A young Puhi on her wedding day (Vincent Ward)
BEIJING — In 2007, 17 Tuhoe people originating from New Zealand’s remote Te Urewera territory were arrested and charged with terrorism. The following year the charges were dropped in exchange for lesser ones, but the event had already re-opened old wounds. The police had last carried out a full-scale raid in the land in 1916, killing two and arresting the tribe’s leader and his son. The second raid brought echoes of that first invasion which had never been forgotten.
Design, then, it might seem, that director Vincent Ward’s “Rain of the Children,” which is showing at this week’s New Zealand on Film festival in Beijing, was released the same year terrorism charges were dropped. The film is a docudrama that looks back at the life of the Tuhoe woman, Te Puhi Materoa Tatu, a survivor of the 1916 persecution.
In fact there was no connection intended by the film’s director, Vincent Ward, but the release of his film and the backlash from the 2007 raids coinciding is a reminder of how old colonial tensions continue to play out in modern New Zealand.
Pregnant with her first child, Puhi’s brother-in-law was shot dead, her husband and father-in-law, the prophet and Tuhoe leader Rua Kenana, arrested. Often referred to simply as “Puhi,” she was to have fourteen children by three men over the coming years, and suffer the loss of all but one, her last son, Niki.
Ward’s interaction with the Tuhoe tribe began with filming an octogenarian Puhi and her son Niki for his first feature, the documentary “In Spring One Plants Alone” (1981) in the late ‘70s. “For [“In Spring One Plants Alone”] I was more like a fly on the wall,” Ward told ARTINFO.
But Ward was not a passive observer — he lived on and off with Puhi over two years beginning at the formative age of 21. “There had been other documentaries made about Maori peoples, but they tended to be observational, anthropological studies. They were very detached ...and they lacked veracity.”
His relationship to his subject was at once societal and deeply personal, and it is outtakes and other footage from this first feature that make up a large part of “Rain of the Children.”
Ward achieved this intimate footage by spending most of his time with her helping her do chores, or driving her where she needed to go. Every few weeks, the film crew visited for a couple of days, after which she would promptly kick them out. “She had a temper. Once when I was filming and not helping her, she knocked the camera right out of my hands,” he remembers.
Archival images, reconstructions and interviews with Puhi’s descendants, as well as Ward’s own personal voice over, combine to make up the rest of the film. By his, but foremost the Puhi’s descendants’ choice, it is her own relatives that act out the reconstructions of her life.
And these reconstructions, often in black and white or desaturated color film, are essential to gradually presenting the beliefs held by Puhi and her community. For a while, we not only observe but are also drawn in to understand how the Tuhoe believe in a world that oscillates between the dead and the living, and how Puhi came to see herself as cursed. And finally our eyes and hearts are opened to her search to communicate with her lost children, by drawing herself closer to the world of the dead.
And in a way, she, like the colonial wounds inflicted on her community, has herself lived on beyond her own death. “In a reassuring way the old lady haunted me,” said Ward. “I kept interpreting her life.”
“I wanted to look at her in terms of her people, not my people,” he explained. Hence the lack of judgement on the community that at times took her children, or worked her to the bone. “Taking feminism as a perspective is a high moral, caucasian judgement,” he said as one example.
It was taking on new perspectives that Ward learned from living with Puhi. Puhi, Ward said, brought him a whole new extended family. But she also did more than that to change him.
“She stripped away the boundaries of my understanding of what life could be and is. It’s like you open a door and walk into another world and suddenly you have a range of experiences open to you, and I had someone there who was a friend and a guardian. Who helped me survive it somehow.”
And now, says Ward, he hopes he can bring this message to audiences around the world, especially, he says in China, where tumultuous, fast-paced change has rocked communities that might understand where his take on a Maori peoples’ history is coming from.
"Rain of the Children" is screening at the Ullens Center for Contemporary Art on March 10, 2pm
Originally posted in Artinfo China.
