Art &

Oceania: Case Studies

University of Toronto, 2021

Contents

Brett Graham and Rachel Rakena: Āniwaniwa 1 Anna Yermolina tahiri ra’a 4 Sibel Isikdemir

Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi: Veiloto Haukulasi 7 Anna Yermolina

Michael Parekowhai: Kiss the Baby Goodbye 10 Dina Theleritis

Lisa Reihana: In Pursuit of Venus [Infected] 13 Charlotte Koch

Greg Semu: Auto Portrait with 12 Disciples 16 Yang Zhou

Ralph Hotere:Dawn/Water Poem 18 Rowyn Campbell

Mathias Kauage: Independence 21 Yang Zhou

Brett Graham: Snitch 23 Megan Brohm

Maika’i Tubbs: Stepping Stones 26 Charlotte Koch

Michel Tuffrey Filipe Tohi: Pisupo lua afe 29 Sibel Isikdemir

Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies

Brett Graham and Rachel Rakena: Āniwaniwa

Anna Yermolina

Āniwaniwa, Brett Graham (1967-) and Rachael Rakena (1969-), 2007, Aotearoa (New Zealand), multimedia sculptural installation, dimensions variable.

Āniwaniwa (2007) is a multimedia sculptural installation co-created by Brett Graham (Ngāti Korokī Kahukura, Pākehā) and Rachael Rakena (Ngāpuhi and Ngāi Tahu). The term “āniwaniwa” has several overlapping meanings, all of which give insight into the symbolism of this artwork. The term can mean “the blackness of deep water, storm clouds, a state of bewilderment, a sense of disorientation, and confusion as one is tossed beneath the waters” as well as a rainbow as a symbol of hope.1 The term is also a place name for a set of rapids at Waikato River’s narrowest point. This is where Graham’s grandfather’s village of Horahora was located before it was flooded in 1947 following the creation of a new hydroelectric power station downstream at Karapiro.2 Āniwaniwa can be viewed as an illustration of the Māori connection to

1 Alice Hutchison,“Introduction,” in Āniwaniwa Catalogue, 52nd International Art Exhibition La Biennale di Venezia, 2007, http://www.brettgraham.co.nz/photos/tangaroa-water/brett- graham-aniwaniwa-catalogue.pdf. 2 Ibid., 3.

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Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies water, as well as a way to process the forced displacement and migration of the people living at Horahora from their homeland.

Āniwaniwa consists of five sculptural vessels suspended from the ceiling. These sculptures were carved by Graham and represent wakahuia, which are treasure boxes or vessels meant to contain precious objects in order to protect their mana.3 In this context, these vessels may be seen to preserve the memories and spiritual connection to a lost ancestral land.

The vessels contain screens that face downwards towards the floor and project visual clips and sound recordings filmed by Rakena of underwater scenes. Some of the scenes simply show objects like powerlines, unfinished weaving, or hanging laundry, while others show submerged human actors in eighteenth century clothing going about routine activities.4 These actors exhibit the desire to hold on to a formerly normal way of life. For example, one of the actors is a woman trying to light a fire while wearing mourning clothes. Fire is often seen as a “metaphor for a culture being quietly sustained” wherein the fire represents “the occupation and therefore ownership of land, which has been maintained through generations.”5 The submerged woman is unable to light the fire, however, which speaks to the theme of cultural loss. These images seem to explore Rakena’s interest in Māori identity in relation to land as “being in a state of flux, a fluidity that like the borders of a river, [is] constantly changing, likened to intangible cyberspace digital networks.”6

Viewers are meant to observe the work by lying down on mats placed under the suspended sculptures in a dimly lit room. This unusual method of viewing disorients the typical gallery experience, while the act of watching a projection in a dark room creates the sense of being enveloped or submerged by the projected images. This sensory experience represents āniwaniwa the disorientation that follows being thrown into water reminding viewers of the forced displacement of the Māori of Ngati Koroki Kahukura from their homeland and the literal and figurative submersion of their histories.

The carving on the exterior of the vessels evokes the pattern of coral reefs, while their dark colour suggests that they are “unearthly” and originating from the darkest depths of the ocean.7 This form may reference to the ways in which rising sea levels caused by global warming are diluting the acidity of ocean water and causing the widespread devastation of coral reefs, while also submerging many low-

3 Alice Hutchison,“Introduction,” in Āniwaniwa Catalogue, 3. 4 “Brett Graham and Rachael Rakena: Āniwaniwa,” City Gallery Wellington, 2008, https://citygallery.org.nz/exhibitions/brett-graham-and-rachael-rakena-aniwaniwa/ 5 Ibid., 4. 6 Alice Hutchison,“Introduction,” 2. 7 “Brett Graham and Rachael Rakena: Āniwaniwa,” City Gallery Wellington

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Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies lying Pacific islands like the Tuvalu group.8 This reminder of the disastrous effects of climate change expands the meaning of the work to universal concerns, and it held particular weight when the piece was first exhibited at the Venice Biennale of 2007.

References

Hutchison, Alice. “Introduction.” in Āniwaniwa Catalogue. 52nd International Art Exhibition La Biennale di Venezia, 2007. http://www.brettgraham.co.nz/photos/tangaroa-water/brett- graham-aniwaniwa-catalogue.pdf.

“Brett Graham and Rachael Rakena: Āniwaniwa.” City Gallery Wellington. 2008. https://citygallery.org.nz/exhibitions/brett- graham-and-rachael-rakena-aniwaniwa/

8 Alice Hutchison,“Introduction,” in Āniwaniwa Catalogue, 4.

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Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies tahiri ra’a Sibel Isikdemir

tahiri ra’a, early–mid-19th century, Rurutu or Tupua'I Island of the Austral Islands, Wood, coconut fiber, human hair, The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

This tahiri ra’a (usually translated to fly whisk) from the Austral Islands in French Polynesia dates from the early to mid 19th century. It is a ritual object meant to be fanned rapidly in a circular motion to prompt the gods to cross over from their spiritual world to our human world.1 In its original context, this whisk was spun by priests in ritual ceremonies to call on deities2 and to help them transition from the dark, spirit world called te po to the world of light and life of te ao.3 These rituals were done in special religious precincts. Polished pearl shells were bound to the tahiri’s fibers which would jingle as they hit each other and reflected light to create an appropriate atmosphere for summoning the gods.4

1 Maia Nuku, ATEA: Nature and Divinity in Polynesia, The Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin, v.76, no. 3 (Winter, 2019), 38, https://www.metmuseum.org/art/metpublications/Atea_Nature_and_Divinity_in_Polynesia. 2 Khan Academy, “Fly Whisk.” 3 Nuku, ATEA, 41. 4 The Met, “Flywhisk.”

