were positively Antarctic.

Jingle all the Way.

2011-12-23T18:58:00.000+13:00

Titirangi to Rangi Point

2011-12-22T18:16:00.000+13:00

©burgseye 2011

Kai Time in Nepal

2011-12-20T11:37:00.000+13:00

©burgesye 2006

Freddy's

2011-12-19T16:13:00.003+13:00

The first incarnation I ever heard of Fat Freddy's was Joe Dukie and DJ Fitchie at a Gathering Party sometime back -a decade or so ago. After a night of mostly fairly tragic techno (thanks John Digweed) it was wonderful to be greeted by the new dawn with the skeletal and dubbed up precursors to the future Freddy's sound.

Many years later as their first album Based On a True Story exploded like a scud on the Aotearoan music charts I got to watch the filming of the first day of the video for the single Wamdering Eye. Once that choon blew up you couldn't move anywhere in the country without hearing Dallas' silky vocals and those epic jazzified downbeat workouts. Here's the Freddy's between takes.

Scattered Thoughts

2011-11-23T21:17:00.002+13:00

Inside

2011-11-08T11:52:00.004+13:00

Interior

2011-11-08T09:15:00.003+13:00

The other day in Auckland

2011-09-14T12:39:00.001+12:00

A month

2011-09-02T15:23:00.004+12:00

A month without a post may be an online no-no, but sometimes one has to say yes-yes to life and other opportunities. Above are a few randoms from trips abroad and not so far afield: London, Paris, Borneo, White Island and Grey Lynn.

©burgseye 2010/11

Rainville

2011-07-28T13:58:00.008+12:00

Wet under foot. Images from past winter/s.

All images © burgseye2010

Animal House

2011-06-25T12:35:00.002+12:00

At Duncan's house all things are created equal.
©burgseye2011

Winter light a New Lynn block

2011-06-06T01:04:00.012+12:00

A New Lynn block. Sunday 05.06.11.
© burgseye 2011

Evidently Chicken Town ©John Cooper Clarke 1980

Car-nage

2011-05-23T22:19:00.009+12:00

"Smash Palace" was the junk yard centre piece in the 1981, Roger Donaldson directed, Bruno Lawrence starred film of the same name. Horopito Motors is the handle of the joint in real life.

Set on a wind swept high plain of the Central Plateau with SH4 and the main trunk line framing its entrance and the mighty Mt. Ruapehu in the near distance, the continually unfolding weather patterns always make the yard look bleak and cold to me. Yet the vast piles of ancient wrecks are somehow magnetic.
Founded in the 1940's by the late Bill Cole, Horopito sprawls with over sixty years of motoring wrecks and acres of chassis and fuselage to be picked through and wandered around. The place feels like a movie set, more Americana than Kiwi.

©burgseye 2009

Going up River

2011-05-18T14:14:00.012+12:00

Incredibly two years has passed since I spent four days on the road with Whanganui artist and partner in art crimes, Neil Buddle AKA The Reverend. Like a good wine his idea for a print series called Waterline is just now showing signs of maturity.
We started out at the 'North Mole' breakwater at the mouth of the Whanganui River. Despite clear skies the day was less than benign. A stiff southerly delivered ferocious swells straight from the Antarctic to the Mole's rocks. Neil was reduced to holding on to a signal pole to try and get the images he needed to make this print. He was looking inland up Te Awa, snaking all the way back to the Central Plateau.
The following are some of the views essentially sighted from the road as we head upstream towards Pipiriki before heading over to Ruapehu to join the Whangaehu River on its journey to the coast, that's another post.

©burgseye2009

Thoughts

2011-05-08T16:45:00.006+12:00

Red Bull Trolley Grand Prix 2011

2011-04-15T06:54:00.004+12:00

©burgseye2011

Once a Boy

2011-04-07T10:35:00.006+12:00

Idealized visions of some epic fossil fuel burners from my diminishing Matchbox collection. They are forty years old already, having miraculously survived my various crashes, bashes and races and then subsequent crunching from friends' kids. Somehow they still bring me small joys.

©burgseye2011

Tideline

2011-04-01T14:14:00.004+13:00

Tideline Whites Beach 29.03.11
©burgseye2011

Anthem Man

2011-03-30T16:54:00.014+13:00

Robert John Steed is parked up in an industrial wasteland in South Auckland. He's been here a while. Nearby the grass is ripe with stale urine and out front of his caravan is a small collection of furniture he's been fixing up. He's been on the road since 1996 with the sole purpose of rewriting New Zealand's national anthem with a couple of verse changes, an added chorus and a marching beat. Here's what he had to say in less than 15 minutes.

"At the age of 17 I was shot through the brain in a shooting accident at Albany when we were clearing a farm of rabbits. I have many disciples. I can put my finger into the large hole at the back of my head to prove that I was shot dead. I was dead for 32 seconds. I know a lot about death, a huge amount. I know life eternal goes on for a great deal of time .And your brain goes on a long time after your body is finished. You start dreaming all the good parts of your life and you relive all those parts of your life and that is heaven. That is all the good parts of your life you remember and don’t get you body burnt because that is hell."

"I went into Kingseat Hospital because my mother wanted  me treated to make sure that after being shot at 17 that I was perfectly  sane. They gave me some treatment. They gave me medications to try and  calm me down. I was at times irritated and I’d branch out and trying to  handle matters myself and try and put right what I know is wrong and  without getting deep into politics."

"A guy on Waiheke in a rubbish truck attacked me, he backed into me five times trying to kill me because he said I was a peadophile. He is mentally sick but then again there are a lot of mentally sick people on Wiaheke.. I suppose that s where they all hibernate to get out the way of Auckland. I have a certificate of sanity, which I got professionally to make sure I was OK. Nobody can say I am off the beat. Police and Magistrates should have the same. If a car has to have a warrant of fitness then why shouldn’t a human. I maintain that all people who have powers should have certificate of sanity to make sure they’re not really mucking things up."

"I’m always on a crusade to make people understand there is more to life than talk back radio 1ZB. They have put a ban on me I am not allowed to speak on 1ZB. Any person who has an opinion on anything, that is their opinion. As long as they don’t try and force it down other peoples throats like the Mormon Church. Mr Smith founded the church in America and then sent out all his disciples on bikes all over the world. Well that is alright as long as they realise that their Mr Smith was another nutter."

Every dog-eared letter from a government minister, every yellowed newspaper clipping on Steeds van tells me his name is John, but he says,

"I insist upon Robert. John is a fallacy of mine because of the Avenger series, because John Steed and Emma Peel did fix up things and I have done a lot of fixing up since I have been out. It's a Ford Transit, 1973, found in a wreckers yard. Old Bill was scratched into its head. But its now called Chugalug because I’m a fan of Roger Miller. Because he’s doing the sort thing I do, writing his own stuff and putting some good country meaning to it. And I’m doing the same thing. I’ve written a song called “No Cash Kiwi” and “Auckland City Welcome to New Zealand” and “Waikato Why?” I have made a CD but I won’t go commercial. But I will perform my songs to groups and I hold copyright reserve."

