Continuing a legacy

Textiles conservator Dr Rangi Te Kanawa hopes that rebuilding traditional skills and knowledge will provide clues to help reconnect taonga kākahu to the descendants of those who made them

WORDS: JACQUI GIBSON • IMAGERY: ERICA SINCLAIR

Dr Rangituatahi Te Kanawa isn’t one to let a mystery go unsolved. For five years, Rangituatahi (Rangi) meticulously researched the traditional black dyes used in century-old Māori kākahu stored in the collection of Te Papa Tongarewa Museum of New Zealand, hoping to discover where the woven garments came from and who made them.

Records show traditional weavers typically coloured kākahu with handmade dyes made of plant tannin extracted from local plants such as hīnau and iron-rich mud sourced from purpose-built paru pits.

They also show up to 95 percent of Te Papa’s kākahu have no official recorded provenance.

“People whose ancestors may have made these incredible textiles simply don’t know they’re here.

“These taonga have effectively been lost to them,” said Rangi in ‘Uncloaking mysteries’, a Winter 2017 Heritage New Zealand magazine article that was written at the outset of Rangi’s PhD study.

“Did I solve the mystery? Not exactly,” says Rangi, a skilled Ngāti Maniapoto weaver and textiles conservator who was based at Te Papa for more than three decades.

“But I’m not giving up.”

In August Rangi’s research findings were published in a Victoria University of Wellington PhD thesis called, ‘An approach to reconnecting taonga kākahu to tangata whenua’.

In the thesis she canvasses the various methods she trialled over five years to analyse and trace the origins of the traditional black dyes used in Te Papa’s kākahu collection.

In the first year of her PhD, funded by a Marsden grant, she trialled elemental analysis on five piupiu, which proved to be ineffective.

Finally, following discussion with her university supervisor, she settled on another method, which relied on a spectrophotometer to measure the hue of black-dyed fibres typically found in kākahu.

“Neither method was conclusive. But the latter proved somewhat useful by revealing a relationship between the hues of traditional black dyes and the places they were made.

“For example, I found the black dye procured from my area has a blue hue, largely because we use tannins derived from the hīnau plant. Tanekaha tannins, widely used in several regions throughout New Zealand, produced a red hue.”

To determine the provenance of each kākahu within Te Papa’s collection, more research is needed, says Rangi.

“My work gives the next researcher a possible method to build on and a starting point to further explore the topic.”

In the meantime, Rangi is on a mission to encourage more Māori to take up traditional kākahu weaving.

“It’s my hope that the process of reconnecting to this ancient practice will one day lead to solving the mysteries of the kakahu in Te Papa’s collection”

“I want more of our people to visit the places their ancestors harvested harakeke and gathered the plants needed to dye the fibres. Go to your traditional repo or swampland to gather your paru. Learn how to immerse your tannin-treated fibre into the iron-rich mud.

“It’s my hope that the process of reconnecting to this ancient practice will one day lead to solving the mysteries

“I grew up with the smell of harakeke boiling on the stove. There was always weaving around the house and a kākahu on the go. As a child, I knew this was unique. I didn’t see the same thing going on in my friends’ homes.

“Now, of course, I realise the incredible role my mother and grandmother played in conserving the practice for future generations. They retained something that was very nearly lost.”

In 1994 Rangi’s mother published a book, Weaving a Kakahu, which details the steps of making a kākahu from selecting and preparing harakeke to dyeing fibre and weaving a final garment.

“Years ago, I remember talking to Mum about the challenge of making ancient kākahu last forever. I lamented the tendency of black-dyed fibres to break down and deteriorate over time.

“But conserving kākahu didn’t make a lot of sense to Mum. She’d say to me: ‘Nothing lasts forever. Instead, you need to keep the practice alive.’ And

of the kākahu in Te Papa’s collection. By building up our skills and knowledge again, and by looking at the kākahu with fresh eyes, some clues to their provenance may very well surface.”

Rangi thanks her mother, the late master weaver Diggeress Te Kanawa, and grandmother, Dame Rangimārie Hetet, also a master weaver, for her deep connection to the craft.

harakeke: flax kākahu: cloak mātauranga: knowledge paru: mud piupiu: woven waist garments repo: swamp tangata whenua: people of the land taonga: treasure

that was very much her goal with her book.”

Rangi says she’s extremely proud to be part of her grandmother and mother’s legacy as New Zealand’s firstever and only Māori textile conservator for nearly 30 years, a researcher and, ultimately, a gifted weaver herself.

In 2020, Rangi completed a feathered kākahu (the second of only two kākahu she’s ever made), which was acquired by Te Papa for its national collection this year.

Using a traditional weaving technique on the hemline and employing a unique diamond pattern made from yellow-dyed fibres on the main body of the cloak, Rangi called the kākahu ‘Te Ao Marama’.

With Rangi’s permission, the kākahu was worn by museum staff as part of Te Papa’s inaugural Matariki public holiday celebrations this year.

“The name references the stage in human creation when shimmering light enters the world. In part, I chose the name to reflect a shift in consciousness we’re seeing across Aotearoa.

“There’s a growing awareness and recognition of our indigenous culture. Reviving and celebrating our weaving traditions is part of that change in mindset. Of course, it’s also wonderful to have my kākahu in Te Papa’s collection, alongside the story of who made it and how it was made.”

RECONNECTING PEOPLE AND TAONGA

Reconnecting tangata whenua to their taonga has been central to my career as a Māori textile conservator, but also to my recent PhD thesis as a heritage and museum studies scholar.

In 2016, while working for Te Papa Tongarewa, I had the privilege of working on an ’ahu ’ula (feather cloak), which was returned to the people of Hawai’i along with a traditional mahiole (helmet).

It was a team effort, of course. My role was to treat the feathered cloak using conservation methods known as ‘stabilising‘ and ‘supporting’. The mahiole was treated separately by a colleague.

The colourful feathers and the intricate woven fibre work, all done by men, was mind boggling. Simply working on the cloak was extremely moving.

Then, in July this year, I travelled to Bishop Museum in Hawai’i to give a presentation on the work we’d done to the people whose ancestors made the extraordinary garment, which also brought me to tears.

The chiefly cloak and helmet were gifted to James Cook in 1779 by Hawaiian high chief Kalani’ōpu’u just weeks before Cook was killed in Hawai’i at the instruction of the chief. For more than a century, they sat in private collections in the UK before being sent to the Dominion Museum in Wellington in 1912.

For me, the story behind the garments is fascinating. But what I find more fascinating is the skill and intellect you clearly see demonstrated in the ’ahu ’ula and in traditional weaving throughout the Pacific.

Our ancestors were formidable in what they knew and could do by drawing on the natural world around them. It’s my dream to see indigenous peoples of the Pacific reclaim this mātauranga and embrace this skill and knowledge as part of our cultural identity again. n – Rangi Te Kanawa