On Friday 18th June, Ōtautahi’s ‘master of the dark arts’ Dark Ballad will present a range of new works, including prints and one-of-a-kind hand-printed tees, in an exhibition at Flying Nun Records’ new store at 143 Tuam Street. Alongside the visual works by Dark Ballad, DJ Crash Gothic will also spin a musical set – making this a perfect way to warm up in the midst of a Christchurch winter! Dark Ballad has been building his reputation as a visual force, with his striking print work, from posters in the streets to gallery pieces and record covers, recognisable for their strong graphic qualities and evocative imagery. This presentation of new work, including a range of collaborations with local creatives, is sure to be fire!
Good things take time – that’s what they say, anyway. It’s hard to believe that it was mid-March when we sat down with Melbourne artist Drez to reflect on his whirlwind visit to Ōtautahi for the Flare Street Art Festival, where does the time go? With a lot going on, it has taken us a while to finally publish our conversation (conducted in a car in Phillipstown just before Drez departed for the airport!), but we know it is worth the wait! After getting to know Drez as he painted his striking mural on St Asaph Street, it was a privilege to take the chance to dive a bit deeper into his practice, his influences and the comparative cultural and historic landscapes of Aotearoa and Australia. A thoughtful and reflective presence, Drez reveals the importance that he places on his work’s ability to engage its audience through colour and form, eliciting a direct connection between art and experience…
On the day that you’re about to leave, its great to finally get to have a chat – I guess we should start with how you have enjoyed your time in Ōtautahi, Christchurch…
Drez: I’ve really enjoyed it. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind, pretty chock-a-block with painting and then one hour to do something else and then sleeping and then painting again, you know, just rinse and repeat. But it’s been really nice. Everybody has been super friendly, people have responded really well to the mural. All of the festival hosting has been great, and we’ve met a lot of good people. All things considered, it’s been a good time.
This is your first time in the city, right? Did you look into Ōtautahi before coming over or have you learned on the ground?
Drez: I did a little bit of research into mainly just looking at the earthquakes and how that affected the city. I guess more broadly I did a bit more research on New Zealand, the history of the population that’s been here and pre-colonial and post-colonial sort of times.
Is that something that you would normally do when you’re traveling or is that something that has kind of been fed into you as an artist, that need to explore those types of contexts? It’s an increasing responsibility for artists to know about the environments that they’re going to and working in, right? Knowing that you are here for a short span and would be under time pressure to complete the mural, does that add to that responsibility to have a bit more of an understanding in advance?
Drez: To be honest, not really. Like, I think for me, my work is not really narrative driven or political or about social stories or the environment as such. It’s more focused on art and colour and architecture and tropes that don’t really lean into the social environment. So, in terms of directly relating to my work, it’s not hugely relevant. But for me personally, I am super interested, and I think it’s important when you go to other locations to know about the culture. And there’s obviously a correlation between New Zealand and Australia and the First Nations’ history in Australia and the pre-colonial history in New Zealand as well. So I thought, you know, I felt like there was a level of responsibility to understand a bit more and not just come in and be like, great, I’m just going to paint a wall and then piss off home and keep doing what I’m doing without caring about where I’ve actually been or any of the important aspects of where I’ve been.
You know, I think for both Australia and Aotearoa, we’re at really important times in terms of the discourse around indigeneity and the legacy of colonialism and the responsibilities to address issues that have faced indigenous cultures in both countries. Obviously, as you say, your work is not necessarily centred on that, but how do you sort of see the relationship between the two countries. Have you noticed anything while you’ve been here that sort of signifies our differences or similarities?
