this is what I think of
images
small vignettes
reflections
colour
a split second
May 2010. Ajr
Observations of Life in New Zealand (and sometimes beyond) through art, architecture, photography, travel, tourism, design, food, the quirky, the bizarre, the comedic - a few of the things I am passionate about. This is my world - a world of contemplations, observations and small adventures.
The Hilton Lake Taupo has recently been named Best New Hotel in the World - a wonderful accolade for a terrific hotel that blends old and new.
Large, amazingly well-priced, modern apartments have sprung up beside the original heritage building, which began life as the Terraces Hotel in 1889. It's had a number of revamps in recent years but it reaches maturity under Hilton management. That unmistakeable 'Hilton chic' now hovers over every space and suites and apartments have big balconies and either wide lake views, or more intimate views over the thermal valley and Taupo Hot Springs Spa below and to the rear of the hotel. It's located to the south of Taupo township on the Napier-Taupo Highway and as an aside, the bathrooms are divine. www.laketaupohilton.com
I physically file my digital images by subject and/or location.
But in my head they seem to group themselves according to colour.
Tuesday, October 19th was the official beginning of the demolition of Manchester Courts in Christchurch. The sun shone, the skies were blue and city nerves were on edge, just hours after another after-shock measuring 5 on the Richter scale - shallow and close to the city, which made it seem all the stronger. But that didn't stop people gathering to watch the first stages of this unique heritage building's demolition. Some had even set up their folding deck chairs on Manchester Street - a little early as far as I could see because there wasn't a lot happening.
For the better part of the last week, a continuous stream of lorries has been dumping dirt on the road to create the 8-metre high bund necessary to give the cranes the height they'll need to access the top levels of the building. Streets are fenced off for at least a block , complete with barbed wire to keep sticky-beaks, protesters and other sundry opportunists out; and police are making regular on-foot patrols. Shipping containers have been stacked three and four high along a part of Hereford Street to protect other buildings and pedestrians from any falling debris and even yesterday, the truck loads of dirt continue to pile in.
The demolition is expected to take around six weeks, although once started, I suspect things will move quickly - not that you'd guess that from the relaxed approach being taken by demolition workers yesterday afternoon (see below).
I spoke with a young German tourist who was also watching proceedings. She hadn't been thrilled by the big after-shock earlier but she did think Manchester Courts had "architectural merit." "But if they are demolishing it, why not a bomb?" she asked - with a perfectly straight face. "It would be quicker and maybe not so many people would hang around."
Years (and years) ago, when I was working as a journalist for the Wairarapa Times Age in Masterton, I had a huge rural beat that covered every corner of the Wairarapa province. One of my early jobs there, was to travel down to Wharekauhau Lodge and interview the Shaw family who established it. That was way back before it became what it is today. The lodge was then located in the family homestead and still had a number of years to run before it brought in partners and developed into the luxury retreat (above) it is now.
I stayed at Wharekauhau in July (this was my room, photographed before I messed it up) during my Frommer's travel guide road trip and, coming at the tail end of my journey, it was a very welcome slump into total indolence and self-indulgence. Quite apart from the oh-so comfortable suites and the on-call treats, the landscape lends itself to rest and recuperation.
Wharekauhau nestles into a sheltered spot on a grassy plateau above the pounding seas of Palliser Bay, at the bottom of the North Island. When you travel down Western Lake Road passed Lake Wairarapa, it feels like you're heading for the bottom of the world - that's as it should be for a retreat but I often wonder what foreign guests think as the roads get skinnier and the landscape wilder the further south they go. It's part of a 5,500 acre working farm - one of the oldest Romney studs in New Zealand in fact, dating back to the mid-1800s; and guests willing to pay a bit extra, can get a guided tour of the property - that's especially popular in spring when 16,000-20,000 new lambs appear in the pastures, or in autumn, when the entire flock is mustered in for shearing.
