Crossing Currents: Episode 6
An interview with Mataaho Collective at the 60th Venice Biennale
Contemporary HUM
03.08.2024
The 60th Venice Biennale is an historic edition for Aotearoa New Zealand. Not only are there the most artists from Aotearoa to ever be included in its curated section, which features over 300 participating artists from around the world, but Aotearoa’s Mataaho Collective took out its top prize for their large-scale woven work Takapau. Originally exhibited at the Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa in Te Whanganui-a-Tara Wellington, Aotearoa, Takapau envelops the entrance to the Venetian Arsenale, where the International Exhibition is held, performing the function of a wharenui (meeting house) as it welcomes visitors across its threshold. Speaking to Contemporary HUM in June 2024, Mataaho Collective discuss the logistics of transforming Takapau for the space of the Arsenale, as well as working within a continuum of contemporary Māori art practice, a whakapapa (genealogy) that situates them alongside the intergenerational contingent of Māori artists presenting at this year’s Biennale. HUM also speaks with artist, writer and researcher Rychèl Thérin about the collective’s educational trajectory and the grounding of their practice within mātauranga Māori (the body of knowledge originating from Māori ancestors.)
This is the sixth of eight interviews in Crossing Currents: Aotearoa New Zealand Artists in Venice, a podcast series produced in 2024 by Contemporary HUM. Listen below or wherever you get your podcasts. This is a transcript of the episode that has been edited for clarity and length.
Terri Te TauKia ora, I'm Terri Te Tau. I live in Pohangina village in the Manawatū, and I'm from the Wairarapa from Rangitāne, Ngāti Kahungunu.
Sarah HudsonKia ora, I'm Sarah. I'm from Ngāti Awa, Ngāi Tūhoe and Ngāti Pūkeko, and I'm here in Whakatāne tonight.
Erena Arapere-BakerKia ora, I'm Erena. I live in Manawatū in Palmerston North, and I'm from Te Atiawa ki Whakarongotai, Ngāti Toa Rangatira and Te Atiawa in the Kapiti Coast.
SHWe've also got another member, Bridget Reweti, who's in Ōtepoti. She's on maternity leave at the moment after the birth of her baby last month.
Contemporary HUMKia ora. Contemporary HUM has followed you from your inclusion in documenta 14 in 2017, Dhaka Art Summit in Bangladesh in 2019, and now, in 2024, you've been awarded the Golden Lion for the Best Participant in the International Exhibition at the Venice Biennale, which is one of the most prestigious art awards in the world. How has everything been for you since coming back to Aotearoa?
SHIt's been good [laughs]. We've taken the last month or so to rest and recover after a really intense first half of the year, getting ready to go to Venice to install. It was the second time we were installing Takapau, but there were still a lot of unknowns.
We're kind of pinching ourselves, going, “It's already June, 2024. How can that be? Where did the year go?” But [it’s been] a bit of nice, wintry, reflective mole time [since] coming back home.
TTTYeah, it was so nice. People are reaching out, friends and family, sending their congratulations and things. We haven't yet been able to get together and celebrate as a group, but we're hoping to at the end of the year.
SHYeah. Maybe in terms of timelines, it will sink in by the time November comes, and we're bringing Takapau back down again.
HUMYou'll need to go back to Venice to de-install the work?
TTTThey would like us to. It's such a complicated install. It's definitely going to be quite a complicated de-install. And we would love that. We would love to be able to go back.
HUMThat would be really special. As you say, it's the second time you've installed this work. The first iteration was in Te Papa (The Museum of New Zealand, Te Whanganui-a-Tara Wellington) in 2022. The curator of Foreigners Everywhere, the International Exhibition of the Biennale, Adriano Pedrosa, saw your work when he was in Aotearoa in 2023. Could you tell us about what it was like meeting him, and how that led to being included in the Biennale?
