ULI. Powerful Ancestors from the Pacific, by Jean-Philippe Beaulieu - "PREVIEW VERSION" by Tribal Art magazine

POWERFUL ANCESTORS FROM THE PA C I F I C

By Jean-Philippe Beaulieu

PREVIEW

ULI POWERFUL ANCESTORS FROM THE PA C I F I C

Front cover: Detail of an uli. Believed to have been collected in the village of Konombin, central New Ireland, by Georg Friederici before September 1908. H: 152 cm. Adam Lindemann Collection, New York. See catalogue number U8-1.

Back cover: Uli. Probably collected in Tegerot, central New Ireland. Carbon dated to the 17th century. H: 98 cm. Ana and Antonio Casanovas Collection. See catalogue number U1-1.

Jean-Philippe Beaulieu © 2021. All rights reserved under applicable International Copyright Conventions and applicable copyright laws. The author expressly asserts his moral rights in relation to this copyright work. This work may not be reproduced in whole or in part, in physical, electronic, digital, audio or other format, without the prior express written permission of the author. Images and excerpts used in accordance with fair dealing laws or by permission, are identified in the text or in the bibliography at the end of this book. Copyright in the layout and typeset of this work rests with the publisher.

© Primedia SPRL Rue Bois d'en Bas 11a 1404 Bornival Belgium Legal Deposit, September 2021 Editor: Jonathan Fogel Copy editor: Bob Christoph Layout: Alex Arthur, Françoise Barrier Printed in Belgium by Cassochrome, Waregem ISBN: 978-2-9601375-4-5

ULI POWERFUL ANCESTORS FROM THE PA C I F I C Jean-Philippe Beaulieu

TABLE OF CONTENTS

7 Preface 15

I. Curiosities from the South Seas: The Late Nineteenth and Early Twentieth Centuries

Johann César VI Godeffroy: the South Seas King

The Neu Guinea Compagnie, 1884–1900

Neu-Mecklenburg (New Ireland): Late 19th to Early 20th Century

Imperial Order in the Bismarck Archipelago

II. Collecting Artefacts in Neu-Mecklenburg

79 81 84 88 90 93

The 1908 Sapper-Friederici and the 1909–1910 Hamburg Südsee-Expeditions 95 95 98

Walden Returns to Mandak Country Augustin and Elisabeth Krämer in Neu-Mecklenburg The Krämers Trek the West Coast of Neu-Mecklenburg Shark Calling in Tembin The Krämers’ Fieldwork on the East Coast and the Lelet Plateau The Last Days of the Expedition

Karl Sapper: Geologist and Ethnologist The Expedition The 1908–1910 Hamburg Südsee-Expedition

Swan Song: The Voyages of Alfred Bühler in 1931 99 Visiting Konombin Village in 1931 102 Livika: The Voice of the Subterranean World 104 Photographing Uli Houses in Konos 104 Visiting Malom and its Inland Hamlets 104 A lucky Day Near Panakondo

“Chest Pain” in the Bismarck Archipelago

Buying Artefacts in Neu-Mecklenburg

III. The Uli Hunters in Neu-Mecklenburg

111 V. Mandak Ritual Life

Albert Hahl: The Godfather

111

Franz Boluminski: The Decorated Colonial Administrator

Wilhelm Wostrack: From Stamps and Butterflies to Ulis

Karl Nauer: The Flamboyant Captain

Komine Isokichi: The Kyushu Pearl Diver

Hugo Schauinsland: A Museum Director Travels to the South Seas

Alfred Georg Stübel: Colonial Administrator

Max Thiel: Head of Hernsheim & Co. and the “Sultan of Matupit”

A. Kornmajer: Imperial Judge

The Copra-Anointed Prince Rudolf Wahlen and Count Birger Mörner

71 IV. Exploration and Scientific Voyages 71

The Deutsche Marine-Expedition 1907–1909 74 76 77

Edgar Walden in Northern Neu-Mecklenburg Edgar Walden’s First Trip Through Mandak Country Consequences of the Death of Emil Stephan

The Mandak Social and Spiritual World 111 The Body and Life Force of the Mandak People 112 The Two Primordial Ancestors: Moroa and Sigirigum, the Sun and the Moon 112 Earthly Powers and the Spirits of the Mandak, the Larada and the Lagas

113

Kabai

117

Rainmaking in Central New Ireland By Michael Gunn 118 118 118 119 119 120 121

Rainmaker Sites Stone-Walled Enclosures A Platform to Support Skulls in Clamshells Tridacna Clamshells Human Skulls and Bones A Sacred Type of Ginger (Curcuma sp.) Cylindroconical Stones Specifically Associated with Taro Fertility 121 Rainmakers

122

Malagan and Malagan Vuruk: The Uli Rituals

126

The Oldest-Known Malagans from Tabar: Mendis and Malaganchak

128

The Thirteen Steps of an Uli Ceremony

135

Observations about Other Uli Sites 135 Alfred Bühler and Uli Houses 136 Rev. Pater F. Utsch in Konow, c. 1927

138

The Konombin Ritual Site

143 VI. The Uli Figures 143

Uli Origins

143

Pigments Used on Ulis

145

Pigment Analysis of the Uli Figure of the Musée d’Ethnographie de Neuchâtel

By Nadim C. Scherrer and Lea Peterer

147

General Description of Uli Figures 147 Faces 148 Earlobes 148 Bodies

150

Lakam from Konombin Carves an Uli Figure

151

Overview of Uli Types Identified by Krämer

153 VII. A Catalogue Raisonné of Ulis 153 Description 154 Notes about Restoration 155 Estimated Age 156 Curio, Replica, or Fake Ulis?

156

Collection and Historical Information: Collection Dates 157 Uli Field Collectors 157 Village Provenance

159

Provenance, Publications, and Exhibitions

160

Uli TYPE 1 – Selambungin Sonondos

180

Uli TYPE 2 – Selambungin Lorong

210

Uli TYPE 3 – Selambungin Antelou

222

Uli TYPE 4 – Lembankakat Lakos

234

Uli TYPE 5 – Lembankakat Sonondos

253

Uli TYPES 6-11-12 – Lembankakat Mbaru, Semberaulong, Ean Maloboru

254

Uli TYPE 7 – Lembankakat Lavatlas

272

Uli TYPE 8 – Lembankakat Egilampe

290

Uli TYPE 9 – Lakiserong

312

Uli TYPE 10 – Ealandik

326

Uli TYPE 13 – Evorok–Moanu, Nicknamed the “Black Ulis”

344

RAINMAKERS – Rainmaker Figures from Lassigi and Lemeris

349 VIII. From Museums to Private Collections: Entering the World Scene 349

The Arthur Speyer Dynasty

354

A Hundred Years of Dealing in Curiosities and Ethnography: J. F. G. Umlauff from Hamburg

356

Julius Konietzko, Ludwig Bretschneider, and Everett Rassiga

357

Alfred Flechtheim and Baron Eduard von der Heydt 359 Alfred Flechtheim and the Baron von der Heydt Uli Figures 360 Baron Eduard von der Heydt: A Complex Character

361

Carel van Lier: A Pioneer of Ethnographic Art in Amsterdam

362

Friedrich Wield, Fritz Lang, and the KegelKonietzko Family

363

Oceanic Art, André Breton, and the Surrealists 363 The Surrealists Take the Stage 365 New Ireland: The Centre of the Surrealist World

366

The Legendary Exhibition at Galerie Pigalle

369

Galerie Gradiva 369 Developing Interest in Ethnography

370

The Second Half of the Twentieth Century 373 Serge Brignoni 374 Joyce Mansour 376 The Oceanic Art Collection of the Mansours

381 Ulis in the Late Twentieth and Early Twenty-First Centuries 384 Bibliography 392 Photo Credits

Preface

n uli, a large ancestor figure from the island of New Ireland, took pride of place on the left-hand side of the desk of the founder of the surrealist movement, André Breton. This iconic ancestral figure reigned over the collection housed in his legendary studio at 42 rue Fontaine in Paris. Breton had coveted this artefact for decades. He first became aware of its existence while it was in the collection of Roland Tual, but he could not acquire it when it went to auction in 1930. He wrote a poem to this uli in 1948 and was finally able to acquire it in 1964, but only after parting with Giorgio de Chirico’s 1914 painting The Child’s Brain. Why was this carving so important to him? An uli is a large-scale anthropomorphic sculpture carved from a single piece of wood. It is stocky with large shoulders and short legs, the whole covered with white, black, and red pigments. It has a large, broad bearded head topped by a crest resembling a shark fin. The eyes are made from shell, affording it a penetrating gaze, while the facial features are highlighted with black pigment, reflecting the facial paint worn by powerful warriors. It has a large mouth with clenched teeth and a carnivorous smile. Its defiant attitude accentuates its power. It also has pointed breasts that appear feminine and a thick penis. Is this striking figure a hermaphrodite? What is it telling us? And what is its place within the world of the surrealists? To our Western eyes, it is an artistic masterpiece overseeing Breton’s studio, the beating heart of the surrealist movement, prominent among the forest of artworks there by Alberto Giacometti, Man Ray, Marcel Duchamp, Salvador Dalí, Yves Tanguy, and Max Ernst, as well as kachina dolls, Yup’ik masks, Easter Island figures, objets trouvés, and Bismarck Archipelago masks, carvings, and overmodelled skulls … . Uli figures are far more than iconic art objects highlighted by Breton and the surrealists. In the early 1900s, when the first ulis arrived in Germany from its distant colony, they triggered keen interest within the ethnography world, the general public, and the artists of the avant-garde. Ulis have always been rare and have long maintained a special status among the vast number of artefacts that arrived from the Bismarck Sea. The curators of German ethnography museums were eager to develop their collections, but they also recognised that the cultures that produced these artefacts were vanishing. There was an urgent need to record the old traditions and understand the context in which these objects were being produced and used. These museums sent a number of expeditions

into the field to learn about the context and traditions of the source cultures, as well as to make observations and collect artefacts. Augustin Krämer, the leader of the Deutsche Marine-Expedition, wrote from New Ireland to his mentor and friend, Karl von Linden, founder of the Linden-Museum in Stuttgart, on 10 December 1908, stating that he wanted to “learn more about the uli figures.” Krämer led this expedition to study the cultures of New Ireland, but he singled out the ulis specifically as a key point of interest. This was a time of deep transformation. The colonial authority was encouraging the New Ireland people to relocate closer to the shore rather than staying in the hills where many had long lived. The majority of the young men came to be employed by the plantations, while colonial administrators integrated the local chiefs as liaisons to their communities. For their part, the New Irelanders quickly understood the keen interest these newcomers had in their artefacts. With the notable exception of ulis, which were used and reused in the course of many ceremonies, most New Ireland artefacts carried meaning during their making and within the context of their onetime ritual use during a funeral ceremony. Some of these were destroyed as part of the ritual, while others traditionally were left to deteriorate in the forest. The New Irelanders started to sell those artworks that could be sold, ulis among them, and the rarity of the latter quickly forced the prices up due to competing demand. Over the period spanning 1904 to 1914, the vast majority of existing uli figures were sold. In striking contrast, there were other artefacts that they refused to sell, such as the large woven malagan wawara, also associated with funerary ceremonies. Most likely, this is a reflection of a social and cultural transition to new traditions and may account for the weakened or even severed ties to the older uli tradition. How did these ulis make their way from central New Ireland to become important artworks in museums and private collections? Our aim with this book has been to give the most complete and precise history relating to the collection of each uli, whether by colonial administrators, travellers, local residents, or scientific expeditions. Often these individuals are just a name dropped in an article, a museum registration log, or an auction catalogue. We have done our best to bring them back to life using research based in part upon unpublished diaries

André Breton and his uli, c. 1966. © Photo Elisa Breton / © Association Atelier André Breton, www.andrebreton.fr.

The André Breton Uli. Collected by Franz Boluminski in central New Ireland by 1910. H: 125 cm. Centre Georges Pompidou, Paris. See catalogue U1-2.

Cover of Bei Kunstsinnigen Kannibalen der Südsee: Wanderungen auf NeuMecklenburg, 1908–1909 (Among Art-Loving Cannibals of the South Seas: Wanderings in NeuMecklenburg, 1908–1909), by Elisabeth Krämer-Bannow, 1916. Author’s collection.

Drawing published in 1916 in Elisabeth Krämer-Bannow’s book. The drawing is credited to A. B., Elisabeth’s father, Adolph Bannow, who did not travel to New Ireland. The search for the source photograph for this drawing was the starting point for the adventure that resulted in this book. Krämer-Bannow, 1916: 185. Author’s collection.

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Preface

and notebooks from early twentieth-century colonial expeditions to New Ireland, correspondence between early explorers exchanged and the relevant museums, field photographs from the time, early publications, and museum records. We invite you to board the steamer S.M.S. Sumatra of the flamboyant Captain Karl Nauer, then the schooner of the Japanese pearl diver Komine Isokichi, and to follow the aspiring Prussian aristocrat Franz Boluminski and the methodical Wilhelm Wostrack, both acting under the auspices of the governor of the colony, Dr. Albert Hahl. We invite you to imagine being with Martha Wostrack as she played the piano on the beach under the suspicious eyes of her New Irelander acquaintances. We will also follow in the footsteps of Augustin Krämer as he listened to a livika friction drum being played by a rainmaker on the Lelet Plateau and to walk the karst hills of Konombin village with Elisabeth Krämer-Bannow under such a heavy rain that she decided against using her umbrella in order not to ruin it; we will follow too the path taken by a grumpy Alfred Bühler on his hunt for ulis, complaining bitterly when he realised that they either were not for sale or the prices were too high. You will witness the sculptor Lakam from the village of Konombin carving an uli on 26 March 1909, and then chanting a war charm to load it with power and another chant to make it beautiful. We present here the first catalogue raisonné of ulis. It is composed of 231 entries from public and private collections worldwide, and we illustrate 205 of them. We found that twenty-five field collectors sourced 143 of these, constituting sixty percent of the corpus. The villages of collection are known for sixty-five ulis. The ulis form a well-defined corpus, and they are clearly distinct from other New Ireland sculptures. The oldest has been scientifically dated to at least the seventeenth century, several are from the eighteenth century, and the vast majority were made in the nineteenth century. What place did ulis hold in the ritual life of the people of central New Ireland? We have recordings from the early twentieth century as witnesses, but what can we learn now by discussing this old body of knowledge within an evolving culture? And when was the last ceremony held? We travelled to central New Ireland, visiting the hills where the uli tradition originated in search of old ritual sites, following in the same footsteps as the early explorers. Hidden in the karst hills covered by a thick forest, we found the abandoned ritual site of Konombin, and we learned about the last ceremony held there, which was shortly after World War II. Today, ulis are no longer ritually used. They are shadows of past rich and complex traditions that now have entered a new dimension, some being considered in the twenty-first century as masterpieces of world art.

