Salt Water Whānau
Bio
Kia ora koutou. We are a whānau of creatives no Te whānau o Te Aotawarirangi, Te whānau o Ruataupare me Te Aitanga - a - Hauiti.
Description
Our work in Mōwai: The weight of water gathers words, objects, colour, memory and place - to explore loss, resilience, reconnection, and hope. We wanted to create a collective piece that spoke to our experience and journey of Cyclone Gabrielle, which took the community and others on that same journey. Our mahi connects to the research themes of Loss of place, environment and home following cyclone events, carrying deep psychological, cultural, and relational weight for whānau. The research underscores the importance of relational wellbeing of whānau, whenua, stories, te reo, caring for taonga, connection to land and ancestors. The “Cuppa tea and a kōrero” coffee table, the poems of whenua and wai pukapuka; kupu painted on the couch embody this relational connection. The use of black and white colour schemes transforming to colour on the framed photo tells the story of resilience and reimagining a brighter future. There is a strong rangatahi voice in the research, highlighting their observations, their hopes. Te Waiotu and Uruao participate not just as subjects, but as creators. Their camera, their hand, their point of view is vital as they are part of the narrative of rebuilding and reimagining their future world. We invite you to sit on the couch with your cuppa, have a kōrero, or take some time out to read, reflect, and create a reimagined life.
Social - @saltwaterwhanau
Contact - carmen.fairlie@gmail.com
Link to research
Salt Water Whānau bring together words, objects, colour, memory, and place to explore loss, resilience, reconnection, and hope. Their collective piece takes audiences on a journey through the experience of Cyclone Gabrielle, carrying the weight of community memory while opening space for reflection and reimagining.
Their mahi connects closely with the research themes of loss of place, environment, and home — losses that carry deep psychological, cultural, and relational weight for whānau. The report highlights that:
“For many, the land, water, and taonga are not just physical places or objects, but part of their own wellbeing, whakapapa, and identity.”
The work embodies this relational connection: the “Cuppa tea and a kōrero” coffee table invites dialogue; the poems of whenua and wai in pukapuka form hold memory; kupu painted across the couch bring voice into the everyday. The transition from black-and-white to colour in the framed photo speaks to resilience and the reimagining of a brighter future.
Importantly, Salt Water Whānau centre rangatahi within the work. The report amplifies the voices of young people who spoke of their observations, anxieties, and hopes for the future. Here, Te Waiotu and Uruao participate not just as subjects, but as creators — their camera, their hand, their point of view becoming vital parts of the narrative of rebuilding and reimagining.
This piece is both an offering and an invitation: to sit on the couch, take a cuppa, read, reflect, and kōrero. To be part of shaping a reimagined life, grounded in whānau, whenua, and aroha.