EABWe didn't actually get to meet Adriano when he came to New Zealand. He obviously saw the work, and then he reached out to us via email after he had returned. He asked if we'd like to meet. It was just a really brief email, which said something along the lines of: “I'm curating the Venice Biennale and would like to discuss Takapau being included in it.” But, we all didn't read the email in a way that was exactly what he was asking. Blasé, [we] went into this Zoom with the curator of the Venice Biennale, just wondering what he wanted to talk to us about [laughs]. It really didn't sink in.As negotiations and discussions over the feasibility of whether that work could go there happened, it wasn't until further down the track that we all looked at each other and said, “Oh, are we actually going to be in the Venice Biennale?” It wasn't because of anything that they were saying. They were definitely clear about it, but it just took a while to sink in.
SHIt definitely did. Also, the amount of engineering and infrastructure that had to be green-lit for it to go ahead was massive. We weren't able to attach to the floor, the walls, the ceiling or the columns. It's a heavy, big bit of engineering, that work. So, there was lots of to and fro between Aotearoa and the Venice team as to how this would work. We had heaps of faith that it would, but Adriano really pushed for that work to be there in the entrance. He saw it at Te Papa and could envision it in his show and really advocated for us to have the space that would really showcase our work in the best way.
TTTIt's so cool to think how he saw the work at Te Papa, thought about it in the way that we intended conceptually [as] a threshold, an entranceway, a place that you cross from one space to another. I guess at that point he probably visualised it for that particular space too, and it was so nice to think that that translated for him.
EABIt [is] cool, knowing that he definitely understood the work and what we were trying to say with [it] initially at Te Papa, and for that to only add to the opening and the entranceway of the Venice Biennale curated exhibition in the Arsenale.
HUMThe work is right at the entrance of the Arsenale. As you walk in, it's right after a work by Yinka Shonibare. It's this massive wharenui-like (meeting house) structure. You were talking before, Sarah, about the complicated logistics you had to take into consideration when transforming the work to fit the space. In what ways did it have to change in order to fit the parameters of that space in the Arsenale?
SHWe didn't see the specifications of the room until a couple of meetings in. The initial ones were like, “We have this work, it's about 12 metres wide [and] 24 metres long. It can be from four metres high. Then, down the line we were shown where it may be, in the Arsenale, and there were these columns there that were pretty intimidating to us. Takapau in some regards represents te whare tangata, a womb, a very feminine space. We were taken aback by the look of these phallic forms potentially bursting through intricate weaving.
I think in one meeting we said, “Would you like another work?” It was quite full on for us, conceptually, to wrestle with what that might look like. After amazing designers and engineers had a look and sent us some models, we ended up flipping the work around, so nothing was piercing it through the pattern. I think that it really brought out the architectural power of the weaving. It definitely feels like a whare (house) with those four columns connected to the ground. It's changed the work quite a bit from that first iteration at Te Papa.
EABAnother thing that's really different about the work in Venice, as opposed to when it was installed at Te Papa, is the pitch of the roof. It's much steeper and also creates more of a cathedral-like [space] or whare tupuna (meeting house) kind of space. The pou (columns) in the corners of the room almost act like the four corners or the pillars of the whare holding it up, so it has more of a feeling of being a whare tangata.
One of the most exciting changes about the work is the fact that, at Te Papa, you were able to view the work from the top. There was a walkway, where you could see on top of the work. Here, we had to think about how the way you move around the work changes, only being able to walk underneath it. So, we made the call to flip the work, which was predominantly reflective on the top side at Te Papa, which talks about the world of light and acknowledging the difference between Te Ao Mārama (the world of light) and Te Pō (darkness, night), which was the darkened space underneath the work. So, the work is flipped, the weaving is flipped, and the reflective sides of the strapping and the woven pieces are down. The work takes on a whole other presence in Venice.
Reflective tape is made to be seen in the dark, in low-light situations, so the work really shines in a new way, because it's so low-lit underneath. The lighting is really exciting in the iteration of this work in Venice. It's stronger and it's bolder. It's not better, but it's just nice that it's different. It's like a 2.0 kind of thing.
