The Black Robin

The Black Robin and Archangel Michael

The Black Robin lives in the Chatham Islands off the east coast of Aotearoa, New Zealand and like many birds they have had an immense struggle to survive as a species.   The Black Robin had succumbed to the introduction of pests like rats and along with the destruction of their habitat stood very little chance of survival.  Extinction seemed inevitable for the robins.   In 1980 there were only 5 individual birds left in the world!   They existed on a windswept scraggy rock called Little Mangere Island and of these 5 there was only two females and of these 2 only one was fertile.  Her name was 'Old Blue'.    With the plight of the robins being so dire the New Zealand Wildlife Service had to act quick.   Don Merton an experienced conservationist set in motion a plan to move the remaining birds to Mangere Island and have eggs from Old Blue incubated by Tomtits.  Through trial and error and over a number of years the Black robin population slowly increased.  Today there are about 250 Black Robins all descended from 'Old Blue' who lived to the grand old age of 14 which is a remarkable feat when the average life expectancy for the species was between 4 - 10 years.    Thanks to Old Blue, Don Merton and Kiwi innovation the Black robin continues to be still with us today.

In this icon dedicated to 'Old Blue' we see her take flight as Archangel  Michael the protector of the universe oversees and guards the whole of creation.

Prints are available here

Horomatangi

I grew up by Lake Taupo.  It has always been a beautiful place but just under the surface of what can be at times a perfectly still and mirrored lake is a bubbling cauldron of thermal activity.  Lake Taupo is a huge crater lake.   I myself have nearly drowned in it three times but Horomatangi hasn't managed to get me yet!

A taniwha in Lake Taupo.

This fierce taniwha lives by Motutaiko, an island in Lake Taupo, in an underwater cave on the western side.  People used to avoid the island because Horo-matangi, if he saw them, would lash the water into high waves, overturn their waka and carry them down to his cave.  This happened in good weather as well as bad.

At times Horo-matangi assumes the form of a reptile, or the form of a black rock.  Some say he is an old man red as fire.  His attendant Atiamuri, a taniwha in the shape of a man, was not dangerous in himself but would act as a decoy, attempting to lure unsuspecting travellers in Horo-matangi's direction.  At twilight he would paddle a waka towards a settlement by the lake, going just near enough to be dimly seen.  When the villagers called a welcome, he would disappear into the darkness and they would realise that Atiamuri had been trying to lure them to their death.

Many people have considered Horo-matango to be the custodian of the mana of Lake Taupo.  Certain tohunga were his mediums, such as Te Ihu at Tapuaeharuru, who was said sometimes to live with him in his cave.  As well, Horo-matangi is associated with two stone dogs high up on the Karangahape cliffs, on the lake's western shore.  These dogs are never seen but may be heard howling on misty mornings.  If paddlers on the lake were ever foolish enough to insult them by pointing their paddle or calling to them, Horomatangi would at once send a storm.

The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Maori Myth and Legend.  Margaret Orbell  Canterbury University press 1995. pg. 67

Regan O'Callaghan 'Horomatangi' acrylic painting, taniwha, Lake Taupo, Mount Ruapehu, Mount Tongariro,

Today I heard a Blackbird sing

Today I heard a Blackbird sing.

I often sit in my studio painting in silence.  I can be down here for hours and not see or speak with anyone.  But it is never truly silent. The inner conversations that go on in my head remind me of many things, jobs that need to be done and memories of friends I miss.  In the very still moments emerges the subtle feelings of aloneness which speak from deep within my being, a part of my being I call the sacred space. This voice I need to listen to.

There is a Blackbird that regularly sings outside my studio it also digs up the moss in the roof gutters of the Church Hall looking for worms and leaving the moss flung onto the pavement below.   I think it is probably doing the church a favour as it is unblocking the gutters ready for the next downpour!   I love it when the Blackbird sings as its song pierces the silence of the studio drowning out the tick of the clock and this mad priests ravings.

The Blackbird is naturally a forest dweller but with the forests being cut down it has learnt to adapt to suburban and city living.  This ability to adapt has meant that it has thrived while other birds have disappeared. In New Zealand where it was introduced it has prospered so well that many New Zealanders think it is a native!  Its darting through gardens and prancing on lawns while shrilly declaring its territory is now truly etched into the psyche of the nation.

