Riley notes that Gardener is 'a nod to ahi kā—the hau kāinga who remain on ancestral lands and keep our hapū/iwi-based kōrero alive. I'm particularly thinking of a cousin who is trying to revive and maintain tūpuna varieties of taro.' Similarly, Fisher recognises skills that have been threatened but still can be remembered and reclaimed. Riley's first figurative sculptures were made in Japan, where she carved gender-neutral bodhisattva. Today, she generally makes her figures genderless, so that viewers can project themselves onto them. However, there are exceptions. She recently created a series of self-portrait karetao (puppets) that asserted her role as a carver—one that some deem inappropriate for a wahine. The work Lovers is intended to be read as a takatāpui couple, evoking 'ancestral pūrākau of us in our natural state' and counteracting the homophobia that has seeped into postcolonial Māoridom. In Tūrehu, Riley makes reference to her whakapapa, which includes tūrehu (fairy folk). The tail of the figure acknowledges her great-great-great-grandfather, Patana, who kept ngārara the size of Komodo dragons. Upon his passing, the ngārara guarded his body while they performed their tangihanga. Only once they had finished mourning did they release him to his human whānau. The blue in the work evokes the earthen pigment pukepoto, as well as the place of that name (near Kaitaia), the papa kāinga of the artist's tupu (grandfather). [Once Were Gardeners is presented alongside Songs to the Suns by Richard McWhannell.]