The Making of This Book

In order to learn as much as possible about uli figures, I followed three general lines of attack:

1 – SEARCHING FOR ALL ULIS AND REBUILDING THEIR PROVENANCE The first task was a massive search for all known uli figures. This started with a search of the database of more than 6,000 New Ireland artefacts compiled by Dr. Michael Gunn over the past thirty years, coupled with the 1974 Ph.D. thesis of Philip Gifford, which itself accounted for 140 ulis. These were formidable resources in and of themselves and a perfect starting point. My task was lightened by the support of and friendship with Gunn, who has great knowledge and wide-ranging connections. I then went back to original registration entries in the archives of many museums in order to double-check each entry and to look for further ulis that may have been overlooked. Which ones were actually accessioned and which were traded or sold before being accessioned? Which ones are still in museums today? Which ones left museums as objects of barter or exchange during the course of the twentieth century, and where are these now? As we will see, most of the ulis in private collections today were deaccessioned from museums at some point in the past. Through time-consuming detective work, I have been able to bridge time and connect a large number of these ulis to their museum collections of origin. In many cases, connection was also made to a specific field collector, in fewer cases to the villages where the object was collected, and occasionally the moment this happened. In my opinion, this is the most important part of

the provenance history. This task has been possible only thanks to the kind and friendly help of curators from various museums worldwide, who gave strong support to the project, in particular: Dr. Marion Melk-Koch, Grassi Museum für Völkerkunde, Leipzig; Dr. Hilke Thode-Arora, Museum Fünf Kontinente, Munich; Dr. Ulrich Menter, Linden-Museum, Stuttgart; Dr. Dorothea Deterts, Ethnologisches Museum, Humboldt Forum, Berlin; Dr. Martina Kleinert, Südsee-Sammlung & Historisches Museum Obergünzburg; Dr. Paul Davis, The Menil Collection, Houston; Dr. Jeanette Kokott, MARKK, Hamburg; and Oliver Lueb, Rautenstrauch-Joest-Museum für Völkerkunde, Cologne. They opened the doors of their museums and their archives, and checked their reserves on behalf of this project. These and other museums also allowed us to have good photographs of the ulis in their collections for this publication.

2 – LEARNING FROM PERIOD SOURCES IN ARCHIVES: PUBLICATIONS, MANUSCRIPTS, LETTERS, DIARIES, AND PHOTOGRAPHS It is widely believed that the ritual use of uli figures disappeared about one hundred years ago. As such, it was important to go to the original testimonies recorded by witnesses to the ceremony (or at least its context) in the early twentieth century, starting with Augustin and Elisabeth Krämer and Edgar Walden from the Deutsche Marine-Expedition. I started with the book titled Bei Kunstsinnigen Kannibalen der Südsee (Among Art-Loving Cannibals of the South Seas), authored by Elisabeth Krämer-Bannow in 1916. It is the daily travel diary kept by the Krämers in New Ireland during their expedition, and it features a number of drawings. It concludes with a dense chapter of remarks by her husband, essentially a summary of what he recorded and understood about the malagan and uli traditions of New Ireland. Looking at a drawing of an uli in a hut with two local men in Lambu village in Krämer-Bannow’s book, it struck me that this drawing must have been based on a photograph, but I had never seen it before. Where could it be? The end of the expedition was a bit rocky and afterwards Augustin Krämer did not appear to be on very good terms with the Berlin museum. After working at the Linden-Museum in Stuttgart, Krämer concluded his career as a professor at Tübingen University, to which he donated his remaining collection of artefacts. I contacted Dr. Volker Harms of Tübingen University to ask about Krämer’s archives and if there might be any photographs that I could look at. He told me that there were eighty unpublished

glass plates and invited me to visit. A week later, I was sitting down in the library of Tübingen University looking for the first time at these glass plates, one of which was indeed the uli in Lambu, the inspiration for the drawing in the book. But beyond that, it was a treasure trove of photographs taken in 1908–1909 in central New Ireland. Dr. Harms also mentioned that one of his former students had found fourteen of Augustin Krämer’s notebooks at Göttingen University. One week later, I visited Dr. Gundolf Krüger at Göttingen University to review these writings. The tenth notebook, appropriately named “Uli X,” contained most of Krämer’s field notes about ulis. The final pages of this notebook had photographs of fourteen ulis, including eight donated by colonial administrator Wilhelm Wostrack to the Linden-Museum, accompanied by a variety of notes in German, Latin, and the Mandak language. The other six photographed ulis had been collected during the colonial expedition led by Krämer. Obviously, Krämer had shown these photos to the Mandak people as he interviewed them during his travels in New Ireland (then Neu-Mecklenburg). It was clear that some elements from the notebooks had been used in the publications by Elisabeth Krämer-Bannow (1916) and Augustin Krämer (1916, 1925), but not everything. A small problem was that they were almost impossible to read, even for a native German. Krämer wrote his notes in Kurrent style, the German cursive script in use before the introduction of Sütterlin style in 1911, and deciphering this proved exceedingly difficult. Word by word, line by line,

Uli figure in its presentation hut in the men’s house of Lambu village on the afternoon of March 9, 1909. This is the only known photograph of an uli figure in situ and in the context of its appropriate ritual site. Photo: Elisabeth Krämer-Bannow. Museum der Universität Tubingen, inv. 1409.

everything was difficult to interpret and ambiguity reigned more often than not. Surprisingly, the easy part was the Mandak language, which had less ambiguity than the Kurrent words. Fortunately, my friend Dr. Marion Melk-Koch came to the rescue, and, with her help, we were finally able to understand the Kurrent that Krämer had written in his notebooks. Another decisive moment was with the Deutsche Marine-Expedition archives at the Ethnologisches Museum in Berlin. It included the correspondence between the members of the expedition in the field, letters to the museum, and thousands of pages of other documents. I noticed that there were some notebook-format pages handwritten by Edgar Walden scattered throughout the seven boxes of the archives. Just before World War II, anthropologist Hans Nevermann, who was then associated with the museum, took most of Walden’s files home in order to write an article summarising the conclusions of the late Walden’s fieldwork. Unfortunately, he never returned the files to the archives and they have been missing ever since. What I found were the carbon copies of Walden’s notebook pages that he had sent to museum director Felix von Luschan during the expedition. I photographed all of them and later used the images to reconstruct the order of the pages. In doing so, I discovered that I was reading Walden’s travel diary for his time in northern and central New Ireland. It was much easier to read than Krämer’s, since Walden did not use Kurrent script. I found that Walden described an enclosure in Kavieng with seven ulis in it and that he then collected ulis in Lemau, near Lamasong. His notes contained considerable detail about his life and work in New Ireland. After selected transcripts and translations were made with the expert assistance of Dietmar Strauch and Katherine Vanovitch in 2014, Marion Melk-Koch again went through for a final review of the whole travel diary that I had reconstructed. We will present here for the first time this unique testimony about his expedition to Mandak country in 1909. The colourful letters of Captain Karl Nauer are kept in Leipzig and his photo albums are

in Obergünzburg. These too provide a unique perspective. In addition to these, we also present extracts from the unpublished travel diaries of Georg Friederici and Alfred Bühler from their separate times in Mandak country (translated by Marion Melk-Koch and Ingo Waldmann, respectively). Letters have also been a valuable resource: Ulis were already rare and coveted by that time, and people therefore mentioned them in letters. Additional valuable information and perspectives came from three passionate contemporary researchers focusing on pre-1914 Neu-Mecklenburg, namely, Rainer Buschmann, Karl Baumann, and the late James Ridges of Kavieng. They were a valuable resource for obtaining early photographs relating to and information about the historical period of the German Colonial administration in New Guinea and New Ireland.

One of Augustin Krämer’s diaries, preserved in the Linden–Museum. It summarises the Krämers’ stay in Neu-Mecklenburg as described in the text in this chapter. Linden-Museum, Stuttgart. Photo © Linden-Museum.

3 – UNDERSTANDING MALAGAN TRADITIONS FROM A NEW IRELAND PERSPECTIVE What about the people who developed these traditions? It was natural to want to find out the degree to which malagan traditions were still alive by travelling to the source. Based upon fieldwork by Brigitte Derlon on the Lelet Plateau and Dr. Michael Gunn in Tabar, the latter location appeared to be the best hope. In September 2002, I landed in Kavieng airport and went straight to the one-room tourist office. I asked the only person sitting there if he could give me advice about going to the Tabar Islands, the believed origin of the malagan tradition. He looked at me with a big smile and proudly told me that he was from Tabar and that other people from the island were in town that day. The next day at dawn, in the company of my new acquaintances, we travelled southeast on the Boluminski Highway and then boarded a twenty-foot fibreglass boat and sailed to the Tabar Islands, which are a little more than fifty kilometres off the east coast of the mainland. Tatau, Tabar, and Simberi Islands, which comprise the archipelago, are a small paradise, quiet, peaceful, and far from the Western world. To my surprise, there were still malagan feasts being held on these islands to “finish the dead” and to regulate the social life of the clans. One decisive meeting was with the malagan carver Edward Salle, who had been one of Gunn’s original informants twenty years earlier. We spent countless hours speaking and sharing our stories in an easy and

Augustin Krämer’s notebooks held by the Institut für Ethnologie, Universität Göttingen. Author’s photo.

natural way. Edward was an old man, sparkling, full of humour, and a descendant of a dynasty of carvers. He was one of the last guardians of the malagan tradition. I wanted to understand malagan from a New Ireland perspective, what it meant to own a malagan, the cycles and the obligations within the clan. What were the different malagan types, the codes, and all these masks and dances? The best way to learn is not by asking questions all the time but simply to take time, share something from yourself, and learn from your friends. This process for me personally by now has spanned more than nineteen years. As an astrophysicist, which is my day job, this was a personal adventure. These old traditions and their arts, all deeply human things, form a stark contrast with my daily work with mathematics and physics. As a scientist, I am used to unveiling some of the mysteries of nature using scientific formulae and a rigorous body of knowledge. Given only a tiny piece of evidence, it is possible to go quite far in one’s interpretation because of the nature of the laws of physics. Here it is a very different approach because it is all very human. I have had to be cautious, realising that asking too direct a question may encourage an interlocutor to answer in a way that makes the questioner happy but does not necessarily provide the correct information. It is important to stick as close as possible to the facts, listen, and not ask too much in a way that

causes pressure. Moreover, some of the informants are very precise about what they know and what they don’t know or have forgotten, while others demonstrate “enhanced creativity,” perhaps for prestige or perhaps just to make their guest happy. It is important to discern which is which, to have humility, and to learn. Time is of the essence—taking enough time.

Preparing This Book and Going Back to Old Sites All this adventure on the trail of ulis and malagan was initially done without thinking that a book would evolve from it. In 2014, the uli formerly owned by Murray Frum was heading to auction at Sotheby’s. As it happened, I had found Augustin Krämer’s notebooks just a few weeks before, and they contained information on this uli. My friend Julian Harding encouraged me to offer to write an essay for the sale catalogue, which Sotheby’s accepted. I continued my search for ulis and started to write essays regularly for the various ulis appearing on the market at Sotheby’s or Christie’s, notably including the Walden-Loeb-Vérité in 2017. For several years, I enjoyed wearing the double hats of astrophysicist and explorer of New Ireland art and tradition while publishing articles on ulis in prestigious auction catalogues.

Following the path taken by Elisabeth Krämer-Bannow on 12 March 1909. This track leads from Tembin on the west coast of New Ireland to Konombin and then to Panakondo on the east coast. Author’s photo, November 2018.

While exploring the Munich archives, Dr. Hilke Thode-Arora suggested that I should publish a book like the one released by the Fondation Beyeler about Nukuoro figures. She was right, but how would I do that? I wasn’t associated with a museum or an ethnography research department. All my trips and my own Oceanic art library at home were self-funded, but publishing an art book that would do justice to uli figures would likely be well beyond my resources. It would take an elegant and comprehensive book to do justice to these figures, and even if I could produce it, how would it be distributed? I carried on with my exploration of the uli world and malagan rituals and art objects while mulling over these important questions in my head. Meeting Pierre Moos in 2017 was a decisive encounter for me and the beginning of access to a growing circle of like-minded fellow enthusiasts, each passionate about ulis and determined to establish the role and position of these powerful carvings within the corpus of Oceanic art, ideally through print. Pierre invited me to publish my work in this book, and with the support of Primedia SPRL and passionate collectors such as Adam Lindemann, Ana and Antonio Casanovas, Bernard de Grunne, and Yves-Bernard Debie, it was a dream come true. Thanks to the joint support of the above individuals, we could publish this work with the knowledge that we could maintain the highest quality standards and thus do justice to its subject matter. We also organised a field trip to central New Ireland in November 2018. The team was composed of the author, Dr. Michael Gunn, King Pawut of Tatua Island, and Matthew Sale of Tabar. My friend Didier Barrière of Nomads Media joined us, bringing his photography expertise and experience in the field. We went in search of the lo12

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Preface

cations visited by Augustin and Elisabeth Krämer in 1909 and to seek out the site of the famous 1905 uli ceremony in Lamasong. Using the old diaries and satellite maps, we were able to approximately plot the legendary village of Konombin. Located deep in the hills, the visit to Konombin was possible only because we found its landowner, who still possessed vivid memories from the olden times. All this work led to a manuscript with a suite of photographs and drawings. It then took a talented, passionate, and dedicated publishing team, Françoise Barrier, Jonathan Fogel, and Alex Arthur, to help get the book into shape for publication. Finally, I would like to acknowledge all the people listed below, without whose financial contribution, encouragement, freely given support, and expertise, this book would not have seen the light of day.

Akelei!

The bay at Lemau village, west coast New Ireland. Author’s photo.

November 2018, having a good laugh in Tangatupit. From left to right, King Pawut (Tatua Island), Bruno, the author, and a Tangatupit resident. Photo by Didier Barrière.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I wish to express my deep gratitude to: Pierre Moos for his dedication to make tribal art more universal and his passion for New Ireland art. Without Pierre, his support, his passion, and his friendship, I would not have been able to go so far on the trail of the ulis and this book would not exist. Adam Lindemann, Ana and Antonio Casanovas, Bernard de Grunne, and YvesBernard Debie for their contribution, support, and belief in this project, without which this book would never have seen the light of day. Françoise Barrier, Jonathan Fogel, Bob Christoph, and Alex Arthur of Primedia SPRL for their magnificent editorial and design work, Elena Martínez-Jacquet, and Dorothée Duval. Dr. Michael Gunn (Canberra) and Dr. Marion Melk-Koch (Leipzig) for their expert contribution, friendship, and the materials they supplied. King Pawut, Matthew Salle, the late Edward Salle (Tatau, Tabar Islands), and Bruno of the Kebo clan (Lamasong, Konombin) for their heartfelt sharing of information made through true friendship over nineteen years. I warmly thank for their direct or indirect but important contributions to this book: Nadim Scherrer, Lea Peterer, Ingo Waldmann (UCL, London), Dietmar Strauch and Katherine Vanovitch, Didier Barrière (Nomads Media), Dara Beaulieu, Evelyne Peter Beaulieu, Karl Baumann, the late Jim Ridges, and Julian and Barbara Harding (London). I would particularly like to thank all the museums, curators, and experts listed below, who kindly contributed photographs and other materials and gave helpful advice that made this book possible. Museums and the academic world: Dr. Paul Davis (The Menil Collection, Houston) Dr. Dorothea Deterts (Ethnologisches Museum, Humboldt Forum, Berlin) Dr. Martina Kleinert (Südsee-Sammlung & Historisches Museum Obergünzburg) Dr. Ulrich Menter (Linden-Museum, Stuttgart) Dr. Hilke Thode-Arora (Museum Fünf Kontinente, Munich) Manami Aoki (National Museum of Ethnology, Japan) Reinhard Blumauer (Weltmuseum Wien,