Drez: I’ve definitely noticed a bit. I mean, I think obviously there’s a similar time period as to when colonial settlement happened between New Zealand and Australia. So, in terms of the age of our colonial nations, it’s similar, it is quite different to America that’s got a couple of hundred years on top of us and other places that have even more extensive time periods. So, I think in terms of the age of our countries, there is a similarity, which is why it’s interesting to see how that post colonialisation has unfolded. I think there definitely is a difference and a more significant integration of First Nations culture in New Zealand than there is in Australia, lots of really simple things. I feel like definitely in Melbourne, there isn’t anywhere near as much representation. When you get up north there is more, but in Melbourne and Sydney, the big cities, there isn’t as much representation. And I think simple things like, you know, using. Using language pretty regularly in emails and communications and seeing lots of non-English language on signs, that’s a pretty clear sign of there being more than one culture in a space. That representation is really important for the celebration of culture. And yeah, I think Australia, and definitely Melbourne, is a bit behind in that respect.
It’s interesting. As a city, Christchurch holds this reputation as being the most quintessentially colonial city in Aotearoa. And yet of course, the earthquakes have shaken loose a lot of that and have allowed us to recognize the need for better reflection and representation of our indigenous histories and identities in the cityscape. You might have noticed some of that in the architecture and the signage and the public artworks that you have come across. There’s still obviously a long way to go. In your experience, whether or not it’s engaging directly with those narratives, is art in the streets a way to break down accepted or perceived constructions, to explore new ways of thinking? Do you see your work falling into that context, that even if it’s not explicitly political, it’s a rethinking of public space?
Drez: Yeah, I think so. I mean definitely street art and public art has that ability to create representation and engage in the representation of different stories. The more that you see that in signage and architecture and murals and public art, the more that culture is celebrated and the more that culture is less othered, as opposed to very colonial spaces that are all about the more colonial architecture and imagery and signage and language and places where it totally removes any presence of a non-colonial culture. So yeah, definitely public space and the imagery in it plays a massive role in that experience for somebody that’s not from a location. And I think, in terms of my work, it definitely speaks to thinking about using public space in a, I guess, less traditional way. But again, my work really doesn’t speak to these cultural narratives. It speaks more to the narrative of art and street art and contemporary art and the cultural divide between contemporary and urban art. So, I guess it reaches more to that space and that sort of divide of what is highbrow and what is lowbrow, and what spaces are to be used in different ways. I think it sometimes loses a little bit of context when the productions are really high scale and you know, on much larger buildings or there’s lots of infrastructure put in place in terms of access and assistance and these sorts of things and council permits and stuff to do it. But definitely when I was doing more illegal works, it really spoke to that sort of, you know, cross cultural divide between highbrow and lowbrow connotations or conversations of art and where art can be and what art has value.
Right.
Drez: And which people making art have value. That’s another pretty important part to that, I think.
That leads into that discussion of your personal trajectory and coming from the world and background of graffiti and into a career now that straddles aspects of that world with highly contemporary practice. How have you navigated that transition or that trajectory? How much does your work reach into both of those worlds simultaneously? How much influence does that graffiti background still have in your work, and how much is that contemporary approach now influencing your view of graffiti as an art form?
Drez: Well, I think it’s still pretty 50/50. I haven’t really painted any graffiti for quite a while. I always want to, but I just haven’t. I haven’t made the time to be doing that because I’m always doing other things. But I do still think that my love for public space and my desire to paint in public space and to make work that is publicly available and isn’t just sitting in that contemporary art world is just as strong as it’s always been. And that intention, that art is available to people no matter if you have a contemporary art background or if you’ve been taught that sort of history, understand it and have that knowledge, or if you’re just a person that doesn’t even know what the word art means, and you have absolutely no idea. I think I want it to be accessible to everybody because I still believe in the ability to affect change and not necessarily just socio-politically but just by brightening people’s days and creating a different quality of life as such. So yeah, I think both of them still affect me and I still try and bring elements of my street work into the gallery space, like, playing with sprayed textures and that experience of movement and being in space is a really fundamental element of my gallery-based practice.
In terms of your public works, what is the balance between the role of colour and tone and the physical makeup of the space and the impact that has on the geometry of a work?
