
Auckland Museum's extraordinary origin story emerges from the archives
A time capsule is sealed inside the Auckland Museum's glittering foundation stone, at the northwest corner of the building. Photo / Michael Craig
It would be a further four years before the doors opened, but for Pia Gahagan, collection manager for the museum archives (documentary heritage), marking that early milestone was the equivalent of throwing a roof shout.
'When my partner and I built our house, the builders were like, 'You have to put on a roof shout'. I didn't know what that was,' she says.
'Then I thought, 'Yeah, I get it. You know, the roof's up and we're rocking now.' I see the laying of the foundation stone as kind of similar to that. It's really happening, so let's get this thing done.'
For the past two years, Gahagan has been trawling through the archives, gathering material in preparation for the museum's official centenary in 1929.
Items she's uncovered include the original design drawings by Auckland architectural firm Grierson, Aimer and Draffin, and a working set of plans – dirt-stained and scuffed from being handled on the building site.
An Auckland War Memorial and Museum Competition drawing from 1922 by architectural firm Grierson, Aimer and Draffin. Their concept was chosen from the 74 entries, although changes were made to the final design. Photo / Auckland War Memorial Museum Tāmaki Paenga Hira
Minutes from meetings held by the Auckland Provincial War Memorial Fund Committee also provided a rich source of information – the citizens of Auckland provided much of the project's financial backing – and a scrapbook was kept of newspaper articles from the time.
Recognising the significance of the foundation stone, Gahagan dug a little deeper into that side of the story, which began to take on a life of its own.
'Piecing it together, I realised this was quite a significant moment in the museum's history, acknowledging the masses of work that had gone into getting to this point.'
Founded in 1852 in a local farmhouse, the Auckland Museum had rapidly expanded and was bursting at the seams. Thomas Cheeseman, its first professional curator, lobbied for the construction of a new building to 'serve for the recreation, instruction and intellectual advancement of the people of Auckland'.
It was eventually decided to erect a combined museum and war memorial, commemorating those who had lost their lives in World War I.
An international design competition was held, attracting 74 entries from as far afield as the United States, Japan and India. The proposals, responding to a detailed brief, were put on public display in a shed down at the wharf.
Construction work began on Auckland's new museum in 1924 and was completed five years later. Photos / Auckland War Memorial Museum Tāmaki Paenga Hira
Construction of the neoclassical monument that stands on the hilltop today, with its towering Greek Doric columns, began in mid-1924. By then, a public fundraising campaign had reached its target of £200,000, after an initial Government investment of £25,000.
It's almost impossible to imagine what the Auckland Domain (Pukekawa) would have looked like back then. Before construction began on Observatory Hill, the bare grassy slopes were carpeted in daisies, with a clear view across to the University of Auckland, which is now obscured by mature trees.
By 1925, the flattened hilltop was a working construction site with a service road, a huge stoneyard and a collection of workers' sheds. Excavation work required the removal of more than 13,000 cubic tonnes of earth, and 8000 tonnes of concrete were used in the foundations.
A provision of the contract required all the stonework to be done on site, a deliberate strategy to generate employment opportunities for Aucklanders as the post-war boom began to stutter.
'They wanted to make sure it was safeguarded for local people to do that work,' says Gahagan.
'There are some descriptions in the papers about different machinery they had on site, including a machine with diamond teeth that cut the stone. I think a lot of it was quite new and hadn't really been seen or used in New Zealand before.'
From the base of the structure itself, reinforced steel girders rose from a slab of Coromandel granite – 'sufficiently advanced to enable one to realise what a very noble building it would be', according to a newspaper report of the foundation stone ceremony that Gahagan found in the digital archive Papers Past.
The superstructure was later constructed from Portland stone, imported from England after problems with the initial supplier in Australia caused delays.
A pictorial record of the Foundation Stone Ceremony, published in the New Zealand Sporting and Dramatic Review. Photo / Auckland Libraries
A report on the ceremony published in the Auckland Star. Photo / Michael Craig
Black and white photographs taken on the day of the ceremony show Prime Minister Gordon Coates, resplendent in a dress suit and top hat, inspecting a guard of honour formed by cadets.
A dais overlooking the Waitematā Harbour had been erected for the dignitaries, decorated with bunting that ran all the way down to the Robbie Burns statue so the gathering crowds could see where to go.
Among the ephemera Gahagan has collated is a formal invitation to the museum's director, Gilbert Archey, tickets to the ceremony and copies of the official programme.
