Five views of something hidden 1

Five views of something hidden 1

When first experiencing Gabriel Kuri’s Five views of something hidden 1, all one sees is a small protrusion of pale grey–mauve fabric poking through a hole in a blank white wall. Walking around to the other side, the protrusion is revealed to be part of a large, printed banner of Mount Taranaki at sunset. The banner is strung up by its corners with the printed side to the wall. Taranaki, the maunga, is the often elusive landmark at the heart of the Taranaki region, where Kuri undertook a residency in 2006. The mountain often hides for days behind thick layers of cloud, and more often than not is invisible from Ngāmotu New Plymouth.

Here, too, Kuri’s reproduction of a commercial photograph mimics Taranaki’s elusiveness as we can only see the reverse side of the print, and the artwork is partially occluded from every angle. Like much of Kuri’s work, it is enigmatic and uncanny, a thoughtful speculation that explores the theme of the hidden. The abstract and symbolic aspects of the work in counterpoint to its enticing tactility and formalism.

Five views of something hidden 1 is a work deeply embedded in place. Not only does it reflect on the personal observations Kuri made while living in New Plymouth and symbolically represent the region, but it served as the introductory artwork of Kuri’s 2006 exhibition and thanks in advance. Sitting on a purpose-built wall at the entrance of the gallery, the work created a circular flow, forcing visitors to navigate around the work to enter the space.

As an artist, Kuri is drawn to the material manifestations of the everyday. His practice operates as a personal index of odd juxtapositions using natural, industrial and consumer items. Kuri’s works challenge the viewer to re-examine their surroundings with something akin to his sharp and poetic wit.

— Amy Lewis, 2022