‘Ahu: Ngā wairua o Hina – Making for the past, present, and future

In 1787, a series of books composed of samples of barkcloths collected from Hawai‘i, Tahiti and Tonga were published by Alexander Shaw. James Cook collected the cloths during his voyages to the Pacific, and while the books contain only fragments of much larger creations, they highlight the variety of textures and artistry attained through the practices, knowledge and skills of Pacific peoples. Mātauranga Māori Curator Isaac Te Awa and Co-Director Pauline Reynolds take us through some of the makers reactions to the Shaw book at the recent wānanga in Tahiti.

There is a sense of wonder when practitioners encounter taonga like the Shaw book. We marvel at our ancestors’ mastery. We try to understand how they created the patterns and techniques. We ask questions. Was it fermented before it was beaten, or is it freshbeat? What dyes did they use? Who made these cloths, why were they made, and what did the full-size cloth look like? How does it differ from the cloth that’s produced today? Unfortunately, the questions that we consider vital to the story of taonga today were rarely prioritised and recorded by early collectors. However, through practitioners’ collective knowledge, some of these questions can be answered.

Once the initial emotions surrounding the Shaw book fade, many practitioners feel a deep sense of sadness or loss. Some feel grief over the treatment that taonga have been subjected to; that they were once so culturally important and omnipresent but are now rare in our everyday lives. We mourn the lack of knowledge that was never collected, recorded or passed down.

A man and two women are sitting on a mat and under a tree and talking.
Co-Directors of ‘Ahu: Ngā Wairua o Hina, Isaac Te Awa and Pauline Reynolds, with Dalani Tanahy sitting and making together. Photo by Rebecca Rice. Te Papa

As a maker, I picture the taonga my own hands create and imagine them in the future, far from home out of context and disconnected from the stories and people they were made to be connected to. In Aotearoa as Māori, we believe that all things contain mauri which connects all things, people and atua; within our belief system all makers carry the living mauri of taonga. Through their experience and knowledge, they are capable of bringing insight of living practice back to historical taonga and rebirthing these taonga and their mauri into future works for people today and generations to come.

– Isaac Te Awa, Artistic Co-Director ‘Ahu: Ngā Wairua o Hina

‘Ahu: Ngā Wairua o Hina brought together knowledge holders of Tongan, Sāmoan, Niuean, Fijian, Hawaiian, Tahitian, Pitcairn-Norfolk Island, and Māori descent. Over five days this group of makers worked together to re-establish their living relationships to the cloth held within the Alexander Shaw book. Through a process of wānanga in the place where many of Shaw’s samples were collected, this group of makers created two tapa bundles, incorporating the ideas of past, present, and future. Today, one of the bundles resides with Te Papa and the other with Te Fare Iamanaha-Musée de Tahiti et des Îles.

In the early stages of planning this wānanga, I appreciated Te Papa’s intention to facilitate the travel of the Shaw book to Tahiti, where, on that wh/fenua, we could get up close and really look at the techniques, methods, and materials held in that taonga/tao’a. As a maker and researcher, I’ve spent a lot of time looking at and thinking about fragments: how this cutting up of culture affects us and prevents us from seeing the whole, but still reveals so much. Thinking of the Tahitian ’ahu fragments in the book, I imagined them sensing a return home to where they were made, where the fibres grew, where dyes were mixed and applied. Enabling access to the book on the wh/fenua where some of the fragments were made was a fundamental and foundational part of the project.

– Dr Pauline Reynolds, Artistic Co-Director ‘Ahu: Ngā Wairua o Hina

The objective of the practitioner-led response was to create a body of work to holistically and ethically document and record the perspectives and stories of modern Pacific tapa makers. Through their creative, cultural, and artistic practices this project aims to act as a cultural love letter to empower and inspire future descendants, while honouring the legacy of the ancestral makers of the past.

While it is impossible to capture all of the rich kōrero exchanged by these skilled makers, following are some highlights and insights into the thought processes of the artists and supporting team on why the Shaw book and having access to it is important to their practice.

A woman is holding a magnifying glass and looking at pages of an open book that is resting on a cushion.
Sarah Vaki and Tutana Tetuanui-Peters view the Shaw book. Photo by Rebecca Rice. Te Papa

Sarah Vaki (Te Ao Maohi – Fatu Hiva)

Initially when we spoke about the book, I was impatient to see it. It’s very moving because those pieces come from the time of Cook. So, I thank those people who were able to conserve all those small pieces of tapa, of ‘ahu, so that we can see them today. It was very moving, I was very affected and impressed by the work done by those in the past because that tapa is very very fine.

Two women are sitting on mats on the ground outside and working with tapa cloth
Hinatea Colombani and Nikau Hindin create together. Photo by Rebecca Rice. Te Papa

Hinatea Colombani (Te Ao Maohi – Tahiti)

The Shaw book provides access to the old knowledges of our ancestors. We are linked to the tapa. Our mission in Tahiti and the archipelagos of Ni‘a mata‘i and Raromata‘i now is a revival and to educate our  people about their history through tapa. Everything is linked with the tapa. We have to serve this mission.

Nikau Hindin (Aotearoa – Ngāi Tūpoto, Te Rarawa, Ngāpuhi)

What is useful about the Shaw book is seeing how excellent the quality of the kapa or masi or ngatu is. How fine the kapa is, and how careful the adornment is. Our ancestors were able to execute things to the highest level of excellence and that is really what Toi Māori is to me; excellence in our art forms.

