Gerrard’s command of the human form is on full display in this show, with the re-introduction of figure studies that offer a statuesque yet ethereal presence. Poised, serene, and juxtaposed with feathery and delicate fragments; they reflect the artist having spent sustained periods of time looking over classical statues and religious paintings, reading gothic novels, and pondering historic approaches and attitudes to angels and the supernatural.

The lingering influence of the Pre-Raphaelites is felt in these figures, as it is in Gerrard’s detailed, concentrated focus on the natural world. The Pre-Raphaelites, a group of young artists, poets, and art critics in the Victorian period, rejected the expected, idealized version of the world in favour of an uncompromising and unprecedented realism that made them Britain’s first avant-garde art movement. They often drew their subjects from mythology, Christianity, and literature, but they were transmuted through a painstaking prism of realism; through a dogmatic adherence to the dictum “truth to nature.” The result in many of the groups’ paintings is a harmonious melding of portraiture with landscape art, where figures are expertly rendered and all species of bird, plant, and tree are readily identifiable. Works such as Ophelia (1852) and Autumn Leaves (1856) by leading Pre-Raphaelite Sir John Everett Millais, are particularly apt – imbued as they are with a pertinent sense of solemnity, loss, and transformation.

Thematic and stylistic echoes are apparent in Gerrard’s stunning new work Still in Every Sense. Here, a confluence of truncated figurative forms coalesces into a patchwork that borders on the abstract. Feathers, human hair – both chestnut and auburn – and a tumbling mass of hydrangea petals envelop most of the two female figures, but we are gifted an aquiline nose, a curled ear, and one deep-lidded eye that gazes resolutely out of the picture plane and away into the distance beyond our own sightline. Along with Pre-Raphaelite elegance, the work is redolent of the Victorian photographer Julia Margaret Cameron – a recurrent source of inspiration for Gerrard – who famously moulded her sitters into classical, religious, or literary characters, and who favoured a close-up format and soft focus. Many of her portraits, like Gerrard’s Still in Every Sense, are marked by a monumental silence and tranquillity, and by an inherently sculptural dimension. In Our Share of Night this atmospheric quality is woven through with a thread of the macabre and fantastical that speaks to the influence of fellow Victorians William Blake and the French artist Gustave Doré. Irrespective of subject matter, however, Gerrard imparts all of his work with a stillness, with a quiet pulchritude; they are serene, self-possessed, other-worldly.

Much of this suite of works has a local immediacy: the hydrangeas (Hydrangea macrophylla) are instantly recognizable, flowering as they do across a wide expanse of New Zealand Aotearoa in the summer months, while kowhai (Sophora tetraptera), a native, spring-time bloom, is frequently cited as the country’s national flower. The artist’s interest in the natural world, and, more specifically, in Aotearoa’s native flora, is a longstanding and central part of his practice. As a child, he graced the cover of Andrew Crowe’s 1994 publication What Native Forest Plant? Appearing alongside his mother, who herself worked in publishing, was an avid gardener, and was largely responsible for directing Gerrard’s attention to the plant life that surrounds him. In Tawari St, Mt Eden I and Tawari St, Mt Eden II we are greeted by knobby snippets of wood, serpentine stamens, and caps and petals that are dusty and desiccating. A glimmer of the iconic, buttery yellow remains, but a ghostly grey also slowly marches over it. As in all of Gerrard’s work, this onset of age and decay is startlingly beautiful. It is a poignant reminder that time is fleeting.

