



I’m sick of talking about art in the context of how dire the current artistic landscape is. We get it; there’s no funding, AI is taking over the world, Bachelor of Arts graduates are somewhat screwed (I can say that, I am one), and Act’s arts spokesman took 20 minutes to think of a single Kiwi author or book. But fuck feeding that narrative. Art deserves more than to be reduced to a price tag or technological doom.
Art can be a slippery concept. It may call to mind paint by numbers kits from your childhood, the mural on the side of Thirsty, drawing a still-life of an apple in high school, or smooth-walking through a gallery with an adopted air of snobbery, whispering to your friend, “I could do that.” Really, though, we’re surrounded by and engage with art constantly – you’d feel its absence if art were to be sucked from the world.
Whether it’s through a painting, a book, a film, a song, or a really cracker poem, art is an effective tool for creative expression and storytelling. You feel its effects when the corners of your lips have tugged up and your eyes adorn a twinkle as your imagination bursts open. When you have adopted a new perspective on something, felt full to the brim with ideas and a deep-rooted sense of admiration for the world, or commiserated in a sense of relief that you’re not alone in your darkest fears.
Pause for a second. Consider when you’ve felt the most inspired in your life. Was it when you left the movies? Put down a novel to absorb a paragraph that felt like a gut punch? Looked out the window of a bus, ear buds in, and listened to a song that matched your mood perfectly, and later screamed the lyrics to it at a gig? Related to an existential monologue by a cartoon man with a horse head? That’s art.
Andrew Garfield hit home the importance of art to me when I listened to an episode of the New York Times podcast ‘Modern Love’ titled ‘Andrew Garfield wants to crack your heart open’. The interview was part of the press tour for his and Florence Pugh’s movie We Live in Time. To me, the movie was a masterpiece. Full of intimate and raw moments from
their relationship – washing dishes and debriefing about a dinner party, cracking eggs for breakfast, and navigating Florence’s character’s cancer diagnosis – it depicted real life. The quiet moments that are part of the human experience, but usually happen behind closed doors.
Part of the Modern Love show structure is that each guest is invited to read an essay of their choice. Midway through reading an essay written from the perspective of an imprisoned man who wanted to be “the best prisoner he could be”, something unexpected happened: Andrew started to cry. It was after a sentence about how the man’s wife no longer wears a bikini, which made him sad: “She’s a beautiful woman with grey in her hair. ”Asked what moved him, he said, “It’s mysterious. It’s why art is so important – it can get us to places we can’t get to any other way.”
Andrew spoke about a philosophy called ‘onism’, the sorrow of knowing you will only be able to live your own life, that you are restricted to your own life and its experiences. But art is an opportunity to step into someone else’s head. It encourages empathy, complexity, and nuance in a way that the attention economy has flattened (there’s only so much a clickbait headline can convey). Artists notice and they share this in beautiful and varied forms. They are the most honest among us, putting pieces of themselves into their work, expressing things that others experience but don’t say out loud.
It’s difficult to encapsulate all that art has to offer in just one editorial – it beautifies, mystifies, connects, and communicates. Then on the night of print, midway through writing this I was blessed with a viewing of staff writer Jono’s inter-flat beef diss track parodying ‘Not Like Us’ (with accompanying video) that reminded me of one characteristic I’d been missing: art is also just fun.
NINA BROWN
To all able-bodied and cisgender students,
Why is it that every time I go to use any all-access bathroom, it's occupied by one of you for UNGODLY amounts of time? (Before you protest, count the number of trans AND/OR disabled people you know. Exactly.) Can y'all PLEASE use the bathrooms SPECIFICALLY designed for you? The all-access bathroom isn't the 'big toilet'. It's a small morsel of accessibility I have at Otago Uni. How dare you treat it like a luxury. (#ableist) There's barely any all-access bathrooms in one place on campus, so I have to risk pissing my pants and being late for class to run to the next nearest one. Don't be selfish, but moreover, don't be a prick!! Acknowledge your privilege and change. PS - if you're offended, then this definitely applies to you.
Pissing off now,
A very pissed disabled trans student who just wants to piss
Editor's Response: Very valid, although I will note that some disabilities are invisible. Send letters to the editor to critic@critic.co.nz to be in to win a
To the desk of the editor,
I’d love to say I’m shocked by OUSA’s u-turn on its BDS policy, but I’m not. I’ve clashed with them before, and it seems the points I raised earlier this semester about Jett Groshinkis’ conflict of interest have come home to roost. My chats with Liam painted a picture that they’d learned their lesson and would do better in future (hah!), but clearly, that was nothing more than lip service.
Once again, the OUSA Exec has acted against the interests of the students who voted them in, sneaking through decisions without any consultation from students or even the protestors who fought for the policy. The old boys’ club is back in action, and once again, they’re scrambling in damage control over a crisis they could’ve avoided if they’d just stepped outside their echo chamber.
Printing posters again, Fergus Parks
Dear Mrs Critic,
I would like to sincerely thank whoever decided to feature Christopher Paolini in this week's crossword. Paolini is an absolute G of an author who doesn't get enough recognition (bro started a book series at age 15 that has sold 40 million copies). As a strong fantasy genre hater, Paolini is the only one to write fantasy I have actually enjoyed, so if you haven't already y'all should read The Inheritance Cycle!!!
Yours truly,
A Paolini superfan (#fuckthemhaters)
Dear Critical Critic,
The choice of OUSA to drop the BDS policy was the grown-up thing to do. I would like the loud, angry minority to remember OUSA is a student union. When we voted for BDS, we had no idea it might force OUSA to choose between student services/activism and BDS. And frankly, it would be a grotesque spectacle if OUSA make people unemployed just for this policy.
Everyone with a moral compass supports BDS in principle, of course. But a referendum is not binding, and OUSA is the responsible government. If Student Support closes tomorrow, we would hold OUSA to account, not the advocates who hijacked it.
From, Neil
Dear Sister single from last week's issue,
Don't give up; we do exist.
Best of luck,
Bachelor's Degree, Minor in Hope
Dear Critic
Do students bemoaning OUSA's abandonment of BDS think that starving themselves of a Dominoes pizza will stop starvation in Gaza?
Pizza lover
Letters should be 150 words or fewer. The deadline is Thursday at 5pm. Get them into Critic by emailing us at critic@critic.co.nz. Letters of a serious nature directly addressing a specific group or individual will not be published under a pseudonym, except in extraordinary circumstances as negotiated with the Editor. Critic Te Ārohi reserves the right to edit, abridge, or decline letters without explanation. Frequently published correspondents in particular may find their letters abridged or excluded. Defamatory or otherwise illegal material will not be printed. We don’t fix the spelling or grammar in letters. If a letter writer looks stupid, it’s because they are.
Otago Students for Justice in Palestine (OSJP) are holding a rally on Tuesday, August 19th at midday to ask Vice-Chancellor Grant to talk about institutional neutrality
Students at Massey halls of residence are “paying more for less”, paying for laundry on top of increased rent, Massive reports
Vic Uni’s Exec have been called “red and green” by Stu News, following revelations about Labour and Green Party affiliations. Students interviewed said they thought candidates should have to disclose party ties in the upcoming elections
The University has said it will consider appealing to the environmental court to get rid of the Archway Lecture Theatre's heritage listings so they can demolish it in the future.
Registrations for Massey Uni’s Aviation Open Day increased after a student took a solo flight path in the shape of a giant cock and balls, Massive reports
Postgrad Rep Josh Stewart is inviting nominations for the annual Supervisor of the Year award! Scan the QR code to get nominating
The Protect Otago Action Group (POAG) are inviting all staff and students to join a revival public forum on August 21st in the Main Common Room at 5:30pm. “Fee hikes, impending cuts: You can say no!”
The ODT has reported that a cabinet paper provided by Vocation Minister Penny Simmonds said that “Otago [Polytech’s] staffing of 600 workers for 4,700 full-time equivalent students was too high”
Secondary school teachers are striking for a day this Wednesday after the Government offered a 1% pay increase in collective agreement negotiations, Stuff reports
Residential Rep Callum’s honorarium has been cut in half for the next month (for the second time) after meeting about half of his expected hours this quarter
OUSA was busted taking down more posters by Fergus Parks. The new artwork (not targeting Political Rep Jett this time) read, “OUSA policy. See no, hear no, speak to no students.”
The Highlanders have announced the signing of All Blacks player Angus Ta’avao Nurses are set to strike again in September, this time for two days, after Health NZ failed to address concerns about understaffing and cost-cutting raised at their last strike, RNZ reports
Ōtepoti band IVY have announced their debut album ‘Hush’ will be released on September 12th. This will be followed by a national tour with the Beatniks, with Dunedin shows on the 3rd and 5th of October
than Usual 10
Betrayal from the Inside? 11
14
Is OUSA's lecture recording policy doomed?
To fight for their proposed lecture recording policy, the OUSA Exec team, chalk in hand, marched outside to do a deadly battle. Despite the bitter cold and rainclouds forming, concrete outside the OUSA offices was transformed into a sea of chalked messages – before immediately getting washed away overnight.