Vienna, Austria) Dr. Rainer Buschmann (California State University, Channel Islands) Dr. Ines de Castro (Linden-Museum, Stuttgart) Don Cole (Fowler Museum at UCLA, Los Angeles) Dr. Roberta Colombo Dougoud and Nadia Vincenot (Musée d’ethnographie de Genève) Corinna Erckenbrecht (Reiss-EngelhornMuseen, Mannheim) Dr. Heather A. Hales (Indiana University Art Museum, Bloomington) Lauren Hancock (Field Museum, Chicago) Matthias Claudius Hofmann (Weltkulturen Museum, Frankfurt) Dr. Ilse Jung (Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna) Dr. Gabriela Jungová (Náprstek Museum, Prague) Dr. Doris Kähli (Museum der Kulturen, Basel) Dr. Christian Kaufmann (Basel) Bernard Knodel (University of Neuchatel) Dr. Jeanette Kokott and Catharina Winzer (MARKK, Hamburg) Dr. Michael Kraus (Georg-AugustUniversity, Göttingen) Constance Krebs (André Breton website) Dr. Oliver Lueb and Susanne Kube (Rautenstrauch-Joest-Museum für Völkerkunde, Cologne) Dr. Paolo Maiullari and Dr. Francesco Paolo Campione (Museo delle Culture, Lugano) Dr. Léontine Meijer-van Mensch (Grassi Museum für Völkerkunde, Leipzig) Heike Luu (Philipps-Universität Marburg) Dr. Sven Mönter (Bonn) Dr. Michaela Oberhofer (Museum Rietberg, Zurich) Dr. Aoife O’Brien (Världskulturmuseerna, Stockholm) Dr. Philippe Peltier (Musée du Quai Branly – Jacques Chirac, Paris) Dr. Arne Aleksej Perminow (Kulturhistorisk Museum, Oslo) Jessica Rahmer (St. Louis Art Museum) Dr. Susanne Rodemeier (Philipps-Universität Marburg) Anette Schade (Berlin) Dr. Achim Schäfer (Historisches und Völkerkundemuseum, St. Gallen) Katja Scharff (Linden-Museum, Stuttgart) Stefanie Schien (Museum Natur und Mensch, Freiburg) Michael Solf (Freundeskreis Julius-RiemerSammlungen, Wittenberg) Dr. Alban von Stockhausen, Flora Tarelli (Bernisches Historisches Museum, Bern) Thomas Otte Stensager (Nationalmuseet, Copenhagen) Dr. Beatrice Voirol (Museum der Kulturen, Basel) Dr. Toru Yamaguchi (Keio University, Japan) Anja Zenner (Ethnologisches Museum, Berlin)

Collectors, experts, auction houses, photographers, and art dealers With thanks for opening up private collections and sharing knowledge and archives Guillaume Cerutti, Alexis Maggiar, and Victor Teodorescu (Christie’s) Alex Grogan and Pierre Mollfulleda (Sotheby’s) Bruno Claessens (Brussels), Bas van Lier (Amsterdam), Bart van Bussel and the late Loed van Bussel (Amsterdam), Michael Hamson (California), and Tim Teuten (London) New York: Phyllis Hattis, Susan Kloman, Heinrich Schweizer (Schweizer Premodern), and Victor Teicher Paris: Marie-Laure and Pierre Amrouche, Alexandre Bernand, Marion Bertin, Hugues Bienaymé, François Bourse, Sarah Boukamel, Didier Claes, Jean-Edouard Carlier, Brigitte Derlon, Hughes Dubois, Bernard Dulon, Lance Entwistle, Daniel Estrade, Asher Ezkenazy, Julien Flak, Edith Flak, Jean-Marcel Gayraud, Vincent Girier-Dufournier, Michel Grandsard, Paul-Henri Guermonprez, Charles-Wesley Hourdé, Daniel Hourdé, Pascale Krausz, Jacques Lebrat, Albert Loeb, MarieFrancine and Cyril Mansour, Sylvain Matthieu, Anthony Meyer, Alain de Monbrison, Eugénie Monney, Philippe Peltier, Stéphanie Puissesseau, Lucas Ratton, Marguerite de Sabran, Christine Valluet, Edouard Vatinel We are very grateful for the authorisation to reproduce certain artworks Jeff Koons (New York), Emil Nolde (Seebüll), Atelier André Breton, Aube Elléouët-Breton Close Friends and Family Thank you for encouragement and enthusiasm: Jean-Claude and Françoise, Arwen, Céline, Jean-Yves and Katja, Arthur Beaulieu, Bernard Gadrat, and Jacques Guerraud (France and Switzerland) James Barzyk, François Bourse, Warren Boyles, Penny Cocker, Pierre Durieux, Chris Hood, Vincent Pardieu, Jean and Repa Simonet, Katie Troutman, Daniel Vigne, Jean-Claude Verdoodt, Michele and David Warren (United States, France, Belgium, Australia) In New Ireland: Robert Pelo, Noah Lurang, the late David Valik, Lamiller Pawut, Ken Pawut (Tabar), and Steven Pantiga (Lamasong)

Curiosities from the South Seas: The Late Nineteenth and Early Twentieth Centuries Johann César VI Godeffroy, the South Seas King

he nineteenth century was the golden age of colonial land claims, trade expansion, evangelism, and exploration expeditions in the Pacific. These distant archipelagos excited the appetites of explorers, missionaries, travellers, and intrepid traders.1 The Hamburg-based company J. C. Godeffroy & Sohn, which had been establishing numerous trading posts in Oceania since the middle of the nineteenth century, had a quasi-monopoly on trade and transport there. They expanded so quickly and so aggressively that they had been nicknamed by a British traveller the “grab-all’s of the Pacific.”2 They established their first outpost on Samoa at Apia in 1857 and in Neu-Pommern in 1873. They had a large fleet of as many as twenty-seven trading vessels cruising the South Seas, connecting forty-five stations. They hired men of all nationalities and backgrounds, following a rather expedited recruitment process described by a Godeffroy agent in 1874 as “Can you speak the language? Can you keep your mouth shut? Can you live among natives without quarrelling with them?”3 They were also encouraged to marry local women around the stations established among the indigenous communities. On behalf of J. C. Godeffroy & Sohn, these agents collected copra, coconut oil, sandalwood, bèchede-mer, turtle shells, mother-of-pearl, and various raw materials that they shipped out aboard the company’s vessels that regularly cruised the region. Among their instructions, they were advised to “give no assistance to missionaries by word or deed, beyond what is demanded by common humanity.”4 Business first! And it was lucrative business both for these adventurers and for their parent company. The agents’ activities also included the collection of various animals, shells, plants, and ethnographic objects for the collection of the company’s owner, Johann César VI Godeffroy. As his curiosity cabinet grew increasingly rich and diversified, in 1861 he opened a museum in Hamburg called the Museum Godeffroy to share his zoological, botanical, and ethnographic collections with the public. The museum proved popular and Godeffroy gained the nickname the South Seas King. Thanks to the enthusiasm and financial resources of its wealthy owner, the museum developed a policy of systematic documentation and publication.5

In addition to preserving a record of the indigenous populations following first contact, Godeffroy was aware that his collection would have greater value in the long term if it was documented and published. This was also a source of revenue for him. Indeed, in the period 1864–1884, the museum published nine catalogues of duplicate artefacts for sale6 as well as a monumental volume in 1881 of the ethnographic collection authored by Johann D. E. Schmeltz and R. Krause. The latter included sixty-four illustrated plates, eighteen of them featuring artefacts from “Neu-Pommern” (today known as New Britain) and Neu-Mecklenburg (today’s New Ireland), including spears, clubs, masks, wood and stone carvings, adornment, etc. Each artefact was documented with a precise description. The company also subsidised the German-language Journal des Museum G odeffroy (1873–1910) to provide information about the specimens from the museum and the exploits of the collectors and travellers employed by the company. This pioneering approach had an impact on the development of the field of ethnology and it also inspired an enthusiastic public, fascinated by these strange objects from faraway places. Although successful and powerful, J. C. Godeffroy & Sohn started getting involved in risky mining speculation in the German Ruhr and investing in railway construction, plantations, and real estate. In 1873, the company had to be bailed out by banks and other trading companies. The museum was used as a collateral guarantee. The company had become too diversified while also suffering from increasing competition in the South Seas. Ultimately it was declared insolvent by December 1879.7 An article published in the New Z ealand newspaper The Press on 21 February 1880 deplored the bankruptcy. The author pointed out that “very valuable information has been obtained” thanks to the company and noted that

Johann César VI Godeffroy (1813–1885). Photo: Emilie Bieber, Hamburg, 1865. Bibliothèque nationale de France, ark:/12148/ btv1b84498333.

Left: Detail of an uli. Believed to have been collected in the village of Konombin, central New Ireland, by Georg Friederici before September 1908. H: 152 cm. Adam Lindemann Collection, New York. See catalogue number U8-1.

In the late 19th century, New Guinea and the smaller islands of Melanesia were divided between the British Empire in the south-east, Holland in the west, and Germany in the north-east of the mainland and in all the islands of the Bismarck Archipelago. Detail of map from Brockhaus’ Kleines Konversations-Lexikon, Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus, 1911.

“the Godeffroy Museum in Hamburg is rich in everything related to the South Seas.” The company eventually restructured itself under the initials DHPG.8 Despite the bankruptcy of his company, Godeffroy did his best to preserve the integrity of his collection in the museum. However, shortly after his death in 1885, the remaining ethnographic objects were dispersed to the museums of Leipzig, Berlin, Hamburg, Oxford, and Leiden. The entomology, zoology, and botany collections were acquired by Italian, Austrian, and Australian museums. Interest in ethnographic collecting by then had extended beyond the borders of the German Empire and would inspire subsequent generations.

The Neu Guinea Compagnie, 1884–1900

hortly after the demise of Godeffroy & Sohn, in 1884 the German Empire established the protectorate of Kaiser-Wilhelmsland, composed of the north-eastern quadrant of New Guinea and encompassing the shores and islands of the Bismarck Sea. The colony also included the islands of Neu-Pommern and Neu-Mecklenburg, which were renamed New Britain and New Ireland in 1918, when the area came under British Commonwealth control. As trading posts multiplied, the headquarters of the German imperial administration was established in Herbertshöhe (Herbert’s Heights), known today as Kokopo, on the other side of Blanche Bay from Rabaul at the north-eastern tip of Neu-Pommern. The administration of the German colony was entrusted to a private company, the Neu Guinea Compagnie,9 for a period of fifteen years. Its commercial activities were lucrative: A ton of copra traded for six marks’ worth of tobacco, empty bottles, and glass beads could be sold for 400 marks in Germany.10 Trade diversified over the years, and some inhabitants of the Bismarck Archipelago became increasingly sophisticated trading partners with or employees of the huge plantations that were developing in the region. Adolph von Hansemann, director of the Neu Guinea Compagnie, followed the example of Godeffroy & Sohn and encouraged the collection of ethnographic objects. An initial collection of these curiosities was presented in its own gallery of Berlin’s Königliches Museum für Völkerkunde in the late 1880s under the title “Property of the Neu Guinea Compagnie.”11 Among the 2,128 artefacts were a number of rare masks and m alagan carvings collected on the north-east coast of Neu-Mecklenburg by Otto Finsch between 1879 and 1882. This separation of collections annoyed 16

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the museum’s founding director, Adolf Bastian, who ultimately bought the whole collection for the institution for 23,000 marks. As part of the deal, Bastian required that all artefacts collected by the Neu Guinea Compagnie would be presented first to the Berlin Museum, thereby establishing a de facto monopoly. Von Hansemann found strong incentive to further develop the trade in ethnographic artefacts, and to this end he recruited two former Godeffroy employees, Danish anthropologist Richard Parkinson and Polish naturalist John (Jan/Johann) Stanislaw Kubary. Once Parkinson ascertained the company’s policy was solely commercial, he quickly resigned. In an 1892 letter to Félix von Luschan, then assistant to Bastian, Parkinson regrets that the company showed no interest in ethnographic research: “If only von Hansemann had the same curiosity as the late Godeffroy, then my activities would make sense.” To add another nail in the coffin, he added that “the company is guided only by business interests.”12 The Neu Guinea Compagnie’s employees were contractually obligated to systematically transfer all the material they collected to it at cost. The company then offered the pieces collected to the Berlin Museum at very high prices. In a letter to the Count Karl von Linden in Stuttgart, von Luschan complains that while the company does “primarily pursue commercial goals,” he admits that “it cannot be blamed for using its monopoly position in the most brutal way towards the Berlin Museum.”13 He further

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Adolph von Hansemann (1826–1903), founder of the Neu Guinea Compagnie, 1898. From Ralf Lindemann, Das weiße Schloss am Meer, Schwerin: Tennemann Media, G.m.b.H., 2018.

Adolf Bastian (1826–1905), co-founder and first director of the Königliches Museum für Völkerkunde, which would become the Berlin Ethnologisches Museum. Photo c. 1890. U.S. National Library of Medicine, B01298.

“Melanesian and Micronesian weapons and artefacts” Colour plate from Friedrich Ratzel, Völkerkunde, Leipzig: Bibliographisches Institute, 1894. Author's collection.

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Objects from the Bismarck Archipelago collected by Otto Finsch between 1879 and 1882 and published in 1888. Finsch was a former curator at the Übersee Museum in Bremen who was engaged in “salvage anthropology”—the collecting of artefacts before the vanishing of the native culture. The high quality of the print suggests strong public interest in the art from the South Seas. The objects on this page are among the earliest collected artefacts from New Ireland. Here Finsch presents several malagan figures collected in Kapsu on New Ireland (1, 2, 3), a lintel from Kapaterong (5), and a spear handle from Nusa (6). The stone figure (4) is from the Barok region, and the remaining three artefacts (7, 8, 9) are from New Britain. From Otto Finsch, Ethnologische Erfahrungen und Belegstücke aus der Südsee. Beschriebender Katalog einer Sammlung im k. k. naturhistorischen Hofmuseum in Wien, section 1: Bismarck-Archipel, Vienna: Alfred Hölder, 1888. Author's collection.

1 17 7

Objects from the Bismarck Archipelago collected by Otto Finsch between 1879 and 1882 and published in 1888. They originate mainly from the northern part of the Bismarck Archipelago, in particular the area between Nusa and Kapsu. Artefacts 1, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9 are from Nusa. Artefact 2 is from Kapaterong, artefact 5 is from Kapsu, and artefact 10 is from Blanche Bay in New Britain. While Finsch has illustrated tatanua, kepong, and vanis masks, as well as mouthpieces, ears of

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masks, and malagan figures, he did not provide precise ritual context for the artefacts. His identifiers are limited to such descriptions as “dance masks,” “dance implements,” and “fine carving from a ritual location.” From Otto Finsch, Ethnologische Erfahrungen und Belegstücke aus der Südsee. Beschriebender Katalog einer Sammlung im k. k. naturhistorischen Hofmuseum in Wien, section 1: Bismarck-Archipel, Vienna: Alfred Hölder, 1888. Author's collection.

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regrets that the objects offered to him, at increasingly higher prices, were not accompanied by any ethnographic information. As the storage rooms at the Berlin Museum filled to overflowing with countless objects, many of them duplicates and some mass-produced for commercial purposes, extremely rare objects were being presented as mere trophies in German colonial exhibitions. The future director of the Berlin Museum, von Luschan, was rightfully irritated.

John Stanislaw Kubary (1846–1896), collector of curiosities and artefacts. He collected first for Godeffroy & Sohn and then for the Neu Guinea Compagnie. Hamburg Südsee Museum archives.