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Great care can be observed from the attention to detail in its formal characteristics, which complement its function as a sacred object. To start, there are two distinctly colored fibres binding the wooden handle: brown human hair and red/yellow coconut fiber.5 Genealogical significance lies in the use of these materials with the hair symbolizing connection between chiefs and their ancestors.6 The weaving together of human hair and coconut fibers can be interpreted as the literal representation of the spiritual and human realms mixing together when spun.7 The feather-like whisk at the bottom is made of springy coconut fibers twisted together.8

The filial on top is carved into an abstracted figure that represents an early deified ancestor.9 Its hands are clasped together, and its long face and nose is a proboscis shape. Its facial features are simplified to one brow, and the two notches on its head evoke a hairstyle common to male chiefs.10 Another prominent feature of the carving is its protruding navel which alludes to the belief that the stomach was where knowledge was contained (as opposed to the head).11 When viewed from the side, one can see how the figure has two heads and two sets of limbs. It represents one singular figure in motion, and this visual duplicity would have enhanced the appearance of movement when the tahiri was rotated.12 Additionally, there is a column of disks below the figure echoing its feet, further expressing a spinning movement visually.

Tahiri means to spin,13 which is a fitting name for an object dynamic both in form and function. The terms “fly whisk” and “fan” were attributed to it by early European explorers due to its resemblance to such objects. However, it is clear from its careful craftsmanship and sacred purpose that it is not such a mundane item. The use of a whisking device for divine ceremonies can be explained by how closely linked the theme of dynamism is to images of Polynesian gods and ritual practices.14 Even atua, the collective term for Polynesian deities, refers to a repeated revolving movement around a central axis,15 reinforcing this strong connection. Thus, the fly whisk is a medium to facilitate communication with ancestral spirits through

5 “Fly Whisk (tahiri ra’a), Austral Islands,” Khan Academy, accessed October 18, 2020, 5:20, https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/art-oceania/oceania-peoples-and- places/polynesia/v/tahiri-austral. 6 “Flywhisk (tahiri ra’a),” The Metropolitan Museum, accessed October 18, 2020, https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/313676. 7 Khan Academy, “Fly Whisk.” 8 Nuku, ATEA, 41. 9 The Met, “Flywhisk.” 10 Ibid. 11 Khan Academy, “Fly Whisk.” 12 Nuku, ATEA, 41. 13 Khan Academy, “Fly Whisk.” 14 Nuku, ATEA, 38. 15 Nuku, ATEA, 41.

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Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies dynamic ritual practice. However, its materiality also derives from matter imbued with mana that not only makes it a bridge to the other realm, but a part of the cosmological framework itself.

References Khan Academy. “Fly Whisk (Tahiri), Austral Islands.” Video. https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/art-oceania/oceania- peoples-and-places/polynesia/v/tahiri-austral.

The Metropolitan Museum. “Flywhisk (tahiri ra’a).” Accessed October 18, 2020. https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/313676.

Nuku, Maia. ATEA: Nature and Divinity in Polynesia. The Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin, v.76, no. 3 (Winter, 2019). https://www.metmuseum.org/art/metpublications/Atea_Nature_and_ Divinity_in_Polynesia.

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Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies

Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi: Veiloto Haukulasi

Anna Yermolina

Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi is a Tufuga Lalava, a master craftsman in the Tongan traditional art of lalava—the art of binding (or lashing) with coconut sennit. Since he became a full-time artist in 1990, Tohi has been recognized on an international level through numerous exhibitions and has produced commissioned public sculptures around the world. Tohi instills his Pacific Island heritage in his artworks, while also reimagining traditions by implementing contemporary methods and ideas so as to experiment with the lines between his Pacific cultural identity and modernity.

Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi (1959-), Veiloto, Haukulasi c. 2009, Aotearoa (New Zealand), wool and nails on wood panel, 1200 x 600mm. Image source: http://www.lalava.net/index.php/archive.

Lalava, also known as Haukafa, is a Tonagn binding technology for tools, houses, and canoes. It is traditionally done with kafa processed coconut fibre (sennit) in two contrasting colors (often black and beige or red) woven together. Tohi studied the intricate geometric designs of lalava patterns to understand the language and symbolism hidden within its many layers; its elaborate line-space intersections hold important visual histories of Tonga recorded by preceding Tufunga Lalava.1 Tohi recreates these patterns in various modes in his own contemporary practice according to a system that he calls “lalavaometry.”2 He believes lalava patterns represent the balance of daily life as well as literal and metaphorical ties to Tongan cultural

1 Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi.” Tautai Guiding Pacific Arts. Accessed October 21, 2020. https://archive.tautai.org/artist/sopolemalama-filipe-tohi/#prettyphoto[group]/4/. 2 Ibid.

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Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies knowledge. He says lalava contains a "visual language” that was not only used by ancestors for voyaging, but that also “communicated principles of cultural knowledge and history” because for him “the sennit patterns of the Pacific convey our memories and experiences as well as carry us from place to place.”3

Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi, Veiloto, Haukulasi c. 2009, detail. Image source: https://archive.tautai.org/artist/sopolemalama-filipe- tohi/#prettyphoto[group]/4/.

One reimagining of lalava is a practice invented by Tohi called Haukulasi, wherein traditional Haukafa binding patterns are translated from round posts bound with sennit to flat, wooden surfaces decorated in coloured wool with nails as separators and supports. The Veiloto pattern is shown in the example of Haukulasi above. The Veiloto pattern is derived from the Veimau pattern, a similar lashing design of Tohi’s that resembles a clean checkerboard. The wool for the Veiloto pattern is bound to form a geometric grid that is oriented diagonally so that the grid squares are positioned like diamonds and represent stars. This grid pattern references other forms employed by Pacific peoples’ that were designed to show the positions of islands and ocean swells so that navigators were able to voyage between islands. The dimensionality of the Veiloto pattern further recalls this tradition in how the centres of the squares concave inwards while the corners seem peaked outwards, mimicking the swelling flux of ocean waves. These references speak further also to the theme of migration and to Tohi’s notion that lalava acts as a carrier of knowledge and identity over the expanse of these great spaces and physical movements.

3 “Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi.” Tautai Guiding Pacific Arts. Accessed October 21, 2020. https://archive.tautai.org/artist/sopolemalama-filipe-tohi/#prettyphoto[group]/4/.