This is likewise seen in Gerrard’s studies of the bold, bulbous hydrangeas, for which he is well known. We dwell on the spotted, mottled, creased, and crumpled. We watch as petals turn slowly from white through a blush of pink to a soft, pale brown, and on to a shrunken grey. In some works, such as St Aubyn St, Devonport and Athenree Rd, Waihi Beach, the blooms border on the pristine with only a faint curling of a few petals and a soft bruising of others that is suggestive of the decline to come. In others, like Matai Bay Road, Matai Bay the flower is well past its prime, but while the colours are no longer as saturated and the petals no longer as plump, these blown flowers are mesmeric. Time’s power is most clearly present in Lindemann Rd, Katikati where two stems of the same plant are contrasted – the one offering shades of rose, lilac, mauve, while the other is faded, withered, and existing in a palette of brown and grey gradients. While we generally prize flowers in full bloom, under Gerrard’s hand, those that are blown hold an entrancing, enticing faculty – they encourage us to get close, to follow the stalks and tendrils that weave and crisscross over each other and to linger in the shadowy spaces that are created inbetween.

There is nothing simple in a still-life study. These are meticulous, thoughtful ruminations on the inexorable passing of time, on societal concepts of beauty and desire, and on the endless variety and motion of the natural world. There is mystery and splendour here, as with all of Gerard’s work. His works radiate with a tenderness, with consummate skill, and with an unwavering commitment to rendering the seemingly impossible completely possible. A magician’s trick. In the process, Gerrard preserves a piece of nature and a slice of time that endures well beyond its fleeting moment in the physical world. Indeed, the motto that Millais chose reverberates throughout: Ars longa, vita brevis (life is short, but art endures).

Essay by Dr Jemma Field

Gerrard is an artist whose practice explores the fragility of existence. Known for his depictions of the hydrangea (Hydrangea macrophylla) in various states of blossom and decay the artist produces works in meticulous detail, in pastel and charcoal.
 
Over the past year Gerrard has expanded his subject matter to explore the moth; an insect which has the average lifespan of one to six months but can sometimes live for a single day.
 
In this new exhibition, the artist will present a suite of beautifully rendered, larger than life moths, as well as hydrangea and a new subject matter – the rose.
 
Depending on the species, the rose lives anywhere between six and one hundred years, and cyclically blooms and withers with the seasons of spring and winter.
 
A symbol of romance and love, beauty and courage the rose has been celebrated in art history for time immemorial.
 
In the case of his floral works Gerrard titles each work by the location in which the flower was discovered. Named after an area of East London the titles of the roses are Haggerston Park I & II, a location that the artist visited in 2022.

Gerrard is an artist whose practice offers a contemporary take on the 17th century still life vanitas. Closely related to memento mori still lifes, vanitas gently remind us of the fragility and transience of life. 

Most recently Gerrard has explored this theme through the depiction of plants and flowers, and other aspects of wildlife that one can find in a garden. The artist has become known for his depictions of the hydrangea (Hydrangea macrophylla) in various states of blossom and decay. In recent months the artist has started to explore the moth as subject matter, an insect which has the average lifespan of one to six months, but in many cases lives for only one to two weeks. 

Gerrard is known for the exquisite, meticulous detail with which he paints and draws. Notions of the passing of time are made apparent not only through his chosen subject matter but by the very processes that he employs.

In the case of his floral works Gerrard titles each work by the location in which the flower was discovered. In doing so Gerrard ensures the works embody a sense of place; an insight into the artist’s travels as he encounters each of his carefully selected subjects at specific moments in time.

Hydrangeas in various states of bloom naturally celebrate beauty as they blossom with vitality and rich colour. However as others deteriorate and enter their own gentle state of withering and wilting, they acknowledge the fading of beauty and the nature of impermanence. 

Notions of passing time are made apparent not only through the plant’s inevitable life cycle but also within the processes employed by Gerrard. His meticulous and laborious practice reflects his own personal investment of time spent. 

Works are titled by the location in which each flower was discovered. In doing so Gerrard ensures the works embody a sense of place, an insight into the artist’s travels as he encounters each of his carefully selected subjects at specific moments in time. Although we are generously given the map we will never be able to find his treasure as it is presently depicted.

