In 1849 Matiaha Tiramōrehu related the creation story in which Māori music traditions are founded. He gave a genealogy of creation that begins: ‘Kei a te Pō te tīmatatanga o te waiatatanga mai a te Atua. Ko te Ao, ko te Ao mārama, ko te Ao tū roa.’ This has been interpreted as ‘It was in the night, that the Gods sang the world into existence. From the world of light, into the world of music.’

Creation began in Te Kore, the Void, after the two opposite but complementary elements, Hani (the Seeker) and Puna (the Well Spring), came together at the Sacred Altar. Then followed aeons of generations of Te Pō, the Darkness, which were matched by generations of Te Ao, the Light.

From the ages of Te Ao came our world’s primal Sky Father, Ranginui e tū iho nei. From Te Pō came Papatūāuenuku, the Earth Mother. Their names are often abbreviated to Rangi and Papa. Both had families through earlier relationships, and several children of these stayed with Rangi and Papa and are commonly known as their children. This extended family gave us most of the departmental gods of the Māori. The ones met in this book include Tānemahuta, the great procreator and God of the Forests, as well as birds; Tāwhirimātea, the God of the Winds; Whiro, feared as the one responsible for bad deeds and sickness; Tū Matauenga, the fierce God of War; and Rūaumoko, the unborn child who gets restless at times and moves within Papa, creating earthquakes.

All the different types of Māori song stem from the emotions displayed by the gods during the creation aeons. There are songs of sorrow, anger and lament; of loneliness, desire and joy; of peace and love. The voices of the instruments and the movements of dance support and embellish the songs.

**Te Wehenga** A print depicting Rangi and Papa, with traditional symbols representing some of their children between them.

Māori traditions include a wide range of musical instruments and these are presented here in their family groups, mostly illustrated by contemporary examples that have been used in the revival journey. Because these Taonga Pūoro, singing treasures, can be best appreciated and understood when the cosmogony that guided their creation is known, this book summarises some of the myths and legends that directly relate to them. They are arranged in order of the validating myth that introduces them and authenticates their existence. This sequence fittingly keeps them between the primal parents, Rangi and Papa. These stories have been pieced together from various sources and there are several tribal variations on them, not all of which are in the public domain. However, their theme is consistent and we trust that where local knowledge does not agree with these versions it will be understood that we acknowledge, respect and treasure those variations.

In the following chapters you will learn a little more about the Māori gods associated with Taonga Pūoro. Tunes are named after the Sky Father Rangi, and rhythms come from the heartbeats of Papa, the Earth Mother. Their descendants brought us the instruments to join rhythm and tune. Tānemahuta, the God of the Forest and its creatures, gave the trees from which many instruments are made. Hine pū te hue, one of his daughters, became the ancestress of the gourd and began by using her own body as a sounding vessel. Another daughter, Hine Raukatauri, loved her flute so much that she chose to live inside it and became the Goddess of Flute Music. Tāwhirimātea, the God of the Winds, gives breath to the spinning instruments. Tangaroa, the Mighty God of the Seas, is father of the fish which give us sea shells, some of which are made into instruments. While most instruments have these obvious family origins, others however are created by a union of the families of gods, and so could rightly be included in more than one chapter.

This selection of contemporary Taonga Pūoro shows the variety of materials used to make them.

Understanding these concepts helps to give some insight into the values that are placed on the instruments, the music and the materials they are created from. It also helps in giving respect to the many spiritual aspects of these taonga, which are not part of the public domain and are therefore only alluded to in this book. Taonga Pūoro were also vehicles of entertainment, and this aspect is the focus of the book – however, as we have so often noticed when performing, these instruments also convey a spiritual dimension that transcends the sounds they can create, which is an essential part of appreciating their value. Today, instrument materials that are endangered, extinct or no longer appropriate are being substituted by newly adopted children of the natural world. For instance, we make bone kōauau from ostrich to replicate the extinct moa, and deer or emu bones are substituted for human bones.

The most commonly heard instruments are the flutes and a wide variety of styles are made in a wide range of materials. All instruments are seen as individuals and so naturally have different voices, but these differences are kept within the boundaries of their family’s origins. Innovation that crosses these boundaries is strongly discouraged as it could contravene the natural order of things as set down by the gods, and marked by the Pou Tiri Ao, or guardian posts. Traditionally all tunes were intended to complement words: the instruments were not used just to make musical sounds. There are many references to the words being breathed into the music of a number of the instruments and several legends tell of listeners being given secret messages through their playing.