OUSA has been working toward a mandatory lecture recording policy for some time now. Critic reported on arguments for recordings in 2022 (back when your sister was at uni) and Academic Rep Stella Lynch said, "We were in staff-student consultation this time last year." So… a while. The Exec thought the policy had momentum, but a recent tip from a Deputy ViceChancellor (DVC) revealed more opposition than anticipated. Hence, the “demonstration” (not a protest, they insisted).
By Harry Almey Contributor // news@critic.co.nz
she explained, packing some punches. Lecture recordings were supposedly "super hit-or-miss […] depending on the day, department, lecturer and what side of the bed they woke up on." In every consultation, psychology was singled out as the naughtiest child. Senior staff in the Psychology Department have allegedly claimed their recording policy was “superior cognitively." Those brainiacs.
“Every other NZ uni has policies to make lecture recordings available to a larger degree than [Otago]," she claimed students had confided in her. Some allegedly would have swapped unis if they knew the state of Otago's lecture recordings; some already have.
While Brock has said, "[OUSA's] proposed approach is consistent with many other domestic and international university policies,” it’s the Senate vote in October that has got OUSA worried. Following the end of the policy consultation later this month, the Senate vote is made up of "senior academics", with an "overwhelmingly negative" view on recorded lectures, explains Stella.
Out came the chalk. The demonstration involved writing all the reasons for a mandatory recording policy on the concrete. The idea was that these chalk arguments would then grow like black mould, until they reached staff workspaces where they "couldn't ignore them". While the lads in green set out general points such as, "English isn't my first language," "I have clashes," and "It isn't 1995" (true!), students were slow to join them. What's worse, Stella Lynch was late to her own demonstration. But she had a valid excuse: working on recording policy consultation! "Work" was the word which kept whipping about this issue. Critic spoke to three students who, despite being in favour of the policy, did not attend the demonstration. One explained that she was taking unpaid breaks from her fixed-hours office job to attend an unrecorded History lecture. Another student was more forceful: "I have work with casual, irregular hours. If I don't work, even if it clashes with an unrecorded lecture, well, I need to eat and pay rent." He added, "Sorry, couldn't protest. Had work." Ahem, it's a demonstration, not a protest.
A big reason for the negativity is attendance. Lecturers hear "recording" and think of their paper of seventy, which only thirty show up to. DVC Brock emphasised that while recordings support equity of access, any policy would underline that they were no substitute to regular on-campus lectures. Stella, meanwhile, pushed against the "myth of the lazy student", who is really dealing with cost of living, poor mental health, sickness-inducing flatting conditions, and time poverty. "We pay for tuition, and we'd still like to have it [if we get sick]," she pointed out, adding, "I have severe ADHD, I wouldn't have passed Ecology or Zoology without recordings."
Stella explained that the new policy, the first Uni policy ever put forward by OUSA, would mandate lecture recordings – as long as technology allowed and there were no ethical needs for privacy. In a statement provided to Critic, DVC Stuart Brock said that as it had been last revised "several years ago" (in 2016, specifically) it was necessary to update the policy.
Stella did not disagree. "We're behind – back of the pack,"
So, will Stella's blood, sweat, tears, and chalk support students as she hopes? And will this demonstration-not-a-protest be recorded? In the meantime, don’t expect the chalk outside Auahi Ora to disappear anytime soon (or Critic’s cold from reporting in the rain).
Pick your poison: Gale force winds or frosty roads
Dunedin may be the undisputed student city of Aotearoa, but Wellington is not far behind. Both cities are also known for being cold and miserable at times, and especially known for their shit flats. Critic Te Ārohi took a look at what your local council will do for you when shit hits the fan in your flat.
When not writing for Critic, Zoe Eckhoff has been part of a wellpublicised flatting drama with a particularly notorious Ōtepoti landlord for the better part of this year, involving three-hour long Tenancy Tribunal hearings. Inspired by these experiences, she spoke to the Dunedin City Council (DCC) at a meeting to offer solutions for flatting issues.
Zoe has now been in the ODT twice, Stuff Magazine, RNZ, and even 1News regarding student tenancies in Ōtepoti, but “sitting in front of the mayor and all the council members is very intimidating”. “Nothing could have prepared me for how nerve wracking it was,” she said. Her mother, Pip, and the mother of her friend, Amanda, spoke alongside her. They offered “cost recoverable solutions” that “would be very beneficial for the Dunedin economy”.
A similar high profile case has just wrapped up in Wellington, with 1News reporting on ‘Students' battle to leave flat after ceiling started leaking sewage’. The story covered a group of tenants in a Kelburn flat struggling to exit a tenancy when continuous plumbing issues were not amended. They were forced on one occasion to take turns emptying buckets throughout the night. In both of these cases, it may be confusing for students to know where and when to get the support needed.
Wellington City Council (WCC) did not respond to our request to comment in time for print, but this is what we found out from them. According to the ‘Rental inspections’ section of their website, mouldy and damp flats can be reported to the WCC. They will send out an inspector free of charge (and without snitching on you to the landlord), referring you to the Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment (MBIE) if necessary. From there, MBIE deals with matters with maintenance of houses and buildings from the Government.
In Ōtepoti, the process is quite different. In a statement sent to Critic by DCC Team Leader (Support, Education and Compliance) Cam Allum, they said, “The Dunedin City Council has only a limited role to play in assisting with complaints relating to the standard of rental housing in Dunedin.” Here, landlords should be notified of any complaints being made to the council. “If the matter remains unresolved, tenants can then approach Tenancy Services, which is a national body based in Wellington involved
By Gryffin Blockley News Editor // news@critic.co.nz
in resolving disputes,” said Allum. Only if the flat is considered ‘dangerous’ or ‘unsanitary’ (which is defined under the Building Act 2004), will the DCC get their hands dirty.
“Depending on the findings of our investigation, we can issue a formal notice requiring action by the building owner to take action to rectify any issues,” Allum continued. The DCC does offer some tenant support, including its own in-house Eco-Design advisor who offers free visits to a flat (for tenants or landlords) for a chat that “includes tips on creating a warm, dry, energy efficient home”. Sick concept (not in a cold house induced way).
From a legal point of view, councils do not necessarily have to get involved with flatting issues, explained Allum. “The requirements for both landlords and tenants are set by legislation (the Residential Tenancies Act 1986) and the DCC does not have a role in the disputes process.” But it is interesting that Pōneke seems to take a more proactive approach with flatting difficulties compared to Dunners.
When Zoe, Pip, and Amanada spoke to the DCC, the three of them proposed that they do something similar to what is conducted by the WCC. “The WCC has a very tight-knit relationship with MBIE,” Zoe told Critic, where essentially the WCC’s team will, upon request, inspect any rental property free of charge. They also do not notify your landlord of either the request being submitted, or the inspection itself being carried out. “This process protects tenants from any power imbalance with their landlord, making inspections more accessible to vulnerable tenants especially,” continued Zoe.
That means if any tenant finds their property is damp or moldy, WCC is onto it within two working days. If necessary, they forward your case onto MBIE who either enforce action or take the case to the tenancy tribunal in serious events. “With MBIE and the council backing up tribunal hearings, it makes it a lot easier for tenants to be served their due justice,” Zoe said, emphasising that, from where she’s standing, that kind of involvement in her tenancy issues at the start of this year would have changed the outcome of her tribunal hearing drastically.
Ultimately, following Zoe’s meeting with the DCC, they ended up sending a letter to MBIE saying it was “the least we could do.” An unsatisfied Zoe agreed. With many students already carefully balancing a degree, work, social lives, and flat chores, it can be overwhelming if things majorly go wrong with your flat. While the DCC does not have the legal role that the Tenancy Tribunal have, they may be able to assist in some way – depending on where you live.
Bikes, bagels, and bargains. The team behind Toitū te Taiao Sustainability Office is continuing a stellar line up of events this year. Toitū te Taiao are the team that runs sustainability initiatives around campus such as Te Oraka, the sustainability neighborhood, and diversion days. Critic Te Ārohi caught up with Abigail Spratt, Waste Minimisation in Shared Spaces Student Lead at the Sustainability Office, to see what good is being done for Papatūānuku.
Hazel Cameron, the Impact Student Lead, recently published Te Oraka’s impact report for semester one. With 778 hours of volunteer work and over 12 events held (on top of normal opening hours), a whopping 4,290 students walked through the doors of the small, but charming op shop. Te Oraka’s kaupapa expands far beyond clothes though, with 118 pre-loved bikes making their way to new homes thanks to donations from Southern Youth Development and e-rescue laptops now available for purchase in store this year. The bike grabs tie in well with ongoing sustainable transport work, which has even seen some collabs with the Dunedin City Council.
