Art Seen: November 03

In this week's Art Seen, James Dignan looks at works by Moana Tipa, Emily Jackson, and an exhibition from Blue Oyster Gallery.

Untitled, by Moana Tipa.

‘‘Wanaka — Learning in the Dark’’, Moana Tipa and Maratia Te Kahika (School of Art Gallery)

At the School of Art's gallery, Moana Tipa presents two mixed media series in charcoal wash and oil stick, accompanied by waiata from Maratia Te Kahika.

The works explore the legal and spiritual custodianship of land. With one series, this land is rendered as dark foreboding shadows against a plain canvas sky. It has a strong physical presence, yet is rendered in the most minimal of terms.

The dark earth becomes a metaphor for the days of winter in which the traditional ''learning in the dark'' takes place. In one particularly effective trio of pieces, dark land recedes beneath a distant horizon line, as if we are rising above the world and looking back.

The second series of works adds words, both in the form of exhortations against injustice and as a timeline displaying significant points in the history of land legislation.

The timeline is bright red, the only colour in the otherwise monochrome work, and is presented alongside topographical washes of grey. The use of red, white, and black, so common in Maori political art, is no coincidence.

The visual display is accompanied by Te Kahika's a capella voice, the words of the song becoming both a lament and an uplifting anthem of strength and hope.

Aspects o Dunedin III, by Emily Jackson.

‘‘Otago Landscapes’’, Emily Jackson (Inge Doesburg Gallery)

Land is also a vital feature of the works of Emily Jackson. The artist, who died in 1993, is the subject of both an exhibition at Inge Doesburg Gallery and a new book, edited by daughter Bronwen Nicholson.

Although based predominantly in Auckland, Jackson had a fierce love for New Zealand's regions, travelling to many parts of the country to soak in the atmosphere of place.

She particularly loved the light and land around Dunedin, visiting the city in the 1970s and producing works that were among her favourites.

Jackson's landscapes are strong, with bold gestural lines and fluid brushwork implying the forms of the land rather than spelling it out to the audience.

The works show a clear debt to those of Toss Woollaston, and indeed Jackson was mentored by both Woollaston and Colin McCahon as a young artist.

In some pieces, a few blocks of colour and broad lines become mere symbols of location, the viewer having to read the land from the artist's road map.

What the works lack in precision of form, they more than make up for in emotional intensity. There is a sense of being in a place with these paintings - be they shimmers of lakeside mountains under a kingfisher-blue sky, or the salt-sprayed greys of winter in Dunedin.

Vala au mai si ou Tina (detail), by Valasi Leota-Seiuli.

‘‘Social Matter’’ (Blue Oyster Gallery)

In ''Social Matter'', four artists and an art collective explore the nature of social media and collaborative art. In particular, several of the artists involved in the exhibition are examining the change in the meaning of the term ''social'' within the context of Pacific Island communities, where group participation and extended social gatherings are often the norm.

Sione Monu has used Instagram as a leaping off point, examining how our lives are now vicariously rated in terms of ''likes''. The artist utilises the solitary prop of a blanket imitating traditional costume in his provocative selfies.

Janet Lilo extends the idea of the selfie as art with a collection of 100 ''dog-faced'' self-portraits produced using a costume-attaching filter which half-mask these otherwise public portraits.

Lana Lopesi's posters, which spell out the meaning of social practice in art as a virtual power point slideshow, pinpoint a more utilitarian and postmodern approach to the subject.

Perhaps the show's highlight is Valasi Leota-Seiuli's series of plaster casts of picture frames displaying distressed images of suburban

New Zealand houses at the time of the infamous dawn raids, each accompanied by a flower necklace. The works are a poignant reminder of loss, both of status within a new land, and of the support of the old island communities.