Mike Crawford’s outstanding cast glass works are stunningly beautiful, technically remarkable and culturally significant. Like Hammond, Binney and Dibble before him, Crawford uses the bird as a multi-layered symbol, a physical and metaphorical vessel, inextricably linked to New Zealand identity. Crawford’s birds however, are not encapsulations of the New Zealand ideal, they are harbingers - time-capsules connecting the past to the present and the individual to a collective history.

The physical presence of the majestic Toroa (Pukekura) (Royal Albatross) is monumental. This manu tāiko (sentry bird) stands tall, a symbol of strength and resilience, a kaitiaki guardian of the land, sea and sky. An embodiment of freedom, resilience, and a deep connection to the land, like New Zealanders, these values are part of its DNA. However, being stewards of the land comes with responsibility and accountability. Crawford exposes the myth – he challenges us to see that what we hold so dearly as a symbol of who we are is fragile, like glass. Huia (Clear/Red) is a clear warning. A memorial of what we have lost and a reminder of what we need to protect. The ghostly clear head looking towards a potentially cloudy future. Its blood-red body is illuminated by light, revealing a warm heart-shaped cavity, glowing as if shining its life-force.

Echoing the shape of urns, gourds, but also Egyptian canopic jars, which were believed to contain the viscera of the soul, Crawford’s birds are waka huia. They are “treasure boxes”, embodying our connection to the physical world, the spiritual realm, and each other – our culture and collective past. Concertinaed grooves of Kumete (Emerald) and Kumete (Yellow/Orange) express the rhythmic carving marks of a waka huia. The beaked waka shaped vessels challenge us to treasure the values, knowledge and lessons of the past while moving forwards. "He waka huia, he manu rererangi."

When so masterly resolved, it is easy to overlook sculptural conventions such as balance, tension, shape, and mass. Light travels through the various thicknesses of glass, exposing the subtle shape of feathers, the arch of a beak, the variation of colour we see in luminescent wings or the cavity within a self-contained form. Hihi (Black/Yellow) is perfectly balanced as if perched after flight. The lid or “head” of Mohua (Yellow/Green) sits seamlessly almost as if fused together. The subtle use of the koru motif at the neck of Tūī (Blue/Black) demonstrates restraint and sophistication.

Continually pushing the boundaries o f the casting process, Mike Crawford’s technical precision, sculptural sensibility and conceptual rigour firmly establish him as the most important contemporary glass New Zealand artist of our time.