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arts, culture, and lifestyle of dunedin and otago, in the south island, new zealand issue thirteen, june 2018


n w o



barbara else ian chapman stephen davies


sophie morris & the ten tenors

landfall & the otago art society david green

pam mckinlay

ian thomson

francisca griffin

Photograph ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018


In T h i s Is s u e A Conversation with Penelope Todd Page 12

The Many Moods of Otago - Photo Essay Ian Thomson Page 90

Sophie Morris

Otago Roads

& The Ten Tenors Page 24

Stephen Davies Page 106

Ian Chapman

Through the Lens of Time

The Revelation of Alice Cooper Page 34

David Green Page 116


Ms Daisy Drives Herself

& The Otago Art Society Page 52

Pam McKinlay Page 140

Barbara Else

Gifts in the Garden: Rose Geranium

Francisca Griffin Page 158 Front Cover and opposite page - Aramoana Boardwalk and Saltmarsh, Dunedin - Caroline Davies Š 2018

www.downinedinmagazine.com All works, stories, articles, photographs cannot be reproduced without permission of authors, artists, photographers. Please contact the Editor at Down In Edin Magazine for any queries. Copyright Down In Edin Magazine Š 2018 All rights reserved. 3

Photograph ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018


Contributors Penelope Todd Stephen Davies Wayne Rees David Green Pam McKinlay Francisca Griffin Danny Buchanan

Editor Caroline Davies

And much appreciation to Dunedin City Council for their support!

Additional thanks to: Dunedin UNESCO City of Literature, and Paddy Richardson

www.downinedinmagazine.com FaceBook page


FaceBook ~ Down In Edin Magazine

downinedin@yahoo.co.nz 5

Photograph ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018


A note from the editor K i a o r a , w e l c o m e t o Is s u e T h i r t e e n

Talking of light and shadow, which also happen to be the quintessential elements of understanding classic photography, I was entranced by David Green’s collection of Kodachrome images he has taken since his arrival in New Zealand in 1961. I appreciate his vast visual anthology for not only the historic documentation of days long gone, but back then, it took a lot more effort and technical understanding of film and camera to capture a good shot than it does for most people today. In the hay-days of film, although there was a half stop or so wiggle room with reversal film, there was no real latitude (or forgiveness) for error with exposure when shooting with chrome. You hit the mark right on for a well exposed and fine image, or you didn’t. Professional photographers would often bracket their exposures, usually in threes, generally with a 1/3 (there’s that number again) stop difference between each shot, to ensure they nailed the correct exposure, or alternatively, make a mask, and between the three images, create a beautifully balanced print with the dynamic range revealing details in the shadow and highlight areas. Chrome was well known for its contrast issues advantageous at times and at others, a challenge. Here David has done an excellent job of documentation, storing, and cataloguing his images, and so we are really excited to share some of this historic collection.

Throughout the ages, the number thirteen has been held with superstition. In some cultures it is revered as a sacred number and in others as one to fear. In my own studies of metaphysics, thirteen is generally seen as a number representing transformation - and - because of this - perhaps one can understand why some embrace the idea of change and some fear the idea, or the resonance of this number. If I’m going to think symbolically, then I prefer to see this as a potential for positive metamorphosis - so welcome to the thirteenth floor of Down in Edin Magazine, the landing in between twelve and fourteen - from one state to the other and where nothing is as it seems. Really, that’s quite in line with our feature story with Ian Chapman and The Revelation of Alice Cooper, (I was the one who had revelations, hence the title) where the sub context addresses the same idea of nothing is as it seems all the time. Played out through archetypal characters, Alice Cooper portrays a wicked, confrontational and scary character - his shows are a nightmare - theatrical, stage bloody and gory, and yet, underneath the facade that has stirred fear and controversy over the decades, is a man with a big heart, sense of humour, and generous. It’s just that he questions the status quo of conventional society and although he takes on a dark and shadowy character externally, he contains a lot of light on the inside. So, a lesson here is, don’t judge a book by only its cover...

Enjoy this issue and thanks for taking the time to read and share with friends! Caroline Davies Editor


Spoonbill 8

Photograph ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018

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Photograph ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018

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Photograph ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018


t h e

s e l f

d e t e r m i n a t i o n

o f

Barbara Els e a conversation with

Penelope Todd

Photograph ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018


When I meet with Barbara Else in Dunedin where she’s lived for the last two years (also back in the day, when she earned her MA at Otago University) she’s in a pause between projects. No, not exactly a pause. She’s caught up in the whirl following the release of Go, Girl, a collection of true stories about New Zealand women who have done extraordinary things. She wrote the 48 stories in a cool fever of determination to a serious deadline: two stories a day. And it’s having a hearty reception, this much-needed book for girls (and boys, let’s trust they also can’t resist picking it up) in Aotearoa, each zesty life vividly summarised by Barbara, with fabulous portraits (not photos) by various artists. 

Barbara was the perfect fit for that job because she’s always kept a watch out for girls, and women, and boys, doing her bit to correct gender imbalances and to encourage entitlement and sharing where each is called for. She’s shown over her writing life the capacity to work hard and produce witty, insightful books, threaded with humour, both bright and dark, books that clamour to be read, from fiction – modern and historical, short and long – for adults and children, to full-length plays and radio dramas.

Her work has been recognised with awards and shortlistings, fellowships, medals and honours, of which you can read more at the end of our conversation.


It was, in part, her anger at gender imbalance that ended her first marriage. Which led in turn to her writing The Warrior Queen ‘quartet’ a few years later. And in writing those contemporary novels she found authentic expression, or, we might say, her own voice. The novels (The Warrior Queen, Gingerbread Husbands, Eating Peacocks, Three Pretty Widows) cover delicious revenge, domestic life and parenting with an absent husband, self-reclamation and the road back to lively self-determination. She’s produced historical fiction (Wild Latitudes), and several edited collections including eminent writers’ experience of grandparenthood (Grand Stands), a black-comedic thriller, The Case of the Missing Kitchen, and in the last decade the brilliant Tales of Fontania series for young people.

digital era and the tantalising choices young people face? I worry that young people – in particular young trainee educators – don’t seem to understand the need for ‘deep story’ – the kind of engagement that’s only possible between you-the-reader and the printed page. Or when you hear a story and let your own mind supply the pictures. TV, film and reading onscreen don’t stimulate the same centres in the brain. I wish I understood more about this! But we intuit it. There’s wonder and a kind of porousness in the child reading or being read to. The child on a screen seems relatively impervious! Reading must have been a rich part of your own early life.

If this conversation seems to start from thin air, that’s not quite true. It’s just that I tried to record our conversation and … lost it. This has happened before, which means there is a lesson to be learned, however, Barbara has been a good sport, and we’re picking up where memory allows…

Both my parents were readers and I grew up in a house with crammed bookcases. My mother had been a primary school teacher and was very good at encouraging small children. As I grew older she’d put classic novels in front of me and leave me to it. She took me to many good theatre productions, too – another way of appreciating and absorbing stories.

I pause at the word ‘tales’ because, Barbara, you speak readily about the importance of stories and myths, the network of tales that contain and elucidate cultures and psyches. I know you promulgate reading for/with/to the young whenever you can. Now in a way it’s self-evident that we need stories to give sense and coherence to life, but can you say a little more about that vis-à-vis the

You’ve talked about the playfulness released by writing for young persons. How conscious are you of those you’re writing for when you’re in creative inner-space? 14

Writing for kids, you have to put yourself back in the space of being a child – writing for the child you were, but staying aware of what kids these days need and like.

However, having completed the new, edgier junior novel we’ll discuss below, you anticipate a shift back to adult fiction. We talked about Marina Warner as someone whose work you return to again and again between projects, to get into a certain space, to be open for ideas, to walk on what is for you fertile terrain until you find the tiny budding plant or critter you next want to attend to. In the prologue to her book Signs and Wonders which I picked up  – reminded by you of the marvelously proliferous (I did look up this word, and it’s a biological term, but I think it works here) terrain of her writing she quotes Nabokov: 'Curiosity is the purest form of insubordination.’  Might you comment?

I think with both readerships (kids and adults), I find I’m having fun being subversive about adults. The themes in the four Tales of Fontania novels are probably more general than in the adult fiction, and pick up on the sort of things that children notice. Fairness. Kindness. And the boy characters find they succeed because they use their wit and empathy, helping others. The best villains have come straight from real life: such bad behaviour absolutely pleads to be put into a novel, then of course it is moulded by the needs of the story.

If it’s insubordinate for a female to ask questions to try and make sense of things, because it’s insubordinate to question openly – then yes. Gosh, when you ask that question I seem to be finding that the anger might not be written out of me! This is interesting. I wonder if we (writers, or anyone) revisit the same material once we’re further along in life and can see it all in a slightly different way. What do you think?

While immersed in the Fontania series, you wrote a blog over several years, for young readers and young-atheart. I love its playful, sparkling tone.

Like it or not, I reckon we circle the same themes. We can hope that our view grows a little wider and higher (climbing a hill now, it seems) with each turn of the spiral. Do you notice this in your books? I have noticed it in the work for children. The novel I’ve just finished looks more deeply into a 15

narrower set of behaviours. And somehow sets me up to move back to writing for adults.

It was so hard! I had almost finished a first draft – 40,000 words – then realised I had the wrong protagonist. It meant an almost total rewrite. That was when I applied for the Residency. But it was still very hard to find a shape for the novel, and I realise now that I kept pulling away from that important subterranean level that ‘even a kid’s story’ must have. It’s dark material.

I read Marina Warner and her ilk between writing projects, first, because the creative jug is empty and I’m waiting for it to fill up again. It also exercises the more intellectual side of my mind. MW reminds me how we need story to help make sense of things – deep things. My go-to books are From The Beast to the Blonde and No-Go the Bogeyman.

Then I was asked to write Go Girl, and set the novel aside. In Go, Girl I had to address some challenging real-life stories and situations. Once that was done, I found I could write the darker, more important layers of the children’s novel.

And I read other writers about fairy-tale and myth, such as Maria Tartar. These are the kinds of story I’ve always been most interested in and they’re deceptively simple.

In a recent interview in The Sapling you say ‘it forced me to go deeper and darker than ever before. That has been enlightening – I can do that and still keep in the writing the sense of hope … necessary in junior and intermediate fiction.’ Does this mean going into subject matter that makes you uncomfortable?

Do you approach this reading with the inkling of another book already making its little toe tracks in your mind? Yes, yes, the tiny marks like cryptic bird-feet script in the sand. Wondering what kind of creature will reveal itself. And cryptic script is on my mind because that’s important in the next children’s novel. It begins in ancient Sumeria.

I realised I’d been reluctant to put too much heartbreak in front of children. But life is full of it. So you fail children if you don’t address it somehow. The challenge is to be clear-eyed about it and still give them hope, especially for their own abilities and the future.

The one you wrote in 2016 while you were the University of Otago College of Education/Creative New Zealand Children’s Writer in Residence. You found you’d written a very challenging story, complex and needing to be completely reworked.

That sounds like a very different process from the writing of the Fontania series. 16

Photograph ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018


Indeed. The first of that series was one of those rare books that almost write themselves. The others bounced joyfully along behind.

self, I had to be very stubborn, and just kept going, with not much evidence that I’d ever ‘make a go’ of writing. I had short stories published, and plays published and performed. And I wrote two unpublishable novels – and thank goodness they remained unpublished.

Delighting readers and publisher alike! Can you say a little about this, your forthcoming publication? It will come out in the first half of 2019, I think. The title is Harsu and the Were-stoat. There is a lot of cake in it. But it is not the kind of cake you want on your own table. I’m about to begin editing with one of NZ’s top editors and I can’t wait. The story moves from ancient Sumeria and ends in contemporary New Zealand.

With Chris you have a more encouraging time of it, in that you work from the same premise, since you’re both writers and know how the day will go: each entering your own space without interference from the other … with time later in the day for discussing your work and sharing the domestic roles? And we both assess manuscripts and do developmental editing – which we both love. We discuss that a lot too. It’s ever-interesting.

Cake and ancient Sumeria. How utterly intriguing. And talking of challenges, let’s leap back to the early years. You said that writing was harder in a way when living with your first husband, because you inhabited such different worlds, and he didn’t understand your creative imperatives – which means that a woman tends to put those second-third-never behind the needs or wishes of the man/children/social demands.

Chris has pushed me further with my writing than I’d ever have achieved by myself. He does that with anyone, I think. I love being at the stage with a novel where I can get his input, become objective about what I’ve done so far, then plunge back into it.

It got to a stage where he openly disapproved of what I was writing, in particular a play for teenagers. He felt it reflected badly on him, which took me aback.

If you were forbidden from writing in this lifetime, but could have been bestowed with any other creative talent (or probably you already have been and you haven’t told us about it), what would that be?

So in order to justify and carve out a niche for my-

Acting! 18

Someone read my palm once and told me I could have been a great actress (yes, it was the olden nonPC days and she didn’t say ‘actor ’) but I would have had an astonishingly messy love life. So it’s just as well I became a writer, isn’t it! (Roars with laughter.) Do you see yourself as belonging to any particular lineage of writers; or who are your kindred spirits as authors, in whose work you unfailingly revel, or feel at home? American women writers – Anna Quindlan, Anna Hoffman, Anne Tyler. I’m reading Canadian Elizabeth Hay at the moment – marvellous characters and landscape. I do think it’s American rather than UK women writers who speak to me more directly. I wonder why? Anything to do with the fact that you lived in the US for a while? Living in California for three years and travelling in the US certainly put me more in tune with that vast country. I couldn’t get a work visa because my then husband was on a student visa, doing research. I decided the best way to use my time was to enjoy my daughters and write.