TTTThe work that you mentioned before, as you walk in the front entrance, by Yinka Shonibare, [is] a traveller. It's like they're walking into this new experience, because the title is Foreigners Everywhere, so you get this real sense of people moving from one place to another. [The sense is] either transient or [they’re] going somewhere to settle, a discovery. So, it's quite exciting to have that work in the entrance as well.
HUMIn the iteration at Te Papa, that work came into being in response to the whāriki, the woven mats, in the Te Papa collection. Does the iteration of Takapau in the Biennale still carry that resonance with whāriki, or has it moved into something different?
TTTThat feeling of tension in the work [at the Biennale] comes through quite strongly, because, communities, to get anything to happen, [require] a lot of people working together in synchronised and sometimes quite messy ways, but there's this tension that holds everything together.
Yes, the whāriki element is very important, because that's where we draw the inspiration from. That's where the patterns come from. That aspect of it, especially because of the low light conditions, you can really feel quite strongly there.
EABThe whāriki element is definitely still strong. That's what the work is about. It's about acknowledging this taonga (treasure) that our ancestors revered as something that could delineate [and] acknowledge space and ceremony, and that's what we like to do. When you're looking at installation art, it's one of the few taonga that does that. [It] has a function. The work acknowledges the most fine and significant mats to Māori, takapau, once used during ceremonies of birth and marriage and death, and at Te Papa it spread and filled the space and it still does that here in Venice.
HUMI remember seeing Takapau at Te Papa, and it seemed so perfect for that space. In the Biennale, it's so perfect in the space of the Arsenale as well. Both are equally strong, but having that kind of response to site without losing the core meaning is amazing. What was it like transporting and installing such a large-scale work?
SHWonderfully, this work is in the collection of Te Papa, so the conservation team there did an amazing job of devising a system that would help us at the other end to make everything make sense, because the work isn't de-installed as simply as unhooking all the hooks and flinging it in a box. Every single strap gets unwoven [and] wound up. They're all labelled. They're all numbered. Each one has their own place, which is quite a complicated undertaking. In terms of shipping [it] over there, Te Papa only brought down the work maybe in January or February [2024] from where it was in Pōneke Wellington. They flew it over there [and] those boxes were there to greet us, and we got to it.
EABWe’re really lucky and thankful that the boxes were there to greet us, because we know that's not always the case, and other artists around us were scrambling, ringing customs and things, trying to find their work to install it.
Takapau during installation, April 2024. Photo: Ben Stewart. Courtesy of Creative New Zealand.
Takapau during installation, April 2024. Photo: Ben Stewart. Courtesy of Creative New Zealand.
Takapau during installation, April 2024. Photo: Ben Stewart. Courtesy of Creative New Zealand.
Mataaho Collective, Takapau, 2022, polyester hi-vis tie-downs, stainless steel buckles and j-hooks, site-specific configuration, variable dimensions. Mataaho Collective: Te Puni Aroaro, Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa, 18 Dec 2022–28 Jan 2024. Photo: Maarten Holl. Courtesy Te Papa.
HUMWhen we were in Venice, we spoke with artist, researcher and writer Rychèl Thérin. She told us a story from when she was in the space. She was just hanging around, listening to people, and she overheard a couple of women who came into the space. They read the label, and then they look at the work, and the first thing they say is, “Oh, this isn’t indigenous. But I love the reflective tape.” Because you've exhibited your work overseas so many times, how do you approach presenting your work to audiences who aren't familiar with mātauranga Māori (the body of knowledge originating from Māori ancestors) or Te Ao Māori (the Māori worldview), and who might be surprised by a challenge to stereotypical ideas of Indigenous art?
