Sea God, Tangaroa, and delivered into those of ordinary 

 people. Although woodcarving is now an activity of 

 ordinary people, its divine and godly source is never 

 really forgotten. A carver has to respect the god who 

 gave us carving. 



Next, there is a genealogical channel to the carver 

 or to the owners. Genealogies of high-ranking persons 

 of great mana-tapu begin from the gods Rangi and Papa. 

 Ultimately they are the source of everything — oitapu 

 and oimana and of art. Carvers and owners associated 

 with a particular object give to it, by contagion, a mea- 

 sure of their personal mana-tapu. The more they have, 

 the more the object will collect and so become sacred. 

 Other people who know of these associations cannot 

 ignore them. They are a part of the story, of the korero 

 (words), of the taonga. 



Another channel is in the materials used. If wood is 

 used the source is Tane, the God of the Forest, of trees 

 of life. If it is whalebone, the source is Tangaroa again — 

 whales belong to his domain. If bird bones are used the 

 source is Tane and if the bones of men are used the 

 source is Tumatauenga. On the other hand, if the carver 

 turns to stone such as greenstone there is one god, for 

 obsidian another and for basalt yet another. In fact, 

 wherever the carver turns he confronts a world divided 

 into godly zones and for which proper rituals are re- 

 quired of him. 



Thus, in the whole activity of carving, from the 

 cutting down of the trees to the completion of the work 

 and to its presentation to the public the spiritual aspect 

 is present. Even today carvers tend to regard their art 

 seriously. This same attitude of seriousness pervades all 

 domains of carving, regardless of material. One of the 

 basic forms used by Maori artists is the human form, 

 the image of man, expressed in a number of ways on all 

 sorts of objects. Very often the image is that of a named 

 ancestor and the very name given to such an image ele- 

 vates it and gives it mana. Ancestors are highly valued 

 so that choosing a name can become a very delicate 

 matter that affects a large number of people. Argu- 

 ments can result in political factions developing and 

 these might become divisive in a community. 



For a significant number of people the ancestors 

 are part of the living family. They are talked to and 

 about as though they passed away only yesterday. 

 Identities are defined in terms of them, for who are we 

 without them! Through them we are assigned a tribe 

 and a hapu (sub-tribe), sometimes several. But the 

 important thing is that without them we are faceless. 

 To be just a New Zealander, which is what many politi- 

 cians advocate today, is to be nobody. In the Maori 

 world you must have a tribal identity and you must 

 know your hapu. Without these you are an orphan 

 crying in a social wilderness (fig. 7). 



It will be obvious to most observers that ancestors 

 are intertwined in the visual arts; they are the inspira- 



tion for much artistic endeavor. There is no art without 

 them. Because they are the inspiration and the theme 

 of a great deal of woodcarving there are consequences. 

 One is that the art keeps their memory alive by present- 

 ing images of them for everyday contemplation. Two, 

 the ancestors bring the art close to the people. Maori art 

 is not just for intellectual contemplation and cannot be 

 just that. It belongs to the people, and the ancestors 

 provide two sorts of link: between art and people and 

 at a deeper level between the gods and the people. 

 Because of these associations artists must treat art 

 seriously; there are too many possibilities of hurting 

 people for it to be regarded in any other way. 



Conclusion 



I set out to explain the Maori concept of taonga, partic- 

 ularly of taonga whakairo, or art object. In doing so I 

 have focused upon people and how they behave 

 towards taonga rather than the other way around. The 

 behavior provides clues and evidence of beliefs and 

 attitudes, and these combined make up the philo- 

 sophy of the people. They are, in fact, part of what we 

 could call Maori aesthetics, which we might define as 

 the theory underlying the arts of the Maori and the 

 philosophy of the mind and the emotions in relation to 

 them. 



The concept of taonga is central to an understand- 

 ing of Maori aesthetics. Here we are not dealing with a 

 theory of the beautiful for contemplation by sensitive, 

 beautiful people. Rather, we have to think of power in 

 art objects, of artistry of such magnificence that it elicits 

 awe in the beholder and moves the self to respond. We 

 have to envisage an art system that demands a close 

 attachment of artists and public to it. This attachment is 

 assured because ( 1 ) one's identity as a Maori is re- 

 flected by and incorporated in the arts; (2) ancestors 

 are the main concern of the artists, and the ancestors 

 they portray provide the bond that links the public 

 strongly, positively, and surely to the arts; (3) the 

 ancestors help the public define their place in the 

 world. 



The arts are seen in a positive light and everything 

 about them is good; they are full of beauty and tears, 

 they link us to our ancestors and ultimately to the 

 source of everything that is Maori, namely to Rangi, the 

 Sky Father, above, and to Papatuanuku, the Earth 

 Mother, below. The arts reflect our culture and our 

 humanity. In one real sense they give us dignity as peo- 

 ple and make us more human and more cultured than 

 would otherwise be the case. The taonga in "Te Maori" 

 elevate us, they raise our self-esteem, they enlarge us as 

 a people, they give us more space in the world and they 

 make us intensely proud of the achievements of our 

 ancestors. FN 



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