Trivialising the art of Te Maori

Acommon failure of the imagination and of intellectual rigour is the belief that these two qualities cannot co-exist. In fact one is indispensable to the other if art and intelligence are not to be separated and trivialised.

An Italian American woman, Carol O'Biso, has written a book called First Light (Heinemann), a vivacious and entertaining account of her five years' association with the Te Maori exhibition which closed in Auckland last week. I admire her writing for its briskness and energy, but I am repelled by what I consider her determination to cheapen the artistic and spiritual impact of the Te Maori exhibits.

O'Biso is a native New Yorker who began her association with Te Maori five years ago as chief registrar of the American Federation of Arts. She was involved in organising and supervising the American tour. She claims to have developed a spiritual relationship with the exhibition. When it came back here so did she, and she now lives in Auckland.

When she first came to New Zealand she didn't much like either the country or the Maori people she met. These encounters she describes with great vigour and skill at the beginning of the book.

She has been feted by the media lately with the unquestioning acceptance that is becoming distressingly typical of both print and electronic journalism in New Zealand.

Last Sunday on television's Weekend I asked her to tell me about some of the incidents she mentions in the book that convinced her that objects in the exhibition could exert a physical influence over events.

She mentioned the case of the small statue that was slightly damaged and would not be photographed in its impaired state. Cameras mysteriously would not work.

I suggested to here that this implication, and others she makes in the book, cheapen the works of Maori art by suggesting some magical power to intervene in practical events through some circus-like, trick-playing power.

She retreated into the sort of "then how do you explain these coincidences?" sort of argument that is commonly used by people who are trying to push the paranormal case.

Unfortunately, because time is critical in a live magazine programme like Weekend, I had to end the interview quickly and was perhaps abrupt and even snide. That I regret.

But the response of listeners was overwhelmingly against me, and mostly abusive, because of the total misconception that I was attacking the spiritual power of the Te Maori works of art; whereas in fact I was defending it.

Let me explain. I have recently rediscovered Shakespeare's sonnets. I have been reading at least one a day. I marvel at them. I am awed by the purity of the poet's genius. I am intensely moved by their beautiful, rhythmic declarations of love.

Now, would you be more or less impressed if I went on to say that several nights in a row after I had been reading them, I couldn't turn my light out; or that the book would not allow itself to be closed physically until I had finished them; or that no one could get my telephone to ring until I had finished the poems I was reading that day?

Perhaps you would say I was trivialising Shakespeare by putting his work in the same sort of category as, say, The Paul Daniels Magic Show.

That is what I think O'Biso's book does to Te Maori. It doesn't think the power and beauty of Te Maori is enough to impress people in its own way with its own intrinsic worth. It wants a circus trick or two added to get "Oh-my-goodness", "gee-whizz-ain't-that-something?" effects. And that, in my opinion, trivialises the spirituality of art and betrays an inadequate imagination, brings the whole thing down to the level of spoon-bending.

What surprises me is how desperately so many people seem to need to believe in spoon-bending, or in sculpture playing tricks with cameras, even though these are things entirely outside their own experience. They apply no intellectual measure against their desire to believe in cheap magic. They ground their imagination at the level of circus acts.

Well-known writer and broadcaster Gordon McLauchlan is a member of NZCSICOP.