Protest was my introduction to art. For me, resistance has always been natural. Growing up, my world was shaped by the defining movements of Aotearoa: Bastion Point, the Springbok tour, Homosexual Law Reform, and the bombing of the Rainbow Warrior. Today, the legacy of resistance continues through the hīkoi of our minority groups, our teachers, nurses, and firefighters.
As a gay Māori man, I have come to realise that simply getting out of bed every morning and existing authentically is political resistance. It is easy to become cynical in this landscape. Joy is the sunlight that cures my cynicism.★☆★In my practice, I deliberately shift the focus away from the oppressor. I have no desire to create banners that feed the accused or highlight the harmers; they hold no power or mana in my universe. Instead, my art is a direct conversation with the crowd, the other hopers and dreamers, people walking the walk.★☆★I want my banners to trigger a spark of joyous understanding on the hīkoi towards peace, unity, and resilience—to turn protests into celebrations. Whether I am responding to the historic pacifist visions of Rita Angus during my residency at her cottage, or collaborating with community groups like Tū Tangata, Hei Whakapiki Mauri, and Disability Canterbury to craft vibrant, wordless banners, my objective remains the same.★☆★I lean into our pūrākau, our natural world, and symbols that say, ‘We belong.’ Aroha is at the centre of everything. I choose to be part of the flow of mauri energy and collective aroha. That is what truly wins the day.
