By Roselyn Fauth
I never set out to win awards for volunteering. In fact, most of the time I wasn’t sure I knew what I was doing. But what I’ve learned is that giving your time to the arts is about far more than murals, plaques, or galleries — it’s about building belonging.
I’ve often wondered: what really makes a place feel like home? It’s not just the houses or the roads... it is the people that make a home. Strip away the murals, the libraries, the galleries, the plaques, and the playgrounds, and you’d be left with roads, pipes, and buildings — but not a community.
People sometimes ask me why I give so much of my time to the arts. On the surface, it might look like a “nice-to-have” — exhibitions, concerts, murals, heritage plaques, or even playground designs that carry creative storytelling. But the truth is, the arts are not a luxury. They are essential.
I know this because I’ve seen it firsthand, again and again, as a volunteer. And being part of that story has taught me a lot about myself.
So here is a blog about what I have learned through volunteering, why I am so passionate about the arts, and how I hope the recent awards that I have recieved could inpsire others...
Why I Keep Showing Up
What I’ve tried to set out to do is not only work out what I want from my own life, but to ask how I can contribute to my community. Research shows that giving back, fostering purpose, and connecting with others are powerful ingredients for long-lasting happiness and wellbeing.
Studies show that volunteering is strongly linked to greater life satisfaction, self-esteem, wellbeing, and even physical health. It can reduce stress, lower blood pressure, and strengthen our resilience. Long-term research confirms it’s not just a feel-good correlation: people who give their time and energy to others experience real, positive changes in their lives, including longer life expectancy. Reports like the World Happiness Report highlight that what truly matters for lasting happiness isn’t wealth or status, but strong social connections, purpose, and a sense of belonging. In other words, giving back to your community is good for you as well as for others — it creates the kind of meaning and joy that money can’t buy.
It makes sense when you think of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Roads, pipes, and buildings take care of our basics. But belonging, esteem, and purpose come from community — from giving back, from creating meaning together. Contributing to the arts and heritage is part of that higher need for purpose and connection. It’s how we move beyond surviving, to really living.
Learning Through Volunteering
This year has been pretty special, and I was blown away by the nominations for a few awards. It felt strange to be singled out, because like many people who volunteer, my focus has always been on the outcomes rather than on myself. While it is nice to be seen, I haven’t done anything in isolation — I’ve been part of many teams, alongside many people, all working to make a difference in our community. My personal focus has been on contributing to the arts, culture, and heritage of our region, but when I stood on stage giving my thank-yous, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being an imposter — and I think I’ve finally understood why.
I didn’t really know what I was doing when I started, but there were many skilled people on the Friends committee who did. They became wonderful mentors, teaching me how to be a volunteer, chair a meeting, serve as secretary or treasurer, manage communications, care for a membership, host with warmth and professionalism, listen deeply, and think critically. Volunteering has been a kind of on-the-job learning you don’t always get in a classroom or workplace.
And having the right people around you makes all the difference. I’m not going to lie — committees are not always easy. Sometimes they can feel like the place where good ideas go to die. But when you have a committee that listens, encourages, and works together, it becomes the opposite: a place where ideas grow, take shape, and turn into something real for the community.
The truth is, none of us do this work alone — we do it alongside others, often quietly, with the focus on the community rather than ourselves. So when the spotlight turns our way, it feels uncomfortable, even undeserved. But that discomfort is really just growth in disguise, a reminder that stepping into new spaces is part of making a difference.
I hope that with the existence of awards for volunteers, we can share how rewarding it is, and inspire others to join in — to build on the legacy of those who have gone before us, to make an impact for the people around us, and for those who will come after.
Building on a Legacy
When I think about the Aigantighe, I’m reminded that we are never starting from scratch. The gallery itself began as a gift — the Grant family home, offered so that art could be shared freely with our community. The founding collection was built piece by piece through generosity, vision, and the belief that South Canterbury deserved its own cultural heart. Over the decades, council and gallery staff have carried that vision forward, caring for the house, the collection, and the people who walk through its doors. Every volunteer, every staff member, every artist since then has added to that legacy. My work, and the work of the Friends, is just one chapter in a much longer story — one that honours those who came before while making space for those still to come.
More Than What You Give, creating meaning together
It’s so long ago that I’m not entirely sure when I joined the Friends of Aigantighe Art Gallery committee, but I know I was there by 2004/2005 because I remember John Badcock signing his book for me at his opening that I helped to host that year. I was invited to join the committee, while serving on the Board of Executives for Arts Canterbury, and with my dad, Geoff Cloake, we have been part of the fun for two of the organisations five decades. It’s amazing to think that this year we will head into the Friends of Aigantighe’s 50th year of service to the Gallery’s staff and our community.
I used to think that volunteering was all about what I could give. Now, on reflection, I realise it is also about what you receive. Through volunteering I have met so many wonderful people, made special friends, and met nearly every artist who has exhibited at the Gallery over 20 years. It has been a wonderful journey, supporting staff, celebrating artists’ milestones, hosting our members at openings, being inspired by interesting people, and making memories. The Aigantighe Art Gallery is my second home — our home for art in South Canterbury. I am so grateful to have been part of the Friends’ journey for over 20 years, all of my adult life. For as much as I have given, I have received tenfold in friendships, skills, and memories.