Cruel Bloom II is a continuation of Gerrard's 2019 exhibition and sees the artist chronicle hydrangeas at various stages of their life cycle starting at full bloom, rich in both colour and life. Slowly, Gerrard depicts the petals gracefully starting to curl with age as they eventually disintegrate into delicate skeletons adorned with cobwebs. Like much of Gerrard’s works, the hydrangeas manifest both beauty and decay, acting as a reminder of the temporality of existence and exhibiting the beauty of time passing.

Liam Gerrard’s drawings lie in continual juxtaposition; ominous and familiar, terrifying but beautiful, wild yet meticulously captured on paper. Gerrard’s ability to both entice and disturb at once has continually informed the artist’s practice. 

Cruel Bloom sees Gerrard chronical hydrangeas at various stages of their life cycle starting at full bloom, rich in both colour and life. Slowly, Gerrard depicts the petals gracefully starting to curl with age as they eventually disintegrate into delicate skeletons adorned with cobwebs. Like much of Gerrard’s works, the hydrangeas manifest both beauty and decay, acting as a reminder of the temporality of existence and exhibiting the beauty of time passing.

There is something afoot … head, tooth and nail, in the work of Liam Gerrard. Beautiful, brutal, and unflinching visages arise out of black dust, taking form through lost rituals of conjuring. With deft and sensitive acuity Gerrard calls forth visions which unveil subject matter that communes and conspires in tightly bound references and loosely flayed allusions. For the viewer, there is that which is seen and that which is not, and in between lies the slumber of revelation that rouses and rumbles when the most unlikely of unions are made.  

Over the years Gerrard has created finely detailed charcoal and graphite drawings that ride on the ever-mounting raft of source material available to contemporary image makers. Animals, arcane objects, cultural icons, entertainers, historical figures, political leaders, sporting stars, rogues and rebels. But what lurks beneath the surface of these often dark, humourous and arresting renderings? Gerrard draws our attention to the complexities of the image amalgam and the resonant consequences when associated meanings are pile-driven with purpose to the surface of the paper.

Soil and Salt (2017), his most recent exhibition, is comprised of works that cast stoic maidens of yore amid atmospheric and preternatural settings. Who are these women? Where and when are they from? At first glance the works might evoke a sense of nostalgia for an art of the past, inherited photographs, someone once known. Look a little closer: this is no mere wistful jaunt down memory lane. The impression that these works are a revision of Victorian or Edwardian-era portraits soon fades, sharply contrasted in the gnarling, obscured and symbolic nature of the misty settings each haunted phantasm emerges from.

There is something at once alluring and unsettling about these images that somehow attracts and repulses via equivocal means. In Maw (2017) and Pale on Pale (2017) these hidden apparitions coalesce as something more primal and mysterious, forever trapped in a flux of bloom and decay, unfurling out of the dim light between night and day. Hypnos (2017) and Go on, Stay Low (2017) sit avoidant and defiant, each possessed by an earthy essence and ancient power, beckoning the viewer closer in seductive and sinister ways.  

The working title for Soil and Salt was ‘Carrion Flowers,’ referring to a genera of plants, also known as Corpse Flowers, which emit an odour like rotting flesh. While most varieties attract flies and beetles as pollinators, there are some that trap insects to make certain that pollen is gathered and transferred. As direct as this reference may seem, Gerrard arrived at the title via the aesthetic and sonic sensibilities of the track by same name by American musician Chelsea Wolfe. As a musician himself and fan of the heavier genres of rock music, Gerrard subtly draws from the well of associated idiosyncratic album covers, tee shirt graphics and music videos. What flourishes when these influences are married with art historical tropes is a type of Promethean evolution.

If you were to ask where he gets his ideas from Gerrard might quip “an old shop in Pokeno, they do a roaring trade in pigs heads out the front and little-known ideas out the back.” This of course would be a puckish reply for what are undoubtedly innate abilities and involved processes, the likes of which trawl and sprawl the vastness of historic and contemporary paradigms. From artists’ studios, to band rehearsal spaces, to gymnasium locker rooms, to student radio booths, to TAB pubs, to media portrayals, to the internet – grimly beautiful and tragically funny things can be found in dark corners. By combining an acute awareness to the possibilities of the image, other art forms, his interests and experiences, Gerrard flips the familiar and obscure with an enviable assuredness which plays out like a game of hustled heads and tails.