A wooden gavel and silver trowel, presented to Coates in an ornately carved box, were later gifted to the museum by the Prime Minister's family and are kept on display.
This presentation set, made by A Kohn Ltd, was gifted to Prime Minister Gordon Coates at the foundation stone ceremony and is on display at the museum. Photo / Auckland War Memorial Museum Tāmaki Paenga Hira
Intriguingly, a time capsule was placed into a cavity cut into the foundation stone, sealed inside a bronze casket. Its contents, however, are disappointingly dour: a copy of the Archdeacon's prayer, a list of subscribers to the museum's building fund, a history of Auckland and the daily newspapers.
Auckland Museum's chief executive, David Reeves, has been fascinated by the stories that have emerged from the archives. He sees the foundation stone ceremony as a symbolic moment when the city came of age.
'The fervour around it was part of Auckland's civic pride, that we could build something of this stature. So it was an expression of confidence in ourselves,' he says.
'Thinking back to that era and the enormous grief in the community after World War I, there wouldn't have been a family that wasn't affected in some way, having either lost somebody or having a damaged soldier come back to them.
'The laying of the foundation stone would have been that moment of saying, yes, we're acknowledging that. We're getting on with our lives, but we're not going to forget. So it was literally a concrete way to make a permanent mark that the Great War, as it was then known, would not be forgotten.'
The Anzac Day dawn service at the Cenotaph each year marks the dual role performed by the Auckland War Memorial Museum. Photo / Hayden Woodward
The museum faces a challenging four years before marking its official centenary in 2029. The recent detection of asbestos at the site of previous remediation work in the 80s – and the wider spread of asbestos dust – has led to the indefinite closure of the Te Marae Atea Māori Court and the Pacific galleries.
Two-thirds of the original 1929 building is now open and operating safely, while the northern galleries will need a further eight to 10 weeks of work.
Reopening the Māori and Pacific galleries will take 'much, much longer', says Reeves, because of the complicated process required to dismantle parts of the building and properly address the source of the asbestos. The closure of the museum's most popular drawcard has also led to a significant loss of income after a downturn in tourists.
'Aside from the asbestos, we've got some urgent building upgrade needs in that 1929 part of the building. The air conditioning system is on its last legs. We're redoing the lighting so it's energy efficient and in the right place, and trunking fibre optics through.
'Our curatorial team are also looking at what we will do to refresh all of those narratives and displays. The interpretation and the overall thread of it is getting up to 30 years old.'
A budget shortfall means fundraising will be required for the upgrade, an issue the trust board will consider when it meets in December.
However, Reeves says the museum's programme of touring exhibitions is intact through to 2028. Diva, its current blockbuster from the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, opened this month and runs through to October.
Joanna Wane is an award-winning senior lifestyle writer with a special interest in social issues and the arts.
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Newsroom
5 days ago
- Newsroom
Millions at risk as museum's Māori treasures off-limits
Auckland Museum's famed Māori court could be closed through 2026 amid complex efforts to remove asbestos dust, with millions lost in revenues from overseas tourists. The museum was totally closed for 24 days in May after the asbestos risk was identified, and has reopened but with the Māori hall and many other popular exhibition areas, including the Hall of Memories, NZ at War and volcanoes zones, remaining off limits. The Māori taonga held by the museum are its biggest visitor attractions and, despite halving international visitor entrance fees, the institution is seeing tourists declining to enter when the closure is made known. Exhibits in the hall are covered, a centrepiece woven sail for a waka which is believed to be one of a kind has already been removed and will be returned to the British Museum, and the entrance lobby resembles an industrial site, requiring PPE gear to enter. Other galleries at the northern end of the museum on three floors are also being checked and cleared, and are due to reopen in October. Museum chief executive David Reeves briefed Auckland councillors on Thursday, saying the problem asbestos was dust left in the curved ceilings after previous remedial work in the late1980s-early 1990s but it was near vents and could be