Tuakiri, Tautohe, Tūmanako (Identity, Contention, Hope)
The threads are starting to pull together. A former colleague, a fierce activist for Māori rights and education, introduced me to Paraikete Whero and this beautiful, heavy concept of art as resistance.
“Because protest isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it is one act. Quiet. Grounded. Done in aroha, love, and wairua, spirit. And that one act can shift everything.”
It makes me wonder about my mahi toi and my project. How can my weaving tell my story? A story of solidarity with the tangata whenua of this place I’ve chosen as home. It needs to hold the discomfort, maybe even the shame, of where I come from. But it also needs to hold a growing acceptance: I can’t change history. I can’t undo what was done. I can still find a way to be proud of my heritage while putting my hands and my energy into supporting decolonisation right now, in the present.
Can a piece of art hold all of that? The shame, the pride, the solidarity?
So, having gone down this path of thinking, I wonder if that is my kaupapa?
Something that represents my solidarity with the indigenous people of the land I have chosen to call home, a piece that may also represent my sense of discomfort or shame with where I come from, but also a growing acceptance that there is nothing I can do about what was done, that I can still be proud of my heritage and I can do what I can now to support decolonisation.
Oof! That’s a bit heavy…. How will I do it?
I also want to consider the idea of weaving as art and as kōrero, so creating an ‘installation’ as well as a practical, functional piece. Maybe more than one piece that incorporates an abstract art piece that represents where I come from, a kete whakairo with a pattern that represents the conflict I have, and a pākē that brings everything together? The three together show my evolution of thought, identity and learning.
“Because protest isn’t always loud… Sometimes, it is one act. Quiet. Grounded. Done in aroha.”
My act of weaving this story is my quiet protest against the erasure of history.
Tuakiri:
A piece to represent my early life in England, my connection to the earth as a “playground” (caving, climbing, fells), paired with the weight of realising the global impact of British colonisation.
Maybe a long kupenga made of fairly stiff harakeke that represents a cave opening, with a narrow entrance.
Maybe something like this, but with wider whenu and less of a cylinder, rougher and a narrower neck. Inside, it will have stones, which represent the weight of the discomfort I felt (and still feel) as someone from England who learned as a sa teenager about the colonialism that built an Empire!
The stones also represent the connection to the land (I have some fossils; maybe they would work as they have that even deeper whakapapa to the land?) I would incorporate sheep’s wool, which represents the Yorkshire Dales, but also Leeds, as this was a textile town, where wool was spun and woven.
Weaving Techniques & Materials:
Use harakeke, but keep it raw, stiff, or heavy.
Incorporate elements like sheep’s wool that represent both the wool trade in Leeds, where I was born (a textile town), and the Yorkshire Dales, intertwined with the harakeke.
A kupenga that has a tight, constricted opening and is deliberately distorted, which represents the discomfort and shame I felt about English colonisation
Keeping the whole thing deliberately rough represents interacting with the land without yet fully understanding an indigenous connection with it.
Tautohe:
A piece to represent my growing understanding of colonisation, the impact it had on Aotearoa, and my commitment as tangata tiriti to ‘decolonise’ myself and support tangata whenua.
This could either be an artistic piece like a triptych – 3 panels, or a kete whakairo or even three small kete whakairo, with patterns and colours that show the growth but also the ‘unravelling’ of my thought and the debates I have about who I am as tangata tiriti and what I can do, but with strong threads that stay connected. Colours – red, black, natural – Paptūānuku, Ranginui, Te ao Marama
Materials:
Harakeke – prepared, hapine-ed, dyed – red black and natural – Papatūānuku, Ranginui and Te Ao Mārama
Muka – because the process of creating it means scraping away the outer leaf to reveal the strong, inner fibre, which symbolises decolonisation – scraping away the layers of colonial conditioning to find the truth.
Red wool or blanket strips to represent the blood of history, the spark of activism, and the “quiet protest” of Te Paraikete Whero and the concept of art and resistance.
Tūmanako:
A Kahu, which represents where I am now (sort of!) More settled and more confident about who I am and my role as tangata tiriti. A growing acceptance of my heritage and my active, daily commitment to supporting decolonisation through my work and life in Aotearoa. This is more flowing than the other pieces; it is functional as well as artistic – I could wear it proudly.
Materials & Techniques
Harakeke, muka, wool or mopstring,
Colours – earth tones- deep greens, grey, red/clay that represent the land in both the Yorkshire Dales and Aotearoa.
Technique – maybe tāniko? Have I got time?? Or can I incorporate some taniko into a harakeke woven panel? I want to leave the bottom of it long, with a flowing, unwoven fringe to represent that I am still growing my understanding and constantly learning – I would use a poutama pattern to show my learning.