Published: March 5, 2013
BEIJING — In 2007, 17 Tuhoe people originating from New Zealand’s remote Te Urewera territory were arrested and charged with terrorism. The following year the charges were dropped in exchange for lesser ones, but the event had already re-opened old wounds. The police had last carried out a full-scale raid in the land in 1916, killing two and arresting the tribe’s leader and his son. The second raid brought echoes of that first invasion which had never been forgotten.
Design, then, it might seem, that director Vincent Ward’s “Rain of the Children,” which is showing at this week’s New Zealand on Film festival in Beijing, was released the same year terrorism charges were dropped. The film is a docudrama that looks back at the life of the Tuhoe woman, Te Puhi Materoa Tatu, a survivor of the 1916 persecution.
In fact there was no connection intended by the film’s director, Vincent Ward, but the release of his film and the backlash from the 2007 raids coinciding is a reminder of how old colonial tensions continue to play out in modern New Zealand.
Pregnant with her first child, Puhi’s brother-in-law was shot dead, her husband and father-in-law, the prophet and Tuhoe leader Rua Kenana, arrested. Often referred to simply as “Puhi,” she was to have fourteen children by three men over the coming years, and suffer the loss of all but one, her last son, Niki.
Ward’s interaction with the Tuhoe tribe began with filming an octogenarian Puhi and her son Niki for his first feature, the documentary “In Spring One Plants Alone” (1981) in the late ‘70s. “For [“In Spring One Plants Alone”] I was more like a fly on the wall,” Ward told ARTINFO.
But Ward was not a passive observer — he lived on and off with Puhi over two years beginning at the formative age of 21. “There had been other documentaries made about Maori peoples, but they tended to be observational, anthropological studies. They were very detached ...and they lacked veracity.”
His relationship to his subject was at once societal and deeply personal, and it is outtakes and other footage from this first feature that make up a large part of “Rain of the Children.”
Ward achieved this intimate footage by spending most of his time with her helping her do chores, or driving her where she needed to go. Every few weeks, the film crew visited for a couple of days, after which she would promptly kick them out. “She had a temper. Once when I was filming and not helping her, she knocked the camera right out of my hands,” he remembers.
Archival images, reconstructions and interviews with Puhi’s descendants, as well as Ward’s own personal voice over, combine to make up the rest of the film. By his, but foremost the Puhi’s descendants’ choice, it is her own relatives that act out the reconstructions of her life.
And these reconstructions, often in black and white or desaturated color film, are essential to gradually presenting the beliefs held by Puhi and her community. For a while, we not only observe but are also drawn in to understand how the Tuhoe believe in a world that oscillates between the dead and the living, and how Puhi came to see herself as cursed. And finally our eyes and hearts are opened to her search to communicate with her lost children, by drawing herself closer to the world of the dead.
And in a way, she, like the colonial wounds inflicted on her community, has herself lived on beyond her own death. “In a reassuring way the old lady haunted me,” said Ward. “I kept interpreting her life.”
“I wanted to look at her in terms of her people, not my people,” he explained. Hence the lack of judgement on the community that at times took her children, or worked her to the bone. “Taking feminism as a perspective is a high moral, caucasian judgement,” he said as one example.
It was taking on new perspectives that Ward learned from living with Puhi. Puhi, Ward said, brought him a whole new extended family. But she also did more than that to change him.
“She stripped away the boundaries of my understanding of what life could be and is. It’s like you open a door and walk into another world and suddenly you have a range of experiences open to you, and I had someone there who was a friend and a guardian. Who helped me survive it somehow.”
And now, says Ward, he hopes he can bring this message to audiences around the world, especially, he says in China, where tumultuous, fast-paced change has rocked communities that might understand where his take on a Maori peoples’ history is coming from.
"Rain of the Children" is screening at the Ullens Center for Contemporary Art on March 10, 2pm
Originally posted in Artinfo China.