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The Spinoff
13 hours ago
- General
- The Spinoff
Why Homo sapiens are Auckland Zoo's priority species
Auckland Zoo is involved in dozens of conservation projects, but one species is paramount – us. Naomii Seah visits the Zoo to find out why. On a mild winter's night, by the light of the full moon, a group of Auckland Zoo staff and mana whenua pick their way carefully through the thick native bush. Beneath their boots, the damp undergrowth gives off a rich, earthy aroma of rotting bark and leaf litter. Spying a marker tied to an ancient pōhutakawa, a member of the group pauses, and gingerly holds a clear container to the craggy bark. From it a brown, unassuming insect peeks out then scurries onto the trunk. It's about an inch long. While it's hard to imagine, this young wētāpunga will one day be as big as a mouse. These expeditions have been running for over a decade across eight pest-free islands in the Hauraki Gulf and Bay of Islands as part of Auckland Zoo's wētāpunga breed-and-release programme. It's just one of the Zoo's many conservation initiatives. As the Zoo sees it though, the most important creatures on this trip aren't just the hundreds of tiny wētāpunga about to be released – it's the people. Kevin Buley is the director of Auckland Zoo. 'The fundamental purpose of the Zoo is to reconnect people with the environment, with wildlife and with themselves – what it means to be human, and part of the environment, not apart from it,' he says. Since 2018, Kevin has led the Zoo through huge changes, both physically and philosophically, driven in part by the impacts of the pandemic. 'Covid was like the moment the scales dropped from our eyes, and we saw how the Zoo could fundamentally improve the wellbeing of people that visited us.' Dozens, if not hundreds of papers have now shown a connection between time spent in nature and improved wellbeing. But with increasing urbanisation – over 80% of New Zealanders now live in urban areas – the disconnect between communities and te taiao (the natural world) is only growing. As an organisation, the Zoo sees itself as a vital conduit between Auckland communities and the environment. This realisation, Kevin says, necessitated a significant change to the kaupapa of the Zoo. Namely, the Zoo wanted to reposition itself as distinctively of Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland and strengthen its relationship with Te Ao Māori. The Zoo has been working alongside iwi Māori to weave indigenous concepts through the zoo experience and into its wider programming. Incorporating Te Ao Māori is one way the Zoo hopes to continue building a more holistic approach to wildlife conservation. This holistic approach speaks to what Kevin sees as the ultimate purpose of a zoo – to help build a future where the classic 'just-in-time' sticking-plaster approach to conservation work is no longer required. What would that future look like though? As Kevin sees it, it's a future where we have successfully renegotiated our relationship with the natural environment and are living sustainably as part of it. It's a future where we no longer have to fight an endless battle against biodiversity loss and species extinction. Think, he says, of communities, corporates and governments all putting the health of te taiao first in their decision-making. 'If our ultimate goal is to help people tune back into nature, to have humans as a species living at one with the planet, then first we've got to support people's wellbeing. We can't ask people to recycle, to use sustainable palm oil, to eat sustainable fish if their day-to-day wellbeing is not in a great place,' says Kevin. The evolving role of zoos is something Dr. Sarah Thomas, head of conservation advocacy and engagement at Auckland Zoo, spends a lot of time thinking about. 'How do we change how we think about being a zoo to being a community-serving cultural organisation? Raising up and giving equal credit to the way we serve our communities is just as important as our conservation fieldwork.' Post-Covid, Sarah noticed how alienated communities felt from each other and the environment. In many ways, she says, we are still dealing with the impacts of Covid's social isolation and economic fallout. In this atmosphere, Sarah and the Zoo recognised the need to walk alongside the community. The team started a programme which gifted thousands of tickets to community groups. This removed the financial barrier and opened the Zoo up to them as a place for repair, recovery and respite. 'The passion that I have is [trying to understand] how we can serve our communities to feel good and function well, so we have a society that's thriving here in Aotearoa,' Sarah says. 'We know that there's a lot of lonely people in Auckland. All the stats are there to say people are struggling, whether that's post-Covid or just in the current environmental, societal state. So, for me, having the Zoo as te pā hono – a place of connection, is like a beacon of hope.' By looking after wellbeing, and addressing community needs, the team hopes to enable a greater, long-term change in how we take care of ourselves and our environment. Part of that means being an accessible gateway to wildlife and te taiao. Many people may never visit the African savannah, the Southeast Asian rainforest or even Auckland's predator-free offshore islands. But that shouldn't preclude communities from feeling connections to those places. In Te Ao Māori, the wētāpunga is known as the god of ugly things. It's a reputation that's contributed to the wētāpunga being maligned and overlooked. Just over a decade ago, the last remaining population was isolated to Te Hauturu-o-Toi (Little Barrier Island). Now though, through Auckland Zoo's programme, which was built on previous work by DOC and Butterfly Creek, wētāpunga populations have been established on eight additional islands. It's been so successful that Richard Gibson, Auckland Zoo's head of animal care and conservation, says the programme will wrap up soon. 