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This Veiloto Haukulasi uses red and black wool in an alternating arrangement of squares that are either plain red or black, or a crisscrossed combination of the two. Tohi favours the use of wool because it is available in a variety of vibrant colours, allowing him to “experiment with optical play.”4 By bringing this practice to a contemporary art environment, Tohi renegotiates traditional signifiers of cultural identity in order to create a complex representation of what the modern Tongan identity and experience looks like today.

Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi, The Asia Pacific Triennial of Contemporary Art, image source: https://architectureau.com/articles/apt7-at-goma/

References

“Archive.” Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi. Accessed October 21, 2020. http://www.lalava.net/index.php/archive.

“Lalava List.” Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi. Accessed October 21, 2020. http://www.lalava.net/index.php/ct-menu-item-17#2.

“Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi.” Tautai Guiding Pacific Arts. Accessed October 21, 2020. https://archive.tautai.org/artist/sopolemalama- filipe-tohi/#prettyphoto[group]/4/.

4 Lalava List.” Sopolemalama Filipe Tohi. Accessed October 21, 2020. http://www.lalava.net/index.php/ct-menu-item- 17?highlight=WyJvcHRpY2FsIiwicGxheSIsIm9wdGljYWwgcGxheSJd

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Michael Parekowhai: Kiss the Baby Goodbye

Dina Theleritis

Michael Parekowhai, Kiss the Baby Goodbye, 1994, Powder-coated steel, Each: 4600 x 3600 mm (entire piece), Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tāmaki

Appropriation of Māori cultural material by Pākehā (NZ of European descent) artists was a critical issue of 1990s art in Aotearoa/New Zealand. Michael Parekowhai added to this debate with Kiss the Baby Goodbye, a reworking and reconsideration of Gordon Walter’s painting Kahukura (1968). Parekowhai’s response takes the form of a black enamel powder-coated steel sculpture of a giant kitset model, similar to that of a child’s small toy model, with pieces ready to be snapped out for assembling. Walters’ piece is considered by some as appropriation, and in turn Parekowhai’s work is read as “reappropriation,” but these terms may be too simplistic when applied to complex cultural markers and exchanges: Kiss the Baby Goodbye goes beyond reappropriation.

In Kahukura, Walters used the koru (unfurling fern motif)—for which he was heavily criticized—two-dimensionally, while Parekowhai presents the koru in three-dimensional form. This switch from the two-dimensional surface of Walter’s painting to a three-dimensional structure brings the piece into the viewer’s physical space, thus making its own independent statements about place and ownership.

In considering the initial communicative content of the piece, Parekowhai could be drawing on the legacy of the ready-mades of Duchamp, asking the viewer to consider art as play, and asking the viewer to take an active approach in conceptually completing the work of art (by drawing on the assembly of kitsets as an analogy for

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Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies that).1 These points are relevant and valid but stop short of a more fulsome analysis, which must consider language and Māori culture in art and society at large.

Paintings of Kowhaiwhai (Māori motifs that tell a story, with each motif having its own meaning) are commonly found on the rafters of whare tupuna (tribal meeting houses); they function as “elements of meeting houses in which ancestral presences were embodied” and in which the rafters “recapitulated a founder's ribs.”2 It is hard to ignore how the linear, architectural, metal patterning of Parekowhai’s sculpture echoes the architectural structure of such rafters and, thus, displays an indirect nod to Māori ancestral spaces. Consider also the use of steel by Parekowhai, which is suggestive of strength, the materiality of construction, and permanence. The weight and power of Parekowhai’s steel kitset seems to provoke Walters with the question, “You think that this (appropriation) is a game?”

This solid (steel) anchoring of Parekowhai’s piece in such a statement elevates Māori art and culture above and beyond the borrowing of their indigenous aesthetics by Pakeha artists; it is a taking back and overt assertion of Māori power and it is the proclamation that Māori art is not a passive presence.3 Though there is no text included in this piece, there are elements of language that support the statement Parekowhai is making, and these cannot be overlooked. Parekowhai includes a second circle in the bottom right corner of the second panel (a deviation from Walter’s painting), which “looks like a period or full stop.”4 This punctuation suggests a finality and a “full stop” to the statements that Parekowhai is making—a having the last word of sorts—and circles back to the title of the piece that tells Pākehā to kiss the debate goodbye and to give indigenous cultural appropriation a rest.

1 Robert Leonard, “Michael Parekowhai: Kiss the Baby Goodbye,” Robert Leonard Contemporary Art Writer and Curator, November 11, 2020, https://robertleonard.org/michael- parekowhai-kiss-the-baby-goodbye/. 2 Nicholas Thomas, “Kiss the Baby Goodbye: ‘Kowhaiwhai’ and Aesthetics in Aotearoa New Zealand,” Critical Inquiry, 22, no. 1 (1995): 90–121. 3 Rangihiroa Panoho, “Maori: At the Centre, On the Margins,” in Headlands: Thinking Through New Zealand Art (Sydney: Museum of Contemporary Art, 1992), 123–28. 4 Ibid., note 2.

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References: Leonard, Robert. “Michael Parekowhai: Kiss the Baby Goodbye.” November 11, 2020, https://robertleonard.org/michael-parekowhai-kiss-the-baby-goodbye/. Panoho, Rangihiroa. “Maori: At the Centre, On the Margins,” in Headlands: Thinking Through New Zealand Art (Sydney: Museum of Contemporary Art, 1992), 123–28. Thomas, Nicholas. “Kiss the Baby Goodbye: ‘Kowhaiwhai’ and Aesthetics in Aotearoa New Zealand.” Critical Inquiry, 22, no. 1 (1995): 90–121.

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Lisa Reihana: In Pursuit of Venus [Infected]

Charlotte Koch

Lisa Reihana, In Pursuit of Venus [Infected], 2015, multimedia digital video. Excerpts of the video installation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WmMRF5nw9UI

Lisa Reihana (Ngāpuhi, Ngāti Hine, Ngāi Tū) first exhibited In Pursuit of Venus [Infected], between 2015-2017.1 It was first displayed in the Auckland Art Gallery, followed by the New Zealand pavilion at the 2017 Venice Biennale before travelling to the Royal Academy of Arts in London, and then on to its current location at the Art Gallery of Ontario for the 2019 Toronto Art Biennial.2 This vibrant and monumental installation is emblematic of the resilience of indigenous Māori and Pacific culture despite a history of violent colonial suppression.

