"Crown-Land-Crown", David McLeod (Castle St, University campus)
The University of Otago and Otago Polytechnic are home to a large number of modern sculptures, yet those of the public who have little direct contact with these institutions rarely visit the area and so often, sadly, overlook these works.
At the northern entrance to the university campus are two contrasting modern works.
Phillipa Watson's bright red Bud is arguably the more prominent, but the enigmatic layers of David McLeod's Crown-Land-Crown are perhaps more compelling.
Ostensibly it is an attractive work, albeit one which requires several viewings to fully appreciate, but there are political depths to the piece.
The 1995 work consists of four tilted slabs of marble, each topped with a fence or battlement of bronze.
Together, the fences form the quadrants of a crown surmounting a model island sundered by a cross which it is tempting to read as the English flag.
Yet the bronzes also bear a striking resemblance to models of traditional cliff-top pa sites, each claiming its own small piece of a divided land.
If the potential political messages were circumstantial or imagined, doubt was removed by a piece of serendipity, when the work was graffitied with the words "Yours, mine, ours, their" - a message which the artist found appropriate enough to permanently incorporate into the work.
"Skyweave", Andrew Dalbeth (Union St, Polytechnic campus)
Another intriguing 1995 sculpture is located several hundred metres away, suspended above two buildings at Otago Polytechnic.
Clearly visible from Union St, Skyweave, by Andrew Dalbeth, is a large work in blackened aluminium and acrylic mirror, which was commissioned for the 125th anniversary of the School of Art.
The work makes clever use of the oldest magic trick in the book, creating an effective illusion through its use of mirrors.
Holes in the aluminium present a clear view of the sky behind the panel; the mirrors reflect a similar area of sky in front of it.
Together the holes and mirrors form the clear pattern of the warp and weft of fabric.
The subtle difference in lighting between the directly viewed and reflected skies creates the impression of blue (or white or grey, depending on the weather) strands intermingling to form the skyweave of the sculpture's title.
The work is surprisingly simple, yet - under the right conditions - astonishingly effective.
It also effectively acknowledges the weaving traditions which are at the heart of so many arts and crafts in both Maori and Scottish tradition, thereby forming an allegorical weave of the two strong cultural lines from which much of Dunedin's culture originates.
"Toroa", Peter Nicholls (Customhouse Quay, harbour basin)
Although Peter Nicholls is well-represented on the university campus by his work Bridge, his 1989 harbourside work Toroa is perhaps more impressive.
Built, as is Bridge, from the artist's trademark weighty blocks of blackened macrocarpa, it towers above Customhouse Quay, forming two leviathan wings.
The work produces an exhilarating paradox, with its duality of the lightness of feather and flight and the sheer mass of the material used.
It brings to mind - as is the intent - the sheer power of bird wings, particularly those of that large avian flyer, the albatross.
Aesthetically it hits the mark as well, forming an attractive muscular form at the water's edge.
Toroa also fixes that symbol of Dunedin's wildlife firmly into the heart of the city, and confers on Dunedin the symbolic power associated with the bird.
To the Maori, the albatross is a traditional symbol of beauty and strength, and its feathers were worn by those of high rank and used to decorate the prow of waka.
To European seafarers, being followed by an albatross has long been a symbol of good fortune, and killing one was seen as bad luck.
The sculpture can thus be seen to confer its good luck, strength, and beauty on the prow of our city.
