Day: December 13, 2015

So I want to blog, separately and distinctly, to the korero I delivered as a part of my panel presentation at Toioho XX – the 20 year celebrations for Toioho Ki Apiti School of Maori Visual Art.  First of all – it was an absolute honor to be sharing the stage with Bridget Reweti, Huhana Smith and Charlotte Graham – wahine toa who have committed themselves to taiao through their art practices and narratives. I have huge respect for what they do and what they produce – aesthetically, philosophically and politically.

Bridget, myself, Huhana and Charlotte – Environmental Ministries, Preaching the Art. ToiohoXX.

I want to blog this kōrero, again, not only to reiterate some of the drivers behind my journey but because there were things that I didn’t actually get to say, on stage, that I think it’s important to say.

In particular – I have a couple of things I want to say to those of you studying Toi Māori.

Well, one thing really.

Whakapapa.

It was whakapapa that was invoked by Waziyatawin when I heard her say, back in 2013, that when the land is hurting, the people of the land will feel it first – and that the true tragedy of this lies in the fact that we, as indigenous people, have become complicit in this dilemma. I was reminded of my obligations to taiao that are visually represented in a whakapapa chart that we have up in our wharenui in Rangitukia, a chart that maps our family’s distinct connections to various insects, plants, sea mammals, and birds. I was reminded of our wharenui Taharora and the insects and plants holding place in our carved and painted pantheon alongside our ancestors. I was reminded of the whakapapa that I have worn in our korowai, our taniko, in our piupiu, and inked into my skin

It was whakapapa that the Mana o te Moana voyagers invoked in their incredible journey around the Pacific, calling upon the world to understand what we are doing to our ancestor and Atua, Tangaroa and Hinemoana and what we are doing to ourselves through them.

It was our whakapapa to Toroa that I was working on through a tukutuku panel at that time (of course the pattern was Roimata Toroa – the tears of the albatross). It was whakapapa that came crashing around my ears like a relentless storm surge when I came to understand what we, as a society, was doing to Toroa. What I, through my complicitness in these systems, was doing to Toroa.

It was my whakapapa – represented through the voices of my tipuna within our mahi toi – that spurred me into action.

It’s our whakapapa to the land, sky and sea that surrounds my students when we learn on the marae, and that same context that makes the wharenui the most logical space for teaching about the environment from a Māori perspective. It’s whakapapa speaking to us in these spaces… and although the message may vary, it will always underpin, ancestrally, our relationship, dependency, and obligations to taiao.

When I was in Japan, it was whakapapa that was so patently missing. I was in the middle of this conference, listening to the laments from every corner about the difficulty in integrating this idea that we are in an interdependent relationship with the environment around us. A relationship that holds obligations. I was already keenly aware of our own potential to guide that process when I went into the workshop on Arts Education and Sustainability.

This is where I need you to really pay attention. Don’t drift off or go check your facebook notifications.

You see – the environmental crises we face, as a planet – the global warming and global food shortage, the rising sea levels that are literally drowning our pacific cousins, the global water crisis, the pollution, the waste, the violent conflict that gets in the way of us even relating to each other let alone the common soil beneath our feet, the unprecedented loss of species. ALL of these issues have been known about for some time now… at least a couple of decades. And for all of our promises and efforts – we’re not even close to halting, or even slowing down, any of those issues. The status quo solution models are. not. working – and the consequences for that couldn’t be more dire.

We need divergent thinkers. Innovative solutions. Creative minds. We need people who can think outside of the box. We need those who can communicate across cultural and linguistic barriers.

We need artists.

Most importantly – we need people who can do all of this in a way that integrates and reminds us of our shared ancestral, spiritual and physical relationship to the environment.

We need indigenous artists.

We need you.

And so at this point I really want to know – what do you think you want to do with your art? With this amazing gift that has been passed down to you?

Do you want to hang it in a gallery? Make some money to make some more art to hang in more galleries?

Do you want to teach art? What will you teach your students? Will you teach them how to change the world with their voice?

Or will you teach them what a tree should like, or what a gallery might like a tree to look like? Or what other artists thought a tree looked like…

Because you absolutely have the capability to do so much more with your voice.

One of my most favorite Aunts once told me: “You are given your gift for the betterment of humankind. To not use it as such, is to the detriment of humankind”.

So again, I ask you – what do you plan to do with your gift?

Because humankind, and all other forms of life on this planet, require your gift – right now.

In this sense – Toioho Ki Apiti School of Maori Visual Arts at Massey really does hold a vital space in the landscape of innovative practice in indigenous art. It is a divergent, creative think tank – underpinned by the ancestral expressions of our whakapapa to our ancestors: human, ecological, and divine.