In Pursuit of Venus [Infected] is a 22.5-metre-wide and 64-minute- long video art installation running the length of an entire enclosed gallery wall.3 The video pans from left to right across an idyllic populated landscape to create what Reihana calls a “panoramic pantomime.”4 It features roughly 70 vignettes depicting various Polynesian cultural practices and interactions between Polynesians and Europeans. It is set to a complex soundscape by James Pinker featuring various languages and music indigenous to the Pacific Islands.5 The sounds are synced to scroll across the gallery with the people and events that are producing it to create a wholly immersive experience, changing the viewers perception depending on where

1 "Lisa Reihana: In Pursuit of Venus [infected]." Art Gallery of Ontario. 2 Smallman, Etan. "Why I Made Captain Cook Lose His Breeches: Lisa Reihana on Her Colonial Video Epic." The Guardian. October 15, 2018. 3 Smallman, Etan. "Why I Made Captain Cook Lose His Breeches: Lisa Reihana on Her Colonial Video Epic." The Guardian. 4 "Lisa Reihana: In Pursuit of Venus [infected]." Art Gallery of Ontario. 5 Smallman, Etan. "Why I Made Captain Cook Lose His Breeches: Lisa Reihana on Her Colonial Video Epic." The Guardian.

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Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies they are in the room.6 This audio component, combined with the monumental size of the installation, places the viewer in the landscape and on the same footing as the life-sized figures depicted.

Reihana’s artwork references an early 19th century French wallpaper design by Jean-Gabriel Charvet entitled Les Sauvages de la Mer Pacifique. This wallpaper is based on accounts of Captain James Cook’s trips to Tahiti, New Zealand and elsewhere in Polynesia, as well as on popular colonial landscape paintings of the time. 7 The landscape in Reihana’s installation stays still, its trees are painted in the same style as the 19th century picturesque landscapes found in the Charvet wallpaper. The wallpaper however, serving a decorative rather than ethnographic function, is full of inaccuracies. These extend from the choice to include plants only found in South America, or the choice to dress these figures in neoclassical Grecian clothing, to the perpetuation of harmful stereotypes of Pacific peoples.8 Colonial art from this time period often places indigenous bodies in fictional landscapes to be sold to a European consumer, therefore commodifying colonial misrepresentations of Pacific culture.9

Reihana’s installation seeks to reclaim that culture. It frames scenes of the resulting colonial violence (physical and cultural) against Pacific peoples, as well as traditional Polynesian ceremonial practices, in the context of the same utopian and fetishizing landscape of the wallpaper.10 She seeks to correct the depictions of Māori and Pacific peoples in the Charvet wallpaper by bringing them to life. This is accomplished though a more accurate context and clothing benefitted by precise cultural knowledge, and also by giving them agency though movement, dialogue, depictions of cultural exchange and exposition of their culture. The installation contrasts the stereotypical nature of the landscape with the acute realism of the figures in the video.11 This undeniably modern medium also emphasizes that Māori and Pacific culture has roots in the past and is very much alive in the present, having adapted to new technologies to promote cultural heritage.

In summary, Lisa Reihana’s In Pursuit of Venus [Infected] harnesses 21st century innovations in media to reimagine a 19th century

6 Smallman, Etan. "Why I Made Captain Cook Lose His Breeches: Lisa Reihana on Her Colonial Video Epic." The Guardian. 7 Ibid. 8 Gifford, Adam. "Lisa Reihana: Close Encounters of the Pacific Kind." NZ Herald. August 26, 2017. 9 "Lisa Reihana: In Pursuit of Venus [infected]." Auckland Art Gallery. 10 Smallman, Etan. "Why I Made Captain Cook Lose His Breeches: Lisa Reihana on Her Colonial Video Epic." The Guardian. 11 "In20: Exhibitions: In Pursuit of Venus." ImagineNATIVE.

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Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies depiction of Polynesian culture. It is a reflection on the complexities and horrors of colonial relationships and seeks to reclaim history from a Pacific perspective.

References

Brettkelly-Chalmers, Kate. "Lisa Reihana." Ocula. August 07, 2020. Accessed October 01, 2020. https://ocula.com/magazine/conversations/lisa-reihana/.

Gifford, Adam. "Lisa Reihana: Close Encounters of the Pacific Kind." NZ Herald. August 26, 2017. Accessed October 01, 2020. https://www.nzherald.co.nz/visual- arts/news/article.cfm?c_id=355&objectid=11442264.

"In20: Exhibitions: In Pursuit of Venus." ImagineNATIVE. Accessed October 01, 2020. https://imaginenative.org/in20-exhibitions-ago- in-pursuit-of-venus.

"Lisa Reihana at Art Gallery of Ontario." Toronto Biennial of Art. Accessed October 01, 2020. https://torontobiennial.org/work/lisa- reihana-at-ago/.

"Lisa Reihana: In Pursuit of Venus [infected]." Art Gallery of Ontario. Accessed October 01, 2020. https://ago.ca/exhibitions/lisa- reihana-pursuit-venus-infected.

"Lisa Reihana: In Pursuit of Venus [infected]." Auckland Art Gallery. Accessed October 01, 2020. https://www.aucklandartgallery.com/whats-on/exhibition/in- pursuit-of-venus-infected?q=/whats-on/exhibition/in-pursuit-of- venus-infected.

Smallman, Etan. "Why I Made Captain Cook Lose His Breeches: Lisa Reihana on Her Colonial Video Epic." The Guardian. October 15, 2018. Accessed October 01, 2020. https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2018/oct/15/lisa- reihana-in-pursuit-of-venus-infected-oceania-royal-academy- london.

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Greg Semu: Auto Portrait with 12 Disciples

Yang Zhou

Greg Semu, Auto Portrait with 12 Disciples, 2010

In 2010, Greg Semu created the digital work Auto Portrait with 12 Disciples. This photograph was produced in New Caledonia, and is a digital C-Type print. The purpose of this photographic series is to explore the effects of colonization and engage in wider conversations about Pacific history, diaspora, and issues of representation.

Greg Semu is a New Zealand-born photographer of Samoan descent. Semu’s works often incorporate both Christian and Samoan imagery. Semu has a similar series of photography entitled “Battle of the Noble Savage,” which re-enacts scenes from fictitious battles. Semu’s photographic practice directly references historical art. Auto Portrait with 12 Disciples quotes the iconic 15th century fresco, The Last Supper, by Leonardo da Vinci, and “Battle of the Noble Savages” refers to French history paintings, such as those by Jacques Louis David of Napoleon.1 Semu often collaborates with local Indigenous peoples to recreate this imagery.