'We're going to be ending the wētāpunga programme very soon because we've done it. We've transformed that animal's risk of extinction.' It's feat that's extremely rare in conservation circles, where efforts can go on for decades just to conserve a few precious individuals. But for Richard and the rest of the team at the Zoo, this remarkable success is only the beginning. 'What we've done for the wētāpunga is given them a fighting chance for the next 100 to 200 years, but that's nothing in evolutionary terms.' It's a hard reality that all conservationists must grapple with. Human intervention at the brink of extinction can only do so much. So how do we build a future where endangered species can reestablish themselves and truly thrive? 'One could argue that the true value of the wētāpunga breed and release programme is in its advocacy, education and awareness role,' says Richard. 'It doesn't matter how hard we try to save a species or a group of species, we're only able to do it in a very short timeframe. Their long-term persistence relies on us changing our relationship with the planet.' Currently, the world is grappling with its sixth mass extinction. According to the World Wildlife Fund, the current species extinction rate is estimated to be between 1,000 and 10,000 times higher than natural rates due to the impacts of human activity. Dozens of species are going extinct every day, and up to 50 percent of all species face extinction by 2050. In the face of this challenge, nothing less than a radical paradigm shift will make a real difference. Regardless, the ripple effects of the wētāpunga programme have been far reaching. Over the past decade, it has attracted media coverage from both national and international outlets like Al Jazeera. This coverage has helped raise the profile of the wētāpunga. Breed-and-release expeditions, meanwhile, have directly engaged the wider community, from children to iwi groups and volunteers. These missions have generated new appreciation for the wētāpunga and inspired future invertebrate champions. Long after these Zoo bred wētāpunga die and become part of the forest floor themselves, these messages will continue to resonate, says Richard. 'Auckland Zoo is all about conservation, yes, but we see Homo sapiens – our staff, visitors, volunteers and wider communities – as vital to the present and future health of this planet.' Kevin agrees and says: 'We sometimes hear people say that in a perfect world we wouldn't need zoos. But I disagree. In order for there to be a perfect world, we need good zoos that continue to nurture and support that human connection to nature, to wildlife and to each other.'
The Spinoff
14-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Spinoff
From murals to yarn bombs: Meet three Aucklanders making art accessible to all
There's a unique network of people and organisations behind the Auckland art scene. Naomii Seah spoke to three of them to understand their mahi. Walking through the streets of Tāmaki Makaurau, you're never short of interesting art to look at. The city is home to macro pieces like The Women's Suffrage mural at Te Hā o Hine place, and the iconic Boy Walking in Potters Park; as well as smaller installations like Thief and Twist, the bronze statues on Karangahape Road. Then there's the more transient works of our city, like the Yarn for Pride project in February this year, which saw the bike parking on Karangahape Road adorned with colourful scarves in honour of Auckland Pride. Artworks like these enrich our experience of the city and bring communities together, as well as being quite simply delightful. Even so, it's getting harder for artists to create and produce work. Inflation, a cost-of-living crisis, and recent funding cuts have made art, and art-making, less accessible. Despite this grim outlook, some organisations, like the 21 local boards of Auckland Council, remain key supporters of arts and culture here. They help fund and manage many dedicated arts spaces and organisations across the city. The Spinoff spoke with three of these organisations about how they're keeping our arts scene alive and vibrant. Siobhan Connelly, Studio One Toi Tū Studio One Toi Tū cuts an imposing figure on the corner of Ponsonby and Karangahape Road. Once a police station, it's now an arts facility helmed by the Waitematā local board. The building's strong, square silhouette and late Victorian brick facade can be intimidating at first. But this initial impression is tempered by the artwork proudly displayed in the windows. Acrylic 'paint' drips from the upper windows, oozing art onto the street and the community beyond. Inside you'll find art exhibitions and workshops, maker spaces and studios. Studio One Toi Tū aims to keep their offerings free or low cost to ensure everyone in the community can access arts and art spaces. Workshops here offer a chance to explore a wide range of mediums – from ceramics to print-making, oil-painting and more. On-site studios and spaces can also be hired for events and pop-up exhibitions. This ensures the space remains responsive and reactive to current events. Supporting the local arts scene is the core of the Studio One Toi Tū kaupapa, says manager Siobhan Connelly. The team are all arts practitioners themselves, and they aim to offer wrap around support for new and emerging artists. Downstairs, by the front door, four gallery spaces provide an opportunity for new and emerging artists to display their work. The exhibits are programmed a year in advance, with 30 to 40 slots available each year. 'We often talk of the story of someone coming through Studio One Toi Tū,' says Connelly. 'There are people who have come to an exhibition, found out about the space, taken one of our courses, upskilled, then started doing markets, then applied for an exhibition. There's a real opportunity to nourish people starting on their arts journey. And that really fills our cup.' 