disturbed by fans, for example, during fire alarms. The dust was in extraordinarily difficult spaces because of the ceilings' arched shape and the value of taonga items beneath them, and most likely would have to be accessed by removing ceiling panels over the next year. The museum ceilings hold asbestos dust left there during a previous remedial project in the 1980s/90s. Photo: Auckland Museum 'The risk must be dealt with. Once you know about it you can't just look the other way.' He said 2000 air tests had been completed since the problem was discovered in May and none had shown risk to staff, volunteers or visitors in the areas now open. While the May closure for 24 days, costing half a million dollars, had been well publicised, the partial reopening had not been quite as well known. 'We are also seeing a degree of hesitation from the public to return. 'We've built into this year's revised budget a $2m drop in tourism income because of the loss of the Māori court availability. We are offering international tourists half price because the value is simply not there. 'When we briefly had it at full price the pushback was so enormous, we took the option of half price. Even then, we are seeing tourists turn away, which is sad. 'It's a serious dent in our revenue.' The Māori court was full of priceless taonga, Reeves said. 'We need to decant the gallery, we need to get in there and seal and remove all the asbestos.' That would take 'at least a year to be dealt with' and then the museum would need to decide whether to take the opportunity of 'a complete rejuvenation of the galleries' for its centenary in 2029. The museum was looking at making an insurance claim to offset some of its lost revenues and costs. Floor plans showing the areas in light red that remain closed due to the asbestos risk. In the meantime, executives were planning ways to make additional Māori and Pasifika content available in other parts of the facility to meet the strong demand and 'to bring back some of the attraction of the museum. I don't think we will get back to normal.' The museum's financial challenges prompted the Mayor, Wayne Brown, to urge its board to slap a $5 entry fee across the board. 'You've got nearly a million visitors. $5 a head is $5m. Ninety-nine percent of [visitors] love you and you might only drop to 95 percent. A lot of ratepayers will love you too.' Brown said the council was the biggest funder of the museum by a long way. 'Is it time you put $5 on everybody going in? I find it unbelievable you are so hesitant to do what's screamingly obvious. I just want you to open your minds. 'Things that are free are over-subscribed and under-appreciated. That's just a rule of the world.' Later in the briefing, Reeves told a councillor, Lotu Fuli, that the board had several times looked at a charging regime, benchmarking against Australian museums, but concluded there would be a 'fairly significant reduction in local visitors to the museum.' That would impact revenues raised in the museum café and carparking. 'Our net outcome is better … free at door for Aucklanders, paid entry for overseas tourists and inviting non-Auckland New Zealanders to make a donation. We do believe that we've got the mix about right.' There is one bright spot for Auckland Museum. Last year it was surprised to learn of a $7.6m bequest that was the result of a brother and sister's will 10 years ago. They had wanted their money to first cover other commitments and the balance then to go to the museum. Reeves: 'It was a very good day at work. We were unaware of it until about a year ago, and it's for the future development of the museum.' An endowment fund had been created. 'We hope to use it for positive development of the museum, rather than run-of-the-mill.' That meant it would not be used to cover the asbestos remedial works. 'We think it sends a really good signal for those who might be considering an endowment fund that would be used for developmental work.' One councillor wondered if an option for seeking financial help for the asbestos project would be to include the museum's needs in the proposed Auckland City Deal with central government. The deal proposal did not cater for such spending. But Deputy Mayor Desley Simpson, who leads a group overseeing the city's cultural facilities, said there had been discussions with the Arts and Culture Minister Paul Goldsmith about 'the role of the Government and the museum' and cultural institutions. The meeting heard Te Papa in Wellington received central government funding but Auckland relied on ratepayers and its own income. Councillor Wayne Walker said that was inequitable, as Auckland had more visitors, local and international, than Te Papa. Auckland Council provided $34m, commercial operations about $4.5m and entrance fees $3.2m of the museum's annual revenue in 2024/25.