The Maori world is about whakapapa. Interconnectivity. It is the core principle of our existence. Toi Maori has a whakapapa and, as Papa Cliff Whiting pointed out in his plenary speech – it is spiritual, and ancestral, it extends beyond human ancestors and out to the universe around us and these facets can NEVER be overlooked or neglected.

Papa Cliff Whiting speaking to the centrality of spirituality within Maori Art – ToiohoXX

And so I will ask you one final time – what will you do, as a Maori artist – with the vital gifts and talents that the world needs right now? The answer may lie in your conscientious choice of materials, in your process, in your kaupapa, or in a combination of any or all of these things.

But the very least – the VERY least I need to you know, right now – is your absolute potential to forge vital change. The MOST vital of changes. Don’t let anyone tell you that mahi toi is any less than this.

Make no mistake. This is a call to arms for Papatuanuku – without whom we will have no other plight to fight for.

Step up.

 

 

I’m on my way home now, from an amazing week of workshops, panel talks and presentations. I’m at once exhausted and exhilarated; my tinana is drained but my manawa is filled, and renewed.

The week started with a trip down to Hongoeka Marae, a good five hours south of Gisborne – to support the Conscious Roots Festival.

A weekend of healing, of food sovereignty and healthy food systems, of ecologically centred housing and community systems, alternative energy workshops, performance and sound therapy, ancestral taonga puoro workshops… and into this beautiful space, I was invited to offer my musings on going plastic-free.  This is the home of Ngati Kimihia, Ngati Te Maunu and Ngati Haumia of Ngati Toa Rangatira. I have some whanau there, and a few friends as well – and it was wonderful to sit there on the mahau of their wharenui and discuss the dreams, hopes and various challenges they are facing on their journey to independence, and self-sufficiency, and wellbeing. Wiremu Grace, if you are reading this – your passion, and conviction, to move to ever more conscious ways of being in this world, in a way that honours the land we are on, and who we are and who we come from – well there is no greater or more honourable commitment in my books – kia kaha ra e te whanaunga.

I then spent a number of days at the NZ Political Studies 2015 Conference at Massey University –mixing with political scientists, educators, students and theorists, and thankfully more than a few people who bridge that space into practice as well. Veronica Tawhai developed a stream of Māori relevant workshops and panels that really was engaging for all backgrounds. The highlight for me was, without a doubt, the workshop delivered by Matike Mai Youth Group for Constitutional Transformation.

Karena Karauria, Kelly Harrison, Veronica Tawhai, Richard Shaw, Nga Rauuira Puumanawawhiti schooling us all on how to engage with constitutional transformation.

It healed me, in another way, to see rangatahi so passionate to engaging with systems that can forge a better future for themselves. They completely redefined the space and taught EVERYONE what effective engagement looked like.  My heart was filled with pride watching them weave their magic, filled with hope and conviction, articulating, so very clearly, their expectations and intentions. It was also, for me, a deeply emotional experience as I considered the many rangatahi that are not with us today, who are experiencing the other end of the spectrum… the desolation and despair and lack of hope for a bright future. There are too many, there have been too many, and we are carrying this heavily right now. So to see this inspiring, enlivening, passionate work BY youth – it healed me. I was reminded of our Nanny Tuini Ngawai, sitting on a hill, contemplative of this ever changing world, what it means for the ways of her ancestors, for our kind, and for the youth, moving ahead into the future. I’m so sure, that were she there in that room it would have filled her with pride too.

Wednesday evening, I popped over to work with an awesome whanau group who are looking to engage with their waterways. In the drizzly rain, we stood there, brushing macroinvertebrates from rocks, checking water clarity, measuring ph levels, talking about the development of monitoring programs. These whanau were all there in their own time, at the invite of their whanaunga Reuben, not having engaged in this space before but understanding that there is no time like now to get involved, to take those first steps around growing their capacity – and that it may be aimed at something authoritative at some point, but for now it’s about getting in touch with their waterways and being involved in the wellbeing of their waterways. There were about a dozen there and honestly – these are moments that also make my heart sing… not just because I’m outside, in an awa rather than between four walls… but also because there are a whole DOZEN whanau members there, interested and engaged and passionate for all the right reasons. That’s huge.

A few meetings on Thursday, and then, on Friday, it was the kick off for the 20 year celebration of my alma mater – Toioho Ki Apiti, School of Maori Arts at Massey University, Palmerston North. Over 2 days, we celebrated the incredible journey of this school, from it’s inception, and the first group of students who included inspirational practitioners such as Huhana Smith and Charlotte Graham.

