The Sculpture Park at Waitakaruru Arboretum
The Sculpture Park at Waitakaruru Arboretum
“One of the most important things here is people are encouraged to get engaged in thinking about their own creativity”
The Sculpture Park at Waitakaruru Arboretum is a place that asks something of you the moment you arrive. It invites you to slow down, to look more closely at your surroundings, and to explore a landscape where nature and art are not separate experiences but intimately connected. Here, sculptures are carefully arranged to meet the shape of the land, treelines influence the way you move through the space, and the simple act of walking can often become something restorative. It’s good for the mind, body, and soul.
At the heart of all of this are founders Dorothy and John Wakeling, whose brave vision over three decades ago turned environmental concern into tangible action. What began as a response to climate change and land degradation has grown into a space that invites visitors not only to observe but to reflect, and create.
“We’ve known about climate change for more than 30 years and we definitely were keen to plant lots of trees as a way of combating that change,” says Dorothy. Her role, like John’s, has evolved over the past year but remains deeply embedded in the park’s ongoing development.
John frames the park origins in similarly urgent terms. “I was primarily worried about deforestation, which is all connected with climate change and global warming, so it was an environmental project.”
The couple’s search for land led them, somewhat unexpectedly, to a derelict quarry. “The choice was largely accidental,” John recalls. “We spent a lot of time looking for 10-acre blocks and when we found this place we thought, this is amazing.”
Visitors to the arboretum sometimes struggle to explain exactly what happens to them in this space, yet they recognise its effect immediately. As Dorothy observes, “Oftentimes people can’t articulate to themselves what it is that pleases them.” What they do know is that something shifts. “People come in here who may not enter a museum or art gallery otherwise… they come for other reasons, well-being being one of them.”
This openness is central to the park’s identity. It is a place where art is encountered through movement and personal response. Sculptures are not isolated objects; they are part of a living environment. As John explains, “Within the planting is a huge diversity of trees, and shrubs, and shapes… and within that, there’s lots of space where carefully chosen sculptures can be installed to enhance both the sculpture and the local area around it.”
The effect is subtle but powerful. Each artwork becomes part of a larger composition, shaped by light, season, and perspective. “We’ve always taken great care to how we install sculptures,” John adds. “Sometimes there are quite major alterations right at the last minute.” The goal is not simply to display art, but to create relationships between object and environment, and between the artwork and the person encountering it.
What sets the Sculpture Park apart is not just what is placed within it, but what it allows to happen. Visitors are participants in an unfolding creative experience.
“One of the most important things here is people are encouraged to get engaged in thinking about their own creativity,” Dorothy explains.
“We come across little creations that have been made spontaneously by people. That, to me, is a really, really important contribution.”
This idea that creativity is something everyone can access is echoed throughout the park’s programmes and philosophy. There is no expectation of expertise or mastery. Instead, there is space to explore, question, and respond.
For John, this connection between environment and imagination is deeply intuitive. “The landscape left behind by the quarrymen was so dramatic so that was a good start,” he says. “That’s enhanced or softened by the planting.” The result is an environment where natural forms and artistic interventions coexist.
Even the planting philosophy reflects this approach. “We haven’t forced plants into unusual shapes,” John notes. “Trees have been allowed to grow in a natural way.” Dorothy adds, “Landscape has been important to us, choosing where rocks and trees are placed. To me, landscape is also an art.”
For Antoinette van der Weerden, the park’s manager, the power of the space lies in its sensory and emotional depth. With a background in horticulture, landscape design, and education, she sees the park as a fully immersive experience.
“All of that stuff is so visceral,” she says, describing the dynamics of the environment. “It’s almost like your spirit is engaged more fully with outdoor spaces.”
For Antoinette, art, nature, and education are inseparable. “They’re so close. I can’t separate them,” she explains. “Education’s really about expanding the mind and giving you a wider understanding of the context that you’re working in.”
Her goal is to share that experience with as many people as possible. “I want more people to come… I want them to feel these things that I feel.” And increasingly, they do. “People come back down to the kiosk and they go, ‘Oh my God, this is so amazing.’ There’s such a lot of different spaces and it’s really relaxing, there’s just a great sense of well-being.”
Even in quiet moments, the park reveals itself. “On Mondays when there’s no one here, it’s really lovely,” she says. “I go for walks looking at it from a visitor’s perspective rather than a manager’s perspective.” In those moments, the park becomes what it offers to others: a place of reflection.
Looking ahead, Antoinette is focused on accessibility and inclusion. “We’re reaching out to different sectors of the community, neurodiverse people, children, older people,” she says. “I’m really keen to create an accessible loop for wheelchairs and walkers.” Her vision is of a space that welcomes everyone into this shared experience of art and nature.
Education at the Sculpture Park happens through doing, noticing, and imagining.
Gemma Reid, arts and education administrator, has spent the past year expanding programmes that help visitors, especially children, engage more deeply with the site. “Not everybody’s an expert on trees and plants and not everybody’s an expert on the creative side,” she says. “It can make the site more approachable if they’ve just got a little bit of something that helps them to look at things maybe slightly differently.”
These small prompts can unlock big experiences. Children build rafts from sticks and leaves, testing ideas and solving problems as they go. “They have to really think about how they’re going to join these elements together,” Gemma explains. “And then the elation when it does actually float is quite special.”
For her, creativity is essential, not optional. “It is well documented now that creativity is so important both mentally and physically,” she says. “It really provokes a different way of thinking, decision making, and problem solving.”
What she sees most often is transformation. “People aren’t quite sure what to expect and the feedback is overwhelmingly positive,” she says. “You can engage as little or as much as you want… it really does become your own space, your own experience.”
The park does not carry expectations on how it should be experienced; it offers possibilities. If creativity is one pillar of the park, wellbeing is another.
John reflects on the concept of “forest bathing,” a Japanese practice of immersing oneself in the natural environment. “I used to think it was rather silly,” he admits. “And then I started to think, it’s lovely… all associated with mental well-being. I think it’s absolutely wonderful.”
For many visitors, the park provides a space to breathe and reset.
Susan Devonshire, who manages events, the café, and visitor experience, sees this impact daily. “Nature is a wonderful resetter,” she says. “You know when the place is going to hit the mark for people.”
During COVID, that role became even more pronounced. “People afterwards said this place saved them,” she recalls. “And I think it’s the power of creativity and the power of nature.”
Visitors may arrive carrying stress, uncertainty, or simply curiosity and leave changed. “They’re not quite sure… ‘oh, it’s a walk’… but the sheer uniqueness of it,” Susan says. “You make people feel good.”
She describes the park as a “multi-level sort of experience.” “You have that creativity, you have nature on top of that… this is where they need to be,” she says. “They’ve just had that moment where they can just take a breath.”
For Susan, the importance of spaces like this is only growing. “These places are really key for mental health and physical health,” she says. “We get a lot of mums because it’s a safe environment and it gives them the green hit.”
The Sculpture Park at Waitakaruru Arboretum is a place of intersection between art and environment, between learning and experience, between individual reflection and shared connection. What has grown from that foundation is something far richer than either Dorothy or John could have predicted: a living, evolving space where art enhances nature, and nature deepens the experience of art.
“We want to be able to provide an example in terms of rehabilitation and sustainability,” Dorothy reflects. “We want people to see the opportunities that are here.”
And those opportunities continue to expand through education programmes, community engagement, and the consistent act of opening the gates to the public each day.
In the same way, as long as people continue to walk these paths, to encounter art among the trees, and to find something of themselves in the process, the Sculpture Park will remain a place where art and nature do not just meet, but grow together.