NZ Herald
25-07-2025
- NZ Herald
Auckland Museum's extraordinary origin story emerges from the archives
Next week marks the centenary of a public ceremony held at the museum's construction site on August 1, 1925, to mark the laying of its foundation stone. The polished block of blue pearl granite sits on the northeast corner of the building, with flecks of crystal that still sparkle when they catch the sun. A time capsule is sealed inside the Auckland Museum's glittering foundation stone, at the northwest corner of the building. Photo / Michael Craig It would be a further four years before the doors opened, but for Pia Gahagan, collection manager for the museum archives (documentary heritage), marking that early milestone was the equivalent of throwing a roof shout. 'When my partner and I built our house, the builders were like, 'You have to put on a roof shout'. I didn't know what that was,' she says. 'Then I thought, 'Yeah, I get it. You know, the roof's up and we're rocking now.' I see the laying of the foundation stone as kind of similar to that. It's really happening, so let's get this thing done.' For the past two years, Gahagan has been trawling through the archives, gathering material in preparation for the museum's official centenary in 1929. Items she's uncovered include the original design drawings by Auckland architectural firm Grierson, Aimer and Draffin, and a working set of plans – dirt-stained and scuffed from being handled on the building site. An Auckland War Memorial and Museum Competition drawing from 1922 by architectural firm Grierson, Aimer and Draffin. Their concept was chosen from the 74 entries, although changes were made to the final design. Photo / Auckland War Memorial Museum Tāmaki Paenga Hira Minutes from meetings held by the Auckland Provincial War Memorial Fund Committee also provided a rich source of information – the citizens of Auckland provided much of the project's financial backing – and a scrapbook was kept of newspaper articles from the time. Recognising the significance of the foundation stone, Gahagan dug a little deeper into that side of the story, which began to take on a life of its own. 'Piecing it together, I realised this was quite a significant moment in the museum's history, acknowledging the masses of work that had gone into getting to this point.' Founded in 1852 in a local farmhouse, the Auckland Museum had rapidly expanded and was bursting at the seams. Thomas Cheeseman, its first professional curator, lobbied for the construction of a new building to 'serve for the recreation, instruction and intellectual advancement of the people of Auckland'. It was eventually decided to erect a combined museum and war memorial, commemorating those who had lost their lives in World War I. An international design competition was held, attracting 74 entries from as far afield as the United States, Japan and India. The proposals, responding to a detailed brief, were put on public display in a shed down at the wharf. Construction work began on Auckland's new museum in 1924 and was completed five years later. Photos / Auckland War Memorial Museum Tāmaki Paenga Hira Construction of the neoclassical monument that stands on the hilltop today, with its towering Greek Doric columns, began in mid-1924. By then, a public fundraising campaign had reached its target of £200,000, after an initial Government investment of £25,000. It's almost impossible to imagine what the Auckland Domain (Pukekawa) would have looked like back then. Before construction began on Observatory Hill, the bare grassy slopes were carpeted in daisies, with a clear view across to the University of Auckland, which is now obscured by mature trees. By 1925, the flattened hilltop was a working construction site with a service road, a huge stoneyard and a collection of workers' sheds. Excavation work required the removal of more than 13,000 cubic tonnes of earth, and 8000 tonnes of concrete were used in the foundations. A provision of the contract required all the stonework to be done on site, a deliberate strategy to generate employment opportunities for Aucklanders as the post-war boom began to stutter. 'They wanted to make sure it was safeguarded for local people to do that work,' says Gahagan. 'There are some descriptions in the papers about different machinery they had on site, including a machine with diamond teeth that cut the stone. I think a lot of it was quite new and hadn't really been seen or used in New Zealand before.' From the base of the structure itself, reinforced steel girders rose from a slab of Coromandel granite – 'sufficiently advanced to enable one to realise what a very noble building it would be', according to a newspaper report of the foundation stone ceremony that Gahagan found in the digital archive Papers Past. The superstructure was later constructed from Portland stone, imported from England after problems with the initial supplier in Australia caused delays. A pictorial record of the Foundation Stone Ceremony, published in the New Zealand Sporting and Dramatic Review. Photo / Auckland Libraries A report on the ceremony published in the Auckland Star. Photo / Michael Craig Black and white photographs taken on the day of the ceremony show Prime Minister Gordon Coates, resplendent in a dress suit and top hat, inspecting a guard of honour formed by cadets. A dais overlooking the Waitematā Harbour had been erected for the dignitaries, decorated with bunting that ran all the way down to the Robbie Burns statue so the gathering crowds could see where to go. Among the ephemera Gahagan has collated is a formal invitation to the museum's director, Gilbert Archey, tickets to the ceremony and copies of the official programme. A wooden gavel and silver trowel, presented to Coates in an ornately carved box, were later gifted to the museum by the Prime Minister's family and are kept on display. This presentation set, made by A Kohn Ltd, was gifted to Prime Minister Gordon Coates at the foundation stone ceremony and is on display at the museum. Photo / Auckland War Memorial Museum Tāmaki Paenga Hira Intriguingly, a time capsule was placed into a cavity cut into the foundation stone, sealed inside a bronze casket. Its contents, however, are disappointingly dour: a copy of the Archdeacon's prayer, a list of subscribers to the museum's building fund, a history of Auckland and the daily newspapers. Auckland Museum's chief executive, David Reeves, has been fascinated by the stories that have emerged from the archives. He sees the foundation stone ceremony as a symbolic moment when the city came of age. 