
Waterfall on the Upper Reaches, 2018

Veil of the Soul, 2018

Ground Water Mirror, 2017

Burnout, 2017

Looking out, looking in, 2017

Left bank, middle reach, high expectations, 2017

Sandclock, 2018

Chainman, 2018

Forest, 2018

The End of Wordsworth Street, 2018

Travel without moving, 2018

Hatrick's window (Tongariro), 2018

Waterfall on the Grid (Māngere), 2017

Power lines, 2018

Chain reaction, 2018

Lonely as a Cloud, 2018

View of the peak, 2018

As far as the eye can reach, 2018

Where the river begins to look like itself, 2018

I didn't feel it till I saw it, 2017

Ground Water Mirror installation view @ Two Rooms, Auckland 2018. Photos © Sam Hartnett





Ground Water Mirror @ SoFA, Christchurch, 2019. Photos © Lucinda Webber




The End of Wordsworth Street @ Sarjeant Gallery, Whanganui, 2018. Photos © Michael McKeagg





Catalogue - The End of Wordsworth Street, 2018

Catalogue - The End of Wordsworth Street, 2018
Ground Water Mirror
Ground Water Mirror is about a relationship with land and particularly water that has changed since industrialisation. Reflecting on the western notion of human domination over water, and the feeling of alienation from it that followed a dependance on its subjugation, I explore our reasons for romanticising this concept we have of Nature.
The title is a slight mistranslation of Grundwasserspiegel – the german word for water table. Aside from water's obvious mirror-like qualities that resulted in my translation, there is an expectation that follows contemplation of water – for it to provide a solution to the questions or anxieties we project onto it.
However we choose to describe water, we inevitably return to ourselves and our own experiences with water, using descriptions for which water itself has no name. It's cold, it runs, it flows; it seeps, rises and falls.
Berlin's ground water mirror is never far beneath one's feet, I can hear it flow through those pink or blue overhead pipes as it is pumped across the city from construction sites to waterways. They remind us why we long for that other kind of water, for Nature. Why we rely on this fantasy, fetishise it – and if we are privileged enough – travel to find it.
As we gaze into the mirror it holds up for us, we too easily imagine that what we behold is Nature when in fact we see the reflection of our own unexamined longings and desires – William Cronon, The Trouble with Wilderness; or, Getting Back to the Wrong Nature, 1995
Conor Clarke, 2018