Working with Waste Management NZ (WMNZ) on one diversion day was another highlight of the year so far. While a lot of focus is on waste reduction, diversion day emphasises putting your waste in the right place too. Abigail explained, “There’s normally two big skips and then we get as many wheelie bins as possible around the Marsh.” Afterwards, Sustainability Office volunteers (sometimes joined by other groups like Students for Environmental Action or Hold On to Your Friends) will sort waste into the right places. While not so glamorous for the volunteers, it certainly is for Mother Nature. More diversion days are coming up this semester too.
By Gryffin Blockley News Editor // news@critic.co.nz
Perhaps the biggest turnout of any events of the year has been ‘Unpacked’ – a screening of Ocean with David Attenborough Auahi Ora was packed out, along with a korero afterwards with climate experts and marine scientists. “We had a really good tryout in response to it. I think some people were actually quite emotional about it,” Abigail said.
Another ongoing brainchild of the Sustainability Office is the Sustainability Neighbourhood. Nestled amongst a group of UniFlats on Great King Street, the garden provides a chance for the flats to connect and get to know each other – especially beneficial for the many exchange students who call the flats home during the semester. “They tend to have like ready to eat stuff in them so they'll be like silverbeet and kale, all that kind of stuff,” said Abigail. Free food and free power? UniFlat students are really winning at life right now. Look out for the student and staff gardening club later this sem so everyone can grow a feed.
Upcoming initiatives still in the works include another night market. Expect good music and some very tempting deals. As flatting season ramps up too, the annual Drop for Good event makes its much-anticipated return. “I think the numbers will be big this year, which is really exciting obviously!” said Abigal. This provides a chance to hand off unwanted goodies from your flat to a better home – also a massive win, saving the drive out to the tip.
With just over half a semester left, the Susty Office has no plans on slowing down. Expect to keep finding bargains and initiatives that are good for the planet (and the occasional free bagel). To keep in the loop, follow both @sustainability_at_otago and @te_oraka to see their aesthetically pleasing feeds.
Can you put a price on climate change?
Heads up, there’s plans to demolish Nelson! Ridiculous, right? Well, it’s not far from the truth – and 31 protestors blockaded ANZ across the motu on the 8th of August to demonstrate their disapproval.
Bathurst Resources Ltd, Aotearoa’s biggest mining company, has a Fast Track application in the works for permission to mine twenty million tonnes of coal over the next 25 years. And whoopsie daisy, they’ll just have to demolish an area the size of Nelson: Denniston Plateau. The area is special in that so many of Aotearoa’s threatened and endangered species call it home. The roroa (great spotted kiwi), endangered Powelliphanta snails and West Coast Green Gecko are a few inhabitants of this unique, fourty-million year old plateau.
Students Via and Liz were among twenty-nine members of Climate Liberation Aotearoa (CLA) blockading the central Dunedin ANZ branch. CLA is a nationwide group who operate under the principles of climate, justice, and direct action – taking actual, physical action to facilitate change. Liz tells me that ANZ is the only bank in New Zealand that is still providing banking services to Bathurst Resources, so they’ve become a target. Christchurch and Wellington banks were also targeted – the latter attended by Green Party co-leader Chlöe Swarbrick.
On the day of the protest, CLA’s primary goal was to close the bank. It was a success. Just under three hours after they got into position in front of the entrance, the bank closed at 11am after police arrived on the scene. “We’re not going to allow ANZ to continue operating if this is what they’re doing with their finances,” Liz told Critic. In a statement to media (as reported by the ODT and Stuff) ANZ said that the bank was open to engaging with protest groups – having met with climate group 350 Aotearoa previously – and that it had no direct lending exposure over $1 million to coal mining customers. Their current policy is to not lend to new thermal coal mines or expansions/extensions to the operating life of existing coal mines.
Of course, protests don’t happen in a vacuum. Earlier in the year, Critic Te Ārohi interviewed Via the week after they returned from an encampment protest on the Denniston Plateau. They set up a tent conveniently (or inconveniently, depending on what you read) right in the middle of the proposed mine site. “You see this really stark contrast between the areas they’ve done a bit of exploratory stuff [...] there was nothing, it’s scraped totally bare,”
By Tilly Rumball-Smith Staff Writer // news@critic.co.nz
Via said. “There’s just a line and then suddenly there’s all of these mānuka and kānuka and all this wildlife, it’s kiwi habitat.”
Two members of the CLA are, as of writing, currently back in the coal buckets up in Bathurst’s existing mine in Stockham, a move that got a few protestors in legal trouble back in May. Via and Liz explained it’s a “direct way they’ve been limiting the amount of coal [Bathurst] has been able to take out, so they’ve had to use trucks instead.” But not everyone can drop everything to swing to and fro in a coal bucket 83 metres above the ground. Liz tells me that when everyone bands together, they can actually make a difference. “It’s beyond just marching the street, it’s bringing people together with a common cause,” she said.
When Critic asks about the response from passers-by, Liz said there were definitely a few pissed off people personally inconvenienced by the bank closure. CLA protested with the intention of disrupting ANZ’s operations. “Communicating to people that our way of life is going to have to change if we want to survive,” says Liz. The Denniston Plateau is just one example of the Government continuing to act with short term profit in mind, they tell Critic.
Liz encouraged bigger picture thinking. “The climate crisis is going to inconvenience the rest of your life [...] it’s about putting things into perspective.” Via added, “The South Dunedin [ANZ] was open if they really needed to go.” Despite this, most people (beyond angry comments on ODT’s article) were supportive. While they got some heckling, Liz reckoned it’s a pretty easy cause for people to rally behind. Because conservation is valued so highly in New Zealand, protecting the Denniston Plateau is something people tend to empathise with.
Asked why they protested, Via and Liz replied that they find it so much more empowering than feeling depressed while doom-scrolling climate change on TikTok. There’s only so much soft-plastic recycling, public-transport-taking, switching-fromdisposable-vaping we can do to save the planet. Liz said, “Once people realise that actually you can stand up to these policy changes and these huge businesses […] if there are enough of us, we can actually make a difference.” They encouraged any students interested to visit their website or join Tuesday meetings at Knox Church.
Fighting the residential roulette: Covid, flu, or strep?
With Semester 2 well underway, the residential colleges have allegedly been transformed into a cesspit of unknown bacteria, threatening the social lives of freshers left, right, and centre. Yet the unspoken question lies unanswered – are you gonna get Covid, strep or the flu by accidently passing one outside St Dave's?
First-year residents interviewed from Carrington, Salmond, and Unicol were all in agreement about the recent upsurge in illness sweeping their corridors. When asked about the potential increase in infection, one Carrington resident claimed she could “feel it in the air”. Special shoutouts for that “one specific cough, you can hear it in the phlegm”. Ew (gag).
In a statement provided to Critic Te Ārohi by Director of Campus and Collegiate Life Services James Lindsay, he acknowledged that “there has been an increase in respiratory infections and illnesses across the University Community” with many students “voluntarily opting to isolate in their rooms”. However, Lindsay provided no indication of exactly how many students have been hit by the latest surge of fresher flu.
On a slightly more earnest note, one Salmond interviewee told the story of her mate “puking in a bush in the Botans” after attempting the treacherous hike to St Dave’s while plagued with the most recent mystery infection. A nice mix-up from puking in the Subs line, which will undoubtedly have some freshers fighting both alcohol and flu-related bugs on student night.
While spikes in illness are undoubtedly expected around this time of year, you would’ve thought a world run by AI could also fight the common cold. Yet with the first Sem 2 Health Sci test just gone by, one resident of another college told Critic, “It’s debilitating, everyone’s drugged up.” (And certainly not on the normal mix of gear and ket). The poor freshers have been left
By Imogen Perry Contributor // news@critic.co.nz
vitamin C maxing in the hopes they’ll make it to second-year. Meanwhile, it appears most freshers are opting out of isolation in favour of socialisation and human connection (watch out, you could be sitting next to one). When asked about the topic, one Salmond resident replied, “Why would I want to spend a whole day in my tiny little room? We should be isolating for all of it, but no one does.” It seems as though the depression associated with Covid has stimulated an epic wave of lecture-related FOMO. Drowning out your lecturer with the sound of the mucus in the back of your throat must be worth it to some, apparently.
When asked about the implementation of protocols in relation to minimising sickness in halls, Lindsay referenced the “College Handbooks and the Residents’ Guide to Colleges” as the go-to for fighting fresher flu. Advice to students includes: “Advising a staff member, self-isolation, encouraging social distancing and hygiene.” Critic is not currently sure as to whether it is possible for freshers to adopt such human tendencies, but we will get back to you on that one.
In terms of diagnosing Dunedin’s latest mystery plague, it appears Covid is out of fashion, and blindly hoping for the best is in. Lindsay confirmed that residential colleges no longer provide RAT tests to residents on account of the cuts to government funding of Covid tests in 2024. Meanwhile, freshers appear to be content adopting the “I’ll be fine” mentality to Covid, as stated by one particularly diseased Carrington resident.
