TOOLS, PROCESS, APPLICATION
What is Uhi?
Finely sculptured teeth set across the top of a small long shaft of albatross bone is delicately lashed to a functional wooden handle. It is accompanied by a well-balanced rākau, indented and lashed to enable just the right grip. These two tools work in unison, as one is the elegant pattern maker, while the other is used to power the inked teeth into the skin. Seated on the floor meditating between heartbeats is the artist poised to uncover the realisation of another client’s vision.
Traditional artform revived in a contemporary world
As Pacific peoples, we understand that Māori always marked their skin. When Māori crossed the ocean and inhabited Aotearoa in the early 1100’s, there were many new things to inspire creativity – forests, beaches, rivers, thermal activity, animals, etc. Perhaps two of the most interesting things to note are that when Maori arrived in Aotearoa, patterns became more curvilinear and they started carving facial skin.
Pacific patterns are more linear, bolder blocks of colour like Marquise’s, Samoan, and Hawaiian. Papua and Fijian patterns are made up of lines and dots. In all of the Pacific Māori are the only ones to have carved faces.
Tā moko is the physical process by which a rākau hits a handmade albatross chisel filled with ink into the skin. Moko is the aesthetic aftermath of pattern adornment on the body. The tools are called uhi and work in unison with each other, the artist practitioner, the stretcher and the body canvas. In order for uhi tā moko to thrive it is reliant on living breathing canvases and artists. Unlike other major Māori art forms where taonga can be created, preserved and conserved to last long after the artist is gone. Uhi is a personal taonga that is only shared if the wearer agrees. It cannot be accessioned into a collection, a database or be catalogued. In order for others to view moko it has to be in its raw state on the living canvas.
This form of art only lasts for as long as the wearer is alive. When the wearer passes into the spiritual realm their moko is no longer alive or seen. Like many art forms, an artist’s practice only lasts as long as the practitioner. With only a few practitioners working with handmade tools in Aotearoa, the entire art of uhi tā moko is in danger of being extinguished. The more that can be revealed about this art practice the greater its chances of survival. As a leading practitioner of the art in Aotearoa, I want to see Uhi be revived, so it becomes a normal choice for anyone who wants to practice tā moko.
Part of my whakapapa of learning
1984, A very different world than the one we’re in now. Te Māori was exhibiting overseas and it soon elevated our culture’s artistry to the world. At that time a few whakairo artists decided to revive the art form of tā moko by first trialling it on themselves and each other and those brave enough to take on the patterns of our tupuna.
Some in our Māori communities said, ‘That artform should stay buried in our past!’ Others, through their own colonialised way thought it was a gang movement, as many gang members were getting moko to coverup their affiliations.
The next 10 years was fraught with negative outside perspectives. Kapa Haka was seen as one of the greatest supporters of the artform, and still is. More and more performers were changing out their drawn on patterns for inked skin. Today, we see more tattooed faces on stage than before.
I was fortunate that my brother was one of those leaders of the ta moko revival in the late 70’s and in 1997 I began an apprenticeship with him. I learned to stretch and know the various ways to work the body so pain was minimal while he machined moko on skin. I never progressed onto the skin with machine because in 2000 I saw him working with his handmade chisels, I knew that application felt right for me. Since that moment, I took every opportunity to learn all about Uhi.
