OPINION
Tau's tiled table in Te Atatū looks tremendous. Former MP and life-long goodfella Tau Henare recently posted a photo on the Twitter machine of a really great example of one of New Zealand's most avid pursuits, a vital component of the New Zealand way of life, something that defines our busy, good-natured, inventive, resourceful, domestic, conformist, scrounging and not especially imaginative New Zealand identity – home improvement. He found a table on the side of the road. He took it home to his house in Te Atatū, and tiled it. I looked at it and looked at it and looked at it and thought, "This is what I want to do with my life, too."
Tau's tiled table attracted numerous comments on social media. One person exclaimed: "Mean!" Another person exhaled: "Cha!" Another expressed criticism and praise in three languages: "Bro. I'm not sure that offset centre line is good feng shui. But, hei aha." Good workmanship is the mark of a New Zealander. It's one of the things we most respect; and right now, in the middle of spring, the New Zealand weekend is full of gardeners, renovators, fixers, home improvers, everyone finding new ways to be good with their hands. I am trying to find a way of being good with my hands.
Tau's tiled table photo was captioned, "I don't really have an artistic bone in my body." Not true. There was something pleasing in his tile pattern and something original in his offset centre line. Almost everything we create is something no one has ever seen before; our gardeners, renovators, fixers and home improvers are forever creating new works of art around the house. I want to create a new work of art around the house.
Tau's tiled table provides an excellent answer to the old question of what art is and what it looks like. My book Civilisation, a collection of portraits of no-horse towns, included a chapter on Tangimoana, on the Manawatū coast; one thing that always stayed with me was a comment from a local fireman, Grant, about his friends. "The skills between us are pretty awesome," he said. "Marcus is a top, top engineer. Kieran'd have to be one of the most sought-after welders in the whole of the Manawatū." He made Tangimoana sound like an artist's colony. Their art included building massive sheds. I met Kieran, that sought-after welder, and wrote, "His shed was his second home, possibly his first. His shed was his castle; his house was just somewhere to crash, and cook up strips of venison. He said, 'I lock the shed, but I never lock the house.' He'd set up a bar, and it also contained his motorbikes and his chainsaws. He said: 'I really wanted Brenda to buy me a bulldozer for Christmas. I found one that was nice, and it was only $30,000, but nah.'" The man who wanted a bulldozer for Christmas; I'd settle for an electric drill to hang some flowering pots from the ceiling. I don't know how to use an electric drill but I bet I could learn.