So next time you hear a first-year hacking and spluttering round the corner in Central, your only option may be to run away. In the words of James Lindsay, “If your symptoms are not improving call Healthline or book an appointment with your GP”. Don’t forget about the immunocompromised student population either; sometimes it’s best to wag those lectures and sleep in rather than spread your germs further.
A special general meeting (SGM) has been called with a motion for OUSA to re-adopt BDS. The culprit? One of OUSA’s own: Political Representative Jett Groshinski. The SGM will take place this Thursday, August 21st, at 1pm in the Main Common Room.
An SGM is an invitation for the student body to gather for and vote on a specific motion. The key thing is that, compared to a referendum, it is binding; the Executive has to do what the students say. In order to hold one, fifty signatures must be gathered. From Critic’s understanding, Jett acquired these under the noses of his Exec, and submitted the motion prior to their meeting last Thursday. It should be noted that Jett did vote against dropping the BDS posture a few weeks back, so has remained presumably outspoken on the matter.
Before the news of the SGM was addressed by the Exec, guests Francisco Hernandez (Greens List MP based in Ōtepoti) and Jomana Moharram (Dunedin-based Greens Youth MP) spoke to their open letter critiquing the decision to abandon BDS posture. Long story short, they believed the Exec shouldn’t have abandoned it, and that they should review the policy for a moderate, phased approach through appropriate consultation.
Once Fran and Jomana left, the next 45 minutes of the meeting was spent in strict committee for reasons of “personal sensitivity” according to President Liam. Much like getting kicked out of a host you stayed a little too long at, all non-Exec – Critic, the OUSA CEO and Secretary – scurried out of the room (looking a bit sour). While feeling #censored, Critic did some Googling. According to the OUSA constitution (give it a read) ‘strict committee’ may only occur “for reasons of confidentiality or commercial sensitivity of the likely content of the discussion”. Liam cleared up the
By Gryffin Blockley News Editor // news@critic.co.nz
constitutionally-ambiguous decision to Critic afterwards by amending his wording to “reasons of confidentiality”.
As a result of the SGM getting pulled by Jett, a motion was passed to remove him from OUSA’s Finance and Expenditure Committee (FESC). Liam explained to Critic that this was due to the Executive expressing “serious concern” regarding their faith in him to keep commercially sensitive information confidential, particularly noting the sensitivity of the upcoming development of the OUSA budget. Keep in mind, this is the second time that Jett has gone behind the Exec’s back – the first being when they found out through an ODT article that he would be running for council, presenting a sizable conflict of interest for OUSA and prompting calls for his resignation.
Another agenda item at the Exec meeting was a review of ‘Liam’s Solution for Peace in the Middle East’ (yes, it really was called this). In this plan, recommendations 1, 2, 2.5, and 4 were set out (not sure what happened to recommendation 3). The Executive unanimously passed a motion to adopt recommendations 2, 2.5, and 4: the recognition of Palestinian statehood; calling-on all Aotearoa MPs to do the same; and publicly supporting Chloe Swarbrick’s “Unlawful Occupation of Palestine Sanctions Bill”. For once, the Exec were all onboard.
What’s recommendation 1 you may ask? That’s to rescind motion 342/25 – AKA the motion that got rid of OUSA’s BDS posture in the first place. Rather than being addressed internally, Jett plans on airing OUSA’s dirty laundry at the SGM on Thursday.
By Molly Smith-Soppet
Flags are a way for communities to display their collective pride and patriotism. Currently, Dunedin does not have a cohesive identity. As the story goes with university towns, every three years there is a whole new batch of students, and therefore a whole new identity. A flag would give students something to feel proud of and be represented by (more than just hall hoodies and ugly uni merch). A true beacon of breathas, a symbol of Scarfies, a design of dropkicks. This flag could give your landlords the motivation to install a flagpole outside your damp, cold, rat-infested flat. So we took some guidance from the NZ government circa 2016 and opened the entries to our student body.
Prompted to create a flag that is uniquely Dunedin, we received an influx of entries, which were then judged based on three criteria: 1) How representative of Dunedin is it? 2) How unique and creative is it? Think laser kiwi levels of creativity. Lord knows that if we were old enough to have voted for it, that would be the flag we fly. And finally 3) Is it a little bit fucked up? Get those boring, bland, and uninspired flags out of here; this is Critic after all. We wanted to see iconography of the debauchery and delinquency you don't want your family to know you get up to in Dunners.
Here is what our expert judges had to say about some of the entries.
D-D-D-DAMN! Getting more D than the Capping Show cast (allegedly), this is quite the hot contender. While it leaves very little to the imagination and is VERY literal, it gets the point across pretty clearly. Our esteemed artist clearly has had a pretty well-rounded experience in Dunedin and has even given the city a wee tag line: “Dunedin – A pretty good plan D”. Well put, sir. Unfortunately, this flag missed one pretty obvious D of Dunedin: DNB. Our judging panel did appreciate the inclusion of two of our favourite things, though (the Dinosaur park and DMDMA, which pair well together). Overall score: 26/30
Visual complexity at its finest, with many nuanced perspectives of ‘the Dunedin experience’, including, but not limited to, failing papers, smoking joints, and road cones. This design, with the vast LGBTQIA+ representation through a flag and queer icons David Bowie and Grant Robertson, is by far the most inclusive entry. The pop culture references also bring it into modern times, such as Harambe mentioned in the top middle quadrant of the flag and Taylor Swift (new era soon!). With a touch of refinement, this flag could have been the winner, but its visually complex design does undermine the usual simplicity of a flag. Overall score: 24/30
With bright colours, shining Blue and Gold, this entry is a great representation of a Dunedin filled with liquids, cigarettes, and criss-cross fries. The inclusion of the Night’n’Day and Rob Roy logos shows real Dunedinite knowledge. OUSA Prez Liam White’s image does make this flag pretty timely; however, our panel does worry that it means that the flag won't be a true representation in years to come. The artist did explain to the panel that this entry is inclusive for the part of the student body that doesn't drink alcohol, since the cans could be fizzy drinks. Overall, this flag was let down by the lack of depth – it feels removed and like someone in Auckland could have made it, if armed with a cold Speight’s and a copy of Critic Te Ārohi. Overall score: 21/30
The bare bones of being a cool flag are there. However, the artist clearly does not possess the skill to truly get their vision across as cleanly as one might hope. With a bit of work from someone such as Evie Noad (our head designer), this work may have been a real contender. However, as it stands, this artist may have taken the “a bit fucked up criteria” and run with it too much. The judges can’t help but wonder if it was really drawn by a child wearing beer goggles. Unfortunately, it appears to have been a skill issue that shackled this dragon.
Okay, this one tripped us up a little bit. With an uncanny resemblance to the flag of Saudi Arabia, it made the judging panel question the similarities between the country and this wee city of Ōtepoti. A quick Google showed us not much, at a push both host large gatherings for a shared cultural experience (Mecca and O-Week) – that’s kind of all we’ve got. While clean and green, this flag did leave a bit to be desired. As a straight rip-off of another nation's flag, it sadly fell flat in the creativity sector (read: plagiarism).
This flag, while classically representative of Otago, through its use of the Gold and Blue colours, lacks a certain je ne sais quoi. We do worry that this design perpetuates the idea that all we do in Dunedin is smash back beers and go to Highlanders games, but we are more than that. The use of the Speight’s Summit logo is definitely showing some pride of the south; however, the judging panel was informed that the design was created by ChatGPT, and as people with some sense of morals, we cannot allow it to hit our rankings.
Submitted as a statement of solidarity with Palestinians, this entry calls on OUSA to demonstrate a commitment to the student body's values. The submitter notes, “By flying the flag of Palestine, a symbol of resistance for all those who persist under the boot of colonialism, white supremacy, imperialism and capitalism, we condemn the terrorist state of Israel for its crimes against humanity.” With the recent BDS posture decision, flying this flag would cost pittance in comparison to the $500k figure cited in the decision.
By Jonathan McCabe
Sexy, erotic, and throbbing. That is the best way to describe Emily Davidson's 2017 magnum opus entitled Lasagnerie. Exhibited in the OUSA reception for all to see, entrenched within a gilded frame, is the portrait depicting a seductive cartoon of Garfield dressed in lingerie, stockings, and stilettos.
When stopping by the Radio One market earlier this year, Emily saw that Critic was selling A1 posters of her pawnographic imagery (I guess sex sells, eh?). In a blast to the past, the Otago Polytechnic Sculpting Honours graduate came into the Critic office to reminisce about her final boss feud with OUSA. While expecting our conversations to remain purely nostalgic, our yaps expanded into some wider themes: using art as a protest, and how much society is willing to spend on art. Introspective topics, considering that it all revolves around a very erotic depiction of Garfield.
The story began in 2017 when Critic made a post on Instagram requesting centrefold artwork. Emily stood up to the plate. Inspired by a drawing she saw of a gangster SpongeBob wearing a pimp suit while holding a wad of cash, Emily aimed to take something nostalgic and “make it really weird”. Potentially due to his indulgent nature, she chose Garfield as her muse – later adopting the name ‘Lasagnerie’, coined by a friend. The centrefold proved to be popular, gracing the walls of countless flats across Ōtepoti. “The rest is history,” alluded Emily.