Go Girl on Facebook

When we returned to NZ, Fiona Kidman had begun publishing. That felt important since it 19

meant that women’s writing in NZ was beginning to gain traction. I was lucky to find myself more-orless surrounded by like-minded writers.

Honestly, Pen, the swearing when I’m baking … But too much being the hermit in order to write dulls the writing. I’ve got better at finding a balance, I think, and more confident about social things (some of the time!).

That sounds like a kind of double home-coming. Speaking of which, you have the most delightful, jewellike garden behind your new home in Dunedin. How do gardening and writing interplay?

Well, you work on the balance, Barbara, and we’ll enjoy the outcome: books that are cunning and full of joie de vivre and which give us back to ourselves. (And once in a while coffee and a piece of cake).

It’s important to both of us to be surrounded by beautiful things. The house is eclectic – old stuff, bright stuff, not at all minimalist. In the garden, Chris is the designer, the creator, and I’ve learned not to fuss when he comes up with a new idea! The rare times it doesn’t work, it just gets redone in another way. We love figuring it out, seeing how well it pleases the eye. It’s good for the soul to get your hands in the dirt. And very good for the brain. Yes, there is an important balance there between the garden and the writing. We keep calling this garden ‘first draft’!

Besides achievements touched on above, Barbara Else was awarded the Margaret Mahy Medal in 2016 in recognition of her services to children's literature, made a Member of the New Zealand Order of Merit for services to literature in 2005. She received a Creative NZ Scholarship in Letters, which helped her to complete Wild Latitudes in 2007, and was the Victoria University Writer’s Fellow in 1999. She has edited several collections of writing for children, and has also worked as a literary agent, editor and fiction consultant with her husband Chris Else. Read more here.

I see you as socially gracious and capacious, and yet writing calls for/on a very different state of being. How does the interchange work for you?

Penelope Todd is a Dunedin author, editor and publisher at Rosa Mira Books

That is a lovely thing to say! I love seeing people and having them come here but you’re right, being social calls for a very different state of being. I’m often a bit diffident about asking people over, and can become very flustered with preparations.


Opposite Page: Barbara Else ~


Photograph Caroline Davies


Cliff Fell Once between small shop fronts such as you might find

Once when I was living in Florence cycling home in the early hours

in cities like Herat or the Byculla backstreets of Bombay – Mumbai as we now say. I had to dismount to

I heard an owl high in a campanile and took a wrong turn down a wooden ramp,

push the bike and it seemed I must have been heading somewhere beneath the Uffizzi

an excavation in the Piazza Signoria –

for I had come to the waterside, though still

and found I was in the city beneath the city cycling between small ancient houses,

on a stratum below the world – I could hear cars moving above me on the via Lungarno,

through alleys vaulted by the world of light and the paving stones I knew. They say we go

the swish of their tyres on the rainy street, close to the corner of the Pontevecchio

into the ground to know where Death

where Dante once waited, alone and forlorn,

will take us, but I had entered this other world in lively wonder – for I was in love with poetry

hoping to catch a glimpse of Beatrice, as the pall-bearers carried her to the tomb.

and the spectral light it casts over the past and present and perhaps even the future,

Nothing ever happens twice, and yet as I stood in the must and dank of that excavation,

though it is hard to say for sure what light

in what must have once been the Etruscan city,

poems will cast over the time that is to come or even that they will survive. I only knew and cared

I felt those old stones tense up, as though they could sense the poet in the shadows, waiting for the cortege

that I was alive in the catacombs and tumble of a lost city, and that what I thought an alley

to pass him once more, and again and again and again.

was really a thoroughfare leading to the river the unexpected greenness of trees page 39


My favourite (poems), 2011 judge Bernadette Hall wrote, ‘are fresh and surprising. They’re well built, there’s air and imaginative energy in their making. The world looks replenished through their windows.’ Six years of the Caselberg International Poetry Prize in the first Caselberg Press imprint, a limited edition anthology, “the unexpected greenness of trees”.

To purchase a copy, contact: info@caselbergtrust.org Caselberg Trust


Australia’s The Ten Tenors have delighted, charmed and entertained over 90 million people world-wide, with sold outconcerts across the globe, and sixteen records under their belts, six of them platinum and gold. This finely tuned band of ten have performed alongside the likes of Andrea Bocelli, André Rieu, Rod Stewart, Alanis Morissette, Sarah Brightman, Willie Nelson, Christina Aguilera … And now, Dunedin’s Sophie Morris, the sweetest of sopranos, is the first woman in The Ten Tenors’ history to tour with the ensemble, having just completed their concert schedule throughout New Zealand.


Sophie Morris and The Ten Te n or s on to u r in new z e a l and

Story -

Caroline Davies

Photograph ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018


Photograph provided

The Ten Tenors Each tenor is highly accomplished in his own right. Multiply that by ten, the harmonies are out of this world.


The triumphant ten, plus one shining soprano, have just

Sophie, that was a really great idea of theirs, to invite you to perform on the tour. How did that come about? Since you’re the first woman in the ensemble’s history to tour with them, it has to feel pretty special.

completed the New Zealand leg of the ensemble’s’ “Wish You Were Here” 2018 world tour.

The tour celebrates

their 2017 record release of the same title, the album a tribute to illustrious artists who have passed on: Prince,

Yes! The Ten Tenors had toured New Zealand four times already, and the show’s producers and promoters wanted to add something uniquely Kiwi to it. It feels incredibly special to have been invited, and I’m grateful every single day for this opportunity.

David Bowie, John Lennon, Amy Winehouse, Leonard Cohen, Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, Roy Orbison, Jon English, Michael Hutchence (INXS), and Freddy Mercury (Queen).

You need a lot of stamina as a performer to tour so many cities in such a short time, and to keep your strength, focus and vocal chords in good shape. You pretty much jumped right in. It wasn’t like you had weeks of rehearsals with the famous ten. How did you prepare, musically and mentally?

Sophie was a stand-out performer long before she graduated from the University of Otago’s performance programme. More recently this rising star performed lead roles in Grease, Mamma Mia, and Coca-Cola Christmas in the Park in Auckland.

She has performed the national

anthem at major sporting events like the Rugby League The Ten Tenors are all highly skilled musically and are used to picking up new scores very quickly. I had been sent the music (arranged by Steven Baker) and learnt it at home. We met two days before the show opened and had a quick rehearsal while being filmed for a Newshub interview.

Four Nations, and she sang Graeme Downes’s orchestrated version of the Verlaines’ “Dirge” at the 2017 Silver Scroll Awards with Metitilani Alo and members of the Dunedin Symphony Orchestra. Although she trained in opera with renowned teachers Patricia Payne, Frances Wilson and Isabel Cunningham, Sophie has a penchant for theatre of all kinds. Her heart lies with a variety of opera, musicals,

Our first official rehearsal was also our soundcheck for the first show. I knew the Tenors would have it perfected – I just had to make sure I had myself sorted!

drama and comedy. Being a guest artist with The Ten Tenors as they toured New Zealand was an amazing milestone in this talented young woman’s career. 27

What did you love about the tour experience and what were some of the highlights? I loved the opportunity to do my first official New Zealand tour with The Ten Tenors. We performed at some amazing venues to very lovely audiences all over the country. I loved being on the road (something I'd never quite done before) and I loved making new friends. The tenors are all very friendly and fun, as are the crew, so we made some pretty special memories and it was really nice to have done it here in beautiful Aotearoa! What were the hardest, most challenging aspects of the tour? I was concerned about staying well, but did fine for the most part, other than a cold for a few days. I was careful to get enough sleep and brought a pretty comprehensive supply of vitamins with me! Fresh food was hard at times, although we ate at some amazing places, e.g. Depot (Auckland), Federal Store (New Plymouth), Nourished Eatery (Tauranga), and I’d always stock up on fruit and veggies in each town we visited. It was a nice surprise when our accommodation had a kitchen – you do find yourself longing for a home-cooked meal!

Sophie Morris and The Ten Tenors on tour On the bus traveling from the Bruce Mason Centre in Takapuna after our show back to Auckland Central

Right: On the Bus: L to R - Sophie Morris, Jared Newall, Michael Edwards, Florian Voss, Paul Gelsumini, Trent Bryson-Dean (drummer), Keane Fletcher, Nigel Huckle, Adrian Li Donni, Thomas Lindner (guitarist), Benjamin Kiehne (pianist) (photos supplied)


Photo supplied

Sophie and The Ten Tenors -Timaru - Theatre Royal 7 June 2018 Left to right: Paul Gelsumini, Michael Edwards, Florian Voss, Keane Fletcher, Sophie Morris, Jared Newall, Adrian Li Donni, James Watkinson, Cameron Barclay, JD Smith, Nigel Huckle 29

The ”Wish You Were Here” concert, Dunedin Town Hall, 9th June. T h e Te n Te n o r s a r e p h e n o m e n a l. D y n a m ic, energetic, gracious, generous and often very funny. Sophie M o r r i s w a s t h e p e r fe ct co m p li m e nt i n e v e r y w a y possible in this outstanding s h o w. A m e lt yo u r h e ar t performance with Sophie and The Ten Tenors in "Pokarekare A n a " a n d o n s o l o, h e r b r e at hta k i n g l y b e a ut if u l, perfect "Love Never Dies". Her voice so clear and smooth. Every so often you watch a young performer develop from their early years and you wait for that moment when they take ce nt re sta g e, w h e re everything around them aligns with their talent. It was like that watching and listening to Sophie. The venue, the show, the sound, the lighting, and T h e Te n Te n o r s! A w e s o m e production - fantastic band, and faultless sound and light to do everyone justice. Just fabulous!! Go Sophie!!! Photograph ~ Caroline Davies © 2018


And how do you feel you’ve expanded as a performer throughout the tour, especially with this group of highly accomplished tenors - each brilliant in his own right? What kinds of things have you learned from being on the road? It must have felt intense at times, with the highs and lows of such a rigorous schedule …

learnt about stage presence and what carries well from watching the guys perform and talk to the audiences.

My eyes have definitely been opened to the demands of touring. It was a lot of fun, but a pretty tiring schedule. I popped in and out of the show, but the Tenors have serious vocal demands in their repertoire, so the whole experience has emphasised the need to look after yourself, look after your voice and keep yourself in the best state possible for performing. To be honest, there were so many highs, I can't think of many lows, but I would say: take your rest when you can, even if it's a ten-minute nap on the bus or some downtime in the afternoon before a performance.

I was of course thrilled to have finished the tour in my hometown, Dunedin, but I also really enjoyed two places I’d never been – New Plymouth (beautiful waterfront, great coffee, cool shops) and Blenheim (absolutely stunning). We toured by bus and saw so many of our country’s beautiful sights.

What was your favourite place to visit? (Maybe I shouldn’t ask that; we know you love Dunedin :-)

What’s next for you? I’m looking forward to a number of performances, including singing with City Choir Dunedin and Cellists of Otago. And I’ll be performing the French national anthem at the Highlanders v French Barbarians match this month (June). I’m currently auditioning for several shows at various venues. Shall I keep you posted?

It's also good to have activities you enjoy doing alone on your days off. I really liked going for big walks (especially when we were near the ocean) and doing hotel room yoga! I also enjoyed the days where I could get normal jobs done (so the life admin doesn't pile up on you) and it was great to FaceTime family and call friends.


Website: Sophie Morris

In terms of performance itself, I watched every show from side-of-stage (and sometimes from the audience after I’ve finished performing) so I’ve

Facebook: Sophie Morris - Soprano


Image ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018


Danny Buchanan danny@otagorecording.co.nz

Stephen Stedman stephen@otagorecording.co.nz

High Quality Audio Recording Services

Otago Recording Company


Photograph ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018


Dr. Glam &

The Revelation of

Alice Cooper A Light for Misfits & Mavericks the Outcasts & Estranged An interview with Ian Chapman by Caroline Davies


Photograph by Tara Douglas


“Welcome to my nightmare” says showman Alice Cooper with wicked glee, but Ian Chapman, aka Dr. Glam, a Professor of Rock Music at Otago University, reveals a different side of Alice. Dr. Chapman, the good professor of rock n roll, bears no physical resemblance to the Hollywood horror and fantasy film characters that have inspired Alice Cooper or his own dramatic alter-egos found performing on stage, but what Alice, and Dr. Glam embody behind the theatrics are the inner attributes of the always triumphant sub-hero with a conscience. A mash up of kind, albeit scary looking monsters, benevolent aliens and even Dumbledore (Harry Potter does have its moments of squealy, edgy horror). They are like other worldly archetypes rummaging, or, in this case, rockin’ n rolling about for antidotes to villainous glamour spells unconsciously cast by society and assisting the heroes and heroines of their own personal story to escape from the nightmare of repetitious, mundane limitation. They say and sing ‘look beyond the surface’ and shed light on the priceless contents found within the misfits, mavericks, outcasts and estranged - to find comfort and confidence in their own unique gifts. Alice Cooper, Dr. Glam and other glamstars, in fact, encourage all to embrace their seemingly awkward differences they feel set them apart, and rather - be brave, be bold, and transform what feels like an uncomfortable mis-fit with the conventions of “normal life” into an advantage. Never fear, variety is the magic and spice of life!