Neu-Mecklenburg (New Ireland): Late 19th to Early 20th Century

t the end of the nineteenth century, Neu-Mecklenburg was a little-known land. It is an island of volcanic origin extending more than 340 kilometres in length and with a width varying between 10 and 50 kilometres. The north is composed of limestone terraces of ancient coral reefs, which then merge into a chain of hills with rugged relief. In the centre of the island is the Lelet Plateau at an altitude of more than 1,000 metres. The west coast is a succession of narrow alluvial plains leading to steep karst foothills covered with dense tropical vegetation. Rainfall is frequent and intense. The east coast has a similar morphology but is less steep and therefore much easier to access. The plateau at the centre of the island meets the massif of volcanic origin in the south in a narrow isthmus of about 10 kilometres. Easy terrain separates the villages of Namatanai on the east coast and Ulapuntur on the west coast. The southern part of the island is of volcanic origin. It is extremely rugged and practically impenetrable in terms of access. It is dominated by Mount Taron, rising to an altitude of 2,380 metres in the heart of the Hans Meyer Range. The island is surrounded by the volcanic archipelagos of Tabar, L ihir, Feni, and Tanga in the east, Djaul Island in the west,

and Lavongai (New Hanover) in the north. It has been populated for some 33,000 years, and there are twenty different linguistic areas, all of Austronesian origin save for Kuot,14 which is spoken in the north-western foothills of the Lelet Plateau. At the end of the nineteenth century, it was estimated that about 20,000 people lived on the island and its surrounding archipelagos. Between 1615 and the early nineteenth century there was sporadic contact between the people of Neu-Mecklenburg and the crews of transiting European ships. Since this was mostly brief interaction with no intention of permanent settlement by the visitors, trade relations seem to have been satisfactory for both parties. Iron and weapons were in high demand and were supplied by the sailors, whalers, and explorers of the occasional ships passing by the coastline. The first Christian mission was established there in 1875 by English Methodist missionary George Brown on the south-west coast of Neu-Mecklenburg. English explorer and adventurer Wilfred Powell sailed around Neu-Pommern and Neu-Mecklenburg in 1877–1879. In 1883, he published Wanderings in a Wild Country,15 which includes an account of Barok funerary rituals to the south of the Mandak area. He also commented, “I can state on the authority of a cannibal chief, that having once indulged in the frightful repast it is very difficult to leave it off. He explained it by saying that ‘Human flesh was better than pig, turtle, fish, or fowls; and that white men were fools and did not know what was good.’”16 In all, this conveyed an image of a dangerous land while also emphasizing the prestige of the fearless adventurer, who was brave enough to sail in those seas. In the early 1880s, the first foreign settlers started developing plantations on the east coast, between Kavieng and Kapsu. Early contacts with the natives in this context were sometimes aggressive, in contrast with those that had previously taken place. Imperial Commissioner Gustav von Oertzen wrote to German Chancellor Otto von Bismarck in 1886, stating that “the warriors were rebellious and dangerous. They represent a threat to the settlers and their properties.”17 Indeed, there were a multitude of skirmishes by the locals against the new settlements and several even more severe attacks. Although the area was under the oversight of the Neu Guinea Compagnie, Governor von Hansemann did not want to invest any money in sending troops to the northern territories of Neu-Mecklenburg to safeguard the investments of the traders, effectively leaving them on their own. The absence of troops in the field had a secondary consequence. The settlers were not subject to any form of control with regard to their business practices or their interactions with the local pop19

Map of the language groups of NeuMecklenburg (New Ireland) and the cultural traditions they follow. People belonging to different language groups could generally follow and understand similar rites and traditions of other language groups. For instance, Tigak, Kara, Nalik, Notsi, Tabar, and Kuot people all used malagan rituals. The Mandak of central New Ireland had two specific malagan traditions called uli and wawara. Further south, the Barok people have different rites using stone figures for their mortuary ceremonies. South of the Barok country, the groups mostly speak the Patpatar-Tolai language and their traditions closely resemble those of Neu-Pommern (New Britain). Cartography by the author.

ulation. They could act abusively toward the local people with impunity and no one would know. Some would also exacerbate inter-village warfare if it might strengthen their business position in the long term. However, such actions by traders were often answered by violent retaliation from the natives. Eleven men working for a K apsu planter were killed in Panakondo in 1899.18 Neu-Mecklenburgers did not hesitate to eliminate reckless traders or recruiters they did not like. In total, about twenty Europeans and dozens of their employees from other provinces lost their lives in the period between 1881 and 1899. Life was not easy for traders, explorers, and other travellers in Neu-Mecklenburg, and their discomfort was to have long-term consequences. The Germans responded to these attacks with a few punitive expeditions. Ships such as the S.M.S. Möwe assaulted the coast with cannon fire and troops landed while villagers fled inland. Albert Hahl—Imperial judge starting in 1896 and later administrator of the Neu Guinea Compagnie and finally governor of German New Guinea19—regretted that this was the only solution, given the means at his disposal. He held that cannonading over the villages (but not aiming directly at them) would ensure that the natives would scatter into the bush and thus learn a lesson while not being injured. His background was in law and he demonstrated a rigorously inflexible mindset. He was conscious that 20

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many of the native attacks were a direct response to the reckless attitudes of some of the early white settlers. In his capacity as an acting judge, he chose to sentence a Tolai man who had killed a white trader to only one year’s forced labour, considering the act to have been in self-defence.

Imperial Order in the Bismarck Archipelago

n 1900, the Neu Guinea Compagnie had to give control of Kaiser-Wilhelmsland back to the Imperial German government. Herbertshöhe (today Kokopo) and Simpsonhafen (today Rabaul) developed quickly, with residences, hotel, hospital, post office, and headquarters for commercial and shipping companies with their docks and warehouses. The deep waters of Simpsonhafen allowed large ships to dock. It became an important commercial hub and soon developed into the central axis for the whole of the Bismarck Archipelago. Hahl was appointed governor of the colony in 1902. Having been there since 1896, he had a good knowledge of life in the South Seas coupled with a personal and pragmatic vision about the development of the lands of the Bismarck Archipelago. He understood that it would be easier for him to administer the natives if he better knew their habits and customs. This knowledge was also necessary to

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integrate them into the new society that was rapidly developing. Under his administration, the abusive and uncontrolled recruitment of natives to work in the plantations would be strictly regulated, in contrast with the previous practices under the Neu Guinea Compagnie. All inhabitants of the colony were granted legal rights and access to justice. The use of shell currency in commercial transactions was abolished in 1902 in order to force the native inhabitants of Neu-Mecklenburg to adopt the monetary economic system desired by the German Imperial government. Colonial administrators took up their duties in strategic locations: first, Franz Boluminski settled in Kavieng in the north of Neu-Mecklenburg in June 1900, and a few months later Wilhelm Wostrack in Namatanai in the south. These colonial administrators identified clan leaders and respected elders in the villages, and from among these they selected individuals who would then serve as intermediaries between the German colonial administration and the natives. Called luluais, they were given a peaked cap and a stick of office as symbols of authority. Their main task was to maintain cohesion and order within their clans and to respond to administrators’ requests.24

This photograph commemorates the twenty-fifth anniversary of the German colony on November 3, 1909. The portrait of Emperor Wilhelm II is carefully positioned in the middle of a shrine composed of malagan figures, tatanua masks, Admiralty and San Matthias Islands spears, an Astrolabe Bay shield, and two large turtle shells. This photograph was likely taken on the premises of the Hernsheim & Co. in Matupit, while the ships S.M.S. Planet and S.M.S. Cormoran were anchored in the bay. Photo courtesy of K. Baumann.

This was quite a challenge, and Boluminski regretted that the time that had to be devoted to traditional performances, or singsings, was becoming the nightmare of every European employer. Such “strenuous pleasures” were having a negative influence on the locals’ desire to work.25 After all, food was in abundance in Neu-Mecklenburg and, skirmishes with enemy clans aside, life there was rather easy. Nevertheless, in the traditional society, the respected and powerful “big man” (which was now Boluminski, seconded by his auxiliary luluai) could sometimes prevail to have some work done. One of the most important achievements of the luluai system was the construction of the K aiser Wilhelm Strasse, ordered by Boluminski. This wide crushed-coral road runs 250 kilometres along the east coast of Neu-Mecklenburg and connects Kavieng to Namatanai. Houses were built every twenty kilometres to provide shelter for travellers. The luluais were responsible for the construction and maintenance of the various sections of this artery, which was vital for the development of plantations and for maintaining the colonial order.26 The villages were moved from the hills and relocated near the road. Very quickly, missionaries settled within the new villages. Within a just few

Dr. Albert Hahl (1868–1945), governor of the colony of Neu-Mecklenburg and the major instigator for the collection of ethnographic artefacts. University of Frankfurt archives.

The Governor’s residence in Simpsonhafen (today Rabaul) in 1908. Note the German flag on the mast at centre. Museum am Rothenbaum – Kulturen und Künste der Welt archive: “Die Reise der S.M.S. Planet: 1906/1907,” plate 75.

SUGGESTIONS FOR THOSE TRAVELLING TO NEW GUINEA After three trips to New Guinea in the nineteenth century, Ernst Tappenbeck published a travel diary in 1901,20 concluding it with ten pages of detailed and colourful advice for the Victorian traveller. The German generally has very little talent for traveling; if someone drives from Berlin to Königsberg or somewhere else, he makes it seem as if the journey were to another planet. 21

1907–1909, followed this advice. Indeed, he had a Chinese cook and was accompanied by a young Neu-Mecklenburg boy named Tondo, hired as a personal assistant but whom Krämer’s wife treated almost as an adoptive son. Tappenbeck invited the traveller to concentrate on fresh products rather than canned meat, as being both safer and cheaper. He did not neglect the epicurean needs of social diners nor the importance of serving fine wines at the right temperature south of the equator.

There are several pages of comments about the voyage on board the ship. What to expect, what to wear at any given moment of the day, how to behave, and how to make sure not to lose too much money to gaming and drink. The author includes in his diary narrative helpful advice about where to buy the needed equipment while on the way and how to prepare for life in Kaiser-Wilhelmsland. Several extracts are set out below to give a flavour of Tappenbeck’s recommendations: Staying on Land in the Colony 1) Wardrobe The usual costume is the “white suit,” which you can order in Singapore from one of the Chinese tailors who will call at the ship or the hotels. If you want to equip yourself sufficiently for a longer stay (as a civil servant, etc.), two-dozen suits are absolutely necessary. The price is $32 = 64 marks per dozen. You can also order a half dozen white linen suits. A pair of leg garters would cost 1 mark. In twenty-four hours you can have everything made-to-measure, since it is rare for the Chinese to miss out on the opportunity of an order. […] You can also order a half-dozen white linen, low lace-up shoes, the pair $1 1/2–2. Everything can be made-to-measure in 24 hours and the Chinese seldom let the customer down. Colombo is the cheapest source for tropical hats; select the simple white round hat, not the uncomfortable helmet shape. At least two of these must be taken with you. 2) Furniture What you have to take with you under all circumstances—is a good, wide tropical bed. In no way should you get this piece of furniture cheaply in the protectorates from outgoing officials, because such beds are used during the frequent fever attacks, and it is not beneficial in terms of health to sleep on sweaty mattresses with cotton filling. […] European bed linen does not fit the usual tropical beds and, so you should get at least three sets of linens to fit the bed, as well as several mosquito nets.22

Tappenbeck warmly recommended hiring a Chinese chef in Singapore for 50–80 marks per month. He also suggested hiring young boys in New Guinea, aged 12–14, as household staff, for 10 marks per month. As we will see in a later chapter, Augustin Krämer, leader of the Deutsche Marine-Expedition of

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Sparkling wine can be found for 2.5 marks per bottle including transport and customs […]. Sparkling wine is the most popular of all wines and, according to the conviction of many calm and serious-minded people, it is a direct necessity, even in times of fever, in order to dampen the manifold annoyances and to alleviate the general nerve-fatigue that may occur from time to time. […] Whomever elects to make the Bismarck Archipelago his residence can find supplies in the shops of the various companies there. Good cognac is also an almost unknown item in Kaiser-Wilhelmsland, although alcohol by [the Dutch company] Erven Lucas Bols can often be found. Cigars are not sold in the camps and everyone has to bring their own supply. Since you will always find grateful buyers for good inexpensive cigars (at 8 to 12 pfg.), there is no risk here. Use the smallest possible packaging and put each box in a sheet-metal sleeve, otherwise they will arrive dried out or will rapidly be attacked by worms. The same is true of cigarettes; if you love Egyptians, buy at the source in Port Said [where the ship drops anchors during the voyage].23

The advice provided by Ernst Tappenbeck in his 1901 Deutsch-Neuguinea about travelling in the region is followed by a few advertisements for fully equipped tents (including mosquito nets), agricultural equipment, and further recommended reading for people considering settling in the German colonies. From Ernst Tappenbeck, Deutsch-Neuguinea (Berlin: Wilhelm Süsserotts, 1901), p. 184.

Early 20th-century label for Egyptian Dimitrino & Co. cigarettes, as recommended by Tappenbeck. Private collection.

a) Some of the colonial government buildings on the shores of Herbertshöhe (Kokopo). Museum am Rothenbaum – Kulturen und Künste der Welt (MARKK) archive: “Die Reise der S.M.S. Planet: 1906/1907,” plate 66.

b) Gardens along the shore of Herbertshöhe (Kokopo).

MARKK archive: S.M.S. Planet: plate 63.

c) Hotel in Herbertshöhe (Kokopo). MARKK archive: S.M.S. Planet: plate 71.

d) Post office in Herbertshöhe (Kokopo). MARKK archive: S.M.S. Planet: plate 77.

e) Headquarters of the shipping company Norddeutscher Lloyd.

MARKK archive: S.M.S. Planet: plate 70.

f) Photo probably taken on Matupit after a family lunch. The colonial residents of Blanche Bay enjoyed a comfortable life with a German touch. MARKK archive: S.M.S. Planet: plate 47.

Simpsonhafen, today called Rabaul, on Blanche Bay, which is surrounded by the cones of a number of volcanoes. S.M.S. Prinz Sigismund is visible at the dock. MARKK archive: S.M.S. Planet: plate 76.

Right: S.M.S. Prinz Sigismund docked at Simpsonhafen (Rabaul). Notice the luluai centre front with his peaked cap, military belt, and stick of office. An automobile is attracting a great deal of attention in the background. Glass-plate negative by Capt. Karl Nauer, c. 1910–1913. Deutsche Kolonialgeschichte, 02784-6.

Left: A clan leader known as a luluai. These served as intermediaries between the colonial administration and the native people of NeuMecklenburg. Each received a peaked cap and a stick of office as symbols of his authority. Museum der Kulturen, Basel, inv. (F)Vb942.01.

years, Neu-Mecklenburg underwent a major transition. From then on, the inhabitants had to be part of the society specified by the Imperial government while also being subjected to the evangelical zeal of missionaries. Hahl then levied a head tax on his subjects, which was first collected in Neu-Pommern in 1904 before being extended to Neu-Mecklenburg in 1906.27 Each man had to offer either his labour force to the colony or pay the “head tax” collected by the luluai and paid to the administrators. As an incentive to encourage the luluais to do their duties in this regard, they were to retain ten percent of these taxes on a personal basis, as laid out in the official 24

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Curiosities

from

the

document issued by Hahl, dated March 18, 1907: Section 1: Every adult, male native fit for work has to pay an annual head tax of five marks as long as the community or the district in which he lives or is temporarily resident pronounces him liable for taxation. […] Section 4: The community heads (chiefs) are […] responsible for the collection of taxes from those liable for payment and will deliver the proceeds to the local administrative authorities. […] The head of communities (chiefs) […] will be forwarded a remuneration of up to 10 percent of the taxable revenue. […]

South

Seas

Section 7: Natives may be freed from taxation if they can prove that within a tax year that they have worked ten months for a non-native or for a native who pays a business tax. […] Natives who pay taxes are freed from the corvee or communal labor.28

If the amount collected within the clan was not sufficient to pay the taxes, the luluais could designate the men who would offer their labour to the colony as payment. While Hahl was the architect of this forced cultural change to bring native Neu-Mecklenburgers into the new world he envisioned, he also recognized the importance of preserving the knowledge of traditional lifestyles, languages, mythologies, and arts before their inevitable disappearance due to contact with the colonial authority.

Above: The Neu Guinea Compagnie store in Simpsonhafen (Rabaul) was the key source for providing everything necessary for the household and the informal economy. The most soughtafter goods were beer, canned goods, tobacco, and cigarettes. Originally published in the newspaper Kolonie und Heimat, 1914. From Karl Baumann, 2007, page 323 (image coloured by Baumann).

