Pounamu gets a loving touch
When Ernesto Ovalle picked up a slab of pounamu more than 20 years ago he had no idea the lifechanging journey the stone would take him on.
Ovalle, who is part of the Ngāi Tahu Pounamu authentication scheme, has spent years restoring greenstone and is part of a growing number of tauiwi (non-Māori) working in this space.
Sitting in his small workshop on Karangahape Rd in Auckland, Ovalle cradles a broken tiki. Where many would see the journey’s end for this taonga, he sees a new beginning.
It’s something he knows all too well from his own life. In 1999, he packed up his young family and escaped the unstable social and political climate of his home in Colombia and arrived in New Zealand with limited English and no community.
Ovalle realised how important it was to have a bit of attachment to the things we consider precious.
Descended from a long line of jewellers, Ovalle got a job at the Royal Jewellery Studio which crafts contemporary New Zealand jewellery. It was in this job he had his first encounter with pounamu, through Chaz Doherty, a kaiwhakairo of Ngai Tūhoe, at the Kingsland jewellery studio. They became friends and exchanged jewellery and carving techniques with each other.
‘‘Chaz brought a piece of tōtara and his chisels and he started showing me how to carve wood and, for me, it was a new world.’’
Ovalle also experimented with bone, but it was greenstone he felt drawn to. ‘‘The greenstone was quite special to me,’’ he said. ‘‘It was really appealing to my hands, and I was really immediately aligned [to it].’’
With a thirst for learning, Ovalle branched off to study whakairo at Tai Poutini Polytechnic in Greymouth, and at Elam School of Fine Arts in Auckland. Since 2006, Ovalle has had a studio shop set up on Karangahape Rd called Oro Negro. Prior to that, he pitched up stalls at Aotea Square.
Working with pounamu connected Ovalle to te ao Māori and through that he was able to reconnect to his culture and country. He belongs to one of the oldest tribes in South America, the Muisca people, a population that was drastically reduced by Spanish colonisation. ‘‘I was really curious about my own culture in the indigenous motifs from pre-colonisation.’’
Ovalle has been part of Ngāi Tahu’s Pounamu authentication scheme since 2017 and purchases from the iwi which is the only ethical way to buy authentic stone.
‘‘[Ovalle] wants to make sure he upholds the integrity of the pounamu . . . so he is always in communication with us to see if he’s OK to do certain things,’’ a Ngāi Tahu Pounamu spokesperson said. ‘‘He’s been really amazing to work with. We highly recommend him
[and] support his business.’’
Those looking to buy raw stone through Ngāi Tahu, the legal kaitiaki of pounamu, need to apply for licensing. Applicants who already have whakairo training tend to get authenticated more easily, but their intentions with the stone are also taken into account. Ngāi Tahu has a strict application process in place for those wanting to work with their stone to ensure tikanga is followed. The iwi said noone on the scheme had ever violated customary lore.
When Ovalle talks about pounamu, his eyes spark up and an excitement washes over him.
‘‘It can be quite spiritual, quite special to restore a piece . . . I see how a customer’s face changes when they put the [taonga] back on their neck. It’s just remarkable how the pieces help lift the mauri of the wearer.’’
Most of Ovalle’s restorations happen at night-time. It allows him space to think about the work at hand and to connect to his ancestors.
‘‘As an artist, as a carver, as a jeweller, I want to help express love. I think this is probably one of my missions in life.’’