Missing Māori Wood Carvings Found After 200 Years
Long lost treasured whakairo rākau located in museums across the globe.
Professor Brown visits one of the eight missing whakairo - a kūwaha pātaka doorway on display at the Ethnological Museum in Berlin, Germany (Source: Supplied)
After being declared forever lost, eight treasured Māori whakairo rākau (traditional wood carvings) have been rediscovered in museums across the world.
Professor Deidre Brown
(Ngāpuhi, Ngāti Kahu), from the University of Auckland’s
School of Architecture and Planning, initiated an eight-year
search for the lost whakairo rākau.
"These taonga are
important because they express a Ngāpuhi spirituality and
world view that was recorded in detail when they were
collected. They are a window into a world before
Christianity and colonisation had made an
impact.”
First acquired by the Church Missionary Society (CMS) in 1823, they are the earliest whakairo to have their spiritual meanings explained by Māori and recorded in writing. Shipped from the Bay of Islands to the Society’s headquarters in London, researchers have unsuccessfully tried to find the whakairo rākau for the past 60 years.
Documenting the process in Waka
Kuaka | The Journal of the Polynesian Society, Brown
uncovered a mid-nineteenth-century catalogue that played a
crucial role in the rediscovery.
The breakthrough came
with the identification of three pieces in a catalogue from
the Musee des missions evangeliques 1867, which was
made available online in 2013.The catalogue showed a
selection of Indigenous art from a missionary exhibit in the
1867 Exposition universelle d’art et d’industrie in
Paris.
Brown found the three whakairo rākau in museums in Switzerland and Germany, which had purchased them from London-based antiquities dealer William Oldman in 1911, who had bought them and others from British soldier Horatio Robley the year before. Further searching uncovered the rest of these carvings in the Canterbury Museum, Brooklyn Museum and Tūhura Otago Museum.
“I noticed that each carving had a Roman number carved into its back that matched Kendall’s list and descriptions, and this helped me find the remaining carvings in other museums, none of which knew their histories before Oldman,” says Brown.
Brown
realised the numbers matched an inventory of whakairo rākau
sent by the missionary Thomas Kendall’s from the Bay of
Islands to London in 1823.
The inventory, with
descriptions of the spiritual meanings of each whakairo
rākau, was published by the late Emeritus Professor Dame
Judith Binney in the late 1960s, who could not find any
trace of the carvings.
“The published meanings have
been highly influential on our understandings of customary
Māori art, and now we have the actual carvings they were
describing” says Brown.
The Roman numbers, previously
unnoticed because little attention had been paid to their
backs, identified the carvings, shedding light on their
significance and origin through the information Māori had
shared with Kendall.
“Kendall was passionate about
communicating Māori knowledge to other Europeans through
the translation of te reo and also these whakairo, which he
had been told by Māori community members contained their
ancestral stories and spiritual understandings.
“His
deep engagement with Māori, which included arms trading,
led to his dismissal by the CMS before the whakairo rākau
had arrived in London.
“This may be why the
whakairo’s origin stories recorded by Kendall became
separated from them, therefore the CMS had lost interest in
him and his work.”
Brown describes the carvings to be
of “exceptional quality”.
“The design and condition
are much larger than the types of whakairo rākau collected
by earlier Europeans.”
They include a tauihu (war canoe
prow) in the Museum Rietberg, Zürich, a kūwaha pātaka
(doorway of a raised storehouse) and poupou (wall carving)
in Berlin’s Ethnologisches Museum, a pare (door lintel) in
Canterbury Museum and another in Brooklyn Museum, and a
taurapa (sternpost) in Tūhura Otago Museum. Another taurapa
that Oldman kept for his private collection, and probably
inscribed with the numeral ‘X’, is still to be located
but is likely in Aotearoa New Zealand.
The discovery is
now sparking a cultural intrigue for Brown. She is
questioning whether the carvings always belonged to the
Ngāpuhi iwi (tribe) of the far north, where Kendall
acquired them and their stories, or had been made in the Bay
of Plenty or East Coast regions, because of their
taratara-a-kae notched carving patterns that are associated
with these areas.
“My guess would be Te Whānau a
Apanui,” she says.
These taonga, among the earliest
sent offshore by Pākehā (Europeans) in Aotearoa New
Zealand, hold deep spiritual meanings for Māori as
described in Kendall's letters and a diagram he drew of the
kūwaha pātaka, which he identified as depicting the
legendary ancestor Nukutawhiti.
Apart from initiating
discussion about who made the whakairo rākau and where this
happened, Brown says that all the museums involved are
excited about the potential of the research to reconnect
these taonga with their whānau.
“And it would be
great to find taurapa or ‘X’ to close the loop,” she
says.
There are more than 16,000 taonga Māori in
overseas museums, most with no information about their
origins.
“This project has shown it is still possible
to reconnect taonga gone for centuries with their
communities using the documents and collection records
increasingly being put online by museums.”
Brown's article, titled "Nukutawhiti Rediscovered: Finding Thomas Kendall’s 1823 Marianna Consignment of Whakairo Rākau (Māori Wood Carvings)," traces the carvings’ survival through many countries, collections and conflicts, including the Musket Wars and both world wars. The research reassociates Kendall’s narratives with the whakairo rākau, linking them to their Ngāpuhi tribal origins.
The research also explores the history of
London-based antiquities dealer William Oldman, who played a
pivotal role in the dispersion of Indigenous objects all
over the world.
Oldman's extensive sales network and
private collection of taonga Māori provide valuable
insights into the movements of these cultural artifacts. The
detailed examination of Oldman’s records, including sales
registers and labels associated with the taonga, sheds light
on their history and connection to the CMS
collection.