SHThis is something that we wānanga (to meet and discuss, deliberate, consider) about all the time, but quite extensively in the beginning. Our first work to go overseas was Kiko Moana for documenta in 2017. We thought heaps about what it mean[t] to present a contemporary work that's grounded in Te Ao Māori to an audience that is not coming from that context at all. From all of that thinking and discussion, we came to [the] conclusion that we are always going to make Māori work. There's no option there for us. We're always going to make contemporary Māori work that is grounded in mātauranga Māori, and what we also want to do is create beautiful work that is engaging, and no matter what you're bringing, wherever you're from, hopefully there's something that can engage you for a certain amount of time. Also, if not, no problem too, because we don't actually want to make art for everyone. That would be too much to ask for. But, what we will do is present it to a level that we're really happy with, and hopefully at some level people can engage.
TTTIt’s great, too, if it does challenge people's perceptions. That's the cool thing about [presenting work] at exhibitions with people from a lot of different places. You're presented with these different stories and different experiences, [different] backgrounds and histories that inform that artwork. There's a lot of work I've seen at the exhibitions that we've been really lucky to be a part of that has really helped to change my way of thinking around certain things and assumptions that I had.
EABIt’s no different to being in Aotearoa and exhibiting our work. So often someone may come and interface with the work [and] could say exactly the same thing: “We're making Māori art because we're four Māori women, and this is what we make, so that makes it that.” But, the works that we make together as Mataaho always look to a continuum of innovation. We are inspired by the customary works of our ancestors, but are applying the techniques and methods and materials of how we live today, materials that we face and see and connect with here and now. In essence, making work is storytelling and making installation work is about creating an immersive experience for people. You don't really need to know any of that [context] to get something from a work. It may be the material that brings you in. It may be the fact that you're interested in customary weaving. It may be the fact that you like the way the light plays. There are so many different ways that anyone can interact with work.
HUMSomething that your work and Takapau does is make space for people. There's a real sense when you're in that space with Takapau that there's room for you. There's space given to the viewer to bring what they bring to the work, and that's such a big part of the work’s impact.
SHOur footprint in the Biennale is a privilege. There is a big chunk of space that we've been given. Our mentor, Dr. Maureen Lander, has always encouraged us as installation artists to protect our space, to know who's going to be around us, and what those relationships bring to the reading of our work. To show in the Arsenale with that amount of space allocated, [and] that amount of space we can give back, was such a pleasure.
EABAnd mind-blowing. I still can't really comprehend how many people have already walked and will over the next few months walk under our work and experience it.
What we do is make it, and then it's up to everyone else to activate it, to bring life to it and to experience it. We don't usually get to see that. Sometimes, if we're around, we might hang out and watch people walking through the work, but usually we go home, and it's everyone else [that] gets to experience it.
RYCHÈL THÉRINMy name’s Rychèl Thérin. I am an artist and researcher and writer of Māori and Jerriais heritage. I have a BA in painting from the University of Arts London and finished my Masters in Māori Visual Art at Toioho ki Āpiti in 2012. I'm a mother of two children and I live in Vienna, Austria.
I've written a paper called Mana Wāhine Māori and the Mataaho Collective: the power of collectivity and how we feed our roots. Basically, it's looking at the practice of Mataaho [and] how it started: four mates that just wanted to make art together and whose research interests had so many crossovers, like a really interesting Venn diagram that then brought them together.
That first work that they made, Te Whare Pora, started the main thread of practice that they have continued to [follow] for the last 12 years, where they take experiences of Māori wāhine (women) and use them—whether they're talking about goddesses or the experiences of Māori female artists, Māori women's experiences are always at the beginning of wherever they go with their work.
There's also the idea of the wānanga. "Te whare pora" is the house of weaving, which is the house of women, although now it's wider. But nonetheless, there is something about this coming together and collectively making things for a community. That is in essence what Mataaho do.
I think there needs to be a nod to the educational trajectory that everyone in Mataaho has taken.
Three [members of Mataaho Collective] have studied under Bob Jahnke, who's also showing [in Venice], which brings a really amazing idea of lineage and generationality to the group of New Zealand artists that have come here. For Mataaho to be showing alongside Bob Jahnke, Fred Graham, Sandy Adsett and also Brett (Graham), is just wonderful, because it shows a trajectory of Māori contemporary art from the 1950s up until now. I think when you look at it all together, not only does it stand on an international level, but also you can start to see the whakapapa (genealogy) of that.