A penny for your thoughts? Or perhaps one for the ferryman on the silent ride over.

Essay by Kenneth Merrick

Drawing from fable, music, cultural history, natural biology and preternatural curiosities, Gerrard creates a world of his own imagining. With a practice almost obsessively focused in illustration, the artist’s mastery of his medium is profound, with a highly recognisable, distinctive style in charcoal on paper.

Gerrard’s use of visual juxtaposition highlights the lyrical absurdity of his imaginings, skeletons playing violins, long haired maidens and bared teeth dogs, interspersed with floral bouquets and violent decay

Floral arrangements hold dark secrets, fabled creatures are contextualised into a modern dialogue, and the repugnant turns sweet. Gerrard is an alchemist, forever transforming commonality into something precious, and sometimes inherently sinister. 

On first inspection we are drawn slowly and enticingly into the image, presented as we are with lyrical illustrations of flowers (Flower Hair, 2015), pug dogs (Wolf Pug, 2014), and beloved celebrities such as Marilyn Monroe (Mazza, 2013). Eventually, we glimpse what lurks beneath, like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A gnarled hand, a very human jawbone, a playful lock of hair ascends through the haze of floral arrangements. The gleeful pug is fact an amalgamation of savage wolves, and Debbie Harry a satanic tusked ogre straight out of Dante’s Inferno. On one hand it is serene splendour; on the other, uneasy trepidation. Like a sculptor of stone, the naked surface of paper holds a quivering potential for Gerrard to unearth the concealed image within it.

Gerrard is a brother Grimm, and like the German myth-makers and authors, he weaves Gothic fables from the contemporary lexicon; his images are known to us before we see them, hiding in plain sight. Through a laborious process of drawing Gerrard breathes pictorial life into our ‘Collective Unconscious’. 

Carl Jung first described the notion of the ‘CollectiveUnconscious’ in his 1916 essay ‘The Structure of the Unconscious’. Jung, a former protégée and colleague of Sigmund Freud, rallied against the popular psychological theories of Freud to develop an idea of an all-encompassing human mythology. Human collective unconscious is populated by symbols such as water, The Tree of Life, The Shadow, The Tower, The Great Mother, etc, thus blanketing all cultures and peoples into one interwoven web of subconscious connectedness. 

Liam Gerrard is a hand that draws upon this universality. Through his painstakingly fashioned drawings he pulls us into a world both of his own creation, and one that we are intimately, subconsciously, familiar with. 

The 2015 work Frankie is an apt illustration of Gerrard’s biting wit and awareness. The viewer is confronted eye-to-eye with an image of Mary Shelley’s infamous monster Frankenstein, framed in a pretty wreath of flowers, and sporting a traditional Maori Ta Moko.  To us Frankenstein is as familiar as The Very Hungry Caterpillar, or Hairy Maclary; an anthropomorphic form calculatingly created to make the un-human increasingly human. The monstrous becomes one of us through the Ta Moko – a profound gesture of scarification, willingly performed and received, to display a weighty empathy and lineage to a history and people.

Although Gerrard’s mark-making is not deliberately violent, often his images are. Hybrids of beauty and gore, adoration and oddity are mainstays in his practice. It’s not the ‘Shock of the New’ he’s interested in; it’s the shock of what has come before, of history. 

Gerrard is a gleaner of culture, and our most primal of visual languages. He makes the increasingly complex somehow comprehendible, and unearths images of profound profanity, beauty, complexity, diversion, and universality. He is at once a myth-maker, a visual archaeologist, and a witty prankster with a penchant for subversion. 

Essay by Andy Gomez

Cover artwork for Gin Wigmore's 2018 album 'Ivory'