Steed's new anthem would feature the chorus: New Zealand, New Zealand / Land of the Long White Cloud / New Zealand, New Zealand / People who live within are very proud. He has spoken to business groups, Lions Clubs and Country and Western Music Societies of which he is a member of many about his ideas. He even claims to own copyright to the music to the New Zealand anthem God Defend New Zealand.

"Telecom will spend millions on a boat race but wouldn’t spend a cent on improving our an anthem. I have my superannuation and I use all that money -tax payers money- on the promotion of God Defend NZ as our National anthem recognising the war dead of all those who didn’t have to get involved in the many wars that were not our business."

Steed's message to NZ:
"Have a lot more National Pride in what you individually do. No matter what it is whether its looking after the house you live in or helping other people. National pride because you are in New Zealand which is an unique country which has been developed to a point where all people are accepted regardless of their race and religion."
©burgseye2011

West

2011-03-28T22:46:00.003+13:00

Approximately Auckland

2011-03-13T10:14:00.002+13:00

©burgseye2011

Use art to turn the world inside out

2011-03-08T23:00:00.003+13:00

Couldn't have have said it better...Taking it to the streets, this global guerilla art project makes a difference in the world and orignator "JR's" presentation makes for the most inspired 24 minutes I've spent in some time.
To quote his website "JR creates "Pervasive Art" that spreads uninvited on the buildings of the slums around Paris, on the walls in the Middle-East, on the broken bridges in Africa or the favelas in Brazil. People who often live with the bare minimum discover something absolutely unnecessary. And they don't just see it, they make it. Some elderly women become models for a day; some kids turn artists for a week. In that Art scene, there is no stage to separate the actors from the spectators."

Use art to turn the world inside out | Video on TED.com

Portrait courtesy of JR website.

Visitors from Nelson

2011-03-02T15:29:00.004+13:00

I meet Izzy and Pak (above) at the recent Headland Sculpture on the Gulf trail on Waiheke. It's hysterical watching the reaction of the audience as the two Nelson teens spontaneously alight on a sculpture of choice, get down naked and then lie around taking in the rays as if there was no-one else around..

Cheers guys.

©burgseye

Praune

2011-02-21T14:48:00.011+13:00

Praune (Prat-one) appears out of the cooler shadows of Wat Koh Samet, Yellow sash over his umber-gold monk robes. Praune is immediately charming and politely poses for Aaron a -fellow photographer- with a few incense and prayer above the head shots beneath the all-seeing gaze of the Big Guy. Praune then invites us into his chapel. We're on a press famil and really don't have time but he insists. Once inside he begins explaining how newly built it is and starts giving us each embossed Buddha charms. "A lucky gift for you."

We each receive seven charms a piece, representing seven days of happiness. "I want you have, you have." Then comes a hustle, Praune first telling us about the new paint job on the large temple and how they need donations. He does all this with just a smattering of English words and a lot of mime.

To prove his point and to shake some more shekels from us he leads us out back through some scrub to a large Wat. Here a girl sleeps beneath a mural of a reclining Buddha and a mural painter of the Wat's walls sits crossed legged in meditation listening to some confounding and epic free jazz playing loud from a cassette player.

Praune lets us have a once over of the interior, a painters work in progress, poses for a few more shots before getting busy trying to up-sell my donation. Apparently its not the equivalent value to his Buddha ‘gifts.’ He’s hedging for at least ten K. I don't have it. Aaron leaves his charms on a window sill and a donation in Praune's pocket.

Praune is visibly upset that Aaron doesn't want his tiny Buddha's despite the fact that he has his coin. I'm loving this polite haggle with a pushy monk. Short of him frisking me, I empty my pockets of remaining cash (a couple of coins) After a time he begrudgingly accepts that despite the expensive camera's these boys are simply not holding the expected wads of Kings portraits. So with hands in prayer position we bid each other good bye. Him still muttering something about "not enough."

©burgseye 2011

The Strange Amusgos

2011-02-21T10:46:00.005+13:00

I just came across this bunch of images that I had randomly shot last year as I sat in front of a friend's new continent-sized flat screenTV. I was channel surfing and suddenly chanced upon some exquisite 1930's cinematography by Ed Myers called "The Strange Amusgos" (Amuzgos.) I've been to Mexico a few times and have visited the Amuzgos' native state of Oaxaca, but have never heard of the tribe nor Ed Myers.

About a minute into the imagery, mostly shot around some kind of festival (the sound was muted) my response was to pick up the camera, if only as a reference to check out this show later. Myers' compositions were so beautiful and the body language so natural I decided to set the shutter speed to turtle and start pushing the zoom in an effort to make things more painterly and hopefully add something of my own.

Later I learned that the footage is part of a collection called: "Indian Tribes of Unknown Mexico", a series of amateur ethnographic films by Harry Wright and Ed Myers. Harry Wright resided in Mexico City and was a successful businessman who traveled extensively throughout Mexico. Wright not only funded the 16mm films he also edited and narrated the originals too. There are 1245 films in the Harry Wright Collection at the Library of Congress.

According to Houston Culture "the Amuzgo Indians inhabit the border region of southeastern Guerrero and southwestern Oaxaca. Speaking three primary dialects, an estimated 28,000 Amuzgos were registered in the 1990 Mexican census. The Amuzgos call themselves Tzjon non, which means People of the Textiles. In 1457, the Aztec Emperor Moctezuma Illhuicamia partially conquered these people. However rebellions against Aztec rule took place in 1494 and 1504-7. Although the uprisings were suppressed, the Aztecs never totally subjugated the Amuzgos. Today, the Amuzgos of Oaxaca live in Putla and San Pedro Amuzgos.The Amuzgo language the thirteenth most common linguistic group of all Oaxaca¹s indigenous tongues."

Apologies to the estate of Ed Myers for the plundering of his imagery!

not even sure I claim: ©burgseye2011

Alani and Goliath

2011-02-15T10:18:00.009+13:00

A couple of weeks back I was photographing tiny details on an alley wall in Otahuhu when I was suddenly approached by a thickset -determined looking- Tongan bloke. At first suspicious of my intentions Alani Taione then introduces himself. I chat enthusiastically about my various visits to the exquisite Vava'u Group ( in northern Tonga.) Ten minutes later we're deep into an emotionally charged conversation about the politics in his homeland.

Taione, as it turns out, is infamous -in the South Seas at least. A branded “political activist” trying to affect Democratic change in his home country. In South Pacific terms this is an epic struggle; Alani versus "a corrupt government" sitting at the behest of a centuries old monarchy.

Taione heads the New Zealand branch of the Tonga Democratic Party. He is a mechanic by trade but recently graduated with a communications qualification from Manukau institute of Technology. He says he studied to get an understanding of the media and media law, a topic close to his heart.

In 2004 he was arrested at Tongatapu airport upon his arrival from New Zealand, for distributing around 20 copies of the banned news weekly "Taimi 'o Tonga" ("Times of Tonga.") In open defiance of Tongan governmental censorship, Taione brandished a copy of the news weekly in front of customs officials when he arrived at Tongatapu and then handed out his remaining copies inside the airport.