Drez: It’s balancing the two. I think when you can get the balance bang in the middle, that’s going to make the work that has the most impact in the space, but also feels the most harmonious with the space and really sort of shifts your experience of the entire environment. As opposed to being an image on a wall that simply does its own thing within its own space. If you can integrate the architecture and the geometry of the environment, as well as bringing colours in, then you activate every aspect of the space as opposed to just where you’re working.
One of the things that really struck me watching you work was the beauty of a hand-pulled line, it made me think of that quote from Margaret Kilgallen in Beautiful Losers, where she talks about a wavering hand and a line always being slightly imperfect. Was that something that you always intended as a valuable part of your work, that human element of the process? I imagine a lot of people will look at one of your works and assume it’s very precise and exact, but instead there’s actually real humanity in the process and in the finished article as well. Is that a very intentional thing or is that something that kind of occurred organically?
Drez: No, it’s definitely intentional. I feel like that that human touch is really important to my work. It really assists with giving a sort of vibrational and emotive effect to the work that speaks to people in a really different way. It also speaks to two worlds of art that I really love, which is the 1960s-1950s Greenbergian Modernism and Op Art from that era as well. European Op Art at that time was very crisp and very taped and very hard edge, lots of the modernism was very much focused on the purity of medium and action and painting for the sake of painting and all of these sorts of elements. I really love both those worlds, and I try and straddle a place in the middle where you have all of that emotion and all of that purity of paint, colour being colour and form being form, and that’s what’s beautiful about it. But then also the optical effects of Op Art and that really crisp nature of how colour really affects colour and how lines affect colour and form affects colour. I really try and play with both of those two mega classical worlds of abstract art, to bring them together, but I also put it into a street context to really have that ultra highbrow contemporary connotation mixed with the lowbrow street art-esque connotation as well. It’s straddling all of those lines to create that cross-cultural conversation is really important.
You’ve touched on the way that your work is occupying different spaces, whether it’s the gallery space or the street space. Was the development of your mural approach reflecting studio practice or did the studio practice come from that mural approach? Were they occurring simultaneously or did one feed into the other?
Drez: They were occurring simultaneously, but not side by side for quite a while. So, for a long time I painted graffiti and all the graf I did was just letter-based stuff. There was lots of variation, but it was always exploring different graffiti ideas, quite classical graffiti ideas. But I was doing a lot of abstract art as well that was totally different to the graffiti and had no imagery at all. But really, I had no relationship between the two. Then I started painting abstract art on walls, and as soon as I sort of hit that mark, it went back into my gallery-based approach as well. They were kind of separate for a while, but then I started really enjoying doing something on walls and then I fed that back into my studio practice.
Your studio practice has embraced sculptural approaches as well as wall work. How does the sculptural approach change your thinking? Because you are kind of creating the surface or creating the object for the colour to be applied. How does that three-dimensional approach come out differently from when you’re working in an existing space? Is it more challenging or more freeing? What is the unique attraction of that approach?
Drez: It’s definitely more challenging, I think. So, the sculptural works that I’m predominantly working on at the moment, they also come from works that I was doing on walls. I have a series of works called Chromatic Oscillation, works that are all about lines of colour and varying gradients and planes of colour sitting on top of each other, moving left and right, creating an oscillating and optical effect, dragging you backwards and forwards throughout a wall. And so, the sculptural works, are basically a way of making that in a 3D structure that made that effect happen even more, really trying to accentuate it. This movement of colour and the movement of the person and the space the person holds within the room as they view the work. And so, I mean, as with all of my work, I just keep taking one step and exploring and extrapolating upon the previous idea and trying to make that more obvious in the next idea. The sculptures, you know, really do situate people and make your presence felt, as opposed to the artwork’s presence, necessarily. And I think that really leans back into the idea of wanting art to be for people, so people can have an experience and having it in public space and giving that experience to people and really trying to harness and exemplify that. That’s what is important. I think that’s the relationship. And, you know, they’re definitely more difficult. They’re definitely quite a lengthy process and there are lots of logistics involved in making them happen as opposed to doing paintings on walls. But, you know, they really do get a strong effect, and that’s what’s important.
