This is the first year we have spent almost all of the winter in Aotearoa New Zealand and what an experience!
Having moved to Aotearoa from the UK (London and Shetland) two and a bit years ago, and, with the first winter being extremely mild and having been away last year for midwinter, our experience of the cold season was, to say the least, unrealistic. This year the cooler temperatures started early and have continued to build.
It is spectacular, the winter in New Zealand. All around Māwhera Greymouth the mountains suddenly appear closer and larger because of their coatings of snow. It is windy today and overcast, but the normal pattern is for cold mornings that warm up in the late morning and afternoon before cooling again. Against the blue of the Southern sky, a different light to that of Shetland, the ranges look like cutouts for staged performances. At this time of year a visit to the mountains is essential to see the spectacle. They are grounding, these trips. The grandiose landscape lends itself to romantic ideas of permanence and fragility, and there is always the chance that the latest round of bad weather has brought down plants and small trees from roadside edges to be claimed and replanted in the gardens in town.
Downstairs from the studio in the Regent Theatre, a new studio space is taking shape. This one is in a double-fronted shop that faces onto the main street of town. It is where the textile studio is going to be. It is a large, airy and light space, half-divided by a partition wall, and has a storeroom at the back with a kitchen and bathroom. It is an Ideal Spot for a studio because there is enough space for workshops, running water for dyeing and printing, and plenty of natural light for working, designing, and art. It is accessible and people can peer through the windows to see what is happening. There is a tabletop loom already set-up for visitors to try and I am currently putting an old model AVL 16 shaft loom together. This will be a sampling loom and should be in operation in the near future.
Over the next few months the new studio will be gradually filled. The equipment from Shetland will be coming out soon and will be installed, and the library and textile collection will be coming down from the upstairs space to be stored prior to cataloguing and photographing. It is an exciting prospect, reinventing the textile studio for Southern climes, and A Good Thing to be doing in the warmth while outside the wind blows.
And what of the snow? How does that fit into the story? Well, having learned how to create cloths based on the land, seas and skies of Shetland, it has taken a while to understand how the landscape of Aotearoa New Zealand could be similarly translated. The overwhelming sense in this part of the country is of green. The lushness of the forest and the fecundity of the bush seems to present an endless sea of pastoral and grassy hues: olive and pea, bottle and emerald. In the vastness of the landscape the other colours are mostly lost. The flowers of native plants are generally not dominant, and the berries of native plants, beautiful as they are, tend to be small. In spite of the soft yellow of kōwhai, the reds and white of kākābeak and the various shades and tones of harakeke, most of the bush is green, and the sheer scale of the land offers additional challenges. Yet, in this season of cold and snow, the hues have all changed. With the grey and brown of the mountain slopes, and the deep blue shadows that steep-sided canyons cast, the contrast with the snow has opened up a whole new palette and a whole new dimension to viewing the land, sea and sky. Suddenly there are more colours and even the finest hint of fiery red of mānuka flowering is almost startling in its intensity. It is nearly time to start designing and making a cloth based on the Coast!
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