While some scholarship on refugee youth has focussed on leaving a place that is typically considered ‘home,’ there has been little attention to what ‘home’ means to them and how this is negotiated in the country of (re)settlement. This is particularly the case for girls and women. New Zealand research on refugee settlement has largely focussed on the economic integration of refugees. Although this research is essential, it runs the risk of overlooking the socio-cultural aspects of the resettlement experiences and renders partial our understanding of how particular generations and ethnic groups develop a sense of belonging to their adopted homeland. In order to address these research gaps, this thesis explores the experiences of 12 Afghan women, aged 19-29 years, of refugee background who relocated to Christchurch, New Zealand, during their childhood and early teenage years. This study employed semi-structured, one-to-one, in-depth interviews and photo-elicitation to encourage talk about participants’ experiences of leaving Afghanistan, often living in countries of protracted displacement (Iran and/or Pakistan) and making- and being-at-home in New Zealand. In this thesis, I explore the ways in which they frame Afghanistan, and the ways in which their experiences in Iran and Pakistan disrupt the dichotomisation of belonging in terms of ‘here’ (ancestral land) and ‘there’ (country of residence). Furthermore, I use affect theorising to analyse the participants’ expressions of resettlement and home in New Zealand. Feeling at home is as much about negotiating cultural and gendered identities in Western secular societies as it is about belonging to a particular community. Through their experiences of ‘living in two worlds’, the participants are able to strategically challenge cultural expectations without undermining their reputations as Muslims and as Afghan women. The participants discussed their emotional responses to double-displacement: one as a result of war and the other as a result of 2011 Canterbury earthquakes. Therefore, I suggest that for young Afghan women, Afghanistan was among several markers of home in a long embodied journey of (re)settlement.
Architecture and music have a long intertwining history.These respective creative forces many times have collaborated into monumental place, harboured rich occasion, been catalyst for cultural movement and defined generations. Together they transcend their respective identities. From dinky local church to monstrous national stadia, together they are an intense concentration, a powerfully addictive dosage where architecture is the place, music is the faith, and people are the reason. Music is a programme that architecture often celebrates in poetic and grand fashion; a superficial excuse to symbolise their creative parallels. But their relationship is much richer and holds more value than just the opportunity to attempt architectural metaphor.While music will always overshadow the architecture in the sense of a singular event, architecture is like the soundman behind the mixing desk. It’s not the star front and centre grabbing your attention, but is responsible for framing the star. It is the foundational backdrop, a critical pillar. Great architecture can help make great music. In this sense music is a communication of architecture, it is the ultimate creative function. Christchurch, New Zealand, is a city whose story changed in an instant. The seismic events of 2010 and 2011 have become the overriding subject of its historical narrative, as it will be for years to come. Disaster redefines place (the town of Napier, struck by an earthquake in 1931, exemplifies this). There is no quantifiable justification for an exploration of architecture and music within the context of Christchurch. The Town Hall, one of New Zealand’s most architecturally significant buildings, is under repair. The Christ Church Cathedral will more than likely be rebuilt to some degree of its former self. But these are echoes of the city that Christchurch was.They are saved because they are artefact. Evidence of history.This thesis makes the argument for the new, the better than before, and for the making of opportunity from disaster, by proposing a ‘new’ town hall, conceived from the sound of old.
This is an ethnographic case study, tracking the course of arguments about the future of a city’s central iconic building, damaged following a major earthquake sequence. The thesis plots this as a social drama and examines the central discourses of the controversy. The focus of the drama is the Anglican neo-Gothic Christ Church Cathedral, which stands in the central square of Christchurch, New Zealand. A series of major earthquakes in 2010/2011 devastated much of the inner city, destroying many heritage-listed buildings. The Cathedral was severely damaged and was declared by Government officials in 2011 to be a dangerous building, which needed to be demolished. The owners are the Church Property Trustees, chaired by Bishop Victoria Matthews, a Canadian appointed in 2008. In March 2012 Matthews announced that the Cathedral, because of safety and economic factors, would be deconstructed. Important artefacts were to be salvaged and a new Cathedral built, incorporating the old and new. This decision provoked a major controversy, led by those who claimed that the building could and should be restored. Discourses of history and heritage, memory, place and identity, ownership, economics and power are all identified, along with the various actors, because of their significance. However, the thesis is primarily concerned with the differing meanings given to the Cathedral. The major argument centres on the symbolic interaction between material objects and human subjects and the various ways these are interpreted. At the end of the research period, December 2015, the Christ Church Cathedral stands as a deteriorating wreck, inhabited by pigeons and rats and shielded by protective, colourfully decorated wooden fences. The decision about its future remains unresolved at the time of writing.