He was charged for "importing and circulation of a banned publication." He says he knows he every time he goes back to Tonga he will be arrested and locked up but he says he keeps going back when he can, to draw attention to the nations repressive freedom-of-speech laws.

In 2006 it was reported that, “the Tongan royal family's Auckland residence was attacked by an anti-monarchy protester Alani Taione.” On this occasion he drove a car into the locked gates of the Royal Family's Auckland residence and set it alight.” He was charged with arson and property damage.“My people are poor,” says Taione, “our Monarchy does nothing for them. I don’t have much, my family sleeps on the floor but I want to fight for all Tongans democratic rights.

Lately he’s being critical of the Tongan and New Zealand governments handling of the Princess Ashika ferry disaster. Taione claims the Tongan Government hasn’t conducted a salvage operation because it might uncover evidence that would expose Tongan Ministers. He believes dodgy government deals caused the deaths of 74 people in the sinking of the Princess Ashika. It was a local joke in Tonga that the 37 year old rust bucket -owned by a New Zealander- was not sea worthy. Every time she sailed passengers were taking their lives into their own hands.

Taione then breaks down -tears in the alley with a total stranger- saying, "I'd like the New Zealand and Australian Governments -and the United Nations- not to give any more to Tonga until the nation diverts that money to recover the bodies of our loved ones. I love New Zealand this country has given me opportunities, this my home too but Mr. Key is supporting a corrupt regime."

Still Taione is resolutely optimistic, "One day soon," he says, "the people will rule. The truth will set the people of Tonga free."

©burgseye 2011

Splore City

2011-02-14T13:10:00.010+13:00

It was Saturday night about 7:30 when I disappeared down the rabbit hole that was The Auckland Town Hall. Eric Orr was creating a mural in the entry way and a Martin Horspool robot greeted me at the bottom of the stairs.

It might of been daylight outside but down here it was three am. Four Tet was on stage and already the dance floor was sticky.The enormous back stage wall of Victorian organ pipes came to life with a site specific light show from Dub Module that augmented the between act psychedubstep mash-ups from Doc Westie.

Other than Caribou the line-up was beyond my usual listening sphere but then that is Splore, musical surprises abound and I was about to get my ears blown back.

Bellaruche were as sassy as Alice Russell channeling Minuit. Mayer Hawthorne tore the place apart with a blistering soul set straight out of Sixties Motor City from where he hails. He did a trans-generational Steely Dan cover that fair pumped. And Caribou completely lifted the lid off the old hall. The quartet encircled mid-stage -drummer to the fore- the driving future rhythms riding symphonic ground swells of bass straight from the earth's core.

A Roswell like alien figure by the name of Empress Stah launched from a high wire about 20 metres above the floor dizzying the crowd with effortless acrobatics. She later took to the stage wearing nothing but glitter which she proceeded to de-robe herself from. And if that wasn't already enuff kit removal then the loco Cuban Brothers got down to their undies before you could say budgie smuggler. Dutty or dirty however you say it, ribald and ridiculous, the perfect end to a great night.

Can't wait for Splore 2012 back at Tapapakanga beach.

©burgseye 2011

In the Hood of Zeros

2011-02-08T14:42:00.010+13:00

I recently spent the day in the company of Zeros one of Auckland City's unique characters. Retiring but incredibly pro-artive, Zeros has -since the early Seventies- been painting (for a time with Crown Lynn Ceramics,) devising and installing guerrilla-style public artwork, anonymous art, playing and promoting music and creating venues for performance arts and music gigs.

The late great Arcadia on Symonds St was a brainchild of his.
That particular building in an historic strip owned by the asset-stripping Brierley's Corporation was occupied for a time -throughout the early-mid 1990's- by like-minded souls paying rent and leading creative lives while trying to prolong the life of some classic Aotearoan edifices that had been left derelict.

It wasn't the first time Zeros had been up against the corporates nor tried to save a building. He was instrumental in occupying and calling attention to the demolition plans of Victoria Park Market, the Shot Tower in Mt Eden, The Jewish Synague in Symonds St, the annex to Old Customshouse and an old cinema now operating as the 'Studio' venue in K Rd, to name but a few. As a member of the Outerspace Art Movement he tried without success to save the old Tea Rooms at the start of the incline to Mt. Eden, the giant Gasometer in Freemans Bay as well as the houses that poet J.K. Baxter and early colonial painter Charles Blomfield had lived at in the inner city suburb of Grafton. Their M.O was simply to utilize delapidated spaces as art venues.
Z eros' insistence of moving into and refurbing run down spaces has seen him lead a kind of one man altruistic charge and campaign of passive resistance to the quick-buck likes of Real Estate companies and Corporates who seemingly hold no value for history and use the police to oversee Zeros' various evictions.

High rents and an apparent lack of character buildings have forced Zeros out into the sub-urban wilderness of greater Auckland. He currently resides in an ancient bakery storehouse, down a discrete lane behind the shops overflowing with fake flowers, knock-off clothing brands and lurid lava lava's along Otahuhu's main drag. The suburb named for Maori chief, Tahuhu.

Here too Zeros has restoration plans. He has already painted his alley white and lit it to deter some nefarious nocturnal activities while encouraging graff art to beautify the surrounds. Unfortunately a nearby real estate firm thought the sterile white walls a better option and had the mural removed.

He is already known to the local business community not least for his natty dress sense but also for his unconventional lifestyle and his vision for currently untenanted premises. Here he continues to collect cast-offs and ready-mades for his assemblage art. In the clutter of found, given and rebuilt analogue recording equipment, home made instruments and giant speaker stacks he experiments with sound. And from time to time when he's not restoring paintings for others he can be found painting on commission or on a whim.
Thanks to the people of the 'Hu who welcomed us into their day and to camera-shy Zeros for allowing me lens access to his gentle chaos.

©burgseye2011

Splore City This Week

2011-02-06T19:34:00.007+13:00

This weekend (February 11th-12th) the Victorian glam of Auckland Town Hall gets its shake on with Splore City. Get your freak on to the sights and sounds of Kelis, Mayer Hawthorne, Caribou, Shortee Blitz, Four Tet, Dub Module, Fly My Pretties, Empress Stah, J-Star and Belleruche. Its gonna be Hot! I know where I'll be.

Above are a taster from Splore 2010.
©burgseye 2011

Hue

2011-01-26T09:03:00.006+13:00

©burgseye2011

Summer break new decade

2011-01-24T13:21:00.004+13:00

©burgseye2011

beached on boxing day

2011-01-08T20:19:00.007+13:00

©burgseye 2010

Best to All

2010-12-24T14:13:00.005+13:00

©burgseye 2010

over taranaki

2010-12-18T15:13:00.002+13:00

It's a northerly blow straight from the tropics, painting out the view today with shades of grey and if lucky dull dirty white. this time last year -or thereabouts- I was overhead Taranaki to start a roadtrip out of Marahau. These three views made within a couple of minutes between Stratford and the South Taranaki Bight.

one sky

2010-12-16T11:47:00.003+13:00

one sky©burgseye 2010

nothing to see here

2010-12-14T21:06:00.004+13:00

phelps and munro's nothing to see here is just one noisy mad slice of juiciness on the Round Trip Mars aural fruit platter. You'll find it and plenty more for free at the labels' Soundcloud account. The inspiration for the collation of these five pics though, came while listening to another RTM stablemate, the kraftwerkesque space cowboy Jefferson Belt's Skylurking another oddity in the very deep vaults of eeklectronic strangeness at RTM. Loving it!