“I want to be remembered as the Barnham and Bailey of Rock n Roll. I want the lyrics to come to life. If you say, ‘Welcome to My Nightmare’, give them a nightmare. Let the lyrics write the show”.

Alice Cooper in a Podcast Sept 5, 2017 with Brian Hiatt, Rolling Stone

5th September, 2017


O p e n Yo u r E y e s a n d S e e

In New Zealand, you might be familiar with Ian Chapman’s numerous alter-egos of stage and screen. Initially inspired by David Bowie’s glam-rock Ziggy Stardust character, besides Dr. Glam there is Thaddeus Grime (Dr. Glam’s wicked alter-ego), and Mr. Glad (the anagrammatic cousin of Dr. Glam) and his spirited, frolicsome band, The Skeleton Family. Besides David Bowie, the Professor includes other gods of glam rock’s music in his repertoire, Sweet, Slade, KISS, T-Rex, Alice Cooper (of course) as well as some good old sparkly originals.

If you’re an avid fan of Alice Cooper, you might want to skip the next few paragraphs. I’m just going to state the obvious but it wasn’t until I sat down with Ian for this interview, that I realised the performer I had mostly ignored for decades has a lot more going on than shock-rock stage spectacles. I wondered about, and subsequently cringed at, the possibility that perhaps the Australian Government’s ban on Alice Cooper, refusing him a visa to perform with his band back in 1975 had anything to do with it. I lived there at the time and was very young - what kind of psychological influence can such a contentious scandal have on the subconscious mind of an innocent and naive girl who was concentrating on being a flower

The brave, bold Doctor from Dunedin is also the author of “Glory Days - From gumboots to platforms”, “Kiwi Rock Chicks, Pop Stars & Trailblazers”, “The Kiwi Fisherman’s Guide to Life” (well, yes a bit of an odd fish in the list but perfectly reasonable and normal for the likes of Professor Chapman), “Experiencing David Bowie - A Listener’s Companion”, “the Dunedin Sound - Some Disenchanted Evening”, his latest on Alice Cooper, and Editor - along with Henry Johnson of “Global Glam and Popular Music - Style and Spectacle from the 1970s to the 2000s”. There is more on David Bowie coming up, and I believe on the horizon, a book about the fair and bold goddess of rock n roll, Blondie.

child? It was the ‘biting the head off a chicken’ myth that provoked this misunderstanding with the Aussies in charge of entry visas for travelling circuses and raucous rock bands, and although there was a horrific chicken incident that ended sadly and badly through no fault of his own, Alice Cooper’s morality was vindicated only a short time later. By 1977 “The Welcome to my Nightmare” tour finally reached Oceania, packing stadiums across Australia and New Zealand, freaking out conservative adults and delighting those young at heart with The Coop’s spectacular and gory theatrics set to rock music. 38

Photograph by Alan Dove


Winding us back to the first paragraph’s message of ‘don’t judge a book solely by its cover’ theme,

the good professor of

glam turned the light on for me, and I had a revelation. Challenging the parameters of tight social constraints is after all, one of the tasks of many an artist. Unconventional performers, as with Alice Cooper, are meant to make us stretch, grow, and to inspire us to embrace our own unique qualities. I certainly didn’t aspire to, nor did I settle for, a “normal” life


I thank




archetypes that I found resonance with for expressing



fully, thus

opening the door and paving the way for others who also wished to live on the borders of society and perhaps help morph the edges of acceptance. Somebody’s got to do it - or humanity will never expand or evolve. We can all find pieces of ourselves in a great artist who evokes life’s rich archetypes for a reason beyond their art. Listen to their story and you will find those same pieces. It’s their job to reflect the unrealised potential we have hidden within, and ours to see and delight in the contents revealed.

Photograph by Wilma McCorkindale


Why Glam?

and in Godzone

Think or imagine back to the transformative decades of the 1960s and 70s when rigid social structures began to loosen and break apart.

Meanwhile, in a southern corner of the ends of the earth, far, far away from the colourful fashions of

As could be expected and witnessed, it wasn’t smooth sailing during a radical time. A newly defined line between “us and them” - in this case - the restless and rebellious, provoking the well-established

conservative small city of Hamilton on the North Island of New Zealand lived a young, slightly unusual

conservatives and conformists - was drawn on multiple levels, socially, racially, culturally. ‘Wake

His name was Ian and the emergence and timing of glam rock was his saviour.

Carnaby Street in London and the peace and love movement in Haight-Ashbury, San Francisco, in the


up and loosen up, let go of your inhibitions’ was the

violence and pain seem a constant with the human race.

Ian Chapman: “I was a small and quite effeminate looking kid which attracted a lot of bullying. Hamilton was a place where the stereo type aspiration for a boy was to be a tough, competitive All Black rugby player. I quickly came to the realisation that people judged and treated you by how you look. Outlandish artists like David Bowie and Alice Cooper turned what was generally deemed as socially negative, into a positive, and made their differences a strength.”

Simultaneously, a corresponding concept emerged responding to the discord - flower power instead of gun power - idealistic flower children, wishfully bearing the message of love and peace over fear, anger and violence. And amongst the tumultuous birthing

The formative years of glam rock were relatively short lived, but powerful enough to sustain the message for over five decades - that if you feel you don’t fit current social conventions - you cannot only reinvent yourself, but empower yourself as well. How was glam defined?

pains of this new era, underscored by revolutionary expressions of music, Glam Rock was born.

“I think the distinctions of glam would primarily be

message of the day from those who found the restraints of corsets and bras, suits and ‘a little dab will do ya' Brylcreem, too stiff and tight - there can be so much more to life. Loosen that belt and breathe and expand. Expand and breathe. The notion of a new kind of personal freedom had been unleashed. Jittery resistance to that notion came at the cost of violence, and it was painful- nothing new in the world, since


Photograph by Tara Douglas


the U.K. model from around 1971-to 1975. In the U.K., people attributed the emergence of glam rock to Marc Bolan of T-Rex, and I would agree that he was the first one to go on to the Top of the Pops wearing stars and glitter under his eyes. There were American artists, but they found their fame and fortune first and foremost in the U.K. Suzi Quatro, for example, couldn’t buy a gig back in the

ment. It said that rock stars don’t have to be these Nietzchean divinely inspired by the heavens kind of wonderful, exceptional human beings. They can be you and me, and we can create this for ourselves too. It’s usually the first inception of a transformative movement that breaks down all the barriers, and then the refinements, adjustments, changes, and evolvement follow from the initial impact. I am just delighted when I see someone like Lady Gaga pushing the same message for a new generation of kids. I love the fact that she refers to her fans as ‘little monsters’, and she uses the term monster in her lyrics and album titles as well. It is a catch phrase to encapsulate the people that feel different and outside of ‘normality’, so her little monsters flock to her because they do feel different, marginalised or estranged. I also think the whole message of David Bowie lives on through artists like Lady Gaga. It’s generations later, but now, here is a newly formed blue-print for change and self empowerment.”

U.S., but when she moved to England, she became part of the glam movement, and teamed up with Mickey Most - well, the rest is history. The first inception of glam, to me, besides David Bowie and Alice Cooper, came through artists like Slade, Sweet, T Rex, Cockney Rebel and Mott the Hoople, but it died by 1975 when it got swept away by punk. But the interesting thing for me is that punk musicians like Johnny Rotten, grew up on glam. I see that fitting glam rock’s message, if you don’t like what life has handed you, reinvent yourself in your own ideal image. David Bowie reinvented himself and started performing as Ziggy Stardust - a fictitious, androgynous, alien rock star. He transcended gender and boundaries, and became a megasuperstar through that transformation and reinvention of himself. I think glam is a really important stepping stone in the evolution of rock and that form of self empower43


A n d t h e n t h e r e ’s A l i c e “Be brave and be yourself”

as freaks and outcasts. Things started to happen when Frank Zappa took an interest in them. Their first album was with Zappa’s record company. (Pretties For You on FZ's Bizarre Records label 1969. The second album Easy Action was recorded on FZ's Straight label - 1970). Underneath, I am sure all musicians have a desire for some sort of success, and I think they were so sure it would not happen for them, that that’s why the cover of their Billion Dollar Babies album shows them cavorting with piles of cash. It’s a parody of the industry and how they never thought they could find such huge success - they were just babes in the woods as the title suggests. So yes, there was a drive for fame, and then along with the surprise, gratitude when that success came along. I think Alice Cooper ’s moral side came through progressively after that. “

Behind the mask of Alice is Vincent Damon Furnier, the son of a preacher. He plays a devilish, fiendish character on the world stage, but behind the scenes is an astute man with warmth and a sense of humour, he is a talented musician who has his own connection with, and version of, Christian ethics. “Even in the early days his faith was always there bubbling below the surface at certain times but in his later life, the last couple of decades, his faith absolutely drives him. He does a lot of work for charity, he has his own foundation, Alice Cooper ’s Solid Rock, looking after troubled kids with strong Christian ambitions within the program - he is quite evangelistic in a way. It’s a very unusual mix isn’t it.”

Such as in the days of “I’ve had way too much alcohol and I need to check in and do something about it”?

Ha! And all this time I believed his stage act (which shows how good an actor he can be) and thought he was a loud, bad-assed dude. I should know better, I studied theatre and lived in Hollywood, nothing is as it seems. My faux-pas - I was focused elsewhere. So what drove him in the early days?

“Yes. From the Inside is a confessional album that was all about his experiences in rehab. It is an interesting and underrated album and contains the very beautiful ballad ‘How You Gonna See Me Now?’ written for his wife Cheryl because she had never seen him sober. He thought she might not like him any more (they’ve been together for over forty years now). He worked on that record with Bernie Taupin (the long term collaborator with Elton John).

“Well, there was a drive for fame and fortune in the early days for sure, but Alice Cooper (the whole band) never really expected to become famous because they were so far out - they were written off 45


Although they have very different performance styles, Alice Cooper and David Bowie have more similarities at their heart than people realize. Head to head, David Bowie was probably the better song writer, but in terms of their fundamental ethos they are both leading examples of rallying together the marginalised, the outcasts and the estranged in their songwriting.

Well, indeed, it takes an artist who is willing to step outside of the mundane, who is willing to razzle and dazzle us with satire, top hat and tails, and then blow our minds - that’s entertainment. Where did Alice get his influences? He was a big fan of Grand Guignol Theatre - the theatre of horror. He was also a tv addict and loved late night horror movies - cheap, trashy and otherwise, shows like the Adams Family, vaudeville, and comedy like the Marx Brothers.

Someone once called David Bowie ‘a flame towards which dysfunctional moths fly’, and I think Alice Cooper is the same in that he gives those on the outside a community. Being different doesn’t make them bad people. I too felt very different to the conformed majority as a teenager in the early 70s, and seeing someone else so obviously different made it feel okay for me to not have a preference toward mainstream tendencies.”

In the narrative of his shows, Alice always commits some sort of misdemeanour. Subsequently there would be a theatrical hanging, or the guillotine was brought out. He commits a crime and pays dearly for it with his life. At the end of his show he comes back out in a top hat, tails and a cane, the balloons come down and he turns the end of the night into a party. He says he always wants to leave his audience on a high note.”

When was your first experience of Alice Cooper? “I heard his music through friends in Hamilton when I was growing up. I wasn’t a huge committed fan until I went to the ‘Welcome to my Nightmare’ concert in Auckland in 1977 and saw the music brought to life. We didn’t have Top of the Pops or much music like Alice Cooper’s on TV.

The moral compass “There was a time in history when public executions were a form of entertainment. Thousands would flock to witness a public hanging or beheading by guillotine sanctioned by the ‘state’. By introducing this in his stage act he is asking the question, ‘why is it wrong for him to kill someone (theatrically speaking, on stage), but

He is a performer that is far more than just the music, he is a full theatrical package. Seeing him live was when my mind was blown. “ 47

the state can?’ Or commit a crime and then pay the ultimate price. There is a deep moral question underlying the executions in his stage show. That used to be a common theme in Grand Guignol theatre as well.”

who did a great job as the opening act. They were first on, then Alice, then Mötley Crüe.” Experiencing Alice Cooper: A Listener’s Companion How did you primarily identify with Alice whilst writing ‘Experiencing Alice Cooper’?

Thirty eight years later in 2015, Alice Cooper returned to Auckland as the opening act for Mötley Crüe’s final world tour. Besides the obvious maturing of Alice, were there perceptible changes in the supreme showman’s act?

“It’s the message of being able to be brave enough to live your life your own way to put it in a sentence. He is a good example of someone who has done that in the way he has lived with his single minded determination. We can all benefit and learn from that.”

“No, it was like time had stood still. It was like 1977 all over again. His voice was still strong, and frankly, it was really a double header for that tour. Mötley Crüe very bravely chose Alice, as the Godfather of Glam Punk, or in their words, Glam Metal, as their opening act. Although he was ostensibly their support act, he blew them off the stage. Even the Mötley Crüe fans saw it.

Did you have any revelations during the writing process? “Like any artist with a super long career, there are different periods and aspects of their career where you don’t quite resonate with their work, or they don’t quite meet your expectations, or hit the mark for you. Now all these years later and re-listening to some of his music I didn’t really get at the time, was a revelation for me because I discovered new stuff and now wonder why I was so quick to dismiss some of it. The experience has reawakened my respect and my regard for the man and the musician. Where I thought there were low points, now no longer are. I’ve got a whole lot of new favourite Alice Cooper tracks!”

