Uploaded July 2020 | Updated September 2026, 1 week ago
Julia Deans knows some of her great-great-great grandmother’s story. Information she’s gleaned from family folklore and from the book Jane Deans herself wrote - Letters to my Grandchildren - to educate her descendants on her life as a pioneering woman in early Canterbury.
Jane’s story began in Scotland in 1823 and ended with her death in Christchurch, 87 years later. It was, as Julia Deans describes, a “good innings.”
A life of patience, tragedy, resolve and determination. Ultimately, Jane Deans is remembered as a much-loved and admired matriarch of family, and community.
While she was widowed young, with only one son, Jane Deans’ descendants now number around 340, and growing. Well-known among them are All Blacks’ Bob, Robbie and Bruce Deans.
Julia’s grandfather was renowned watercolourist Austen Deans and her father, Paul, is an acclaimed sculptor.
Julia Deans chose a musical career and in the 1990’s was lead singer of rock band Fur Patrol, best known for the single ‘Lydia’ which hit number one in the New Zealand music charts.
Now a successful solo artist and residing in Auckland, Deans was born and raised in Christchurch and recalls visiting the historic Deans Cottage, the oldest remaining building on the Canterbury Plains.
“I remember coming here on school trips, thinking it was freezing and it’s still freezing.”
It was in the small, wooden cottage that Jane Deans, newly immigrated from Scotland, cared for both a young child and a dying husband - John Deans died of tuberculosis less than 2 years after their wedding.
His widow’s loneliness noted in her own words to her grandchildren, “may you never know what it is to be left alone, a stranger in a strange land, among strangers. Let them be ever so kind.”
As women couldn’t own property at the time, it was up to Jane Deans to ensure the estate was managed successfully until their son, John II, could inherit when he came of age.
She also honoured her husband’s wishes to protect the stand of native bush at the Riccarton property. Today, it is Canterbury’s only remnant of kahikatea floodplain forest.
The home Jane built after her husband’s death, now belongs to the people of Christchurch.
Riccarton House, in use as a cafe and venue, has been lovingly restored.
Upstairs, in Jane’s simple, single bedroom are the gloves presented to her by John Deans before he left for New Zealand in 1842. Theirs was a long and distant courtship. It would be ten years before John would return to Scotland to finally make Jane his bride.
Julia Deans ponders that she may not have waited that long, but her mission to find out more about her remarkable ancestor has given her “a lot of respect for this woman who gave up everything in Edinburgh for love, and came to this crazy, new country and effectively started a dynasty.”
Credits:
- Sir William Fox, 1812-1893, Riccarton. Messrs Deans’ Station. Canterbury, 1848, watercolour on paper, 175mm x 250mm, Acc. No. A783, Hocken Collections, Uare Taoka o Hākena, University of Otago.
- Drone Riccarton House: Philip Renich
- Weekly Press. Christchurch City Libraries, File Reference CCL PhotoCD 4, IMG0076
Watch video for full story: frankfilm.co.nz
Julia Deans knows some of her great-great-great grandmother’s story. Information she’s gleaned from family folklore and from the book Jane Deans herself wrote - Letters to my Grandchildren - to educate her descendants on her life as a pioneering woman in early Canterbury.
Jane’s story began in Scotland in 1823 and ended with her death in Christchurch, 87 years later. It was, as Julia Deans describes, a “good innings.”
A life of patience, tragedy, resolve and determination. Ultimately, Jane Deans is remembered as a much-loved and admired matriarch of family, and community.
While she was widowed young, with only one son, Jane Deans’ descendants now number around 340, and growing. Well-known among them are All Blacks’ Bob, Robbie and Bruce Deans.
Julia’s grandfather was renowned watercolourist Austen Deans and her father, Paul, is an acclaimed sculptor.
Julia Deans chose a musical career and in the 1990’s was lead singer of rock band Fur Patrol, best known for the single ‘Lydia’ which hit number one in the New Zealand music charts.
Now a successful solo artist and residing in Auckland, Deans was born and raised in Christchurch and recalls visiting the historic Deans Cottage, the oldest remaining building on the Canterbury Plains.
“I remember coming here on school trips, thinking it was freezing and it’s still freezing.”
It was in the small, wooden cottage that Jane Deans, newly immigrated from Scotland, cared for both a young child and a dying husband - John Deans died of tuberculosis less than 2 years after their wedding.
His widow’s loneliness noted in her own words to her grandchildren, “may you never know what it is to be left alone, a stranger in a strange land, among strangers. Let them be ever so kind.”
As women couldn’t own property at the time, it was up to Jane Deans to ensure the estate was managed successfully until their son, John II, could inherit when he came of age.
She also honoured her husband’s wishes to protect the stand of native bush at the Riccarton property. Today, it is Canterbury’s only remnant of kahikatea floodplain forest.
The home Jane built after her husband’s death, now belongs to the people of Christchurch.
Riccarton House, in use as a cafe and venue, has been lovingly restored.
Upstairs, in Jane’s simple, single bedroom are the gloves presented to her by John Deans before he left for New Zealand in 1842. Theirs was a long and distant courtship. It would be ten years before John would return to Scotland to finally make Jane his bride.