Auto Portrait with 12 Disciples is a complex work. Semu is not only the photographer but the subject too, as he embodies the central Christ

1 Steve Dow, “Greg Semu uses Samoan tattoo and Christian iconography to start a conversation.” Art Guide Australia. (2016, October 6). Retrieved from https://artguide.com.au/greg-semu-uses-samoan-tattoo-and-christian-iconography-to-start- a-conversation; Greg Semu, “Battle of the Noble Savage,” 2007, Retrieved from http://www.gregsemu.photography/battle-of-the-noble-savage

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Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies figure from the Last Supper. In this rendition, Semu is surrounded by local Kanak actors as the 12 disciples, and is set before a feast of traditional Samoan food. The work uses humour to critique the colonial legacy in the Pacific,

References

Dow, Steve. “Greg Semu uses Samoan tattoo and Christian iconography to start a conversation”. Art Guide Australia. (2016, October 6). Retrieved from https://artguide.com.au/greg-semu-uses-samoan- tattoo-and-christian-iconography-to-start-a-conversation

Semu, Greg, (2010). Auto Portrait with 12 Disciples (from the series The Last Cannibal Supper, Cause Tomorrow We Become Christians). http://www.gregsemu.photography/battle-of-the-noble-savage

Semu, Greg. (2007). Battle of the Noble Savage. Retrieved from http://www.gregsemu.photography/battle-of-the-noble-savage

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Ralph Hotere:Dawn/Water Poem

Rowyn Campbell

Ralph Hotere’s “Dawn/Water Poem” is a series of anti-nuclear paintings inspired by Bill Manhire’s minimalist poem of the same name. Its concluding piece, Dawn/Water Poem III, serves both as a warning against the testing of nuclear weapons, and as a visually exciting finale in the context of the first two works. These paintings were created during the long period of French nuclear testing in the Pacific, specifically at the Mururoa and Fangataufa atolls, and refer to the experiences of those personally affected by the project.

The National Library of New Zealand's website states: “The Ralph Hotere, Dawn/Water Poem III, 1986, three-word poem by Bill Acrylic on canvas, Christchurch Art Gallery, Manhire ... is printed twice on Aotearoa/New Zealand each recto, once at the top of the page in lower case letters, once again at the bottom in upper case, but the A in dawn is missing.”1 A connection can be drawn between the words ‘dawn’and ‘water’ to images of a ‘nuclear sunrise’ above the Pacific Ocean. Perhaps the missing ‘A’ in the poem could stand for ‘atomic,’ ‘atoll,’ or ‘Aotearoa,’ the homeland of both the poet and the artist.

Miriam Kahn’s investigation of the relationship between French nuclear testing and the idealization of French Polynesia (specifically in images of tropical scenery and beautiful women displayed on Tahitian postcards) provides important context for this analysis.1 Kahn writes that in 1994, president Gaston Flosse forbade government agencies to “use any images of French Polynesia that were not produced by the government agency Institut de la Communication Audio-Visuelle.”2 This allowed French officials to use their economic and political power to

1 National Library of New Zealand. “Dawn/water text by Bill Manhire; images by Andrew Drummond.” 2 Miriam Kahn. “Tahiti Intertwined: Ancestral Land, Tourist Postcard, and Nuclear Test Site,” American Anthropologist, Vol. 102, No. 1 (2000): 7-26.

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Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies paint a highly romanticized portrait of Tahiti, covering up their exploitation of the land and its people. It may be coincidental that the first Polynesian tourism boom coincided with the start of nuclear testing in the region, but the French certainly used this concurrence to their advantage. This issue of deceptive visual representation amplifies the need for sincerity in images regarding the Pacific, a need which Ralph Hotere fulfills in his Dawn/Water series.

The work in focus, Dawn/Water Poem III, stands out from the series as an expression of outrage. The ‘X’ on red should at first convey a sense of unyielding opposition and anger, but its form is actually weakened against the striking backdrop. Perhaps Hotere’s warning has come and gone unnoticed, his protests muffled by the sounds of nuclear destruction and by the propaganda of those who wield its apocalyptic power. This would align the emotion of Dawn/Water Poem III more closely with the works that preceded it, culminating in a potent mixture of red anger and black grief. Adding to this sense of mourning is Hotere’s use of the name ‘Mururoa,’ one of the affected French Polynesian atolls. This name appears several times down the middle of the piece, emerging from the blocky ‘SUNRISE’ text at the top. Here ‘SUNRISE’ appears to be stamped, as if someone has attempted to formally imbue the nuclear project with positive connotations. Hotere’s choice to then paint ‘MURUROA’ in a messier, more intimate handwritten style alludes to the ‘realness’ of the situation and the innocence of those affected. The meaning of the numbers floating along the black border is less clear, but they may symbolize the rise in casualties from nuclear testing and warfare, or possibly be counting down to a worldwide nuclear apocalypse.

The most noticeable difference between this work and the first two in the series is the switch from muted, gloomy greys and blues to this brilliant scarlet. All three works have the ‘SUNRISE’ motif, and the ‘X’ in Poem III is carried over from Poem II. There is a gradual shift in mood throughout the series, starting with Poem I’s relatively neutral response, in which the only obvious emotional representation (in red and white) appears to be crushed underneath a dismal block of grey. Poem II is mournful and incorporates the familiar ‘X’ warning symbol. Hotere’s use of blue here evokes imagery of the Pacific Ocean, the brushstrokes suggesting crashing waves or perhaps the physical movement of wildlife.

Poem III works well in its political context, but analyzing it as part of a series can uncover so much more about the artist’s process and intentions. Only with the stylistic choices of Hotere’s first two works in mind can the passion displayed in Dawn/Water Poem III be fully appreciated. This buildup of emotion not only results in a Ralph Hotere, Dawn/Water Poem II, 1985, visually satisfying series of artworks, but it also Acrylic on canvas, The Fletcher Trust Collection, Aotearoa/New Zealand reflects the anxiety experienced worldwide throughout and after the major decades of nuclear testing.