ENDNOTES: 1. Two important sources for both the colony and the residents are Rainer Buschmann, Jerry H. Bentley, and Anand A. Yang, Anthropology’s Global Histories: The Ethnographic Frontier in German New Guinea, 1870–1935 (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2009) and Karl Baumann, Dieter Klein, and Wolfgang Apitzsch, Biographisches Handbuch Deutsch-Neuguinea: 1882–1922; Kurzlebensläufe von Kolonisten, Forscher, Missionare und Reisender (Fassberg: Baumann, 2002). 2. Cumming, 1882. See also Masterman, 1934. 3. Watson, 1918. 4. Appendix to Journals of the House of Representatives, New Zealand, 1874. South Sea Papers, part II, memo by Sterndale. 5. J. D. E. Schmeltz and R. Krause, Die ethnographischanthropologische Abtheilung des Museum Godeffroy. Ein Beitrag zur Kunde der Südsee-Völker, Hamburg, Verlag von L. Friederichsen, 1881. 6. These duplicates were called Doubletten in German. The practice of selling such objects continued well into the twentieth century as a protocol for German museums. 7. Bieler and Petit, 2012. 8. The full name was the Deutsche Handels- und PlantagenGesellschaft der Südseeinseln zu Hamburg. 9. Also sometimes rendered Neu-Guinea Kompagnie, Neuguinea-Kompagnie, and countless other variations. Neu Guinea Compagnie appears on the company certificates and coinage. 10. Buschmann, 2009: 35, notes 32, 33. 11. Buschmann, 2009. 12. Buschmann, 2009. 13. Buschmann, 2009. 14. The Kuot language is related to no other known language. It is currently spoken by about 1,500 people. 15. Powell, 1883: 247–250, appendix about New Ireland. 16. Powell, 1883: 248. 17. Firth 1982: 48, letter from Oertzen to Bismarck on 25 March 1886. 18. Firth, 1982: 54. 19. See section 3.1. 20. Ernst Tappenbeck, Deutsch-Neuguinea, Berlin: Wilhelm Süsserotts, 1901. 21. Tappenbeck, 1901: 163. 22, Tappenbeck, 1901: 170–171. 23. Tappenbeck, 1901: 178. 24. Buschmann, 2009: 103 and Firth 1982: 65, 73–76. 25. Firth, 1982: 84. 26. Buschmann, 2009: 103 and Firth: 1982: 68. 27. Buschmann, 2009: 103 and Firth: 1982: 105–107. 28. Knoll and Hiery, 2010: 216–217.

Left: This photograph records New Ireland masks and malagan carvings. It’s likely that this photograph was artificially staged as a kind of “mise en scène.” The two bowler-hat malagans and the large wooden vanis mask with ear planks in the middle had entered the collection of the Übersee Museum in Bremen by 1910. Photo: Capt. Karl Nauer, from a print in Nauer’s photo album. Südsee-Sammlung und Historisches Museum, Obergünzburg, Germany.

By Jean-Philippe Beaulieu

JEAN-PHILIPPE BEAULIEU

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Catalogue ULI Raisonné types

VII

A Catalogue Raisonné of Ulis

he project that has resulted in this book originally started with two sources: the New Ireland database compiled by Michael Gunn over the course of thirty years, numbering more than 6,000 entries from more than 130 institutions; and the 1974 Ph.D. thesis by Philip Gifford that describes 140 ulis. We then went back to the original sources, double-checking the provenance information for each uli. We have not here explicitly noted mistakes in provenance by Gifford, but instead we simply provide here the complete and updated provenance to the best of our knowledge. We also located additional ulis through old photos and registries while eliminating duplicate entries. For example, the Museum Fünf Kontinente in Munich has files with old photos of ulis that have since left museum’s collection. Decades later, they can be identified without ambiguity in their present collections. With regard to the ulis that went through the Arthur Speyer dynasty,1 the record is not always clear because most of the time the registration numbers have been effaced. For example, uli U8-1 was photographed at the then Museum für Völkerkunde in Berlin shortly before being sold, and the museum’s registration number was removed. The Speyers also obtained duplicates that were never formally accessioned by museums and were immediately sold or traded upon receipt. The Walden-Loeb-Vérité uli, U13-2, is one such example. Another eleven ulis sent by Karl Nauer to Leipzig also were traded out as duplicates against African artworks without having been accessioned, and the same occurred with three ulis sent by Dr. Alfred Georg Stübel to the Museum für Völkerkunde in Dresden. We present here the 231 ulis and four rainmaker figures we have to date been able to identify. We have obtained photo rights for 203 ulis and all these are illustrated. In that process, we aggressively pursued images of all the older ulis from the corpus, and we succeeded with nearly all. For examples where photo rights were unobtainable for whatever reason or the object’s present location could not be determined, we provide whatever information is available. Approximately twenty ulis were identified only as line items in museum registration books, and no further information could be found. These

are mentioned in the catalogue appendices but not in the core listings. It is possible that some may be ulis already in the catalogue for which we have not been able to reconstruct the full history and have been unable to match with a visual reference. Some ulis have disappeared since the 1930s and may have been destroyed during WWII. Herein, ulis are arranged by type following the designations established by Augustin Krämer based upon his 1909 fieldwork. Of these, there are twelve types. Several ulis do not fall within these categories or are marginal members of these groups. If they do not share all the characteristics of a given type, they are listed at the end of the group. One additional category was added for small ulis that have a different ritual use from the larger ones. Finally, four carvings are presented that often are thought to be proto-ulis, i.e., a hermaphrodite-looking body with an overmodelled skull for a head. As discussed elsewhere in these pages, these in fact are not ulis. In each of the categories, the ulis are arranged with the ones that are, in Krämer’s opinion or our opinion, the most representative of the type presented first, in some cases mitigated by the quality of the available photos.

The thick white lime surface that is still in place on this uli shows a dark patina from being exposed to smoke while being stored in the men’s house following the last ceremony in which it was used. The degree of adherence of the remaining lime layer indicates that the pigment most likely was produced using relatively fresh coral, suggesting a coastal origin. Note the remains of the chain-link design between the black line and the remains of the beard. Private collection, Paris. See catalogue U5-3.

Description

ithin the types established by Krämer, each uli is presented with a short description and its dimensions. The description emphasizes details specifically relating to the artefact in question and does not repeat information common to all objects in the category. Nearly all ulis are carved from a single piece of Alstonia scholaris timber. About ten percent of the older ones show signs of having been stone carved, and in cases where we have been able to carefully examine the artefact in person and are able to express a definitive opinion on this point, we do so. If no mention is made of how it was carved, which is the default, this should not be interpreted one way or the other.

U6-1112*

U10

U13

total

Total number

231

Illustrated

203

Not illustrated

* Only two ulis for these classes U6 and U11 have been identified and none for U12. One of these two is included in U13.

153

Above: This uli had a long ritual life before being collected. It was repainted shortly before its collection in 1906 and the eyes were removed and are absent in the 1908 photo of the figure. The fibre beard is well preserved. Remains of the chain-link design are visible at the left. This figure most likely was collected shortly after the last ceremony in which it was presented. Linden-Museum, Stuttgart, inv. 45809. See catalogue U2-1.

Below: Example of patina on the feet, resulting from a combination of exposure to the elements in the ritual hut and to the smoke in the men’s house. Entwistle Gallery, London/Paris. See catalogue U9-2.

After being carved, ulis were partially painted with white lime pigment, ochre from burnt high-ironcontent clay, and charcoal. A thick layer of lime is applied on the face and groin. Over this white layer, the carver has applied a chain-link motif in an organic bright yellow and bright red. The latter two tend to fade quickly with time and exposure to light. The lime layer is fragile and is often damaged if not absent. Indeed, a number of dealers, including the Arthur Speyers, restored or modified artefacts, and this sometimes involved the removal of this thick pigment layer, or what remained of it. We have seen no evidence of attempts to restore such a layer. As such, its presence is, in our opinion, a good indicator to say that this element is original. We specify when it is present. Some large ulis were said to be presented in front of their ritual huts for a period of three moons. Therefore, they are being exposed to the regular rain and humidity, resulting in characteristic wear and patina on the feet. This is clear on a number of examples. In some cases, a layer of soot is present, indicating a period of storage between different ceremonies. After being ritually used and presented in front of their huts, ulis were wrapped up in banana leaves and stored in the rafters of the men’s house. They waited there for the next ceremony, being regularly exposed to smoke. After a few months, the surface would develop a greyish tone, and this would gradually become darker and darker. Some of the older and larger ulis show a deep and encrusted dark patina, while being covered also with fresher pigments, indicating ritual use shortly before being collected. Whatever the case, this dark patina almost certainly means that the uli has been used several times, and it is another important consideration that is specified. Fresh pigments may indicate that the object was either collected just after being carved, presented for just one ceremony, repainted for a ritual shortly before being sold, or repainted because of being sold. One interesting example comes from the group of the twelve evorok-moanu ulis, seven of which

were nicknamed “the black ulis.” These are all very old, with use spanning decades if not more. They probably were used for only the most important ceremonies, with long periods of smoke exposure in between. Nearly all have a thick, dark, sooty patina entirely covering the surface.

NOTES ABOUT RESTORATION Over the past 100 years, some museums and private collectors have engaged in restoration efforts upon ulis. Concerning these, the catalogue text specifies when photos are known before and after restoration. Absence of mention does not mean that the object has not been restored. An interesting example of this is the Wielgus uli (U9-1). In 1908, this early and stone-carved uli was heavily covered with soot and lacked eyes, as shown in the photo Karl von Linden sent to Augustin Krämer. Today it has both pigmentation and eyes, the result of cleaning and restoration commissioned by its former owner, Raymond Wielgus, before he donated it to the Eskenazi Museum in Bloomington. Another case is more extreme. Sometime after 1928, a presumably well-intentioned amateur restorer worked on the Walter Bondy uli (U4-3), another masterpiece from the mid nineteenth century, probably by the same carver as the André Breton uli (U9-3). Photos of the figure from 1909 and 1928 show that it did not really need any restoration. The unfortunate restoration that was visited upon it was partially corrected in the late 1980s. In this case, only the 1909 field photo and the one from the 1928 Bondy sale are used. The same is true for other similar cases. One of the four evorok-moanu ulis was photographed in New Ireland in 1909 and had a sad fate (U13-4). It was in good condition then, save for missing the phallus and one ear, an excellent early uli covered with a thick layer of soot. In July 1970, a photo taken by its owner, Allen Wardwell, showed that it was damaged (broken crest, fingers, ears, and base), reputedly after falling over. In 1980s, the crest, base, and both ears are back. The new ear aside, we do not know if they are original parts glued back into place or re-carved ones. The 1909 photo is used alone for the catalogue entry, as it is the most accurate representation of the sculpture as it was intended by its makers. In as many cases as possible, when old photos have been identified showing the state of an uli shortly after its collection in the field or in the 1920–1930s in a museum, they are presented as part of the catalogue entry. We have found no evidence that any restorer to date has tried to rework the chain-link pattern located on the face and thighs of some uli figures. When present, it is systematically noted in the cat-

Black encrusted patina on the back of an uli.

alogue notes. That said, it is clear that a number of ulis have had their faces “cleaned,” which sometimes involved the removal of the layer of lime pigment in that location. Some ulis, particularly those that passed through the hands of the Speyer dynasty, have their ochre colour reddened more deeply. If a collector or museum wants to be sure that the ochre has not been altered, a mass spectrometer should show the pigment is composed solely of iron-rich clay, without traces of industrial pigment. The analysis of the Neuchâtel uli is a useful reference in this regard (see chapter 6). Some ulis that had enjoyed an earlier ritual life were repainted at the time they were sold. For example, Alfred Bühler photographed an uli in situ, bought it, and then it was repainted and its eyes were put back into place by the local people on the evening of the purchase (U2-23). The uli photographed in situ by Augustin Krämer in Lambu in 1909 also was repainted and had its eyes put back in (U7-4). When we are aware of such information, it is noted the catalogue entries. No mention of this does not indicate that the pigmentation has not been altered. The eyes, consisting of Cypraea tigris sclara with Turbo petholatus pupils and irises, occurred on all uli figures, so their presence or lack thereof is not a subject of the catalogue text. Bühler recorded in 1931 that he had been told that the eyes were removed before the figures were put into storage and were put back in before it was used for the next ceremony. Putting the eyes back into an uli figure should be considered a restoration rather than an alteration, since they were meant to be there.

Louvre Abu Dhabi, inv. 2014.035. See catalogue U9-14.

Dark patina on the back of the head of an uli. Museum Fünf Kontinente, Munich, inv. 13-2-17. See catalogue U9-4.

An evorok-moanu uli entirely covered with an encrusted black patina. Michel Périnet Collection. See catalogue U13-8.

ESTIMATED AGE There have been several age dating estimate attempts for ulis by measuring carbon 14 levels. Based on these, one uli is dated to the seventeenth century (U1-1) and two to the eighteenth century (U4-1 and U13-1). The measurements of the three Komine ulis at Keio University in Tokyo have been inconclusive. A significant number of ulis show several layers of pigment as well as black patina on the back due to long exposure to smoke while being stored, indicating that they were used in a number of ceremonies before being collected. Exposure to smoke in the rafters of the men’s house provided good protection against insects, allowing the sculptures to survive longer than they might otherwise have. Many most likely date to the nineteenth century, which is too recent for C-14 tests to render definitive results, while some likely are eighteenth century but have not yet been tested. Most of the earliest ulis were among the first ones collected. Given the quality of the carving of the corpus of oldest ulis and taking into account the

fact that they have all the attributes found in subsequent examples, it seems likely that this tradition predates the earliest surviving examples and that its genesis lies at least in the seventeenth century and likely earlier. Several ulis have strikingly similar characteristics, and it is possible to identify the hands of individual artists or at least groups of carvers. Though we do not know of them having been used as pairs, some ulis are all but twins. Among these are U918 and U9-19, which are often mistaken for each other in publications. Others are close brothers, such as the two masterpieces U4-1 and U4-2, even though U4-1 likely predates U4-2 by some decades. There are also four ulis that are very similar 155

(U2-7–U2-10), the first two likely being older examples than the other two. A number of those collected by Karl Nauer and those by Count Birger Mörner show carving that is not as powerful as the earlier pieces. Some appear to have been quickly carved and probably were collected shortly after having been painted. Of the twenty-six ulis Nauer sent to Leipzig, eleven were not accessioned but were immediately traded to Gustav Umlauff upon receipt. These reputedly had quite fresh pigments and were duplicates of other uli the museum had received. Indeed, several of the later ulis are almost identical to one another. They were probably carved after the sale of the early ones. This is evident when comparing U2-24–U226 with U2-7 and U2-8. A significant proportion of the ulis collected in 1913–1914 most likely were carved shortly before being acquired. They have all the characteristics, motifs, and pigmentation of other ulis, but they are often very fresh and have no smoke patina. The carving and the painting of these later ulis often is less refined. They may incorporate small variations within the canonical styles, but they still belong to the corpus.