©burgseye2010

Fish

2010-12-06T11:02:00.006+13:00

I've been doing some work with good folks down at the Auckland Fish Markets. The early morning auction floor is a particularly interesting venue for viewing the wide variety of species, fresh from the boats. I kind of lost time gazing at fish heads and eyes, the bizarre shapes, the beautiful and downright weird creatures from the deep. Quite different from the sight of fish wrapped in shapeless beer batter and served with chips.
Here's a few faces that caught my attention and the Mr. Scruff tune that wouldn't stop playing in my head as I was shooting.

©burgseye2010

Matchbook

2010-12-06T10:16:00.006+13:00

According to wikipedia: "a matchbook is a small paperboard folder (matchcover) enclosing a quantity of matches and having a coarse striking surface on the exterior."

Matchbooks to me hold as many memories as a photograph. A place in time that is so familiar yet so distant. My father was a traveller and at one point an avid cigarette smoker. He tried to collect matchbooks but they always disappeared before he could amass a collection. My Uncle on the other smoked cigars and pipes, a slower more methodical practise, maybe that is why he managed to collect so many matchbooks. These are a few from his collection. These are from local 'hospo' establishment's that I remember from my childhood plus one from a Navy Bar that looks very Village People, if you catch my drift.

Christchurch Seen

2010-11-26T12:39:00.006+13:00

©burgseye 2010

Dream

2010-11-24T14:49:00.006+13:00

The other night I dreamed I was riding in a tuktuk..

©burgseye2010

Five Walls

2010-11-17T13:33:00.006+13:00

Five Walls.

Lip service for recent blog neglect.

A recent whirlwind visit to the Shaky City AKA Christchurch proves fruitful in a number of ways.

Two aftershocks in as many days. The locals are edgy, running on frayed nerves and adrenaline. Manchester blocked by a great pile of dirt with a crane parked on top.

Tourists going herded between trams and tour buses. Riccarton raceday punters getting trashed in their finery on "the Strip," skatepunks, hiphopsters, solo parenting teens and a ragtag crew of street buskers and street people lingering along Cashel Mall, gondoliers moving punt loads of camera snappers beneath the bridges and through the weeping willows.

Cabbie barely drawing breath for a half hour trip to the airport, as he relives earthquake highlights, collateral damage in the burbs and psychological unraveling of family members. "three thousand aftershocks and they keep telling people that the big one is still to come."

©burgseye 2010

Galaxy

2010-10-06T17:27:00.003+13:00

If an universe can be contained within a grain of sand then there's a galaxy of possibilities in a square foot -or two- of wall.

©burgseye 2010

torn and blue

2010-10-05T11:22:00.003+13:00

Two more, shot on the same day same place. Playing with pairings, if printed at large scale I'm not sure if that will be really necessary but in the interim seeing if the conversation between images is worthy of extended viewing..

©burgseye2010

the ebb of flow

2010-10-04T19:58:00.006+13:00

©burgseye2010

From...(A Thai perspective)

2010-10-04T12:54:00.007+13:00

Grabshots from Thailand, well Bangkok mostly...

The ones from a bike seat were taken on an Amazing Colours of Bangkok bike Tour.
This kind of off-beat adventure el-Prez relishes and despite the mercury climbing close to boiling and with little time for extensive photography, the tour provided an exceptional insight into parts of Bangkok that tourists ordinarily wouldn't get a peek into. Some might not want to either. But if -like me- you wanna get the lowdown the Recreational Bangkok Biking Co. will get you there. But first: above: From a bus window near Bangkok train station.

From a bike seat in a Bangkok slum.

Giant billboards are a feature of the modern Thai skyline this one from a bus window along the Bangkok-Pattaya Expressway.

Also from the bike seat.

From a bus window.

©burgseye 2010

Mama Never Told Me 'Bout Girls Like these

2010-09-29T18:15:00.008+13:00

Mama never told bout girls like these, Papa did. Dad had met a few "lady boys" back in the dirty ole sixties when Singapore's Bugis Street was the equivalent of Bangkok's Patpong Road. In those days before Adams apple reductions, breast implants and sex changes these femme fatales could sucker any blue-blooded males. Hahaha.

With technology and make-up these days its hard to tell if the boys are watching girls or the girls are watching boys. In Pattaya anything is possible and at the Alcazar Cabaret the "girls" are guaranteed to spring a few surprises.

I got to go back stage and meet some of the starlets on a recent press junket.Thanks Ladies you are gems. The family owned Cabaret has been in operation for 29 years and has had millions through the door. On the night I went the international flow of voyeuristic traffic didn't look like abating any time soon.

The Thai's are generally considered a fairly non-judgemental bunch, but even so Lady Boys still have a spot of trouble getting gainful employment and gaining acceptance in some areas of the wider community. Many are reduced to turning tricks on the streets with the posses of Pattaya girls who like them, come to the beach looking for good times, money and husbands. Shows like Alcazar offer legitimate venues for the girls to get creative.

As far as Drag shows go Alcazar is probably up there with the Parisian traditions, No Dorothy we're not at Caluzzi's any more. With the Thai attention to detail Alcazar is a pretty sophisticated spectacle of beautifully painted sets, state of the art light show and throbbing sound system. The shows cover off everything from the King and I..

to Lady Gaga.

and camply crosses SE Asian culture from the Emperors courts of China through to the palaces of Indian maharajah's.

Many of the girls perform three shows per day and after every performance go outside to meet and be photographed with the audience which just about drives the bus loads of men, women and teenage boys to near ecstasy.

They say you haven't seen Pattaya if you haven't been to Alcazar, I'm not sure if that's true but it certainly adds another rich layer in a city and society with more skins than a cosmetic surgery.

©burgseye2010

Vava'u review

2010-09-02T15:09:00.003+12:00

Three more from Vava'u. The last Pacific island group to be "discovered" by Europeans. Still free of chain fenced resorts. Faith and State reign supreme, at least two houses of God in every village, tithing every spare penny from threadbare communities collectively and almost continually weaving giant mats, surrendering much valued pigs, taro and other food for gilt edged coronations, royal weddings, births and deaths.

Subsistence lifestyles, devastating cyclone seasons, baffling bureaucracy, faulty infrastructure. There's little but kava, prayer and stunning scenery to get by on, yet resolve in these frontier islands remains undaunted.

The Dish magazine featuring a story about Vava'u vanilla is due out, September 20th.

©burgseye 2010

Boulder of Spirits

2010-09-02T13:07:00.007+12:00

Mt Kinabalu is the Kadazan people's Boulder of Spirits. The climb to Lows Peak takes two days. You overnight at the shoulder in a lodge and are woken at 2am for the final ascent to the summit for sunrise. Unfortunately the spirits linked hands for our arrival and the promised view over all Sabah is blanketed out by a thick rolling fog that pours over the precipices like ghouls with attitude. While it's a steamy 35+ on the city sidewalks of nearby Kota Kinbalu, it's -2ºC up here on the roof of Borneo.