This ability to adapt doesn't come naturally to all species and certainly not to all humans!  A general observation of western society might suggest it is the voices with the loudest shrill demands that gain ownership and domination of territories while the quieter types flitter about in the background!   However this is not to taint the Blackbird with our own quirks of nature.

For me the Blackbird is a symbol of strength and adaptability in an ever changing world. Its vibrant black plumage, yellow beak and ringed eye speaks of a bold character who perseveres come what may.  Walking home I often see it darting under and between parked cars on tarmac roads.  A harsh and unforgiving environment surely so foreign to it that I feel sad and yet I am thankful that this remarkable little bird is there.

Photo a detail taken from a work in progress.The Almighty and the Blackbird2011.

For the Love of Birds.

"Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all"       

Emily Dickinson

I spent part of my childhood on a farm a few miles out from a little town called Taihape in the North Island of New Zealand.  I have a very clear memory of asking my stepfather if there were any Kiwis in the surrounding countryside.   There were none.   Kiwis are forest dwellers and the forest had been cleared a couple of generations before to make way for sheep and cattle.   The trees that dotted the landscape were mostly introduced species like the plum trees in the orchard where I would spend time climbing and hiding or the big Macrocarpa trees behind the dogs kennels where Magpies roosted and sometimes dive bombed.

I loved birds.  One of my first pets was a Australian cockatiel named Joey.    He lived in a cage but was often let out and eventually when we moved back to Taupo released into a large aviary in our garden.  Around this time I also had a pet magpie who as a young bedraggled sick looking bird wandered onto our property.  I nursed him back to health.  He flew around our neighborhood and would return when I whistled.  One day he just disappeared.    I like to think it was the call of the wild.

I started painting birds at an early age.  Seabirds, parrots and owls all appeared in my work and I was fascinated by the very rare New Zealand birds most people hadn’t seen or even heard about.  The Hioho, Piopio, Huia, Takahe, Hihi and others inspired me and saddened me at the same time.  Some having become extinct.  In Maori culture birds have an important role.  Its not surprising they feature so prominently as Aotearoa was originally a land of birds.  There were no land mammals except for bats.  Birds ruled.  This all changed with the arrival of man and rats, stoats and possums.

Gone but nor forgotten.

On the day my father died I went round to my grandmothers.  A few of us gathered to share our feelings and begin to discuss funeral plans.  As we talked a Pīwakawaka ( a small bird with a fan tail)  flew into the room and flitted around us twittering before darting out.  To some including my superstitious grandmother this was a bad omen.  For me I saw it as a beautiful sign, a sign of hope.

Birds feature in my art often as symbols of hope and as representations of dreams of  fluttering wings and haunting birdsong deep from within forgotten forests.    The story of God promising that ravens would bring food to Elijah is a reminder of something we often choose to forget.  We need birds.  They remind us of the beauty of the world and its mysteries.  Their flight is inspirational their song heart moving.    Without them we are lost.  The now extinct Huia is a case in point.  There is a story that says the Huia was the first bird to sing at the rising of the sun and once it had started singing all the other birds would join in with the dawn chorus filling the land with song.    Today the Huias song has been silenced along with much of the song of creation.   The remaining forests in New Zealand are virtually silent.   Thankfully the conservation movement in New Zealand is working hard to protect what is left.

Gone but not forgotten.

 “Elijah and the ravens”Oil pastel on paper1996.   

Te Aroha O Rongoheikume

Regan O'Callaghan lucy's wharenui, Taupo Museum, New Zealand

Te Aroha O Rongoheikume(For the love of Lucy)

" Between 1924 and 1927 Tene Waitere (my great great uncle) worked on a set of carvings for his niece Lucy Rongoheikume Reid (left), daughter of Taima Te Ngahue. Lucy is my great-grandmother. The carvings were for a wharenui (house) which wasn't built. They were bequeathed to the people of Taupo in 1960 but mostly stayed in storage until 2000 when the wharenui was finally erected in the Taupo Museum.

When you enter the wharenui it is customary to take off your shoes. Inside are more panels carved by Tene. They represent our ancestors. Growing up I can remember in my grandmothers back garden another carving by Tene. It was slowly rotting away. I drew it as part of a project for school.  The design was used on the cover of the end of year school magazine. Tene was a renowned master carver.  He was often commissioned to carve pieces for visiting dignitaries including the Prince of Wales in 1921 and the Duke and Duchess of York in 1927.