The audience was a really interesting mix. There you had the godfather of seventies metal - Alice Cooper, and then, with a generational divide, Mötley Crüe, although outwardly, both bands were considered to be in the same genre. There were entire families at the concert. Mum and dad metaller, and their little metaller kids in their black t-shirts - it was a fantastic vibe. It was also a great forum for an up and coming New Zealand band from my hometown of Hamilton called Devil Skin 48

Photograph ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018


Experiencing Alice Cooper: A Listener’s Companion places a long overdue microscope on the music and performative style of rock music’s self-styled arch-villain. A provocateur from the very start of his career in the mid-1960s, Alice Cooper carved a unique path through five decades of rock’n’roll and continues to do so today. But despite a longevity that only a handful of other artists and acts can match, he remains remarkably difficult to pin down and categorize. Most particularly in the last years of the 1960s and during the heyday of his commercial success during the early-mid 1970s, his groundbreaking theatricality, calculated offensiveness, and evident disregard for the conventions of rock authenticity caused confusion and outrage among critics and public alike. Society’s watchdogs demanded his head, and Cooper willingly obliged at the end of each performance after the guillotine blade had fallen. But as youth anthem after youth anthem - ‘I’m Eighteen’, School’s Out’, ‘Elected’, ‘Department of Youth’ - rang out in stadiums the world over and across global airwaves, myriad fans flocked to experience and align themselves to Cooper’s unique brand of rock. Critics searched to find descriptors; ‘pantomime’, ‘vaudeville’, ‘retch-rock’, ‘Grand Guignol’, while in 1973 Cooper was headlined in Time magazine as ‘Schlock Rock’s Godzilla’.


Author Ian Chapman examines Cooper’s career using the artist’s twenty-seven studio albums (1969-2011) as the spine of his investigation. Authors and commentators writing about Cooper have traditionally focussed upon the on-stage spectacle when critiquing his work and this has meant that these recordings have received remarkably little attention in either academic or popular presses. And yet, first and foremost, despite being rock’s most accomplished showman Cooper is a musician. Experiencing A l i c e C o o p e r : A L i s t e n e r ’s Companion, therefore, invites readers to (re)experience Cooper through their ears as well as their eyes in order to gain a deeper understanding of this unique artist’s work.

Website: Ian Chapman



New Zealand’s acclaimed biannual literary journal, Landfall, published by Otago University Press,

recently joined with the

Otago Art Society in Dunedin to celebrate the digitization of the magazine’s first 20 years of publication. Landfall, New Zealand’s

and the

longest running literary and fine arts journal was founded by the renowned author, Charles Brasch and first published over 71 years ago in March, 1947.

Otago Art

Nic Dempster (immediate past President of the OAS), a long time fan of Landfall, came up with the idea to mark the prestigious journal’s long anticipated digitization and new website, Landfall Archives, by inviting artists to create works in any medium for an exhibition (May 24 to June 17) at the Otago Art Society. Each artist was given a


random issue of Landfall with which to find their inspiration, culminating in an impressive and often moving show of 80 works. Each art work was accompanied by an artist’s statement connecting back to their chosen words, story or poem previously published in

celebrating the connections between literature and fine art

Landfall. A challenging process to select only some of the works rather than the entire collection here in this limited space, the following pages are a small representation of the entire exhibition. Otago Art Society Landfall Archives

Much of the photography of the art works represented here are thanks to Raimo Kuparinen, Otago Art Society.

Landfall All works of art, artist statements, and poems and quotes from Landfall are © copyright to their pertinent creators, authors and Landfall .


Photograph ~ Caroline Davies © 2018

Otago Art Society is located at the Dunedin Railway Station And was formed to: “Promote interest in the study of and practice in the Fine and Applied Arts in Otago. The Otago Art Society was formed in 1876 by a small group of ‘gentlemen, favourable to the formation of a Society of Arts in Dunedin’. This small beginning flourished to such an extent that by 1897 there were 140 artists and 50 honorary members.” Otago Art Society


David Bishop Never Judge a Book by its Cover Acrylic ‘13 Visualisations from Landfall #80’, Landfall 80, December 1966. Thirteen items are included in this issue of Landfall. An interesting mix of poems and essays by famous, and not so famous, names in New Zealand Literature. This painting centres on the cover of Issue #80. Sprouting from it, framed in gold, are sketches reflecting the topic of each item in the book with the name of each author clearly shown. The viewer must decide how well each sketch reflects an author ’s intentions: Look at C. K. Stead’s article - A review of the book ‘Collected Poems’ by A. R. D. Fairburn which appears to have been badly received by critics. Stead’s last four words “The punishment seems outrageous” inspired the sketch which shows the literary establishment, summarised as a badly formed treble clef, pitching Fairburn away from a more acceptable poet who is surrounded by a doting crowd of dots. Can you see the symbolism in the McCahon – and his inspiration? And the boy’s broken kite in the Frame sketch? The lame gull in the Bilbrough sketch? All thirteen authors are credited but an important name is missing from the outer circle of contributors. Charles Brasch. He brought #80 together so this work discretely credits him, not for the parts but the whole. It was tempting to polish up the finished painting by applying paint of uniform intensity. The brush work is quite rough in places, but left that way. Why? Roddick’s contribution was entitled ‘Take care to leave the Brushmarks!’ Each picture tells a story, it is up to the viewer to read it. There is so much behind the relatively dull colours of the front cover. Never judge a book by its cover.


Never Judge a Book by its Cover David Bishop © 2018 55

Pauline Durning Landfall Landrise Poem-Painting James K Baxter, Tribute Edition, Landfall 103 Kia ora koutou, The work comprises of a poem and a painting. Both are about relationships - lifeblood, and how all life is connected. Inspired by the common threads throughout Landfall 103 the poem has been constructed from either a word, a number of words or phrases from every page of Landfall 103 including the cover. This approach is my way of acknowledging the authors featured in the Landfall 103 edition. The poem summarizes the recurring themes from the book through a tribute to the poet James K. Baxter, who was a personal friend. He was someone who firmly believed that love was the thing missing in so many unhappy lives. He saw that this was particularly the case with folk who were different and who were unable or unwilling to conform to the expected norms of society at the time. Each of the writers in Landfall 103, in his or her own way, promotes an understanding of what it is to be human in a complex world. Landfall 103 is from the 1970s. Nearly 50 years later and the themes continue to be relevant. Some of the poem is featured on the frame of the painting. The painting symbolizes life, relationship, heart, lifeblood, seasons, hard-times connection etc‌ the various themes from the writing within Landfall 103. Kia ora tatou 56

Landfall Landrise Pauline Durning Š 2018 57

Inge Doesburg Untitled Solar Print

Inspired by Brian Turner poem.

Brian Turner has been a regular contributor with Landfall over a long period of time. I have done a number of collaborations with him in the past. The excerpt from one of his poems was chosen by me for a larger work. I particularly like it and made this print as well. It was type-set by Jon Holmes.


Untitled Inge Doesburg Š 2018 59

Allie Simpson Bitter Sweet Mixed Media on Canvas Jenny Powell-Chalmers, ‘Cherries’, Landfall 215, Autumn 2008, p.117 In my artwork I have explored the bitter sweet memories we carry with us every day. To me the poem reflects on relationships, shared memories and loss. These topics may be sad, but the cherries draw me back to the treasures memories can be, these far out-weigh the bitterness of loss. As a child I enjoyed watching my mother cooking and this piece is in honour of those bitter sweet memories that although they are but memories now they are as abundant and colourful as these cherries and the ones in the poem. The language of the poem stirred the visual imagery I have experimented with using the senses that all hold that flicker of a memory, sound, touch, taste and smell. All held temporary captive for a moment in a still life.


Bitter Sweet Allie Simpson © 2018


Celia Duff Waiting to be Free Acrylic Advertisement for ‘The Beatles’ Illustrated Lyrics’ as seen by Alan Aldrige and selected artists, Landfall 93, March 1970, inside cover An advertisement on the inside cover for “The Beatles’ Illustrated Lyrics as seen by Alan Aldridge and selected artists” was the first thing that caught my attention. The idea of creating a work inspired by a Beatles’ song seemed full of possibility. “Blackbird”, with its theme of taking brokenness and finding freedom, was my song of choice, but an image eluded me. Putting that idea on hold, I went through the issue again, stopping at a short story by John Monteith titled “Story for a Chair for my Room”. It told of a woman leaving a relationship and walking away from her home into the evening. Inspiration grew out of the imagery in her story – “Outside the effect of the dark was enveloping so that beneath the hood of her duffle coat she seemed to have double protection against the world.” “She moved between shadow and indefinite yellow light…” Walking through the park, she stopped at the pavilion to smoke a cigarette and noticed a bird flying high in the sky. “As she stood excitedly and looked directly overhead she became aware of the many many birds, so high, each flying so very straight north-east.” I realised my inspiration had come full circle. The words of “Blackbird” could be echoing the theme of this woman’s story. Birds feature symbolically in both, even to her finding a sparrow with a broken wing along her path. The words of the song and the words of the story morphed into the inspiration for this painting and left me wondering… how long had she waited to be free, as she flew into the light of the dark black night?


Waiting to be Free Celia Duff © 2018 63

Claire Beynon Katherine Mansfield: Story after Story Oils, conte pencil, beeswax & watercolour Emma Neale’s review of Kathleen Jones’s biography, ‘Katherine Mansfield: The Storyteller ’, Landfall 226, Spring 2013, p. 163 This painting was prompted by Emma Neale’s review of Kathleen Jones’s biography, Katherine Mansfield: The Storyteller, specifically the following lines: “… With an imagination so responsive to light that it seems like the psychological equivalent of photographic paper, she laces story after story with the play of fire in a grate, the gleam of ship lights, of candles, the flicker of sun and moon on water, or lamps passing from window to window, filtered by trees, of sunshine quivering on walls and floorboards… Such receptivity is a barometer of her sensitivity to the constant shift of impulses, moods, all the psychological undercurrents of attractions, compulsions, betrayals, hypocrisies, disavowals, retractions, social masks, performances. … The cover matter on Jones’s biography says this is a ‘new kind of picture’ of the author.” The words photographic paper provided me with the first ‘hook’ for this painting; I set out to create a new kind of picture of Katherine Mansfield, a portrait both allusive and immediately recognizable with the young writer ’s face not quite in full focus, yet alive with light and carrying the psychological undercurrents alluded to by Emma in her review; attractions, compulsions, betrayals, hypocrisies, disavowals, retractions, social masks, performances. It felt important to include an object belonging to biographer, Kathleen Jones (the necklace in the painting is ‘borrowed’ from one of Kathleen’s Facebook photographs) and to transcribe Emma Neale’s words directly into the painting. A trio of strong women! The text is impregnated in beeswax – a reference to history and the preservation of stories. I kept my colour palette spare, congruent with the images of light evoked in Emma’s commentary. 64

Katherine Mansfield: Story after Story Claire Beynon Š 2018 65

Corrina Woodason Playfair Street Acrylic on Baby Iron Kay McKenzie Cooke, ‘Suburb’, Landfall 230, Spring 2015, p.142 I’m quite familiar with Caversham, one of the oldest suburbs in Dunedin. My Mother grew up there, my Gran at 92 years old still lives there in her own home in Playfair Street. Kay McKenzie Cooke’s poem, ‘Suburb’ spoke of all the things I too see, hear & feel Caversham to be. My painting is of 29 ‘Playfair Street’. I have passed this house regularly since I was a child. It is trapped in a derelict state …always. The street name for me, is a total opposite of how this house has lived its life, and I like how the ‘baby iron’ exaggerates it.


Playfair Street Corrina Woodason © 2018 67

Dawn Brown 04.2018 Ink & Oil Leonard Lambert, ‘Te Mihi (The Welcome) for Turi’ Landfall 164, December 1987 I found the final stanza to be very powerful, exuding feelings of loss, despair and sadness with an element of reluctant acceptance. I perceived the acute sense of personal loss to be from the absence of culture, beliefs, family – forming a great ‘aloneness’ – alone and misplaced amongst the pakeha with whom he had absolutely no connection. My challenge was to paint expression that encompassed all of those feelings. Gender was irrelevant. Contemplative, sadness and grief. Wise. A lone, elderly descendant, continuing to nurture and respect the mana bestowed upon them at birth. Perhaps. I have painted from the words of poets for many years, completing series from the work of Baxter and Frame. Recently I have begun painting on the words (literally) as well as from them, ripping up the appropriate book from which my inspiration and imagination has derived from.


04.2018 Dawn Brown © 2018 69

Dési Liversage Slut Stitch Judith Lofley, ‘Slut’, Landfall, Spring 2017, p.106 A prayer for the sluts among us for our lives and desires the fluttered eyelashes and high heels For the right to wear short skirts and lacy tights to prance or pose with sex on our sleeves and our hearts askance all for the asking or telling. A blessing for the daring and departed who bare their wretched bones, and for the breeding and bleeding witches for the wanting and wanton bless them all in the howling wind beneath the bridges as we strut or skulking shadow and light. Lofley’s poem reminded me of the worldwide SlutWalk marches which arose in reaction to a Canadian police officer who proclaimed that “women should stop dressing like sluts”, an erroneous myth of rape culture.


