By Roselyn Fauth
Digitised publications from Christchurch Art Gallery. South Canterbury Artists: a retrospective view on South Canterbury Artists, published by the Aigantighe Art Gallery in association with the South Canterbury Arts Society in 1990. https://christchurchartgallery.org.nz/media/uploads/2017_12/SouthCanterburyArtists.pdf The catalogue was published to accompany an exhibition of the same name in 1990, showcasing works held in the Aigantighe Art Gallery’s collection by artists from or connected to South Canterbury. It was a way to look back at the legacy of the South Canterbury Arts Society, celebrate local creativity, and reflect on what had been built so far, both through the artworks and the community that supported them.
Sometimes when I’m on the hunt for something, I stumble into something else entirely, like this catalogue from an exhibition called South Canterbury Artists: A Retrospective View, held at the Aigantighe Art Gallery with the South Canterbury Arts Society. This is one of those side quests that gets my creative juices flowing...
At first glance, it looked like a record of artworks and biographies. But the more I read, I realised this also a carefully gathered story of our region. A civic memory. A group of people who saw beauty here, who tried to make sense of what they saw, had views, ideas, who wanted to share those with others through their art.
It made me reflect on how important it is to have a civic art collection. Something held in common. Something that reflects back who we are and how we’ve seen the world over time...
Looking through the pages, I could see how hard people had worked over many decades to build and protect a collection like this. The early Arts Society members from the 1890s already understood how vital it was to preserve local work. They wanted to show, to educate, and eventually to create a gallery where this community could see itself.
It wasn’t just about collecting “great art” or big names. It was about local artists, both well known and lesser known, who captured something real about South Canterbury. They sketched, painted, carved, printed. They taught in schools, gathered in each other’s living rooms, lent paintings to exhibitions, pooled cars for weekend sketching trips, and offered criticism with kindness. There was joy and generosity in it.
Reading this now, decades later, feels like opening a time capsule. It’s a reminder that collecting isn't just about objects. It's about relationships, and effort, and vision. It's about who gets remembered.
I found myself especially drawn to the stories in the margins. People like Rev James Preston, who painted watercolours around the Rangitata River while also tending to his parish. Or Esther Hope, who trained at the Slade School in London but came home to paint the Mackenzie Country in light-filled gouache. There was also a thread running through these pages about the work of women artists... which I personaly resonate with.
There was real variety too. Printmakers like A J Rae and Denise Copland. Sculptors like Cliff Brunsden. More contemporary painters like Joanna Braithwaite and Philip Trusttum. Each offering a different way of seeing. And each a reminder that art that lives in homes, offices, galleries and museums were made in garages, studios, on the roadside, or in school halls.
As someone who loves history and place-based storytelling, this catalogue really interested me. It’s a tangible thing, yes... but it also holds much more than information. I see the intent. It shows what people cared about. What they gave time and energy to. What they wanted to remember, even the fashions, influences, and art movements.
It also holds value for artists today. Seeing the work of those who came before... there's noting like seeing the brushstrokes, scale, the techniques in person, maybe sharing a conversation about the arts experiments or details... art can be a powerful source of learning and inspiration. It gives artists a chance to study, to respond, to challenge, to evolve. A public collection creates a conversation across time. It shows that local art has always mattered here, and that there’s space for new voices to emerge too.
It also makes me think about what we collect now. Are we continuing to make space for the next generation of artists? Are we open to bold or unfamiliar work? Are we still supporting the idea that a civic art collection is worth building, not for prestige, but for connection?
“Looking through the 1990s catalogue brought something home for me. That show wasn’t just about looking back. It showed what had already been quietly growing here... artists, stories, moments in time. It made me realise how important it is to keep building and caring for our civic collection. We’re not just supporting artists in the moment... we’re leaving something behind that future generations can connect to. A civic art collection isn’t about bragging rights. It’s about the impact it makes... on the people who see it, the artists it inspires, and the legacy it leaves behind.”
— Roselyn Fauth, 2025
I’m really proud to have been one of many supporters of the Aigantighe Art Gallery over the years... especially as a member of the Friends of the Aigantighe, who are about to celebrate their 50th year. For five decades, the Friends have supported the gallery team, artists, visitors, and the wider community, helping to inspire and celebrate a love of the arts in South Canterbury.
They’ve fundraised, advocated, and championed all kinds of projects... from conserving important works and contributing to new acquisitions, to supporting exhibitions, education programmes, and community events. They’ve also worked to make art more accessible. That might mean free entry, improved signage, artist talks, or simply creating a space where people feel welcome and comfortable exploring creativity.
To me, it’s a powerful reminder that community really does make culture.