Remembrance, after all, in essence is nothing other than a quotation.

W.G. Sebald, Unrecounted (trans. 2004)

This series of photographs was made in and around the small Bay of Plenty town of Kawerau. The photographs were made during several walks over the course of a year. Kawerau is my hometown — my family lived there for about 30 years. Kawerau was established in 1953 as an adjunct to the newly constructed Tasman Pulp and Paper Mill. Kawerau takes its name from a Maori chief who lived in the area around 1200AD.

In returning to Kawerau and placing myself in its landscapes, I hoped the photographs I made would reflect the sense of unease I have always felt about this place. My feelings in that regard seem to be shared by others who grew up there. Some local kaumātua believe there are places in the town, and past events, that continue to exert an unhappy influence on Kawerau.

Simon Schama, writing in Landscape and Memory, talks about ‘moments of recognition in places that expose their connections to ancient and peculiar visions’ and he observes that ‘to see the ghostly outline of an old landscape beneath the superficial covering of the contemporary is to be made vividly aware of the endurance of core myths’.

I acknowledge Ngati Tuwharetoa as the kaitiakitanga of the land on which this work was made.