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References New Zealand History. “Nuclear testing in the Pacific.” Accessed October 17, 2020. https://nzhistory.govt.nz/politics/nuclear-free-new- zealand/testing-in-the-pacific

Kirchhof, Astrid Mignon; Meyer, Jan-Henrik. “Global Protest against Nuclear Power. Transfer and Transnational Exchange in the 1970s and 1980s.” In Historical Social Research Vol. 39, No. 1 (147), 165-190. 2014. Accessed October 16, 2020. http://www.jstor.org/stable/24145787

National Library of New Zealand. “Dawn/water text by Bill Manhire; images by Andrew Drummond.” Accessed October 17, 2020. https://natlib.govt.nz/records/21804094

Thakur, Ramesh. “The Last Bang before a Total Ban: French Nuclear Testing in the Pacific.” In International Journal Vol. 51, No. 3, 466-86. 1996. Accessed October 17, 2020. https://www.jstor.org/stable/40203124?seq=1#metadata_info_tab_con tents

Radio New Zealand International. “Former French Polynesian president Flosse gets suspended jail sentence for corruption.” June 2006. Accessed November 3, 2020. https://www.rnz.co.nz/international/pacific-news/162869/former- french-polynesia n-president-flosse-gets-suspended-jail-sentence-for- corruption

Kahn, Miriam. “Tahiti Intertwined: Ancestral Land, Tourist Postcard, and Nuclear Test Site.” In American Anthropologist, Vol. 102, No. 1, 7-26. 2000

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Mathias Kauage: Independence Celebration 4

Yang Zhou

Mathias Kauage, Independence Celebration 4, 1975. Stencil, National Gallery of Australia, Canberra.

Mathias Kauage, a Papua New Guinean artist, created Independence Celebration 4 in 1975. This print was produced in Port Moresby, Papua New Guinea. Printmaking was increasingly used by artists in Papua New Guinea in the late 1960s and reached its peak of popularity the 1970s. Printmaking is often used to present strong and vibrant images, and early examples continue to resonate with audiences today. The inspiration for this work stemmed from a specific period of social, political, and artistic change in Papua New Guinea.

The National Gallery of Australia has described Mathias Kauage as “Papua New Guinea’s best-known contemporary artist.”1 Kauage was a joint winner of the Blake prize for Religious Art in 1987, and in 1997 he was awarded by Queen Elizabeth II for his services to art. Kauage first became a professional artist by working in acrylics, metalwork, drawing

1 Melanie Eastburn, “Imagining Papua New Guinea,” National Gallery of Australia, https://nga.gov.au/imagining/essay.cfm#:~:text=Now%20Papua%20New%20Guinea's%20best,f or%20his%20services%20to%20art.

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Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies and printmaking in the 1970s. His style has been described as ‘lively’, witty’, full of ‘exuberance and vibrancy.’2

After generations of colonial rule, Papua New Guinea established its independence in 1975 as a free nation. At this time Mathias Kauage created this series of stories and images, both traditional and imaginary, to express the emergence of new forms of artwork in Papua New Guinea and to celebrate its independence.

The artist’s themes center around the common thread of navigating post-colonial life in Papua New Guinea. Kauage’s artwork provides a much-needed platform to engage the public on the history of Papua New Guinea and to celebrate the independence of Indigenous communities.

References

Eastburn, Melanie. “Imagining Papua New Guinea,” National Gallery of Australia, https://nga.gov.au/imagining/essay.cfm#:~:text=Now%20Papua%2 0New%20Guinea's%20best,for%20his%20services%20to%20art. Accessed October 2020.

Gore, Charles. “Review of Kauage's Visions: Art from Papua New Guinea.” Journal of Museum Ethnography No. 18, (2006): 177-180. http://www.jstor.org/stable/40793824. Accessed October 2020.

2 Charles Gore, “Review of Kauage's Visions: Art from Papua New Guinea,” Journal of Museum Ethnography No. 18, (2006): 177. http://www.jstor.org/stable/40793824.

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Brett Graham: Snitch Megan Brohm

Currently on display at the Honolulu Museum of Art, Brett Graham’s snitch (2014) is a self-proclaimed “tongue-in-cheek” postcolonial commentary.1 This three-foot-tall sculpture is a portrait of Stitch, the adopted alien from the animated Disney film Lilo and Stitch (2002). Intricately carved out of foam, the sculpture is an accurate replication of the Disney character: long, upward-curved ears, large, round eyes, a spherical nose, and straight-lined mouth. The figure holds a frontal stance with slightly Brett Graham, snitch, 2014, Sculpture (Carved bent knees and arms held foam, tar, feathers), 3 ft. Honolulu Museum of Art out with its hands balled into fists. The details of Stitch are impressively rendered, right down to the notches on each ear, but there is one alarming distinction from the original character: Graham’s rendition of Stitch is completely covered in a mixture of black tar and feathers. This unsettling depiction of a beloved character symbolizes the destructive impacts of forced contact between foreigners and Indigenous communities in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, specifically between Americans and Hawaiians.

Based in Tāmaki Makaurau, Aotearoa (Auckland, New Zealand), Brett Graham is a sculptor whose work focuses primarily on exploring “Indigenous histories, politics, and philosophies.”2 For example, works such as Land, Lust, Lost comment on histories of cultural genocide of the Māori people in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.3 Other works address contemporary politics, such as Te Hōkioi, which

1 “'Snitch' meets his maker—artist Brett Graham,” Honolulu Museum of Art, last modified March 22, 2017, https://honolulumuseum.org/stories/2017/03/contemporary-art/snitch- meets-his-maker-artist-brett-graham/. 2 “Haurongo / Bio,” Brett Graham, accessed September 25, 2020, http://www.brettgraham.co.nz/brett-graham-about.html. 3 “Land, Lust, Lost,” Brett Graham, accessed September 25, 2020, http://www.brettgraham.co.nz/brett-graham-land-lust-lost.html.

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Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies references the 2007 New Zealand police raid on the Tuhoe community of Ruatoki.4 His work strives to engage a geographically diverse audience with these past, present, and ultimately ongoing Indigenous injustices, and snitch is no exception to this objective. In fact, the work was originally made for Binding and Looping: Transfer of Presence in Contemporary Pacific Art, an exhibition at the University of Hawai‘i Art Gallery composed of diverse Pacific artists and voices.

