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The map that is the territory: e ploring the art of Roger Mortimer- Linda Tyler -
One describes a tale best by telling the tale. You see? The way one describes a
story, to oneself or the world, is by telling the story. It is a balancing act and it
is a dream. The more accurate the map, the more it resembles the territory. The
most accurate map possible would be the territory, and thus would be perfectly
accurate and perfectly useless. The tale is the map that is the territory.
-Neil Gaiman, Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders (2006)
Google Roger Mortimer’s name and you will disappear down a rabbit hole into a
tale of medieval manoeuvring. His fourteenth century ancestor, Roger de Mortimer, was
an English nobleman who was strategically married off at 14 to the equally youthful Joan
de Geneville. She later had the good fortune to inherit most of the Welsh marches and
Ireland as well as the 11th century Ludlow Castle in Shropshire. With this wealth behind
him, Baron Roger started the Despenser War, leading Marcher lords in a revolt against
King Edward II. Unfortunately for him, the attempt to overthrow King Edward failed, and
Baron Roger found himself chained up in the Tower of London. Helped by his mistress
Isabella, King Edward’s queen consort, he managed to escape to France where he rallied
troops to invade England and depose Edward, having him murdered at Berkeley Castle.
Three years later in 1330, Edward’s eldest son got his revenge, and Roger de Mortimer was
taken to Tyburn where he was hung without trial at the age of 43.
That story tangles with elements of Roger Mortimer’s painting: peer into the lustrous
surfaces of his early works and alongside the official-looking elaborately lettered
documents that look like royal decrees are scenes of internecine warfare, eternal
punishment in hell, beheaded figures, and much grief and sorrow over children,
marriages and money. Fifteen years ago the roll and bump of the ocean washed into his
work as well. It is there still, marooning populations on bits of coastline, mapping
territory familiar to both us and the artist. The ocean is usually shown as a blithe field of
azure; but sometimes there are patches of murky green, and often a sea monster or storm-
tossed galleon or two loom up from the water. It is all elemental stuff, and for some the sea
might symbolise the collective unconscious, that part of the human mind that Jungians
03
believe is formed by ancestral memories of experiences. It is a strange coincidence that
translating Mortimer from the French leaves you with a combination of the words for
death and sea. What seems clear is that as well as being deeply personal charts of his
experiences and imagination, Mortimer’s paintings have the potential to resonate widely,
offering imagery and ideas with universal significance.
In the first part of this exhibition, works from Mortimer’s early exhibitions E-llumination
and Southern Collection Unit are grouped. MCXXIXMMCMV (2000) is titled with a
Roman numeral version of the artist’s phone number, and reproduces the page of
the Auckland phone book where all resident Mortimers, including himself and his
immediate family, are listed, with their phone numbers spelled out in Roman numerals.
Using the calligrapher’s font to copy out each name and number in blue and gold with
occasional lines of pink, the four columns assemble together like a facsimile page from a
medieval Bible. The letter M is historiated: picked out in blue or fashioned into a pink and
golden crown, sheltering tiny figures under its arches. Found images are recycled with a
twist: rather than acting as a framing device, the blue arches of the M which surround
the tiny copy of Charles Heaphy’s iconic Mount Egmont from the Southward (1840) (painted
when Heaphy was 19 years old and visiting Mortimer’s home territory of Taranaki)
seem to spout like paired plumes of water from out of the top of the pyramidal peak.
A longboat is recuperated from Mortimer’s Danish ancestry and rows in at the top left
of the painting, while an immigrant ship sails off at the bottom right. This antiquarian
aspect gets disrupted by the occasional modern motif: a blue Morris Minor takes a
family for a jaunt at top right while a robust perambulator is proudly wheeled across the
middle of the work. It is a lexicon of family relationships, with the particularity of each
name made difficult to decipher from the clots of medieval script. The phone book acts
as a symbol for the ease of contact in the modern age of telecommunications, yet by
copying its Mortimer page out in medieval lettering, family identities are both revealed
and concealed, hinting at knotty problems and tangled genealogies which confound the
easy fix of a quick call.
As an adult student taking notes in art history lectures or from books which seemed
incomprehensible, Mortimer got the idea of casting himself in the role of a monk in
a scriptorium, endlessly copying and illuminating to convey hidden meanings. He
treasured his own mother’s art history notebooks with their careful pen and ink black
chancery calligraphy and thought that he might tackle particular documents that aggravated
him in this fashion. Bills from Metrowater, demands from the Inland Revenue
Department, and his application to Social Welfare for a sickness benefit were all upsetting
documents, couched in a terrifying language of imperatives - you must pay, amount
due, arrears, penalties and interest will accrue – paper instruments of power wielded
by faceless authorities. It would be simultaneously amusing and incomprehensible to
render them impotent by laboriously translating them into codices of medieval script. In
Debit (2000) a list of transactions, mostly debits rather than credits, document dwindling
finances. Ironically the bank statement is rendered against the shroud of a dark green
background, despite the account being in the red.
