Akaroa, Originally French, Now Just Fanciful

Akaroa is a small town on the Banks Peninsula, remnant of a failed attempt of the French to get a toehold into the "Let us Europeans colonize the South Pacific!" game of the1800s.  A French whaler doctored a deed in 1838 saying he owned the Banks Peninsula, and on this flimsy piece of paper he was able to raise enough money back in France to outfit a whaling ship with a few colonists to return.  So in 1840, 57 settlers survived the Pacific passage (some died on the voyage) to found Akaroa, in Akaroa Harbour.  The settlers were mostly French but 12 of them were Germans.  I'm sure there was something Catholic going on with that, and a quick history skim shows there was some crackdown on practicing Catholicism and inter-religion marriages in the 1830s-40s.  Of course as soon as there was a village they built a little Catholic church, and some of the settlers had some specifically to be missionaries, with a plan to proselytize and convert the native Maori, who also had a settlement on the Banks Peninsula.  Long story short, the French failed their deep south foothold, but all the streets are still named things like Rue Jolie and Rue Renard.

    I took some time this week to explore The Giant's House, a place I'd read about but never had a chance to visit when I went on my birthday exploration of the Banks Peninsula last year.   This place is bonkers, and so beautiful.  It wouldn't have been as magnificent in the winter, right now everything is fully blooming, all the red and yellows dahlias, waxy pink sedum, glowing orange nasturium making the many glazed faces of the mosaics glow with the extremes of natural and unnatural materials.

Josie Martin is the blue haired artist specializing in horticulture and ceramics who is responsible for the current form of the Giant's House.

In a video interview playing in the indoor exhibit Josie Martin describes the shiny glaze on the pottery of her mosaics looking like sequins in the evening, when she turns the lights of the garden on.  I keep coming to that idea, because even on a sunny day the slick surface of the ceramic vs the natural materials of the garden met in surprising and beautiful harmony.

The Giant's House was apparently christened after a local child looked up at the three story building atop a rather impressive hill and said it looked like a giant must live there.  It was built in 1880, for the Bank of New Zealand's first Bank Manager.  The home is made from native kauri and totara, trees that grow straight and tall and both have lifespans of more than 1,000 years.  The modern version of the home has big, welcoming windows on all three floors, and I could see Josie Martin with her blue hair in the sitting room on the first floor, so parts of it are definitely still used for everyday living.

The stripes and spots and different shades of yellow and orange glaze made me giddy.

This place is so welcoming.  I wonder if I would feel the same if it were slick right after a rain or a heavy dew?

Look at this sultry minx.  I mean the ceramic kitty, obvi.

After huffing and puffing up the steep driveway I huffed and puffed up some staircases.

Josie Martin self portraits in ceramic.  Look at the gilt edged flowers, and that yellow tiger lily that kind of looks like a banana.

I had to check the bum to make sure this was a rabbit, not a kangaroo.  Definitely rabbit, fluffy butt cotton tail.

See, cotton-tail.

Seating area that is a bit open flower, petals and stamens thrusting, so forward, so rude, so sensual.

Part of the outdoor exhibit is labeled as Garden of the Senses.

Octopus as touch.  The better to touch you with, my dear.

Sight - the Owl.

Taste - the Giraffe.

I think this person would have been appropriate for Taste, as well.

Sound - Elephant.  Big ears so you know the elephant is in trumpet pose.

Smell - Skunk

But also smell, the ceramic durian fruit.  I guess it could be a jackfruit, they're about the same size and both quite knobbly.  

So many celebratory birds.

I love these gay peacock dads.

Is this also a peacock?  It feels like it should be a cel from something animated, there's so much personality you know that little green bird could strut along to some piece of classical music 

These steps led to the grand piano, which was also covered in fruit.

The words around the base of this statue read "YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN ROMANCE IS GOING TO SNEAK UP ON YOU."  I would argue with this if I felt the artist meant romantic love, but I feel like romance as in a sense of narrative meaning and sensory exhuberance then yes, hell yes Josie Martin, I can get behind this.

This Sweet Patooti Kills Fascists.

Kitty Katch-Me and the Rolling Dice.  The yellow bench is inlaid with a bunch of native birds.

Harakeke, new zealand flax in bloom.

Not every symbol was straightforward and beautiful.  There were these arachnids, and crustaceans, and of course a rainbow staircase.

You can really see where the horticultural design shines through.  See the cohesiveness of the lemon trees behind these dancers with their lemon yellow mutual contact juggling practice?

The angel makes me think the figure to the left is a saint or some sort, but I'm not sure what religious allusions might be going on here.

This sneaky little devil on the shoulder slipped my attention at first.  What does it whisper in the ear of the saint?

All this whimsy, and on my drive off of the Banks Peninsula traffic had to stop because a herd of sheep was being guided down the road by a couple good working dogs (German Shepherd mixes, tall and rangy and in their element nipping and body slamming the rare sheep who got out of line).  This is an ordinary enough occurrence that I saw several signs posted "Stock Route" and the little ATV at the back of the herd driven by the shepherd in high viz orange vest had a reflective plate that read "Stock Ahead."

Just another magical corner of New Zealand.  Classic "oh, this old thing?  I just threw it on" like it's an ordinary Tuesday, and not like it's one of the weirdest, most delightful, quirky, and beautiful things I've ever encountered.