Two women are sitting on the floor on mats and working with tapa cloth. They are both laughing.
Cora-Allan Twiss and Tui Emma Gillies make and laugh. Photo courtesy of Tui Emma Gillies

Cora-Allan Twiss (Aotearoa – Tainui, Ngāpuhi; Niue – Alofi, Liku)

The first time I saw a Shaw book was at the Auckland Museum Library and I thought “this is cool” but then when you start to sit with it you realise it isn’t cool because the pieces are all cut up. So then you start to ask questions and see the interruption to the lineage of tapa  that Cook managed to experience. When I first saw the pieces in the book I wondered if he was there when they were made? Was he there watching the inks be laid down? … And so I started to ask myself questions such as what would my work look like if it was in this kind of form?

Tui Emma Gillies (Tonga – Falevai, Vavau)

I am absolutely fascinated by the Shaw books. Seeing Te Papa’s book in Tahiti was quite an emotional experience because there was a whole page covered in ngatu and it just showed how careful our work was. It was so beautiful, the kupesi, the patterns were so fine and it shows that great care and thought went into our art practice. I wish we could know exactly where everything’s from: to know what village it came from and who made it.

A woman is standing in a circle of people describing things and gesticulating with her hands.
Liviana Qaranivalu shares stories of tapa with the community. Photo by Martin Lewis. Te Papa

Liviana Qaranivalu (Fiji – Vatulele)

When I saw the Shaw book I was surprised by some of my colleagues, because for me, it’s normal to see different kinds of tapa, and many colours. On our island, when we’re young, we see our grandmothers, our mothers beating tapa. When I was five years old, I started beating tapa, it’s what we do, every day, we beat every day, and I love it.

Many people are sitting or standing on the ground and working with tapa. There are two women in the foreground.
Dalani Tanahy and Pauline Reynolds make friends with the community. Photo by Martin Lewis. Te Papa

Dalani Tanahy (Hawai‘i)

When I’ve gone into museum collections and looked at Shaw books or looked at big kapa missing a chunk, I’ve learned to let things go, because this is our time to correct or rectify things. Anytime I see kapa, whatever form it’s in, I appreciate the chance to see and study it and be inspired by it.

Pauline Reynolds (Norfolk Island – Pitcairn, Tahitian descent)

Unlike other Shaw books I’ve seen, the Te Papa book doesn’t have text, so my full attention is drawn to the tapa inside the sampler. I’m interested in the textures, and I suppose Shaw tried to choose a variety of fragments so that the books had several very fine pieces and several thick pieces with different design features. For me, those pieces are portals into the makers’ lives, because they touched them in the past and I’m able to touch them in my present.

A woman and man is holding a piece of tapa and another man is cutting it with scissors. There are people watching on.
Through cutting tapa Sue Pearson acknowledges the history of the Shaw book. Photo by Rebecca Rice. Te Papa

Sue Pearson (Norfolk Island – Pitcairn, Tahitian descent)

The Shaw book is a collection of fragments of Pacific tapa from many makers, all brought together by other hands without much information or context. The makers of these pieces most likely never knew each other or could have imagined how much we admire the quality and diversity of the tapa today and how the collection of their work has brought together this beautiful new family of tapa makers.

A woman is sitting at a table outside and working on a piece of tapa cloth.
Sulieti Fieme’a Burrows prepares tapa for painting. Photo by Rebecca Rice. Te Papa

Sulieti Fieme’a Burrows (Tonga – Falevai, Vavau)

I love to see the samples in the Shaw book and it’s very sad to see such small pieces and the way they cut it and put it in the book. On the other hand, I’m glad because that’s a way we can see–even if the piece is so small–we have something for us, it’s a blessing to see this little piece. If they didn’t cut the piece and put it in the book like that, we wouldn’t have anything.

Two men are sitting on the ground holding a tapa cloth between them.
Doron Semu shares one of his tapa pieces with Isaac Te Awa. Photo by Rebecca Rice. Te Papa

Doron Semu (Sāmoa – Falelatai, Salelesi, Asau, Falelima; New Zealand European)

To connect with the Shaw book in this context with this massive community of makers has given me the ability to deepen my connection to my community and to expand relationships but also to develop my practice. Having time with Liviana and seeing how Fijians have continued to make tapa is beautiful because it brings life to my practice, and to be able to connect that back to the book brings life to that too. 

Ten women are standing and facing the camera and either smiling at each other, or the camera.
Tapa makers with the completed bundles to go to resides with Te Papa and the other with Te Fare Iamanaha-Musée de Tahiti et des Îles. Photo by Rebecca Rice. Te Papa

As co-director and curator, some of the most meaningful moments for me was meeting the artists via Zoom and talking them through the book. Some of them had never heard of it, so watching them come to terms with the history of the book, how they felt about pieces being cut up, and also some of the surprising views where they likened the book to a little whānau or a little family of pieces from across the Pacific that have been living together for over 100 years or even longer.

The highlight for me has been that by just supporting them and letting them do their thing, they’ve produced this amazing response. It’s a response that allowed them to look at it from their perspective, and it’s been the most beautiful thing to watch unfold.

Find out more about the wānanga

‘Ahu: Ngā wairua o Hina – Tapa workshops in Tahiti

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