Well, you’re about to leave for the airport, so I want to thank you so much, not just for the chance to chat, but for the artwork that you’ve left the city as well, I hope we see you back soon!
To see more of Drez’s incredible work, from public art to incredible studio productions, follow @d.r.e.z on Instagram or check out his profile at Magma Galleries…
It is hard to believe that three months have flown by since the 2025 Flare Ōtautahi Street Art Festival coloured our city’s walls with a flurry of activity and energy! A triumphant return for the mural festival, the 2025 iteration drew huge crowds, enthusiastic media coverage and, of course, a collection of impressive artworks that further cement Ōtautahi Christchurch as the urban art destination of Aotearoa. From colourful abstractions, striking portraits, and bold typography to sky-high surrealism, complex graffiti and poignant cultural narratives, Flare covered a range of bases stylistically and thematically. With more than 19 large-scale works and a series of activations, Flare 2025 was indicative of a city completely enamoured with turning our streets into canvasses and embracing possibility!
We thought that with the cold months now well and truly here, it would be an ideal time to bring some fire and warm some souls with a reminder of Flare’s goodness – so join us for a little stroll through memory lane with a visual recap of Flare Ōtautahi Street Art Festival 2025!
Dcypher’s Urban Abstract was a stop on a Watch This Space guided tour… As was Jessie Rawcliffe’s Ophelia, where the artist talked to the tour group.The tour also took in the massive work by Jacob Yikes, Aotearoa’s tallest mural.Haser’s Manawa Pou, Manawa Ora in progress.The master, Dr Berst in action….Drez’s St Asaph Street work is a stunning addition. Jen Heads’ window installation at The Drifter…Jessie Rawcliffe’s stuinning Ophelia, Colombo Street.YSEK’s studio Ghibli inspired work on Worcester Boulevard.YSEK’s work featured a collaboration with fellow FSA crew member Seven Eleven.Ling’s Elias, May and Kairau on the side of Child Sister.Fluro’s I Look To The Hills is an evocative landmark framed by the imposing Te Kaha.Haser, Fluro, Berst, Jessie Rawcliffe and Ling joined the 2025 Artist Panel.Everything kicked off with the FSA X DTR X BRS Production Wall on Colombo Street. Always insightful, Berst chatted with tour groups. Haser’s Manawa Pou, Manawa Ora completed.Nick Lowry completed two works for Flare, highlighting his prodigious output…Nick Lowry’s second wall, in progress…FOUL from the Flare Market Graffiti Wall…TWICE from the Flare Market Graffiti Wall…Miiekes, Klaudia Bartos, Hambone, Tom Kerr and Ekos on the Flare Market Tattoo Wall…Jessie Rawcliffe and Devos on the Flare Market Wall…Ling and Berst at the Flare Market Wall.Trystan Cutts and Kyla K and Xact’s collab at the Flare Market Wall.Pest5 for the TMD Crew Jam, Sydenham.
Photo credits: Centuri Chan, Reuben Woods
For specific locations – remember to check out our ever-growing map!
As part of Ōtautahi’s Matariki celebrations, the city’s most iconic heritage building has been illuminated by a powerful projection created by the Offline Collective’s Sam Emerson (Ngāi Tahu) in collaboration with collective members Michael Duggan and Charlie Pitts. Presented by Flare Ōtautahi Street Art Festival, the Christ Church Cathedral Reinstatement Project and Offline Collective, Hurihanga transforms the Cathedral’s exterior into a canvas of light, honouring stories of renewal, remembrance, and whakapapa through breathtaking visuals and mātauranga Māori.
An evocative public activation that invites pause, wonder, reflection, conversation and connection, Hurihanga adds meaningful layers to the famed Cathedral to reflect Ōtautahi’s navigation of our past, present and future to reveal our connections to place and each other in recognition of Matariki.