The artist wanted Sexy Garfied to leave a mark on Dunedin, and not just in the patches of crusty wall paint torn away by blu-tack at year’s end. Emily submitted Lasagnerie for OUSA’s Artweek exhibition in the Link. Each year, it’s a tradition that the OUSA president selects a piece from the collection to be bought on behalf of the association, proudly displayed on their walls. After some haggling, 2017 President Hugh Baird purchased the masterpiece for an astonishing 250 buckeroonies. Though her piece didn’t win the competition, Emily knew that she “won the hearts [of students]”.
It took a year of snide comments from OUSA and watercooler conversations about Sexy Garfield before Critic Te Ārohi picked up the story (breaking news). The article platformed a quarrel among OUSA elites about whether the piece was a good use of students’ money.
2018 OUSA President Catherine Barlow-Groome called the artwork “a fucking waste of money” (art is subjective, I guess).
Instead of fighting with words, Emily chose to clap back in the medium she knew best: art. Emily reimagined Sexy Garfield, this time bathing in a pool of money, representing the $250 price tag. This work was published in Critic with the text “‘Waste of Money’ By Emily – dedicated to Catherine
Barlow-Groome”. Having never spoken to the media until now, Emily says that her work “spoke for itself”.
It was at this point that our kōrero took a righteous pivot. While Emily understands that art is a luxury that many students simply cannot afford, she didn’t believe the criticism was warranted in this case. “When you are a student, that is expensive,” she says. “But a student didn't buy it.” God forbid a student association supports local artists.
“People will call anything a waste of money,” Emily continues. She critiques this mindset, referencing the strutting sculptures outside the Staff Club café, the molecule structure on Mellor Labs, and even the seesaws on the recently re-developed George Street; each respectively condemned at one point for being an economic folly. Without this kind of art, she says, we would be “living in a white box” and our walk home from Carousel would be much less eventful. Emily believes that there needs to be a place for art to keep our environment beautiful.
Emily remains on the defensive, justifying the price of her piece. The haggled-down price tag accounted for the “costly process” of getting her work printed on metallic paper and professionally framed. It also considered the “cultural impact” of her work.
Not letting her opps get her down, Sexy Garfield made two more appearances in Critic Te Ārohi. The first depicted Garfield and Odie the dog as Kill Bill characters, dressed in a fur-tight acrobatic suit, gripping a katana. The final showing of Sexy Garfield arrived in the last edition of 2018. The kitten is found posing for a Snapchat selfie while wearing her finest matching set of lingerie, wielding a bong close to her crotch – a work of art made in response to the Proctor who was caught at the time removing several bongs from student flats while the residents were away. Kudos to this playful form of protest.
Accepting that she had created her “magnum opus” and having moved on since graduating, imagine Emily’s surprise at discovering how the legacy of Lasagnerie has lived on. One group of 2018 students admitted to Critic that they stole 140 copies of the magazine to spread across their flatmate's bedroom wall while he was out playing football. “We eventually had to take them down because he got night terrors,” the flat told Critic. Six years later, the 2024 OUSA referendum included the question, ‘Should OUSA make free prints of Sexy Garfield available for all students?’ 63.6% of respondents voted no, ruining the chance for OUSA to become a distributor of pawnography, but Critic reprinted it as a centrefold anyway.
Even outside of the walls of OUSA and Critic’s obsession with reprinting the sultry pussycat, Lasagnerie has popped up. A recent reissue of Lasagnerie found its place in this year's Med Revue, Diagnosis of a Wimpy Kid, used in place of a Playboy magazine found hidden under one of the characters' beds. Emily has made a creature that is out of her control, finding it to be “inescapable” long since her Polytech days. She even saw Lasagnerie spread across the wall of a friend-of–a-friend’s house while at a Halloween party. Each time she sees Sexy Garfield pop up, Emily is reminded that she has made “an impact on the world.”
My alarm goes off at 7, like it does every morning (except for Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays, and Tuesdays, which are my designated days of rest). I let it ring for a while, contemplating staying in bed. Artists are an amalgamation of feelings. I feel tired.
I decide to get up, lighting the candles scattered across my room. I like the ambience, and the way the flame flickers reminds me of the futility of life. It’s not because I was doomscrolling with my phone on full brightness until 2 in the morning and the big light makes my eyes hurt.
intently at the bookshelves, reading the blurbs here and there. I know that everyone sitting nearby is impressed that someone actually uses the library for its purpose. I don’t check anything out.
One day, the book ChatGPT and I are currently working on will get published. I just need to get past the first chapter – ChatGPT never seems to be able to remember my characters’ names. It’s a dark academia, enemies-to-lovers-to-strangers, academic rivals, campus murder mystery romance thriller. The publishing industry is soooo hard to get into.
Getting dressed is the most important part of any day. It’s the best way to show that you’re above what’s trendy, that you actually have a personal style and don’t buy into silly little capitalism. Thrifted trench coat, scarf, fingerless gloves – thank you Pinterest for the inspo. And, of course, Doc Martens – in a 1970s British punk rock way and NOT a Radio
One way.
I wander into the kitchen. My flatmate asks if I’m going to class. I tell her I’m experiencing writer’s block, and yes, that extends to lecture notes. Oscar Wilde said, “Only dull people are brilliant at breakfast.” I have made it my goal to never be brilliant in the mornings. She tells me I’m the only one who hasn’t paid rent yet this week. I walk onto campus, wired headphones in and Elliott Smith on. It’s raining again. I hurriedly type in my Notes app ‘grief = running water.’ I am so back.
I order a black coffee from St Dave’s Cafe and make sure to sit by the window. No one asks me about my copy of Ulysses that I place on the table in front of me. I haven’t read it yet, but TikTok said it was one of the most challenging books to read. I sip my coffee slowly because I don’t really like coffee, but it also helps me look pensive and thoughtful (which I am).
I Google “how many pages of Ulysses to read per day to finish in a month”. I close the tab.
I head to my PHIL229 lecture. The guy next to me asks if I’ve done the reading. I respond, “Have any of us truly read anything?” He gives me a funny look. Clearly he doesn’t understand philosophy is meant to be about asking big and unanswerable questions. I could have guessed by the fact he is wearing Sambas.
Lunch time. I have an apple, which I brought with me from home. Artists hunger for inspiration, not food. The only reason I head to the vending machine 15 minutes later is because Cookie Time inspires me.
I set up in Central Library. I have two overdue assignments to start and finish. Putting on my non-prescription blue light glasses helps me get into a studying mood. Before starting work, though, I go for a walk around the first floor, looking
I go for a walk past the Leith. I like to look into the water and pretend I’m somewhere in the moors of England. Very Wuthering Heights, or so my English lecturer says. I haven’t gotten around to reading the first text on the paper yet. I’m going to do my essay on something else. Anyway, all it takes is conveniently avoiding eye contact with the discarded cans and half-inflated football, and I’m practically there. I think about throwing myself in, for aesthetic purposes. Decide against it because the water looks yuck.
Next, I wander through Quad, taking in the architecture. It's just like Oxford, really. Except for the broken vape on the ground and the fact that my GPA is about a third of any Oxford student’s. I perch on one of the benches, deciding now is the time I get back into sketching. I start with a rough outline of a tree. I quickly remember I am shit at drawing.
I decide I’ve had enough of campus; it’s stifling my creative talent. I walk to the Dunedin Public Art Gallery, hoping to be inspired enough that my masterpiece just… happens. I take pictures of the paintings that look cool and post them on my Instagram story, making sure to include my location. I don’t read the signs next to them – that takes quite a lot of time. I look at a painting that is just purple and red. I reckon I could do something just like that.
On my way back home, I listen to my ‘POV: you are a tortured artist’ playlist. If you ask me, The Smiths are pretty underrated.
Once at the flat, I get into bed. It’s been a busy day. I try to write a haiku (that’s a three line poem, btw). You have to get the syllables per line just right, otherwise the whole thing’s fucked. I end up abandoning that idea after 10 minutes for a scroll through UoO Meaningful Confessions. Now those are some three line works that get it right.
After a quick nap, my friend texts me and invites me for a drink at Mr Fox. We sit in the smoking area, and I have a drag on my mate’s cigarette. I keep hoping someone will take a picture of me, cigarette in hand, but no one does. It’s a shame, it would have been perfect for my photo dump so people know I’m more edgy than I seem. I spend most of the night nodding along to other people’s conversations. I am so misunderstood. Someone compliments my coat at one point. “Thanks, it’s vintage!” I can’t hide my grin.
Time for bed. I say goodnight to my other flatmate, who asks me to please, please throw out last week’s attempt at a sourdough starter because he hates the smell of rotting yeast. He thinks I’m pretentious, I can tell. But he’s doing a BCom, so who’s really suffering?