'The fervour around it was part of Auckland's civic pride, that we could build something of this stature. So it was an expression of confidence in ourselves,' he says. 'Thinking back to that era and the enormous grief in the community after World War I, there wouldn't have been a family that wasn't affected in some way, having either lost somebody or having a damaged soldier come back to them. 'The laying of the foundation stone would have been that moment of saying, yes, we're acknowledging that. We're getting on with our lives, but we're not going to forget. So it was literally a concrete way to make a permanent mark that the Great War, as it was then known, would not be forgotten.' The Anzac Day dawn service at the Cenotaph each year marks the dual role performed by the Auckland War Memorial Museum. Photo / Hayden Woodward The museum faces a challenging four years before marking its official centenary in 2029. The recent detection of asbestos at the site of previous remediation work in the 80s – and the wider spread of asbestos dust – has led to the indefinite closure of the Te Marae Atea Māori Court and the Pacific galleries. Two-thirds of the original 1929 building is now open and operating safely, while the northern galleries will need a further eight to 10 weeks of work. Reopening the Māori and Pacific galleries will take 'much, much longer', says Reeves, because of the complicated process required to dismantle parts of the building and properly address the source of the asbestos. The closure of the museum's most popular drawcard has also led to a significant loss of income after a downturn in tourists. 'Aside from the asbestos, we've got some urgent building upgrade needs in that 1929 part of the building. The air conditioning system is on its last legs. We're redoing the lighting so it's energy efficient and in the right place, and trunking fibre optics through. 'Our curatorial team are also looking at what we will do to refresh all of those narratives and displays. The interpretation and the overall thread of it is getting up to 30 years old.' A budget shortfall means fundraising will be required for the upgrade, an issue the trust board will consider when it meets in December. However, Reeves says the museum's programme of touring exhibitions is intact through to 2028. Diva, its current blockbuster from the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, opened this month and runs through to October. Joanna Wane is an award-winning senior lifestyle writer with a special interest in social issues and the arts.


NZ Herald
25-07-2025
- NZ Herald
Greer Twiss the ‘Godfather' of contemporary New Zealand sculpture: Laura Vodanovich
In a way I grew up with Twiss, with his work Karangahape Rocks, 1967-69, strongly influencing my young sense of art in public spaces - it was a work that arrested my attention and I would stop and ponder it often. Sculptor Greer Twiss died earlier this month. Photo / Greg Bowker While I was working at Auckland Museum, a project initiated by Outdoor Sculpture 2001, and supported by the Edmiston Trust, installed sculptures throughout the Auckland Domain. Marquette's of these sculptures, including Twiss's work among other significant names in the artworld, were displayed at Auckland Museum in 2004. Some magnificent and striking sculptures were created as part of this initiative, but it was Twiss' work Grafting, that was my very favourite. Grafting is a series of 10 sculptures in the fernery, part of the Wintergardens in the Auckland Domain. These works include nine native birds and a pear tree, each complete with a label typical of those used on specimens you might find in a museum. The individual labels include the Latin, te reo Māori and English 'common' name for each bird, but for the tree just the word pear along with Twiss's signature. Woven through this work you can detect his interest in the colonial period through his use of three forms of classification identifying each native bird. For the pear tree, introduced to Aotearoa by missionary Samuel Marsden, Twiss dispenses with the three names and strips this specimen to just the one common name, pear. His exploration of the colonial period and the 'dialogue between the natural situation and the imposed brought into the situation' has seen him create a number of works on this theme. In 2020 his agent, Jane Sanders, reached out to us to say Twiss would like to offer a work to the Hawke's Bay Museums Trust Tai Ahuriri collection and we were delighted to accept his generous offer. The work, Hobson's Baggage, 1995, is another sculpture exploring the colonial theme. Toni MacKinnon, art curator at the time, wrote that 'Greer Twiss' sculpture brings objects together in unexpected ways… Queen Victoria is loaded into an old suitcase, there is a flag that has no way of fitting into the case, and a watering can! And what is the little lamp about?' Twiss of course made sense of this, pondering what Hobson might have bought in his luggage including, possibly, a bust of Queen Victoria. In his eyes the items all represent something including authority, cultivation and the law. It is a wonderful work to have in our collection and another way in which Twiss has positively influenced my personal relationship with artworks in Aotearoa.