The lodge itself is a sublime spot. There's the main lodge building, built along the lines of a fine Edwardian country mansion, where you can dine in style and throw yourself down into mountains of cushions in the grand living rooms. There's a stunning heated pool complex, tennis courts and clusters of 'cottages' set apart from the central building, giving guests fabulous views over the bay - and privacy from each other.
Wharepapa Cottage is further away - a private three bedroom holiday house; and Chateau Wellington sits just above the main lodge - a sumptuous 4,500 square foot, 3-bedroomed retreat that offers the ultimate in privacy and luxury for those who crave an escape with benefits. It was occupied by a group from Wellington when I was there - they'd all come over for a friend's 60th birthday party, hosted in the main dining room of the lodge and they all slipped quietly into the rural silence in the late afternoon, never to be seen again by other guests.
For endangered, Fea continues on from a major body of work she completed in 2009 - work that referred to the fragile nature of much of the New Zealand landscape. Now her vessels also allude to the endangered flora and fauna that inhabits that fragile and threatened landscape.
Liz Fea is relatively new to the ancient joys and caprices of ceramics. She graduated from the Otago Polytechnic School of Art just last year with a Bachelor of Visual Arts and a Diploma in Ceramic Art and says the works in this exhibition are "highly experimental" and made to convey a sense of fun, at the same time drawing attention to the fragility of our land. The show continues at Quadrant gallery in Dunedin until october 30, 2010. All images supplied.
I took these photographs one misty morning in South Wairarapa on my recent trip around New Zealand researching the 1st edition of the all-new, full colour Frommers New Zealand Day by Day 1st Edition, which will be published in 2011. I'd been staying in the far south and left early, to take the winding drive around Lake Wairarapa on my way to Wellington.
I'm not quite sure what it is about trees that evokes such a strong emotion and aesthetic response in me. It's always been that way regardless of the creative medium I choose - some element of the tree is invariably present. It's as if my creative psyche is somehow entangled in the branches and leaves. I always feel them 'almost human' somehow, imbued with a presence. I don't suppose I'm alone in that, after all, many ancient civilisations worshipped trees and for many, Maori for instance, the tree is still culturally important. And then there are the literary greats and their passion for trees:
"I never knew how soothing trees are - many trees and patches of open sunlight, and tree-presences - it is almost like having another being." D.H. Lawrence.
It's Sunday, which always seems like a fair and reasonable time to be thinking about church architecture. And in lieu of the 7.1 earthquake that struck Christchurch and Canterbury on September 4th, there's certainly plenty to think about in that regard. Sadly, some of the province's oldest and loveliest churches have been struck the hardest and as you drive around the inner city, you'll see church after church braced against further damage.
This is just a tiny sample of the cracks and crumblings that have rendered many of the churches unuseable - at least for now. I'm assuming the fact that they have been braced means they're up for restoration (and, one would hope, earthquake strengthening) but given the number of buildings in this state around the city, I'd say the pews will be empty for a long time yet.
The cranes were brought in to assist this old Merivale beauty (above). In the days soon after the quake, the steeple was considered in too precarious a state to leave in situ, so it was carefully lifted off by a big brute of a crane and daintily placed to the side of the church until the quakes stop and all can be made 'habitable' again. I've always had a strong interest in church architecture (click on Churches in the index line below this blog), so seeing these buildings so uniformly 'struck down' has been a sad experience. I haven't had a chance (until now) to go around the city photographing them so I've missed some of the immediate damage (now tidied up); but if the weather holds this week, I hope to do a bit of scouting further afield. I feel bound somehow to catalogue something of the brutality of the day.
I'm not sure if I'm delighted, amused or appalled by this - while all the old architectural matrons are falling down around it after the earthquake, good old Calendar Girls are rising like the phoenix from the rubble - though to be fair, their building was erected before the quake. I'm not sure who has designed it - I've made a few enquiries and each architectural practice I've asked has said (quite emphatically) "No, it's definitely not us!" Maybe listing the home of exotic dancers, strippers and topless waitresses on your architectural portfolio isn't seen as the ultimate in good taste - especially not in staid and conventional Christchurch anyway.