RETRO PAST
The image on this rug at the Museum of the Everyday may seem like a pastoral paradise, but on closer examination it says a lot more about the state of the nation
Celebrating the beauty in humble household objects
ICONIC LANDSCAPES FROM around the country were a common adornment for New Zealand homes in the 1950s and 1960s. Not only were there paintings, photographs and calendars to hang on the wall, but dishes and ashtrays to put in the lounge, tins to occupy the kitchen cupboard, and rugs to cover the floor.
The scene here is typical: a striking, snow-covered mountain in the distance, green rolling hills and bush in the middle, with cows and sheep placidly munching on fertile grass in the foreground. There are seldom any people, or too much in the way of towns or machinery to interrupt the natural splendour. There’s even a helpful caption to locate the view, just in case the distinctive peak of Taranaki (then called Mt Egmont) isn’t enough to do the job.
Cattle and farmland indicate that this is New Zealand, a land transformed by Pākehā industry. But another history of this landscape is also represented in the scene. At the very top of the rug, three tiny figures strain at the end of a rope which has been tied around the neck of a larger yellow figure with features that mimic the patterns of Māori art. The golden colour and rays shooting outwards make it clear that this is the sun, and the figures are Māui and his brothers, who tamed the sun, slowing down its progress across the sky so that humanity could have more light to complete the tasks necessary for life.
Pākehā images often work like this. A central scene emphasizes modern life in New Zealand (here an agricultural paradise), while a border features Māori patterns or subjects. As well as providing just the right amount of cultural distinctiveness (after all, other British colonies also have stunning mountains and agriculture), this sets up a chronology: the Māori past around the edges, and the Pākehā present and future in pride of place. This quirky visual detail with its nod to Māori stories about Aotearoa turns out to be less than neutral. It might be a Māori sun and a Māori demi-god who made this country, but it now firmly belongs to Pākehā.
The Museum of the Everyday is the country’s leading collection of day-to-day things from the past century. See more at ehive.com