Slut Dési Liversage © 2018


Jen Long Tendrils Mixed Media Cilla McQueen, ‘Low Tide, Aramoana’, Landfall 147, p.362 I often walk my dog along Aramoana beach at low tide. Reading Cilla McQueen’s poetic description of ‘Low Tide, Aramoana’ transported me and for a moment I was there again, all senses alert. I felt a quickening and deeply somatic response to the way Cilla captured the essence of my experience in that place. high gulls hang seaweed is arrested the water’s skin tightens we stand still. even the wind evaporates leaving a scent of salt The above portion of Cilla’s poem evoked a visual feast of seaweed tendrils, like eels with their slippery bodies, held captive by sea and salt foam.


Tendrils Jen Long © 2018 73

Jenny Longstaff The Flame Within Acrylic Leo Bensemann, Front Cover Design, Landfall 81, March 1967 The flame and burnt stick of this Landfall cover triggered vivid memories for me, reminding me of my fascination with fire when I was young. Perhaps I was influenced through being born under the fire sign of Aries. My father used to smoke a pipe and I could not resist nicking the matches and sneaking away to the bottom of the garden to set fire to things. When I was four years old I burnt the hedge beside our family home, luckily without incurring casualties. I also loved making a fire in the back yard to cook ‘damper ’ on a stick or spuds in tinfoil – under parental supervision, for the safety of the neighbourhood! ‘Playing with fire’ continued as I grew older – progressing from the comforting warmth of the family hearth when toasting marshmallows, to personal misguided passions leading to burnt fingers and a scorched heart. I was 13 years old when this Landfall issue was produced in March 1967. My mother was still alive (she died two years later), and my brother had not yet left home, so I remember it as a time of family togetherness. We were an outdoorsy family, enjoying camping expeditions during school holidays. Sitting around a campfire, poking the embers with a stick then twirling it to write bright words, the sparks whirling upwards to the stars, listening to Dad playing his harmonica and Mum humming the tunes, our dog lying so close to the fire we could smell his hair singeing, our faces aglow by firelight – these are very strong images from my youth. Right from the start I have been aware of the duality of fire as a creative spark, a light in the dark, but also its dangerous potential to destroy and leave a wasteland of ashes.


The Flame Within Jenny Longstaff © 2018 75

Gabby McKenzie Emissary in the City Acrylic on Canvas Peter Simpson reviewing Ian Wedde’s, ‘How to be Nowhere: Essays and Texts 1971-1994’, Landfall 191, Autumn 1996, p.152 In his book Ian Wedde refers to the Te Māori art exhibition saying, “It looks to me as though Te Māori was sent away in order to come home – in order to become Te Hokianga Mai, and in that aspect to make visible what had been hidden, namely the significance and beauty of Māori Art”. The Te Māori exhibition toured internationally and it was a landmark exhibition because it was Maori putting forward Maori art; a venture for Māori by Māori. I saw this exhibition at the National Museum and Art Gallery in Wellington when I was 13 years old and I distinctly remember how the presence of the large carved wooden figures dominated the room. Reading about the Te Māori exhibition reminded me of many aspects of our history: British people ‘collecting’ and pressing ferns and flowers, Māori Chiefs sailing to England to meet with Queen Victoria; divergent ideas about ‘appropriate’ land use and allocation of land reserves. Added to this imagery is my personal concern for the survival of our native bird species and their natural habitat. Between 1882 and 1924 four groups of Māori Chiefs travelled to meet with Queen Victoria as representatives of their values and way of life; asking that their culture be valued and protected as per the rights given in the Treaty Of Waitangi. In my painting the Tūī (‘Parson bird’) is going to the city to urge officials to protect his habitat and to ensure the survival of all of the native bird species of Aotearoa. We have so many native birds on the endangered species list and I fear that we will lose them before we realise how urgent their situation is, and how important they are to us. Perhaps like the art of the Te Māori exhibition our native birds need to be brought to the fore and exalted in order for us to treat them as important. 76

Emissary in the City Gabby McKenzie © 2018 77

Raimo Kuparinen Path “Path (Elements 6)� Landfall 2013, issue no: 226 page 72 Path is where my dog takes me.


Path Raimo Kuparinen © 2018


Lesley Schofield Square Dance - Unfinished Mixed ‘Square Dance’ Landfall 186, Spring 1993 I happened to be volunteering at the Otago Art Society Shop at the time the Landfall Exhibition was announced and picked up one of the Landfall volumes and flicked through the pages. I happened upon a poem called ‘Square Dance’. It is about our love of possessions and of an Uncle who could make anything out of wood. He would labour hard and make sacrifices but after all this work he died penniless. One of my hobbies is quilting and as I was in the process of making a house quilt, consisting of different house designs along with log cabin squares. I thought how about making a quilt for this exhibition? I am a hobbyist rather than an artist and this is the first quilt that I have designed by myself. All my previous quilts have been made using a pattern. The inspiration that I got from this poem was to have an appliqued house in a large centre square and smaller ‘squares’ of fabric would appear to be ‘dancing’ around the house. Each of these smaller squares would depict one of the objects that are mentioned in the poem. Sometimes life throws you a curve ball or a bombshell. construction of this piece for the Landfall Exhibition.

That happened during my

Hence it is unfinished. Tears and heartache have got me to this stage. However, I would like to dedicate this unfinished work to my late husband John. He would not want me to quit, but to continue. Life is fickle – grab it with both hands – for we don’t know what will happen tomorrow…


Square Dance - Unfinished Lesley Schofield © 2018 81

Nic Dempster Suburban Bliss Acrylic on Ply Kevin Ireland, ‘Insurrection: Rewhiti Avenue,’ Landfall 81, March 1967, pp51-52 I must confess that this work is actually inspired by two different poems by Kevin Ireland. I started working on this whilst reading his ‘Boys at Oriental Bay,’ which was in an earlier edition. That poem conjured up images of Wellington on the rarest of occasions, a brilliantly hot windless summer ’s day. I wanted to capture that feeling of hot corrugated iron and concrete by using the white wash under those vibrant crisp colours that are always enhanced by the sun beating down from above. It was at this stage that I then gave that particular journal away to another artist in need of one and I left the work for a while. Once I returned to it, I found that the original poem had faded from my memory and I rifled through another issue and found another Ireland poem ‘Rewhiti Avenue.’ This poem imagines New Zealand suburbia as a chaotic battle ground. A scene full of chirping birds, banging doors, crashing windows, ‘bursts of bees and wasps…homicidal dogs…cats drop(ing) like bombs…hordes of rioting children’ and gangs of council men digging trenches. Even the distant ocean can be heard as it hits the beach with ‘thuds like a siege gun.’ Terms like ‘shrapnel,’ ‘bomb,’ ‘explodes,’ ‘battle,’ ‘rapid fire,’ and ‘fight’ all add to the sense of drama and tension. I was drawn to this poem as it seemed to be the exact opposite of my typical work. Where the poet offers a cacophony of noise and action, I strip away all but the structural and botanical forms. Offering a more calming (perhaps debatable) and eerily silent suburbia. I offer this work as a contrast to the poet’s view.


Suburban Bliss Nic Dempster Š 2018 83

Carol Moffatt Recalling the Past Watercolour Jacky Bowring, ‘Et in Arcadia Ego’, Landfall 218, 2009, p.111 Four Meditations on Landscape and Melancholy; Lament p.111 I chose this section of the meditations because it resonated with ghosts from my past. The sadness and melancholy comes from events that I was too young to understand and did not know. The huia is a bird I did not know except through books, museums and the Internet. What really appealed to me was the enduring relationships these birds had with each other which also made them vulnerable to capture. The memories I have now through reading and studying the huia is of a ghostly bird, with a memorable song, which floated through the bush. In my head I can hear it. I love to paint landscapes and thought long and hard as to how to create a ghostly feel to the painting. In the end I felt painting feathers floating through the trees with the last feathers floating through the ether and finally falling to the ground would create the atmosphere I wanted to establish. Huia never flew above the bush but rather floated through it. Painting the bird from the stilted images I have seen would have been a travesty. I felt imagining the huia flying through the trees would suffice.


Recalling the Past Carol Moffatt © 2018


Brenda Nyhof Macrocarpa Men Mixed Kerry Louise Harrison, ‘A Whale Sunday’, Landfall 187, Autumn 1994, p.120 'We vaulted up the sand dunes to the hole in the macrocarpa hedge. Inside we crawled. It was my grandmothers hedge and it smelt of dark green forest, held within it whole armies of bloodied men and the odd gnarled creature.' This section took me straight back to my childhood. Macrocarpa hedges were perfect for kids to hide and make huts in. I have vivid memories of twisted branches, dusty dirt floors, wriggling through small gaps into other 'rooms', and the distinctive smells. I then got to thinking about the odd shapes of trees showing up in the headlights while driving at night along country roads, looking like deformed creatures and people. I put these thoughts together and came up with these 'Macrocarpa Men’.


Photo: Down in Edin Magazine

Macrocarpa Men Brenda Nyhof Š 2018 This photograph only shows detail of a small section from a much larger and intricate work 87

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Background Image: Topaz Labs: Creative Blur, Topaz Studio: Glow - Squiggly Lines Opposite Page: Topaz Studio: Glow - Soft Bloom, Screen Blend 88

Photograph ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018


On The Road The Many Moods of Otago

Photo Essay by

Ian Thomson Ian Thomson is a regular contributor to Down in Edin Magazine you can view more of Ian’s work here


Photograph ~ Ian Thomson Š 2018

The approach to Lindis Pass


Photograph ~ Ian Thomson Š 2018

Wakatipu Morning Lake Wakatipu


Photograph ~ Ian Thomson © 2018

Lake Wakatipu


Photograph ~ Ian Thomson Š 2018

Evening at Puketapu


Photograph ~ Ian Thomson © 2018

Still day on Hawkesbury Lagoon, Waikouaiti


Photograph ~ Ian Thomson © 2018

Tree and cloud, Tapanui


Photograph ~ Ian Thomson Š 2018

Where the road runs out to Mahinerangi


Photograph ~ Ian Thomson Š 2018

Farming land, Lake Wanaka


Photograph ~ Ian Thomson Š 2018

Motatapu Valley


Photograph ~ Ian Thomson © 2018

Light, Skipper's Canyon


Photograph ~ Ian Thomson © 2018

Lindis Pass


Photograph ~ Ian Thomson Š 2018

Rain in the hills, near Lake Mahinerangini


Photograph ~ Ian Thomson © 2018

Winter trees, Hawkdun Range


Photograph ~ Ian Thomson Š 2018

Dawn Gold, Manuherikia Valley


Photograph ~ Ian Thomson © 2018

That Wanaka Tree



Morning has well and truly broken and we are cruising along the Southern Scenic Route, out of Dunedin toward Brighton. We found the road by metamorphosis – you know, it sort of evolved that we were where we were.

a bunch of aussie blokes take a motor-cycle ride on the

It’s a lovely little road, this part of the Southern Scenic Route, and it winds and dips and turns through random forest and along a ridge, and back toward the ocean. Here I am, in my helmet, singing at the top of my voice “The Long and Winding Road”. Despite the fact that I am a youth of the ‘60’s I run out of known verses by the time we are alongside the pretty beach past Brighton and move on to “Smoke on the Water”, celebrating the light mist, as it lifts from the roiling surf and reveals the early golden morning.

Otago Roads

We are motor-cycling the Roads of Otago, and this is a special place to be. Over recent days, we had criss-crossed Otago, and will continue to do so, and extend beyond the bounds of Otago. We are under the watchful eye of Tāwhirimātea, the Māori God of Wind and Storms, and we find him a benevolent God. We are the Fabulous Five, a small group of ancient, crumbling Aussie misfits led by an expatriate Kiwi. His father was, I believe, a bank robber (or something like that) back in the good old days when bank robbery was a Kiwi specialty. As a result our leader moved, furtively, around New Zealand a lot, and is very familiar with the back roads as escape routes, and can speak the local language.

Story Stephen Davies Photography Wayne Rees


Over the prior days, we’ve travelled from Christchurch twisting via pretty little Akaroa and across the rich, pedestrian, Canterbury Plains where we witness the vast wealth generated by New Zealand agriculture. We push on past Lake Tekapo and the intriguingly named Twizel into what is, for us, the Real New Zealand, a place of beautiful rugged mountains, tumbling rivers and the winding, winding roads of Otago.

New Zealand is a place of adventure. I reflect this is so not just because of the inviting landscape, winter or summer, but because New Zealand has managed to deal with the scourge of litigation that infects places like Australia or the United States. Kids, and indeed us so-called grown-ups, are encouraged to adventure, to take risks and responsibility, to occasionally and boastfully break or bruise this or that, and to learn limits. We are all much better people for it. Otago is the adventure capital of the World.

We spend a couple of days in Queenstown. A couple of us stagger up Mount Queenstown relatively early in the next morning and we are rewarded richly with the most magnificent views of The Remarkables and the expanse of Lake Wakatipu.

In holiday mode, we scoot, as motor-cyclists do, up to Arrowtown for an early lunch and coffee. This is very pleasant, and we pass sanguine smiles to each other, and to the tourist hoards, grumbled up as we are in our heavy riding jackets and crumpled riding pants. When we bought these things they fitted perfectly, but age and weathering has caused us to shrink and our motor-cycling gear to become, well, “rustic”, more so as it is splattered with the corpses of a myriad errant summer bugs that have used us for target practice.

Later, we ascend Bob’s Peak in the chairlift for yet more views, and a coffee. We see with our own eyes the youthful, idiotic, spirits of the mountain bikers as they plunge seemingly out of control down the mountain, like something out of a latter day Banjo Patterson poem. And we see, and hear, the kids on the flying fox shriek their way down to the bottom.

