Tidal sculpture for Milnthorpe Park
Installed in the bedrock of an inner arm of Milnthorpe Estuary, the 1.6m-high Chain-o-pod was designed to create an everchanging play of shadows and reflections on the changing tide. Photo: Gerard Hindmarsh.
A little-seen part of tidal Milnthorpe has been opened up with the completion of The Esplanade Extension track.
It follows one of the snaking arms of the inner estuary that run inland from the stone bridge and car park at the end of Kendall Street. Today it has two new bench seats and its own steel sculpture, donated by steelsmith Duncan Leask of Nelson.
The 1.6-metre-high installation, called “Chain-o-pod”, is made out of deep-sea fishing-net chains welded together in the shape of an elliptical pod. It is secured by concrete into the bedrock of the upper estuary.
Explaining his design, Duncan says the curved chains have been arranged to cast shadows and reflections in the tide as it rises and falls around it.
“Rather than a static piece to look at, it offers a different experience every time you look at it, depending on the water around it. For me, you couldn’t get a better place to exhibit a piece like this. It’s a wonderful opportunity.”
Chain-o-pod was installed the weekend before last by locals Graeme Clement and Paul De Jager. It’s actually a smaller version of a previous sculpture (3.5m high) of Duncan’s. His work now features around Nelson in places such as Lochmara Lodge and Nelson Girls College. In this case he responded to an invitation by his friend Graeme Clement to contribute a piece for Milnthorpe Park.
The new extension track was accomplished in two stages. The first part, The Esplanade, which leads from the stone bridge car park to just past the bridge which crosses the charming creek that flows into the inlet, was cut over six months last year, with a trackworker working just one day a week. The biggest job was clearing all the gorse down to the waterline so as to open up a progression of views for the track user. In some places, the understory litter on the trail is so thick it offers a surprisingly spongy experience. The just-completed second half of the track connects the stone bridge car park all the way around to the Old Road. From there it’s only a short hop down to the main beach.
Walkers in this general area of coastal Milnthorpe will already be well acquainted with the sculptures that have sprouted through this part of the park since the first Sculpture Symposium, held there in 2004. Crazy carved heads by Neil Baker can still be found adorning tree trunks, while Graeme Clement contributed the hanging rings (made out of the pith of a cabbage tree trunk) that can be seen along The Esplanade. Until now locally gathered materials have largely been the criteria for these installations; however, many have not stood the test of time well.
Initially, this 180-hectare block of coastal land was referred to as the Milnthorpe Revegetation Project (started by Dick Nicholls in the mid-1970s), and it wasn’t until 1999 that it achieved Scenic Reserve status and became Milnthorpe Park. That move was instigated three years earlier, by then Tasman Mayor Kerry Marshall, as the best long-term regional solution to a community asset that never quite fitted into any conservation estate classification.
Instead of being administered by DOC, the property is now run as an incorporated society, with many members of the community volunteering their labour and skills to make it the place it is today. Donations have played a major part in the park’s development, with areas such as Baas Strait, Elise’s Way, Joe’s Bush, Matthew’s Walk and Brown’s Bush all established in arrangements with donors.
Other people remembered in the park include Sculpture Symposium instigator Merrin Westerink (with an Oamaru stone carving near the main entry car park), and a fine handcrafted seat along the beach for Gavin Cederman, who also participated in early symposiums there. Others too have also left their artistic, indeed commentary, mark. Mountain man John Mitchell cut out several tracks in this park. Along his Mitch’s Loop you’ll find a classy miniature curved bridge where you can still make out his inscription routered thereupon, actually an excerpt from Percy Bysshe Shelley’s sonnet Ozymandias:
“Look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Gerard Hindmarsh