Half the height of Everest and 500 metres taller than Aoraki/Mt Cook altitude sickness and hypothermia are real dangers up here yet somehow vertiginous novices with guides (everyone has to have one) still make it even in city-street clothes! Kept safe perhaps by local priests who acknowledging the Gods sacrifice six chickens at the start of each season.

Endorphin junkies have been known to knock the bastard off in an astonishing 2:30 hours in the annual marathon. Hey Suess! Not sure what kind of compression must occur on their joints because after an eight hour descent on endless staircases across the longer Mesilau track my thighs and knees feel like someone had been bashing them with a baseball bat. The lactic acid burn lasted for a good week and my blackened toe nails finally dropped out two months later. But don't let me put you off. The adventure was well worth it. There's no need for ropes or cramp-ons. It's one steady climb up which I'd do it again before you can say SIr Ed.

©burgseye2010

the wind blows us north

2010-09-01T10:37:00.005+12:00

sometimes mornings blur into days, nights, weeks, the feet barely hit the ground.

mostly i like it this way, every day rolling out surprises and there's just enough of a hunger to make me think of the possibilities of a change in wind direction and where that might take me. it was on one such morning when mrs el presidente suggested a TOD in vietnam.

so the oncoming southerly is blowing us towards S.E. Asia this week. A holiday for the missus and no doubt a busmans for moi. already thinking about things to do to generate stories. however as i am no pilgrim to this ever more popular part of the world it's been a little difficult to so far sell more than a single story.

probably a good thing i'll be less inclined to think about others' expectations and more about roaming with a free eye. the prospect of cash corrupts even when i'm trying to steer the thinking towards some kind of purity! hah, the conundrum of being a human.

anyway looking forward to a whistle-stop rekkie of a place i have always wanted to go. planning to relax into the fine food and steamy atmosphere up north at the tail end of the monsoon while already conspiring excuses to trace Kurtz beyond the Delta on a more extensive trip later.

in the meantime i gotta go pack...

one wall

2010-08-18T17:00:00.005+12:00

The mad crazy Thai town of Pattaya.

©burgseye2010

up the river

2010-08-17T22:39:00.004+12:00

Three from up a 2009 trip up the Whanganui River Road to Pipiriki with the DIG Reverend AKA Neil Buddle. A DIG research expedition for Neil's next print project called Waterlines that picks up from the 2005 Sightline series.

An excuse to catch up with an old mate, take a Roadcraft campervan for a spin, spin some tunes, get a little skywards and touch base on an icy mid-winter volcanic plateau.

Taste fresh smoked eel from the market at Riva Cafe, watch MC5 DVDS deep in the forest beneath the mountain, have a dip at Tokaanu Pools, pay respects at the Tangiwai Rail Memorial and check out the superb, unsealed and remote Whangaehu River road.

Must be about time to hit the road again soon...

©burgseye2010

random and retro

2010-08-04T14:17:00.007+12:00

Three random images from a here and now set, lets call it the house and garden chapter. Hamilton in the first, Oneroa second and a Ponsonby Rd. shop window to cap it.

Net sometime around 2002, Brian and Stephanie's, one Sunday arvo

Oneroa skyline around 1999.

Back in a minute. 1996

tread lightly

2010-07-22T22:39:00.004+12:00

"God is a metaphor for a mystery that absolutely transcends all human categories of thought, even the categories of being and non-being - those are categories of thought. It's as simple as that." Joseph Campbell

Fireside Musical Adventures

2010-07-21T16:18:00.005+12:00

Winter is for skiers and the Baltic States, give me sunshine and tequila and I'll tell you what I can do for ya. The tireless Stinky Jim has generously posted a few more links to free downloads, check him out in his pursuit of fresh happiness for the ears.

Another message to self

2010-07-07T19:06:00.002+12:00

A juju-gumbo prescription from the good Dr... John, of course.

Reflections on feeding time in Tonga

2010-07-05T11:42:00.006+12:00

Here's a couple of quick edits pulled from a selection I shot in Vava'u in Tonga. The basis of the trip was to follow two international chefs Peter Gordon and Natasha MacAller, prepping and cooking in trying conditions, improvising with limited choices and cook up a storm for paying foodies who came for an accelerated schooling in the sleight of hand techniques of fusion cuisine and the fine arts of pastry rustling.

Vava'u is raw. Life is simple, read poor and food is as big a feature here as it is in any of the Pacific Islands. The container ship with most of the provisions on board was six weeks late so what our two chefs did while winging it with local ingredients and delicious local grown vanilla was gob-smackingly mouthwatering.

Heilala Vanilla and John Ross who hosted the tour, have put the humble village/island of Utugnake on the world culinary stage. Not that you'd know that when you're here. Life still carries on oblivious to everything but necessity and the tolls of the church bells.

The Neiafu market was the source of joy and discovery for Peter and 'Tash. I love meeting passionate people but I've never been around people more motivated by food, the cooking of it or learning about it, as these two. The market turned up a real gem, the multi-purpose Kola Lime. From cocktails to Ota Ika, these mandarin sweet lemony flavoured green citrus were the hit of the trip.

On the final day, a Sunday, we were treated to an Umu (hangi in NZ) by the Latu family who run the plantation for Ross. The pride of the feast was a freshly killed pig which Peter later glazed with a vanilla based sauce using a coconut husk brush. The villagers were wondering why he was bothering. But after he was finished turning the pig on the wood pole rotisserie over the hot umu stones, the Utugnakians were coming back for the crackling seconds as if pork fat was a new found delicacy in the islands. Yeah Right.

You can keep your Masterchef programs. Watching real deal chefs working in real life situations -albeit in idyll desert island locations- while entertaining a group of guests all well versed in fine dining was poetry in motion. The real beauty was seeing them interact and garner knowledge from Tongans who have no time or need for the pomp and ceremony of European table manners but who equally -if not more- love to celebrate life through offering on the dining table.

The Pull

2010-06-21T12:54:00.007+12:00

The Tractor Pull, if only for the ditzy bottle-blonde compere who in all seriousness, cab hopped the tractors asking their drivers things like: "Was that a good pull?""Did you enjoy your pull?""How long have you been pulling?""Who do you think is the better puller?"And, "Do you think you could out-pull me?"

©burgseye2010

GOING BACK

2010-06-08T12:36:00.005+12:00

On the eve of the first anniversary (well almost) of burgseyephotos.blogspot I get to go back to one of the first places that I posted about, Vava'u, Tonga.

This time around I will be photographing the harvest of vanilla at the Heilala Plantation as well as documenting the father of fusion cuisine, NZ ex-pat chef Peter Gordon in action as he cooks up vanilla infused dishes for a touring team of foodies.

Vava'u is a very special part of the Pacific, relatively speaking -and hurricanes aside- it remains untouched. I feel rather honoured to be able to return so soon.