Our return from Arrowtown is via Glenorchy. This holds little geographical logic, but the road, once past the entanglement of Queenstown, is especially beautiful. It winds along Lake Wakatipu and on this day is showered by sunshine. There is a point where, somewhere this side of Glenorchy, the distant snow-capped mountains toward Routeburn present

I watch a young Asian kid attached to a gangling man on a paraglider. They take off, running down the hill, the kid’s feet waving, dangling and I see on his face an expression full of terror and exhilaration. This, I know, is one boy who has just learned to conquer his fears. 108

Photograph ~ Wayne Rees © 2018

Lake Wakatipu promenade with the TSS Earnslaw in the background


Photograph ~ Wayne Rees © 2018

Glenorchy Road.....”As in Hugo’s Les Miserables, we feel we have stared into the face of God”


Photograph ~ Wayne Rees Š 2018

Glenorchy Road along the shore of Lake Wakatipu..breathtaking!


themselves. At this point, one experiences a profound uplifting of the spirit, so grand is the outlook. As in Hugo’s Les Miserables, we feel we have stared into the face of God. We enjoy this and test it by riding the road twice. It is every bit as uplifting the second time.

stony, icy remoteness, to the area. I imagine how it would be in winter; stark, cold, perhaps fearful but certainly inspiring in its isolation. I reflect that it is little wonder that 170 years ago it was the Scots that went this way, as though it were calling them? We arrive in Dunedin, pretty, tidy, educated and Presbyterian in its nature as it hugs its harbour. We will stay in Dunedin, but have time to ride out to the scenic Otago Peninsula. We’re delighted to continue the Scottish theme as we take the high road out, and return along the low road of the foreshore with its tight little bends and neat houses. I reflect I could live in Dunedin, provided it is February!

The road to Wanaka, via Cardrona pub, is uplifting too. This is a real rider’s road. We race along this, with a different, adrenalin-driven spirit fully alive as we run as smoothly, as quickly, as gravity and the law will allow, laying into the bends and appreciating the guidance of the advisory speed signs which we easily exceed. The choice of road to Dunedin is through Becks and Ranfurly and Middlemarch. We stop for coffee, and are immediately identified by the waitresses for what we are: a bunch of low down, snivelling Aussies that couldn’t win a rugby game if we were given the advantage of an extra five players. We are able to respond with gusto and in kind, particularly if we could have the extra five players. Everyone has a relative near someone. The competitive, disdainful nature of Kiwi humour is appreciated. The cake and coffee are excellent, as we take a thorough drubbing here in the middle of nowhere.

Which, of course, now takes me back to the point along Brighton Beach, where I am singing “Smoke on the Water” loudly, obnoxiously, in my helmet. Our route takes us on to Invercargill, via the beautiful Catlins. The Catlins is another World, quaint, pretty, diverse and with its coastal views and hinterland walks. Previously, I have walked on the beach near Owaka to see the monster Sea Lions bathe in the sun, seemingly oblivious to humanity - until one gets too close for comfort. This is dealt with by sudden, violent movement that sprays sand in all directions.

I am reminded, as we get along past Middlemarch toward Mosgiel, of the West Highland Way of

At Invercargill, we enjoy the thrills and spills of the Burt Munro Festival of Speed and the truck museum

Scotland. There is a beautiful ruggedness, a rocky, 112

Photograph ~ Wayne Rees © 2018

Idyllic Catlin’s “.....another world”


and the motor-cycle museum and the Hammer Hardware shop, and again we cop the teasing of the friendly, unkempt, noisy, rattly Kiwi bikers who recognise our accents and style as soon as we walk into a pub, and we share beers and tell lies of epic motor-cycling adventures to each other. The older we get, the faster we were!

Otago is a special, special region. We enjoyed the people. We enjoyed the food and each night overindulged in the wines, particularly the Pinot Noir ’s. The landscape, in its grandeur, diversity and absolute beauty is to die for, as they say. Indeed, had we died and gone to that heaven called Otago?

Right: Stephen Davies (standing on the left) has owned motor cycles from the time he was old enough to gain a driver’s license. Often adventuring around the world via a motor cycle, his favourite rides include Vietnam, The Balkans, India, Australia and New Zealand. Stephen has written for Australia’s “Riding On” (the publication of the Ulysses Club), and Heavy Duty. On this NZ ride, he rode a BMW F700GS and at home, based in Sydney, rides a BMW R1200GS.

The Aussie contingent at the Burt Munro Festival of Speed....Oreti Beach racing.

Photography ~ Wayne Rees © 2018

“The road to Wanaka, via Cardrona pub, is uplifting too.....”


Photograph ~ Wayne Rees © 2018

Otira Viaduct near Arthur ’s Pass (okay a visual detour to Canterbury) ....spectacular Southern Alps


O t a g o

Through the

Lens of Time 50 Years of Classic Kodachrome Images Text and Photography by

David Green All rights reserved ©

This essay is an excerpt from the archive and story of 400 images titled “Down Kodachrome Lane” illustrating New Zealand's natural & cultural landscapes photographed by David Green between 1960 and 2011. Primarily shot with Kodak Kodachrome, the collection presented here features historic scenes from Otago, and with a few exceptions, date between 1961 and 1980. 116

The English born Robert Strong opened this tiny three roomed vernacular-style building as a shop, workshop and store in 1868. Robert’s son, William (1879-1967), ran the shop until 1959. It was finally gifted to the Maniototo Early Settlers’ Museum in 1975. Hilde McIlvenna, appreciating time... Naseby 2010

Photograph ~ David Green © 2018


Excerpts from

Stirling Moss in his Cooper T55 /Climax 2750cc at the Teretonga Park motor car racetrack, Invercargill, in 1962.

‘Down Kodachrome Lane’ by David Green

1961-63 were important years for colour photography. In January of 1962, Kodachrome II became available in NZ; this was a much improved, faster film with an ASA 25 rating (twice that of earlier films). Kodachrome’s film speed was soon boosted to 32 and 40 ASA, but in 1963 Kodak settled on ASA 25 for daylight film and later introduced ASA 64 (Kodachrome X) as a faster film. The big advantage of the faster film was that amateur photographers could rely on an aperture reading of f5.6 or f8 and a shutter speed of 1/60thsec in good lighting conditions for infinity (landscape) shots, and simply focus, frame, shoot & hope!

It all began in September 1961 when I arrived in New Zealand from Britain to start a secondaryschool teaching career. I had purchased a Yashica Campus 35 mm camera at a Tokyo Airport duty-free store during the chartered 32-hour KLM polar-route flight on a DC8 jet airliner from London to Sydney, completing the journey eventually at the tiny Maniototo township of Ranfurly in Central Otago after a dusty & bumpy bus ride from Palmerston over what was called ‘The Pig Root’.

Camera and Film Kodachrome film, unlike ‘substantive’ film which included an additional dye coupler layer, basically had only the three layers of emulsion (red, green and blue) on the film, the dye coupler being added later during the complicated processing stage. The advantages were a thinner film which did not scatter so much light but was more sensitive, giving better definition, more vivid colour without being garish, deeper dark areas and greater contrast as well as far superior archival qualities. A faster film was also ideal for NZ‘s clear air, strong light conditions, and mountain, bush and lake scenery. In 1974 the processing method was improved to K-14

There were no auto settings on cameras in those days and one had to take light readings with a separate meter, set the aperture ring & shutter speed accordingly and manually focus, not always easy if you were on the end of a rope climbing in the Alps or being attacked by sand flies on the West Coast. The Yashica Campus had rangefinder focusing with a range of 0.8 m to infinity, an aperture range of f/ 2.8 (wide open) to f/22 (pinhole size) and a Copal SV shutter offering speeds from 1 sec to 1/500 sec. The lens was very special and took sharp images - a Yashinon 48mm, f2.8. I think I only once photographed at 1/500 th of a second, capturing 118

Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018

1962: Horsemen riding on the Dansey Pass road near the former Kyeburn gold diggings.


(better dye forming agents & film hardeners) and Kodachrome continued with new versions of the fast (64) and daylight (25) films, the 64 continuing production & processing until 2009, well into the digital photography age. Even now in an age of powerful cell phone digital cameras, there are strong calls for the reappearance of Kodachrome film.

old Iranian (Avestan) identity of paridayda, ‘walled enclosure’, ‘space around’, a perception different from the functional space of an abode. Paridayda (‘paradise’ is the derivative) was a natural place with water, greenery, light and shade, offering psychologically a sense of privacy and a timeless harmony with Nature, the original earthly Garden of Eden. Recently, the marshlands of S. Iraq which were drained by Saddam Hussein in the 1990s to spite the Marsh Arabs who did not support him, have been returned to a special area of biodiversity, Iraq’s first national park. Located between the deltaic distributaries of the Tigris & Euphrates rivers, they are thought to be the original earthly ‘Garden of Eden’. Early maps named the area as Paradise.

Natural landscapes My interest in New Zealand landscape photography stems from a mixture of motives. I certainly enjoy looking for the best photographic composition with good light and colour, particularly as these elements combine to identify environmental location in NZ (deep greens of Fiordland bush, Central Otago contrasts of bright light & deep shadows, blue-grey and violet hues of glacial lakes, Waikato’s rich greenery, aquamarine waters of Kenepuru Sound, Marlborough); however, as a geographer, I also have a keen eye for landform. Having lived in Otago for much of my life, I have taken many of the images from inland Otago and the South Island national parks which are endowed with a wealth of diverse natural landscapes and landforms.

Times and concepts change and a garden became a place to corral animals and grow vegetables. Today, for many urban dwellers it may be little more than a place to park vehicles, build a workshop or mow lawns. Certainly, however, with so many millions of people living in crowded urban environments, a yearning for paradisial space must be close to their hearts.

Apart from an appreciation of scenery, which is sometimes defined as the aggregate of picturesque features in a landscape, there are also distinct psychological aspects to our response to landscape, perhaps stretching back thousands of years to the

Also, and this was very true for me coming to New Zealand in 1961, there was a sense of liberation and adventure, like a dog being let off the lead in a park, becoming a mere dot on a panorama of space, colour, light and shade. The first images of the Continues Page 138 120

Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018

November 1961: A 1948 Ford school bus operating in the Maniototo. This bus and student are returning from the after school Naseby run. Two other buses did the Wedderburn-Gimmerburn and Waipiata-Patearoa runs carrying 50 school children to Ranfurly District High School.


Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018

July/August, 1963: The Remarkables from Queenstown Hill in winter.


Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018

June/July, 1963: Curling at Naseby. Naseby Curling Club held the first Bonspiel at the Naseby rink and won it in 1879. As more and more clubs took part the Bonspiel was subsequently held at the much larger Idaburn Dam.


Photograph ~ David Green © 2018

March, 1963: Late afternoon image of the east-flanking Maniototo Basin hills, Kakanui Range, with its high point, Mt Pisgah at 1,643m. Photo taken from the ‘Kyeburn Straight’ on the ‘Pigroot’ (SH85).


Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018

January, 1963: A distant view of the shadowed dissected foothills of the Ida Range topped with snow. In the foreground broom (Cytisus scoparius), a prolific seeder that spreads rapidly and matures quickly, colonises large areas.


Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018

c. Early 1970s: Clutha Valley just north of Lowburn from the Cromwell-Tarras road. The foot of the terrace is now the shoreline of Lake Dunstan, the reservoir behind Clyde Dam which filled Clutha Valley in 1993.


Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018

Nov-Dec 1963: Upper Manorburn Dam. Built between 1912 and 1916, it is one of the earliest concrete dams constructed to provide irrigation water for the Ida Valley in Central Otago.


Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018

c. 2004: The TSS 'Earnslaw' twin screw steamer, at Walter Peak Station on the western shore of Lake Wakatipu. Built in 1912-1916 in Dunedin, it was transported in pieces to Kingston by rail, assembled and launched on Lake Wakatipu there. The last twin screw, coal-burning steamer still operating in the Southern Hemisphere was used in earlier days for transporting stock and farmers. Now it is popular with tourists and carries around 150,000 people a year around the lake.


Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018

August 1962: Left: The black pall of smoke from TSS Earnslaw returning to Queenstown after several stops around Lake Wakatipu. Right: Patrick Bennetts, captain of the Earnslaw, 1955-64, at the wheel and the first mate at the E.O.T. (engine order telegraph), an instrument for sending calls to the engine-room to power the vessel at certain speeds ahead or astern. Captain Bennetts was a crew member for 30 years and has a bluff on the Glenorchy road (opened in 1962) named after him.


Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018

c. 1978: The summit road at approximately 1,100m, Lammermoor Range, Rocklands Station, Otago.


Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018

Winter, June/July 1980: Taieri Plains frozen floodwater, one of the worst on record, much of this area was under water for 50 days. The view is looking down Marshall Road toward the southern spur of the Maungatua Range. A temporary siding and ramp across the railway gave farmers access to the flood-free highway which runs adjacent to the railway where stock were corralled and fed during the emergency.


Out of the country and into


January, 1962: The tower, spire and nave of the Presbyterian First Church of Otago, designed by Rob Lawson in 1862 and opened in 1873. Built in the Decorated Gothic style using Oamaru stone, its pinnacled buttressing and spire rising to 56.4m, pierced with lancet windows evoke heavenward thoughts.

Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018


Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018

January, 1962: The Anglican St. Paul’s Cathedral Dunedin, consecrated by Bishop Neville in 1919 on a site overlooking the Octagon in the centre of Dunedin. Flying buttresses, large piers and a stone-vaulted ceiling create a monumental look. 133

Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018

February 1962: George St, Dunedin (Festival Week). Arthur Barnett’s building and its famous horse and clock and the State Theatre opposite which was a real identity in Dunedin in those days.


Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018

1970: View of Dunedin CBD from Heriot Row in the evening in snow. About a third of the way down from the top, The Westpac (formerly Trustbank) building on the left, built in 1960 was one of Dunedin’s first high rise buildings. To the right of that First Church Spire. In the centre is the Municipal Chambers Clock Tower, Dunedin Town Hall, St. Pauls Cathedral.


Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018

c. 1990: View across one of the most densely-settled urban housing areas in New Zealand, South Dunedin. Across the harbour on the left are oil and petrol storage tanks and cement works in Ravensbourne. On the right on the hill is the suburb of Waverley on the Otago Peninsula. Reclaimed land in the centre by the harbour is used predominantly for warehousing and industrial retailing.


Photograph ~ David Green Š 2018

September 1962: St Clair & Forbury Park & the sea. Agfacolor CT18 The old hotel can be seen ( now Starfish restaurant) , the surf club (one of oldest in NZ) and Forbury Park has some interesting details especially since the recent death of internationally fanous NZ speedway star, Ivan Mauger, who won 4 national championships there.


From Page 120

Maniototo, Mackenzie Basin, Fiordland and the Southern Alps were for me ones of sheer excitement and wonder, gaping at the vastness and diversity of Nature laid out before me.

realised that they are walking across the crater or down the lava slopes of a former volcano? Landscape photography also stirs musicians and poets. We think of Jean Sibelius' moving 8-minute tone poem, Finlandia, which captures the solemn beauty of the repetitive Finnish lakes and forests. When we gaze at the sky with its incredible variety of coastal and inland cloud formations in New Zealand Percy Shelley's The Cloud springs to mind.

What’s more it was a private space - you could walk on a beach and not see a soul or drive for hours on inland unsealed roads without coming across another vehicle. Before the days of scenic flights or virtual reality, the landscape simply unfolded like a child’s pop-up book before your eyes as you climbed a spur, straddled the summit of a hill or came upon a clearing in the bush.

The Cloud ( final stanza)

This undoubtedly remains an important part of the immense attraction New Zealand has as a tourist venue. Although tourism is now an eclectic package of sight-seeing, energetic and extreme activities, vineyard lunch venues and souvenirs, and roads are now populated by campervans and 4-wheel vehicles heading to Queenstown, Mt Cook, Milford Sound or the West Coast, there are still many places off the tourist routes with stunning landscape scenery and few visitors.

“I am the daughter of earth and water And the nursling of the Sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and the shores, I change, but I cannot die, For after the rain with never a stain The pavilion of heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air. I silently laugh at my own cenotaph And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb

How many people, for instance, have been over the Dansey Pass from Naseby to Duntroon, or have even walked along the southern end of Dunedin’s Green Island Bush Road, just 15 minutes drive from the centre of the city, with its incredible views of coastal scenery and former volcanic peaks or have

I arise and unbuild it again” From Percy Bysshe Shelley’s “The Cloud”


Cultural Features and Changes Over Time 1961 to present

the size of pastoral lease acreage to high country stations, which nowadays often supplement their traditional income from beef and wool with bed & breakfast accommodation or provide wedding & events venues and tourist ventures.

New Zealand’s traditional farm-scape of sheep farming in the high country, dairy farming in coastal areas was for countless years the norm, but modern irrigation methods have made considerable changes to land use in many inland areas, not least the dry areas of the southern Maniototo (Patearoa – Gimmerburn area) where it was said in the early 1960s that farmers could get away with ‘farming from the front window’.

The full collection of Down Kodachrome Lane   covers a wide range of subject matter from farming, forestry, power development, ports, roads, tunnels, bridges and city-scapes to reminders of gold-mining days and architectural details from Heritage NZ listed buildings.   The landscape photos, many from our national parks, are perhaps the highlight of the collection, the text indicating their geological and morphological nature and origin. The glacial images, for example, from the Aoraki / Mt Cook National Park taken in the 1960s and 70s show the full splendour of the snow and ice, before fast-accelerating glacial retreat over the last 25 years has left us with bare rocky walls, long grey scree slopes and the creation of pro-glacial lakes in areas of former dead ice and moraine.

Since the building of the Loganburn Dam and the establishment of water races in 1984, irrigation has provided farmers with a regular source of water through the increasingly hot and dry months of summer. The story is the same for orchardists, viticulturists and dairy farmers in a lot of dry areas, and although the increased use of fertilizers as a result of more intense farming operations has brought about the leaching of waterways, an issue needing attention as part of the ‘climate change’ problems facing New Zealand, productivity rate increases and the security for farmers of a regular water supply have brought new life to numerous inland communities.

Originally from Oxford, England, David Green graduated from the Universities of Exeter and South Wales with specialist subjects in geography, economics and British archeology. During a ten year return to his home city in 1993-2003, his interests widened to history, heritage and education, authoring “In the wake of Ambrosius”, and “The Eleven-plus Adventure”. His research continues and he has recently completed “The Budding Geologist” and “An Introduction to Climate Change”, as well as archiving and setting up “Down Kodachrome Lane” in book format.

In the high country the Government has been increasing the amount of land declared suitable for conservation/recreational use only, thereby reducing 139

Last year, I came across an extraordinary photo of an early 20th century woman charging an electric car. Upon further investigation, I discovered that there was a fascinating history of women driving electric vehicles at the turn of the nineteenth to twentieth century. This period of time was not only tied to the drive (pun intended) for women’s emancipation, but these women also influenced innovations in car design.

Ms Daisy Drives Herself Clara Ford, the Model T and “Miladies Electric”

By Pam McKinlay

Most Images supplied by author and all are Public Domain


Studio photograph – woman charging an electric car c.1905


Introducing Miss Daisy Ms Daisy may resonate with readers as the independent Miss Daisy (Werthan) of the “Driving Miss Daisy” (1989) film or the companion driving service franchise we see around town for anyone who is unable to drive. The Miss Daisy in my title was Ms Daisy Post, one of the first women to drive an electric car in America. Shifting from the passenger to driver’s seat, as early as 1898, Daisy Post challenged notions of female propriety as she took the wheel. Driving gave women freedom and independence.

Internal Combustion Engine: 1910 Model T Ford, Salt Lake City, Utah. The photograph is for an advertisement, and taken by Harry Shipler of Shipler Commercial Photographers in 1910


At the beginning of the 20th century, combustion engine vehicles were not only open to the elements but also noisy, smelly, shaky and unreliable. Electric vehicles were different. They were clean and comfortable. Clara Ford, wife of automobile magnate Henry Ford, famously didn’t drive the Model T, but drove a Detroit Electric instead. Interestingly the first electric vehicle that Henry bought for Clara in 1908 came with a special child seat. While some argue that Clara refused to drive the Model T, it’s possible it was Henry’s choice as he subscribed to the ‘separate spheres for men and women’ ideology, and Clara was his “angel of the home”.

Although targeted to women, electric cars were also seen as having sartorial benefits to doctors, bankers and other professional men who required similar protections as the Victorian ladies in terms of costume maintenance when going out and about town. They were advertised as Electric Sensations for Men. Baker Electrics marketed themselves as the Aristocrats of Motordom, and a reliable vehicle for business men for whom time was money. As the electric car became more and more associated with women, EVs were eschewed by men despite their reliability and cleanliness. They were classy but not masculine enough. To counter this, fake parts such as imitation radiators were put on “men’s electrics” to disguise them, and vehicles with lowered suspension were designed for men as sporty options.

Other wives of American movers and shakers at that time also drove electric vehicles, including the Rockefellers and Mina Edison. Naturally, Mina’s car was powered by Edison batteries and Helen Joy, wife of the president of the Packard Motor Car Company drove a Detroit Electric as well. “A car charged with electricity can be driven by a child. There is practically nothing to go out of order or to go wrong. A hard-working goblin has been imprisoned in the accumulators, and for the number of miles which he is condemned to serve the car is bound to run. Nothing is easier than to drive a properly-made electric motor car.” Otago Daily Times, 25 June 1900



Parlour away from Home Many early electrics were custom made by luxury carriage makers in France, UK and Germany. America followed the Europeans taking note of female “needs” from the inside out with a focus on nice upholstery and paint, including custom monogramed interiors, velvet seats, onboard lighting, luxury heating, cut-glass vases and built in vanity cases. Another nod to the refinement in electric vehicle design was through the first use of curved window glass in a production automobile, an expensive and complex feature to produce. “These were women’s shopping cars,” says Jay Leno, who has a collection of vintage and classic cars. “There were thousands of these in New York, from about 1905 to 1915. There were charging stations all over town, so ladies could recharge their cars while they were in the stores.” [My Classic Car TV – Jay Leno’s Garage from 3:06 min of 13.43min]. “One does not so much enter the Baker as climb it. Once inside, it’s apparent that the designers were less intent on building a vehicle than they were in creating an ornate mobile parlor. Every surface is covered in expensive fabric or carpet, and the doors have braided cords, tassels and embroidered straps. Plump button-tucked bench seats, front and rear, face each other, as they would in the booth of a Victorian tea room. The driver sits on the left of the rear bench. If there are passengers in the front seat, the driver has to look around them to steer. There is no steering wheel. At first glance there are few indications that the Baker was meant to be driven at all. A long steering tiller folds down from the left once the driver is seated; the driver pushes forward to steer left and pulls back to go right.” Dexter Ford, Back to the Future in a 98-Year-Old Electric Car, interview with Jay Leno, Aug. 5, 2007, New York Times. 145

Women driving petrol powered cars had to dress for duress not style, writes Virginia Scharff. “Girded in corsets and petticoats and forty pounds of underskirts and overskirts, cloak and formidable hat, she is clad for immobility”.

Focus on Fashion

“The turn of the century motorist getting ready for a ride in a merry Oldsmobile had her work Fashion and the motoring phenomenon of the time went hand in hand. Advertising for EVs touted the benefits of not needing shapeless, style-less coveralls for motoring if one drove an electric car. As more women got behind the wheel, new clothing designs suitable for the comfortable electrics appeared in Home Journals and leading newspapers for fashionable female drivers, “Miladies of the Electric.”

cut out for her… First, the duster, or motoring coat. It might be made of leather or rubber or fur; in all cases it was hot and heavy, adding yet more poundage to her already heavily freighted body. Then there were a host of devices to protect face, eyes, hair and hat. These ranged from simple if cumbersome, goggles and heavy veils to more elaborate contraptions. On rainy days, the motoring woman might choose a

The driver of an electric car was thought to be a well-behaved and well-dressed society woman. She could simply dress to impress and drive to lunch, to shop, or to visit friends without fear of soiling her gloves, mussing her hair or clothes, or as Jay Leno muses, setting their dresses on fire.

waterproof rubber hood and shoulder cape, looking rather like someone who planned to take a shower with all her clothes on. An all-weather motoring mask for women approximated a large bucket inverted over her head. Made of mica with a translucent linen veil, it closely resembled

This was in stark contrast to the new lines of leisure clothing, which were considered necessities for the “New Woman” motorist driving a gasoline car, that covered street wear and provided protection from the elements when driving in open vehicles. These designs were for function not fashion.

the protective head covering worn by modern workers who handle plutonium. (Virginia Scharff 15-16) Virginia Scharff author of "Taking the Wheel: Women and the Coming of the Motor Age", 1991.


“Miladies Electric” fashions c.1916


The March of “Progress� personified as a woman on the wheel of invention communicating by the power of electricity.


Battle of the powers - steam, gas, electric and hay

this was the case for many drivers regardless of gender, but women faced extra hurdles to attain a “permit”.

Aside from public transportation, other options for getting about at that time were horses (the most popular), bicycles, steam, gasoline and electric powered vehicles.

Coal or steam, used for powering trains, was a tried and true energy source, but it wasn’t practical for small vehicles. Steam vehicles required up to 45 minutes to start.

From the late 1890s and on into the early 1900s, electric car advocates extolled the virtues of electric propulsion over other modes of transport such as the horse and carriage. An EV could instantly be called up from the garage without the time consuming care of horses, they consumed less fuel (hay), never ran away and were much cleaner. The electric starter required no cranking and the driving system had no difficult gears to engage.

This left the last two contenders - petrol and electricity. We know in hindsight how this story played on throughout the twentieth century, but in the early days gasoline engines also had their faults. They required manual strength and more technical know how to drive. Kickbacks from cranking caused bruising, broken thumbs and roadside injuries abounded with the need to restart stalled engines in congested traffic. At the outset, they also required 10 – 45 minutes daily oiling to keep the myriad of parts “in motion” as the oil ran straight through the engine in the earliest models.