Exhibitions ran over 6 venues that included work from over 40 graduates and staff including Rangi Kipa, Ngahina Hohaia, current head of school Ngatai Taepa, Israel Tangaroa Birch, Shane Cotton, Kura Te Waru Rewiri, Simon Kaan, Areta Wilkinson, Steve Gibbs, Priscilla Cowie, Rachael Rakena, Tawera Tahuri, Reuben Friend, Tina Wirihana, Aimee Ratana, Erena Baker, Martin Langdon, Reweti Arapere, Hemi MacGregor… and the super impressive installation work done by the art collective Taipō – Bridget Reweti, Terri Te Tau and Rongomaiaia Te Whaiti. A visual and cognitive hakari laid out across the urban landscape of Papaioea.  On day 2, the Palmerston North Convention Center was the venue for the Toioho XX Symposium, where creators, curators, teachers, students, and lovers of art gathered to share discussions, through panel presentations and plenaries, on the past twenty years (and often beyond that), the current state of affairs, and the potential future of Māori Art here in Aotearoa, and abroad.

We were blessed, really blessed, to enjoy a panel discussion by those who have really forged the path for contemporary Maori art in Aotearoa – Marilyn Webb, Sandy Adsett, Cliff Whiting, Clive Arlidge, Fred Graham – all offering their reflections on the “Pine Taiapa” period – the time where Pine, and Gordon Tovey, together nurtured and ushered a new generation of artists, a new culture of pushing boundaries, of visual innovation, of ways that allowed us to be, and do, and create, that reflected our colonized realities, our ancestral underpinnings, our individual experiences of this world, our collective, and interactive voices and concerns. These titans of the Maori art world, whose names are heard from school years and whose artworks are pored over in books as we progress in learning the whakapapa of contemporary Māori art – were all manifest in front of us – human and humorous, and angry, and cheeky, retelling stories of mischief from this incredibly definitive era. This was, without a doubt, one of the most special experiences of my life that I will never forget.

There were plenaries on the whakapapa of art, and the systemic conflicts between Maori art and Western art systems – there panel presentations on the history of the school, on the pursuit of mana through contemporary Māori art, and on collaborative processes and practices. All of them were moving, and inspiring, and invigorating – this was, without a doubt, the very best symposium I have ever attended. Seeing my academic whanau again, my classmates, my kaiako, those who nurtured me into the critical rantypants that I am…. THAT was heartwarming.

I’m going to write a bit more on the session that I took part in, in a moment, as a separate post but I wanted to sign this post off with a mihi to the man that really is responsible for this weekend being everything that it was.

Robert Jahnke began delivering Māori visual arts at Massey in 1995 along with Shane Cotton. Along the way he has worked with a formidable team of innovative and thoughtful Māori art educators such as Kura Te Waru Rewiri, Rangi Kipa, Brett Graham, Rachael Rakena, Ngātai Taepa, Saffron Te Ratana and Israel Tangaroa Birch. The calibre of artists and curators that have graduated from the BMVA and MMVA programs, many of whom are operating at the pinnacle of their fields today, who were all present at this reunion and symposium, really does speak to the amazing work and contribution that Professor Jahnke has offered the New Zealand art world. I was humbled to even just be in the room with most of them.  No doubt everyone has their reflections of him as their mentor, guide and teacher, but here are mine.

I remember, one evening, Bob telling me that he doesn’t see himself as an artist first and foremost – but as an art educator who is fortunate to also be able to create art himself. This surprised the socks off me because before meeting him I had always idolised the man as an artist, and had considered it a stroke of luck that he was also teaching and that I could enrol to learn under him.  I recall Bob as a guide on a learning process that gradually and gently unfolded each of us, like complex origami pieces, back to a form where we could critically examine the lines and folds of our history and political realities… and then empowering us to then reassemble ourselves, replete with our knowing of the processes that have gone into who we are. In this process we are politicised, we become charged with purpose, with critical confidence and self-awareness, with strong voices, with a passionate sense of enquiry and a bold willingness to challenge assumptions – and we are (and this is so important and was reiterated by Marilyn Webb) – supported to be WHO WE ARE.

Everything about this journey, if you have followed it from the early days, was earthed in my ancestral relationship to taiao, in my acute critical awareness of the role that Toroa, and taiao, plays in my world, AS IT MANIFESTS THROUGH OUR ART – it is earthed in my refusal to believe that it has to be this way and a passion to use my voice to give back to taiao.

For this, and for so much more – the trips to Waipiro Bay, the incredibly generous sharing of your time, support, and wisdom, the robust debates, the way in which you have guided our waka to Hawaiiki and back, your love and support for all of your students and their babies – kore e mutu aku mihi aroha ki a koe, e te rangatira.

Tina