It can take more than 2000 rows of spreadsheet data to create Dr Sione Faletau’s kupesi (patterns).
The colourful, pulsing or dancing kupesi presented as video or projected onto surfaces are derived from audio wave spectrums of sound.
It is a long way from the painting that Faletau began concentrating on at Elam art school at Auckland University (he graduated with his Bachelor of Fine Arts in 2013, which was followed by a masters degree in 2015 and then his doctorate (2022) after being awarded a Prime Minister’s Youth Award) having grown up as a creative child who loved experimenting with things and was particularly interested in music and architecture.
‘‘I went in as a painter and then left as a digital artist. It allowed us to just do anything and everything really. But it all kind of became much more solidified during Covid.’’
‘‘I grew up playing drums. My family’s quite musical. So I was kind of around it all the time. I guess that shaped how I kind of viewed sound in a way.’’
During the pandemic when Auckland University shut its doors, students were given computers to use at home.
‘‘I just started experimenting and playing with things. My general art practice has always been kind of performance, performance, painting.’’
He started looking into sound and from there it has gradually developed into a digital-based practice.
‘‘It’s become more of a focus for me since then.’’
It also provided another avenue for Faletau to explore and do a ‘‘deep dive’’ into his Tongan heritage.
While he was born in New Zealand, his parents are from the Tongan villages of Taunga and Lakepa, so he identifies as Tongan.
‘‘Those things definitely do come up in the work. And just viewing things from a Tongan perspective, and so that element of sound, or if you translate that word into Tongan, it means ongo, and ongo has a duality or multiple meanings, which means sound, feeling, presence, hearing, all those kind of sensory kind of things.’’
Receiving the Te Pūnaha o Matatini (New Zealand Centre of Research Excellence (CoRE) for complex systems) artist residency gave Faletau the opportunity to reconnect with an interest in science he had as a school student.
‘‘I was also very interested in physics back in high school. And sometimes in my art practice, I do look at those kind of science realms as well, and figuring out properties of different materials and stuff like that. So I guess the science part did intrigue me.’’
He took the data her team had collected from around New Zealand’s domestic gardens and translated the data sets into sound.
‘‘It took like over 2000 rows of Excel spreadsheet data and then translated that into a soundscape. And then I created these patterns that tells the stories about the contamination in the soil.’’
Faletau then fed the audio made from the data through a Tongan fangufangu (nose flute) usually made of kofe (bamboo).
He coded the data sets so arsenic was the key of A minor and lead was D minor. Minor tonalities carried the weight and seriousness of contamination. Shifts in rhythm, texture, and intensity are driven directly by metal concentrations.
‘‘It kind of became this kind of symphony that both these two data sets play together.’’
It resulted in Ongo mei he fonua: Sounds from the Soil and added another layer to his art practice.
‘‘By utilising data or bridging the science world and the art world together.’’
The movement created in his kupesi works are the result of the frequencies he has extracted from the recorded piece.
‘‘So those are the highs, the medium, and the low frequencies. And then I manipulate those into becoming kupesi or patterns.’’
In the Tongan context kupesi are angular arrangements.
‘‘It’s quite geometrical.’’
So Faletau creates an algorithm for the frequencies to interact within a certain angular arrangement.
‘‘Some of the kupesis or patterns involve the degrees of 45. And some of our really traditional patterns of the Manulua involves a configuration of all 45-degree triangles.
‘‘So it’s these clues that I can see into what my ancestors had made through weaving, and just figuring out these angles and then coding that into a digital sense and creating an algorithm in which the frequencies interact with each other.’’
He describes coding the frequencies to interact within 45 degrees results in a kind of ‘‘controlled chaos’’ creating a parameter for the frequencies ‘‘to interact and then just letting them move about’’.
‘‘So when I create these kupesi or patterns, they will revolve at those degrees that I coded it. And then at every second there’s a new pattern that comes all the time. So it’s an infinite kind of form that happens within the work.’’
‘‘It’s quite a multidisciplinary interpretation. So I’ve done projections on mirrors and also canvases and also different sculptural forms. So things that sit on the wall or out in the space, suspended and things like that.’’
His earlier digital work during the pandemic specifically responded to the environment as he recorded the sounds around him and generated work from that.
‘‘You know how the whole world was at a standstill and then you could hear nature in a very loud way. Everything was so silent during that period.
‘‘The whole world was healing itself as well. So you could kind of hear everything, which was an interesting time. I think that was quite a pivotal moment in my art practice and transitioning to the sound aspect.’’
One of his earliest works was created from recording the sound of making Coco Pops for breakfast for his daughter.
Another work which was exhibited at the Dunedin Public Art Gallery’s rear window was a response to Hone Tuwhare’s poem Toroa: Albatross (1987).
Along the way Faletau has been working as a curator for Auckland council across many of its galleries but has recently been appointed as a lecturer at Elam.
‘‘It built up my skills in the curatorial space so I have a feel for the artistic landscape but I would say it’s been a full-circle moment coming back as a lecturer, it does feel kind of weird.’’
During his visit to Dunedin for Nano Fest he will be presenting the work he did with Dr Sharp and also holding some community workshops where people will be encouraged to bring along their own soundscapes or audio to be translated into patterns.
‘‘It will just be like a highly experimental thing. People can have a play, and I guess maybe they could appreciate sound a bit more or have a newfound way of viewing the world through sound.’’
He believes scientists are artists just like artists are scientists as well.
‘‘They’ve got to figure out their materials and things like that. So I feel like it’s quite a good synergy between artists and scientists.’’
Sione Faletau's Kupesi Sisi Huelo ‘oe Taulanga Waitemata moe Funga Tāmaki Makaurau adorns The Lightship, harbour, and Auckland city emitting its light onto the water and into the environment.
To see:
Ongo Mei he Fonua: Sounds from the Land, July 15-19, 10am-3.30pm, Festival Hub Wall St Mall; Art and Science Panel, July 15, 5.30-7.30pm, Te Whare o Rukutia.
