This article first appeared in The Post, 26 August 2024
The smell of the timber – my first impression is the smell of the timber. I’m also taken aback by the sheer number of pou – it definitely feels different to view this work in the flesh. Anton’s gone for simple forms; he’s subtly carved the pou but otherwise lets the grain tell its own story. With their heads tilted slightly differently, these simple human forms each have their own personality.
It’s a gentle piece, it's not claustrophobic. Traditionally when you think of pou, they have significant design elements – they’re quite decorative – but Anton’s stripped it right back. Sometimes pou on a marae can be confronting, but this isn’t in-your-face, it gives you time to appreciate the subtle messages.
It feels right to see Anton’s work in this gallery, especially with a visiting kura group of tamariki here as well. Listening to them speak te reo with Pātaka kaiako and artist Heidi Brickell confirms that the pou are meant to be here at Pātaka, and we are so privileged to have them here. Looking at them from a child’s point of view, I think about the scale and what a great talking point they are, offering different insights and different interpretations. As an adult walking in, it’s also about the way Anton has laid them out and the beautiful ambient soundscape underneath.
If I were to offer any advice for other visitors to this work, I’d say to walk past the text at first. Take your time to just absorb the pou, sit down and appreciate the craftsmanship and only then read the text. You’ll read that Anton’s pou are another vehicle to talk about Parihaka. But his is an updated message that also discusses environmental issues. The formation also speaks about the importance of protecting the environment. His layout is not a fence, it’s about the figures and forms, with the pepe pou, the seedling, being protected by the larger pou.
It doesn’t matter where you sit, each pou has its own story. The shadows cast on the wall are all part of it, and the river stones the pou nest in add to that story. They’re from the Hutt River at Naenae, part of Anton’s story from his school days at nearby Silverstream College. It’s at Silverstream that I met his stepfather who turned out to be related to me! So Anton and I are whānau, even though it was some years later in 2017 when I met him in person on Waiheke Island and we looked at pa sites together.
There’s an energy from all these stones and from Anton’s collaborative approach. He also carved the pounamu taonga for each pou, and the addition of kākahu by Shiree Reihana also gives them a special touch. Anton told me how emotional he was seeing the installation in place here and said the best part was sharing it all with his whānau. Anton’s down to earth, he’s grounded. I look at this work and I can see Anton.
If Anton were here right now, I’d be giving him a big bro hug and big manaaki. I’m so pleased for him. I’ve watched his work and how he’s grown and he’s got stronger and stronger. We’re so grateful to have these pou here at Pātaka; it’s appropriate to be inside this institution. Pātaka and Porirua have a legacy of carving with Whitireia being a hub over the years. There’s breathing space for these pou here; we have the moana right over the road.
Also, I’d be asking Anton: is there any way we can keep them here?