Switching to oil paint from acrylic in 2001, he first copied an image of harpooned sperm
whales thrashing off the North Cape of New Zealand in the early 1800s, the era when
nearly a million sperm whales were killed and the species was almost hunted to extinction.
In the second painting in this series, Right whales surface in the foreground, herded
onshore by the advancing whaleboats. It is an apt analogy for how Mortimer felt as the
liable parent pinioned by the spear of child support payments yet estranged from the
children he had fathered. Lettered over the surface of the image as a continuous pattern
is the text from a letter sent by the Southern Collection Unit of Inland Revenue insisting
that more monies were owed. Words resolve themselves into legible configurations to
form a melancholy litany: new payment, starting on, maintenance contributions,
deducted from your invalid’s benefit, future and so on. Like Herman Melville’s novel
Moby Dick - which coincidentally was based on observations of a white sperm whale
nicknamed Mocha Dick in the South Pacific - the theme here is the metaphysical struggle
between good and evil.
The acrylic painting Kujira (2001) shifts the source material to a 10th century Japanese
whaling manuscript, kujira being the Japanese word for whale. The imagery shows
fishermen using harpoons to kill a whale trapped in the shallows, and then cooking
up the whalemeat. Considered a gift from the gods, a whale could save villagers from
starvation in winter and led to a cult, with whale-hunting still considered a crucial part
of Japanese life today. As well as dipping into Japanese culture, Mortimer recuperates
the appearances of the European whaler’s art of scrimshaw into his practice. Rather than
engraving into actual sperm whale teeth, for the five-part work Ha (2001) in the Southern
04 05
Collections Unit series, he created life-sized dentiform ceramics which are arranged like
a votive offering. These are coincidentally shaped like eye teeth, the very ones that have
the highest value in idiomatic expression. Reading the dentally-inscribed images from
left to right reveals a narrative of courtship, marriage and children which is overlaid
with text from the official demands for payment.
Egmont Madonna (2002) is another toothy work with bite. This time a row of triangular
ceramic shark’s teeth, painted like the mountain in Charles Heaphy’s mid-nineteenth
century coastal profiles of Taranaki, assemble for duty in single file, with the central
peak decorated with a Madonna and child motif. A homage to the artist’s mother who
died in 1999, this work is lettered with the text carefully copied from the calligraphy
in her art history notebook. The work was originally exhibited with an outsized
floor sculpture shaped like a rosary and manufactured from ceramic versions of
benzodiazepine medication entitled Madonna of the Anxious and Depressed.
i’mmissingthatwhichiimagineyoucouldfill (2003) continues to use text as graphic imagery,
and is based on letters written to wife Gina when she was living in Australia. The pink
text is relieved by blue versions of the postage stamps affixed to each missive in a coy
rendition of the traditional colour codes for male and female. This evokes the concepts
of animus and anima, the male aspect of the female psyche, and the female aspect
of male psyche, as explained by the Viennese psychoanalyst Carl Jung: “Woman is
compensated by a masculine element and therefore her unconscious has, so to speak,
a masculine imprint. This results in a considerable psychological difference between
men and women, and accordingly I have called the projection-making factor in women
the animus, which means mind or spirit.”
As well as referencing Jungian ideas, in its use of simulacra and copies Mortimer’s work
could be described as exemplifying “the map–territory relationship”: reminding us that
reality should not be confused with its representation. Polish-American scientist and
philosopher Alfred Korzybski came up with this label: "The map is not the territory",
he says, “just as the word is not the thing". Mortimer migrated his method to more
literal mapping around 2007, and these map works form the basis for the second part
of this exhibition. He began by importing those aspects of portolan charts which are
based on compass directions and estimated distances observed by the pilots at sea, and
then overlaying personal and prophetic messages. In The Science of Disaster (2009), a
propeller-driven Lockheed Constellation plane is airborne over a territory represented
in two modes: mapped, and as a landscape rendered Chinese scroll painting. Porpoises
leap where love is lettered, but the plane, a memento of the artist’s Tauranga childhood,
casts a sinister shadow shaped like a hammerhead shark. This portent is a reminder that,
in the artist’s view, the scientific paradigm that humankind has been operating under
might be dangerous, and that it is time to plot a course for a more wholistic approach.