Te Uira is a ‘simple’ percussive whalebone pākuru, but playing techniques for this instrument are so complex that many of their intricacies are, for now, lost.

This kōauau is carved from a moa leg bone. It is a carved lizard design inspired by traditional human bone kōauau held in the British Museum.

There are many mysteries locked within all these instruments. Along with entertainment their uses in healing, sending messages, opening and closing life’s doors and in other significant ceremonies are still practised. It is important to understand that Māori did not use a musical scale of semitones or have a set scale. They compressed their scale into microtones of such subtlety that many early Western observers failed to appreciate it.

The method of blowing the flutes allows adaptability to adjust the pitch with small movements of the tongue and lips. Therefore it is often unnecessary to create instruments to a set pitch, though attaining an approximate pitch suited to a song is advisable where the flute is accompanying a singer. Several instruments have soft, private voices suitable for playing in the confines of the small whare, or houses. Others have louder voices for use in a large meeting house or even for sending messages outdoors. In 1807 it was noted that ‘every man was his own musician’ and with such small and portable instruments ‘they were never at a loss for entertainment’.

Unfortunately, for a variety of reasons, the use of these traditional instruments declined. Some became children’s toys, and some were hidden away or destroyed because they were deemed too precious and special to be denigrated. Some are retained by the families of their owners and others were sold to collectors or given as special taonga to mark momentous events. Sadly, some playing techniques are now lost, even for the ‘simple’ instruments such as the percussive pākuru.

The greatest decline was probably through the double pressures of, first, missionaries and teachers who discouraged the use of the instruments because they did not understand them (or understood their spiritual nature all too well), and, second, the appeal of newly introduced European instruments. These often even took on traditional names so that a saxophone or clarinet could be called a kōauau. Because musical instruments were taonga they were well made and thus very collectable. This was strikingly evident when we visited the British Museum in London where they have more pūtōrino in their collection than in all the museums in New Zealand.

Only a handful of old recordings were made, mostly on wax cylinders. The only known later recordings were of Mrs Paeroa Wineera, and a few items from this treasure are available on a CD, Traditional Music of the Māori.4 Careful listening reveals her method of ‘singing’ the words into her kōauau. These sounds, along with old songs that were known to be used with the instruments, are a valuable guide to the revival process. Even the earliest recordings, however, were of players who had become attuned to the Western musical scale and so are not a true guide to the ancient music. Ancient musicians are known to have taken inspiration from natural sounds; accordingly, these natural sounds and the voices the instruments are able to produce have been important in the revival process. The 1980s and 1990s saw a revival of the instrumental traditions by a number of individuals, notably Joe Malcolm and Donna Hall. In 1985, under the umbrella of Ngā Puna Waihanga, the Māori Artists and Writers Organisation, the late Ivan Ehau organised the first major workshop on kōauau and pūtōrino making and playing at Te Araroa, with Joe Malcolm as its kaumātua or elder consultant.

Mauri Tirikātene is playing his pūtōrino in the style he was taught as a youth. Photo: Richard Nunns

Fortunately another kaumātua, Mauri Tirikātene, was present, as he had been taught to play the pūtōrino when a boy in the Whanganui area and was able to pass on his expert guidance. Both Richard Nunns and I were workshop tutors at this wānanga, and this is where we first met Hirini, who was one of those making their first instrument. So began our friendship and partnership. Since then a great number of wānanga have been held on marae throughout the country. This has led to the collection of a considerable body of new information from many elders throughout Aotearoa who were able to correct and modify what had been gleaned from books and museums, and even bring to light hitherto unrecorded instruments. Interestingly, it was often only after hearing the sounds of the instruments that many old people rediscovered forgotten memories.

These pieces of information have been the key to rebuilding the traditions and our sincere thanks go to all those who have shared their knowledge. Many individuals have retained pockets of knowledge that sometimes resurface when their time is right or are kept precious within trusted family circles awaiting their time. It is always exciting to be able to add these to the basket of Taonga Pūoro knowledge and I look forward to gaining more of these to share with those who wish to learn. This book uses the most common of a range of names that have been collected for most instruments. They are not comprehensive but are intended as a beginning so that more people can share the entrancing experience and lifelong interest that these singing treasures offer. And, like many of those involved in this revival, they may find their lives much enhanced by their magic.

Introduction

TAKU PūTōRINO

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