Following on from her exhibition, ‘TE RAU-O-TE-HUIA’ – ‘THE TREASURED POSSESSION OF TE HUIA’, we caught up with artist Aimee Gruar, to talk about her art practice and creative lifestyle.
Aimee invited us into her home on the garden filled property that she shares with four generations of her family in Westmere.
We chatted about her creative parents, connections to the past, and her appreciation of nature – all of which inspire her art pieces.
Where did your passion for art come from?
“I grew up next to Pakiri Beach which is about an hour and a half north of Auckland. I was surrounded by pine forests, native bush, and a coastline full of gifts that the ocean generously offered up. This was my playground, where endless hours were spent exploring an ever changing environment, and where there was no shortage of natural materials to engage with. I still visit regularly and it’s a great place to find the feathers I use in my art. My mother was very creative and she ensured there was also an abundance of art supplies around for my brother and I to use – paints, pens, crayons, papier mache, clay, and lots of glue and string to bind things together. Mum was also a filmmaker, actor, painter, photographer, teacher, sculptor, and the most incredible cook – she had the ability to make everything taste and look delicious.
My dad was a cabinet maker prior to severing his spinal cord in a building accident, and he built our home at Pakiri when he was in his early 20’s.
I get my passion for native wood from him and really admire the way he still creates bread boards from reclaimed timber, even though he has used a wheelchair since 1995.”
How did you transition into becoming a paid artist? Did you have a prior career?
“I left school just before turning 15, and have worked in many different roles since. My first daughter was born when I was 20, and I have always prioritised being an available parent over working outside the home. I have a very supportive partner who encourages my creativity and values my role as a home maker, so I have a lot of freedom when it comes to playing with ideas. When The Poi Room first opened their doors in 2008, I was working as a stylist for NZ House and Garden Magazine. I featured some of their artists’ products in the pages I compiled, and later needed an outlet for the LP record art I had just started producing - wall art in the form of silhouettes of native birds. Towards the end of 2009 I began working there a few days a week. I stayed for 4 years, then returned briefly 7 years later to recharge my creative juices - being surrounded by so much incredible art all day was very inspiring.
What does a typical day look like?
I love witnessing the sun rise and set – Mother Nature is the most incredible artist, and I often take myself to places where I can see her magnificent displays in the sky and across the water. If I can hear a dawn chorus it’s an even more special way to start a day.
For most of this year I have focused on sewing Huia feathers out of vintage materials and lace that I mainly source from local charity shops. This involves regular visits which I liken to treasure hunting. I will often leave the shops with bags of beautifully detailed doilies, tablecloths, napkins, and neckties that will eventually become art. I enjoy fossicking through boxes of cast offs and injecting new life into things that have seen better days. Traditional lace making is a fascinating, time consuming process and the types that are available vary dramatically. The delicate complexity of the patterns reminds me of intricate spider webs, and the endless connections we make as we travel through life.
I am frequently pleasantly interrupted by the sound of little footsteps coming down the path, a knock on the door, and someone calling out “Nana”. I feel incredibly lucky to have my grandchildren living so close (Florence, nearly 4, and Leo, nearly 2).
Leo and I spend a day together each week exploring the neighbourhood and I have introduced him to a fabulous op shop that has recently opened down the road – Waiōrea Community Recycling Centre.
When I’m not sewing on my late mother’s Bernina machine, I get great pleasure from gardening. I have rich soil thanks to the chickens I keep, and they are nice to chat to as I weed and plant. It’s great to be able to pick fresh salad ingredients and flowers for the table. Nature is a great healer, so I get my hands and feet in the dirt as often as possible.
I also enjoy experimenting with food so there is often something bubbling in a pot, or baking in the oven.
No day is the same, but they are always full and I never feel bored.
What was the inspiration for your recent exhibition work?
I am very conscious of our limited time here on earth, and how quickly life can change. My father had just turned 47 when he had his accident, and my mother lost her battle with cancer when she was only 50. I have outlived her now so I feel privileged to still be around and try not to take a single day for granted.
The theme was one of remembrance, and celebrating the beauty of the now extinct Huia. I hoped to raise awareness about the fragility of life, and the importance of protecting our precious native flora and fauna.
I am also really interested in relationships and the different ways in which we are all linked. While I do like to play with other options, most of my Huia feathers are tipped with some form of lace to symbolise connection.
So much of your creative practice is inspired by the Huia. Can you tell us some of the history around the bird?
The last official sighting of Huia was in December of 1907 – 2 males and 1 female.
They were very friendly birds who mated for life and had a call that was easily mimicked. This made them easy to capture and often the surviving partner died of a broken heart soon after losing their mate.
There were other factors that contributed to their demise, including deforestation, and introduced pests, but ultimately, it was their unique tail feathers that sealed their fate. Initially reserved for chiefs of high rank, and those with great mana, their feathers became seen as mere accessories when the Duke of York was presented with one during a royal visit. After placing it in his hat, people wanted to emulate his look, and demand for them became high. While moves were eventually made to protect them, including setting up sanctuaries on Little Barrier and Kāpiti islands, it was too little, too late, and Huia were never stocked.
Huia feathers are now revered and earlier this year, a single one sold at Webb’s Auction house in Auckland for $46,521.
Do you have any final words to share with us about your creative process?
I recently created some Huia feathers for a woman who asked me to use a doily that her late grandmother had made. They were very close and she still felt deeply connected to her and wanted a piece of art to reflect the bonds they shared. It was a very special process to be part of and it made me think about other ways of honouring those not still physically present.
There are occasions like weddings and significant anniversaries where people want opportunities to include departed loved one’s in the proceedings. I love the idea of creating feather brooches out of someone’s favourite clothing. Imagine the connection if everyone in a wedding party wore something made from granddad’s old necktie, or grandma’s old wedding dress…
I feel like the possibilities are endless, and I look forward to seeing where these ideas may lead.
