Against the Tide
A trio of bulky men stand with their backs facing us. They watch and wait. Billowing black waders act as anchors as water swirls precariously above knee-height. Each figure leans forward, their disproportionately small heads accentuating scale, physicality and strength. Visible across the lagoon on the opposite bank are seven other fishermen, one gang of three and another group of four, like small insects in military-like clusters. The dense, gun-metal-grey foreshore rises like a wall to the picture plane. Curving forms—beach, rods, waders, surf, clouds—coalesce. The slightly awkward stance of the man on the left, in partial profile, is notably featureless. The composition radiates outwards from the large central figure—is he the archetypical fisherman?
Trevor Moffitt was passionate about salmon fishing, and this series, like those that preceded and followed, reflects a mix of first-hand experience, astute observation, imagination, recollection, and an ongoing desire to paint New Zealanders and figures from folklore. ‘It’s like a medieval tournament’, Moffitt explained to Gregory O’Brien in 1996. ‘I had to paint them chiefly from memory—fishermen are a tough lot and if you sat down and started drawing them they wouldn’t Something relatable, universal, is acknowledged in all Moffitt’s narratives—a prolific painter recording humanity, domesticity, family relationships, the underdog, and legendary folklore characters. In his drive to remove unnecessary detail, Moffitt’s expressive, blunt approach became his signature style that resonates across societal boundaries.
