Gerard Hindmarsh Rock art sites are our cathedrals
Call me an imbecile, but I’ve had my fill of those towering cathedrals of Europe, not to mention poncey galleries stashed with priceless artworks.
It’s the social context that bothers me. Always, it’s been the less fortunate who have paid the price, extracted in blood and sweat or social reforms never made. The Pyramids of Giza, the Great Wall of China, even a Faberge egg. ‘‘There is no document of civilisation that is not a document of barbarism,’’ wrote German social critic Walter Benjamin.
The turning point for me came while sitting under an overhang in a remote part of South Canterbury, gazing up at some of our earliest rock art. It just resonated for me. Genuine art done by genuinely peaceful people.
Initially, I had come to see the Te Ana Rock Art Centre in central Timaru. This Ngai Tahu-owned visitor attraction occupies the cavernous interior of a formerly unused stone wing in the historic Landing Services Building, adjacent to the waterfront.
It’s run in conjunction with guided tours of old Maori rock art sites in the area. Exactly 580 rock art sites exist within the tribe’s South Island boundaries, and 250 of those are in the Timaru area, many on private land.
It’s like walking on to a marae, except the wahine singing the authentic karanga is a state-of-theart hologram projection on a glass screen. Mentioned are the four historic tribes thought to have produced all the art.
It’s obvious that a lot of effort has been expended here, to retain authenticity as well as providing high-tech interactive displays. Stories are generously delivered from every direction – there’s even a re-created cave to sit in and get a pictorial presentation of how these paintings were accomplished.
International visitor comments compare the centre more than favourably with installations in Te Papa or even museums in New York.
Nothing has been spared, it being the vision of several staff that it was done properly. Former curator now guide Amanda Symon raised $2.7 million alone towards it.
In Te Ana, I inspected some fine examples of rock art, all of which had been cut from their cave by early scholars keen to preserve them. One of the best came from Duntroon in 1916, and resided at the Otago Museum before coming here.
But nothing could prepare me for seeing them in situ, on the walls and ceilings of the caves in which they were drawn.
At Rock Farm near Cave, just inland from Pleasant Point, I am shown to what is locally called Dog Rock, a massive limestone outcrop in the middle of a huge hillside paddock.
Two sheltered overhangs contain the paintings, which are now protected by a fence, but that doesn’t take away the wonder of seeing one of this country’s first art galleries.
My two guides tell me no-one knows exactly who made the rock art.
The shelters examined by archaeologists were used by some of the South Island’s earliest inhabitants. Later Maori added their own layers of the art, sometimes in different styles. The arrival of Europeans was even documented.
Repeated motifs through the rock art include animal figures, mythical creatures and abstract patterns.
At Craigmore Station further inland, I visit the Cave of the Eagle (Te Ana Pouakai), where a painting of the now extinct Haast eagle (harpagornis moorei) decorates the overhang’s ceiling. The earliest paintings here are attributed to Waitaha people.
Alongside, a human form is depicted front on, with the core of the torso uncoloured. Symon, my guide, speculates that this blank may have been their mauri or soul, while bird people depictions represent the intermediaries between people and sky.
‘‘All these motifs have parallels with the most ancient Maori artefacts and carvings, even if many of the subjects appear simplified and more streamlined than the detailed and elaborate designs found in later classical Maori carving, weaving and ta moko [tattoos].’’
Elements of South Island rock art are similar to the rock art found across the Pacific, from Hawaii to Easter Island.
Polynesian navigators brought with them a palette of motifs, with the tiki – or human figure – being the most commonly depicted. Once here, these traditions transformed and evolved over time to become unique to this land.
Most of the rock art was painted rather than drawn, using black or red pigments on naturally smooth, light-coloured limestone.
It is thought the artists may have used brushes made of plant fibre, sticks, or just their fingers to apply the paint to the rock surface. Some art was carved or incised into the rock.
Variations of white or yellow were created by abrading the limestone surface, which prepared the rough rock canvas for the intricate designs.
According to one traditional southern Maori recipe for black paint, the green branches of the resinous manoao tree were burned, with the smoke directed to settle against a flax mat.
After being scraped off, the soot was mixed with gum from the tarata (lemonwood), oil extracted from the berries of the rautawhiri (black matipo), along with weka oil. The result was ‘‘an ink that would stand forever’’.
Over the centuries the corrosive forces of nature have taken their toll, and rising salts have affected the surface of the porous limestone.
But it has been people who have caused the greatest damage, either by deliberate vandalism or the best intentions of scholars.
In the early 20th century, some of the artworks were cut out of the rocks in an effort to preserve them. Other researchers damaged the integrity of the art by tracing over the faint original works with house paint, chalk, ink, and grease crayons.
Theo Schoon, a Dutch painter who was hired by the government in the late 1940s to document the rock art, routinely touched the works up with chalk and the ‘‘Moa’’ brand oil crayons that were in common use in schools at the time.
‘‘Everyone thought it was the best thing to do,’’ says Symon.
‘‘Now the thinking worldwide is that rock art was often associated with ritual. Traditional Maori art forms like weaving and carving all had powerful spiritual significance, so why should rock art be any different?
‘‘These are special places indeed – to be admired, but not interfered with.’’