In snitch, Graham is illuminating the damaging consequences that American contact had on the Hawaiʻian Islands. In a number of ways, Stitch’s character was a symbolic choice for this project.Stitch is from a Hawaiʻi-based movie that was made by Americans, so the use of this character immediately references the relationship between the two states. Sculpting a famous Disney character is also bound to be recognizable and grab the attention of a diverse audience. Moreover, in depicting the character’s customary frontal stance and thick, wide-set, and short legs, Graham is drawing a parallel with traditional Māori statues of divinities.5 Aside from the character's outward iconography, Stitch’s behaviours are specifically fitting for Graham’s commentary. Anyone who has watched Lilo and Stitch is aware of the character’s inevitably destructive behaviours.6 Thus, Graham’s recreation of Stitch symbolizes the harmful impact foreigners had on Pacific cultures in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the time period in which Hawaiʻi was eventually annexed by Americans. The tar and feathers add another level to this symbolism of destructive contact, as this was an infamous form of punishment during the American Revolution; victims of these attacks were the so-called “traitors” of the Revolution, working against American goals of freedom and independence. Graham’s decision to cover his sculpture in tar and feathers points out the irony in America’s idealization of their pursuit of these goals.7

Graham utilizes a degree of playfulness and humour in snitch that grants the viewer an accessible route to reflection and criticism, as his work breaks the ice and invites conversation regarding America’s problematic treatment of the Hawaiian Islands. Overall, snitch is a strong addition to the ever-growing collection of Pacific postcolonial commentaries, as Graham humorously yet thoughtfully illuminates Indigenous histories and injustices through his art.

4 “Te Hōkioi,” Brett Graham, accessed September 25, 2020, http://www.brettgraham.co.nz/brett-graham-te-hokioi.html. 5 “Take a second glance at Brett Graham’s ‘snitch’,” Honolulu Museum of Art Blog, last modified June 17, 2016, http://blog.honoluluacademy.org/take-a-second-glance-at-brett- grahams-snitch/. 6 Ibid. 7 David A. M. Goldberg, “Binding and Looping: Transfer of Presence in Contemporary Pacific Art,” Asian Diasporic Visual Cultures and the Americas 2, no. 1-2 (March 2016): 156-7.

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References

Brett Graham. “Haurongo / Bio.” Accessed September 25, 2020. http://www.brettgraham.co.nz/brett-graham-about.html. Brett Graham. “Land, Lust, Lost.” Accessed September 25, 2020. http://www.brettgraham.co.nz/brett-graham-land-lust-lost.html.

Brett Graham. “Te Hōkioi.” Accessed September 25, 2020. http://www.brettgraham.co.nz/brett-graham-te-hokioi.html.

Goldberg, David A. M. “Binding and Looping: Transfer of Presence in Contemporary Pacific Art.” Asian Diasporic Visual Cultures and the Americas 2, no. 1-2 (March 2016): 152-157.

Honolulu Museum of Art. “'Snitch' meets his maker—artist Brett Graham.” Last modified March 22, 2017. https://honolulumuseum.org/stories/2017/03/contemporary-art/snitch- meets-his-maker-artist-brett-graham/.

Honolulu Museum of Art Blog. “Take a second glance at Brett Graham’s ‘snitch’.” Last modified June 17, 2016. http://blog.honoluluacademy.org/take-a-second-glance-at-brett- grahams-snitch/.

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Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies

Maika’i Tubbs: Stepping Stones

Charlotte Koch

Maika’i Tubbs is a Hawaiian artist currently living and working in Brooklyn, New York. His artwork entitled Stepping Stones was created in 2016 and displayed as part of an exhibition entitled “Plastic Fantastic” at the Honolulu Museum of Art.1 Tubbs’ work subverts his viewer’s expectations to present a compelling commentary on the environment, overconsumption, and American colonial legacies in Hawaii.

Tubbs works largely in sculpture and installation made from garbage, and Stepping Stones is no exception. It is made of plastic shopping bags, cardboard, Maika'i Tubbs, Stepping Stones, 2015, cigarette butts, food wrappers, multimedia installation plastic containers, junk mail, paper towels, posters, parking tickets, ocean plastic and glue. All of the materials are stuck together in the shape of individual stones and spread out across a gallery floor. Some are cut open to reveal that the inside of the stone is in fact made of bright, unnaturally coloured, trash. Others are left whole to resemble complete rocks. The stones that are cut open are intended to resemble geodes and other natural rock formations.2 During the original installation, these stones were covered with inflated gelatin bubbles which deflated over the course of the exhibition and glowed in the dark when shown under ultraviolet light.3 The bubbles and “trash geodes” were placed on the floor of the exhibition space in a rough line to mimic

1 Travis Hancock, "How Maika'i Tubbs Learned to Turn His Garbage-pile Freakout into Art." .Honolulu Museum of Art Blog - Honolulu Museum of Art Blog. August 29, 2016. 2 Moana Nepia, “About the Artist : Maika’I Tubbs.” The Contemporary Pacific 30, no.1 (2018): VII-XVI 3 Ibid.

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Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies the arrangement of rocks on a beach or along a coastline. The bubbles suggest water in this imaginary landscape, making reference to the beaches in Hawai’i where some of the trash used to create these rocks was collected.

The shape and content of these rocks are inspired by plastiglomerate, a geological term meant to designate the fusion of microplastics and rock or coral. This substance is a by-product of human pollution, which is a theme that Tubbs explores often in his work. He uses recycled material to produce sculptures that appear naturalistic only from afar. These works reference the invasion of unnatural substances into the natural world, and the increasingly hazy border between natural and artificial life. Climate change threatens the existence of many Polynesian islands, islands that must contend with violent storms and rising sea levels, as well as limited landfill space. Tubbs’ 2010 artwork A Life of Its Own, similarly explores the invasion of trash by representing an invasive floral species in Hawai’i. The plant is fashioned from plastic cutlery, another direct-to-landfill product. Tubbs views this as an exploration of what it means to be Hawaiian in the 21st century. The work is a representation of the conflict between Polynesian cultural legacies and American capitalist hyper consumption.4

Stepping Stones ultimately comments on the American appropriation and misuse of Hawaiian land. Tubbs combines the collected trash from Hawaii with garbage compiled from outside his studio in New York.5 Its amalgamation within the rocks emphasises how much America is to blame for the pollution affecting the islands. This is highlighted further through the gelation bubbles around the stones that glow in the dark, giving them a radioactive luminesce.6 These bubbles reference the nuclear testing conducted by Americans that took place in Polynesia throughout the 20th century, an activity that resulted in chemical pollution in addition to the plastic pollution discussed above. Stepping Stones comments on the age of the Anthropocene, referencing the landscapes that are so central to Polynesian cultural identity and critiquing their exploitation by uninvited guests.