. I will be covering all things food related for Dish magazine and the plantation, people of Utungake Village and Neiafu for a Heilala Recipe book.

Quite frankly I can't wait to get back into the heat...

©burgseye 2010

FOX BOY

2010-06-08T09:04:00.009+12:00

I've just finished Peter Walker's "The Fox Boy" (pub. Bloomsbury, 2001.) Part history, part biography and part auto biography, FB is a great narrative woven around the kidnapping of a Maori boy from Taranaki who is then raised by a Prime Minister William Fox, during one of the sorriest/darkest periods of New Zealand's history. The book climaxes in November 1881, as 2,500 Colonial soldiers and volunteers descend on the marae/township at Parihaka, where they were met not by warriors brandishing arms but hundreds of children playing and singing and the worlds first major sit-in numbering in the thousands. Under the leadership of the prophets, Te Whiti o Rongomai and Tohu Kakahi the community drew on ancient spiritual teachings and newly learnt Christian principals to live harmoniously while challenging the Colonial government on their growing injustices and appetite for land grabs. Passive resistance half a century before Gandhi's legendary salt march. Parihaka does not feature on roadmaps today, the land was carved up around the old settlement and nationwide statues were erected to celebrate the achievements of the greedy colonial gentry, while Parihaka has become an enduring symbol of peace and every year in early January a peace festival held at the marae.

Below are excerpts of a speech Te Whiti made to his people and to returned prisoners, many of whom were suffering psychologically from their internment. His vision is prescient, to say the least...

"It is not right that fear of war, or imprisonment, should be made master of the world, and that the great and strong (the Colonials/English) by coercion, should become masters of creation. It is not right that the men of the island (Maori) should be made slaves to fear of war, anger and vexation or that the land should be relinquished from that cause. If it happened to be the case that the world had been created in a feeling of anger and vexation then it would be right that these should continue to do rule the world, and conclude all things. But no the world was created through love and all things made upon the face of the earth were created out of affection and love. Therefore, I say, since things commenced with love, our affairs should continue by love, through to the end. I will not allow strength, unhappiness, anger, war and tumult to finish things that we are engaged in...

Struggle, war, quarrels of all kinds...no good has ever come from them. Therefore I implore this gathering not to allow war, or the fear of war, to become masters of the land. Do not engage in the first and be patient, so that there is no excuse made for it.

My words are not unimportant for they concern the whole world. The old bad way of settling questions of land is to be abolished; land problems will be settled by love, The things I propose are entirely new. Until now all quarrels have been settled by a strong hand, by war, bloodshed, struggle and unhappiness of all kinds, innumerable evils and the vanquishing of the weak. Now let us take no heed of evils brought into the world by Adam, but look back further back and see that the heavens and the earth were created out of love. It was when man grew envious and angry that land questions came to depend on the fighting strength of the disputants...Under all your tribulations, let the great men of the island see you calm and peaceable behaviour, your patient and cheerful state of mind...

Those that despise you for your quiescent and uncomplaining attitude will do so because of the novelty of such behaviour. Nothing good and lasting has ever been accomplished by might, strength, war. If there had had been, then there would be a good reason to laugh at us for our patience under wrong and spoliation...Quarrels, fighting, fear of war and war itself - these from now on shall not be allowed to dominate the land..."

The Big Guy

2010-06-03T16:44:00.010+12:00

It always strikes me as odd how the 'Lord' Buddha shed all his worldlies and made for a fairly anonymous existence on his middle road to enlightenment, yet is consistently celebrated in Goliath size statues. Aesthetically I love Buddha's, all shapes and sizes. Reminders to man that there's something bigger than all of us pulling the strings of our short and fragile lives. Symbolic figures of that that transcends all being.

I've made plenty of studies of 'religioso' (as Mrs el-Prez calls it) from various travels. These are three of my favourite Buddha's. The image above hangs in our stairwell, all seeing eye watching our daily movements. In real life he sits high on the hill overlooking the tea-town of Kandy in Sri Lanka. It's raining when we arrive, a thick tropical downpour. In parts away from the beautiful manmade lake in the centre of town, the foot paths are dirt. Mud puddles are to be avoided unless of course you are a truck driver. At 1629 ft above sea level Kandy is thankfully cooler than the honking chaos of Columbo. The town once a stronghold of Sinhalese kings was taken by the English in 1815, they did a good job of installing some grand colonial architecture. The name of our guesthouse escapes me but our hosts turn out to be managers of a remote tea estate deep in the highlands called Galaboda. Later we head there for a night. We get to meet but not talk to some Tamil tea pickers. This was at the beginning of the civil war -early 90's- in my naivety I thought all Tamils would be away supporting the 'Tigers' who are fighting Government troops in the north and east. The pickers are desperately poor but then so is most of the country.

Mr. Yellow Buddha is in the south of Sri Lanka somewhere near the beaches of Unawatuna. This little tear drop island on the necklace of India is around 85% Buddhist and features some of the oldest and most beautiful stone effigies you'll see anywhere. Mr. Yellow however is seven stories of pure concrete and sits open handed in the lotus position mediating on the devotees making their way up the steel staircase that takes viewers to the top and its not often one gets to be at eye level with the bug guy. To experience the magnitude of his teachings we visited the ancient towns of Dambulla with its cave of Buddha's, the stupa filled plains of Polonnaruwa and the World Heritage Anuradhapura, established in 437BC. The latter two cities were important seats of learning in there day. We try to go north to Jaffna but there are army road blocks everywhere and the port city is under constant shelling from Navy ships during the night. We had come in peace so we head south.

Changing the tone now, the gold leaf Buddhas of Bangkok are an oxymoron to Buddha's ascetic teachings but none the less gob-smacking gorgeous. Like Sri Lanka's 20 + years civil war, it's hard to imagine Bangkok's recent turmoils particularly when one witnesses the tranquility of devout denizens in the City of Angels, laying out their garlands of marigolds, igniting candles, incense and making lotus flower prayers. The 32m tall standing buddha of Wat Indrawiharn was once visible across the city but now is swamped by ugly multi story buildings. There must be a metaphor in here somewhere...

©burgseye 2010

No Expectations

2010-06-02T20:08:00.005+12:00

It must be the onset of winter thats got me feeling bluer than a Stilton. It's not just me I notice the TV news has an item on Depression too. I love winter for the fact it makes me love Summer more. But I know folk who would rather the cold, sooner them...

Music though, is my healer. I have been basking in digital sunshine and as it goes some, fitting moodiness, with the sensational and audacious aural pleasures (many free to download) at www.soundcloud.com There's all kinds of genre defying digital musics from across all hemispheres. Its always nice to get a slice of some new choons -and lets be honest, particularly when they are given.

Thats the Yin, the Yang's been dipping into another era and end of the musical scale. The very cool http://ironleg.wordpress.com/ is up to volume 33 of Larry "Iron-Leg" Grogan's funky-ass, vintage-kitsch, fuzzed up and downloadable playlists, featuring rarities and oddities aplenty, many which simply never made it to these shores. Jangling treble can jangle the sub bass and equalised Ipod nerve ends but there's an open sky redemption and promise in the pre punk gold mine that Iron leg works in. If you like it you can leave Larry a pledge to go on making compilations, but I dare say he'll go on anyway cos his passion runs so deep, that when he's not DJing and running a radio show'podcasts he's also putting together his flagship blog, the booty shaking http://funky16corners.lunarpages.net/ where he reveals treasures from an infinitely vast vault of rare soul and funk grooves.