Offline Collective is an Ōtautahi based creative studio specialising in motion graphics, live visuals and immersive installations. Blending design, art and technology, Offline Collective craft bold, immersive visual experiences that integrate cultural narratives into contemporary digital art across a variety of platforms.
Led by Sam Emerson, one of Aotearoa’s most respected digital artists and producers, Offline Collective created Hurihanga to reflect ancestral stories and the significance of Puaka, the star to which Te Waipounamu looks for Matariki. The brightest star in Tautoru (Orion’s Belt), in Māori mythology Puaka’s appearance means Te Waka o Raki is rising to bring loved ones to their final resting place in the celestial kingdom, a reminder to acknowledge those who came before us, but also to celebrate the present, and to dream for the future. Hurihanga harnesses this wairua and draws on the symbolism of the cycles of time, of wind, rain, lightning and the growing, harvesting and storage of food, to create a sprawling, transformative story that takes viewers on a journey far beyond the physical setting.
Suggesting the power of art and the diverse ways we can creatively activate our shared landscape, through the powerful lens of te Aō Māori imagery and storytelling, Hurihanga is a must see! Explore a new way of seeing the heart of the city this winter with this striking collaboration!
Hurihanga has been made possible with the support of a number of donors who supported the Boosted campaign – highlighting the power of community!
I might be a bit biased (Disclaimer: I was the author of the Ghosts on Every Corner book and have been involved in the project since it’s initial genesis), but it is hard to go past Ghosts on Every Corner as one of the most impactful art projects to emerge from Ōtautahi in 2025. Numbers generally don’t lie – tentative counts suggests more than 10,000 people visited the Pūmanawa Gallery space at the Arts Centre in the five week run that Ghostcat’s scratch-built recreations were on display, a huge figure for an independent project. Additionally, the book documenting and expanding the project, featuring striking photography by the super talented Dave Richards, has proven popular, selling more than 700 copies on pre-order before being placed on the bookshelves of retail outlets. It would be fair to say that Ghosts on Every Corner struck a chord.
Wizards Arcade (photo: Dave Richards)
What made this project so impactful? The foundations are, of course, found in Ghostcat’s incredible ability to craft his work as intricately detailed, seemingly lived-in constructions, weathered and layered in a way that invites deep consideration and a sense of familiar experience. Despite their small size, they feel like places we can inhabit, they feel real and are tangible and tactile, a quality that is increasingly important in a world dominated by the potential of digital and AI-created imagery. To witness people scanning these works of art, leaning in, invited to remember their connection to these places, was to see the way people associated with the these works of art and their purpose.
The second layer was obviously the role of nostalgia, and encouraging people to consider the role these places, tattoo parlours, record stores, video game arcades, cafes, shaped our lives, collectively and individually. People have remarked about the way Ghosts on Every Corner allowed them to reminisce, but also to reconcile their connection to place, to properly farewell these places after losing many in a very abrupt manner (it is worth pointing out that not all of these places were destroyed in the earthquakes – some had already evolved into new forms by 2010/2011, affected by forces of commerce and social trends). Countless visitors recounted their personal attachments to place, both those in the exhibition and locations beyond the show’s scope. This reflected the project’s intention to be both highly specific and yet, universally evocative. While Ghosts on Every Corner spotlit local memories, it also can be considered as a lens to reflect on the corner stores, the food joints, the video stores, that everyone knew growing up – not just in Ōtautahi, but in any town or city across Aotearoa and the world. Ghosts on Every Corner acknowledges that places shape us and give us identity and community. Change does not have to be expedited by a natural disaster, change is inevitable, sometimes gradual, sometimes internal, but always inevitable.
