Her new work may be deeply personal - but Louisa Afoa isn't revealing any more than you need to know.
"I like that the wallpaper's kind of everyday and mundane and nothing, but at the same time, to me, it's everything." Photo: Supplied
Photo: Supplied
Louisa Afoa's great Aunty and Uncle migrated here from Samoa in the 1950s and settled in Papakura, on Orion Street. Twenty years later, her father followed.
Across the city in Henderson, Salmon wallpaper, paying homage to her family and this home, lines a gallery wall, black and white photographs allow the audience a glimpse of context - a Samoan flag and family portraits take pride of place.
It is a motif not unfamiliar to those that know Louisa's practice, the wallpaper contains elements that remind her of the Orion Street home and all it signifies - growing up as a first generation kid of a migrant.
An earlier iteration of this work was shown at the Papakura Art Gallery, a space where Louisa had previously worked, her warmth and hospitality echoed within the walls years after she left and the public still to this day ask after her. Louisa's presence within a gallery space, both as an art practitioner and an employee is undeniably important.
Corban's Art Estate, where her latest show comes to be, is based in Henderson. In many ways it's a world away from Orion Street, but the reality is, the western suburb, and its gallery, is not too dissimilar to Papakura.
"Corban's is another grassroots space that shows lots of community work and works with the communities around there," says Louisa.
It's an old homestead and still very much feels like a house, with bay windows that extend from its frame, evoking the familiarity of afternoons spent reading, the sun falling through the glass.
For all of its similarities, I'll See You at Orion transcends place. It's much more of a memorial work than the work shown in Papakura.
"It's about the relationship between us and my relationship with the home, the people inside of it, the people that helped raise me. That kind of was my anchor to being Samoan, and what it meant to be Samoan, was learned through that space," says Louisa.
Her practice is rich with personal narratives and the raw honesty of each work is humbling.
"When it came to this work, I really didn't want to reveal as much as I’ve done in the past with previous works, as in I didn't feel like everyone needed to know these stories that are held within this wallpaper.
"[The audience] have access through this visual component and they can take from it what they will, but I just don't want to give them anything more and I feel like I don't have to, because it's not for them.
From Louisa Afoa's project: 'A Pool is not the Ocean'. Photo: Supplied
“I've been thinking lately about how much you tell, how much of yourself you’re willing to give. The emotional labour is too real.”
"I like that the wallpaper's kind of everyday and mundane and nothing, but at the same time, to me, it's everything."
There is power in representation and in a climate of misrepresentation and underrepresentation of marginalised communities, for Louisa - who uses herself, close friends and family in her works - taking back this power is especially important.
"I think it's super, super important, because still to this day, there's only extreme ends of the scale when it comes to representation. The more stories that are told by different artists, especially Pacific artists, the more nuance, the more you see the big picture and its complexities"
She speaks of the ever-present tropes of the dusky maiden or Police Ten 7, that play out in our media time and again.
"I think it's important to have that control, especially in institutions like galleries.”
Louisa's practice is a response to events as they unfold in her life, the central threads consistent in her work are formed around the position of coming from a working class, marginalised community and of the racialised body.
Outside of the show at Corban’s, she's been working on a project that she started in her honours year, A Pool is Not the Ocean.
She tells me she's been thinking a lot about self-sovereignty and what it means to make work that's not only empowering for herself, but for other audiences. What it means to make work that has the potential to create a shift in how someone thinks about marginalised communities.
"I think I always make the work for myself first - and when I say myself I also mean my family, my ancestors because they’re apart of me. Whoever I'm thinking about, whatever story I'm trying to tell, it’s for us first and then the next step is thinking about the audience and the possible methods for receiving the ideas and narratives.”
It's all about creating platforms or having a platform to speak from.
"I'm just about doing what feels right."
