Essay
I am free because of an open plan kitchen
Shannon Te Ao on the work of peter simpson
As part of Three Approaches, Three Rooms, Peter Simpson introduces two doors made from Kauri timber into Gus Fisher Gallery’s exhibition space. Simpson purchased the doors from their previous owner during the renovation of a nearby Mount Eden villa. The doors have been displaced in a way following the removal of several walls to accommodate a new kitchen in the property—Simpson observes, “they no longer served the property’s needs.”
The doors have now been painted by the artist using spray paint, kōwhaiwhai patterning. Simpson’s Kauri doors lean against the wall, plotted loosely in corners across from each other in the gallery. Two of the existing “Gallery One” doors are removed from their hinging and similarly installed within the exhibition space.
This sequence of intervention is complicated by the fact that an additional existing door is left intact within the gallery. I’m told by Simpson that this particular door which corresponds to the layout of the building is a “Heritage” door, and so its repurposing here is deemed out of the scope of this specific intervention. Despite or because of this, the heritage door becomes a pivotal refrain within the image of a new, destabilised and re-activated setting.
I am free because of an open plan kitchen denotes several of Simpson’s recent artistic touchstones which include: the repurposing of materials; the activation of timber and rākau through installation; mark-making; the inscription of text in te reo Māori; and the integration of these elements within existing rooms and architecture. Here Simpson’s material additions are focused upon two doors applied with loose, lively spray painted kōwhaiwhai patterns. These bring with them a demarcation of Māoritanga, a vision, a responsive artistic imagination, a wry humour and a personified echo. Set as sculptural refence points our bodies’ relation here is heightened. The accumulated array of doors within the space carry a peculiar mix of materials, weight and functionality— against this backdrop are Simpson’s Kauri doors which feel flimsy, out of place and strange in comparison to their current setting.
The scripting of I am free because of an open plan kitchen suggests a recalibration has now been set in motion. The installation provokes an obvious assessment of the various entry and exit points of the room. The positioning of the freed doors pulls you toward numerous spatial dead-ends in the space along with details of decorative and functional elements within the room. This mode of surveillance can be common for artists, especially those involved in exhibition-making. As one begins to take stock of the details of a room, one can begin to imagine how they might work in or with a particular space. Here, the strategic emptiness encourages a different audience to enact a parallel and deeper kind of scrutiny.
What is under assessment is much more than the architecture. The installation emphasizes my own self-awareness. My footsteps, breathing and even the sound of my clothing as I move. The room and my presence within its confines ignites a low-level but deep-set charge—sparked by Simpson’s choreography—resonating with something that I likely carried with me as I entered. That is, the weighty reality that this space is not for me. I am free because of an open plan kitchen reveals a cultural context laid bare and in question, revealing equally what the room is and isn’t.
What I’m describing is not a metaphorical experience. This is the reality of walking through the city as you leave the Gus Fisher Gallery. If one is really trying to consider whose bodies the spaces that we occupy are built to serve and hold space for, it’s not long before one accumulates a sickening tally.
I am free because of an open plan kitchen is set within a moment when the government is desperately rallying to control and reorder the narrative that describes colonial Aotearoa. The current coalition have been emboldened by a political majority that seems content to observe and uphold a string of recent actions that flagrantly aim to problematise and de-legitimise our foundational points of reference. Set within this moment, Simpson’s artistic vernacular is pointed, revealing and necessarily disarming.
This text response was commissioned by Gus Fisher Gallery on the occasion of the exhibition Three Approaches, Three Rooms, 2024.
Gus Fisher Gallery
74 Shortland Street
Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland Central 1010
Tuesday – Friday:
10am – 5pm
Saturdays:
10am – 4pm