In Tiritiri (2010) the familiar shape of Tiritiri Matangi, the bird sanctuary island of the
Hauraki Gulf where the artist’s parents’ ashes are scattered, is populated with alchemical
figures mixed with Christian symbolism like the Lamb of God. The sea is embossed with
both the name for the island, separated into two words so that it refers to plantings, and
the Māori words rātā and āta, the building and nurturing of relationships. A reminder
of the twenty-first century is the surveillance satellite which joins the gull in the sky,
hovering like auguries over the sea. Manaia (2010) has a dragon flapping over the surfing
paradise of the Mahia Peninsula, while Eclipse of the Fisher King (2011) puts the keeper of
the Holy Grail of Arthurian legend into play with a diagram of a solar eclipse over North
Cape, the exit point for spirits according to Māori. This latter painting is a reminder
of the superimposition of one culture over another in Aotearoa. Those planetary
observations that were the supposed purpose behind James Cook’s first voyage to the
South Pacific – specifically the Transit of Venus – were the alibi for a tacit agenda to
locate and map Terra Australis Incognita, leading to colonisation.
Other map works imbed meaning in the maritime. The Messenger (2011) depicts Mercury
Bay with the eponymous Greek messenger above the Sea of Friendship, while below,
the Portuguese explorer Ferdinand Magellan finds his Mar Pacifico or peaceful (Pacific)
ocean after the tumult of rounding Cape Horn. North Taranaki Bight (2011) etches a
grisaille Madonna onto the map in place of the mountain, using a broken surfboard as
the vehicle for the message. Cartographic imagery is strewn across the field of vision in
these paintings not in reference to place so much as to people: Mortimer has delved
into psychologist Carl Jung ideas about universal, archaic patterns and images which
derive from the collective unconscious.
06 07
Archetypal motifs that Jung describes include the apocalypse, the deluge and creation.
Mortimer’s most recent series of paintings have deployed representations of the apostle
St John’s apocalyptic prophesy from the Book of Revelation in the New Testament.
St John the Divine had a wild imagination, and in medieval manuscripts his descriptions
were accompanied by equally fantastic pictorial embellishments. Christ as a sacrificial
lamb, and the Virgin crowned with stars standing on a crescent moon are two of St
John’s most famous tropes, but his narrative is also loaded with obscure allegorical
references and the symbolic use of numbers. St Jerome, who translated the Bible into
Latin in the fourth century, commented that the text had "as many mysteries as it does
words". Mortimer maintains the enigmatic quality in the ink and acrylic lacquer on
canvas Northerly Wind (2014). Using a manuscript source for his imagery, Mortimer puts
the diamond shape of the four red-robed angels standing at the four corners of the
earth at the centre of the composition. They are holding back the four winds “so that
no wind would blow on land or sea or on any tree”. Lettered over the blue background
is the word Hauraki, which translates as north-west wind, which blew in many raiding
parties to wreak havoc on Māori in Tāmaki Makaurau, as well as missionaries and
settlers from the northern hemispheres.
In his latest works, Mortimer has settled on imagery from the illustrations to a copy
of Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy, a fifteenth century Italian manuscript held in the
British Library known as Yates Thompson 36. Symbolising the spiritual quest of human
life, Divine Comedy tells the story of Dante’s travels through the three realms of the
dead: Inferno (Hell), Purgatorio (Purgatory), and Paradiso (Paradise). Mortimer uses the
medieval representations of battles in hell as a metaphor, bringing the contest between
left and right hemispheres of the human brain into view. Responsible for incompatible
versions of the world, each hemisphere has different priorities and values. Calculation
and logical thinking from the left hemisphere are more highly valued than creativity
and the artistic senses from the right. The dilemma of the exhibition’s title is the
human predicament: it could be argued that left-brain thinking has blocked action
toward a sustainable future. Unless brought into balance by the right hemisphere,
the left will triumph – at the expense of us all.
Roger Mortimer was born in Mangakino, New Zealand in 1956. Since graduating
with a BFA from Elam School of Fine Arts in 1999, Mortimer has exhibited regularly in
Auckland and Wellington.
His work was included in the Artspace shows Flesh and Fruity and After Killeen (2001) in
Auckland, Portraiture (2003) at Te Tuhi, Pakuranga, and High Chair (2005) at ST PAUL St
Gallery, Auckland.
In 2014 he was the Paramount winner of the Wallace Art Awards and subsequently spent
six months at the International Studio and Curatorial Program in New York. His work is
included in public and private collections in New Zealand, Australia and France.
