
These works depict the distance between myself, the place of my people and the place of my non-human ancestors. Made with charcoal from my father’s fireplace, the many facets of black harbour the diversity of Māori within my whakapapa, barely able to be contained on paper. Reflecting on the concept Mana Tangata, the works address the significance of collective mana. Collective mana is the inherent mana from one’s ancestors, the mana of a community, and the often passed over, mana of our non-human ancestors. Non-human ancestors include the land we hail from and the land we currently live on. An individual’s mana is enhanced by the collective/s and actions they are part of, and this is reciprocal, meaning there are rights and obligations from all sides for mana tangata to achieve its highest potency. Mana tangata has infinite potential, only restricted by the constraints we place on it as humans.





These charcoal forms are modelled from a typical brick you might find at a retirement village, they are about defending the sacred, specifically, Opihi Whanaungakore urupā that local iwi, Ngāti Awa are fighting to protect.

These prints, although not exhibited, were the beginning of the process to the final works. For 30 days I applied charcoal differently to paper and then reflected on my day with a kupu Māori. Applications included rubbing, soaking, leaving buried in a local reserve, sitting in the shallows of the awa, amongst the 30 methods of application. They seemed to feel the emotions of the kupu. Some were dusty, some were 3d. The important thing was that I remembered how helpful it can be exploring, making something small, making often, making without purpose apart from to make.
