In Blade Runner 2049, there is a scene where the protagonist takes a small wooden figurine to a vendor in a bustling marketplace. The vendor carefully examines it, using a machine to analyse its material structure in a manner reminiscent of how one might test a diamond. In the background, the sounds of voices and commotion from the street add to the atmosphere. After a tense moment, the vendor excitedly confirms that, yes, this figurine is extremely valuable—because it is made of real wood.  

.........

The BladeRunner films are set in a dystopian future where Earth’s ecosystem has collapsed, and resources that were once plentiful have become scarce. There’s a sadness about the state this society has found itself in. At the same time, there is something intoxicating and beautiful about the hum of humans and machines that have overtaken the natural world.

Science fiction might seem a strange counterpoint for discussing the practice of a photographer like John Johns (1921–1999), but there is a thread to pull here.Johns was born in England and, once he’d returned from serving in the Royal AirForce during WWII, he joined the British Forestry Commission. In 1951, he immigrated to Aotearoa, where he joined the New Zealand Forest Service, initially working as a forestry worker. Thanks to his knowledge of forest management and expertise in photography, he later became the Forest Service’s first official photographer.  

Later in life, Johns travelled to the United States twice to attend workshops with Ansel Adams, but apart from this, he was largely self-taught. His role in the Forest Service saw his work become widely published and gave him opportunities that were out of reach for most working photographers of his time. For instance, he formed a relationship with New Zealand Aerial Mapping Ltd., which led to him—along with instrument maker Geoffrey Hunter—being involved in the construction of an aerial camera, designed specifically for oblique aerial shots. This was the camera he used to make some of his most well-known images.

Johns’ soulful meditations on place and memory paved the way for descendants likeLawrence Aberhart and Mark Adams, and his use of shape and repetition was a precursor to some of Peter Peryer’s most iconic works. However, to the general public outside of the photographic community, his name is less well known than many of those who followed him. Along with Frank Hoffman, who emigrated to NewZealand from Europe, Johns is one of our most important modernist photographers. He was a technical virtuoso with a camera and in the darkroom, and there is something decidedly "form follows function" about the way he made images. Johns’ photos are documentation first and foremost; however, they are also explorations of line, rhythm, and balance.  

Johns was a passionate environmentalist, and his photographs advocate for natural environments that need protection. At the same time, they also record the human relationship with the natural world in Aotearoa. Whether it is the fact that some photographs were taken from an aeroplane far above or that others feature rows of planted trees receding into the horizon, they speak to the delicate and precarious balance of sustainable living. That’s the interesting thing about his images: this tension is always there, always felt, even if it’s not pictured. A Johns image may depict a serene forest, but the whir of human progress is never far away.  

This exhibition comprises photographs printed by Johns himself, which have been held in his family’s collection and have not been publicly displayed before. It features large prints of some of his most well-known images, as well as rarer, lesser-known works.  

An evening preview for the exhibition will be held on Friday, 14 February, from 6–8pm.  

‍