Life in the Pacific of the 1700s: The Cook/ Forster Collection of the George August University of Göttingen (review)

My responses here reflect my work as a Native Hawaiian customary practitioner of making kapa (barkcloth, also called tapa elsewhere in the Pacific) and weaving, a contem­porary artist, and an educator.

Seeing the exhibition Life in the Pacific of the 1700s was extremely important. The work was stunning. More specifically, the pieces from Hawai'i revealed the excellence our ancestors achieved in their customary practices. It was especially wonderful to see the variety of Hawaiian kapa and the complexity of the layering and designs.

Because of the existing literature, many people assume that the intricate designs on Hawaiian kapa developed only after contact with westerners. For those of us fortunate to have ­traveled to museums outside Hawai'i to see precontact kapa pieces (often hidden away in storage drawers), we know this is a misconception. Hence, the exhibition was important because it dispelled the idea that precontact kapa was simpler than postcontact work.

The exhibition also allowed people to view everything in the Cook/ Forster collection. Generally, in selecting the pieces to represent a historic period or a cultural practice, curators sometimes exclude items that customary practitioners want to see (ie, an undecorated piece of kapa). Hence, it was important that in this exhibition, all visitors, and not just research specialists, had access to all the works.

I would like to discuss a few of the problems the exhibition posed. I would have preferred seeing the works arranged by culture and not by function. Seeing all the material of a culture together gives you a sense of that culture. With that said, since the works were arranged by function, there should have been information explaining the repetition and variation of certain forms and their signifi­cance for different Pacific Island cultures. As an educator, I know visitors cannot be expected to understand all the connections visually.

Perhaps my most serious criticism is that the exhibition did little to link precontact and contemporary customary practices. It would have been exciting to see large images of contemporary barkcloth makers from Tonga next to the display of the ngatu (tapa) pieces, or images of contemporary Māori martial arts practitioners near the Māori spears and clubs.

I would also like to comment on the ki'i akua hulu manu (feathered god image), which was displayed on atall pedestal and rock platform. I found the altar-like setting perplexing and there was no explanation for it. Itseemed overly dramatic, and I feel it encouraged people to leave ho'o­kupu (offerings), not understanding how this particular Kü (ancestral deity associated with politics or war) may have functioned as a private god for designated followers rather than a public god for all to worship.

Ultimately, the exhibition did not offer an indigenous point of view, except at the very beginning with the two quotations by Mary Kawena Pukui. This was not enough, and perhaps this is the reason I felt the exhibition was "cold." It did not ­adequately acknowledge and emphasize the relationship between the past and the present and why that connection is vital to indigenous people today. As a Hawaiian, I am linked genealogically to the pieces from Hawai'i lying behind the glass cases; they are my ancestors. The lack of interpretive materials in the galleries relegated the works to mere historic "objects." For example, if a text panel or label had pointed out the signifi­cance of the materials used and the skill level required to create an intricate kapa piece, it would have helped visitors to appreciate the long journey Hawaiians have taken into modern times, and the skills and cultural knowledge that have been lost and recovered. It would help all of us to understand the excellence Hawaiians...