4 Travis Hancock, "How Maika'i Tubbs Learned to Turn His Garbage-pile Freakout into Art." .Honolulu Museum of Art Blog - Honolulu Museum of Art Blog. August 29, 2016. 5 Emerson Krull, "Maika'I Tubbs and A Connection to Place." Bates College. January 22, 2019. 6 Moana Nepia, “About the Artist : Maika’I Tubbs.” The Contemporary Pacific 30, no.1 (2018): VII-XVI

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References

Hancock, Travis. "How Maika'i Tubbs Learned to Turn His Garbage-pile Freakout into Art." Honolulu Museum of Art Blog - Honolulu Museum of Art Blog. August 29, 2016. Accessed October 23, 2020. http://blog.honoluluacademy.org/how-makai-tubbs-learned-how-to- turn-his-garbage-pile-freakout-into-art/.

Krull, Emerson. "Maika'I Tubbs and A Connection to Place." Bates College. January 22, 2019. Accessed October 23, 2020. https://www.bates.edu/museum/2019/01/22/maikai-tubbs-and-a- connection-to-place/.

"Maika'i Tubbs." Museum of Arts and Design. 2015. Accessed October 23, 2020. https://madmuseum.org/learn/maika’i-tubbs.

National Gallery of Canada. "National Gallery of Canada Artist Interview: Maika'i Tubbs." June 25, 2013. Accessed October 23, 2020. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8suJYqda-5s.

Nepia, Moana. “About the Artist : Maika’i Tubbs.” The Contemporary Pacific 30, no.1 (2018): VII-XVI doi:10.1353/cp.2018.0001.

"Stepping Stones." Maika'i Tubbs. Accessed October 23, 2020. http://www.maikaitubbs.com/stepping-stones.

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Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies

Michel Tuffrey Filipe Tohi: Pisupo lua afe

Sibel Isikdemir

Pisupo lua afe (Corned Beef 2000) is a sculpture of a bull made of flattened and recycled tin cans. The corned beef cans are fastened together with rivets, and the work stands at 115 cm tall and is the size of a small, life-size bovine.1 The cans are of the brand Golden Country, and are golden yellow, accentuated with red stripes. This piece explores the themes of prevailing colonial legacies and stereotypes in the Pacific, as well as political, health, and environmental issues that communities may face.

Michel Tuffery, Pisupo lua afe (Corned Beef 2000), 1994, mixed media, tin sculpture, 65cm (width) x 115 cm (height) x 217 cm (depth), Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa (Wellington) in the Pacific Cultures collection

1 Pisupo lua afe (Corned beef 2000),” Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa, accessed September 27, 2020, https://collections.tepapa.govt.nz/object/235630.

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Michel Tuffery is a versatile artist who has made not only sculptures but paintings, etchings, and mixed media works pertaining to Pacific culture.2 Pisupo lua afe is one of many tin can cattle sculptures from his “Povi” series (“povi” meaning “bull”). The series critiques the Pacific’s high consumption of imported canned foods and the environmental harm caused by the disposal of these cans.3

“Pisupo” refers to tinned food in Samoan, but the term came from pea soup, the first tinned food that was brought to Samoa during the Colonial Period in the Nineteenth Century.4 It was considered an item of high value and was gifted on special occasions like weddings and funerals by Pacific Islanders. Corned beef is still popular in the Pacific, and Pisupo lua afe additionally comments on health issues related to the product as corned beef is high in cholesterol, sodium and fat.5

Pisupo lua afe was first displayed in the “Bottled Ocean” exhibition at the City Gallery, Wellington, New Zealand in 1994.6 This exhibition displayed contemporary Pacific Island works that drew attention to the problematic stereotypes associated with the idea of Pacific identity as “other.” Tuffrey’s piece was made for this show, which was curated by the artist Jim Vivieaere. The object was displayed behind a Perspex screen, facing the viewer to give it the impression of a commodity behind a window-shop display, alluding to the frequent exotification and commodification of the Pacific.

References

“Bottled Ocean.” City Gallery. Accessed September 27, 2020. https://citygallery.org.nz/exhibitions/bottled-ocean/.

Lythberg, Billie. “Michel Tuffery, Pisupo Lua Afe.” Khan Academy. Accessed September 27, 2020. https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/ap-art-history/pacific- apah/polynesia-apah/a/michel-tuffery-pisupo-lua-af.

2 “Works on Paper,” Michel Tuffery, accessed September 27, 2020, https://micheltuffery.co.nz/portfolio/works-on-paper/. 3 “Povi Series,” Michel Tuffery, accessed September 27, 2020, https://micheltuffery.co.nz/portfolio/sculpture/. 4 Dr. Billie Lythberg, “Michel Tuffery, Pisupo Lua Afe,” Khan Academy, accessed September 27, 2020, https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/ap-art-history/pacific-apah/polynesia- apah/a/michel-tuffery-pisupo-lua-af. 5 Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa, “Pisupo Lua Afe (Corned Beef 2000) - Tales from Te Papa episode 15,” Youtube video, 3:05, October 18, 2011, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VKDXsrEq_mQ. 6 “Bottled Ocean,” City Gallery, accessed September 27, 2020, https://citygallery.org.nz/exhibitions/bottled-ocean/.

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Michel Tuffery. “About Michel Tuffery.” Accessed September 27, 2020. https://micheltuffery.co.nz/about-michel-tuffery/.

Michel Tuffery. “Povi Series.” Accessed September 27, 2020. https://micheltuffery.co.nz/portfolio/sculpture/.

Michel Tuffery. “Works on Paper.” Accessed September 27, 2020. https://micheltuffery.co.nz/portfolio/works-on-paper/.

Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa. “Pisupo lua afe (Corned Beef 2000).” Accessed September 27, 2020. https://collections.tepapa.govt.nz/object/235630.

Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa. “Pisupo Lua Afe (Corned Beef 2000) - Tales from Te Papa episode 15.” Youtube video, 3:05, October 18, 2011. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VKDXsrEq_mQ.

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These case studies were produced for FAH489: Art &Oceania Course Instructor: Brittany Myburgh Participating Students: Megan Brohm, Rowyn Campell, Sibel Isikdemir, Charlotte Koch, Dina Theleritis, Anna Yermolina, Yang Zhou

With thanks to the Re:Locations Journal editors who worked on this special edition: Amelia Brownridge, Laura Facciolo, Shehnoor Khurram, Isabella Li, Kristie Lui, Sneha Mandhan

Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies

Journal: Art & Oceania Case Studies

Megan Brohm, Rowyn Campell, Sibel Isikdemir, Charlotte Koch, Brittany Myburgh, Dina Theleritis, Anna Yermolina, Yang Zhou