Eight women are in a room. Their voices at least, and portraits too. Come and sit down. They have something to say. Words by Britt Coker.
It’s the Wāhine Exhibition, a growing collection of personal ‘sound journeys’ by Māori women. Initially interviewed about what was important to them, the wāhine also spent some time capturing their stories from home where they were encouraged to include background noises from their daily lives to make the listening a more immersive experience. The result, exhibition attendees can sit in front of a portrait they are drawn to, pop on a pair of headphones and become absorbed in these women’s lives for 15 minutes.
A deceptively simple concept, its journey was a little less so. The artist and project manager behind the exhibition is Loren Pasquier. Arriving in New Zealand from France three years ago, Loren saw an opportunity that a new perspective so often provides.
“Because everything was fresh I wasn’t aware of all the walls between Māori and Pākehā that are invisible but actually really tangible, so I just knocked on the door and went for it. It was only when I became deeper in the kaupapa that I became fully aware of these walls. I felt lots of doubt and uncertainty, was this my role or not, and after lots of conversations about this, both with Māori and Pākehā, I realised if I decided to stop that I would be letting the ripples of colonisation win once again, rather than trying to bridge that gap.”
Loren describes The Wāhine Exhibition as a rare opportunity to listen to someone’s story without asking questions. To be receptive, sure, but not immune. Because you can’t use voices in a project without expecting it to begin breathing on its own. And the result?
“It’s been wonderful. We’ve received hundreds and hundreds of testimonials. I think seeing how people are yearning for this connection and intimacy and the impact that vulnerability can have. These women are real, they’re honest and they have no idea who is going to be listening to their stories, and so it’s powerful to be on the receiving side and hear this vulnerability. So, what I’ve been witnessing, is these walls that have dropped when people are listening to their stories and instantly feel close to them. There are often lots of tears coming up for people and being Pākehā or Māori, tane or wāhine, everyone’s been impacted in different ways.”
“We see people sitting outside the exhibition starting to have conversations that are usually very difficult to have, and to have a safe space to do that. Even talking about the gap and the wound between Māori and Pākehā and how we can come together in a better way.”
Loren is also the exhibition’s portrait photographer. She studied arts and design and has a degree in anthropology. Combining these two interests of art and human behaviour while living in Paris, Loren undertook a unique project, creating a sound map of Parisian neighbourhoods revealing human similarities and differences between suburbs. So yes, there are parallels here with this project, capturing voices from within a community again, albeit far more personal experiences.
“When we listen to these stories, they are relatable to so many of us and it makes us realise how as different and unique we all are, a lot of our challenges and tribulations are actually really similar, and that’s something that can be found here in Aotearoa just as much as someone in England, for example.”
The exhibition has all but completed its tour of the South Island with a journey to the North next on the cards. Then Australia and Europe too, if all goes to plan. In each city the exhibit opens, a local wāhine joins the conversation, holding space for the other women. The initial four women from Te tauihu who first shared their stories, have now been joined by another four. By the time it completes its Te Ika a Māui tiki tour, the wāhine will number seventeen.
Cindy Batt works at the Nelson Public Library, specialising in local Māori history. She says her involvement as one of the first four wāhine to share their stories in the exhibition has been rewarding overall. On the upside, now people know more of who she really is. And on the downside, now people know more of who she really is.
“We all have a cloak and the general public doesn’t know what your whole life is about, so it has been interesting... I think it’s opened up people’s perceptions about what we are. Especially if you’ve got a kauae moko tattooed on your chin. First thing they think is ‘gang member’, and then they go through these several other analogies, but when it comes down to it, it means a heck of lot more to us. It’s not just a tattoo; it takes a lot for us to actually earn these. There’s only a few of us in the exhibition with a kauae moko but on top of that, the other wāhine, they’ve got incredible experiences... What they bring to the world just amazes me and now when I watch people sit down and listen to these stories, they grasp this as well. The wisdom, the knowledge and the experience that comes with being wāhine Māori.”
The increased profile has resulted in regular approaches from strangers. “A lot of people ask many more questions because they’ve been enlightened and they say, ‘wow, I didn’t have any idea about that.’ Even at the supermarket I go ‘oh no, here we go again.’ I’m not ashamed, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t like the notoriety”. But Cindy also recognises it for the unique opportunity that it is. And a bit of a gender leveller.
“I know there have been Pākehā women out there who have been through the same things as us, if not worse. It’s just an opportunity for women to have a voice, and that’s the main reason I wanted to be involved in this exhibition. For centuries it’s been men as public figures, it’s about time women actually got to express themselves and tell the truth about what their lives have been like. There is a lot of goodness there, but there is a lot of sadness too, and stories that need to be told.”
Jahreece Morrell admits to not being comfortable as the centre of attention either, but she felt compelled to share her story despite this. In Jahreece’s case, she saw it as a chance to say something of what it is to be a Māori Christian wāhine. In the process of recording her home life she created a memory from the present.
“It was a special moment for our whanau reflecting back on that week. You know people are so busy these days that we don’t take time to breath and look around, but I remember that week being intentional about what we were doing and capturing that on the voice recorder to share.”
As a result, Jahreece’s korero at the exhibition begins with a karakia recited by her whanau. It’s a prayer they say before every meal, unique to their family and for her tamariki, it has been something that has been part of their lives since they began it. She feels that when her young children heard their karakia in the context of a public space, it gave them a chance to reflect on the strong values that it represents and to give them a sense of place, identity, and connection to each other.
In her korero, she shares her views and family experiences of a time when they were challenged by the idea that being Māori and Christian was mutually exclusive.
“I mentioned colonisation and how Te Reo Māori was beaten out of my grandmother and how that has affected us today as Māori, but also in terms of the missionaries’ involvement of Tiriti [Treaty of Waitangi] and the colonisation and how our culture was not welcome at the church and we had to leave our identity at the door. And that’s the kind of a journey that I’m going through at the moment and I’m leading some other wāhine, both Māori and Pākehā, in my Connect group [Christian women’s group].”
In Jahreece’s portrait photograph you can see her holding several books that are important to her, ‘Bible & Treaty’ by Keith Newman, J.Ruka’s, ‘Huia Come Home’(“A prophetic vision about the reconciliation of Māori and Pākehā and how we can move forward together but embrace our identity at the same time”), and the Bible.
“It’s an example for my tamariki to be proud of who we are. Mum’s on a journey, therefore we’re all on a journey. As a parent nurturing my tamariki with my mātauranga, the knowledge and experiences I’m going through, but also sharing the story of my tikanga (customs).”
The Wāhine Exhibition is on at The Refinery ArtSpace until 19 February.