What's particularly interesting with Mataaho, and how they've come to be here now, is [that they went] through the Toioho ki Āpiti programme with Bob. He really has grounded that programme, from the BMVA (Bachelor of Māori Visual Arts) to the MMVA (Master of Māori Visual Arts) to the PhD, in mātauranga Māori. Literally anyone who's anyone in Māori art has taught on that programme. Even that in itself is a way of bringing people along, and a way of giving access to young Māori creatives.
On the wider exhibition scale of Bob being here with Mataaho, it really speaks to the fact that—well, [I] can only talk for Māori artists—it is a circular lineage of art making that is happening. Older artists are working with younger artists, and it's not that there's an “us and them” situation. It is like everyone is bringing each other along together, which is really beautiful.
HUMOn the topic of mentorship, Erena, Terri and Bridget, you were all taught by Robert Jahnke, who is also exhibiting in Venice as a part of Personal Structures, a parallel event to the Biennale. What is that like for you to be exhibiting in the same context as one of your mentors?
TTTIt’s very special. I don't even know how to put words to it, because it feels so surreal. As young aspiring artists, we looked to these people for guidance, and being able to be there with them on that journey now is mind-boggling.
EABFor me, I was most excited [by] the fact that Bob [Jahnke] was going to be there. It meant that he could be there and see the work, and we could hang out with him [and] have a meal with him in Venice. That's the most exciting thing. To me, Bob's like an uncle, and you're just excited that they're going to see what you're doing and that you can see what they're doing too. We always talk about relationships in Māoridom, tuākana-tēina relationships, or relationships between a student and a mentor. It was comforting to know that he was there, but also to know that he would learn [from us]. We learn so much from him, but he also learns from us and experiences things through what you experience. It's like your children experience things through what you do as well. I don't think he ever set out to create students that we're going to be exhibiting in the Venice Biennale, but I bet it feels nice, just like it feels great for us to exhibit alongside him in Venice.
TTTHe's got this knack of really seeing something in the work that you do and giving you a lot of confidence and having a lot of faith that you can embark on something and finish it. I'm really grateful to him for that and helping me to have those opportunities and helping us, because, without those people, we wouldn't be able to do what we're doing. They're really integral.
EABWe don't go on our own. We bring these people with us, anyway. There are so many other people that have taught us and that have been working so hard as contemporary Māori artists before us that we were bringing along on the journey in our hearts and minds and thoughts, anyway. There are so many people that have opened doors for us. Just through the doorway from our work is Brett Graham's and Fred Graham's work, and to be exhibiting alongside them… They're superstars to us.
SHWe definitely felt the whakapapa (genealogy). It felt like we were surrounded by these amazing ringatoi Māori (Māori artists), and being acknowledged simultaneously was really exciting. It also made us excited for the future, [for] what else is coming along that whakapapa line.
EABYeah, who's coming up next behind us?
HUMThings look quite different for Aotearoa at the Biennale this year. There are the most artists from Aotearoa to ever participate in the Biennale at once, but there isn’t a national pavilion. Creative New Zealand supported you to bring your work over to Venice, but, in general, the distribution of funds has been different, compared to a pavilion year, given the number of Aotearoa artists who are presenting. In terms of funding infrastructure, I wonder if you could offer some reflections on the current state of public funding in New Zealand?
SHWe love collective life, and I think that institutions also like the idea of collective life. It's really romantic and interesting and different to that individual model, but the infrastructure isn't there to support collective life yet. Even though, like I said, this is nothing new; weavers and carvers, Indigenous peeps all over, have been working collectively forever, but the institutional infrastructure does not support it financially. Conceptually, cool. Sweet as [laughs].