By Stella Weston
Art Week has made its mark again this year. The Link (turned art gallery) was even more of a hub of procrastination than usual, displaying a huge range of works of all mediums. Entries to the exhibition were showcased and sold alongside poetry, electronic art, and photography competitions. Critic was honoured to interview the winners of each OUSA-run competition about their passions, inspirations, and just how important and effective these creative outlets can be.
Kiri Murray: Portrait of a Gorse
Though a visual arts student, Kiri has always been drawn to the textile arts. She fell in love with the medium of print work almost as soon as she was introduced. Prints are created by transferring an image, often from something like a screen, onto another surface, such as a canvas.
For Kiri’s main project last year, her lecturer introduced her to cyanotype. This technique involves putting a chemical on a canvas, overlaying an object (leaves, for example), and then leaving it in the sun to create a chemical reaction. The end result is a silhouette carved out from a Prussian blue canvas. In this way, cyanotype is a bit like the in-between stage of a printing process and photography process. Kiri merged this with her style of photo realism and interest in exploring various plants.
Kiri used pressings of a gorse plant on a paper coated with cyanotype solution and pressed between old photography glass plates to create ‘Portrait of a Gorse’. The piece was a sketch for her larger project, one featuring another impressive technique: mezzotint. An arduous process, mezzotint involves using specialised tools to poke a bunch of holes into a copper plate for ink to seep into, creating a dark velvety image. Kiri says it’s her “thing”, describing mezzotinting as the print version of charcoal art, which can take over thirty hours. But she thinks it’s “definitely worth it – the results are so yummy.”
Her mum had a “big entrepreneur idea” of making gorse syrup and selling it to people, but found out that you can’t actually sell gorse as it’s an invasive species. However, Kiri wasn’t going to let it go to waste and was inspired to use the gorse for her art instead. She’s also been experimenting with using plants themselves to make an emulsion – the chemical you use to develop film photography. Beetroot is the leading contender so far. Submitting her art to competitions is going far better than Kiri expected: “People seem to like it – and I’m thrilled.” Kiri was recently in the Pond Gallery fundraiser and is now working on a project for the Aotearoa Print Council.
Christine Reed: Whispers of the Sea spidervalley.felt.co.nz
Christine’s sculpture journey began when she joined a creative fibre group, which ended up being a “group of little old ladies”. Her first creation was a Christmas ornament. Christine went overseas with her budding skills, and was inspired by her mother in law’s Kitchen Witch (a traditional Scandinavian doll, believed to bring good luck, protect the home, and ensure successful cooking). She wanted to make her own – and then realised there were so many more things she wanted to make.
Needle felting soon became Christine’s passion. Aptly, she describes the art as “using really sharp and differently shaped barbed needles to stab wool together and then sculpt it.” With ‘Whispers of the Sea’ in particular, Christine made the background out of wool from her old alpaca named George.
Christine has always loved the ocean and collecting shells, and when she saw the pāua shell in her craft room she was inspired to try and capture the colour. Her love of needle felting was the perfect medium, since the colours can be brushed together. “It’s like painting with fibres to build up the colours,” she says. “Heaps of fun when you don’t stab yourself.”
Despite having less time for needle felting since starting her degree in Anthropology, Christine is sure that the art practice is something she wants to incorporate into the rest of her life. “I’m not sure where it’s gonna take me, but it's one of those things I have to do – a soul-fulfilling thing.”
Caitlin Gordon: Do Not Go Gentle
In creating ‘Do Not Go Gentle’, Caitlin was inspired by her work through Te Whare Tāwharau with survivors of sexual harm. Big considerations for her included the huge mental health fallout after experiencing sexual harm, and the strength of survivors choosing to go on rather than be overcome by their experiences. Chris Jacobs, the Deputy Warden of UniCol, encouraged her to draw this piece, and showed her the poem Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas – the other source of inspiration for this illustration. Studying a Master’s in Psychology, art is mainly a passion for Caitlin, which she intermittently picks up when she becomes completely obsessed with a project. ‘Do Not Go Gentle’ was this year's passion project.
Caitlin enjoys drawing people most of all because of her love for and fascination with eyes, so she always does them first to ensure she finishes the piece. “Once the eyes are done it's like ‘Oh, it's a person now – I have to finish it.’’’
However, in classic student fashion, she realised the piece was due the next day for the art competition and pulled an all nighter to finish it off and complete those haunting eyes – with great success. Caitlin was honoured to have won the illustration category, adding that the calibre of the other artists were “stunning – absolutely stunning.”
Bonnie Shaw: Suddenly, and with warning: a moment I felt robbed
Bonnie was prompted toward creating a project after a personal experience that made her consider the colonisation of Māori kōrero.
Despite her aptitude with language as a third-year English student, Bonnie spent nearly two months trying to work out how to go about exploring this, writing half poems over and over again. Nothing really stuck until the final day the poem was due, when Bonnie pulled out the entire draft. The accompanying painting was also part of Bonnie’s submission, a way of visually representing her words.
Describing the deeper meanings in the poem as “behind thoughts”, the stanzas alternate between people stealing kōrero, and descriptions of places to illustrate their roles throughout history – “There’s still blood there, we remember.”
One such allusion is to the Rangiaowhia massacre during the Māori land wars. The Crown had assured the safety of the women and children taking refuge in the farming village, but they fabricated a threat of war after the village began sending food to the Kingitanga, and attacked the village. The villagers ran into the whare karakia to hide and to pray. They were burned alive. The Pākehā Church in the village remains standing to this day. She also alludes to colonisation of the Māori myth of patupaiarehe – white skinned, red headed people who live in the mist in the mountains, and are feared by most hapū.
Bonnie drew on both personal experience and the experience of her hapū to explore Māori hesitations in sharing kōrero due to the risk of people taking advantage and “Pākehā-ifying” it, especially when Māori are still suffering the effects of the violence during past colonisation. “Some Pākehā want to take it under the guise of us ‘all being New Zealanders’, but being a New Zealander does not make you Māori – and does not give someone that right.”
Suddenly, and with warning: a moment I felt robbed. Bonnie (Ponai) Shaw.
I come from kaimōhū and harakeke, toto and ponga, little fingers covered in red ochre.
I told you of the patupaiarehe, pale and watching, who reside upon Pirongia and Kakepuku.
I come from where your tūpuna built redoubts, burned whare karakia, and sent my whānau south to the lake.
You spoke about our patupairarehe, claiming all I had shared, and making up all you could not remember.
Tasia Hill: The Water Lady Knowing the University held an annual art exhibition, Tasia spent the winter break cooped up in her mum's cold garage-turned-art -studio. There, she painted an astounding twenty pieces – plenty to choose from when it came to submitting her work. Ironically, ‘The Water Lady’ was her least favourite of the works she’d made, and she only submitted it after encouragement from her flatmates and high school art teacher (along with two other works that hung nearby).
Tasia is in her second year of studying painting. After some nude illustrations she worked on last year, she realised she wanted to practice painting people. Usually painting headshots, she decided she wanted to try and depict the full figure and practice the form. She started with sketches, using the website Unsplash for visuals in her creative process, which consolidates free to use images donated by photographers for art projects. Tasia works by drawing from a range of angles of the same figure, then painting layers and layers over the drawings.
Tasia is inspired by a range of artists, including Jenny Saville, who illustrates figures “with a paintbrush style that's really quite expressive.” Her mum is also a huge source of inspiration for Tasia. “Living in little old Alexandria, she had some paintings up in the museum,” Tasia says. She would love to pursue painting in her future in some kind of gallery space.
Aimee: Curves of Scoliosis
‘Curves of Scoliosis’ was inspired by Aimee’s own struggle in dealing with scoliosis. Taken a year after her first major spine surgery, Aimee attempted to capture her own journey in this selfportrait, focusing on the actual curve of the spine. After balancing the low lighting and composition, she found this an easy photo to take. She thinks that the effectiveness of the piece is found in the simplicity of the photo, capturing exactly what she had been going for.
Inspired by her mum who had “a big fancy camera” when Aimee was growing up, she was always encouraged to pursue photography as a passion. While she hasn’t done a lot of photography at University –busy earning her Master’s degree in Marketing – Aimee loves being creative and tinkering around with a camera. However, she likes to “keep these things as just things that I enjoy, rather than making it into a job. It keeps the spark alive.”
Kate: When Memories Snow Kate’s animatic to the Mitski song ‘When Memories Snow’ drew inspiration from the play ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’, and from discussions with her friend over the connections between this play and Mitski albums.
‘When Memories Snow’ explores the experience of the main character and her downward spiralling mental health – which Kate showed through a range of symbols and the progression of the art style in the video.
The lanterns represent delusion, one of the character’s coping mechanisms, and the truth that she was trying to hide from – breaking apart in the moment everything comes to light. The moth represents the delicacy of the character, and the mannequin demonstrates the worth she places in her beauty, something she believes she has lost with age. The musical notes mimic a repeated piece of music in the play, which reminds her of the past, and draws her back to a traumatic moment.
