For two years 14-year-old Steven Menefy has been making graphic wall plaques, drafting his own geometrical designs with carefully calculated mathematical precision.
Normally this mightn’t be considered such a great accomplishment, but to Steven it’s a most satisfying outlet. Born a rubella baby, he’s profoundly deaf and has only limited, unintelligible speech.
But in his own way he’s a self-taught artist. His natural aptitude for figures has helped him to perfect his own art style. He finds sitting on the floor of his Pukekura home the best position while he’s working.
First, he drafts a design on drawing paper, using a ruler, the compass and pencil, marking and numbering each point where he’ll insert a panel pin. These he firmly fixes through the paper into a previously painted wood panel, which forms the backing of the plaque.
The paper, having served its purpose, he tears away, leaving the design clearly outlined by the pins in the board. Then Steven creates his plaque by winding coloured cotton round the pins from point to point.
He can also copy a picture in chalks, scaling it up or down.
He’s justifiably proud of his works, from which he derives great satisfaction, and is always happy to give his plaques to his friends as gifts.
It’s fascinating to see how he gets through to people. He “speaks” two languages – both sign – one for his family and the other at the high school department of Kelston School for the Deaf where he’s a weekly boarder.
“Steven’s a keen reader, especially of war books,” his mother Mrs Mulie Menefy said. “he’s interested in nature study and loves animals.” At weekends at his parents’ (Mr and Mrs Denis Menefy) town supply farm at Karaka, Papakura, he helps with the milking, feeds the calves, and drives the tractor over the farm.
Sometimes to increase his personal communications, he writes his message.
Since he was seven he’s been collecting stamps and his collection is representative of almost every country. As he showed me his meticulously catalogued albums, through his own form of communication he conveyed to me the origins of various sections.
For Vietnam he simulated shooting (the place where people are waging war), for Hong Kong his fingers drew his eyes up at the corners, and at sight of his German stamps one hand shot to his upper lip and fondled an invisible Hitlerian moustache while another went up stiffly in a Nazi salute.
His sense of humour is equalled by his sense of fun.
“Being profoundly deaf, Steven can’t hear music, but perhaps he senses its vibrations because he’s a very good dancer with a well-developed sense of rhythm,” said his mother.
He hopes to take up screen-printing when he leaves school and so turn his artistic talent to practical purpose.
Left photo caption: The perfect symmetry of his work is seen in the lacy, gold-coloured cotton plaque Steven’s holding. On the carpet in front, left, yachts dip gracefully, and the third plaque is a pink linear collage with a contrasting scarlet spot forming a focal point.
Centre photo caption: Steven displays a large web-like piece in gilt thread.
Right caption: Putting the final touches to the pink linear collage.
