James Dignan looks at the latest exhibitions in Dunedin.
Rachel Hirabayashi's exhibition at the Moray Gallery is formed from two contrasting but complementary halves.
Moody, rhythmic acrylic landforms dot the walls, between which sit whimsical constructions in iron and tin.
The metal pieces are the more instantly eye-catching.
Four wall hangings in the form of wreaths and a flowery cross are presented, along with six standing structures, their metal flowers seesawing above foliage pendulums.
These kinetic works are enjoyable abstractions of the botanical form, and the metal wall hangings are charming in their seeming delicacy, a delicacy belied by the sturdiness of the materials from which they have been created.
On deeper reflection, however, it is the paintings which win out.
Though not as instantly appealing, the almost hypnotic rhythms of the landforms depicted have a strong resonance.
In their form, they are akin to diagrammatical studies from a geology textbook, and they have indeed been inspired by geomorphology - the changing of the earth through geological activity.
The rich browns weigh heavily on the canvas, and the manner in which paint has been allowed to run down the forms adds to this impression of the heaviness of the tectonic structures depicted, especially in works such as Orogenic belt no. 1.

Two disparate exhibitions by Heather Straka and Hannah Riley are currently showing at the Blue Oyster.
Riley's exhibition is wide-ranging, with photographs, video, and found objects.
All items speak of transformation and decay, some more effectively than others.
Several of the works are provocative, notably a frieze of mummified rabbits and a reworking of Man Ray's photograph La Priere (Prayer), but it is the more gentle works, notably a series of photographic studies of seed pods, which are most effective.
Heather Straka's display is more focused, and is a full reversal of her normal work.
Whereas previously Straka has been known for precisionist photograph-like paintings, here she has re-imagined the elements of classic paintings using the tools of glossy high-fashion photography.
Her mysterious tableaux reference Rembrandt, Ribera and de Keyser.
The medical scenes, with their pale European patient and gaggle of gossiping Asiatic nurses, make satirical comment on personal and national identity.
The works are unnerving in the mixed messages they deliver.
The transgressive smoking nurses are depicted as if they are the height of glamour, yet the hospital backdrop is one of decay.
The suffering patient is a glowing porcelain-like symbol of frailty, yet seems almost an afterthought to these carefree, careless caregivers.
Patrick Hartigan divides his life between Australia and his central European home in Slovakia.
It is from the latter that his wife's ancestry comes, and it is to this place that he returns regularly and draws inspiration for his art.
In his latest exhibition, Hartigan presents a series of painted snapshots, gently-toned watercolour images of gently-toned life in a Slovakian village.
Some scenes depict empty houses, built for young families who have left to start new lives in more prosperous parts of Europe.
Others show fleeting details, evocative of entire scenes and telling their own individual stories.
Above all, the works are imbued with a sense of place, of being part of the historic tapestry of the village.
Simple images like Boy and umbrella, delicately composed to allow large areas of white space to have maximum emotional weight, seem like individual frames from some all-encompassing narrative.
This feeling is enhanced by the inclusion within the exhibition of a video displaying simple scenes of village life.
Its presence seems to suggest that the drawn and painted images form a second film, waiting to tell its story if only the frames could be gathered together and played in the right order.