Although Kate usually prefers oil paintings, she thought this style of digital art fit better with the song she wanted to use. Impressively, Kate managed to fit hours of intense brainstorming for each individual lyric, rough animations for each drawing and finalising the entire project alongside her first-year Health Science studies.
Jemma Bezuidenhout: Not So Angry From This Angle *Winner of the photography category (Randall X) declined to comment
Jemma was working on her Master’s project on sharks in Dusky Sound when she captured this incredible moment. The albatross in the photo came right up to the back of the boat Jemma was working on, appearing “super interested” in the clicking of the camera. The end result of the interaction was an incredibly unique shot of one of Aotearoa’s largest birds staring right back at her
lens. “Albatrosses usually look really angry from the angles they get [captured from], so this shot was really cool for me.” Hence the name of her entry: ‘Not So Angry From This Angle’. Inspired by National Geographic, Jemma loves pursuing photography alongside her Marine Science degree. The combination of interests takes her to “so many cool places –there’s always something cool to see [...] This was just a really lucky moment. I don’t have the best lens for wildlife photography, but it came up so close to me that its beak was nearly touching the camera.” Jemma used a low aperture (a larger opening of the camera lens) to focus on the head of the albatross and blur the background, making this photograph especially effective.
Among the thoroughfare of busy bodies marching to and from class, Emma Gentry sets up shop whenever Radio One hosts their market sessions. The third-year undergraduate in Zoology and Marine Science has mastered the art of linocut printing, an art form that involves carving patterns into thin rubber sheets, which are used like stamps to print designs onto her chosen canvas. Emma calls these lino prints ‘tiles’ because the art it creates can be "quite repetitive" in nature.
Emma began her creative empire while perched at the desk chair of her Selwyn College dormitory, selling postcards featuring her pressed prints. Armed with a drink bottle in place of a rolling pin, she would stamp her ink-doused tiles onto her canvas of choice. Just as an old lady knits during church service, Emma used to use lecture time to carve out tiles, "making a mess" in the process, she quipped. With carving tools as her weapon of choice, she finds this process quite "meditative." Insects and creepy crawlies appear to be Emma’s muse, with many of her designs based upon the natural environment she studies.
More recently, her artistic endeavours have led her into the wonderful world of fashion, extending the scope of her prints onto whatever garment she can get a hold of. To stamp her lino prints onto cotton, Emma has to whip out the oil-based ink and methylated spirits, essentially treating her room as Walter White's caravan. Stinking up the flat in the process, Emma shares sympathy with her flatties: "I'm sorry flatmates, for gassing out the house."
Emma is also attempting to bring bartering back, accepting trades for her artwork or garments (let's hope this isn't a recession indicator). "I've done some pretty dodgy meetups,” she jokes. One trade involved swapping some stickers for a collection of shells. Emma also mentions that she is trying to organise a trade with Kaia from the student band Audio Visual Drop Kicks (AVDK) to get a copy of their newest album on CD.
Find Emma’s creations at the next Radio One Market or at one of Te Oraka’s night markets. If you can’t wait till then message her on Instagram @emma_gentry_
Francesca makes her own jewellery out of upcycled beads and sells her creations in the campus thrift store, Te Oraka. Each of her chic creations are unique in character and sold under the name Francesca’s Bling. She confesses to Critic that she only makes items “that I would wanna wear in case no one wants to buy it.” Respect the hustle.
Francesca never used to wear jewellery. But as she bought more she realised that it was really expensive to get anything of good quality. To beat the system, she began making her own at the end of 2022, her first year at Otago University. Soon "people started asking me where I got [my jewellery from]." It was at this point when she started producing enough to sell.
Wielding some point nose pliers and a pair of wire cutters gifted by her grandfather, Francesca works out of her North Dunedin flat bedroom. She says that her room gets "really messy." With tiny bits of wire pinging around all the time (ones that would make you say ‘youch!’ if you stepped on them) Francesca "never wears bare feet" around her room anymore. It takes the jeweler five minutes to craft a set of earrings, and just over 30 minutes to make a necklace. Francesca says that “coming up with ideas” can be challenging at times. Because all of her beads are secondhand, she needs to get creative with her designs.
After setting up shop at one of Te Oraka's night markets, Francesca was contacted by the store asking if they could stock her products. "I guess lots of the girls who worked there liked my stuff," the jeweler humbly remarks. This meant that Francesca’s Bling earnt some well deserved shelf space in the store. When someone buys one of her pieces from Te Oraka the moolah is bank transferred directly to the jeweler, meaning the campus thrift store takes no share in the profit.
Rummaging through op shops is the most time consuming part of the hustle. Thankfully, Francesca's mum is a fiend for the thrift, so will pick up lots of goodies for her daughter. When Francesca hits the op shops she is on the look out for any high quality beads, like pearls and glass beads. Since everything Francesca sells is upcycled, it fits neatly into Te Oraka's circular economy kaupapa.
Becoming the ultimate gift giver, Francesca's new talents come in handy around Christmas and during 21st season. Just like Oprah Winfrey, she says, “Everyone I know gets earrings or bracelets for their birthday.”
While being a campus thrift store, Te Oraka aims to make sustainability accessible to everyone through a series of events and initiatives. Francesca was invited to run a jewellery crafting workshop in the store earlier this year. Teaching attendees how to repurpose and repair old jewellery, the store supplied all the beads and equipment. Francesca was surprised that some of the skills that she takes for granted, like threading, were not universal. “But everyone picked it up pretty quickly.” The jeweler said the students all made very cool and unique pieces. “I never would've thought of what everyone else created!” she proudly exclaimed.
If you want to purchase some of Francesca’s Bling, head into Te Oraka. They’re open from 11am to 1pm every weekday during teaching semester.
In a world where single use items are the norm and purchasing sustainable products can set you back an arm and a leg, it is the Dunedin students who have learnt to get crafty. Critic Te Ārohi spoke to two students who have successfully channeled their artistic side alongside their studies.
BY Gin Swigmore
Whisky is stoic as fuck. Four fingering a whisky glass makes you feel like a wise and mysterious cowboy – a cowboy that has just silenced a saloon with their presence after spending all day contemplating and riding off into the sunset.
Drinking Thunderdonk makes you a mysterious and curious cowboy from Brokeback Mountain. A cowboy that is drinking the whisky version of an iced caramel latte (derogatory) about to four finger thunderdonk (nonderogatory) another curious and naked cowboy at Ram Ranch.
You. Yes, you, my humble student of alcoholic philosophy. You may now be thinking, “Jeez, that's a lot of naked cowboys.” Indeed. That is why there is a market for a salted caramel whisky named Thunderdonk.
If one was looking to curb this market, I, under a thoughtful four fingering of Thunderdonk, have reverse engineered (what the American Government is doing in Area 51) the secret to making a below average salted caramel flavoured whisky. A 700ml ‘whisky’ that comes in at 33% ABV and is technically labelled a whisky liqueur. Keep that in mind.
All one has to do to recreate Thunderdonk is: 1) acquire a 1L bottle of Jack Daniel’s; 2) split the Jack Daniel’s into two
500ml bottles; 3) fill those bottles with an additional 200mls of water; and now for the hard part, 4) distract the McDonald’s staff for long enough to put four pumps of their caramel syrup in each of said bottles.
Still the best thing to come out of Scapegrace.
Film pairing: Abraham Lincoln
Vampire Hunter
Book pairing: Pride and Prejudice
Seconds spent on the mechanical bull:
Fritters are the perfect way to use up those bits of vegetable you haven’t got round to, and always make a tasty lunch. This recipe makes the BEST crispy crunchy kūmara fritters that are perfect on their own or as a side dish! Depending on the size of your veg, this recipe can produce an immense amount of food. Cook as many as you need and store the mix in the fridge to cook up later in the week. Enjoy!
2
I mean THIN-thin! We are talking wafer thin slices, as tiny as you can get it!
Step 1. Take your grated carrot and kūmara and squeeze out the liquid. Using a tea towel, place a handful of the grated kūmara-carrot into the middle and gather the vegetables up to squeeze out the liquid. Once you have got as much liquid out as you can, place the squeezed kūmaracarrot into a large bowl. Repeat as many times as you need to have squeezed the whole amount.
Step 2. To the vegetable bowl, add your finely sliced red onion, corn flour, parsley, coriander, paprika and a decent pinch of salt, plus plenty of pepper.
By Ruby Hudson
Step 4. Heat a large fry pan (or two if you have them) over medium heat with a bit of oil in the bottom.
Step 5. Once the pan is hot, add a heaped tablespoon of the grated vegetable mixture to the pan, spreading it out slightly to make a fritter shape.
Step 3. Beat your eggs together and then pour into the bowl with grated vegetables and herby spice mix. Mix carefully until the egg and dry ingredients are combined throughout the mix. It won’t really look like a batter, more a bowl full of grated vegetables but this is what you are looking for to make a crispy fritter.
Step 6. Cook for approx. 8 mins on one side without touching it. Once crisp and holding together, flip to the other side carefully using a spatula. Cook for a further 5 mins or until cooked through and golden.