Roger Mortimer currently lives and works in Auckland.
Artist Biography
08
List of Works
MCXXIXMMCMV, 2000 acrylic on canvas 1800 x 1300 mm
Private collection
Debit, 2000 acrylic on canvas
1130 x 700 mmPrivate Collection
Southern Collection Unit 1, 2001 oil on canvas
430 x 700 mmCollection of Craig Anderson,
Auckland
Southern Collection Unit 2, 2001 oil on canvas 340 x 530 mm
Collection of K Nola and S O’ Dowd, Big Omaha
Kujira, 2001 acrylic on canvas
1200 x 540 mmPrivate collection,
Auckland
25
Ha, 2001 china paint and wax on 5 ceramic whale teeth
Ranging from 95 x 75 mm to 160 x 75 mm eachPrivate collection,
Tauranga
Egmont Madonna, 2002china paint on ceramic shark teeth
350 x 3000 mmCollection of the artist
i'mmissingthatwhichiimagineyoucouldfill, 2003 acrylic on canvas
1240 x 900 mmPrivate collection,
Auckland
The Science of Disaster, 2009 acrylic on canvas1050 x 1350 mm
Private collection, Auckland
Manaia, 2010 acrylic on canvas1200 x 1500 mm
Collection of The University of Auckland
Tiritiri, 2010 acrylic on canvas
760 x 1015 mm Private collection,
Auckland
North Taranaki Bight, 2011 etched fiberglass surfboard and ink
1850 x 450 mm Courtesy of the artist
and Bartley + Company Art, Wellington
Eclipse of the Fisher King, 2011 acrylic on canvas
910 x 1520 mmPrivate collection,
Wellington
The Messenger, 2011 acrylic on canvas
1215 x 1815 mm Private collection
Northerly Wind, 2014 ink and acrylic lacquer on canvas
1400 x 2000 mm Collection of Nadene Milne
2726
Dilemma Hill, 2016 watercolour, gold dust, charcoal
and acrylic lacquer on canvas1400 x 1800 mm
Private collection
Dusky Sound, 2016 watercolour, gold dust, charcoal
and acrylic lacquer on canvas1860 x 3220 mm
Courtesy of the artist and Bartley + Company Art,
Wellington
Bay of Islands, 2014 ink and charcoal on canvas
600 x 650 mmPrivate collection,
Auckland
Port Nicholson, 2015 watercolour and charcoal on board
480 x 630 mmBarry Hopkins Art Trust
Courtesy Waikato Museum Te Whare Taonga o Waikato
Doubtless Bay, 2015 NY watercolour and charcoal on board
600 x 800 mmCollection of Gerry Hetet
& Jordan Draffin, Auckland
Spirits Bay, 2015 NY watercolour and charcoal on board
600 x 800 mmCollection of the artist
2928
Thanks Iwould like to thank the many people who contributed time and effort towards the
creation of this exhibition and catalogue:
Mark Hutchins-Pond, for all his efforts and care in putting this collection together, and
the staff at Pātaka Art + Museum; Linda Tyler, of The Gus Fisher Gallery, Auckland, for
her collaboration and writing on this project; Alison Bartley at Bartley + Company Art,
for her commitment; Richard Killeen for our weekly coffee meetings; and my family for
their ongoing support and robust feedback.
I particularly wish to thank all the people who generously lent their paintings and
ceramics for the exhibition and Aloysius and Eileen Teh and Paul Robinson for sponsoring
the publication of this catalogue.
Roger Mortimer
31
Curator:Mark Hutchins-Pond
Essay:Linda Tyler Director, Centre for Art Studies The University of Auckland
Publication design: Stu Forsyth Artwork photography: Mark Tantrum pages 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 18, 19, 22 Roger Mortimer pages 1, 16, 17, 20, 21 Publication printing: Service Printers
Pātaka Art + Museum acknowledges the generous support from:Aloysius and Eileen TehPaul RobinsonThe Woolstore Group Pātaka Foundation All lenders Bartley + Company Art
Image page 1: Dilemma Hill, 2016
Published on the occasion of the exhibition:
Roger Mortimer Dilemma Hill26 February – 21 May 2017
www.pataka.org.nzCnr Norrie & Parumoana Streets, PO Box 50 218, Porirua City 5240, New Zealand, Ph: +64 4 237 1511
Roger Mortimer Dilemma Hill8 July – 2 September 2017
The Gus Fisher GalleryThe Kenneth Myers Centre74 Shortland StreetAuckland Central