Echo Records (Photo: Dave Richards)
This sense of connection is another key layer to Ghosts on Every Corner. The project was built upon conversation, upon a recognition of community. Whether it was friends, family, workplaces, sub-cultures, or disparate crowds, the stories of Ghosts on Every Corner revel in the coming together of people. Reflecting this, the project was shaped by input from a wide range of people – from suggestions of places for Ghostcat to build, to the stories and recollections gathered for the book’s chapters. Ghosts on Every Corner was created by a larger community. People have seen themselves as part of the creation, they have felt connected to the outcomes. This layered quality, this ability to connect with people is where Ghosts on Every Corner gains its potency. A touching, celebratory project, it has made people smile, cry, dream and talk. That seems like a truly valuable impact.
The Ghosts on Every Corner book is now available in selected book stores.
The legendary FILTH Crew are the latest artists to transform the ‘permanent’ Giant Cans on St Asaph Street! In late May, Morks, Lurq and Tepid added some fresh funk with their collaborative production that references so many of the things that have shaped this long-running, one-of-a-kind creative collective. While the cylindrical cans present a unique proposition and challenge, the FILTH Crew have long made use of unusual surfaces and environments – from city walls, to trains, to the surroundings of Te Wai Pounamu’s rivers and plains. In their work for the Giant Cans, these influences are made clear, as we found out from Morks:
“Our concept for the cans was to match all three cans. We wanted to represent the South Island, using the Southern Alps and Canterbury Plains. We chose the colour blue for the ‘FILTHS’ signature font up at the top of the cans, to represent the Southern Alps, which appear inside the letters. Our pieces’ colour schemes were based on and influenced by pounamu, being endemic to the South Island. We brought in elements of the West Coast, Fiordland, Western Southland and the Nelson Districts as well. We added the harakeke overlapping the pieces to bring all the elements of South onto the cans.” The effect is lively, meaningful and evocative of the surrounding environment just beyond the city’s doorstep. The production feels proudly familiar.
While the circular form was challenging, the cans also presented an opportunity to think around how to encourage the viewer to look at the overall picture. Morks continues: “We started from the top and worked our way towards the bottom. The round surface was challenging. We wanted our pieces to wrap around the whole can to create a flow. When you stand on a certain angle, the Southern Alps align like they would in real life.”
The work brings together so many elements that have influenced the FILTHS Crew over their long history – identifying their unique status as a collective that looks a little bit differently at the world around them. “For 25 years we have been consistently active on the rail system, from wagons, trackside, bridges, stations. You see our names. Staying consistent gives us the ability to replicate our process of getting up with the same level and quality over and over again, consistency is what transforms average into excellence.” That consistency has ensured that the FILTHS’ legacy is widely respected.
Marking their lengthy existence, the crew has exciting plans for their quarter century milestone: “The FILTHS’ 25 Years as a Crew Exhibition will give an insight into the history of South Island graffiti. The show will present like a timeline, or history lesson. There will be a lot of art on display, from early sketches, photos, drawings, limited edition t-shirts, model trains, and a feature wall of original 6×4 photos of 500 Spacerunner photos that have never been seen.” This approach will ensure the exhibition is a must-see – stay tuned for more information!
In the meantime, check out the FILTHS’ contribution to the Giant Cans on St Asaph and get inspired!
Created across several weeks in late March and early April, as a celebration of Pride Month, Te Pūrakau ā Tiki rāua ko Tūtānekai – The Story of Tiki and Tūtānekai was designed and conceived by artist River Jayden (Ngāti Tahu – Ngāti Whaoa, Ngāti Maniapoto), and executed by Jayden with support from a small group of local takatāpui rangatahi.
The work forms part of the existing collection of artworks enlivening the hoardings along Worcester Bouvelard that frame Te Matatiki Toi Ora – The Arts Centre – joining murals by Mr G, Monti Masiu and Kophie Su’a-Hulsbosch that provide a spectrum of narratives around culture and identity.