That learning at the Aigantighe has shaped how I see volunteering everywhere else. And I realise now, that you dont have to be the first, the most or the best, to be able to make an impact. You just need a great team, strong vision, and be prepared to get stuck in.
But it also taught me something else: how important it is to have the right people and culture around the table. I’m not going to lie, committees are not always easy. They can be the place where your best ideas stall, get lost in process, or never see daylight. But when you sit alongside people who are generous, collaborative, and committed, a committee becomes the opposite — a place where ideas are nurtured, where people bring out the best in each other, and where real change begins.
My Top Tips for Effective Committees, based on what I’ve learned from two decades of volunteering with amazing people:
1. Start with a clear purpose. If everyone understands why the committee exists, you have a compass to steer by when things get tough. Purpose keeps you aligned and motivated.
2. Get the right mix of people. A strong committee needs a balance — big-picture thinkers, detail people, organisers, encouragers. Too much of one type, and things stall. The mix matters.
3. Build a culture of respect. Listen well, let people be heard, and don’t be afraid of constructive debate. Respectful culture is what turns a committee from a dead end into a space where ideas thrive.
4. Share the leadership. Good chairs guide, they don’t dictate. Secretaries, treasurers, hosts — every role matters. The best committees share the load, so no one burns out and everyone feels part of it.
5. Be willing to do the work. Talk alone doesn’t get murals painted or galleries opened. The best people are the ones who quietly follow through, roll up their sleeves, and keep the wheels turning.
6. Focus on legacy, not ego. Committees work best when members put community ahead of personal agendas. The question is always: what will serve people now, and what will last for those who come after?
Creating Meaning Together
When I started volunteering, it was because I wanted to help my community. What I didn’t realise was how much the community would give back to me in return. Whether it’s through CPlay, the Friends of the Aigantighe, supporting council subcommittees, heritage work with the Civic Trust, or the Aoraki Women’s Fund, I’ve seen the way people light up when they feel part of something bigger than themselves.
I’ve learned that volunteering isn’t just about filling gaps or “helping out.” It’s about creating meaning. When you stand in front of a mural, or help open the doors of a gallery, or see a family playing together in a space that was designed with love, you’re reminded that people need more than food and shelter. They need beauty, memory, imagination, and connection.
Why the Arts Matter
It can be frustrating to hear the arts described as “extras.” Roads, pipes, hospitals — yes, we need those things. But a town with only those things is not a community. The arts are what turn space into place. They are the stories etched in our heritage buildings, the colour splashed on our walls, the music that carries us through hard times, the books that shape our children, the quiet gallery where someone finds peace after loss.
I advocate for the arts because I know they are key to wellbeing and resilience. I’ve seen how heritage anchors us, how creativity sparks young people to dream, and how cultural spaces help us bridge divides. In Timaru, buildings like the Landing Services, the Customhouse, and the old Carnegie Library (now our Council building) are proof that generations before us understood this. They invested not just in utility but in meaning. We must do the same.
The Personal Why
For me, advocating for the arts isn’t about prestige, or even preservation. It’s about legacy. What we build, support, and sustain now will be the stories our children inherit. Just as philanthropists like Andrew Carnegie believed wealth should be used for the good of all, I believe time, energy, and passion can be gifted in the same way. Volunteering is my way of living that out.
If we want to create a strong, vibrant Timaru, we must treat the arts as essential, not optional. We must support them with the same seriousness we give to other forms of infrastructure. Because without them, we risk becoming a space without roots — and a future without vision.
This is why I keep showing up, why I keep lending my voice, and why I keep giving my time. It’s not always easy, and it’s rarely glamorous. But every hour given is an investment in something bigger: a community where creativity and heritage are not just “nice to have,” but the very heart of who we are.
Placemaking Through Creativity
When we invest in the arts and heritage, we leave something lasting — not only for ourselves, but for those who come after.
Across Timaru, you don’t have to look far to see how creativity transforms space into place. At Caroline Bay, the CPlay playground is more than swings and slides — it’s storytelling woven into play, connecting children to local history and the natural environment in ways that are fun, accessible, challenging, and meaningful.
At the Aigantighe Art Gallery, the collection and exhibitions offer more than paintings on a wall. They give people moments of healing, reflection, and inspiration — a peaceful space to celebrate the love of art in South Canterbury, to support the artists, care for what they make, and invite an audience to find their own meaning.
I love a wander around Stafford Street and our CBD, finding heritage plaques and signage that slow us down and encourage us to look up and look down — to see not just another row of old buildings, but windows into the lives of those who came before. Designers, makers, users of those places — their stories are more than bricks and mortar; they are shared memory, a link to our past.
Murals splash colour across our town, bringing vibrancy, sharing stories, and transforming places into spaces. Public art becomes a landmark, a source of identity, a reminder that Timaru District and the wider region are not only functional but alive and expressive.