By 1910, all forms of automobiles were becoming “necessities” and the old "hay motors” were on their way out. Around the early 1900s, 40 percent of automobiles in America were powered by steam, 38 percent by electricity, and 22 percent by gasoline. A total of 33,842 electric cars were registered in the United States. Women drivers were conspicuous by their gender as drivers and some, as writers in the Horseless Age observed, were driving without the correct permits. Similarly, in 1900 the Chicago City Engineer complained that women were not even bothering to get their license. It should be noted that

Paper Past Sun, Volume V, Issue 1477, 6 November 1918


At the end of the 19th century, a fleet of electric cabs was introduced to the streets of London. They were nicknamed "Hummingbirds" due to the humming noise they made. By 1899 ninety percent of New York City’s taxi cabs were electric vehicles. In December, 1889, the Electric Vehicle Company operated 2,000 electric vehicles. (Virginia Scharff - 49)


Te c h n o l o g y o u t s i d e o f t h e c a r

Privileged women thus ensconced in their electrics, could freely move about in public spaces, protected from the dangers and irritations of driving by gasoline and the privations of public transport. Women without their own cars, would wait for an electric taxi over a gasoline or steam powered one for the benefits of the clean smooth ride. But they would take any taxi over public transport, if they could afford it, to avoid the press of random and sweaty bodies and impropriety where crowding was, as The Society for the Protection of Passenger Rights in New York City said in 1907, “to the point of indecency”. The Los Angeles Record noted that “the air inside a street car was pestilent, cramped and a place of immoral contact”.

A limiting factor for all wheeled vehicles and carriages before 1920 were poor road conditions. Early model vehicles sat high off the road to avoid surface hazards caused by inclement weather and by-products of horse power. In towns and cities roads were made from dirt, cobblestone, asphalt and sometimes wood, for example Detroit’s toll plankroads. But beyond urban boundaries, travel by wheel was a seasonal option with roads often impassable for any vehicle in winter. Urban infrastructure changed quite quickly once the demand of light bulbs drove the installation for electricity that could reach every home and be available to the general public. The uptake of the electric car was literally tied to the uptake of the electric lightbulb. Other electrical home conveniences soon followed with advances in the electric cooker, kettle and heating.

(Virginia Scharff 5-7)

Dunedin too was keen to show it was progressive with discussions around its uses for excess power generation from Waipori Power Station. This is not so different to current discussions around peak energy generation, storage and distribution. It is also clear from newspaper reports from Tuatapere to Wanganui, that New Zealand was on the radar for international technological innovations

The chauffeur sits at the rear of this German electric car, 1904


In the 1910s American representatives from Edison and other battery makers made regular visits to New Zealand.

Women and technology At the dawn of the 20th century, despite personifying technological progress herself (in the person of Techne and Progress) Victorian attitudes were that there was a proper place and role for women in society. Women wishing to drive or heaven forbid vote faced an uphill battle. According to Victorian values women were intended to be the “angels of the house.”

Sun, Volume V, Issue 1477, 6 November 1918

"Do it electrically." .. It is. in fact, fast becoming a reality in the most comprehensive meaning of the term, in so far as it relates to the daily work of our lives. Already that wonderful force, generated in the grey power-house on the banks of the Rakaia River is lighting our homes and city streets, turning the giant wheels of industry, cooking our food, and driving our vehicles...You know, too, that our city is fast becoming a (clean, "smokeless" city land [and that we are saving from tons of coal annually]! … But there is another fact that you are perhaps not quite so well acquainted with, namely, the value of the electric vehicle, the electric motor truck, the electric pleasure car. Business before pleasure, of course, but, honestly, if you haven't had a ride in an electric motor car you've missed something worth- while. Really, there isn't anything else like it, because not the most perfectly-equipped petrol-driven car that ever came out of the big motor works of Europe and America can at all compare, in the matter of easy, "soundless" running, with the Electric, car, especially when the latter is equipped with the Edison Storage Battery.

Female “auto-mobility” was seen as a threat to the order of things. As Elizabeth Frost-Knappman and Kathryn Cullen-Du Pont write in Women’s Suffrage in America (p279). A woman’s brain evolves emotion rather than intellect; and whilst this feature fits her admirably as a creature burdened with the preservation and happiness of the human species, it painfully disqualifies her for the sterner duties to be performed by the intellectual faculties. As more women got behind the wheel tensions persisted. It was argued that women’s temperament couldn’t cope with the stress and duress of driving, including quick decision making, therefore if they must drive they needed to go slower. Women were thought to be “foolhardy, impulsive, timid, and

(excerpt Sun, Volume V, Issue 1477, 6 November 1918)


Motoring column in the Motor Age October 23, 1913


mechanically disinclined” .

considerate of female comfort, frailty, fashion and vanity, and as practical protectors of long skirts from puddles and poo.

Some of the perceived limitations of urban electric cars were range and less power than gasoline powered cars (although the first land speed record was set in an electric car) and they were therefore seen as being advantageous and a practical compromise for women who insisted on driving. Electrics were seen as being best suited for running errands around town and thus a way to keep women confined within the Victorian female sphere.

The beginning of the 20th century was also the time when two car families entered the market place for those that could afford such. “His” for rugged long range, speeding and adventuring, and “hers” for the city runabout with the children. Possibly, one of the more interesting arguments FOR women driving was a reconciliation of driving with modern motherhood and the fashionable practice of healthy young children needing fresh air. The modern continuum to this tale has seen mothers become chauffeur mothers.

Under the headline “MORE COMFORTS FOR WOMEN IN AUTOS; Manufacturers Have Studied the Many Details for Women's Demands in the 1911 Models” , Charles Duryea, engineer of the first-ever working American gasoline-powered car and New York Times technical correspondent, wrote in 1910, “it has simply been assumed that women would not drive, and so long as the tonneau was roomy, comfortable, and well enclosed her needs were supposed to be well met”.

“In no way can a child get so much air in so little time as by the use of the automobile… It is the light electric runabout which deserves the title of scientific perambulator.” C.H. Claudy Woman’s Home Companion, 1907 Quoted by Virginia Scharff, Femininity and the Electric Car However, while the car was instrumental in the campaign for women’s emancipation in America, it was the longer-range gasoline powered cars, that early suffragists commandeered for their “auto tours”. Driving these cars on open roads was revolutionary and enabled them to hold open air meetings in areas where residents might not otherwise “hear the call” for equality and freedom.

Two of the modern virtues we take for granted in contemporary cars are thanks to early women drivers of electric cars. The electric self-starter brought about the end to that “long tolerated but needless producer of perspiration, profanity and pernicious contusions” when this was adopted as a concession to female convenience. And the other was enclosed cars - another gallant design gesture 154

What does the future hold?

vehicle that best suits the purpose of that journey. This will include greater investment in public transportation that works in the public interest. The future envisioned at the 1939 New York fair of self-driving vehicles is also emerging as a possibility.

The exceptional personal freedom and independence driving has given us has had a marked influence on shaping our daily lives and urban planning. Cost is still a factor in car ownership. Owning a car and the type of car that you drive has always been a matter of what you can afford to buy, maintain and run. Owning an imported used EV in New Zealand has a high upfront cost in the region of $20,000 on average, but the maintenance and running costs are negligible.

We look into the past as we two-step into the future. When we think of electric vehicles we think of them as a modern and near futuristic technology, but thousands of electric cars were in operation in towns and cities at the turn of the twentieth century. In America, it was women who drove most of them which had a detrimental effect on sales with men who felt that they were less manly.

Perversely those that can afford one pay the least to run them. Many younger people are opting to not own a motor vehicle, preferring instead to use other modes of transport or use mobility services such as Uber. Internationally, e-car share schemes are becoming apropos, with people subscribing or buying a share in a group of cars that they collectively own and book or access via an app or swipe card and pay for the use by the hour. An example in New Zealand is YooGoShare now operating in Christchurch. Research has shown that for each vehicle in an e-car share scheme, typically, ten are removed from the road.

Fast forward to 2018: A Flip the Fleet report finds that although the early adopters of modern EVs have primarily been men, women are catching up. The report also suggests that, for some, attitudes haven’t changed much in a hundred years as the car is still tied to their notions of masculine identity. Some men may feel that buying an electric vehicle will harm their macho image – the powerful thrum and explosions of an internal combustion engine are apparently more manly than the quiet, powerful serenity of an electric engine, more likely to appeal to women.

Currently, urban planning is designed around moving cars from place to place (with us in them). In the near future we need to consider how we move people, not cars, with transport taken in the 155


With one responder adding: “I go to the farmer’s market almost every weekend and promote EVs. Typically, you will have Mum, Dad and the kids visit our booth. The kids get it… they plug in their phone, computer, headphones so why would you not plug in your car? Mum gets it: she wants a car that is safe, practical and saves money. Dad rarely, if ever, gets it. No noise, no smell, no oil, no mess – how can this be good? The dad is 97.5% likely to be the dinosaur.”

What does the new electric woman wear in 2018? Anything and everything. In the example below the choice for this day is casual-active Mum-wear.

Overall, the automobile industry is already well equipped to deal with the fear of silence. For years there have been those who have had the desire to make their Toyota Corolla sound like a Maserati by adding a fake engine roar to exaggerate their motor noise through a speaker in the cabin. For myself, I prefer the natural “hummingbird” sound of an EV and look forward to electricity driving the wheel of “Progress” as she drives forward at the Dawn of this new century! Pam McKinlay is an EV-eryday woman. She has a DipHSc in Textile Science, Clothing & Design and BA in Art History and History from the University of Otago. She works part-time at Otago Polytechnic on websites and is an artist who works predominantly with research data with art outcomes in sculpture, weaving & ceramics

Leading the Charge Annual Road Trip Cape Reinga to Bluff, 2018 tour as it passed through Dunedin. Leaning against Hagen Bruggeman’s Honda Insight electric conversion are from left Dee West (Charge Net NZ), Pam McKinlay (Coconvenor Dunedin EV Group), Chelsea Sexton (Chelsea Sexton, electric car advocate and advisor, most notable for her role as a key expert in the documentary, Who Killed the Electric Car.)

This article is based on a talk delivered under the theme Women in Technology during TechWeek 2018 in Dunedin at the Otago Pioneer Women’s Memorial Hall. The talk was also an event for Suffrage125. Suffrage125 celebrations are occurring throughout the year to celebrate the 125th anniversary when women voted for the first time in a national election in Aotearoa New Zealand on 18 September, 1893.


The Baker Motor Vehicle Company 15 May, 1911 Country Life in America


Gifts in the Garden


Geranium by

Francisca Griffin 158

Photograph ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018




diuretic, deodorant, haemostatic (slows bleeding), styptic (stops bleeding), tonic, vermifuge (worms!), vulnerary (circulation). So, it is wonderful in any skin cream, whether it be for oily skin, broken skin, acne-ed skin, or lovely older people’s skin. It is one of the safer oils, just be sure to dilute it with a carrier oil for your skin, or you can put it undiluted into a diffuser, or, pop a big vase of the fresh plant anywhere in your house to lift your mood.

known as both Pelargonium roseum and Pelargonium graveolens Technically, Rose Geranium, and all other scented geraniums are actually Pelargonuims, of which there are more than 700 varieties. The ornamental ones we see on windowsills & doorsteps are Geraniums. But we call them all Geraniums, so that's me being botanical! However, one must make these distinctions when we are speaking of a plant's healing & beneficial qualities.

You could make bath milk; do a Cleopatra! Any powdered milk will do - cow’s or coconut are easy to find. Mix together thoroughly 200 grams of powdered milk 50 each of baking soda and cornstarch. Add 20 drops of Rose Geranium essential oil and shake. Put this in an airtight jar.

The English grew Rose Geranium outside their doors to fend off evil spirits, and it was probably good at keeping flies out too. It was also used as a strewing herb - that is it would have been tossed on the floor with other herbs to keep the house fresh, and rodents and flies away.

Or if you have the plant in your garden use that. You will need to dry it first - this is where a dehydrator comes in quite handy, your Rose Geranium will dry quickly with no loss of colour - and more importantly - no loss of its delicious scent. Layer with your milk mixture in a wide mouth jar and leave in a dry warm dark place for at least a month. Using a quarter cup or so per bath will help to soothe skin irritations and will engender a calm and relaxed state.

It is attractive to bees, so is a handy addition to your vegetable garden, or if you have an apiary. The essential oil is used for the nervous system, for babies, children and adults. It is also a reproductive system tonic for women, it will help with the balancing of hormones. It is anti-depressant, antiseptic, astringent, cicatrisant (skin healing/ regenerating) cytophylactic (skin cell regenerating),

It makes a delightful addition to apple jelly, add a few small leaves when you are bottling, the jelly will absorb the rose scent. 160

The plant is super easy to strike from cuttings, cut a shortish stalk, take off all but leaves on the tip and leave it to dry for a day. Then plant it into a wee pot with a 60% compost and 40% fine gravel mix, keep it on the dry side of moist and before you know it, a plant will be overtaking that pot, ready to go into the garden or a bigger pot Francisca Griffin has been practicing Naturopathy from her home based clinic in Port Chalmers for 15 years.

francisca@beinghealthy.co.nz http://www.beinghealthy.co.nz/ Being Healthy Naturally Wordpress

Important: Always check with an expert if you are not sure about identifying any plant accurately. Botanicals can have varying characteristics at different times of the year and growth, & look different in varied light. The Rose Geraniums on these pages were photographed at the end of autumn in both sunlight and overcast conditions. 161

Photograph ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018

Winter Light Dunedin ~ Otago Boys High School and surrounding area


Photograph ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018

Winter Light Hereweka


w w w.d ow ni ne di n m a ga zi n e. co m

Photograph ~ Caroline Davies Š 2018

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Down In Edin Issue13  

Arts, Culture and Lifestyle of Dunedin and Otago in the South Island of New Zealand. Literature, Poetry, Music, Art, Photography, and Natura...

Down In Edin Issue13  

Arts, Culture and Lifestyle of Dunedin and Otago in the South Island of New Zealand. Literature, Poetry, Music, Art, Photography, and Natura...