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from a teenager serving tea to ‘Miss Amituanai’. I’m
particularly interested in Ioka who, despite appearing
repeatedly in Amituanai’s photography, remains
elusive—unknowable. This is the crux at the centre of
the exhibition: as much as our bodies, our adornment,
the interiors we inhabit might tell, they can only say
so much.
Ioka (2004) and Ioka’s Fa’ial’i (2004) are among
the earliest works in the exhibition. Ioka, which
was published on the cover of Art New Zealand
130, shows Ioka, wearing a bright yellow t-shirt
with ‘Samoa’ in cursive on the chest and hibiscus
printed down the side with a red ‘ie lavalava,
passing through the kitchen with two mugs in her
hands. Her eyes are averted towards the ground
and her face expressionless. The image has been lit
by a flash, throwing shadow behind the brightly
lit young woman. In Ioka’s Fa’ial’i Ioka has moved
to her bedroom, where she sits reclined on the bed
with a pillow over her lap. Her eyes, again, do not
reach the camera; though they are now less diverted
than downcast, glaring. She is angry, frustrated by