Gotta love people like this and you gotta share their joy around. It'd be rude not to.

©burgseye 2010

Motels

2010-05-31T15:04:00.004+12:00

The allure of accommodation signage is a constant hook.

Most often the road signs and the interiors have very little in common.

Some set some lofty expectations and others well, they best reflect their location.

Motel Anywhere:

On the stainless steel sink bench sits a kettle, a rack of individually packaged tea bags, instant coffee, long life milk, sachets of white sugar and some foul tasting sweetener equivalent. Folded check tea towels and a yellow sponge cloth are in a plastic tray behind a white cupboard door beneath the sink. A small bottle of forest green Palmolive dishwashing liquid standing guard. White cups, saucers and plates,slightly frilled at their edges, are straight out China sometime mid eighties. The drinking glasses are dulled, thick lipped and scratched. The two wine glasses strangely gleaming in comparison. Two chairs and a formica table. Soap sealed in plastic, a stiff shower curtain. Crisp bleached sheets can't quite hide the faint odour of long departed guests, heads too, leave their own familiar bouquet on pillows. The alarm clock flashing 12.00, flashing 12:00, flashing 12:00, talkback radio kicks in very loud when I reset the time. A browned and dented card folded into a free standing triangular channel guide sits on the top of the TV on a well thumbed monthly SKY magazine with daily menu's for each of the copious channel choices. The door of the small empty fridge is open. There's coat hangers from every decade since the 1950's in the tiny wardrobe. Shadowy figures pass outside the curtain netting. A peep hole, a brass security chain, a fire exit strategy and suitcase scuff on the door. Faded cheap prints tell of other places.

RIP Dennis Hopper

2010-05-30T22:33:00.004+12:00

R.I.P Dennis Lee Hopper, Actor, Director, Photographer and Artist (May 17, 1936 – May 29, 2010.)

I grew up with a giant poster from the Hopper directed Easy Rider featuring Peter Fonda, and Hopper riding their 'ape-hanger' choppers through the Californian desert. My father brought the poster back from the US in the early 70's, I'm not sure why, he didn't particularly like motorbikes, hippies, outlaws, marijuana or 'far out' music. I'm thankful though. That image (long since lost to time) left an indelible impression on my young subconscious. It was a constant call to travel and inspired my naieve notions of a Beat road-trip. As a photographer Hopper is probably best known for the image called Double Standard - which continues to endure in my list of faves- yet he also faithfully gathered a collection of sixties and seventies images, particularly the arts scene, worthy as any. In many ways played himself as the gone-troppo photojournalist in, Coppola's Apocalypse Now.

Boom Town

2010-05-28T17:04:00.002+12:00

The ancient Mexican silver town of Taxco, Guerrero is about two hours from the burning, busy beaches of Acupulco and about two centuries removed. We arrive on an Estrella de Oro bus, the volume of the TV turned beyond max, action movies playing all the way. A groaning, thumping, slap, crash-banging ride. The moment we step down on to the cobble streets in Taxco, Mariachi's kick into a rambunctious barrage that sounds like a perpetual tune up while mortar loud fireworks boom overhead and young kids in costumes make to the church for the Dia del Padre festival (essentially a celebration of the all seeing, big daddy in the sky.) By night boys run in and out under a spinning top on a bamboo pyramid, earth shaking thunder crackers raining sparks on the heads of the young, burning effigy's stuffed full of exploding fireworks are paraded into the square and out of control sky rocket are fired in and out of the crowd. Yo hombre, pass that tequila.

NYC 1997

2010-05-27T13:40:00.005+12:00

NYC 1997. I only ever processed a couple of films from this trip. I tried to write about it but was overwhelmed by the sheer velocity of the place. I pasted some stuff in rough layout for a project that never was and then belatedly buried the rest of the film in the freezer and there it stays. I love the NYC street photographers from every era, their energy somehow channels down through the ages. Above Left is Strawberry Fields, the garden that celebrates John Lennon in Central Park opposite the Dakota Apartments where he lived and was slain. Inspired by Walker Evans and every photographer since the Brooklyn Bridge is a kind of right of passage. Everywhere one turns is another great shot and another posse of photographers.

I find myself singing out loud as walk around town, the Velvet's Sunday Morning provides a daily hum.and every so often I catch myself breaking out with a bit of Ole Blue Eyes, its that kind of town. WHile on a trip to Coney Island it's the Ramones Rockaway Beach. A bit obvious I know, but I guess I'm just an old corn-ball!

©burgseye 97

2/10/04

2010-05-26T17:57:00.004+12:00

Ah the old SX 70 Polaroid that I purloined for a mere fiver and which produced fabulous images auto-pre-aged with barely any colour but cyan readable. Haven't seen for film for it in an age. Ah those were the days!

©burgseye

a snap from a journal

2010-05-26T17:31:00.006+12:00

From one of my journal's is this note on life and death in Mexico City D.F., one of the most invigorating places on the planet. On the eve of the Dia de la Muerte celebrations, the energy claims me. After shooting the bullfight I get floored for a week with campylobacter (or twisted bacteria) from eating a chicken taco in a hole in the wall cafe. I had a two hundred pound nurse make a two hour one way trip everyday to pump penicillin in my arse, clean the bog and generally make sure I didn't Mama Cass on the regurgitated leftovers. I've been vege ever since. The shot above was used in a series in Altezano cafe in downtown Auckland. The boys there have a close association with Central America, they were raised in El Salvador by their missionary parents. While they do not condone animal cruelty they were all for asking the questions by showing the images -which for the most part were anything but gory on their walls. That is until an animal-rights/nazi who does not live in this city started an anonymous smear campaign about the cafe, staging abusive phone calls, posting pamphlets, posters and threats to theirs and their customer's property -not to mention well-being- should they continue to purchase Altezano coffee. Ha! The boys then had customers ringing to complain that if the pictures weren't removed then they would take their custom elsewhere. Talk about Political Correctness and censorship gone askew. The pics ended up coming down off the walls and the animal rights freak bailed back to his teaching job in Indo' before he was true identity was detected.

©burgseye

BALTIC Bites: Martin Parr - Parrworld (part1)

2010-05-25T15:44:00.002+12:00

I'm a hoarder and a big Martin Parr fan. Martin Parr is a big hoarder and a fan of many aesthetics. This is a great insight into his workings and rationale behind an exhibition.

Part 2 is here and 3 here

Two for Merc

2010-05-25T14:06:00.005+12:00

It was the art work of blog-bard Merc, who says, "making lines on waves, canvas, paper is the same thing," that made me take another look at the sandstone lines at the beach the other day. Crumbling rock faces corresponding to the perplexing and zen canvas' I'd seen hanging at chez Bradburn a coupla weeks prior.