CURIOS, REPLICA, OR FAKE ULIS? It is possible that some of the late ulis collected before the end of 1914 were produced specifically for trade, but there is no proof one way or the other. Thanks to Edgar Walden, we know that Max Thiel commissioned and obtained twenty overmodelled skulls that are now spread throughout public and private collections. In Northern New Ireland, some malagan carvings were produced as curios. Often, to avoid copyright issues with people owning the rights to a certain malagan, the curios were frequently conceived outside the standard motifs and can appear bizarre. Some were sold without having been painted. The Admiralty Islands were particularly prolific in response to market demands, producing a large number of carvings for trade. This is apparent in the Admiralty Islands material collected by Komine and Nauer, to name just two. The Mandak were well aware of the craving by Westerners for ulis, and it was a good way for them to obtain colonial currency to pay the head tax. It is fair to wonder if the quickly carved and freshly painted ulis collected in the final years of the German colony were ever ritually used, but they cannot be distinguished from the ones of this period that were used once, shortly before being collected. Often when significant deviation from traditional motifs is identified, it is due to errors made in later restoration work done in Europe. Only one commissioned uli was documented in Mandak country. Krämer asked the carver Lakam from Konombin to demonstrate the carving of an 156

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Catalogue

Raisonné

uli. This took place March 26–27, 1909. Krämer took two photos and recorded Lakam singing and loading it with magic. This unfinished uli (U1-19) is in the collection of the Etnografische Museum of Berlin. It was never used ritually, but Lakam cast the appropriate magical spells while carving it. There are at least two older replica or fake ulis, and it is worth mentioning them here. French painter Maurice de Vlaminck had a keen interest in Oceanic art. In his collection at some point he had an authentic uli (the Gradiva uli, U2-8) and two replica ones. The first replica was carved after a photo of the Walter Bondy uli (U4-3) and was photographed with de Vlaminck in his studio in the 1930s. An old photo taken in the studio of a prestigious artist usually is useful for establishing solid provenance, but here the piece in question clearly is a poor replica.2 Another uli was carved in ebony after the André Breton uli (U1-2).3 It was probably based on the photo from the 1930 Roland Tual auction. Both sculptures are so wrong in their wood, volume, carving, motifs, and pigments that it is impossible not to flag them immediately as carvings made outside New Ireland—far outside. The most amusing part is to realize, while counting the multiple mistakes, that the carvers most likely had never seen an uli in the flesh and were relying on photos alone. Nevertheless, these show the importance of ulis in the minds of 1930s artists. Recent replicas of ulis have been carved in New Ireland, but they were not intended to deceive and therefore are considered replicas. Only when a replica is presented as an authentic uli on the market, claiming it was made and used traditionally by the Mandak people, does it become classified as a fake. We have yet to document such a case.

Collection and Historical Information: Collection Dates

he majority of ulis were collected over a very short period of time, spanning from 1904 to 1909. It is remarkable that most of the sculptures composing the corpus of these iconic Oceanic art objects left New Ireland in just five years. Certainly, this was directly linked to the deep transformation relating to the indigenous Neu-Mecklenburg communities being relocated to the coast near the road built under the auspices of colonial administrator Franz Boluminski. This took place in Mandak country around 1904– 1905. In late January 1909, people in the village of Konombin were reluctant to speak about ulis with Misterfeldt when he visited. Krämer had difficulty obtaining information in Lamasong and Panakon-

Ulis

Map showing villages in Mandak country where ulis were collected. Cartography by the author.

List of the twenty-five identified collectors, along with the number of ulis we are attributing to each of them to date, as described in the catalogue raisonné: Capt. Karl Nauer (27) Franz Boluminski (26) Komine Isokichi (15) Georg Frederici (12) Edgar Walden (10) Wilhelm Wostrack (9) Count Birger Mörner (7) Carl Misterfeldt (5) Alfred Georg Stübel (5) Judge Kornmajer (4) Max Thiel (4) Otto Bruckner (2) Alfred Bühler (2) Albert Hahl (2) Elsie and Ernst Hoff (2) Arthur Krockenberger (2) Franz Wiesner (2) Gottsdanker (1) Capt. Oskar Häsner (1) Franz Hellwig (1) Augustin Krämer (1) Emil Nolde (1) Scharf (1) Eugen Schroder (1) Captain Werber (1)

do in 1909, and he failed to meet Kanambilang, the carver he wanted to see in Kontu. There was another small burst of uli collecting in 1913–1914, but a large number of these show carving that is less refined, paint that is fresh, and no sooty patina, suggesting they were collected shortly after being carved. The earliest collected uli entered the collection of the Macleay family in Sydney in 1875 (U13-13). It was acquired along with some Barok stone figures, suggesting it may have originated in the southern part of Mandak country, but we have no further information. The latest were collected by Alfred Bühler in 1931 in the villages of Malom (U2-23 and U3-7) and Konos (U10-13). Bühler saw at least eight ulis but bought only two, because either they were too expensive, too damaged, or reserved for a forthcoming ceremony. Reputedly, in the 1930s, under the growing pressure of the missionaries, the last ulis from the Lamasong area were taken to a cave.4 Brigitte Derlon heard from her informants that when the Japanese arrived on the Lelet Plateau during the Second World War, some villagers flew into the bush carrying uli figures with them.5 Bruno, of the Kebo clan, described to us his initiation and the last uli ceremony held at the Konombin ritual site in the late 1940s. He received the right to use a lembankakat lavatlas uli figure during the rites for his chief, Tutu. This ceremony was the last one of its kind held in Konombin. Thus, uli rituals completely disappeared in the late 1940s. Nowadays, Mandak elders identify ulis as malagan or as ealik, and almost never use the word uli. Following the disappearance of the ulis, there was a resurgence of malagan rituals in the middle of the twentieth century, but this too has entirely disappeared.

ULI FIELD COLLECTORS Twenty-five field collectors have been identified, who collectively sourced 144 ulis. This represents more than half of the corpus. Nauer was far more prolific than this list suggests. He actually collected at least forty-three ulis, but we have been able to identify only twenty-seven of these with certainty. We have tracked five ulis to Dr. Stübel, but he sent nine to the museum in Dresden. We know that the planter Arthur Krock enberger had at least three, but we have been able to locate only two. There are two main sources for further research about uli provenance. Since the archives of the Etnografische Museum in Berlin have been closed for five years at the time of the publication of this book, our research there relied upon help from the museum’s director and archivist. However, we were not able to go as deep as we did for Munich and Stuttgart. Another interest-

ing resource is the Umlauff archives. Can the eleven Nauer ulis art dealer Umlauff acquired from the museum in Leipzig be identified, and were some of them part of the 1926 deal he made with Alfred Flechtheim for eight carvings featured in the latter’s 1926 exhibition?

VILLAGE PROVENANCE Mandak country is small. Fewer than 50 kilometres separate Lamasong on the east coast in the north and Lemeris to the south on the same coast. The region is about 20 kilometres at its widest point at the Lelet Plateau. Whether along the coast or in the hills, villages there were often composed of several hamlets interconnected by tracks. Before

colonial times, a number of villages were distributed in the hills, a few hours walk from the shores where other communities were located. For example, it would take only five hours to walk from Tembin on the west coast north to Konombin in the island’s centre, with several hamlets along the track. From there, Lamasong is only two more hours down-hill towards the coast. Inland, Konos is about two hours to the north-east of Konombin, while Tegerot is about three hours to the southwest, higher up in the hills. Many small hamlets are scattered in the hills, and a number of remains of men’s houses and rain-magic groves can still be seen there today. Fortunately, since uli figures were already rare and sought after in the early twentieth century, there is a wealth of documentary information in the German diaries, correspondence, museum registries, and associated documentation. Given this, it is important to remember that “collected in the village of Konos” means only that the object was collected there. It could have been carved and used in another village then traded during a ceremony or looted during inter-village warfare. Moreover, it could have been brought there specifically so it could be acquired by Europeans. Indeed, in a February 1908 entry in Walden’s diary, we learn that Boluminski sent messages to central New 157

Ireland asking people to bring ulis down to the coast so that he could buy them during his inspection tours. Several ulis were then collected in Konos and Lemau on February 16–17. Are they from these villages, or were they brought there for pickup by Boluminski and Walden? There is no way to know. However, the ulis likely came from nearby villages that maintained good relations with the collecting location, since the person bringing the uli would need to be safe while waiting for the colonial administrator to arrive in the village serving as the collecting hub. We know that for a 1905 ceremony in Lamasong, ulis were obtained from inland Konos. In some cases, they were sent back, having effectively been on loan for the duration of the ceremony. Table specifying the villages of the sixty-five ulis for which we have collection information.

Village

Ulis

Total

Konos

U3-5, U7-3, U10-13, U13-1

Konombin

U1-19, U3-8, U7-7, U8-1, U9-18, U9-19, U13-11

Tegerot

U1-1, U5-12, U8-18, U8-28

Konombin/ Tegerot/ Panakondo

U2-2, U4-5, U7-8, U9-20

Panakondo

U4-4, U7-11, U7-13, U13-2, U13-3, U13-4, U13-15

Katendan/ Panakondo

U1-4, U1-26, U2-3, U2-4, U2-11, U2-28, U2-30, U2–36, U7-9, U9-33, U10-15

Katendan

U2-6, U10-6, U10-12

Malom

U2-6, U10-6, U10-12

Lassigi

U2-1, U3-1, U8-17+ (R1, R2)

3+(2)

Kandan

U1-15

Levinko

U3-2

Lemau

U4-1, U5-4, U9-14, U10-7

Lambu

U7-4

Mesi

U1-23, U2-19, U5-7, U5-22, U5-28, U5-29, U5-30, U7-17, U8-24, U9-9, U10-16

65+(2)

Boluminski, the colonial administrator based in Kavieng, was one of the first collectors. He acquired masterpieces early on in the northern part of Mandak country. He was not interested in the culture and its traditions, and he did not record provenance information with any precision. Nevertheless, in some cases he did note the village or at least a vague village indication such as Konombin/ Tegerot, two villages a few hours’ walk apart. Boluminski collected mostly in the northern part of Mandak country, leaving the south to the second colonial administrator, Wilhelm Wostrack. It was only around 1910 that Boluminski reported obtaining some ulis in southern Mandak country. 158

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Catalogue

Raisonné

Ulis

Based to the south in Namatanai, Wostrack had genuine interest in the culture and he carefully documented the ulis, skulls, and malagan he collected. The notes he provided to the Linden-Museum are excellent. He collected mostly in the southern part of Mandak country. Augustin and Elisabeth Krämer observed an uli in its hut on the afternoon of March 9, 1909, in Lambu. Their photograph of it in situ is the only known photo of an uli in its hut on a ceremonial site. Thanks to the field notes, we also know the name of the carver, who was from the same village, as well as the ceremony it was used for. Krämer also questioned people about ulis collected a few years earlier and sent to the Linden-Museum in Stuttgart. His notes with this detailed information often have the name of the carver, his village of origin, and the place the uli was acquired. His careful approach resulted in some ambiguity for some ulis, since Krämer recorded contradicting information from his several informants, leading to the attribution of several carvers to a single uli. Edgar Walden was cautious in his collecting efforts and provided important documentation. Thanks to him, we have collection dates and the villages of origin for a number of ulis. Eleven ulis collected by Karl Nauer are supposedly from Mesi, on the south-west coast of the Mandak region. We know from his letters that he had left people there with the mission to assemble ulis for when he would return aboard the S.M.S. Sumatra. While uli rituals were conducted on the west coast, it was less populated than the east coast. Therefore, these ulis could indeed have come from villages near Mesi, but they just as likely could have come from further away, even from the Lelet Plateau. It takes only eight hours to walk from Lelet to Mesi. We do not have village provenance documentation for Komine Isokichi. All the ulis currently at the Field Museum and bought by Lewis from Komine reputedly are from inland villages between Katendan and Panakondo, but there are no further details. According to Toru Yamaguchi,6 there are no known notes or diaries documenting Komine’s collecting. We know that Komine was a close acquaintance of governor Albert Hahl and an old friend of Wilhelm Wostrack, and they must have been instrumental in triggering his interest in ethnographic material. Wostrack sailed a number of times with Komine along the coast of New Ireland. Did they collect together at some point? We know that Boluminski was quite upset about the collecting “raids” by Komine in Mandak country and that he took measures to prevent the Japanese trader from getting more artefacts. This suggests that Komine was operating within Boluminski’s area of

influence in the northern part of Mandak country. As such, Komine’s ulis cautiously can be thought to have come from the area from Panakondo to Katendan. The evidence is not as strong as for material from other collectors such as Wostrack or Walden.

Provenance, Publications, and Exhibitions

he most important provenance information relates to the collection of the object: Who collected it, when, and where. We have checked this information in museum archives and in old correspondence. If records were found indicating that an uli had been sold or traded by a museum, this information is stated in the catalogue entries. If we were not able to confirm the provenance information about the circumstances of field collection, the term “reputedly” is used. When the details of field collection are unknown, the first line of the provenance section in the catalogue entry starts with “<…>.” From the circumstances of field collecting, we have often been able to reconstruct the provenance of ulis in private collections, dealers’ inventories, or auction house offerings, all linking them back to their original collector and first owner. As an example, uli U2-5, currently in the collection of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, was known to have gone through the collection of John Friede and then the MASCO Corporation collection before being sold to the museum via a private Sotheby’s transaction. Reputedly it was originally in the collection of the Linden-Museum in Stuttgart, collected in 1906. It was not. Its inventory numbers had been erased, but we are now certain that it is inventory number 501i from the former Museum für Völkerkunde in Hamburg, which was published in 1925 and 1929 in the journal Cahiers d’art. It was bought in the early 1960s by dealer Louis Lemaire of Amsterdam, resided in the private collection of Jan Wolkers in the 1970s, then changed hands several times before being acquired by Friede and ending up in Los Angeles. We have been able to do this research in depth at the museums of Munich, Stuttgart, Leipzig, Mann heim, and Hamburg. Since the archives of Berlin have been closed for the past five years, this is certainly the next place to check for information that is still missing. Provenance research is complicated by the fact that some people cooked up provenance stories, since on the art market, the most desirable authentic objects necessarily must be older, and provenance helps establish this. Ralph Nash was particularly creative in this regard. He sold a superb

uli (U4-1) to a private collector, accompanied by a total fantasy starting with an impossible collection date in the 1860s. Did Arthur Speyer III relate this tall tale to Nash during the transaction in which the piece changed hands, or did the latter spin it himself? We don’t know, but it certainly was not needed to secure the sale of this old and superb uli. Thanks to its current custodian and a bit of image processing, we have been able to reconstruct the almost erased registry number and then rebuild the real provenance, and we are happy to return the true history to this masterpiece. The chain of ownership of individual ulis, especially when they change hands between private collectors, presents an additional challenge, and so at times is necessarily incomplete. What is present in the catalogue entries is indicative of this situation. For this kind of information, we have had to rely on what is available, what we have been told, and what can be said. Some collectors prefer to remain anonymous, and, of course, identities are not revealed without authorization. The catalogue entries conclude with a list of selected publications in which the given uli appears. These lists are not comprehensive. They include ulis presented in important exhibitions, such as the 1926 one by Alfred Flechtheim; the legendary Galerie Pigalle in 1930; the 1984 “Primitivism” in 20th Century Art: Affinity of the Tribal and the Modern at MoMA in New York; New Ireland: Art of the Pacific in Saint Louis, Paris, and Berlin in 2006–2007; and Visual Encounters at the Beyeler Foundation in 2009, to name just a few. Given the more than 100 years that these objects have been in Western collections, the publications list cannot be exhaustive, but those that seem to be the most emblematic placements are highlighted.