'We talk about people coming here and doing their 'firsts' – teaching their first class, holding their first exhibition, having their first studio. These are all important steps to being a member of the creative sector.' Jermaine Reihana, Kākano Youth Arts Kākano Youth Arts Collective is a programme for vulnerable rangatahi and is run out of Corban Estate Arts Centre – a West Auckland arts precinct based on the historic grounds of the former Corban Estate Winery. Three days a week, Kākano welcomes 18 young people between the ages of 12 and 21 to the ground-floor room of the estate. It's covered in colourful graffiti and paint splatters and is full of art supplies. Here, the participants are given the opportunity to develop an arts practice with experienced arts tutors. Jermaine Reihana is one of these tutors. He's been with the programme since 2015, following a stint as the resident artist at the estate. 'Kākano means 'the seed'. All we do as tutors and as a whānau is to pour as much tautoko support onto that seed and help it to grow. That's how each of our rangatahi develops their own art practice.' The programme is not run like a classroom, Reihana stresses. That doesn't work for these rangatahi, who have mostly disengaged with mainstream education. Instead, each young person is given individual support, which extends not just through developing an arts practice, but to their wider lives. Kākano employs an in-house youth support coordinator, Sarah Candler, who helps young people navigate government systems and more. 'Our rangatahi rely on us a lot because they trust us. They're able to approach us with what happens in their lives and we can navigate that alongside them.' Reihana says the programme not only builds skills and self-esteem but gives young people work experience. The collective sells works at exhibitions every year and has made work for clients including Google, KiwiRail, Auckland Transport, local boards and council. When artworks produced by the collective are sold, 80 percent of the proceeds go back into the programme. Kākano Youth Arts Collective has a variety of sponsors, including Henderson-Massey Local Board, who were instrumental in setting up the programme in 2013, when it was piloted by director Mandy Patmore. 'We wouldn't be able to do what we do without the backing of Henderson-Massey local board,' says Reihana. 'They've helped tautoko and support a lot of our external projects. If you see public artwork in the area, nine times out of 10 we've had something to do with it.' Though the alumni at Kākano Youth Arts Collective never truly leave, Reihana says one of the programme's biggest achievements is helping young people transition to further training or employment. The collective has a strong partnership with the Unitech School of Art and Design, and many young people go on to pursue Foundation, Certificate or Bachelor level qualifications there. Other Kākano alumni have gone on to Ama Training Group's animation programme and have become animators. Others still have found their way into the film industry post Kākano. 'We're not a course where young people come to us for six months and then get handed off. We're a whānau here, no one leaves here without a plan.' Shona Dey, Albert-Eden Arts Broker Shona Dey is a familiar face at Frasers Cafe, located at the iconic Mt Eden intersection. Dey is the arts broker for Albert-Eden Neighbourhood Arts. Funded by the Albert-Eden Local Board, this organisation supports and promotes community-led arts and cultural activities across the two neighbourhoods. They collaborate with local artists, event organisers and creative organisations to bring ideas to life with funding, advice, marketing help and more. Dey describes her role as an arts broker succinctly: 'I'm a connector between community, arts practitioners, the local board and arts staff at Auckland Council. With local board funding, I help curate and deliver a programme of arts within the community informed by local happenings and the local environment.' It's a role that sees Dey out and about in the community most days, grabbing coffees and teas with people. Albert-Eden Neighbourhood Arts aims to keep barriers to entry low, and Dey often acts as a mentor and guide to newer arts practitioners who apply. Her typical day might include liaising with practitioners, helping with post-project reports, connecting artists to venues or other resources, or attending and facilitating community events. Dey says that her role and the model of arts delivery in Albert-Eden is unique. There's no dedicated space or location beyond the Albert-Eden area itself. But the ephemeral nature of the model has its own benefits. 'It's a very efficient model. It's cost effective, and it's agile,' says Dey. 'We're able to respond to community needs very quickly. We're able to deliver projects in small, big and micro ways to where they're needed most.' Some projects Dey has helped to facilitate include a self-published children's book written by a local postman, Mike Paterson, about the dogs he encounters on his post run. The launch was hosted at the local Time Out bookstore, and the initial print run sold out. Another is a photographic project by Sara Tautuku Orme, photographing local mana whenua, mātāwaka, kaumātua and kuia in Albert-Eden. Other projects have included theatrical, experiential arts projects aimed at activating the town centres, and increasing community cohesion and wellbeing. Arts projects can be microscale or larger in scope, with Dey trying to strike a balance. She says that the value of the arts is sometimes intangible, but the flow on effects of creating and seeing art are valuable. 'I think art is one of the pillars of mental health. It helps people feel safe in their community and like they belong. It's such an important way people communicate to others. The arts is also an important economic developer and enabler for this area, with impacts well beyond the initial programme. 'That's what I love about facilitating art in this role – it's never really over.'