Jayden’s work features sprawling multi-coloured kōwhaiwhai on either side of a lively manaia character and hand-painted text reading Te pūrākau ā Tiki rāua ko Tūtanekai (The story of Tiki and Tūtānekai) to the left, and “Ka mate ahau I te aroha ki toku hoa, ki a Tiki” – Tūtānekai’s declaration that “I am stricken with love for my friend, for Tiki” to the right.
The work illuminates the often-obscured narrative of the love between Tūtānekai and his male companion Tiki. A celebration of rainbow and takatāpui identity, and a challenge to “colonial narratives from the 1800s—a time when missionaries and settlers tried to strip us of our mātauranga, our ways of being, and our expressions of love and identity.” Jayden explains that the work centres Māori identity and “our diverse expressions of sexuality—something that was once natural and visible within our communities.”
Jayden reasons that this story has been overshadowed by the relationship between Tūtānekai and Hinemoa: “this part of the story was silenced under the pressures of Christian missionary influence and colonisation. Yet takatāpui identities have always existed in te ao Māori. They live in our whakapapa, our whakairo, our mōteatea—woven into the fabric of who we are.”
Jayden’s work is an act of reclaiming stories and space, and in Te pūrākau ā Tiki rāua ko Tūtanekai, the narrative is reinforced by the juxtaposition against the neo-gothic architecture, a reminder of Ōtautahi’s ongoing reconciliation of its bi-cultural identity and history post-quake.
Te pūrākau ā Tiki rāua ko Tūtanekaiwas made possible with support from Te Matatiki Toi Ora – The Arts Centre, Watch This Space, Flare Ōtautahi Street Art Festival, the Christchurch City Council, Dulux Paints, Moana Vā, Qtopia, and InsideOut.
With the upcoming refresh of the three ‘permanent’ art cans at the St Asaph Street Giant Spray Cans site, we have been thinking a lot about these unique surfaces and their evolving appearance. While the three cans to the west serve as commissioned installations, with a revolving roster of artists and crews decorating the cylindrical forms, the other three cans, situated to the middle of the space (closer to the basketball court) are a type of legal wall space, an open source option for people to adorn with markings and makings of all kinds. The impact of each set can be strikingly different. The cohesive ‘permanent’ designs serve as aspirational inspiration, but the more haphazard patina of the ‘legal wall’ cans can be equally as interesting – from signals of presence to gestating visual ideas, the cacophony of tags, handwritten messages, characters, patterns and icons are a wide gamut that becomes a thick layer of paint. The legal cans change as quickly as the weather in Ōtautahi, new chapters are constantly added. So we decided to put some of our favourite finds from the history of these iconic cans together (from both their current location and the previous Lichfield Street setting). The selection of images here features local talent from Ōtautahi and artists who have visited the city and left their mark on the metal surfaces. Some examples form part of initiatives and projects, others were created independently, but in each case, they are examples of how the unique approach offered by the Giant Cans affords a space for creative and restless energy to manifest… The outward appearance of the cans is chaotic – intentionally so, because they represent the multiplicity of voices in any city – when they change constantly, they are simply a reflection of our shared landscape. So, while many of these examples have disappeared under fresh layers, that is exactly how it should be – after all, a city never stops…
Dcypher x IkarusDcypherDcypherJessie RawcliffeEm WaferDcypherRubble CityChile OneBolsM+HNick LowryEdo RathPaul X WalshPestoSafe KasperDTR X Ikarus
Centuri Chan is a multi-faceted creative – one of the forces (excuse the pun, it will make sense later…) behind the Humans of Christchurch Ōtautahi project, he is a photographer, content creator, Lego block master, and, importantly, a ‘Star Wars guy’. In his upcoming project Dark Countdown, he will fuse his fixation on a galaxy far, far away with a visual commentary on the waste created by mass commercial marketing and short-term collectible fads. The result will be an interactive installation that is an impressive patch work image, and a deeper commentary on contemporary consumerism and capitalism. We took the chance to let Centuri fill us in on this intriguing project, giving us an insight into the concept and execution…
“In 2016 a major supermarket chain released a set of Star Wars collectibles as part of a gimmicky advertising campaign. A grocery spend of $20 or more would be awarded with a single blind-bagged ‘Cosmic Shell’ featuring a character from the Star Wars films. Collectors were encouraged to collect and trade for the complete set of 36 to fill an exclusive collectors album.