Step 7. Once cooked, place the fritters to the side and continue cooking in batches, adding more oil to the pan as required.
After successfully defeating the plagiarism allegations on his music, Ed Sheeran may not be so successful when it comes to his paintings. The singer doesn’t claim to be a fine artist, but still sells his work? His chaotic, paint-splattered pieces clearly mimic Jackson Pollock’s style (an artist known for throwing just about anything at a canvas) but lack the artistic experimentation and imagination to be anything notable. It's like he followed a Bob Ross tutorial on how to splat paint.
Picasso was allegedly once asked to draw a picture on a napkin which he proceeded to produce in a few seconds. A woman asked him how much the picture would cost, to which he responded a million francs, explaining that the picture was not just the result of the few minutes he spent on it. He told her, "My dear, it took me a lifetime to be able to draw this sketch." With this small interaction, Picasso captures the essence of artistic development.
Ed Sheeran’s work, however, captures the essence of crayons that have melted in the sun. It’s like he coloured outside the lines but the lines were never there to begin with. Arguably, art isn't just about the final result but about the process, context, and journey leading up to this point. Sheeran himself admitted to lacking artistic process and he clearly
just ignores the nuances and techniques of Pollock’s work, chucks down a tarp, and throws paint at a canvas.
On the whole, Sheeran is a pretty sound guy. Who doesn't love a cheeky bit of ‘Galway Girl’ on a lengthy roadtrip? I commend him on belonging to the camp of relatively unproblematic celebrities – that can’t be an easy feat in the world of fame.
I say let the man paint! Ed donates all profits from his paintings to charity (aw) and he’s even acknowledged his paintings did not make him "an artist". They don't tend to go for more than £900 ($2000), a similar amount to what Justin Bieber used to sell his underwear for.
Some have argued his work “lacks meaning”. But here’s the thing: since when did art need meaning? Have you seen Matisse’s late work? It looks like a Caroline Gardener pencil case design. People cry in front of it. So let Ed Sheeran paint. Let him smear, splodge, and dab. At the end of the day, the world doesn’t need more tortured geniuses. It needs more ginger men in hazmat suits, wondering if that’s the front or back of the canvas.
By Dirty Talk
— How about your hands?
— Fuck yeah!
If someone suggests tying you up, you'd assume they have a bit of experience with bondage. So you can imagine my surprise when this guy, butt naked in his cold North Dunedin flat, gets up, stares blankly around his room for a few seconds, then... unplugs the space heater? He proudly holds up an extension cord, like one of those men on Tinder with a dying fish.
— Will this do?
— Uh, yeah, sure.
He straddles me, and we get back to making out. I'm pretty stoked to be honest—having sex this good with a random guy I met at a party is not something I'm used to. Finding a guy who's into kink and practices good consent? That's great too, even if he doesn't really know what he's doing. I take off his jersey and run my fingers along the soft skin under his pecs. He takes off my shirt and unlatches my bra with confidence—a confidence that's lost the moment he starts trying to tie my wrists together with an extension cord, but at least the way he sticks his tongue out in focus is pretty cute. The knot is terrible, but I don't care. The feeling of having my arms up, with something around my wrists, is hot whether or not it's actually restraining me. His hands press hard on my hips as he goes down on me, one three-prong plug rolling around on the floor, the other tangled in my hair. It feels good, and I'm glad the sensation grabs my attention, because all I could think about since he unplugged the heater was the Winter Energy Payment. Why the fuck can't students get it?
He doesn't have rope, but at least he has condoms—two of those slimy lube sachets down and we're going at it. Our bodies get sweatier and sweatier the longer we fuck.
— Harder!
An increase I actually asked for, unlike my flat's last power bill. The extension cord slowly loosens around my wrists as I squirm around, until it suddenly undoes itself at the exact moment he whispers that he's going to cum. He does, and we roll over in bed.
— Want me to finish you off?
— Yeah, thanks.
I start to feel sweat evaporating from my skin as he goes down on me, cooling my body down to uninsulated, south-facing room temperature. I think to myself: maybe we don't need warm flats, if only we can have good sex?
There is much work to be done to create good habits with your finances. Don’t fall into the 3pm trap of cheap rice balls, let yourself just ‘pop into’ Chemist warehouse, or journey to PAK’nSAVE without a grocery list. Be mindful and you'll be rich by the end of the year.
Artsy Activity: Create a playlist of all new music
This week you are focused on long-term success, setting your goals for the future and trying to see where you want to be in the years coming. Finding your people will help this journey immensely so don't let yourself close off from those around you.
Artsy Activity: Fingerpainting a birthday card
A really fun period of your life is coming to an end, and while it is sad that you have to say goodbye to the good times, make sure to read deeper into the things that you have learnt. This period of your life was particularly developmental for your sense of humour, as well your ability to deal with criticism.
Artsy Activity: Cook a new cuisine
It’s time to learn some deep breathing exercises or pick up a pack of cigarettes and shove your emotions deep down inside. There is nothing that won't piss you off this week, so take it slow and try not to let too much rage slip out of your mouth in hurtful words.
Artsy Activity: Write some epic poetry
There has been a special person stepping into your life lately, and with Mars in your sign there is a fire under your bum to get your feelings known. Your feelings are reciprocated so be bold, be brave, and start that conversation.
Artsy Activity: Patchworking a hoodie
This week things are starting to settle down and you can finally get some stuff done that you actually want to do. Your social battery is charging, your to-do list is shrinking and the universe is letting you breathe a little deeper. Be sure to treat yourself without guilt, there's no need for that negativity.
Artsy Activity: Start a junk journal
You have been keeping your cards pretty close to your chest lately, but this week is drawing the vulnerability out of you. Let your friends know what is going on inside of your head, otherwise it might explode. You might be surprised how much better you will feel by letting some people in.
Artsy Activity: Crochet a tote bag or a granny square
Defeated, lost and tired are all words that could describe your mood lately, Cancer. It’s time to turn that frown upside because you are about to have a fucking awesome week. Everything is on sale, people are nice for no reason and all your issues just seem to fade away. Use this time to get those things done you have been nervous about doing.
Artsy Activity: Hold a LinkedIn profile pic photoshoot with your friends
It’s still your season Leo, and damn are you feeling spicy this week. Your need for intimacy has moved to the physical kind and this week your person is on that vibe too. So rest up while you can because you are going to be having a tonne of very fun, very athletic nights.
Artsy Activity: Paint a self portrait with inverted colours
Venus and Jupiter have conjoined for you this week, bringing exuberant amounts of positivity and zeal for life. With this newfound energy, try really honouring the stuff that you value, whether it be your hobbies, time with friends or just having a good old wank.
Artsy Activity: Get a pen pal and make a visually appealing letter
You're feeling pretty emotionally transparent and people are noticing. Let this be a positive thing, not a reason to close yourself off even more. You deserve to be seen in the way you want and not have people's perceptions forced on you.
Artsy Activity: Write a song about your weekend
The start of this week brings Geminis the spark for being creative, on-time, and dedicated to finishing tasks. This starts to dwindle by Thursday but don’t let that get in the way of doing the things you want to do, or having the conversations you have been putting on the back burner.
Artsy Activity: Learn how to fold a napkin into a swan
Alright, legends. We’ve finally hit the last stretch of the cold Dunedin winter. By now your flat probably feels like an igloo, the stench of wet laundry won’t go away, and the mould on your bedroom ceiling is growing faster than your will to study and your tolerance for flatmates’ dishes. Free power hours just don’t cut it anymore, and seasonal depression has well and truly kicked in. You rush to Pint every Wednesday for warmth, but even then you wake up the next day with assignments and mid-terms on your mind – plus texts from your parents asking if you’ve somehow managed to find a summer job in this crap economy.
Right now you’re probably living off cereal and toast for every meal, with a few Red Bulls thrown in to power you through study. You dread getting out of bed in the morning and making the treacherous walk to class on icy footpaths.
tThe good news? We’re nearly at the finish line. The better news? OUSA has your back with enough cheap food and free resources to get you through without selling your feet pics to afford groceries.
Weekdays at the newly renovated Clubs & Socs building across from Central Library. Roll in for a free breakfast before class, grab a $4 lunch, and from Monday to Thursday enjoy a $5 dinner courtesy of the Bowling Club (order online before midday and pick-up from reception between 5-6pm).
Student Support offers financial assistance including budgeting tips, a foodbank, and hardship grants. Their services also cover wellbeing, study, flatting, queer support, and more. All free, non-judgemental, and run by people who genuinely care about students.
Six bucks for an hour session. Sweat it out, warm up your frozen toes, and pretend North Dunedin is a tropical island.
And don’t forget the Uni’s free services. Take a hot shower at Unipol without your flatmates timing you because you used up all the hot water last time.
Hang in there. Soon you’ll swap frostbite for tan lines, libraries for road trips, and that puffer jacket for anything that doesn’t smell like wet dog.
Daniel Leamy Finance & Strategy Officer