Turumeke Harrington: Loose Units

It’s been a busy year for Turumeke Harrington (b. 1992 Otāutahi Christchurch, Kāi Tahu). The young artist is rapidly becoming a creative force and a distinct voice in contemporary art in Aotearoa. For most, just looking through her recent exhibition history is enough to induce fatigue, but Harrington is eager to show her gratitude for this current wave of opportunities. Still, she is remarkably forthcoming about those persistent doubts and insecurities that hover over both her person and her practice. Rather than contending against them, Harrington allows these undercurrents of self-doubt to permeate her making, leaning into this vulnerability with a flagrant authenticity to create work that is bold and disarming.

Loose Units refers not only to the way in which this exhibition has come together—made up of both new and existing works and fragments of larger works—but is also a playful dig at Harrington’s own expense and a nod to her way of working through multiple ideas and materials at once. Here, the artist brings together the many loose and varied units that make up her practice. The assembly of works in this exhibition reveals the breadth and intensity of her production and offers some insight into the often-overwhelming act of making. For Harrington, allowing herself to make mistakes is equally as important as getting it ‘right.’

Despite an apparent ability to turn her hand to any medium, she goes on to reveal that, like many artists (particularly women) she is susceptible to imposter syndrome. It seems Harrington’s greatest fear (and she’s only half-joking) is that some member of a textile guild will confront her about her unorthodox technique or the quality of her stitching. Alongside her formal qualifications, the artist’s practice is equally grounded in intergenerational learning, with her mother, grandmother, and wider whānau passing on sewing, knitting, beading, and applique skills to the young and inquisitive Harrington.

For this exhibition, the artist was eager to introduce some of those more visibly handmade aspects of her practice—where accidents and imperfections are often laid bare—alongside those more streamlined and meticulously executed industrial works. Three existing sculptures act as anchors or pivotal units, each bringing with them the mana tūpuna of other exhibitions, and delineating both conception and physical movement through the space of the gallery.

Around these three central pou a vortex of other work revolves. The steadfast nature of these existing pieces allows for a slightly more raucous gathering of supporting subjects, objects, and materials. Animals, plants, and insects scurry around the edges in a series of brightly coloured paintings on canvas, reflecting Harrington’s preoccupation with indigenous and introduced species. The artist has created something of her own set of symbology that is at once playful and acerbic, encompassing narratives of colonisation and cultural appropriation, sexuality, social and economic privilege, and gatekeeping. It is through a wilful and genuine loosening that the different arms of Harrington’s practice—and those new emerging appendages—are allowed to coalesce.