Cameron Hunt Art Installation
The art pieces by Cameron Hunt were installed during the recent Little Street Art Festival and include messages such as “Slightly haunted but manageable.” Cameron Hunt/Instagram

Walk down Cashel Street in central Christchurch right now, and you might spot something odd.

A sign, looking every bit like council property, instructs you to keep your walking speed under 2.83 kilometres per hour.

Round the corner near Hereford and Montreal Streets, another one warns that the area is 'slightly haunted but manageable'.

A third offers just one word. Don't.

They're the work of Cameron Hunt, a Wellington artist who spent the first two weeks of December installing fake municipal signage around the city as part of the Little Street Art Festival.

Five went up in total. Each looks official enough to fool you for a second. The fonts match. The layout matches. The logo, though, reads 'Christchurch City Confusion' instead of 'Christchurch City Council'.

The Symbols And Their Aesthetic Purposes

The art pieces were installed during the recent Little Street Art Festival and include messages such as 'Slightly haunted but manageable,' and a warning of walking at '2.83 km/h speed only.'

Others merely say 'Don't,' and the meaning of what they say is unknown.

'Watching people interact with the signs has been awesome,' Hunt said in an interview with The Guardian.

As Hunt explained, it was to make signs that appear official and carry absurd messages to create a moment of confusion, followed by 'happiness instantly.'

They cause wonder and debate, which the murals or graffiti might not. The installation was also strategically placed almost at the heart of the city, with all signs in various locations to ensure that anyone passing by the city takes time to reflect on what surrounds them.

Social Media Reactions

The installations have led to different responses. The majority of residents have shared images on social media, so the signs became more of a scavenger hunt. However, some individuals were concerned, and they asked whether the speed limit sign was visible.

The message that such mixed messages were attempting to convey was confused by others.

Others interpreted the signs literally, but most quickly realised they were tongue-in-cheek and got this information through social media posts and discussions in their communities.

This element of the first impression and its renewal emphasises the importance of the signage in everyday life. The signs have also sparked discussion of how humour fits into a social context and the imperative to be creative when appealing to the community.

What Does The Council Think?

The Christchurch City Council has expressed that it had taken a liking to Hunt's art installation.

The chief consultant of the community arts council, Kiri Jarden, praised the signs, remarking that they were so much fun to get involved in and that she was in favour of the artists who were using humour to create meaningful interactions in the open air.

'We totally support artists using humour to gently interrupt and engage passersby,' Jarden told The Guardian.

A History Of Funny Art Installations

It is not the first time Hunt installed his art installation like this. He's done this before.

Earlier in 2025, Hunt put fake Wellington City Council signs around the capital. One appeared by the Botanic Garden pond, warning visitors not to feed the crocodiles. The phone number listed belonged to Platypus, a shoe shop on Manners Street. They sell Crocs.

There were also 'free scuba lessons at 11 a.m. Saturday' in a local water park and the contact number of a local tyre shop was also given.

Hunt's installations are somewhat humorous, parody-based, and social commentaries that make people think in a light-hearted way.

City officials accept Hunt's antics as a welcome injection of humour, though some signs have been removed to avoid confusion.

Most of us glance at signs without reading them properly.

We see the shape, the colour, and assume the rest. Hunt exploits that. His fake signs pass the autopilot test. They only unravel when you actually stop and look.

That's the joke. And for a couple of weeks in December, Christchurch was in on it.