ENDNOTES: 1. Three generations of German art dealers: Arthur Speyer I (1858–1923), Arthur Speyer II (1894–1958), and Arthur Speyer III (1922–2007). See Schultz, 2016: 5–8. 2. This sculpture appeared a few years ago on the market and did not sell. It was then put at auction in October 2014 as “Important uli figure, Collection of M. de Vlaminck, c. 1890.” It sold and its current whereabouts are unknown. A better description would have been “Replica of the Walter Bondy uli once owned by M. de Vlaminck.” 3. Currently owned by Anthony J.-P. Meyer, who knew exactly what it was when he bought it. Though not authentic, it serves an educational purpose and it is also part of the history of M. de Vlaminck and Paris of the 1930s. It shows that Vlaminck deeply coveted the Roland Tual uli, as did André Breton. 4. Hermann, in Wick et al., 2009. 5. Brigitte Derlon, private communication, and Derlon, 1997. 6. Personal communication, 2019. 159

Uli TYPE 1

selambungin sonondos

is the first uli type described by Augustin Krämer in his field diary, reflecting the discussions he had with his informants. He observed, “sonondos means simple, without adornment, arms dangling. Only one central rod.” The latter refers to the vertical element that runs from under the chin to the lower waist belt of the figure. This rod is reminiscent of the spear used to hold the head of a deceased in place during his presentation on a death chair within the ritual enclosure before his funeral. It is also a common element in malagan figures. We identified twentyeight ulis of this type and illustrate here twenty-four of them. Their sizes range between 90 and 158 centimetres. They all have a rod in the back for being carried, presented, or fixed to a pole at the entrance of the uli hut. These figures are free-standing and could also be presented on the ceremonial bench of an uli hut. Seven of these ulis have village provenance: Two are from Panakondo/Katendan and one each from Tegerot, Kandan, Lamasong, and Mesi. Eleven have identified collectors. Karl Nauer collected four and Franz Boluminski and Ernst Hoff two each. Wilhelm Wostrack, Edgar Walden, Oskar Häsner, the crew of S.M.S. Planet, and Count Birger Mörner each collected one. In addition to these twenty-eight selambungin sonondos, it should be noted that twelve out of the fourteen of the small ulis known as evorok-moanu (see uli type 13) are also classified as the selambungin sonondos type. elambungin sonondos

Village provenance for uli type 1, selambungin sonondos. - In red, villages in Mandak country where selambungin sonondos were collected. - In black, villages in Mandak country where ulis of other types were collected. - In grey, villages in Mandak country where no ulis were collected. Cartography by the author.

Uli. Collected by Edgar Walden, probably in the beach settlement of Tegerot, Central New Ireland, 1908. Ana and Antonio Casanovas Collection. See catalogue U1-1.

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161

catalogue raisonné

U1-1 THE GEORGES DE MIRÉ ULI

Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. Dense wood. C-14 dated to the seventeenth century. This is likely the oldest uli of the corpus. Dynamic and powerful carving, dark and deep patina. 98 cm. HISTORY Collected by Edgar Walden, probably in the beach settlement of Tegerot (2 kilometres from the expedition base camp), in November–December 1908. Loaned by Georges de Miré to the Galerie du Théatre Pigalle exhibition in 1930. Photographed there by members of the Société Excursionnistes. Illustrated in an article in L’Art Vivant about the Galerie du Théatre Pigalle. PROVENANCE Edgar Walden, collected in Tegerot, late 1908; Museum für Völkerkunde, Berlin, 1910, inv. VI 34272; Bought by or traded to Arthur Speyer, 1925; Georges de Miré, Paris; Hôtel Drouot, Sculptures d’Afrique, d’Amérique, d’Océanie, 7 May 1931, lot 144; <…> Serge and Graziella Brignoni, Lugano; G. L. Spinosa, Geneva. Ana and Antonio Casanovas Collection. PUBLICATIONS Marquetty, 1930. Théatre Pigalle, Exposition d’art africain et d’art Océanien, no. 354. L’Art Vivant, 2: 30, 15 March 1930, p. 232, no. 126. Hôtel Drouot, Vente de sculptures d’Afrique, d’Amérique, d’Océanie, 7 May 1931, lot 144. Muensterberger, 1955. Sculpture of Primitive Man, pl. 92. Musée de l’Homme, 1967. Arts primitifs dans les ateliers d’artistes, pl. 148. Gifford, 1974. “The Iconology of the Uli Figure of Central New Ireland,” no. 113. Gianinazzi and Giordano, 1989. Culture Extraeuropee: Collezione Serge e Graziella Brignoni, p. 275, no. 410. Valluet, 1991. “Uli, La Grande Cérémonie,” Primitifs 6, p. 39. Wick, et al., Fondation Beyeler, 2009. Visual Encounters: Africa, Oceania, and Modern Art, fig. 8. Casanovas, 2009. Hors serie, no. 1, p. 44, fig. 38. Casanovas, 2014. ADAM: AnalogDigital-Ancient-Masters. Hourdé and Rolland, 2018. Galerie Pigalle: Afrique, Oceanie, 1930.

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163

U1-2 THE ANDRÉ BRETON ULI

Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. Pre-1921 photo in Leipzig archive showing a condition very close to today’s. Inagaki base. Old auction label number 218 behind the right foot. 125 cm. Stylistically very close to four other ulis (U9-2, U9-3, U3-8, U4-4), possibly by the same carver or group of carvers. HISTORY Collected by Franz Boluminski and sent to the Leipzig museum in 1910. Acquired by Julius Konietzko in 1921 and in the collection of Roland Tual until 1930. Exhibited in 1948 at Galerie André Olive, with a poem written by André Breton. Breton had coveted this uli since the 1930s. After selling the de Chirico painting Le Cerveau de l’enfant, Breton was able to acquire it in 1964, two years before his death. It was the most important tribal art object in the Breton Collection. When the collection was dispersed, it went to auction in 2003, and Breton’s heirs bought it in order to donate it to the Bibliothèque littéraire Jacques Doucet. Stylistically very close to four other ulis, possibly by the same carver or group of carvers (U9-2, U9-3, U3-8, U4-4). No direct collecting village information, but possibly from Tegerot/Panakondo area. PROVENANCE Franz Boluminski, collected before 1910; Museum für Völkerkunde, Leipzig, 1910, inv. Me 9763; Julius Konietzko, purchased 20 October 1921; Roland Tual Collection; Étude Lair-Dubreuil (expert André Portier), Paris, 9–11 February 1930, no. 33, plate 1; <…> André Breton Collection, acquired 1964; Calmels Cohen, André Breton: 42 rue Fontaine, 7–17 April 2003; Aube and Oona Elléouët, acquired 2003; Bibliothèque littéraire Jacques Doucet, by donation, 2003. Centre Georges Pompidou, Paris, since 2015. PUBLICATIONS Referenced as number 1 in Augustin Krämer’s field diary, 1909. Krämer, 1925. Die Málanggane von Tombára, pl. 29. Fischer, 1929. “L’art dans les mers du sud,” Cahiers d’Art, fig. 62. Hôtel Drouot, 1930. Roland Tual, 9–11 February. Galerie Andrée Olive, Océanie, 1948, no. 21, with a poem by André Breton. Gifford, 1974. “The Iconology of the Uli Figure of Central New Ireland,” no. 135. William Rubin, 1984. “Primitivism” in 20th Century Art: Affinity of the Tribal and the Modern, p. 113. Musée National d’Art Moderne – Centre Georges Pompidou, 1991. André Breton, la beauté convulsive, p. 428. Valluet, 1991. “Uli. La Grande Cérémonie,” Primitifs 6, p. 45. Nationalgalerie, Berlin, 1993. Wege der Moderne: Die Sammlung Beyeler, pp. 246, 281, no. 140. Meyer, 1995. Oceanic Art, p. 352, fig. 386. Beyeler, 1997. Fondation Beyeler, pp. 261–262, no. 142. Calmels Cohen, 2003. André Breton: 42 rue Fontaine, 17 April, no. 6130. Le Fur (ed.), 2006. D’un regard l’autre, Histoire des regards européens sur l’Afrique, l’Amérique, et l’Océanie, pp. 312–313. Viatte, 2006. Tu fais peur tu émerveilles, Musée du Quai Branly, acquisitions 1998/2005, p. 43. Musée de Cahors Henri-Martin, 2014. La Maison de verre André Breton initiateur découvreur, pp. 96–98.

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U1-3 THE OSKAR HÄSNER ULI

Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. Powerfully built. Cited several times as a reference by Augustin Krämer when describing this type of uli. 139 cm. HISTORY Oskar Häsner, an agent for Norddeutscher Lloyd, sent this uli to the Bremen museum in 1906. This was almost certainly the result of the one-week visit by Hugo Schauinsland, director of the Bremen museum, in early 1906. No precise village collection information, but possibly from the west coast of Mandak country, Lambu/Kontu. Stylistically very close to a group of nine ulis, possibly same carver/group of carvers. PROVENANCE Oskar Häsner, collected before 1906; Übersee-Museum, Bremen, 1906, inv. D 9938; Walter Kaiser, Stuttgart, after 1974; Eberhard Rist, Stuttgart; Private collection; Charles-Wesley Hourdé, Paris, 2017. Private collection. PUBLICATIONS Krämer, 1925. Die Málanggane von Tombára, pl. 25 (left). Gifford, 1974. “The Iconology of the Uli Figure of Central New Ireland,” no. 49. Schindlbeck, 2012. Gefunden und verloren, pp. 109, 113. Beaulieu, 2018. “Realm of the Ancestors,” TEFAF Showcase, Charles-Wesley Hourdé.

165

U1-4 Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. Powerful build. Handle broken on back. Possibly stone carved. Yellow and red chain-link pattern around perimeter of face. White lime pigment flaking. 123 cm. HISTORY Collected by Komine Isokichi and acquired on 23 June 1913 by A. B. Lewis for the Field Museum. Registration notes: “New Ireland, about 50 miles north of Namatanai, between Katendan and Panakondo, in the interior.” PROVENANCE Komine Isokichi, probably collected around 1906. Field Museum, Chicago, 1913, inv. 138795). PUBLICATION Gifford, 1974. “The Iconology of the Uli Figure of Central New Ireland,” no. 95.

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U1-5 Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. A large and early uli figure with prominent crest, unique in that it stands on a large oval base, reminiscent of the small evorok-moanu ulis that were presented atop a tepee-like hut. 158 cm. HISTORY Unknown. PROVENANCE <…> Hans Franke estate, Berlin. Ethnologisches Museum, Berlin, acquired in 1969, inv. VI 55022. PUBLICATIONS Gifford, 1974. “The Iconology of the Uli Figure of Central New Ireland,” no. 111. Kaeppler, Kaufmann, and Newton, 1997. Oceanic Art, p. 463, pl. 534. Gunn and Peltier, 2006. New Ireland, Art of the South Pacific, pl. 55. Schindlbeck, 2012. Gefunden und verloren, pp. 128.

FIG. XX: Image V6900 from the Australian Museum

167

U1-6 Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. Arms at sides. Vivid red pigments on the breast. The crest, arms, and hair are most likely replacements. 137 cm. HISTORY Collection information unknown. One of the three Clausmeyer ulis given to Cologne. The other two (U76 and U8-9) were collected by Franz Boluminski and were owned by the Munich museum until sold to Ludwig Bretschneider. There is no record of this uli in the Munich collection. PROVENANCE <…> Klaus Clausmeyer; Rautenstrauch-Joest-Museum, Cologne, inv. 48240; Deacquisitioned by trade to Ludwig Bretschneider, Munich, June 1967; Robert Stolper & Morton Lipkin, London. Dallas Museum of Art, 1975, inv. 1975.14. PUBLICATIONS Gifford, 1974. “The Iconology of the Uli Figure of Central New Ireland,” no. 13. Stöhr, 1987. Kunst und Kultur aus der Südsee: Sammlung Clausmeyer Melanesien, p. 366.

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U1-7 THE BARBIER-MUELLER ULI

Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. An early uli, quite close in style to the U13-13 from the Macleay Collection, which was collected in 1875 or before. Very fine carving, deep patina. Obviously had a long ritual life before being collected. 90 cm. HISTORY Unknown. PROVENANCE <...> Arthur Speyer, Berlin; Serge Brignoni, Bern; Charles Ratton, Paris; Jay C. Leff, Uniontown, PA; Parke-Bernet, New York, Primitive Art & Antiquities, 4 October 1969, lot 112. Musée Barbier-Mueller, Geneva, inv. BMG 4313. PUBLICATIONS Parke-Bernet, New York, Primitive Art & Antiquities, 4 October 1969, lot 112, pp. 46–47. Gifford, 1974. “The Iconology of the Uli Figure of Central New Ireland,” no. 127. Gifford, 1979. “Uli Figures,” Connaissance des arts tribaux 1, 1–4. Newton and Waterfield, 1995. Tribal Sculpture, pp. 310-311. Gunn, 1997. Arts rituels d’Océanie: Nouvelle-Irlande, pp. 88–91, pl. 11. Wick, et al., Fondation Beyeler, 2009. Visual Encounters: Africa, Oceania, and Modern Art, fig. 7.

169

U1-8 Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. 110 cm. HISTORY Reputedly collected by a botanist prior to 1914. PROVENANCE <…> Rene Vanderstraete, Belgium. PUBLICATIONS Gifford, 1974. “The Iconology of the Uli Figure of Central New Ireland,” no. 130. Bounoure, 1992. Vision d’Océanie, p. 151.

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Elsie and Ernst Adelbert Hoff in Kapsu, near Kavieng, on 26 June 1920. Courtesy Karl Baumann, private collection.

Two Ulis for the Prague Museum: Elsie and Ernst Adelbert Hoff

rnst Adelbert Hoff was an assistant on the plantation Maulapao owned by the Forsayth Company near Kavieng beginning in 1907. He then became the owner of the 864-hectare Kolube plantation on the west coast. This was in the heart of Mandak country, about seven kilometres south of Lambu. He lived there with his wife, Elsie, and the couple had parrots and pet monkeys. Two particular anecdotes about the Hoffs are remembered: Ernst escaped poisoning by locals because his monkeys refused to eat the bananas that had been given to him. This raised suspicion, and it turned out that they were actually poisoned. On another occasion, a monkey broke the neck of Elsie’s favourite parrot right in front of her eyes.

The Hoffs owned a motorboat named after Elsie, as well as one of the first cars to drive on the NeuMecklenburg roads. They had planned to leave their property in the care of a manager, but their plantation was expropriated and they were deported by order of the post-war Australian government on 23 March 1921. On 25 February 1925, Elsie Hoff, by then living in Berlin, gave 118 artefacts to the museum in Prague. These were mostly from Admiralty Islands and New Guinea and included two ulis (presented here as U1-10 and U1-9) as well as at least one malagan figure.

Elsie and Ernst Hoff with their car, 1920. Photo courtesy of Karl Baumann.

171

U1-9 Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. 95 cm. HISTORY Collected by Elsie and Ernst Adelbert Hoff of Kolube plantation in New Ireland, before 1920. Living in Berlin, Elsie Hoff donated 118 objects to the Náprstkovo Muzeum in Prague in 1925. These included two ulis, this example, designated as inv. 22772, and U1-10. PROVENANCE Elsie and Ernst Hoff, collected before 1920; Náprstkovo Muzeum, Prague, 1925, inv. 22772; <…> Klever Collection, Munich; Sotheby’s, Paris, 12 May 2007, lot 124; Molloy and Nasser, New York. Private collection.

172

U1-10 Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. No crest, arms at side. Unusual splayed fingers. Traces of Reckitt’s blue over the black pigment, particularly on the chest. Red and yellow chain-link design along the beard and red pigments around the mouth and on the chin. 122 cm. HISTORY Collected by Elsie and Ernst Adelbert Hoff of Kolube plantation in New Ireland, before 1920. Living in Berlin, Elsie Hoff donated 118 objects to the Náprstkovo Muzeum in Prague in 1925. These included two ulis, this example, designated as inv. 22771, and U1-9. Acquired by the dealer Willi Hoogstraat of Amsterdam on 24 March 1967. PROVENANCE Elsie and Ernst Hoff, collected before 1920; Náprstkovo Muzeum, Prague, 1925, inv. 22771; Willi Hoogstraat, Amsterdam, 1967; <…> Private collection; Christie’s, New York, 16 November 1995, lot 36. Sue and Don Dugan Collection. PUBLICATIONS Bühler and Gabus, 1970. Art Océanien, p. 89, no. 1292. Christie’s, New York, 16 November 1995, lot 36.

