For some years now I have had in my posession a tapa mat (runner) that was gifted to my father while he was working for the British Government in the Fiji Islands. In 1953, my parents were newly married and expecting their first child (me). December of that year was also the inaugural visit to Suva of the newly crowned Elizabeth II, head of the Commonwealth of which Fiji was then a member. Elizabeth made her way to the podium on this runner. Seventy years later, we lost her and I felt it an appropriate time to refresh this relic. My mother who is part Samoan (and will have bearing in this work) believed the tapa cloth (made from beaten mulberry bark) to be intact; however, inspecting it more closely, the actual top layer had been cut away and removed. What we have, is the poorly made underside which had somewhat deteriorated. I felt it worthy of resurrecting and this better than being tossed at some future date. I tried to retain the very best of the edging that will have a visual prominence in the finished work.
I had a sketchy idea of how this work would incorporate 70 years of heritage and history, meaningful to myself as well as my parents: a challenge to harmonize all into a unified artwork.
I wanted to incorporate one of a series of quilted headstones (photographed at the Fonthill Cemetery) that I had worked on during my convalescence from radiation and chemo. therapy in 2009 (never completed or shown). This component I felt was symbolic of rebirth that would tie into the concept of our monarch now passed and replaced, but at the same time, denoting the ongoing changes to rule by monarchical power throughout the Commonwealth.
A secondary theme is that on my own history having been born in Fiji, schooled in New Zealand and having lived my last almost 50 years in Canada: all countries having been formerly under colonial rule. Layers of traditional design elements would be a way to make this presentation. Metaphorically, I see the overall work as a series of connecting roots entwined through layers beneath the ground with a new life emerging above.
I ordered a roll of mulberry paper, and although from Korea I didn’t think it deterred too much from the authenticity. Polynesian cultures originated from Indonesia (and the Mulberry tree from Asia) The now submerged Pacific coastlands are purported to have been the origins of West Coast Indigenous Canadian cultures. Mulberry paper is made from the same plant that traditional tapa cloth is made from – beaten fibres of mulberry tree bark. The paper is very strong, resilient but also transparent. It can be painted and stitched.
Below I show my underlay incorporating the various elements and modified Fijian design drawn and painted onto the first layer of mulberry paper. My headstone will form the top of this work. You will note the freehand drawn designs (traditional) and bleeding of the butternut dye, but this is a feature that I like as it adds to the natural look and significance of the subject.
Working on a project such as this one is a process: doing, thinking, repeating, undoing. I don’t show the discarded attempts at design and remodification of ideas, all of which involve the cycling of process work. It is akin to life itself.
At this point however, I feel like I’ve discovered the pathway and what I need to do. Doing is actually more relaxing and rewarding than the “thinking” process. Here I’m blocking out the areas with natural soya fibres using my silk fusion process (cellulose paste that bonds fibres into layers) that will be visible around the headstone. I’m also stitching “roots” using cloth that I texturized with pit charcoal and coloured with natural dyes. These have been washed to shrink and add more texture to the forms. There’s a job for any time whether in the studio or sitting and “relaxing.”
I’m really looking forward to creating the first overlay which will have the important Samoan designs. I have many “lava lavas” (wrap around dress cloths commercially produced, likely screen-printed, with ink on fabric) which my Mother has given me over the years. These vary in design, but some of the more complex cloths incorporate both angular and organic lines.
Yesterday I started the most rewarding part so far: Beginning the top layer of Samoan designs. The paper was fused to a backing (to provide additional strength) before beginning to paint. I envision stitching through the layers then cutting sections of this layer away to expose the Fijian tapa designs below (part of which will be the original cloth) and to enable the “roots” to feed through, binding both layers together.
