THE CARVER, HIS PUPILS AND THE PUBLIC

Te Ao Hou, September 1959, Page 50

THE CARVER, HIS PUPILS AND THE PUBLIC John Taiapa regards the educating of pupils as an essential part of his calling. He likes to see the art of carving flourish and is prepared to give much of his time and energy in the passing on of his knowledge. In the first stages of instruction he designs the slabs in pencil, carves one side himself, and then leaves the pupil to do the other half, imitating what has already been completed. The next stage is to leave the student also to

design the second half of the slab. He tries to make sure that the pupils get confidence in themselves and are not frightened to work independently as their training progresses. Unfortunately, none of these students have been able to take up carving as a full-time career once their apprenticeship was finished. Who are the good carvers of to-day? Among his fellow-carvers and students, John Taiapa mentioned the following names as especially distinguished: Aiotua Tuarau, the Rarotongan who is still working with the Dominion Museum as a professional carver; John Metekingi, Joe Mokaraka, Jim Ruru, Derrick Morris, Tuhaka Kapua, Bill Poutapu, Waka Kereama and Dempsey Greening. The status of carvers varies from tribe to tribe, being undoubtedly high in districts like the East Coast where leaders have continued to revere the carver as a ‘tohunga’—a learned man, whose service to the tribe is of the highest value. The fact that the carver has to be paid like anyone else in these expensive days should not lower his status in Maori eyes, because no carver is really just a paid servant: he has to give his whole personality to the great task of presenting the whole history of the host tribe in his carvings. Yet attitudes to the carver vary from place to place; in places where his art is valued he is given a farewell party after his work is finished. He is invited to the opening and classed among prominent visitors at the opening ceremony. On the treatment meted out to carvers in some communities, John Taipa quotes the apt proverb: Karanga riri, karanga ki a Paeko; Karanga kai, ka hapa a Paeko. (When there is a battle, they call Paeko, but at the feast, Paeko is forgotten.) Certainly, poor treatment of the artist is not confined to the modern Maori,—it happens in many places in the world, but in this respect the ancient Maori tradition is far superior to what may have been learnt from the less civilised category of pakehas.