173

U1-11 Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. 96 cm. HISTORY Unknown. PROVENANCE <…> Dr. Charles Maillant, né Mayer (1898–1993), Neuilly-sur-Seine; Maurice Bonnefoi, before 1970; Dr. Karl-Ferdinand Schädler, Munich; Loudmer, Paris, Arts Primitifs, 30 June 1994, lot 485; Private collection; Christie’s, Amsterdam, 11 December 2001, lot 241; Private collection. Patrick Fröhlich, Zurich. PUBLICATIONS Bühler and Gabus, 1970. Art Océanien, no. 1732. Loudmer, Paris, Arts Primitifs, 30 June 1994, lot 485. Christie’s, Amsterdam, Tribal Art, 11 December 2001, lot 241.

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U1-13 Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. Unusual crest. White dots on the black war paint of the face. Red and yellow chainlink design along the beard and remains of vivid yellow pigments on the thighs. Unusual splayed fingers. 106 cm. HISTORY Collected by Karl Nauer. Accession in Munich, 1912, and deaccessioned through trade on 9 April 1951 to Ludwig Bretschneider, together with ulis U1-18 and U1-12 and five other objects. The value estimated at the time was 1000 DM. PROVENANCE Karl Nauer, before 1912; Museum für Völkerkunde, Munich, 1912, inv. 12-21-148; Ludwig Bretschneider, Munich, 1951; <…> Julius Carlebach, New York; John and Monica Haley, San Francisco. Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco, Haley donation, 22 December 1988, 1988.41. PUBLICATION Gifford, 1974. “The Iconology of the Uli Figure of Central New Ireland,” no. 122.

U1-12 Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. 98 cm. HISTORY Collected by Karl Nauer. Accession in Munich, 1912, and deaccessioned through trade on 9 April 1951 to Ludwig Bretschneider, together with ulis U1-18 and U1-13 and five other objects. The value estimated at the time was 1000 DM. Munich bought it back at auction in 2006. PROVENANCE Karl Nauer before 1912; Museum für Völkerkunde, Munich, 1912, inv. 12-21-145; Ludwig Bretschneider, Munich, 1951; Julius Carlebach, New York; Private collection; Sotheby’s, New York, 17 November 2006, lot 238. Museum Fünf Kontinente, Munich, inv. 06-328 272. PUBLICATION Gifford, 1974. “The Iconology of the Uli Figure of Central New Ireland,” no. 111.

175

U1-14 Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. 108 cm. HISTORY Collected during the voyage of the S.M.S. Planet in 1907. PROVENANCE S.M.S. Planet, collected 1907; Museum für Völkerkunde, Berlin, 1907, inv, VI 27290; <…> J. J. Klejman, New York; Alan Wurtzburger, Stevenson, MD. Baltimore Museum of Art, 1955, Wurtzburger donation, inv. 1955.251.15. PUBLICATIONS Baltimore Museum of Art, 1956. The Alan Wurtzburger Collection of Oceanic Art, p. 23, no. 15. Gifford, 1974. “The Iconology of the Uli Figure of Central New Ireland,” no. 101.

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U1-15 Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. Unique crest design. Remains of white lime pigment flaking on the face. 105 cm. HISTORY Collected by Wilhelm Wostrack in Katendan village. Donated with ninety-eight other artefacts to the Linden-Museum in 1908, where it was accessioned on 26 February 1908. PROVENANCE Wilhelm Wostrack, collected in Katendan, before 1908; Linden-Museum, Stuttgart, 1908, inv. 55688; <…> Tajan, Paris, 1990, lot 20. Private collection, Belgium. PUBLICATION Gifford, 1974. “The Iconology of the Uli Figure of Central New Ireland,” no. 122.

177

U1-19

U1-18 Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. A large example. 140 cm.

U1-17

U1-16 Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. 106 cm. HISTORY Collected by Karl Nauer in the village of Lamasong. Donated to the Leipzig museum, then bought by Rassiga in 1986.

Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. Traces of yellow pigment and chain-link design on the face. 101 cm. HISTORY Collected by Karl Nauer. PROVENANCE Karl Nauer, before 1912; Museum für Völkerkunde, Munich, 1912, inv. 12-21-146; Deaccessioned by trade on 9 April 1951 with Erich Bretschneider together with U1-12, U1-13, and six other objects. Estimated value at the time 1,000 DM; Samuel Dubiner, Tel Aviv, 1961; Sotheby’s, New York, 18 May 1992, lot 64.

PROVENANCE Karl Nauer, before 1913; Grassi Museum für Völkerkunde, Leipzig, 1913, inv. Me 10890; Rassiga 1986; <…> Tambaran Gallery, New York; <…>. Honolulu Museum of Art, inv. HAA 6032.1.

Private collection. PUBLICATION Sotheby’s, New York, 18 May 1992, lot 64.

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ULI

TYPE

HISTORY Collected by Franz Boluminski and sent to Munich by Frieda Boluminski shortly after his death in 1913. PROVENANCE Franz Boluminski, before 1913; Museum für Völkerkunde, Munich, 1913, inv. 13-77-9; Deaccessioned by trade in 1942 with Erich Bretschneider; <…> Private collection; <…> Sotheby’s, London, 23 June, 1981; <...> Loudmer, Paris, Arts Primitifs, 11 December 1993, lot 61. Private collection. PUBLICATION Musée d’Ethnographie de Neuchatel, 1970. Art Océanien, no. 1292, p. 89.

Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. Carved by Lakam and Lambaneis in Lamasong to demonstrate uli carving techniques. No pigment. 106 cm. HISTORY Carved by Lakam from Konombin with the assistance of Lambaneis on 26 March 1909. Augustin Krämer took two photos and recorded two songs during the process. The first song was to make the carving beautiful, and Lakam pronounced the sacred and secret name of ulis, which is ealik. The second song was a war song meant to load the carving with war magic. These recordings were played to Bruno, leader of the Kebo clan and landowner of Konombin, in November 2018. PROVENANCE Carved by Lakam and Lambaneis, Lamasong, 1909; Collected by Augustin Krämer and Edgar Walden, 1909. Ethnologisches Museum, Berlin, inv. VI NIs 789. PUBLICATION Valluet, 1991. “Uli, La Grande Cérémonie,” Primitifs 6, p. 36.

U1-23

Static frame, remains of beard, good pigmentation. 94 cm.

HISTORY Field collected by Karl Nauer in Mesi.

HISTORY Field collected by Komine Isokichi, “between Katendan and Panakondo, in the interior.”

PROVENANCE Karl Nauer, Mesi. Grassi Museum für Völkerkunde, Leipzig, 1913, inv. Me 10896. ———

U1-21 Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. C. 130 cm. HISTORY No collection information. Reputed to have been donated by a Mr. Stewart, probably in the early 20th century.

U1-20 Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. No pigments ever applied. 87 cm.

U1-26

Static frame. Head restored after damage during WWII. 141 cm.

PROVENANCE Komine Isokichi, probably before 1906. Field Museum, Chicago, 1913, inv. 138796.

U1-24

———

Unusual and massive build. 100 cm.

U1-27

HISTORY Field collected by Otto Bruckner. PROVENANCE Otto Bruckner, before 1914. Museum für Völkerkunde, Dresden, 1914, inv. 32903. ———

PROVENANCE <...>

Unusual carving, smoke patina. 92 cm. HISTORY Collected on Matty Island (reputedly from a trading post. Possible error). PROVENANCE <…> A. Lockwood, London. British Museum, London, 1936, inv. Oc1936,1123.1. ———

Queen Victoria Museum, Launceston, inv. 1983.E.279. ———

HISTORY Collected by Count Birger Mörner. PROVENANCE Count Birger Mörner, 1913–1914. Etnografiska Museet, Stockholm, 1915, no. 10.0677. PUBLICATION Gifford, 1974. “The Iconology of the Uli Figure of Central New Ireland,” no. 80.

U1-25 Massively built with wide shoulders. An early and fine example. 119 cm. HISTORY Photographed in the Ernst Heinrich Collection.

U1-22 Uli figure type 1, selambungin sonondos. 118 cm. HISTORY Acquired by Georg Friederici in 1908. Carving appears unfinished, probably never pigmented. PROVENANCE Georg Friederici in 1908. Ethnologisches Museum, Berlin, 1908, inv. VI 28580.

PROVENANCE <...> Reputedly Linden-Museum, Stuttgart (not verified); Ernst Heinrich, Bad Cannstatt, Stuttgart; J. J. Klejman, New York.

U1-28

Current whereabouts unknown.

135 cm.

———

HISTORY Donated by Consul Max Thiel from Matupit in 1913. PROVENANCE Max Thiel, Matupit. Museum of Cultural History, Oslo, inv. UEM 21672.

179

By Jean-Philippe Beaulieu

JEAN-PHILIPPE BEAULIEU

P O W E R F U L A N C E S T O R S F R O M T H E PA C I F I C

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Ulis in the Late Twentieth and Early Twenty-First Centuries

using about non-Western art, the famed art critic Felix Fénéon wondered in 1920, “Will they be admitted to the Louvre?” The exhibition “Primitivism” in 20th Century Art: Affinity of the Tribal and the Modern, curated by William Rubin, head curator of painting and sculpture at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, was a defining moment for the changes it brought in public perception. It presented some 200 works of tribal art, including ulis U1-2, U5-14, and U7-13, and 150 examples of iconic modern art, including Picasso’s famous painting, Les demoiselles d’Avignon. Running from 27 September 1984 to 15 January 1985, this exhibition garnered attention because of its recontextualisation of non-Western artefacts used for various purposes in different cultures, yet it also elevated non-Western art to the same level as Western art. It was a show that achieved legendary status. And at long last, on 13 April 2000, the visitor passing through the Louvre’s Porte des Lions1 to enter the Pavillon des Sessions would now find 105 masterpieces from Africa, Oceania, and the Americas, including one uli figure (U5-1). The dream of the early twentieth-century poet Guillaume Apollinaire and further considered by Fénéon had been revived by Parisian art dealer Jacques Kerchache,

who whispered Apollinaire’s words into the ear of then President Jacques Chirac: “The Louvre should be collecting certain exotic masterpieces whose appearance is no less moving than those of the beautiful specimens of Western statuary.” Thanks to Kerchache and Chirac, this dream finally became reality nearly 100 years later. The Louvre has long been a Western-world shrine to what are considered to be universal masterpieces, and this new gallery represented a seismic change towards a more fully global perspective. Its opening marked a new era of awareness about these creations from distant worlds, raising them to masterpiece status in the Western-world sense, while at the same time, for a smaller audience first encountering them, helping them to develop greater awareness of these art forms. The long-held oppositional nature of ethnography and art has evolved. While the presentation of non-Western works within the standards of a typical art exhibition has become normalised, it also is no longer taboo to speak about the position of these objects within their cultures of origin. In Paris, the opening of the Musée du Quai Branly in 2006 was a milestone and it has ever since been constantly attracting a wide public with its diverse programming. In 2007, it hosted the exhibition New Ireland: Art of the South Pacific2 curated by Michael Gunn and Philippe Peltier. This

Left: Jeff Koons, Uli, 2014–2020. Gunmetal. 148.9 x 54.9 x 76.5 cm. Anderson Cooper, New York. © Jeff Koons, photo: Tom Powel Imaging.

381

Bruno, chief of the Kebo clan, landowner of the Konombin site. 2018. Author’s photo.

382

•

Ulis

was the largest exhibition of New Ireland art ever staged, and it presented the rich diversity of the cultures from the island of New Ireland, including, of course, malagan rituals and an array of ulis (U1-5, U2-1, U5-1, U9-1, U13-6, and U13-9). The artefacts were chosen for their rarity, cultural significance, and masterpiece qualities. It was an appropriate celebration of the flamboyant art traditions of these distant islands. Another exhibition, Visual Encounters: Africa, Oceania, and Modern Art, curated by Oliver Wick and Antje Denner at the Fondation Beyeler in 2009, should be mentioned here. This exhibition followed a philosophy close to William Rubin’s approach twenty-five years earlier, with a selection of African and Oceanic artworks confronting modern art masterpieces. However, for the former, this show focused on only a few emblematic cultures, and it included nine ulis,3 nine Nukuoro figures, and ten Easter Island dance paddles. The essays in the catalogue presented information about the culture of origin, not just perspective on their potential influence upon Western art. Placing the objects within their cultural contexts in the catalogue while exhibiting them in the purely art context of Visual Encounters was an innovative approach that was much appreciated by the public. Ulis were selected as one of the few ambassadors of the rich corpus of Oceanic art, highlighting once again that their aura extends far beyond their culture of origin. Taking a different perspective, contemporary artist Jeff Koons created two artworks inspired by ulis. Interestingly, this is the only Oceanic artefact he has embodied into his work, at least that we are aware of. The first is one in a series of largescale paintings titled Antiquity, in which a central uli figure (U5-1) is flanked by two views of a Venus di Medici. The second is a unique sculpture made by fusing actor Sean Penn’s collection of sixty-two firearms into an abstracted and hierarchic work titled simply Uli, which was auctioned to benefit a Haitian relief charity. This is just another example of ulis magnetically drawing attention to themselves in the world art scene. Ulis are more than art objects. They commanded very old and complex funerary ceremonies to orchestrate the ritual and social life of the people of central New Ireland. Honouring the dead, proclaiming love for the deceased, acknowledging what was owed to them, and transferring power back to the living, ulis are malagan objects—images of powerful ancestors. Indeed, power is what an uli is all about—a power that connects the ancestors, the land, the spirits, and the living at the apex of the ceremony, when the uli has been activated by sacrifices. There is still a memory of “uli” as a powerful

the

Late

Twentieth

and

Early

and old magic from the hills of Mandak country. In order to bring this old magic to the coast, the Mandak people chose one vine from the hills and transplanted it to the rainmaker grove in Sovan hamlet, near Lamasong. This thick vine is growing in a dense bush around a massive Banyan tree at the centre of the grove inhabited by gas spirits and is winding itself around a few nearby giant clamshells, once used to hold the skulls of rainmakers.4 At the time of this writing in early 2021, this sacred enclosure is still under the watch of the elder Mares Ragamat, guardian of this ancient site. Two kilometres down the coast lives Bruno, landowner of Konombin village, heir of the powerful Chief Tutu, and a participant in the last known uli ceremony, held in the 1940s, where he was accorded the rights to the lembankakat lavatlas uli. He likely is the last in the Bismarck Archipelago to have such ritual rights. But from the hills of Mandak country, ulis have moved onto the world stage, a place of far different context and meaning.

ENDNOTES: 1. Lion’s gate. 2. See Gunn and Peltier 2006. The exhibition was presented in three venues: The Saint Louis Art Museum, Musée du Quai Branly in Paris, and the Ethnologisches Museum in Berlin. Each venue had variations. For example, in Berlin, Markus Schindlbeck decided also to present a large number of the ulis from that museum’s collection that were not illustrated in the catalogue. 3. U1-1, U1-7, U2-3, U2-14, U4_1, U4-2, U10-1, U13-1, and U13-6. 4. See chapter 5.

Twenty-First

Centuries

Left: Mares Ragamat, guardian of the rainmaker grove in Sovan, 2018. Author’s photo.

Below: Residents of Sovan hamlet, near the rainmaker grove. 2018. Author’s photo.

Bottom: November 2018, reception area of Konombin village. From left to right, Michael Gunn, landowner Bruno, his grandson Jubilee (behind), Steven Pantiga, the author, and Matthew Salle. Photo by Didier Barrière.

383

By Jean-Philippe Beaulieu

JEAN-PHILIPPE BEAULIEU

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ULI. Powerful Ancestors from the Pacific Hardcover 245 x 330 mm 392 pages 350 EUR

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