JENNIFER HALLI
  • Sculpture
    • Park, 2023
    • Cerulean Latency, 2023
    • Clepsydra, 2022
    • Window I, Window II and Window III, 2020
    • Impossible Shrines, 2019
    • Float | Pōrena, 2019
    • Measuring to a Saint, 2019
    • Clark's Point Cento, 2018/2019
    • SeaWallCento: May 2018
    • With Feet Opposite: March 2018
    • 256: November 2017 - February 2018
  • Printmaking
    • the other side of better Prints, 2021-2024
    • Time Lapsed/Blue Prints 2022-2024
    • Ngāmotu Prints, 2023
    • Kāwhia Prints, NZ, 2020
    • Driving Creek Prints, 2020
    • Watershed Prints, 2019
    • Collagraphs 2017 - 2019
    • Collage + Sculpture, 2015-2016
  • Projects
    • Reta Aroha Ki Te Mounga, Love Letters to the Mounga, 2025
    • Saint Lucia (Lux), 2025
    • Disheartened, 2024
    • Little Free Library, 2024
    • ImMaterial, 2023
    • Watching Grass Grow. 2021/2022
    • MIGHT COULD
  • Ceramics
    • Lamingtons, 2017
    • Restless, 2017
    • The Antipodeans, 2014-2016
    • Pods, Bipods and Tripods, 2011 - 2013
    • Rudnick Trail Mural, 2011/2012
    • Baking Dishes
    • Flasks
    • Plates & Platters
    • Teapots
    • Wood Firing
  • CV
    • Biography
  • Thank You

With Feet Opposite: March 2018​
Collagraph prints on Thai kozo with ink, charcoal, pigment and porcelain


I cannot experience both right and wrong in full clarity as the act of one influences my perception of the other. The moment before and the moment after is revealed in With Feet Opposite installed in Wings Court, New Bedford with the better-to-ask-for- forgiveness-than-permission technique. The title is from the Latin word antipodes, meaning places diametrically opposed to each other (on the globe), or direct opposites. This term is commonly used in New Zealand and Australia when referring to the northern hemisphere. Stretching this metaphor into my work, With Feet Opposite is arranged around a physical barrier – a wall where you cannot see the other side, it lies in the imagination akin to an open window of possibility, I am reminded of Carl Sandburg’s 1916 poem At a Window. 

At a Window
Give me hunger,
O you gods that sit and give

The world its orders.
Give me hunger, pain and want,
Shut me out with shame and failure
From your doors of gold and fame,
Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger!

But leave me a little love,
A voice to speak to me in the day end,
A hand to touch me in the dark room
Breaking the long loneliness.
In the dusk of day-shapes
Blurring the sunset,
One little wandering, western star
Thrust out from the changing shores of shadow. Let me go to the window,
Watch there the day-shapes of dusk
And wait and know the coming
Of a little love.
​

Installed in Wings Court, New Bedford, Massachusetts
  • Sculpture
    • Park, 2023
    • Cerulean Latency, 2023
    • Clepsydra, 2022
    • Window I, Window II and Window III, 2020
    • Impossible Shrines, 2019
    • Float | Pōrena, 2019
    • Measuring to a Saint, 2019
    • Clark's Point Cento, 2018/2019
    • SeaWallCento: May 2018
    • With Feet Opposite: March 2018
    • 256: November 2017 - February 2018
  • Printmaking
    • the other side of better Prints, 2021-2024
    • Time Lapsed/Blue Prints 2022-2024
    • Ngāmotu Prints, 2023
    • Kāwhia Prints, NZ, 2020
    • Driving Creek Prints, 2020
    • Watershed Prints, 2019
    • Collagraphs 2017 - 2019
    • Collage + Sculpture, 2015-2016
  • Projects
    • Reta Aroha Ki Te Mounga, Love Letters to the Mounga, 2025
    • Saint Lucia (Lux), 2025
    • Disheartened, 2024
    • Little Free Library, 2024
    • ImMaterial, 2023
    • Watching Grass Grow. 2021/2022
    • MIGHT COULD
  • Ceramics
    • Lamingtons, 2017
    • Restless, 2017
    • The Antipodeans, 2014-2016
    • Pods, Bipods and Tripods, 2011 - 2013
    • Rudnick Trail Mural, 2011/2012
    • Baking Dishes
    • Flasks
    • Plates & Platters
    • Teapots
    • Wood Firing
  • CV
    • Biography
  • Thank You