Pita Turei has played a part in some of the formative moments in our modern cultural life. From an extra in the film Sleeping Dogs in the ‘70s, to leading a blessing on the set of Lee Tamahori latest The Convert. From seminal performing arts companies Theatre Corporate, Limbs and Taiao Dance Theatre in the ‘80s and ‘90s to the Ihumatao occupation.
Of Ngai Tai Ki Tamaki, Ngāti Pāoa, Ngā Rauru Kītahi descent, Turei is also a curator, sculptor, comedian and staunch cultural and Iwi advocate. A current artist in residence at Waitakere’s Corban’s Arts Estate, he has been involved in many major public art projects and more than a dozen feature films and many documentaries.
More than anything, Turei tells Culture 101’s Mark Amery, he’s dedicated to walking with people to reveal the hidden histories of Tāmaki Makaurau, Auckland.
Pita Turei: "I haven't got a singular focus and I'm often self-critical about that." Photo: supplied
On walking Tamaki Makaurau
“If we'd lived in Rome, we would know the history of Rome. If we lived in Delhi, we would know the history of Delhi but the people of Auckland… our history is still unknown to us.
“What I hope to do with my work is that the population of the city can know and love its land. And the entire population can be responsible for giving it regard, giving it protection and appreciating its values.”
“Generally, what I've discovered is that if we start in the darkest hour, and then bring ourselves into the light of day, and experience the landscape in that context, experience the narratives that are framed around the landscapes, the ancient narratives, that were part of our oral culture, we just kind of get to see a little bit more.
“What I found was, if I tell these stories with groups of people, people hear more than what I tell them, and I've learned something every time from how other people perceive, respond, react and have their own experience. I learned something every time which is why I'm still doing it as often as I can with as many diverse groups as they can.
“We have to bring ourselves back to a context of reality, which is why if we walk the land, a whole lot of things drop off the narratives that have been handed down and bring it back to the reality of our humanity in the landscape.”
On standing up and making space
“When I was younger, and I was searching, didn't know who I was or anything like that, I got to spend some time with a lot of our tohunga. I got to understand the notion of tikanga and such. Then I suddenly found myself if I was ever in any situation, and if nobody else stood up and observed tikanga I would feel really, really bad for days afterwards. And it would just go through my mind again and again. So I had to stand up. If no one else did, I had to stand up. And so with my minimal qualifications to observe tikanga and such, I would stand and I would sort of justify it in myself to think that I'm holding the space within this. I notice in many of those arenas, especially in arts and many other things, the space I've held as now been occupied by a generation of empowered young Māori and Pakeha people who understand tikanga and who know what to do and how to do it properly. And so that is so gratifying.”
On starting out as an artist
“When I was a young ward of the state and I started carving, it was considered as a dying art and valued because of that, but it wasn't really considered an art in terms of what was proper art in those days.
“I just got inspired by pictures I saw in a book by a visit to the Auckland Museum. I got a little set of chisels from George Courts and I started carving any piece of wood around the house. One of my works found its way to Pene Taihapa. He wanted to adopt me and train me when he found out as a 10-year-old boy doing this work. But the laws of the land were such that I couldn't avail myself of that opportunity.”
On starting out in dance
“I was working in the outback in Oz, in a copper mine, and I needed to come back to some place that was more holistic. So I came back to Aotearoa and I started doing dance.
“I tried to do ballet, but I couldn’t find a teacher who would teach me, and so I did jazz ballet until I was impressive enough for a ballet teacher to take me on.
“I found that such a deep spiritual experience that became my core grounding as a person and as an artist. I am surrounded - we all are - by such a wealth of potent and powerful dance people. It is inspiring, and I keep seeing things beyond what my own could create.
“I did one ballet season at the St James with the Adelaide Ballet, who were visiting with a couple of Russian defectors.
“That gave me an insight but from then on, it was modern dance and Limbs would have been the pinnacle of that. There were the smaller dance companies who we toured maybe nationally and such like that. We'd get together with a group of people, and we put all our energy into it for as long as we could sustain and then I'd go off and work as a builder for a while or something like that and build my resources back up so I could have another you know, period of just dedicating myself to dance.
Sam Neill in 1977 New Zealand film Sleeping Dogs, directed by Roger Donaldson. Photo:
On getting into film
“The first film I worked on and I was only an extra was on Sleeping Dogs.
“For maybe for those first 10 years, it might be one film a year I’d get, and maybe there was only one film a year happening in those days. And so, I would adapt to whatever any film wanted just so that I could work on film, whether it's building sets, whether it was acting, whether it was painting things whether it was doing special effects or stunts, I’d just do anything to get into film.
“Then that evolved you know, of course I started writing I started I was fortunate enough to have mentors like Geoff Murphy and Merata Mita. They encouraged my writing. They encouraged me to start making my own films and such like that. And I explored it that way whenever I could.”
On the role of the outsider in art
“I am still an outsider. Even though I've found my family, my hapu my iwi and such, I'm not necessarily welcomed, or embraced in that context. I am still the outsider and I'm destined to be the outsider it would seem. And so there's something you can see when you're standing on the outside. There's some baggage you don't have the personal, of the memory of grief or anger or resentment. And so being the outsider puts me in a in a unique place at times that I'm not having to uphold any agendas, but rather I'm searching for a way to be true to our tikanga and to the intention of our time and place.”
On being a man of many talents
“I haven't got a singular focus and I'm often self-critical about that. But then in terms of the way I respond to request to do things, I just keep learning something so different every time that I can't help myself.
“I keep saying to myself, you've got to you've got to be more like Lee (Tamahori) or be more like Witi (Ihimaera) and focus on writing one thing or something like that. And that is still that is still a nagging thought with me that I do need to give focus to something.”