Julia Deans ponders that she may not have waited that long, but her mission to find out more about her remarkable ancestor has given her “a lot of respect for this woman who gave up everything in Edinburgh for love, and came to this crazy, new country and effectively started a dynasty.”
Credits:
- Sir William Fox, 1812-1893, Riccarton. Messrs Deans’ Station. Canterbury, 1848, watercolour on paper, 175mm x 250mm, Acc. No. A783, Hocken Collections, Uare Taoka o Hākena, University of Otago.
- Drone Riccarton House: Philip Renich
- Weekly Press. Christchurch City Libraries, File Reference CCL PhotoCD 4, IMG0076
Watch video for full story: frankfilm.co.nz






![Sam and Alison - Artists Lives
Under the branches of an old pittosporum on the grounds of an historic flour mill in Waikari, North Canterbury, a solitary figure sits on a chair. Rugged up in coat and cap, left ankle crossed over the other, he holds a cup of coffee, now speckled with twigs; the book in his other hand opens on to a poem: “Don’t just sit there you complicit / bastard; get up and do something!”
“This is the one that gives me the shits every time I walk past,” says sculptor, writer and activist Sam Mahon. “Who the f… is this?”
Of course it is him, Mahon himself, a sculptural representation of the artist by the artist at the artist’s home; a call to arms for environmental or political action that for Mahon is what art is all about.
“I think all art should be political. Every good sculpture should have context, form and story.”
Can’t some be there just for the beauty of the work?
“That’s called wallpaper. Art has a voice and the minute that voice is taken away from us by some corporate who says we should only have decoration and no story, we are in trouble.”
It is 40 years since Mahon bought the mill, then a cheap but derelict place on a 2.8-hectare patch of mainly bare land.
Now it is the home, studio, garden, foundry and horse paddock for Mahon, his partner, artist Alison Erickson, and their 15-year-old daughter Charlie.
When Frank Film visits on a bitter June morning, Erickson, in gloves and duffel coat, is heading outside to start up the furnace to melt the bronze in an age-old process of lost wax casting.
At school, she says, Erickson was the sort of kid “who was always in the art room at lunch time”. While living down the road, she became a frequent visitor to the studio. “Sam would hand me a block of limestone or he taught me how to make stained glass,” she recalls. “I just thought it was wonderful, kind of magical.”
Then, at the age of 18, “I never left.”
Since then, Erickson has built a figurative sculptural practice recognised for its contemplative evocations of environmental change and human intimacy. In Canterbury, these include Looking for something that will last (2019) in Diamond Harbour, The winds of change (2015) outside the Rangiora library and A room of one’s own (2022) at Tai Tapu Sculpture Garden.
“I enjoy the technical sides of casting bronze as well as the actual sculpting and the ideas that initially go into it,” she says. “It’s fun to push the edges a little bit and see how tiny you can get things.”
Where Erickson focuses on sculpture, Mahon’s career has straddled painting, sculpture and writing, including The Year of the Horse, winner of the Best First Book Award in 2003, the much acclaimed The Water Thieves in 2006 and, in 2008, My father’s shadow: a portrait of Justice Peter Mahon, an insight into the man best known as the Royal Commissioner into the Mount Erebus disaster.
His art spans the spidery subtlety of Regret in Christchurch’s Botanic Gardens (1997) to the more than twice-life-size rendition of former environment minster Nick Smith squatting, trouser-less, over a glass of water – a highly public protest against the impact of intensive dairying on Canterbury’s rivers and aquifers.
It was blunt, divisive, indicative of a self-styled voice of protest that drives his work.
In the studio, alongside a small figure of Swedish environmental activist Greta Thunberg, stands the head of Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu. “I dont like him very much,” says Mahon, brushing a hand over his wrist, “so I carved his face then painted it with my own blood.”
Inside the lofty spaces of the workshop, he points to a small kinetic work combining the intrigue of a mid-century mechanical toy with political dissent. At a push of a button (or the insertion of a coin), small figures swing into Sisyphean action: a woman with a child on her back pushes a lever, a man works a grinding machine, another supports a plinth on which a rotund figure, a “one-percenter” says Mahon, referring to the wealthy elite who make almost twice as much as the bottom 99 percent of the world’s population, lounges back, large hand grasping the slender stem of a wine glass. The miniature movable bits, says Mahon, draw people in, “and then they get the idea – that [US comedian] George Carlin idea that if you want to cut somebody’s throat you put a razor blade in the muffin.”
He points to the moving carousel: “This is the muffin.”
It is uncompromising work built in an uncompromising climate. Canterbury’s winters are cold, the mill is old, the work itself hard.
“It’s spare, but it’s rich,” says Mahon. “Everything we’ve done here, all this, is built on art and art practice.”
By Sally Blundell of Frank Film
Credits:
Producer/Director/Cameraman/Interviewer: Gerard Smyth
Writer/Researcher: Sally Blundell
Editor: Oliver Dawe
Researcher/Second Camera: Ellie Adams
Line Producer: Erina Ellis
Sound Design/Mix: Chris Sinclair
Production Manager: Jo Ffitch
Attributions:
Nick Smith photos courtesy of Andrew Lukey Sam and Alison - Artists Lives](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/xPOXNBVA6R4/mqdefault.jpg)