Even our built heritage speaks to this legacy. The Carnegie Library (now the Timaru District Council building) was funded by a man who believed that knowledge should be free to all. It still stands as a symbol of civic life, proof that earlier generations invested in meaning as much as utility.
These examples remind us that the arts are not “extras.” They are essential. They shape how we gather, how we heal, how we reflect and remember, and how we look to the future. They are what make a town a community, and what root us in both place and purpose.
This is why the arts matter. This is why I am so passionate. They are more than decoration. They are the heart of who we are, and the vision of who we can become.
Amazing to think after all these years, now our children are at the Gallery enjoying it, just like I did when I was there age. - Annabelle and Medinella Fauth
Roselyn Fauth in her Jackson Street studio in 2019. Photo Annelies Cloake
11 December 2020 Judy Millar (Auckland) Eleven and Pat Currie (Timaru) Tideline with Roselyn with Faye - Photo Geoff Cloake
4 May 2018 Helen Wilcock (Timaru) - Roselyn playing the Friends piano for Friends at the opening - Photo Geoff Cloake
16 Dec 2016 Euan MacLeod (Sydney) Painter and Zita Waldron (Timaru) Of Time and Place. Roselyn and Neil serve Jill a wine at opening night. - Photo Geoff Cloake
Timaru rocks - colour the night festival at the Timaru Botanic Gardens
Sep 2016. Diamond Anniversary: 60 Years of the Aigantighe. Permanent Collection and Grant family photographs. Friends team and Aigantighe staff - Photo Geoff Cloake
7 Feb 2016 Cindy King (Timaru) and Debbie Templeton-Page (Timaru) Hope and Connections, and Clarissa Lim (Wellington) Hybrids. - Photo Geoff Cloake
4 Dec 2015 - Nigel Brown Iam /We are (Invercargill) Mike Armstrong with Roselyn Fauth - - Photo Geoff Cloake
11 Jul 2014: Here & Now - Photo Geoff Cloake
27 Jun 2013 Matt Couper Thirty Three (USA) - Mike Armstrong, Towards the Stranding of the Faerie Queen (Timaru) - Photo Geoff Cloake
Nov 2012: Graham Bennett. Weighting & Waiting and Animal Sign / Animal Mind Sue Pearson, Barbara Penn, KryssiStaikidis, Kate Walker, Melanie Yazzie (USA, Guatamala, Norfolk Island, New Zealand) - Photo Geoff Cloake
22 Jun 2012: Geoff Cloake At Large and James Robinson. Age of Transformation (Dunedin) - Photo Geoff Cloake
26 Mar 2012: 10 Years: NZ Hat & Hair Art and Louise Greig From the Shadows (Auckland) Peta John Sisson and Roselyn Cloake at the bar - Photo Geoff Cloake
1 Jul 2011: Clare Earlie Maxwell Eau Revoir and Bronwyn Shimmin Braided. Friends team - Photo Geoff Cloake
Apr 2011: Nigel Buxton Capriccios (Christchurch) and Suzanna Izard Range (Christchurch). - Photo Geoff Cloake
3 Dec 2010: Hannah Kidd Beastly Delights and Lynne Kerr Blue. - Photo Geoff Cloake
1 Sep 2008: Jane VenisFreakquent Viewing (Dunedin) and Andrew Cameron Sheep–ish (Geraldine). - Photo Geoff Cloake
1 Sep 2008: Jane VenisFreakquent Viewing (Dunedin) and Andrew Cameron Sheep–ish (Geraldine). - Photo Geoff Cloake
5 Dec 2008: David Woodings Just Hanging Out For a Ride (Christchurch) and Rua Pick Te Whare o Anupihi (Christchurch) - Photo Geoff Cloake
4 Sep 2009: Jane Zusters Wall Talking (Christchurch) and Terence Johnstone Mystery - Photo Geoff Cloake
29 Apr 2010: Ewan McDougal I must not use so much colour (Dunedin) and Diana Smillie The Rose Paper Room. - Photo Geoff Cloake
- Photo Geoff Cloake
21 Augc 2007: Sacred Legacy (Edward S Curtis photographs and Native American Art from US and NZ museum and private collections) and Deidre Copeland (artist’s collection Cromwell) - Photo Geoff Cloake
21 Augc 2007: Sacred Legacy (Edward S Curtis photographs and Native American Art from US and NZ museum and private collections) and Deidre Copeland (artist’s collection Cromwell) - Photo Geoff Cloake
15 June 2007: Geoff Cloake Revenge (artist’s collection Timaru) and Joanna Margaret Paul Subjects to Hand (Mahara Gallery Waikanae). We used to dress up in theme to make our openings feel more fun and celebratory. - Photo Geoff Cloake
Making Friends - Photo Geoff Cloake
9 Mar 2007: Bryan Pearson Richard Pearse (artist’s collection Napier) and 3D (Aigantighe’s entire sculpture collection) dress up for the pilot themed opening night - Photo Geoff Cloake
