Art seen

The Tasaday tribe are an indigenous people of the Philippine island of Mindanao. They were apparently living in isolation at a "Stone Age" level until 1971 when Western scientists claim to have "discovered" them. Controversy arose in 1986 when the possible discovery was dubbed a hoax, and the facts are still shrouded by ambiguity - cue Clemens von Wedemeyer.

This proficient, award-winning German artist investigates fact and fantasy in documentary film-making, treating the Tasaday case as paradigmatic. By mixing archival imagery of the Tasaday with his own creative work he examines the validity of, and the authority inherent within, the notion of "discovering" and characterising a people. One step removed from the vindicable sphere of science, Wedemeyer emphasizes society's use of the mask (both literally and metaphorically) while probing our incessant quests for observation, preservation and representation. He stresses our voyeuristic delight in scrutinising cultural "others", while revealing how filmic processes are partial constructions - and yet he leaves considerable space for the viewer alone to suppose and conclude the consequences.

Wedemeyer effectively and critically exposes the fetishisation of culture and the ritualistic ways that images are composed and used. This is an educational exhibition which not only necessitates but deserves much more than a fleeting look.

<i>Jessice</i>, by Ngaere Moss.

The Otago Art Society (OAS) was established in 1876 by "a small group of gentlemen" and has since become a thriving guild of artists and connoisseurs.

Every year the OAS holds an exhibition to celebrate, promote, and reward local talent and in this 136th year there are, yet again, plenty of remarkable creations.

The works on display are largely, but not exclusively, figurative paintings and, while these canvases are boldly punctuated by drawings, prints, ceramic works, and jewellery, the exhibition principally emanates traditionalism with a twist of mainland nostalgia. The expected iconography makes its appearance: native flora and fauna alongside farmlands, villas, sheds and portraits of loved ones - although contemporary, sometimes abstract pieces do sporadically intercept to stir one's perceptions. This is not to detract from the value of the representational pieces but it is to suggest that the foremost aim of this particular exhibition is to be thoughtfully reflective rather than confrontational, revelatory, or aggressive.

This extensive exhibition provides a charming escape for its audience while emphasising the importance of identity and place in the creative mind. The range of styles is captivating and although conventionality may well be a suitable noun for the collection's character, skilfulness, personality, acuity and tenderness cannot be neglected as alternatives.

It is near impossible to stand unmoved by A Gallery's current exhibition. Perth-based artist Justin Spiers is a photographer with the capacity to translate intellectual conceptions into visual metaphors with rare fluency.

The subject-matter of his collection is animals in captivity and the discussion is the space between the viewer and the viewed. The photographs are in both grey-scale and colour, and the compositions are succinct and textural: the panda is soft, the crocodile is scaly, and the concrete is disturbingly cold. Exotic animals and the enclosures they occupy are viewed up close through tarnished glass and desolate caging, drawing attention to the paltry surfaces that convert spirited creatures into vulnerable objects.

Spiers uses the camera to expose the screens we build to cushion our objectification and brutal oppression of the natural world. By way of accentuating the structures through which we unwittingly look, he underlines the frequently unnoticed artifice of photography and the staggeringly asymmetrical division of power which accompanies it. His poetic works may be delicate and sensitive in presentation but the sentiment exposed is more commanding than a tank in a field of dandelions. This artist's visual vocabulary is an indication of his insight and A Gallery's formatting neatly buttresses its expression.

- Written by Franky Strachan.