I conceived this Dark Countdown artwork around 2020 after finding hundreds of cosmic shells at op-shops, flea markets and online marketplaces after the promotion ended. I have always been a collector, and I have been a huge Star Wars fan since I was a youngster. My past-self would have spent countless hours and grocery trips completing the set.
Instead, it was after the hype died down that I started. I spent several years collecting bulk lots, bags of spares, and even unopened boxes of these small plastic discs.” Chan will now utilise this vast collection to create a 5-metre wide mosaic image at the St Asaph Street gallery space The Art Hole. In collecting the required amount of discs to create the massive artwork, Chan is able to highlight the problematic nature of such gimmicks, which intentionally cause a furore of excitement like a brief sugar rush, before most of the collectible trinkets are discarded and forgotten. It is easy to imagine which side of the galactic unrest the producers might fall on (insert Imperial March here)…
The Dark Countdown installation is almost five years in the making. The final work will be a giant photo-mosaic made from thousands of these discarded Cosmic Shells. The exhibition comprises two parts, the interactive installation of week one, where the public is invited to help create the giant mosaic in situ at the Art Hole gallery space from Tuesday 20th May (opening 5:30pm to 7pm) until Saturday 24th May. The second stage will see the completed artwork on display for a week, open to the public from Tuesday 27th May (the unveiling at 5:30pm – 7:00pm) to Saturday 31st May.
Screenshot
Be part of Dark Countdown by helping install the giant mosaic work and visiting the exhibition:
Interactive Installation: Opening – Tuesday 20th May, 5.30pm – 7:00pm Gallery Open Hours: Tuesday 20th May – Saturday 24th May, 9:00am – 4:00pm
Exhibition: Opening (Artwork Unveiling) – Tuesday 27th May, 5.30pm – 7:00pm Gallery Open Hours: Tuesday 27th May – Saturday 31st May, 9:00am – 4:00pm
Follow Dark Countdown on Facebook for updates and follow Centuri Creative on Instagram…
We are stoked to bring you the newest entry to our growing playlist! We reached out to 2024 Little Street Art Festival artist Klaudia Bartos to find out what music inspires her creativity and keeps her going in the studio. As the multi-talented artist explains, much like her wide-ranging approach to visual art, her musical tastes are also varied: “There are so many different genres of music I like that I could never pick a favourite- especially while making art!” So, what songs will Klaudia never skip and what might we find her listening to as she creates the paintings, prints, sculptures and everything in between that we have come to love? Read on to find out!
Tiesto – Adagio for Strings
This is a classic for me. I heard it a lot growing up, so it has a super super nostalgic vibe for me. Kinda sad but up beat- I love it!
Foreigner – Waiting for a Girl Like You
Just a guilty pleasure song – it’s moody and I love it…
Q Lazzarus – Goodbye Horses
I mean, what can I say? It’s a bloody banger…
Guns N’ Roses – This I Love
Mid painting and this comes on… It pushes me through to the end. I might even replay it, hahaha…
Nirvana – Where Did You Sleep Last Night
Linkin Park – Breaking the Habit
I would have added a whole album of Linkin Park to this list if I could, but let’s just go with this one. RIP CHESTER
Phil Collins – A Groovy Kind of Love
My Mum used to listen to Phil Collins all the time when I was growing up and it stuck with me. I kinda just love sad sounding songs I guess!
Rainbow – Rainbow Eyes
Soft singing Dio, guitar, melancholy – lovely!!!!
Robert Miles – Children
This song always makes me think of Dad
Ayla – Ayla (Taucher Remix)
To be honest, I’ve gotta have a good mix of trance to keep me going…