TTTI was thinking about how resourceful our communities are. Whether it's fundraising for kapa haka (Māori performing arts) or uniforms and sports, weavers, carvers [are] making it happen. It's incredible what people achieve on not very much. I'm thinking how, if that mahi were [better] supported, what could be achieved? It's a rough time at the moment, isn't it? So many people are losing their jobs. This work will continue, and it will be for the love of it, and because people love coming together and doing things [as] collectives. But, hopefully it won’t suffer too much, because people just give and give, don't they? Just to get things across the line.
SH[We’re] also cognisant of that distribution of funds. I understand that what was allocated to the eight of us this time around was a drop in the bucket compared to a pavilion year. If that allocation of funds is going to other artists to support multiple artists’ careers and projects, that would be amazing, but things are shifting with funding allocations. There will always be time for fundraising within community as well, because, like Terri says, we come from resourceful and supportive peeps.
HUMNot only were you awarded the Golden Lion for the Best Participant in the International Exhibition, but Archie Moore was awarded the Golden Lion for the Best National Presentation for kith and kin in the Australian Pavilion. To close, I wonder if you have any reflections on what it means for this year to have been such a successful year on the global art world stage for Indigenous art.
EABFor me, the initial reaction was: “How cool is that?” Archie's work was one of the most standout works from what I saw in the Biennale. When we walked into the Golden Lion ceremony, there was a special area where we sat, and we knew that everyone [who] was sitting [there] was going to get something. We didn't know what we were getting, because we couldn't believe it, but I sat down behind Archie and I whispered to the girls, “He definitely got the Pavilion [award].” It's a beautiful work. How cool is it that those two top awards were taken out by Indigenous artists? But, it's also not surprising to me, because that’s the world that I come from and live and breathe. These people have been making amazingly strong, powerful works in our communities, Indigenous arts communities, for so long. I guess now it’s not having a time, because it's always had a time, but it's just being recognised and seen by a different group of people.
HUMWe were watching the live Golden Lion ceremony when we were in Venice, and couldn’t really believe it. To see work coming from Aotearoa, work you're so familiar with, get that recognition is a pretty amazing feeling.
SHThat was one of the loveliest parts of it. Takapau was up in Te Papa for a year, and Aotearoa got to see it first, which hasn't ever happened with any of our international pieces before. So, that felt huge. That felt amazing.
EABWe were given the link [to the awards ceremony] to send to some friends and family, but just moments beforehand. It was quite cool. We were sending messages home to our family, saying, “We're getting an award! Watch this link!” And so many of them did watch it, which is really cool.
TTTSometimes, I've felt quite shy talking about it, but that completely flipped on its head for me this week. There are these kids that I've done a little bit of weaving with during our kids’ kapa haka (Māori performing arts) sessions, and they'll just hang out with me and do some stuff while I'm making stuff. When I saw them, I was like, “Oh my god, you guys, guess what? We got this Lion, and here it is.” I just couldn't stop gushing about it. I just didn't have any shyness whatsoever about big-noting this award to these guys, these ten-year old girls that are so open and excited and happy. I'm like, “I want this for you guys.” Whatever [the] experiences you want to have for them [are]. It's probably going to be rugby [laughs].
SHWe definitely couldn't have gotten over to Venice, all four of us, without Creative New Zealand and Te Papa. That's been really huge. Funding at the moment in Aotearoa is a big contentious subject under this new government that's not that new anymore, and I think it will continue to be so for the next three years. So, [we’re] just really appreciative, but [we’re] also aware [that] the environment at the moment is really hard for artists. We feel that too. We've been feeling that for the last wee while. So, I just wanted to mihi (acknowledge) to everyone who's coming through. It's graft, but it can be really amazing and worth it when you've got your people around you.
Crossing Currents: Aotearoa New Zealand Artists in Venice is an original podcast series produced with the support of Creative New Zealand Toi Aotearoa, with editing and mixing by Hamish Petersen. Cultural advisory is provided by Matariki Williams, graphic design by Emma Kaniuk and music by João Veríssimo.
Click here for the fifth interview in the series: Fred Graham at the 60th Venice Biennale