©burgseye2010

Three Walls

2010-05-18T19:44:00.003+12:00

Three walls from Seville in Spain. They pretty much sum up my jetlag moodiness and disorientation which is inescapable when one does marathon flights from the South Pacific.

©burgseye 2010

NEW ZEALAND MODERN

2010-05-18T10:48:00.004+12:00

©burgseye 2010

ARTS UNIQUE SCULPTURE TRAIL MARAHAU

2010-05-11T11:04:00.007+12:00

Marahau's Art Unique sculpture trail, was conceived 16 years ago by an Australian chippie Brian Woodward better known around these parts as Woody. He once farmed down on the coast but after 20 years of that decided he wanted to get out and see the world. This is as far as he got.

Where the dual faces of Ranginui and Papatuanuku -the Maori gods of sky and earth- carved into the base of an immense tree trunk, greet trampers exiting the Abel Tasman National Park.

Woody makes his home in a '66 Bedford, which doubles as a mobile carving studio for when he's on the road to his other bus-abode high in the forested hills of the South Island West Coast.

Woody is a man of many styles, wood and stone. The cartoon like Marahau Moa are his too, a roadside attraction thaat works at getting curious tourists out of their campervans.

Maori myth and legends reference the environment and the people who have walked here for centuries before the gore-tex troops of travelers today. In the early days Woody held a carving symposium supplied the logs, the refreshments and invited artists to stay and carve on indigenous themes to honor all who went before. He then built five gypsy caravans that double as studios where artists can stay for a minimal fee and sell from their doorsteps.

In the yard he leaves a hammer and chisel beside a block of Oamaru stone and encourages people to pick up the tools and have a go. He comes by later to tidy up the rough edges and work with the shapes left him.

He's not sure how long he's gonna be there for. Local government bureaucracy and a few complaints from the newly gentrified landowners are putting financial pressures on him. He reckons He’d like to sell but says, ” I might have to walk away, probably take the sculptures with me and it will just cease to exist. It was nice while it was here." The trail is free to view but if you like what you see you can buy a little gift from the old creosote hut that serves as a gift shop (if it is open) or leave a Koha.

http://www.artsunique.co.nz

Wedding Crashers

2010-05-10T09:25:00.011+12:00

May 1st may be the anniversary of amor for Senor y Senora El Presidente but this year a couple of mates, Chris and Rebecca thought they would upstage us with their beachhead wedding and gathering in Picnic Bay, at the beautiful Mangawhai Heads.

Not to worry methinks, get a funky pad for the weekend and everything will be happy anniversary, so when I when I found the "Kiwi Bach with Panoramic Sea and Harbour View"

on Book a Bach I immediately jumped. The view above, is of the Heads with Picnic Bay right there, left hand side-mid frame.

This shot above, faces south towards Te Arai.

We open the doors and the funk of a thousand family holidays races to the portal like eager kin to welcome us. The windows and curtains fly open in an endeavour to clear the olfactory of other peoples memories. When I spotted the President bedside radio I knew we were in the right spot.

Those that know me know I have a thing for Kiwi kitsch and this place was inescapably laden with lashings of nostalgia, enough to make your old Gran blush. Maybe thats what the stale tang was: Gran is still locked up in here somewhere....

The all day sun was no bold overstatement. Even this late in the season, el sola rosa poured in, the couch bearing testament to summers with the doors wide open.

We didn't spend much time sitting around, the newly announced Mr & Mrs Alder had other plans for their guests and most of it involved shaking the tail feathers as opposed to sitting on them.

Although after a very large evening of beats and pieces, ending sometime towards dawn, I could so easily have sat around for the next week taking in the light show and swell changes off the beach. In fact next time I'll give my board a fright and take it for a spin, cos when the tide and wind comes together here it turns on one of the most accessible breaks in the country.

©burgseye2010

URBAN DEVELOPMENT AUCKLAND CBD

2010-05-10T01:35:00.015+12:00

Matt Arbuckle is part of the Urban development crew who are in the process of colouring up a particularly bleak wall of concrete down wind of Nelson Street in the shadow of a characterless apartment block with the oxymoronic name -Zest.

The real fruit lies beneath the zest on a wall adjacent to the 'Sheds' one of the last pieces of warehouse spaces left in Auckland's CBD.

Home of the Deus Ex Machina at the corner of Wellesley and Nelson Streets where the Auckland Art Gallery has pitched a temporary gallery. Matt was hanging out packing up some gear after rolling out a base coat of paint salvaged from the tip on a two story patch of cement.

My mate D.A.V.E.S intro'd himself to Matt while I was exploring the riot of clour and action about to transform that grey wall, through a window reflection.

Matt gives us a once round of the collective studio and a quick run through of some the work he is producing for an upcoming show. The energy in his work is raw with an underlying fury in the layering and brush strokes. The "Shit Hit The Fan" series explodes abstract expressionist shrapnel across a post-pop-hiphop fine art ethos. I probably don't know what I'm talking about except to say that the work and his technique of painting with a fire extinguisher, moved me.

The genius touches were in his experiments outside on the Urban Development wall, where he is adding physical layers to his bull. Building textures beyond paint onto the wall. Like the other crews creating these multistory motion studies, I get a feeling here that this accelerating society is reaching critical mass, the threat of some big bang threatening, lurking, bursting through and off the cement (well to my mind anyway.) Matt's section of the wall segueing between the likes of Askew,

Berst of the TMD crew and the wicked (in every sense of the word) Misery

somehow the wall hangs together, style upon style merging, jarring, jamming, conversing and reflecting a cacophony of frequencies, sensory motherload. It's a work in progress so if you're in the CBD and you like art with an edge and energy that moves and morphs quicker than you can say Super-City then this might be an opt place to stay tuned.

Below is the Urban Development mission statement.

Urban Development is an outdoor art project, the objective is to provide the platform for collaboration between artists across a wide range of mediums and stages in career. The project centres around street influenced mural work but will also draw in a variety of creative’s, both emerging and established. The concept is to think outside the conventional confines of graffiti, fine art, sculptural work, performance and beyond, blurring the lines and creating a dynamic and interesting project worthy of international attention.

©burgseye 2010

Message to self

2010-05-04T21:47:00.006+12:00

When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.

I default to HST's quote above when events beyond my control conspire to make it feel like the wheels may be falling off the/my trolley. Uncertainty is always a driving force, but right now there's a crossroad round every bend and the gate keepers are all wearing blue jeans. Get lateral is what it is says to me. Sometimes I get adaptation fatigue, eventually though the next door opens, light gets in and the growth begins again.

©burgseye2010

Dusk to Dawn Two Views From Titirangi

2010-04-29T08:32:00.005+12:00

From dusk to dawn: two views from the balcony of casa el Presidente, in Titirangi ("the fringe of heaven.")

Titirangi sits in the foothills of the Waitakere Ranges, above the Manukau Harbour. Here a rainbow rests over the Manukau, its end resting at Lopdell House in Titirangi Village.

On the isthmus otherwise known as Tamaki Makau Rau, the frontier city of Auckland sits blanketed in fog. Owairaka (Mount Albert) one of about 50 extinct volcanoes in the region sits in the foreground.