Above images represent about a week of work, but the overall concept is beginning to come together. Small changes and surprises such as the Maori component looked much more subtle in colour. I didn’t want this part of my heritage to overpower. My father was born in New Zealand and took us back there to live in the early 1960’s. I was schooled in Wellington then left for Auckland in 1972 where I attended Elam School of Fine Arts, within Auckland University and graduated in 1975. I did a year at teachers college in 1976 and left for Canada in 1979. My mother and 4 siblings all remain in NZ, so it is important to me but I don’t feel that the indigenous Maori culture is really part of my heritage. The design I chose and modified, is called Rauru: This shape is similar to the spiral, and it shares a similar meaning to a koru, representing new life, growth, strength and peace.
I needed to go back now to the underlayer representing the Fijian component of the work: the face to the Queen’s runner (on her inaugural visit to Fiji/South Pacific) in December 1953, that was defaced before my father received it as a gift, and representing the place of my birth June 1, 1954. The mulberry paper had been fixed using cellulose paste, but this would not stand the test of time and handling. I needed to sew the triangular designs down. Using my machine was certainly a challenge; however, getting the large runner through the arm of the machine required rolling the cloth and manipulating it in various directions, which softened the mulberry of both the original tapa and the newly overlaid paper – much like a tanned hide might be softened through manipulation. Both layers seemed to be very durable, especially the paper.
Now the overall composition is started to come together. I have worked on the “background” to the headstone by layering/fusing soya fibre directly onto the tapa cloth. My aim was to cover the bold diagonals enough that they didn’t dominate the work, but still have some visibility through the fused fibres.
The headstone that represents both death and rebirth was completed as a series of quilted works during the period of my cancer treatment in 2009. The black areas were worked using firepit charcoal rubbed into the cloth support. Butternut dye was used as well to colour the fabric. This broken headstone was photographed in the Fonthill Cemetery during that period and dates to the late 1800’s when the first British colonists settled the area of Pelham (heartland of Niagara). The rounded headstone form was padded a little more to add dimension, and, as above, is being stitched to the tapa cloth backing.
I could now hang the whole work vertically to assess how is fell and what needed to be done to correct anything, and my list was fairly long!
In the first image I was laying out the first of the “roots” and had cut through the backed layers of the Samoan, mulberry paper design. In this test run I discovered problems that needed to be worked through:
The underlying Fijian design did not stand out as a deeper layer. I darkened this design using willow stich charcoal which both darkened to the more traditional tone of the Fijian designs and tied this component to the headstone which was originally worked with fire pit charcoal.
The “window” cuts needed to be reinforced with stitching: I stitched around these areas by machine and also around the triangular designs, as well as down the edges of the borders (I would later take out the stitching where is showed on the top half of the quilt.
The whole of this layer needed further backing: I used canvas to provide a little more rigidity as well as to strengthen as the support for the roots which would be woven through this layer.
I would need to design some way of lifting the top layer off the underlayer to create a “pocket” through which the underlayer could be seen: I used an offcut of quilted fabric and formed a “sleeve” through which a 1/2 inch dowel could be fitted. At the same time, I had to unpick the bottom edges of the headstone to allow more excess fabric to prevent “pulling” in of the background and to accommodate the inserted roots at the edges.
I also created several more “roots” going down a size for the finishing interwoven layer. I achieved a variety of tones throughout these forms with charcoal, butternut dye, spray bleach and tea bags squeezed over while sitting in the sink.
I the images below I am creating that sleeve, stitching roots to the underside and twisting a knotting the roots and adding a quilt-backing to prevent the ends from showing through. I would stitch these roots together, strategically, to help prevent them from shifting and pulling the Samoan/root layer out of shape.
Not shown is the turning back of edges, backing the entire underside with an interfacing layer, finishing top and bottom of the work. More of my cellulose paste, mixed with a small amount of white glue, was used to further repair some of the original tapa, and to seal cut edges of the canvas and rolled sleeve. I have now to add the final backing with hanging sleeve attached. Photographing will be left until our weather improves and some sunlight comes through my windows.
